It's Hot. Oh-so-hot!

Mr. Sun! Could you please try to contain your hotness?

It is so HOT! I’d probably catch fire from this heat.

It is so hot that if I were a laptop’s battery, I would overheat and stop working.

It is so freaking hot that if I were water, I would evaporate up in the sky.

It is so hot that if I were an egg, I would hatch out.

If this weather were a food, people would spend forever blowing on it before it was palatable enough to eat.

..And if it were an oven, you could practically bake burn a cake in it.

Ok, this is getting lame. Basically, I’m whining and I got a pretty good reason behind my whiny jabber.

The heat is so insanely, outrageously wild therefore I must whine!

This heat looks like it has come all the way from the sun with only one goal; to make all the earthlings pass out with its hotness. Although its mission-swoon-the-Homo sapiens is going pretty well, still, somehow, I’m conscious and surviving with just enough level of energy that is allowing me to type my whiney yap out.

This is the sort of heat that makes a foodie, like me, want to avoid lunches and dinners and breakfasts. Why? You may ask.. Because steaming hot food in stifling hot weather is definitely a turn off for my appetite. Even then, I did not miss my breakfast today and although this same weather-effected unappealing sensation did make me utter this announcement in front of my family that I would not be seen at the lunch table today, even then I was found there. Why? You may ask.. Because I cannot skip my meals. Yes I’m sure it definitely would help you get an excellent idea about my veracious personality. (Ok, don’t get confused, that was sarcasm!) I’m also, most certainly, to be seen at the dinner table tonight, gobbling up my dinner and whining out my weather stricken rant.

My god, it is thermometer-bursting-and-mercury-spilling-out-of-it HOT!

This is the kind of heat that made me want to grab a nail polish remover for my black painted toenails as somehow 46 degrees of heat made that black color look extremely displeasing to my eye.

It’s that weather when you want to follow only one hairdo throughout the season. The bun! And, if you are gifted with the slightest ability of perception, you must have, most definitely, understood at once that I’m not talking about the glamorous bun here. This kind of bun means gathering all of your hair into a super high ponytail and then doing some twisting and swirling until it forms a bun.

Guys are so lucky. Less hair, less fuss!! And if they are bald, that’s even more of a blessing for them. No hair, absolutely no fuss!!

Even the fan above my head isn’t helping much. It only helps in swishing your dupatta and whirling your hair. And that pretty much seems to be its purpose.

Basically this is the sort of weather that drenches you in sweat and you look like a wreck. A weather-stricken wreck. Or a labor that comes home after a long tiring day of manual work.

Dad’s getting UPS installed in our house as the load shedding hours have gone insanely crazy. I didn’t know what this acronym stood for so I looked up for it on Google. Lesson of the day! UPS stands for Uninterrupted Power Supply.

This is actually not true, the power supply does get interrupted when the battery discharges out completely.

I’m living among a misleading throng of liars.

Oh and by the way, the weather is so hot that if it were a guy, I would undeniably fall head over heels for him.

Hi! I'm A Cat. Meow.

I have a horrible attention span. Or maybe I just try to over stuff by brain cells with random futile happenings. My memory is not horrible though. I can still recall some of the events from my babyhood. When I tell my family about how I still remember some of those episodes from when I was just a toddler, they laugh at me and mock me and say I make up stuff. I still remember the time when I was just 2, sitting down on the floor of my grand ma’s living room, eating lunch with my family when I suddenly got up with a piece of roti in my hand, headed towards the door that opened to the porch, sat down there and started making little crumbs of that roti to feed the line of ants that was passing along the doorline. My mom got so excited seeing me doing this act that she wasted no time, grabbed a camera and snapped my picture at that very instant.

I don’t really remember the part where my mom gets excited, though.

This picture, however, I suppose, is an alibi of her excitement.

Give your eye retinas a try, But you won't find the ant line in this pic. 

I have a horrible attention span, I forgot what I was going to write about.

Do you remember those cameras that needed a film reel to be put inside it? Ahh! Good ol’ days. That film had to go for developing and we had to experience the wait before seeing the results of our immature photography. The excitement coming along with those developed photos used to be immense. I miss those times. Even though this digital camera stuff has made our lives a lot easier, still it can't seem to level up with the charm our old film reel cameras used to bring about.

I have an attention deficit disorder, this is not what I was going to write about in this post.

Threading a needle is not an easy task, on the other hand. I just threaded a needle for my mom. It requires massive skills and the accomplishment brings along a great deal of pleasure. I still can’t tie a knot at the end of the thread though. I just twist the two ends of the thread together and then twist them again and keep on doing it until it forms, what I would like to call it, a knot.

I am predominantly hyperactive-impulsive. This actually means that I have a very short attention span.

Today marks the end of my driving lessons. I can now take my friends out for drive, burn rubbers on the road with the windows down while blasting P!ATD at maximum volume.

That actually would not happen. Let’s just call it one of my loud reveries.

My attention span is… Got it? Yeah.

On my way to the academy today, I saw Sam Winchester, in shalwar qameez, sauntering on the road. I was about to shriek out in excitement only before I took a closer look upon him and concluded that he was actually a mirror image of Sam Winchester. A Pathan dude, I’m certain, he was. I strongly believe there’s an ancestral link between Pathans and American/English people. Blond hair, fair skin, colored eyes. It must be about two families who got parted back in the time and moved to the opposite ends of the world after separation, originating Pathans in the east and Americans/English in the west.

Ok that was stupid, or maybe I’m right?

My attention span is even shorter than an ant’s eye.

Friday is one blessed day of the week. While I was heading back home, I saw rows of namazis stretching out on the road from the masjid, as the great crowd of namazis was getting the masjid short on space. The view made me so proud. I was absorbed in an undefined happiness when I saw those guys reading namaz in the scorching sun without even any shade upon their heads to protect them from the maddening heat.

Also, almost every other guy was wearing a cap, for it was Jumma today and they all looked so clean and orderly and crescent fresh in nicely pressed shalwar qameez. It looked like they were wearing a Jumma uniform.

See, that’s how easily I can get distracted. This too, is not what I was going to write about.

I still think there is a tinge of rightness about that Pathan ancestral history hypothesis I’ve proposed above, though.

I have an attention span of a…. hey, I love fireworks!!

Monotonous Overcasted Hours Of My Life

9:30 P.M, the world is drenched in darkness, everything so still, motionless, omni-quiet & I’m sitting in a corner, seriously annoyed over wapda’s unendurable action. Yes, you guessed it right, I’m talking about the power cut sufferance. How do you spend your time when this time of crisis collapses on you? I go stationary. Exasperated, my mind goes and my soul goes irritable, defenseless, grouchy and gets exposed to even a wee bit of annoyance. My sisters are spending their time talking and gossiping with each other, which actually is a way to keep themselves from using their phones, hence trying to save their phones’ batteries because that’s what any sagacious, concerned about their phones, Pakistani would do, as we have no idea when’s the power going to come back. I’m lucky enough to have 38% battery left in my laptop that’s allowing me to type down what my frustrated brains are commanding me. And that’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to write. Write until the battery passes out and leaves me super annoyed.

My sister just cursed Zardari.

TeeHee.

Summer’s unannounced load shedding season starts today. We were blessed enough to be imprecated with the announced load shedding only but today, the unannounced load shedding is also entrenched upon our distressed lives. My poor being is experiencing power cut since 6 o’clock. My phone’s battery is almost dead so I can’t use it. Laptop battery is just going to last for a good twenty minutes and my life, in a nut shell, is literally over. I just realized that I’m sitting in the same spot for the past 4 hours. These 4 hours, oh I’m never going to get back in anyway. What a life, ahh! As I’m writing this, I pity myself for having such a pitiful life. I must complete this when the power comes back, for now the laptop needs to hibernate.

(The Next Day)

So the power came back at 12:15 A.M, I was in no mood to turn on my laptop at that time. I delighted myself with a good night’s sleep in an air conditioned room. Yes I must show off after receiving the continuous seven hour-ed long misery. I think I should hit the roads and join the hooligans against this power outage crisis. Hmmm, I should seriously think about that as there’s really nothing else to do with my life during those dreary hours of blackness.

For now, enjoy my ‘keep calm’ poster:

From The Diary Of A Socially Phobic Niece

We all have annoying aunties in our family, right? The ones who keep talking about our future because their interest in our lives holds a special place in their minds. I have one too. Err, actually I’m dealing with more than one such creatures. It’s hard to keep up with them & their “I’m-about-to-make-your-ears-bleed” talk.

I have this aunty who got a catch phrase of her own. Particularly when she’s talking to me, I guess. And that catch phrase is “Tumhara number abi bohat door hai”

IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN!

I’m the youngest one among my sisters. Whenever my aunt sees them doing the chores, she goes “Baqi behanein to mehman hai, tum kaam kro tumhara number abi bohat door hai” Gets me all nettled. Seriously. Last time she said that I fired back at her. I said “Oh who knows aunty, maybe I’d get married first” (just to make her quite down of course) and it worked. For like a minute, I guess. She went still. I won (for that very moment I did win actually). But then she felt a little embarrassed about losing to ME so she started coming up with some pretty lame rejoinders.

Ohkay well here’s the deal. I keep thinking about it. When my sisters would get married, they’d leave the house, obviously, and their chores would be thrusted upon me because when there’d be nobody else at home to do the chores, mum dad would obviously call me to get them all done. So, in the long run, I am the one who’d be doing all those chores, right?? Verifying the intensive thinking of my brains, I felt like… Ah! Genius!! And put across those thoughts to her. I told her that being the youngest sister actually meant that you must show some mercy to me for I would be doing all those chores in the longest time possible. We must be given at least the same number of chores for the sake of stopping sibling rivalry. Her extremely non creative mind used my very own comeback against me and she said, “Oh who knows maybe you’d get married first and leave the house, so now go get to work.” :/ Child labor, I say. This is child labor.

This other aunty, she keeps worrying about my height. I’m kind’a tall. This, normally, is perceived as a blessing by girls. But for me, it has been a curse so far. I mean their stupid talk makes me feel like I have height issues. Although I’m not “that” tall. But oh well I am the the tallest sibling, the tallest (girl) cousin & the tallest one among my friends. My eldest sister, well she doesn’t even let me wear heels. She says I look like a giant in heels. Oh & did I mention that I LOVE HEELS?!!! But I really can’t recall the last time I wore them. I think I’ve never worn any. Never in my life time. I tried to wear them in a family gathering once, 3 years ago & I still remember what kind of harsh talk I had to hear when my sister saw me wearing those heels so she went all mad on me. I always wear flats everywhere and anywhere. *sobs* Life can be such a letdown, at times. Well, Ok, now getting back to the aunty issue, it once happened when I was sitting at a cousin’s house with my family (the word family includes ‘that height conscious aunt’ as well), when I suddenly had to get up to get some stuff done. As soon as I got up, she went “oh hey, are you wearing heels?” *looked down at my feet* I was wearing NO HEELS obviously. Then she continued, “You’re growing taller day by day. Give it a break.” and guess what did she say next… “Aur lambi hui to tumhare size ka koi nae mile ga” I went completely defunct! She said that to me on my face!!! Meany aunty. Meany Meany aunty!

Another aunty, she thinks I’m still a kid. So whenever I go to her house or she comes to mine, she treats me like a baby. Which is nice, at times, rarely, very rarely though. But most of the times, its irritating. I mean I like being pampered and all but that’s something different, she treats me as a kid & I would actually NOT call that pampering. It’s just being treated as a kid. It’s annoying.

Ok, I guess I must not give a damn anymore.

P.S. iWhine -_____-

Be My Guest Or Leave Me Alone

I don’t like it when XYZ guests come over to our house. I’m aware that it shouldn’t be my attitude towards any guest coming over, but I can’t really help it. Whenever my mom gets to know that someone’s coming over, the very next thing that comes in her mind is Yusra’ & ‘cleaning up the house’.

My mom wanted me to clean up the house as we were having some guests over. But I told my mum I don’t want to clean the house just because they were coming. I never appreciate them visiting us. I told her I’ll clean it some other time. Not for them but for me (Yeah sounds like a brilliant pretext, No?) But well, she said she didn’t like my attitude (I was damn sure she’d say that in response to my justifiably assertive behavior) Further she went on & told me that if someone comes to our house, we should never make them feel un-invited. We should make them feel special.

Well, that’s the only reason I keep TOLERATING their existence in our house.

JUST because my mom said so.

But it’s frustrating, I tell you. It’s frustrating when your usual routine messes up with the arrival of just a certain someone.

I have to endure the pain… So much pain.

It’s maddening when you can’t watch your favorite show because ‘the guests’ have to watch something else on T.V. Or when you’re listening to you favorite music& they suddenly show up from somewhere & tell you they don’t like that kind of music so they want you to swap it with ‘their’ favorite music. It’s thwarting when you can’t eat your munchies around the house without sharing with them. Like you usually eat, during normal days, when your house is “un-guestified”. Because for some reason it feels awkward when your guests are just sitting there looking at you while you shove the munchies down your pie-hole. So you have to get up and share it with them. Which is one hell of a psychotic sufferance for me as I hate sharing. It’s intensely enraging when you’re watching something on TV & they kick off a discussion over that T.V show with their voices so loud that practically veils the voices coming from the T.V & you can’t help but listen to their irky talk, which actually turns out to be a protest on how kids these days never watch anything useful on T.V. & that discussion goes on for so long that your show ends up & you get up and walk out from that room but their debate never seems to catch the end point so they keep on talking about it. This is kind of obtruding, No? You like your shows, I like mine. What’s the big deal? But then again you can’t tell them to shut up because they are, oh well, the guests.

Ok one thing, for the record, if guests want us to give them their full rights, they should also identify their obligations in return. So they must know that their most important obligation as a guest is to “Live As A Guest” because they don’t own the host’s house.

Do not interfere. Mind your own business. Don’t creep into our lives. If you are a guest, live here as a guest. I’d never go to someone’s house & tell them I don’t like what they are watching on the T.V. Because it’s their house, not mine. They can watch whatever they want.

Don’t be a nuisance. Be a tolerable guest.

Also when you just don’t want to spend time with them, you literally find yourself locking up inside your room. But when you have to face them again at dinner or lunch, the first thing they say is “Ye to nazar he nae ati. Sara din kamre me band rehti hai” That’s the very moment when I literally want to scream,“When I sit with you, you make me feel like running away. You’re always talking sh!t about my likes. Why would I want to spend my time with you? You guys are nothing but repelling personalities!!!

But instead, I take control over myself, conceal my feelings, bury the urge to scream deep down inside and fake a smile so that they don’t think I’m rude…

Why oh why?!? Why do I have to be so nice to people? This very question raises in my head every single day. Never get an answer back though.

..oh & what’s even worse, the guests who come over at your place with no plans of going back to their houses in their mind. Well that just kills me. How can anyone be so thoughtless? It’s strange how they don’t even get the idea that the more they stay at someone’s house, the more uninvited their existence becomes & it makes others’ lives miserable. Well, actually we don’t let them grasp ‘the idea’ because we’re always being super nice to them.

I know I shouldn’t be feeling this way about them. While writing this, I feel like I’m a bad, bad antisocial person which I’m oh so totally NOT. So this kind of proves one thing. You are never born bad. Situations & people around you make you a bad person. Because I know, I’m one hell of a social butterfly. Always chattering with people. Giving them a real good company. But some people, well they just drain my energy, make me feel enervated.

….like the type of guests portrayed above. I hope they don’t read it though.

P.S. Hey, Wanna come over to my place? We’ll party hard!!!

From The Diary Of A Useless Gentlewoman

The life of a “No-I’m-not-a-Nerd” ..or let’s just not call it a life

“How do you keep yourself entertained?”

“Uhhh, by tweeting, facebooking, in short, social networking.”

“You don’t have a life! I mean come ‘on you call it a life?” That’s freaking nothing but a waste of life. You must be doing something productive instead.”

“Err, like what?”

“Scan all your papers and covert them to PDF”

“What?”

“Learn Linux command”

“Huh?”

“Learn C++ programming”

“What on earth does this See plus plus mean?” O.o

“It’s a programming lingo, you stupid head!”

“Oh, so why not let “minus” give a chance as well. What’s the point in repeating “plus”. Hey “minus” has got feelings too, Ok? Make it C-+” (I respect ‘people’s’ feelings. I’m sweet like that)

“Arghhhhhh! Or, better yet, go check out my web www.you-are-one-step-away-from-converting-into-a-nerd.com "

“Holy moly, Sheldon much?”

^that’s a common colloquy, I’m afraid I’m very likely gonna be having with a nerd, someday. I even had to Google those nerd terms, I’m dumb like that. I’m seriously a bit perplexed. Am I the one who’s lacking life? Are nerds living it to the fullest? *bewildered expressions* I can never imagine sitting myself in front of a computer screen, reading symbols like *00>eyur or whatever they write it like. I mean come one, make your life easier. Live like a human! Speak human, read human, STAY HUMAN! Leave that nerd stuff for people like Bill Gates & Newton, they were meant to be into that stuff. You are a normal human being, with a family, brothers, sisters & your friends. This is called a life. Ok tell me something, how do you spend your weekend? Partying at C++’s house or what? Come ‘on my nerdy brothas & sistas! Don’t make your life miserable. Live it up. Make some friends. Hang out with them. Do some crazy stuff (NO!! You son of a Sheldonn!!! That doesn’t include making a solar charge controller or something) Like dine somewhere or party or whatever you’d like to call it. Just make it anti-nerd.

Oh & I have also even seen some “social networking nerds” using Facebook & Twitter for their geeky purposes & I gotta tell you, Maayyynnn! People love’em! They got hell lot ‘a “likes” & “followers”, respectively. Well that makes me wonder a lot more about “Am I useless?”

*frowns*

“Am I dumb?”

*eyes sparkle with tears*

”Am I stupid enough to sit with a bunch of geeks & zone out after a mere time period of 10 seconds”

*bursts into tears*

Now I know why my mum compares with that next door neighbor. Like, ohhkayyyy, go adopt him or something. You’re totally not appreciating the value of this one hell of a child you’re blessed with. :( *emotional extortion*

Oh but btw heyyyy, Sheldon is a nice geek! :) Why? hmmm… probe required!

BAZINGAA out!

P.S. Hey nerds, at least your nerd talk made me create a meme! Check it out.