What is Swaish?

Swaish is the answer when you don’t know the question. Swaish is the agreement when there is a fight. Swaish is the word when there is no word. Swaish is the conclusion to all arguments. Swaish is a religion when you have lost all faith. Swaish is the light when there is night. Swaish is I love you when you are feeling shy. Swaish is the beauty we cant find. Swaish is the food which warms our bellies. Swaish is a thank you when you don’t want to thank openly. Swaish is culture, swaish is a code, swaish is everything which is otherwise missing. Swaish is the tradition which separates men from beasts. Swaish is the honor which is difficult to keep. Swaish is the bird when there aren’t two in the bush.

When there is nothing there is swaish, when there is swaish there is everything.

I bid you all swaish!

Curses!

Alarm rings. Wake up. Check clock. Ample time before work. Hit snooze. Sleep again. Wake up. Check clock. Late for work. Curse the shitty movie on TV last night and rush for the shower. Run up the office steps. Sign in. Barely make it on time. Curse the old man in the rickety old car and his slow driving. Reach your desk. Turn on computer. Stare in agony at the pile of papers on the desk. Curse the office boy and his perpetual inefficiency.

“Is the report for the client ready for dispatch?”

Lie; “Yes boss!”  Flip through a pile of papers. Rub your temples to sooth the morning ache. Curse the boss for his early morning drive. Search around desperately for the tea boy. Curse the punctuality of the office staff.  Sink into your uncomfortable chair. Curse whoever bought the office furniture. Forget everything else. Bury head in work. Curse co-workers for their gross incompetence.

Check watch. Lunch time. Ask co-worker for cafeteria menu. Curse the administration for yet another unappetizing menu choice. Pick phone. Order in. Eat. Get out. Smoke. Curse the clouds and their inability to pour. Forget everything else. Bury head in work. Curse the heavy lunch and the drowsiness its causing.

Check watch. Its 730. Stare in agony at the even bigger pile of papers on desk. Curse the ever ringing phone and its effectiveness in not allowing any work to be done. Turn off computer. Sign off. Leave office. Curse the traffic jam and the long long drive back home.  Smoke.

Reach home. Find everything in darkness. Curse KESC and its never ending workers’ strike. Turn on generator. Turn on TV. Curse the news channels and their ghastly habit of repeating the same bad news over and over again. Get off couch. Wash up. Eat dinner. Curse the ever growing belly. Eat dessert! Eat some more dessert. Get out of the house. Smoke. Curse the mosquitoes and their determination to suck you dry.

Get in bed. Watch another shitty movie. Check clock. Curse the late hour. Put on alarm. Curse the remaining four days before the weekend starts. Sleep.

Dedicated to Monday blues.

Inspired by My Friend Leonard by James Frey. Read the book years ago but somehow its tone seemed appropriate for the piece.

Urdu Adab ka Janaza

Ik zamanay tak apnay khayalata ko angrizi main qalam band kernay kay baad hum nay soocha keh inhe khayalat ke akase Urdu zaban main bhe kerne chaye. Akhir yeah humari madari zaban hai aur is ka bhe hum per haq hai. Chunanchay, apnay dostoon ke iltajha kay bawajood, khe hamara Urdu main likhnay say Urdu adab ke moat waqay ho jae ge, hum nay is zaban main bhe apnay khayalat ko tehreer kernay hai pukhta azam banna leya. Ab sawal yea paida howa keh shuruat kee kidher say jae. Ik taraf kalaam likhnay ka khayal aye tu dosree taraf ik afsana. Akhir main soocha keh moqay ke munasabat say shair kahee jaen tu yea ik acha pehla kadam ho sakta hai. Wesse bhe angrizi main likhnay ka agaz bhe ma badolat nahin shaire say he keya tha.

Is silsalay main hamaray ik dost Rabbani sahib nay bhe hamare kaffe madat ke. Becharay akhir main khud he pachtae, liken merray nazarye say un kay pashtanay main Urdu adab ka ik nihayat he nafees adeeb/shair apne is silhayat ko pehchanay kay kabil howa. Rabbani sahib say mushwarat kay sath hum nay apna pehla shair porra keya, jo keh kuch essay hai

Ankhoon he ankhoon main keh deya, mujhay tum say peyar hai
Kahan ho mere sanam, terra intezar hai

Is shair kay filmi rujhanat kay mutaliq humain kaffe took jhook ka samna kerna para. Albata, is say bara masla yea tha keh humari ik qaribi dost bhe isse naam say pukare jateen hain. Ab shaire kernay ke thane hai Urdu main, aur sanam ka naam istamal kernay say hitchkichayen. Yea baat kuch munasib nahin lagte. Leken ab jab shair kehnay ke thaan le tu is tarhaan kay masiall tu paish ayeen gay. Almia yea hai keh is khayal kay sath bhe hamara dosra shair kuch essay kaha gya

Talo-e-aftab say terra intezar hai sanam
Gul-e-kanwal per aa gya ab, mager teree ana na mani

Is shair say humain kaffe shurat hasil howe aur tareefen bhe sunnay ko mileen. Chand logoon ka tu apni angrizi main likhay gye tehreeron ka taruf bhe hum nay is shair he kay ziryay keya. Dosra hum shair kum keh rahay thay aur un pay logoon kay tasurat zeyada sun rahay thay. Sath main khayal aya khe koi takhalus bhe chun lenna chaye. Rabbani sahib nay ik daffa “sexy” ka lafz tajweez keya tha, liken humain is ka wazan shair main bethtay maloom nahin howa. Khair, mukhtasir alfaz main yeah kehna sahe ho ga khe humara takhalus nay tay paya.

Ishar ke kami kay bais hum nay ik din beth ker chand bachkana shair likhay, jis main say ik ka ziker na kerna zayadte kehlae ga.

Idher hum aur udher tum
Ik ke choonch aur ik ked um

Ik aur shair kuch is tarhan say hay

Sitaroon say agay jahan aur bhe hain
Wahan Roti Kapra aur Makan bhe hai

Iqbal ke shaire ka aisay bay darde say galla katna kaffe logoon ko na manzoor tha. Hum nay is ko mazhaya shaire kay zamray main daal ker mazarat chaye, leken ab tak humaray dostoon ka sabar ka paimana labraiz ho chukka tha. Akhir hum nay Urdu nazam ko waqte taur per alwida kaha.

Raita pehlanay ke umang the humare
Yeahan tu damgh ke dahi ban gye

Ab hum nay soocha hai khe apni silhayatoon ka andaza Urdu nasar main lageen gay. Isse silsalay main Urdu adab ka janaza humare pehle tehreer hai. Albata, essa na soochain khe hamara Urdu main likhnay kay azam ko koi thees pohanche hai.

Zamana humain kuch bhe bolay
Hum tas say mas nahin hongay

The Joys of Democracy

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.

Blankness Lost

I am a blank sheet of paper. Okay no, I was; I feel the small ball of a ball point pen roll over me and I am pretty sure that ball is putting ink on me. This is awkward, I wanted to say that I am a blank sheet of paper and remain that way. Trouble is that the only way I can speak is through ink, that is, the ink on my now lost blankness. I don’t know if losing the blankness is something similar to losing virginity. You always have it and then it’s gone forever. My existence doesn’t matter anymore, now I am not the paper I wanted to be. I wish someone would tear me, I feel dirty.

My Cube

I live in a cube. I like everything in perfect squares. The walls, the doors, the windows, even the cupboard. Good thing I was born with money and my shape is a square. People who have similar feelings for triangles or circles don’t have it this easy. I don’t like to talk of the place they end up at because it makes me feel abnormal, but I am not. I just prefer if things are square. I have a square fan, but it can’t work because its not balanced or something according to the designer, still it is square. I would die of heat in my cube but my square air-conditioning unit keeps the temperature sane for me. I can’t use regular monitors on my computer or a regular TV. They don’t come in square screens. Though, thanks to China I import custom designed square screens. The picture is always funny because the transmission is designed for regular dimensions. I doesn’t matter though, I like that it is square. My wardrobe is nothing but check shirts, all of them with tiny little perfect squares. I know cause I always measure each and everyone of them squares personally. I cant live outside my cube because the rest of the world doesn’t know the beauty of symmetry. I am elite, I see things they can’t. I don’t need them either. My life is perfect because I live in a cube.

Donkey Slayer

It all started, when men of great courage and honor waged war against the menace of the fire breathing dragons. Centuries down the line, when the dragons stood slayed, a lone Dhobi, descendant of the once mighty dragon slayers, vowed to regain the honor his ancestors once held.

Fate had it in store for him and it was his destiny to relive the glory days of his family’s past, but alas the dragons were only a part of legend now; hence the mere reduction of the kinship of the mighty dragon slayers to a Dhobi. However, destiny has its way of making the impossible possible for his donkey broke rope and ran off. In the post dragon era, the donkey shall assure that the family name stands restored. Thus, the birth of the Donkey Slayer, spawn of the once mighty Dragon Slayers.

It’s time to be chasing the donkey!

Save us, Its you who we Trust

His masturbation deserved a standing ovation
The king’s court and the lesbian horde
Death to the wise one, we shall all come tonight
Rivers there will flow in the sewers of parasite.

The phone rings, the sword stings
The walls fall and the pen clicks
Doomed we stand, the killers approach
Run like the wind, don’t draw a sword.

Shave your legs and save your toes
The end is near, hence here forth.

Ethics 101

I was reading a chapter titled “Social Responsibility and Managerial Ethics” today, and as ironic as it may sound the book tried to justify bribing in a third world country. Countries where, “government officials are paid ridiculously low salaries…” would be the exact words. So we are teaching ethics but at the same time we are making sure that the firm’s business is not affected. We don’t want our managers to get into the ethics dilemma when they know that the person they can bribe is not earning enough and hey! Its not a bribe, it is just a little money to make sure his kids get to buy new clothes. I think I had better ethics before I read this book’s take on ethics.

Moving on; the book talks of people who actually come forward and raise an ethical or moral issue from their organization. What name does it give to them? Whisteblowers! Now do YOU want to be a whistleblower? For one this name is pretty darn suggestive. Whisteblower, what is the first thing that comes to your mind? Here is the irony, the three whistleblowers the book talks of were all women. Don’t mean to offend anyone but I could not keep a straight face as I read “Coleen Rowley blew the whistle on her employer…”

Here is what I infer from what I allegedly learned today. They put in a chapter about ethics in the management book, but they make sure to justify bribing in poverty laden countries and not only make it ethical they make you think of yourself as the savior of the poor. Along with that, they close the chapter with a term like whistleblower and talk of employees who blew whistles to make sure that before you actually raise an ethical issue, the word which echoes in your head is “whistleblower”.

I will sign the deal with the devil, thank you!

Blank Space

Pouting pearls, that is what started the whole thing. Or maybe it was the picture. Ha! There comes a time when the birth of the situation becomes trivial and it is the presence of the situation which is more of a problem, or maybe even a disaster.

“Or is it?” , you ask. Or maybe I would like to imagine that you did. Again that is trivial right now cause I said so and since I am the one typing away at my keyboard it’s my word over yours any given day. Who are you to tell me what is what in my own head anyway?

I will take a break here to ask you dear reader to tell me if any of this makes any sense to you? All right break’s over get your lazy asses back to work. Speaking of work, what were we trying to achieve to begin with. It all started with the pouting of the pearls – yes this time that is the case for sure, for I talk not of the situation I mentioned earlier but the inception of this brilliant piece of writing. Believe it or not this piece got me laid and it wasn’t a transvestite or a cross dresser, it was Megan Fox! Or maybe it was a dream. But like they say; “dreams are hopes and without hope there is nothing.”

Now I must give credit where it’s due. If it wasn’t for Sammy Wiseguy this remarkable feat would not have been a possibility. Hats off to him and his undying and prevalent support during the days of the LaChupa Kapra – which, if I may add, is another story for another day.

I thank you all for your kind words, the virtue of patience and the display of self-control exhibited during the duration of the recital.