Mind Storm

An interestin disucssion going on at Hasseb’s blog. Here is my take on it…

Intelligence is not as much related with taking risks as we think it does. “Higher the risk, higher the return” is one of the fundamentals of finance. However, that fundamental says nothing about intelligence. Point being that, one might be stupid and therefore he might take a risk just because of the fact that he has no idea what he is getting into. This person has a chance of failure but stupidity does not always mean failure so he can be successful too (remember Forrest Gump).

Coming to the intelligent person, now when this person would take a risk, he would assess the risk. He would know how much risk is involved, what are the losses he might have to bear and also, what would be the profits if his risk pays off.

Now with all of this knowledge, why would he not take the risk? That is a behavioral question; people are risk averse or risk takers. Even a stupid (or less intelligent) risk averse person would not try out something new, or enter into a risky venture.

What we call jugari over here is actually innovation. I prefer the latter word over the former because jugar has a negative connotation attached to it, in fact munir’s reply also takes jugar as a wrong practice. The word sounds like you are cheating. What an innovator does it that he finds a new way of solving an old problem, thereby finding new avenues and turning them into profit.

Elaborating on jugari, one of the reasons for it to have a negative meaning associated with it might be because in general we (Pakistanis) try to find shortcuts. In doing so, the quality or the substance is lost. So jugar seems to have two meanings now; one, innovation, two, shortcuts. Shortcuts of course don’t deliver. So a business man using shortcuts to get his product across might not be so successful in the long run bcause he is not just bypassing important aspects, he is completely ignoring them. However, an innovator is not doing that and therefore, has higher chance of sucess.

Like Hasseb asked at the end of his post; what is your opinion?

Apparently I have been tagged at more than one blog. In a way the previous tagging took me to this one. Was tagged by Rabia this time around.

1. Last movie you saw in a theater?
Transformers, it was the 3rd time I was watching that movie and it was the theater where I actually loved the action sequences. Otherwise, it was an okay movie.

2. What book are you reading?
Just finished Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conard, amazing book and Rabia you must read it.

Other than that, right now I am reading The Lord of the Rings - The Return of the King by J.R.R. Tolkien. Again, loving it and this is the best of the three books series. Maybe because there are a lot of battles etc. in this one.

3. Favorite board game?
Okayyy this one requires some contemplation… Monopoly is a lot of fun, even if you lose (which I shouldn’t but hell I did)

4. Favorite magazine?
Can’t even remember the last time I actually read a magazine. I mean okay, there is the occasional skimming through when there is nothing better to do but been ages since I have actually read one. I think I will go with Reader’s Digest here.

5. Favorite smells?
Never actually thought about it but love the smell of BBQ. Don’t know the names to any of the chic perfumes I like so can’t really say anything about that, but damn the right chic with the right scent does bad things to me.

6. Favorite sounds?
Thunder, heavy rain, heavy rain and thunder together (i.e. thunder storm), a guitar solo, the roar of an engine (of course the engine should not belong to a Mehran or a cd70), my laptop’s keys.

7. Worst feeling in the world?
There is one, but I can’t quite put my finger on it or explain it for that matter.

8. What is the first thing you think of when you wake up?
“Dammit Taimoor, you know you shouldn’t have [insert random activity] last night.”

When I had to go to FAST, that sentence was usually followed by, “Ah well, there is the hour sleep I can catch on the point.” Ironically, days I really really really needed that hour sleep, I would miss the point.

Point - The bus which used to take us to our university.

9. Favorite fast food place?
Subway

10. Future child’s name?
I think I would be busy cursing myself for not using a condom.

11. Finish this statement. “If I had lot of money I’d….?
…spend it. (Anyone who knows my spending habits knows what I am saying … In fact, now everyone should know what I am saying)

12. Do you sleep with a stuffed animal?
Errr… no!

13. Storms - cool or scary?
Fucking amazing!

14. Favorite drink?
Have only had vodka, I don’ think I am in a position to chose my favorite drink yet. Seriously though, I think I will go with Pina Colada but only because I have to answer this question.

15. Finish this statement, “If I had the time I would….”?
…travel the world, go on expeditions, participate in a triathlon, oh and extreme sports like bungee jumping, jumping of planes and doing random shit before pulling the cord on the chute and stuff like that.

16. Do you eat the stems on broccoli?
I don’t think I have ever had broccoli, I will need to check with mum if she ever tricked me into having it.

17. If you could dye your hair any color, what would be your choice?
My hair color is perfectly fine, thank you.

18. Name all the different cities/towns you’ve lived in?
Okay, starting from 1987 - Gujranwalla, Quetta, Skurdu, Okara, Nowshera, Pano Aqil and Karachi. Yes, in that order.

19. Favorite sports to watch?
Used to watch cricket but it sucks ass now and honestly quite a waste of time. Tennis and Basketball, again used to watch them eons ago.

20. One nice thing about the person who sent this to you?
Love the way she (Rabia) writes and I really wish I had more of fiction written by her to read. Other than that, honestly, she is sort of mysterious which is sort of cool. However, I find her to be a person who is not judgmental, is open to other’s ideas, beliefs (or lack of them) and thoughts. What most of us do is that we gauge a person on only a few predetermined attributes and then label them accordingly. Something about Rabia says that she doesn’t label people that way.

21. What’s under your bed?
Books, an old computer, lots of random papers, a couple of boxes with random junk, a small box with around 5 old cellphones.

22. Would you like to be born as yourself again?
Hell yeah!

23. Morning person, or night owl?
Hands down night owl.

24. Over easy, or sunny side up?
Sunny side up.

25. Favorite place to relax?
The beach, that place me and my friends always thought is Cape Montz but is not. However, it completely serves the purpose.

26. Favorite pie?
None

Whom to tag, whom to tag?

Tagged by Roomiat

Pick up the nearest book (of at least 123 pages)

The Lord of the Rings - The Return of the King by J.R.R. Tolkien

Open the book to page 123.

Find the fifth sentence.
..

Post the next three sentences

The leading company rode off as swiftly as they could, for it was still deep dark, whatever change Widfara might forebode. Merry was riding behind Dernhelm, clutching with the left hand while with the other he tried to loosen his sword in its sheath. He felt now bitterly the truth of the old king’s words: in such a battle what would you do, Meriadoc? ‘Just this,’ he thought: ‘encumber a rider, and hope at best to stay in my seat and not be pounded to death by galloping hoofs!”

Tag five people.

Sammy Wiseguy
Mobzilla
Ayaz Ahmed
Lubz
Rabia

It was a camp site in the wilds. A bunch of young college graduates were celebrating their freedom before they would sign up for their six figure salary jobs with corporate power houses who would suck every bit of life out of them in the next ten years. Right now though, they were not bothered about such facts. They thought they had closed a chapter of their life and were celebrating.

His job was to pitch the tents, serve warm food and make sure no one gets lost in the woods. However, the presence of all the young people around him recalled a memory he worked hard at suppressing. One night when the campfire burnt bright and everyone was gathered around it with beers and quilts he abruptly started his story.

“I was at a mall, which had apartments on the higher floors. The importance of this detail is not very clear to me but it just gives more of a reason for the interaction of the people I would be mentioning subsequently.

“I was browsing through the shops when a little girl with pig tails entered the mall or as far as I can remember simply materialized out of thin air. She had in her hand a small box of sorts and with that box, there was a note. She was at a considerable distance from me but strangely I knew what the note said and still vividly recall those words, “When the red line meets your pin, I would trigger a chain”. Apparently, I was not the only one who noticed the little girl because just when I was trying to decipher the text on the box a man in a black pullover, sporting cropped blond hair ran up to the girl. It seemed the box and what it said meant something to him, he squatted in front of the little girl and in a panicked voice asked her, “Where did you get this from?” The answer to the question was not important to him and I believe he didn’t even think he will get an answer, that phrase – which was being repeated over and over again – was there just to fill an otherwise awkward silence between him and the little girl. That question was just his verbal reaction in fright.

“The little girl simply stood there; amazed, speechless and at the same time emotionless as the words being uttered by the man jumbled up into a senseless chant. He was not even looking at the girl, his eyes were fixed on the box – the only answer he wanted was the translation of the note into something he could understand. He took the box from the girl’s hands and slumped on the floor. His panicked filled voice silenced and he looked at the box in amazement and intrigue. It was at this moment that something glimmered on his wrist and I noticed the leather band with metal studs, much like a goth rockstar’s, that he was wearing. In between the metal studs on his band there a small paper pin, something which must have been once lodged there without as much as a second thought but was now a part of the cipher which accompanied the mysterious box.

“It seemed it was not just me who made a connection between the innocent little pin on the man’s wrist and the box. The momentary calm on the blonde guys face vanished as quickly as it had appeared and he bolted upright and announced, “It’s a bomb!”

“From the moment the little girl had entered the mall I was in a state of trance and retrospectively thinking I am amazed at how detached I was from everything around me. The proclamation of a bomb being present in a fairly crowded mall must have created quite a lot of havoc, however, neither did I notice it that day nor can I recall anything of the sort today. All I remember is that as I stood there bewildered and shocked at the knowledge of a ticking bomb so close to me I could not get my eyes off the young woman who to me appeared as suddenly as the little girl had a few minutes ago. She had short hair which came down till her jaw and sort of framed her round, innocent and cute face. The girl was dressed in white pants and a top which hugged her attractive figure.

“She entered this utterly confusing and strange situation with an aura of someone who can fix everything. For a split second it seemed that she knows exactly what to do as she walked up to the blonde guy saying, “Give me that” and then snatched the box from his hands. To me it looked as if the moment of panic had almost passed, that was until she went to the staircase and simply dropped the box from the edge. At first I thought that maybe the box will fall through the gap staircases usually have between them but then I looked over the edge and saw the box bounce off a step to a lower one and then disappear out of sight. At the same time another woman started going down the flight of steps, unaware that she is actually walking towards a bomb.

“If being in trance was not enough this new situation completely numbed my senses. I know the bomb went off because I felt a tiny shiver under my feet but I never heard an explosion. Everything after that was a blur, I soon found myself leaning over the railing, looking at the floor below me where I could see a pool of blood being formed. I then heard the voice of the blond guy as he shouted the same question over and over at the cute faced girl; “What the fuck is wrong with you, what the fuck is wrong with you?” I peered over little further and confirmed the notion that the blood belonged to the girl who was climbing down the stairs. The blond guy’s voice could not be heard anymore and he was down on his knees next to the dead girl. He just stared at her and everything was silent for what seemed like an eternity until a sob escaped the lips of the cute faced girl. She crashed to the floor as if her legs gave away and in between her sobs she tried to defend her actions. However, her speech was barely audible and all I could pick was, “…but, but… I wanted… care… didn’t think this would happen… save you” It was evident that her confession was directed to the blonde guy and the look in her eyes made it obvious that at that particular moment all she cared about was his forgiveness. However, all her sobs did was break the man’s solitude and he looked at her with a face which screamed of anger, pain, hate and vengeance.

“If things weren’t strange enough already, they got even bizarre. Other than the irregular sobs of the girl everything was silent but what was louder was the anger on the man’s face. Without a word he reached for a walking stick someone had dropped earlier, rolled it in the crimson pool in front of him and started smear the dead girl’s blood all over the pure white pants and the light colored top of the cute faced girl. A sick sound of thick, sticky blood being rubbed from the stick to the clothes engulfed the environment. The sobs of guilt turned into moans of pain but the repulsive sound of blood was what actually broke the silence. They both kept sitting exactly where they had slumped on the sight of the dead girl while the man continued painting the girl with blood. The absolute silence on his part made everything even more eerie.

“I didn’t realize it until much later, but as I was held captive by the grotesque picture in front of me my feet started moving towards the exit. To me it felt like I was floating away, I looked around amazed at the fact that I was moving without my knowledge and when I looked back I found that the man had the girl pinned against the wall and was smearing blood on her face, her hair, her neck – everywhere – with his hands. The girl had stopped crying, her eyes had a vacant look and she was as silent as every inch of space around her. There was still a hint of innocence on her blood dripping face but now she seemed entirely lifeless. It was not her who was standing against the wall anymore but she something which was protruding from it. The man’s face no longer had any sign of anger but in fact had an extremely disturbing impression of calmness. He looked more like a painter brushing on the canvas than a lunatic covering up another person in a dead girl’s blood.

“I don’t remember anything after that, I don’t know how I and when I exited that building. I just recall that the girl against the wall and the man holding her there faded away. I did not hear anything about this incident after I woke up at a hospital days later, nor did I ever try and find anything about it. I am left with this absolutely horrible memory though and the stark contrast between what the cute faced girl was when I first saw her and what she last looked like when she last faded away remains with me in the same way as they show the before and after pictures on the TV.”

He went silent after that sentence, his story had taken away the music, laughs and chatter of the camp site long ago. Everyone was staring at him, either wondering about the authenticity of his story or trying to shake off the picture of the two dead girls, wondering whose death was worse; one who transcended or the one who still might be breathing but for all practical reasons is just an object protruding from some wall.

From June 1^st 2008, we at Pakistan will have daylight saving timing. Which means that we would be switching our clocks to 11 PM on the mid-night of May 31^st. Which - and I just realized this - means that we will have two mid-nights on May 31^st. However, that is beside the point. Now I am a Karachiete so I am going to use the sun timings we have here. So we have the sunset at around 7.45 PM, there is enough daylight to begin with in this horrible summer.

Why do we need to save daylight when we have it till almost 8 in the evening? Yes, because of the power crisis. Due to a variety of reasons, we do not have enough electricity to run the country. Having longer days would mean fewer hours in which we would be required to use lights, bulbs etc. Thing is, given this heat, the hours during which we would not be using the electricity for our lightening needs, we would be sucking it dry through the air-conditioning. When five in the evening would actually be four in the afternoon, your AC would most definitely be turn on. Otherwise, you would be cursing KESC for the power cut.

As far as I see it, this is a useless measure. Imagine, sunset at nine in the fricking evening (read night) and the glaring Karachi sun till then. This also completely murders the life of the city, Karachi is called the “city of lights” for a reason; even though there are not enough lights anymore, the fact is that it is the city’s night which turns this concrete jungle into a living soul. With all the e-mail forwards there are not a lot among us who have not seen the aerial night shots of the city. In fact, one just needs to climb to a floor as high as tenth on any random apartment building and witness the splendor of Karachi’s night. It would not be the same with darkness coming in at nine.

The same goes for Lahore even, it’s the nights when the city gets going. At Islamabad this is going to be quite a bummer, no offence meant to any Islamabadis here but that city is out cold max 10 in the night. Speaking of nights and evenings, Karachi’s evening breeze is a bliss. Even that is out the window now. With the daylight checking out at nine I would be more concerned about the headache I will have because of all the brightness than enjoy anything post sunset has to offer. I still clearly remember the constant irritation when we had the idiotic daylight saving time a few years back.

However, we a desperate for electricity and are therefore trying to latch on to anything which seems to provide us with an option of battling the crisis. Ironically, building dams and power plants is not part of the anything. They are the long term solution and would not make a difference in context of the current year but these dams are an issue which has been under discussion for years now. Musharaff tried to hold consensus on the entire dam building issue a year or two back but nothing came out of it and eventually it had to bite the dust. Unless we are not willing to do anything about increasing the power generation capacity, idiosyncrasies like the daylight saving time is not going to do jack.

It took them a month and a half to form the government. It’s been almost the same amount of time since then and they still have not workout the kinks. If these facts weren’t sad enough all the meetings, negotiations and press conferences are not being conducted in Pakistan. Hey! Its only the country whose political, legislative and future course is being supposedly debated on here, we do not actually need to be in the country to do that. Well who can blame them, the luxury and comfort which a foreign hotel can offer them can not really be found at the local places. Plus the quality of women there for the free hearted can not be met by the local sex traders. However, I digress, everyone wants good food and then a good lay, we are men, you can’t really blame us for gluttony and lust.

Point is that it’s been three months since free and fair elections were held in the country and a month and a half since we have had a democratic government. Democracy, the sacred word our country could only fantasize about for seven years of a dictator’s rule. Well ladies and gentlemen, congratulations, we have democracy. Now our country can finally grow economically and socially. Oh but wait, did the dollar not creep up to a figure near Rs. 70 a couple of days back? Indeed it did. Petrol prices, now they too saw quite a rise during the last couple of months, did the not? Hold your speech about the global oil prices, I know oil is $125 a barrel, but wasn’t the non-democratic, dictator’s puppet government taking the heat earlier.

Anyway, it started with the current government. Its May the 12^th today, budget is supposed to come out about two weeks. One would imagine the ministry of finance would be deep in paperwork right now. Totally not the case, we are faced with the political turmoil of the restoration of judiciary. Therefore, and I know this would sound a bit off, our Finance Minister is currently in either Dubai or London to make sure that the coalition sticks. Of course there is a cherry on top of this cake; who do you think is financing the trip? Yes! You got it right; it is us innocent tax payers whose money is being burned so that we can have democracy. Na! No one really cares about how good or bad it is, but to not have democracy in the 21^st century. Oh god the shame!

So I ask you my fellow country men and women. Why this obsession with a democracy which is actually worse off than a General? Of course the General is supposed to defend to borders but was there not (ironic is it might be) more of a political stability when it was one guy who was calling the shots? Right now we are a ship without a captain; at the mercy of the ocean winds – of course the cruise will end at Dubai.

Got a story published at Ex Nihilo, which is a monthly online publication with the purpose of creating a platform for sharing and interaction on art work by young people. Anyway, linking it here.

Carpe Diem

“Sleep, that is eight hours a day I can utilize somewhere else”, that is how it starts I suppose. So you condition yourself to save up on hours a day by not sleeping. Mind is greater than body remember, all it really takes is a perception which makes you believe that I am not tired and I am in fact extra productive now. So your need to sleep goes down a considerable notch and you float in the bliss of having more time at your disposal.

However, there are psychological and physical misfires. It would be naïve to claim that you don’t physically tire at all. It just that your brain does not register the messages coming in from the nerves. It becomes a condition like leprosy, obviously not much as worse but a fair analogy, where even though there is physical atrophy, the loss fails at being communicated to the sensory. Gradually it starts to take toll on your mental capabilities. It all happens under the cover of an exponential increase of productivity, a heightened sense of ambiance and an amplified version of creativity. However, underneath it all you are exhausting your brains. It keeps pumping blood, it keeps churning material, it keeps delivering and in its over clocked state it forgets to remember that it is burning out.

This is where the final nail comes in. Suddenly you wake up from your euphoria of achievement and realize that there is a complete loss of sleep. There is a lingering feeling of fatigue underneath your thought process, there is a general numbness of consciousness and a mild muteness of senses. The body aches and the head throbs but you feel them as gentle vibrations under your feet. There is a sledge hammer beating at the walls of your head but the room is sound proof so what you hear is a tiny thud in place of a massive crash. This is where another deprivation of senses takes place, one against which the now aware mind attempts to revolt. At one end there is the conditioned perception of no need for rest and on the other is the consciousness of the need for sleep. It is the will built with time against the intellect of realization. Which one do I listen to or more aptly put what would the mind obey; the will or the logic? This is my battle against insomnia.

There were colors on this wall once, bright vibrant colors. A splash of red, a stroke of yellow, a hue of blue and a border of orange. There were faces, there was sparkle, there was life and there was an audience. The abstract blended in flawlessly, the splashes ran between the cracks, the strokes brushed against the rough. The wall was a time warp, you could come and it could soak all your colors and make you eternal. Before color it was white, it was pure and waited with open arms for life. It was without a personality, it was just a presence of divine. Then it sipped in color, it drank life. Then it became a painting, it built a character. However, as is with all that is perfect the wall, the colors, the life was corrupted. Tar seeped through the bricks, paint swelled and cracked and pus squirting out like a disease. The paint faded away and what remained adapted black. The surface eroded and took with it the last breath of pure. The audience were gone and the eternally vibrant were subdued. The wall succumbed to what it was, the chemicals which made it bright revolted and turned dark. There are still traces of what once was behind the tar but it seems like an abomination, a hate crime against all that is not wrong. The colors are gone and with that history of whatever it was.

I am a myth, I am a fantasy. I am who does not exist, at least not in the way you fancy it to be. I am what you think me to be and therefore I am flawless. I am an ideal a utopia, a whisper of your wishes. I am a cloud of vapors you hope could cover the sun. I am the answer to your questions, the object of your affection. I am a could have been you cannot get over, a mirage you fail to reach. I am what you desire but I am not what you need. I am who you lust and without me you can not sleep. I am who you will wait for even when everything falls apart. I am who can corrupt you and you won’t regret it even after I am gone. I am for whom you will leave everyone else from your past. I am who will sabotage whatever comes in your path.  I am the existence of your hopes, the place of your refuge. I am the ultimate gratification you could hope to receive. I am your perfect creation and you bow to my feet.