The World Doesn’t Owe You Any Favors

Your own misery and your own disillusionment are exactly that. YOUR OWN.

Disclaimer: Pointless rant alert.

Within my own (admittedly limited) scope of experience, I can say that this generation lives in a state of chronic dissatisfaction. It’s how we define ourselves. It’s how we feel comfortable. It’s like a second skin. Today I met a 24 year old who’s afraid he likes his job too much. I mean of course you can rationalize pretty much anything in your head if you wish. So sure, let’s agree that liking your job too much isn’t a great thing. He complained that it doesn’t leave time to do anything else. So I asked him what he wanted to make time for and guess what? He had no clue. He likes the IDEA of wanting to do something else, but he has no notion of what that is.

I feel like I want to wring his neck but then I stop dead in my tracks and think about if I’m really all that different. Probably not, if I’m being even a little honest. I think I like the glamour of the whole idea at times. But usually it’s just a default state of being. You get so comfortable being miserable that nothing else measures up. And don’t get me wrong, I AM comfortable. For instance, my day today was packed full with meeting friends, attending events, lunch, coffee, music.. the works. And I was very excited at the go but I had a constant nagging feeling that it would get fucked up somehow. Maybe that mindset is what caused it (self-fulfilling prophecy) but it did happen. And it’s almost a welcome feeling when it comes.

To me and every other discontented/ aimless/ frustrated individual out there, this quote from Reality Bites sums it up best:

“I mean, try at something for once in your life. Do something about it, but you know what? You better do it now, and you better do it fast, because the world doesn’t owe you any favors.”

So.. all I need now is a plan for the rest of my life.


Do It For the Kids

When they say “Oh, you never know what life throws at you”…believe them. If you think you’ve got a plan, chuck it out the window. Familiarity and routine are over rated anyway.

Almost exactly a year ago, I took what I then thought was the biggest decision of my life and decided to quit my 9 to 9 bank job. At the time it seemed like the “right thing to do” is all I’m gonna say about that. If anyone cares, read my unemployed rant here. Over the next few months I took a mini vacation, made a half hearted attempt at looking for a job overseas, got employed and summarily rejected job offers from several organizations, added a professional investment analyst qualification to my resume, and finally just parked my behind at home and called myself a “freelance writer” (much simpler to explain when people ask what you do). Several other disastrous almost jobs later, I landed up as a teacher and student counsellor. Go figure.

A recent run in with an old friend brings me to the subject of my current post. You want to do something, anything? Do It For the Kids.What I take that to mean is, don’t sit around smoking cigarette after cigarette, giving yourself reasons to do or not do something. Take the plunge, or don’t, but don’t waste another second of your life deciding. I could potentially spend months, perhaps even years, debating a decision or little or enormous consequences but I hardly ever do. Even deciding not to do it. So I, of course, write about it. (Haha, don’t even pretend you don’t love my humour)

Here’s what I have to say about that though: Why bother? Really, if you’re stringing yourself along well enough, don’t make a mess of it. There is always that infinitesimal chance that your effort will be worth it but then again, why gamble on those odds? Teacher, writer, analyst, wife, meh. Don’t take yourself too seriously. That’s why God invented 9GAG – best three hours before you drift off to sleep, guaranteed.

I leave you with this little gem. You’re welcome, world.

Momentary Lapse of Reason

The good news: I have taken the plunge and quit my job that had been making me unhappy for at least 2 out of the 4 years I’d been working there.

The bad news: I am in all out ape-shit-crazy panic mode. Well, not all the time. Mostly just between meals.

Case in point: I just decided to make myself a cup of coffee.

Should be easy:

  1. Blend coffee and sugar.
  2. Add boiling water and/or milk.
  3. Enjoy steaming cup of frothy Nescafe


In my head, I expected my coffee to look like this:


In reality it looked like a cross between dirty dishwater and gravy.

Aaaaand cue. Enter: moment of crisis.

What kind of 29 year old doesn’t know how to make a cup of coffee?

Maybe my mother’s right; I’m never gonna bag a man.

It’s not too late to change my mind and retract my resignation..

Mumble mumble incoherent self pity….

Aaaaand cue: fit of hysterical crying. For the stout of heart, here is my dishwater in all its glory.Image

Oh well. One less career option.

Choose Life

Choose Life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family. Choose a fucking big television, choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players and electrical tin openers. Choose good health, low cholesterol, and dental insurance. Choose fixed interest mortgage repayments. Choose a starter home. Choose your friends. Choose leisurewear and matching luggage. Choose a three-piece suit on hire purchase in a range of fucking fabrics. Choose DIY and wondering who the fuck you are on Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing, spirit-crushing game shows, stuffing fucking junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pissing your last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, fucked up brats you spawned to replace yourselves. Choose your future. Choose life…

Mark Renton – Trainspotting

Truer words were never spoken. As it happens I do need a new job as I’m facing a bit of a career crisis at the moment, if anyone cares. And a “fucking big television” “leisurewear” and “dental insurance” would be nice too. It’s Monday afternoon and I’m reflecting on life, wondering “who-am-I-and-where-is-life-headed”.

So.. then what? We have a series of problems, get over some and deal with a new set of problems? Move from job to job, settle down, buy a house, get married, have kids, grow old, die? I remember when I was 15, my grades were SO important to me. And now it’s a decade and a half later and that’s meaningless and a better job is THE most important thing. And then, when I’m 40, getting my kids into great schools will be the biggest deal. Is this a checklist and we keep ticking things off until there’s nothing left to tick off anymore?

I know this is a depressing rant but I really want to know if anyone has figured out their shit at all? I really want to know, who on God’s green earth has it all put together (and can we have some pointers please). I want to speak to someone whose written an inspirational quotes book and ask them WHERE their little gems came from. The “dance in the rain” and “live life in the moment” variety. What do you guys see that I don’t see because I am desperate to know. How do I live life in the moment? How do I stop stressing about the shitty job, and the marriage dilemma and the family drama?

Any thoughts? Any ideas? I am rotting away, so to speak, as we speak.

Woes of a Karachiite

Somebody asked me yesterday if my blog was politically motivated. I said no, of course not, since it isn’t. But let me make a sort of exception to that rule to rant about this nightmare of a city I live in.


This rant will be nothing but the disgruntled grumbling of a fed up citizen so if you’re in a happier and calmer mood, I would urge you to walk away (or navigate away, to be more technically precise).

Franklin Roosevelt said in his inaugural speech “We have nothing to fear but fear itself” and I feel that’s exactly what’s happening with us. A constant, nagging fear of the general situation.

“Halaat kharab ho gaye hain”

is all we hear. We dont know where or what. All we know is somewhere in Karachi somebody’s unloaded a brick-load of explosives or gunfire, a certain number of people have died and the rest of us have to scurry back home from school/work/point xyz as soon as we can. If we’re lucky traffic won’t be that terrible and it wont take more than an hour. If not, well what can you do? Show me a Karachiite who hasn’t been in a 3 hour traffic jam and I’ll show you a liar (either that or he/she’s a hermit. Or a bike wallah. Or just one lucky sonovabitch).

Last night I happened to venture into one of those frequently sighted CNG lines with my mom. Yes, those
blasted CNG lines causing the traffic jams. What possessed my mom to get into a CNG line at 11:15 pm is something only she can explain. We finally got our precious CNG around 12:30 am. I don’t suppose there’s anything enlightening I could say on this subject, so I’ll refrain. Other than the fact that In a weird way it was kind of humiliating. Like we are so far gone that they can slowly deprive us of basic necessities and all we can do is queue up and hope to get our hands on some.


Hardy har har. Being stuck in a CNG line for hours, so funny I got a stitch in my side. Lunch, omg this cartoonist is a hoot! Asshole.

After our CNG adventure, I came home and fell into an exhausted sleep and dreamt that I was jolted awake by gunshots which went on and on for what seemed like four or five minutes. After which hundreds of people came running out of buildings and houses like they were being driven away from it. I suppose I must’ve joined the crowd at some point although I don’t remember doing so. We all assembled in a large hall or tent somewhere and nobody had a clue about what was going on and frankly nobody seemed to care. It looked like people were quite used to it from what I gathered because nobody seemed surprised or bothered much. There were kids playing around within minutes of intense gunfire so I’m guessing this was a regular occurrence. I looked around for my family and friends and saw them loosely scattered around. My friend was there, crying on her mom’s shoulder about some boy! Another friend was there doing something trivial. Point is, nobody was bothered about why we were driven out of our homes in the middle of the night by these men with the guns and in my dream at least, I was the only one aware of this being an unusual or unacceptable occurrence. The overarching feeling was helplessness and a general
shrug-just-bear-with-it attitude. Eventually everyone scattered and left the tents and that was the end of it.

I woke up with a start at 6 am, sweat running down my face and the first thought that came to my head was “I hope I’m not psyhic”. As a Karachiite I have my usual share of stubborn pride in my city but who knows how long it can stand the test. Some of us are here because we have no choice, some because we have no place else to call home. Those with the means to do so are tch-tching on the situation in the country from the comfort of their new homes in another country. The rest of us are stuck here just trying to make it through.

Let the games begin..

“And now you do what they told ya, now you’re under control

Fuck you, I won’t do what you tell me”

Killing in the Name! – Rage Against the Machine


Have you ever wondered what you would do in a state of anarchy?

Well I hadn’t, until today. To start off, my friends and I watched “Hannibal“, the very colorful sequel to “Silence of the Lambs“. If you haven’t seen the movies, they’re about an FBI agent’s rendezvous with a very intriguing and classy cannibal. It’s brilliantly done. I mean, the man eats people but you just cant hate him. You’re almost rooting for him in fact. He has impeccable taste, dresses like a cultured gentleman, knows obscure poetry and literature, enjoys the opera.. you get my drift. And he chooses his victims according to a measured and well reasoned criteria, not randomly going on a killing spree like a common maniac.

Coming back to anarchy. There’s a moment in the movie where Hannibal gives one man a chance to push his wheel chair ridden master (so to speak; he was his employer but treated him more like a slave) and let him plunge to his gruesome death to be devoured by wild boars in a field of mush. He says (I’m paraphrasing) “If you want to push him, go ahead. They’ll just think it was me”. The man in question doesn’t hesitate for a split second and off goes the wheel chair, straight to the boars. Annoying, pompous, unbearable master I do admit. But he just calmly pushed him down to be eaten. And I was left feeling very satisfied.

Which makes me wonder. Would I? Would we? I know its a movie and its just for entertainment value and all that. But would we? If anarchy prevailed and we had the chance to do something “wrong” we wouldn’t do under normal circumstances and walk away with a clean slate, what would anyone do?

Then, there’s this incident with two of my friends, lets call them RF and AP. RF pointed out that if given half an opportunity, AP uncontrollably “lights things on fire” (okay, RF didn’t really say that, I’m using code. To protect our privacy. Hah, see the irony there?). By opportunity RF means lack of knowledge and/or intervention by friends, family, parents, whoever. What RF means is, AP’s habit needs supervision. And I wonder what they’d do if there was none.

I can think of no less than three people I would push if I was the pusher and they were the pushees. But then again, I’m a little star struck with Dr. Hannibal Lecter so maybe today is not the best day for this judgement call. On a lighter note, I finally see an intelligent, well dressed, charming, cultured man.. and he’s a cannibal in his spare time. What’s a girl gotta do?!

I am woman, hear me roar!

I have decided enough is enough. I will no longer cower in fear before some bully!

So, my blog and facebook and everything online have been off the radar for a couple of months thanks to an insanely disgusting, disgustingly insane stalker, not to mention bully. But now that I’ve switched  numbers, taken everything off facebook and laid low for a while (laid low? lain low? hmm.), I miss rambling on my blog. So here I am, even if nobody cares.

As for you, mister stalker, khasmanu khani! (I don’t give a damn about you)

Okay so maybe I give a bit of a damn. Beeewwwaaaarrrreeee of what’s coming your way:

And he’ll turn you into sheesh kebab before I can say bwahahahaha!

Wee, I feel liberated already!