"Seldom affirm, never deny, always distinguish - and distinguish with piety, reverence, and vigour".

Professor J. Goering did say it the best.
Seldom
affirm
Never
Deny
Always
Distinguish

Oh, what I wouldn't give to be studying Santa Maria Nuova in Florence, itself. Maybe with Henderson?Park?

Sometimes you just don't know why you are doing something anymore.

Its a simple question. It really is. Why, they ask. Its just because it is. This giant box has become really small, really really small all of a sudden. I don't know why anymore. I just DONT.

Its like the world stood still but no one noticed.

October 8, 2005 was not eons ago. I can still feel it happening in my insides and I miss my home, my Kashmir and my love. I don't think I will ever forget it but I don't know when I will talk about it.

Chris Cornell can rip you up and then some.

I have seen angels fall from blinding heights, and you yourself are nothing so divine, just next in line. Calm yourself, because no one else here will save you, the odds will betray you.

If you love me, won't you let me know?

Was a long and dark December
From the rooftops I remember
There was snow
White snow

Clearly I remember
From the windows they were watching
While we froze
Down below

When the future's architectured
By a carnival of idiots on show
You'd better lie low

If you love me
Won't you let me know?

Was a long and dark December
When the banks became cathedrals
And the fog
Became God

Priests clutched onto bibles
Hollowed out to fit their rifles
And the cross was held aloft

Bury me in armor
When I'm dead and hit the ground
A love back home unfolds

If you love me
Won't you let me know?

I don't want to be a soldier
Who the captain of some sinking ship
Would stow, far below

So if you love me
Why'd you let me go?

I took my love down to Violet Hill
There we sat in snow
All that time she was silent still

So if you love me
Won't you let me know?

If you love me,
Won't you let me know?

- CP.

You've gotta stand for something or you'll fall for anything.Fall for anything.

What a whirlwind!M is here with the family and so our house is full of way too many people at any given time. Its so hard to get work done and hence, I didn't , because I am an ass that way. My essay sucked and my midterm was atrocious and none of that is funny shit. I am basically screwed if I don't pull my socks and just get into it. I have a research paper and 2 exams to redeem myself and restore any remnants of a dignity that I have left. I am sure that both of my profs see me as a loser now, and actually a stupid loser. Regardless, I am not losing at life and so all the remaining course work will rock(INSHALLAHx999999999999).

I am currently beaming because I am a stupid teenager caught in a 20something's body. But yeah, how do we say, pathetic?Convesations should never make a person this happy unless that person is an idiot, or me. MCAT course ends tmrw and the test is fast approaching. I am sad that I haven't studied as much as I could and should have. This time though, no stone is going to be left unturned. I love my playlist and I love the script and cold play and Beerah and school. Although, parts of neuro do make me want to shoot myself in the eye and observe the neuronal activity. Ugh, life.

I'm on a boat and It's going fast and I got a nautical themed Pashmina Afghan.

INTENSE. Summer school is one crazy ass ride. Even D, who was all chirpy and excited about is, is swamped. Back-to-back assignments and exams plus prep sessions are totally uncool. I am enjoying the learning though, hah-most days that is. Hope I didn't screw up the tuesday exam(AMEN AMEN AMEEEEN). I love seeing Beerah though. She is so precious and cute-ey. S thinks that I need to stop stalking the little jaan but she is just the gorgeousness and such a poser. Bless, Bless!!

How do you make up for passion?

Petrarch had passion. He had so much of passion and love for Cicero that he wrote letters to him and even to Aristotle. He wrote a whole 3-act dialogue between him and Augustine. Augustine lived and died a 1000 years before him. I feel like I don't have that kind of passion and maybe thats why things feel harder to me. I don't have that instinct and that un-relenting love for anything, anymore. Maybe, the whole Mersault-esque life has made me just that, an ice queen. Petrarch was a humanist and they believe in leaving some kind of a mark in the world to remind people of themselves. I want to leave a mark too, a good one, a great one. I know that I have the love, the passion, the drive and even the blood lust for it, I just need to use it to get the wheels in motion.

New Day.

Take me on the floor .I can't take it any more.Just take me on the floor.I can give you more.

This week I have learnt that you are always one google search, one shrug, one msn update and four years away from your past catching up to you. Its dark but I guess this is life and nature. You realise that you are the under dog, the black horse, the one who got left behind and in all honesty you are a loser. You pick up your bags and your aligator tears and go or do you stay and be strong through it. You asked for appples and you got lemons. You can make lemonade, ent?BUT, you straighten out your back and make yourself a fine merangue. You devour it and love it. Its not about a martyr complex or pride but its about fighting and faith. I don't know if I have it. I might not(most of today, it was not there). Its a fight, it was a fight and if I want that slice, I need to put in the work and so I will. Lots and Lots of it. Every last word, breath, pause and lysozyme.Not that anyone needs to know but the regret will always be there. I admit. Sigh.

I can give you more

Test.

Its chemo. Its official. It is indeed chemo. 16 injections. 1 per 3 weeks for 12 weeks and then 1 every week for the rest. It is fucking cancer. I can't believe it. We all do so much, so much good and lots of bad. I understand that its a test but she is young, and now going to lose another part of herself. Its hard for her. The conversations are limited to haal-chaal, dawai, doctor's visits. There is a sick person who is very lonely and tired. She can't sleep, she can't weep and then there is the family, the visits and the phone calls. I hope that you will be well. Even if every hair follicle has to fall off, its okay because it will help you. I know God is listening and he cares for you and for all of us. He is the kindest and he will get us through. Just.be.strong.

I was standing in the corner with my five best friends. I knew that you were trouble but I couldn't resist.

Summer has a wonderful way of starting off. Its cool, green and beautiful and by mid august, it is sticky and humid. The transition is icky but I guess, it is what it is. Today is the first day of summer school. Well, it was supposed to be until JM decided that jlp was not a proper substitute for my csb requirement. I am pissed, relieved and very confused. I am excited about his243 and hoping that I get in. I hope that I can handle 4 straight hours of class in the same room but at least I have evenings off. I am still going to try nmc and see how it fares compared to the history.

I think that we have finally decided the vacation plans for this summer. Its going to be New York, Atlantic City and Washington all within a four day tour. Its either this or nothing so I am going to take it. I hope that it works out and hopefully Sarah and I can be off this thursday, which works because next monday is Victoria day.

I found the whole scriptures of sorrow album. DOTR has such a nostalgic feeling about it. I was almost in tears. Beautiful. I miss M but they are moving here so its going to be a great re-union.N's reports are good. She will be fine. Talking to A helped yesterday, a lot.

Summer School, Princeton Review and Hart House. Fun stuff. InshAllah.

‘Cus it’s a hard life, with love in the world. And I'm a hard girl. Lovin’ me's like like chewing on pearls .

Last thursday was the last day of classes and we have an exam study break until exams start next week. I am super nervous about exams because I can't seem to focus. I was supposed to be done reading all my primary documents for Mediaeval history and gotten through the three notebooks. I am still stuck on the first book and have only done two of the eight readings. Ugh, and then there is HPS, PSl and JMB. I am scared. Alhamdulilah, this year has been going smoothly(InshAllah will finish strong). I can't say enough shukar for that but my exam anxiety and my ability to screw up everything in life is coming back and I can't focus. I hope that I don't screw up. I have to get to campus asap because I just eat, sleep and talk when I am trying to study at home. InshAllah, I won't get side-tracked.
I am also super-excited about the crazy intense summer it will be.

Lady Gaga:D

Home.

I miss home. I really do. I used to miss home a lot more until recently. My country cannot even enjoy an art festival without riots and demonstrations now. This new government has given a new name to freedom and democracy. Even our dead politicians don't seem to stop haunting our present. I hope that things get better. I thought that the earthquake destroyed most of home, and it did, but now the bigger picture is threatened too.

Allah Khair Karay.

Jaana tha hummein abh jayein kahan.

I have a paper due this week and a math assignment due tommorow. I have been listening to Noori all day. It reminds me a lot of the past couple of years. I have been missing so much, so many people.I am in the homestretch for this semester. I need to really need to get some great work out there.I really hope that I can. I am scared to let this term finish. Obvious, you already knew that.

Professor Bob Goode.

Tue, Mar 10, 2009 -- Fall-2008-PSL201Y1-Y-LEC5101: Professor Goode
Dear students,

The following is a message from the course coordinators:

It is with great sadness that we announce the passing of Professor Bob Goode, a colleague, a teacher and friend. Professor Goode was involved in teaching PSL 201/200 since it’s beginning in 2000. He inspired his co-instructors and was immensely popular among students. His yearly appearance at the beginning of a Respiratory segment of the course was a welcome relief from a somewhat tedious teaching approach taken by other professors. Unlike the elaborate power point presentations used by other professors, Dr. Goode used only the blackboard and simple demonstrations. Who can forget his demonstration of the volume of the resting breath by asking for a large coffee cup from the audience or his illustration of maximal breath during exercise by pulling out a basketball from his bag of goodies?

Professor Goode not only talked the talk but he also walked the walk. His lectures included a story about a former member of the Physiology Department, Dr. John Grayson, who used a saying from the British Army that “one can walk no faster than one can talk”. Professor Good adopted this axiom and developed the famous “Talk Test” for physical fitness that he popularized in his lectures and publications.

Professor Goode passed away unexpectedly near his home in Muskoka where he lived on an island. He will be greatly missed and respectfully remembered.

The first time I heard about Professor Goode's passing, I couldn't get a word out. He was on of the best professors I have ever had. He was smart, engaging, funny and simply amazing. He was a student of Dr Kreb. He was at UofT when Roger Banister broke the 4-minute mile and he had all this history and knowledge in him. He was kind and such a good person. He was so inspirational. He made respiration physiology jump off the page and bounce right into you. I wish I could have taken more of his courses. I wish that the next decade of PSL201/200 kids could see him pull out that basketball and make the whole lecture of 400 people get out of PB and make them jog, JOG, run. I pray that he rests in peace.

The Way that things are.

Its election time at UofT and everywhere you look, people are campaigning and asking you to give them a chance. I have been at UofT for a while but this year feels very different. The whole campus is much more political now and this year, more than ever before, students are getting involved. I am looking forward to the elections and waiting for a better leadership to come to power. I am all for Jason Marin's ticket for CHANGE and I hope that he wins along with the rest of his ticket. My first reason for preferring their ticket was because he is the NCSC president as he is pretty darn good at it so I definitely want my college to represent on the UTSU. But then he came up to D and I and explained their position and I get it and I am all for it. I am going to vote for the first ever time at the UTSU elections and I am super excited.

The world is very political nowadays, much more so than I have seen it to be before. I am happy to see it and I am sad every time I come home from school and hear about what happened in Pakistan. I love my country with every fiber of my being. Both countries, Pakistan and Canada and I am proud to love them both. I don't openly talk about politics to strangers or to people outside my home because I have grown up seeing the aggression, the spirit it brings out in most of us and its a little scary to unleash that beast at times. But I did talk politics on tuesday to R and D and I am glad as hell that I did. I got to vent about how some people are hell bent on destroying one of the best places in the world and how the politicians are sitting on their asses. I wish someone like Michael Ignatieff could be the next Pakistani leader. I really wish it was possible. I know that I am not doing anything to help my country but explaining to those two girls as to why my country is not a lost cause and just in need of some old fashioned change felt good, felt right. I think that Zardari, if he intends to not have more of the pakistani people resent him, should listen to Ignatieff and replace Canada with Pakistan.

“We will occupy, we will monopolize the centre ground of Canadian politics. We will push them off to the left, we will push them off to the right and we will hold the dynamic centre ground of Canadian politics.” - Michael Ignatieff

gpb.

I loved gamma. I wonder if I will fit. HELP ME!

Change.

Barack Hussein Obama: 44th US president. As of today, there is a black man sitting in the oval office. This year has started with and promised a lot of change. I got to witness history, and yes our generation helped make it possible. Its scary to be on the verge of such a great chapter that is going to make changes to the history of our world. They will talk about it in the history books in a few decades. Standing in Sidney Smith Hall, with The Rule of St. Benedict, in my hand, there was something in that air. Change. Change.

No, tommorow is going to be just another day and nothing is going to be fixed in a day. But there is hope and change. So yes, fingers crossed Mister O.

I wish I could believe.

“Age has no reality except in the physical world. The essence of a human being is resistant to the passage of time. Our inner lives are eternal, which is to say that our spirits remain as youthful and vigorous as when we were in full bloom. Think of love as a state of grace, not the means to anything, but the alpha and omega. An end in itself.”

- Gabriel García Márquez, “Love in the Time of Cholera”

Nobody, Nobody!

Omg.Haha!So catchy!

change.

little explosions in the sky.

St. Michael's. Finally!Four years, Its been four years. Its probably more painful now to try to touch the band aid. Sandra Leucci's office was an experience. 3 hours of talking, just talking. HB action, talking and lots and lots of A4-sized sheets. Its just so hard to pick on the scab. Its much easier to put it away under a band aid and try to forget about, lest the inflammation action happens. So yes, St Mikes, after four years. I am so going to make the most of every single freaking second there.lanyard love.

HPS, JMB, PSL, HIS. Slow, steady up the steep hill.

deal.

Ami is back home now, Alhamdulilah. I hope her labs were okay. I guess we have to wait till the 27th to find out. Its just scary, fall, a scary time. September started off with a bang, really. Abaji is gone. Its been hard. I still can't accept his death and its hard. Last year and this year, we have had many a trips to SGH. As much as I love hospitals, the sight of her in that horrible bed and that blue gown is just something I cant stand. I have been thinking a lot about stuff lately and I don't think that I can deal with sick parents, I just cant. I am the eldest and can't show any tears even when the doctor is ripping apart someone who you love more than anything else in this world. I am abus' eyes and ears here so can't let a worry line slip or a tear in front of anyone. But I am scared, scared for them. I know that its a part of life and I can do sickness just fine but parents being sick is just a league of its own. September and october are such hard months. There is that horrible earthquake, the cousins lost, the home, the friends and then there is abaji's death, the two thyroidectomies, uff. It just better be okay. I seriously play that it is. Not TB, not cancer, nothing major, please. I just can't deal and be all grownup.

Please

I pray, pray, pray, pray, pray that today is a better day than yesterday:(

on death.

Since I was a kid, I have been taught that death is a certain time that is assigned to every single person. When you die, your soul leaves you. Ami says that your 'rooh' leaves your body and you are dead. I understand the concept of a person's spirit leaving their body and once thats done, all thats left behind is a hollow shell. Its an empty body and the person who the body once belonged to is gone. He has left so you technically don't have any relation to that body. We have been taught key har aek ka time muqarar hai. Yes, so every one has to die sooner or later and thats okay and as they die their soul leaves that body. Then, what is medicine?What is this science?Why is it possible for someone to be revived if their heart stops?Once the heart stops, their pulse is no more. No breathing so death. All of them keep talking about how it was time for him to go. It was pre-destined for him to go at that time, then what is this about resuscitation?Just because we belive that the soul is gone, the person is dead and hence there is a DNR status on them?For what its worth, and its not really worth anything, I would have resuscitated!I would have for hours, until I could get a pulse or another contraction. If it was indeed a cardiac arrrest, what kind of a doctor doesnt revive the patient?All I know, have learnt recently, is that be it CMH, Muzaffarabad, or Shifa, Islamabad, nothing changed. They died at their pre-determined time and there was no reviving the patient. So we let the blood go cold, the enzymes denature, the systems shut and call the time of death. Its all just planned.
Resuscitate

09/02/2008.

It’s been eleven days since we got the call. Chachu called from Al-Shifa saying that you are gone. So, the doctors announced it a few minutes after Abu and Chachu hung up and you were there. You were there, still sick, quiet, sleeping, with blue nails. And then a few minutes later, you were gone. The warm person in that body, the one we knew and loved, loved, and loved some more was gone. I don’t know who woke me up and told me about you. I got up, picked up my duppatta and ran downstairs to Ishfaq Chachu’s room. Aji was crying, Aemon, Mona, Sarah were crying. Chachu and Abu were silent, as if frozen. All the phones were ringing and they were all crying. My body felt like it went into septic shock for a few moments. Heisdead, dead, dead, dead. OMG, He is dead. I sat down by the mirror and just broke, broke down. All the bad dreams, all the anxiety, the restlessness was this. You were leaving this world when I went to bed. How could I not have felt it? I prayed so much that you would live. I prayed Yaseen for you just the night before. Abu and Chachu looked broken and I think that maybe God planned it this way. Your nails becoming blue, Altaf Chachu noticing and telling Abu and Abu telling him what to do. Niar was at the door, he came in and called. Time of death-Time of death. We have been praying and missing you. I don’t know how to live in this world without you. I don’t think any of us can imagine you dead and buried six feet under. They said you were glowing when they got you ready. Oh Abaji, I don’t know what to say. Do I miss you? Do I ask you for forgiveness? What do I do? How can you not be there in our lives anymore? You had to see our graduations, our careers, our marriages, our kids and you saw none of it. Bu lagas!Bu rachhap lagas! They say that you are in a better place and I am sure you are, I am sure. This is the only place I know and you aren’t here and its hard and I cant take it. I cried on the bus yesterday. I just cant look at a picture of you and think about all the time you were here, in our house, happy and sad and sick. But now, we cant hold your hand any more or kiss you. You hated that, all of us annoying girls kissing you all the time. You used to get so mad at us. You thought key moon kharab hota hai. Of course, we know key ni hota. We also know that you loved it. You knew you would miss that once you were back in Pakistan. I miss you so much and I am so sorry that I couldn’t talk to your doctors. I should have asked them. You wanted me to go to school in Lahore because Lahore is the best place in the world for education, for medicine. I told you about Canada and the States and you got it. You understood why we are here and then you told me to go to the States. You never thought of Canada much, after all gaoon hai, aur kia! I miss throwing my mattress near the edge of your bed and sleeping there and listening to you pray for Abu, chachus and all of us. You missed all of us so you came here and for that, I cannot be more thankful to Allah. We got to see you, spend time with you, love you, hurt you and take care of you. I miss you praying for us because I know that no one else will pray for us anymore. My Abu is an orphan now and I don’t know how to understand that. You were in every one of our plans. You were supposed to come back this winter. You were supposed to be here with us. You were supposed to be alive. You always thought that I talked a lot, I wonder why I didn’t get to talk to you. I should have talked to you. We had the calling card, we had it all and yet we didn’t get a chance to talk. You asked me to come to Pakistan to see you, all of us girls. I should have known then. I should have understood. But I didn’t. How could I have imagined that your last Ramadan here would be the last you will ever see. A lot is going to change here and some already has. I want to change so much so that when you look down from your beautiful new home, you are proud and you are happy. I want you to be happy. You have Boba there, and your brothers, your sisters and your parents. I just have no words to explain. I talk a lot but I don’t speak much. My words are like hollow like the person that I am. I wish I could have had more time with you, we all wish that. Aji is going to Muzaffarabad this weekend. I am happy that she is going. I wish that we all could have gone but it just couldn’t happen. Last night, Altaf and Ishfaq Chachu were getting your gravestone made. Your gravestone. Its just so hard to not be able to come home, say salaam to hug, hug you till you get mad and tell us off. We all miss you Abaji and our words are just not even enough to do justice to you. But, I know that I will write down everything that comes in my head because I want to preserve every last memory that I have of you. You led such a wonderful life and Allah loved you so much that he gave you death, the way you wanted it. We will pray all Ramadan and after that and we wont ever forget you. We just can’t forget you. I just hope that you are well and happy where you are. I have so much more to say and I will say it. I just need to find the words first, the right ones, the ones that are good enough.

02/09/08.

So he's gone.

For my dearest.

You know how we always ask for miracles, This time, we really, really need one!

t-7 days.

omgomgomgomgomgomgomgomgomgomgomgomg!

Now that you have tasted blood, would you jump?

All this summer has been about the MCAT prep. From May to July, all I did was go to Princeton Review and learn/re-learn everything about Science/VR/WS that I have ever learnt. I go through sticky notes, highlighters, pens, pencils, erasers like the stationary monster, if there was one. But now, for the last two weeks, I haven't done anything. I am scared shitless. Someone who has a cgpa twice the size of mine didnt do so well on his test, I don't know what my chances are now. I feel burnt out or maybe just lazy. I have most of my re-reading to go through and I just can't seem to focus. I am so ADHD that its not even funny. I wonder how the other folks in my class are doing/did. The test feels overwhelming. I am scared and I don't even know how and when school re-opens in the fall. Abu's here and I should have talked to him. I can't, I just can't. I have tasted blood this summer. To be there in that environment, you want it more and more. I can't imagine anything but this now. This is what I want and I am going to get there. The thing about OMSAS better be true, better help me. Next year and the year after.I wan't my spot in med school so badly. Argh, it kills me to be there, yet so far. If I hadn't fucked up in the last three or so years, I would have been better off, so MUCH better off. Um, yes.

summer?

MCAT

for her, who taught me all the words.

I don't know how it can be eleven years already. I think I remember the feeling when I heard about you. I was wearing Mara Api's red and golden choli and we were playing dulhan dulhan. I almost fell off the ledge of Amma's bethak when we got the news. How can it be 2008 already?How can it be that I have not yet dreamt about you?This life has changed in case you are wondering or can somehow read this. I miss you. I have missed you since june 30, 1997. I have become much of a disgrace and maybe thats why you don't want to bother but can you just bother a little?I have so many words that I want to say that when I open my mouth to speak, I just choke on them. Its hard missing you when I have shamelessly forgotten so much of you, of what you taught me. I think of you, maybe not all the time but I do, as much as I can.

I have realised that I don't know who I am anymore. I am a bit of everyone I meet and thats not anyone. Its just a collage of instants and moments and not a person, a whole person. I need you here the most. I need you, period. Tommorow, I am accepting T, rather, I think I am. I don't know. Its these hollow days, I am counting down. Friday is going to hurt. Its going to be pain of a different sort. Tonight is a pain in the league of its own and so is everyday.

I am turning a new leaf or I am trying very hard as of today. I will struggle, hurt, work through this. Its going to be huge. I deserve huge, you deserve huge. I have never loved anyone as much as I do you. I want you to know that. I don't say much out loud anymore as my words and my worth cannot compare. I miss you and I love you and may God keep you in his good graces. You are the ruler of hearts, you were and you are and I want to be like you starting tonight.

I always say that and I am going to carry through. I have lost way too much of me and my way. I need to get back to whats right. I do. I really do.

Tell me how am I supposed to breathe with no air?

Its a 4 letter word and a three letter that decides everything.

O'lord!

Vraiment.

Les temps sont durs pour les rêveurs

THE LAST LECTURE

This.

time, where did you go?

I measure time by the number of pages I highlight. How many chapters, passages, homework problems. There are just not enough numbers of hours in the day. Its been harder than I expected. I am walking on egg shells and its not getting any easier. By this time, the shells should have been the least of my worries but thats all I have at the back of my mind.

I really need a corner. A corner to just do this in and not to leave it till I am done. From Israel, exchanges, CNN internships, Mcleans, Law School, Med School, Business School, Carribean vs. Canada vs. US, Atlantic Bridging, Poland. I need that corner just about now.

TRL needs to be less crowded. It does.

If there is ever going to be a way for me,

I really need this to work. You know what it is that I need. You know why I need it. You know how much I need it. I am lost already but this will help me fix me, fix all of this. This mess that I have tucked under the carpet under layers of stuff to cover it up. I really need this to go well. Really, really badly.

I asked myself whether or not I am tough enough for this. After almost 21 years of existing, I really am shocked, ashamed, afraid of that question. There is no die for me, its do. It seriously is do, do, do and no die. I am not weak. You didn't fail. This is going to work. I swear I am going to make it so.

HELP!

Four minutes to save the world.

This summer is going to be crazy. Its pretty major in the grand scheme of things. I have to basically make this the best I have ever had. I have to work till I drop. Study day and night and afternoons. I have to make things right, take good decisions and actually decide about the future, something that I have been avoiding for over a year. I am scared, excited but the thought of afternoons spent at TRL really is exciting. I need lots of luck going into the major leagues and I have to think about T as well. I really think I should go but I have to think about it, pray on it to get some clarity.

M and guys are coming this summer so that should be fun. Abu is also coming. He has a sixth sense about us children, he really does. S and I haven't been talking and none of us told him but he asked me as if he was sure. He is the best and he deserves the best so I hope that the qualifying goes well for S kal and so she can make it into Com. I have a long battle of a summer ahead. Walking into a minefield, seriously.

People really overhyped the new madonna album. Her album actually sucks, no really. I don't understand how she sold millions. The tracks are shit and its the just cheesy. Except 4 minutes. Even that doesn't save the album.

tick. tock.

Run with me through rows of speeding cars.

My mind is racing at a thousand miles per second. I am a total scatterbrain and I seriously can't keep up. I am doing one thing and my brain is running wild at tangents that are miles long in every possible direction. All this uncertainty sucks. It hurts. I can't focus. I have exams and the MCAT coming up. I need to calm the fuck down.

Things have been better. Definitely much better. I just need to patient.

Jane Austen said on page 99 in Northanger Abbey.

"Where people wish to attach, they should always be ignorant. To come with a well-informed mind is to come with an inability of administering to the vanity of others, which a sensible person would always wish to avoid. A woman especially, if she has the misfortune of knowing any thing, should conceal it as well as she can."
Northanger Abbey, volume 1, chapter 14

I don't know. I really don't.

They killed More.

Jeremy Northam=flawless. Such a tear-jerker:(

I can see the flame is gone, gone, gone.

You are the only other who knows and you help me keep it a secret. I need all the help in the world, I do. I do.

I can see the flame is gone.

http://postsecretfrance.blogspot.com/

Salt-wound routine.

I turned off my laptop, put McMurry aside and listened to the cars as they sped north and south on the 404. The cars cutting through the late cold winter wind makes such a harsh, yet beautiful sound. It really is an orchestra out there. The frequency, the amplitude of it changes with the time of day, day of the week and time of the year. The summers are usually just as loud but sound warmer. In the winter, it sounds like a blade cutting through steel, if thats even possible. Sounds malicious though or rather fierce, whichever way you look at it.

I really need a break. I do and while I am away, can we also rewind to the days of 0-three and go back and do it all over again,with the wisedom of today minus the experience of it all. A friend of sometime ago suggested that I needed an epiphany long ago. I believe that I need to wake up, snap out of this hellish nightmare. It all goes back really, to those certain days with shitty dsl, curious teenage minds, bitch-fests and wanting more and trying to be more. I wish I could erase it all off and start again with a fresh, clean white board.

I wouldn't miss anything if I were to go back, except, maybe sleeping to the lullaby of the eversoclose highway and ofcourse the black metal bed by the window peeking over suburbia.

In case I fall off the face of the earth

Austen. Austen.Austen. Austen. Austen. Austen.Austen.

Its like sleep amnesia.

Emma never really knew how to say the right things at the right time. She was accustomed to long pauses, anxiety attacks and being lost for words. Before going to bed each night, she would ponder over the highlights of the day and try to figure out if what she said was all she meant to say. Ofcourse, this was never true. She always had some 'ifs' or 'buts' to add or disagree with something that she previously agreed to. Being double-minded never helped, nor did being a dreamer. She made do with the fact that she thought herself to sleep everynight. Every morning the previous nights' thinking would just be erased.

Speeding cars.

There there baby
it's just text book stuff
it's in the ABC of growing up

- Imogen Heap

delta is greek for change.

I used to remember that long, long ago, I was the person who craved to be anything that I wasn't. I wanted to change everything about me, whether it was the people I was(or rather not hanging out with), the music I liked, the clothes I wore. Basically I wanted so much change in myself and it happened. It took time and some of it was great but you know they say that, 'too much of anything is bad', well it is-bad- if not ugly. It never occured to me, the greatness of all that we were and we could have been, I just wanted it all to be different. changechangechangechange. I wish that it was not the end result that I was in love with but the thrill of that chase for change. Hah, I have lost all compassion for everything that I once held sacred, close to my heart and now I am just a sell-out of what I thought was a 'charmed life'. No fucking way, it isn't. Now I find myself thinking 'what if this' more than a healthy number of times a day and I find myself understanding how the more things change, the more they stay the same. Nothing short of brilliance has happened since 99-till now but nothing less than horrendous has happened too. I am still the same person who craves change, it was once a strength. Now, its just a compulsion. I still want to change to be something else(this time its actually more than necessary) but really, what differs me from that starry eyed 11-year old.

The greeks have a great way of summening things up and change is one letter to them, a mere letter. A little triangle is my life's story.

The bathroom floor never complained.

She walked off the train like a zombie; cold and quiet with one foot in front of the other all the way to the bus platform. The air was getting colder every minute she spent in the middle of that line. Her ears turned red because of the -15 wind chill and her wool gloves weren't helping either. She stared in the direction of the bus route between each breath. It was a long day and rush hour didnt make it end any faster. They say the best way to fix a bad day is to end it. Its always easier said than done. The whole year had been like one, over stretched bad day and there was no ending it. Not only was it painfully long, it was slow, lonely and alienating. Thats one thing about secrets, that is the thing about secrets. The best day to tell it was yesterday, not today and definitely not tommorow. When you stayed quiet in the yesterday, your today and tommorow is served to you on a dark, cold platter. No matter how many buses you wait for, no matter how many excuses you give yourself about keeping things to yourself(the good, the bad and the god forbidden ugly), you are wrong. You can cry for as many hours as you want and no one listens to it. It doesnt matter if every sad lyric of every song relates to you. God is the only one who knows everything you have hidden and your bathroom floor is your comarade through the guilt trips, panick attacks and breakdowns. You lie down on the cold, green tiles and you cry, vent till your feet are numb and your face is drenched in your own saline tears. You are alone and you dont know what to do, so you hide it for another day and sleep for another lonely night and fake another tommorow.

The world indeed is a bigger place than you.

Let December 27, 2007 be witness to you realising that The world is indeed a bigger place than you. May Benazir Bhutto rest in peace and may her family's legacy continue. Regardless of which party you support/supported but as a Pakistani who had the chance of growing up in Pakistan as well as outside, I feel that both PPP and PML-N need to be around to keep a balance, a balance of power.

it's you when I look in the mirror.

Tough, you think you've got the stuff
You're telling me and anyone
You're hard enough

You don't have to put up a fight
You don't have to always be right
Let me take some of the punches
For you tonight

Listen to me now
I need to let you know
You don't have to go it alone

And it's you when I look in the mirror
And it's you when I don't pick up the phone
Sometimes you can't make it on your own

We fight all the time
You and I...that's alright
We're the same soul

I don't need...I don't need to hear you say
That if we weren't so alike
You'd like me a whole lot more

Listen to me now
I need to let you know
You don't have to go it alone

And it's you when I look in the mirror
And it's you when I don't pick up the phone
Sometimes you can't make it on your own

I know that we don't talk
I'm sick of it all
Can - you - hear - me - when - I -
Sing, you're the reason I sing
You're the reason why the opera is in me...

Where are we now?
I've got to let you know
A house still doesn't make a home
Don't leave me here alone...

And it's you when I look in the mirror
And it's you that makes it hard to let go
Sometimes you can't make it on your own
Sometimes you can't make it
The best you can do is to fake it
Sometimes you can't make it on your own

U2.

And How can I stand here with you and not be moved by you?

I have a pattern. When times get tough, I crawl back into my shell. I push people away and don't think twice. I know I am doing it and I still don't stop. Never been the sharing kind, never, no. The good, I can share and laugh about, but when faced with the bad, the painful, I am my own army.

We are going under the scissor again. December 10 seems light years away and we hope to not fall apart.

I think the dealing alone with the bad and the horrible really makes you stay unmoved. This IS horrible.

He said, 'make the right choices'.

Its sad how its easier to quote someone/something than think and come up with something, somewhat original. I have to so much to say that my head can hardly keep it in. If I start writing now, maybe I will write pages, and pages of mere non-sense, or sense. I don't know. Maybe, I would be tongue-tied as I am now. Who do you feel more? The person who fakes/lives a laugh, a happy care-free life just for others around him than for one who is the silent, quite, brooding type. There is no difference in remorse, so how, why do people compare.

I am tired. I really am. There were supposed to be lights. Maybe they are in my blind-spot. Considering that my peripheral vision is deteriorating, I might not be seeing whats already there, in my face, and real.(?)

If A. was there, maybe I would be. Or maybe, I wouldn't be.Some people have a knack for screw-ups, I am just well-versed in that. Um, yeah.

It isn't just surgeons. The truth is, I don't know anyone who isn't haunted by something, or someone. And whether we try to slice the pain away with a scalpel or shove it in the back of a closet, our efforts usually fail. So the only way we can clear out the cobwebs is to turn a new page or put an old story to rest, finally.

Grey's.

Allah!

Ami has surgery tommorow morning.I am really scared, she is the reason for us, for all of us. We just have her so make her okay, more than okay, make her great and healthy!

Please.

Thanksgiving?

Its 5:16pm and I have a 2-hour lecture at 6. I am tired and functioning on less than 3 hours of sleep. Thanksgiving weekend was supposed to be this extravagant affair with four days off from classes and three from work. There was supposed to be excessive sleeping, lazing, relaxing and getting somewhat ready for a somewhat decent eid. However, that was what could have been. Our house is a hub for Geo and ARY that play most if not all the time. Chachu and mom love politics and Musharaff's wardi is everybody's dhukhti rugg. This weekend, though, after avoiding tele for so long(if online tv counts, well then meh, I was glued to tv most of saturday and sunday. They were showing documentaries, newscasts and stories from Muzaffarabad, and other surrounding AK areas. I didn't see much of a change at all since october 8, 2005, People are still living in the ruins of places, they once called home. Its still home but with fewer walls, faith and ofcourse fewer people. The helicopter crash just acted as icing on the fucking cake. Areej and the girls cry louder now, for longer and it didn't help to see mamu's grave. How does a six year old understand that dad isn't coming home and nor are adorable, identical twin bothers that didn't even turn 2 yet?This 'thanksgiving' was to give thanks for what and who are left. The rest?well, the rest is there under a 2 storey house and a beyond extendded, extended, family.

Even the best fall down sometimes.

You are so tired of settling. Its about time that you go ahead and make amends. You so want to just say it and get it out. Its harder to live with everyone knowing than living with the fear of your close ones finding out some way. You always walk with the corner of your eye over your shoulder and even after making sure that all corners are covered, how do you ever be sure?You contend yourself with life, an empty life where you are living day-by-day and getting absolutely nowhere. You can't cry in the day because you are always out. You can't cry in the night because you can't afford to wake anyone up. So, you up this wall. This wall you hide behind all the time. Behind the big brown couches in the guest room, you roll up in the corner and you cry your heart out. You don't scream but weep, and weep and weep. You don't care for how puffy or red your eyes will be the next day. You find comfort and pain, both, in that time when your neck is drenched with saline tears and there is more to where that came from. You bow down your head and still the images of all those dreams and expectations flash by past you. You are a mess, a certified, spineless mess and you have no way to go. You don't know what to do. You can't ask anyone, you can't tell anyone. You are expected to just flatten up your perfect little skirt, get up, wash your puffy. pale face with cold water and go to bed. You sleep on it, on anything, on everything and nothing at the same time. You lie in bed for atleast an hour, flipping your pillow over, turning your head around, counting how many times you have done that. Its not a sleepless night, no being awake is far too painful. You force your circadian to bed.

Maybe just maybe, tommorow, this would all feel like a dream: as if it had never happened. You wish, pray, it never happened.

We burried truth under playgrounds.

oh yes!

edit.

Temporary peace, somewhat.phew.

Drift away.

This song, oh man. I have been hearing this at different places for the past four years. Every mall that I have ever been to(okay maybe not ALL of them but most of them) have played this. I only knew the chorus and after finally googling it, I finally found it=D. I thought today would be hell, it was hell, hell at work. Argh. But school was awesome, haha, not such a great sleep bio lecture followed by an awesome 2 hour physio haul, I came out feeling relieved/happy/smarter. Hehehe. Tuesdays are such the hell.

And oh this song!!!It feels like warm white chocolate mocca on 7am winter mornings:):)

confessions of a kaamchor.

Ramzan and days are flying past me like a total blur these days. Wake up for sehri, eat, get ready for work, go to work, go to class, come home for iftar, homework and then off to bed. WTH, what happened to being lazy:( ??!!

I need to start praying, at least now. seriously.

labour day weekend.

This long weekend was lovely. Cousins came by and we went over. Finally went to demetres and had 75 dollars worth of desserts(yikes!, shopped for back-to-school. It was a nice relaxing weekend with lots of telly, granola bars, ludo and failed attempts at learning chess. Since my talk with Abu and M that day, I am trying to keep my head leveled and myself calm. Things have a strange way of unfolding themselves so I/we shall see what happens next. For now, I am a little calm. I just finished watching The Hills, washed my hair and seen that the girlies are ready for school tommorow. I absolutely love the time for back to school, I just hope that this year isn't any different from all the other years:).

Oh no I've said too much.

Every whisper
Of every waking hour I'm
Choosing my confessions
Trying to keep an eye on you
Like a hurt lost and blinded fool
Oh no I've said too much
I set it up

This is the fourth blog post I have started writing in the past two days. I don't quite know how to say I feel. I had a chat with M after a very long time yesterday and she made me realise something, something I knew forever but never acted on. I just HAVE to stop drowning in self pity right about now. Whats done is done eh, and can't do anything to mend the past so fucking move on better, brighter things. Ofcourse, that doesmn't mean that moving on overrides your guilt of what you could have stopped but to look past it and not let it come in the way of the life you need(and want). Repeat: get over it, get over it. I am listening to REM's losing my religon and I know that I can't be sure of what happens until I try to live beyond whats happened. The song ends now. I still feel the way you feel after you cry your eyes out and your eyes are burning red and your nose is puffy and stuffy. I start the start over again.

Life is bigger
It's bigger than you
And you are not me
The lengths that I will go to
The distance in your eyes
Oh no I've said too much
I set it up

I haven't said enough.

I am exhausted and can definitely do with a vacation right about now.

I hate how we have all become fragments.

We burried truth under playgrounds.

At the end of the day, you are alone with the things you have done.

(asofterworld)

Not stuck in reverse!

Yesterday, Poshi got her O level marks. She did brilliantly, that girl. She deserved it and SO much more. I remember it like yesterday when I went home after IB and there she was running around Mara Api and I debating between doing Matric or its british equivelent. She couldnt make her mind up, heh. Deep down, though, it was obvious that she was bound to do the Os and pass them flying colours. Never did she nor I think that years later, when she would be done, she would be in Islamabad and not Muzaffarabad in the comfort of her Upper Chattar home, getting phone calls and best wishes from cousins, aunts and friends, alike. We would have been driving around in Chachu's or Masood Uncle's gaari, going down to Madina Market, spending the last of every penny in our pockets for junk we didnt need and then going up to Chinari and pigging out while watching our serene little town.

Now our houses are rented out by NGOs who have been sitting on their asses and not doing anything to mend the cracks(literal ones) in our walls, roads, schools. Islamabad is (apparently) the new home now. The thought of it being home was nice before the earthquake, but now, we all just want to be back home. For now, Poshi is settling for a video I-pod, lots of phone calls and happysad tears all around. My youngest phupo is a trooper, she made all the difference.

:)

greysisdefinitelynotmedicinebutthisisit.

"Too often, the thing you want most is the one thing you can't have.Desire leaves us heartbroken, it wears us out. Desire can wreck your life. But as tough as wanting something can be...the people who suffer the most,are those who don't know what they want."

- Grey's Anatomy

I live for yesterdays.

If you know me, you would know how I love to rant about/think about my life currently compared to what it used it be.

You live for yesterdays

, a friend once pointed out to me. I wish that we could go back into that tiny window of time and live some of the good, some of the bad and even some of the nasty, just so that the life we are in today doesn't seem so aweful. I spend hours thinking about how one decision changed our course of life and then another one changed it more and then another brought us through twists and turns and led us to this. My mind has gotten used to multi tasking/thinking now. I can think about 'yesterday's debate' while doing whatever it maybe: work, read, study, panick, have a conversation with a friend about how her ex- and her were just a wrong fit or how your low gpa from first year will not completely screw up your chances of getting into Med School or even how I should be using the tredmill lying uselessly in the garrage.

I feel the change that I have gone through in the last 8 or so years. From being that shy little kashmiri girl to being a loud, outspoken, often corky and (seemingly) well- centered girl. I don't like what the transformation has led to and seeing all this change makes some people very happy and often proud of me. But this change doesn't seem to me as major as people around me feel it to be. I am still the same in-secure person who could(/does) cry at the drop of a hat. I still can't say what I feel and still keep everything botteled up in me. I hate how this 'exterior' change is something that people love to compliment and so I love to dig into old memories, times, things to make myself feel better. Life isn't horrible. Its just me, who can't stop complaining. I hate how post secret has to have the right postcard at the time when my mind is over worked, worried and too tired to let me sleep.

Maybe I should stop- here- now.

make sense?NO!NEVER

I wish I knew how to say what I feel.

I wish I was not a coward and could just say it, despite the consequences that would surely be very un-ordinary. Its scary when you are sitting alone in a brightly lit room, yet see/feel grey around you.


You are as sick as your secrets.

Potter!

Rowling has all of us dancing on the ink of her pen. Even khana can wait whilst we finish chapters and digest each word to the fullest. MCAT prep on hold until the weekend. Work and HP this week:D

666=zero.

The cool basemeet in the Khan household was used to the loud clacker of the ludo dice against the orange tyelenol bottle. It was a noise that was a regular one during sleepless summer nights, full of sloppy indian movies, re-runs of friends and the OC, ludo, cards and ofcourse tonnes and tonnes of junk food.

The ludo posse consisted of the somewhat fantastic and fanatical foursome; Zoya, Hina, Zainab and Mano. The four cousins would spent hours going around those tiny little boxes on a ludo board that they miraculously found at the start of what might have been a boring/quiet summer break. Each game of pawns and dice would be followed by snack time/nap time/ venting time. The most frequent loser, Zoya, would bitch at the other three to the point where the group would rather sleep(like thats any use in the summmer) than play ludo with partners with any of the remaining three in the group. Hence, the only way forward would be individual game, where all four would go head to head against each other.

Cut, cut, cut, cut, runnn mann, runnnnnn, double ko paas ni kar saktay, ohh meri star peh hai, and, the the crowd pleaser, single pawn cutting a triple was everyone's fav. except the one who would get cut. It got an aplause every single time it happened and happened all so very often to Zoya, who previously beleived that ludo was HER thing.These four cousins would battle it out every night all throught the dry and humid june till july. No one kept count of how many times they played but the pile of wrappers of 5 rupee ki jet sport and empty pepsi bottles would be evidence enough of the magnitude of the intensity in the room. Finally, it would be Chachi's scream from the third floor that would send the girls running and off to bed, leaving behind the dice where it was and the pawns lined up exactly the way they were to be picked up again next night.

3 am was the time that Chachi would call out to them. 'Utho warna mein aati hoon' would the curfew and then the loud party room would be left silent and dark. The only sounds getting the room through the rest of the night would be the zrrrrs of all of the individuals ACs that would be on in each of the bed rooms and the drops of water that would drip down from the tiny exit pipes at the back.The formerly lively living room would await life that would come back with nightfall and end to begin the cyle again at sehri.

Get away!

You know that you are beyond helpless when the tv show,you spent your teenage years despising and venting against, becomes the main activity of your time. I never knew that kids in Newport beach would make me re-consider my life. I am stuck in a spiral.

Tearing up to fictional teenage drama!Is this what I am bargaining for now?

twenty.

Its going to be a brand new year and I mean that. I always make promises, which I never end up following through. This year, no more promises - actions. Actions speak louder than words. Its always great to have something old and familiar when you are putting yourself out on the line. The year of the twenty:)

Repentance.

You're only as sick as your secrets
But the truth will set you free
The truth is the truth
And all you can do is live with it

- Dream Theater.
(22/6/2007)

1:09 am.

Its another night and I am back home now, again with a heavy heart.

Good bye Glenn?

There is but much to say about life and how things are here, but that can wait. The day, Saturday, April 24th '07 was all of Mr Glenn McGrath's. I wish to say more words about the happysad end of world cup 2007 but less is more during exam time. Good luck you:D

AHHH!

Stop haunting me already, I am tired of being sadtired. Tired of being sad tired.

And now all the good kids are messing up.

exams.

I am going out of my mind now. Read, read, Read, read, Read.

I don't even know if I can do this. Help me!!

Time Time Time, Oh bloody time.

Well into a wednesday.

Long, long day today. Felt totally useless for the most of it but GREEATTTT last Zoo252 lecture of the year. Beautiful course(I hope I do well in:D) and the proff is sucha funny man. He looks like one of those old (mean looking) german football(soccer coaches) but he has the funniest sense of humour. He is like me in a way, tells the most awkward jokes at the wrong times. But he is smart, maha smart. I jelous.

Right now, I am listening to Sarah, Aemon and Momina's school stories. They are so adorable and funny. It makes me feel like an aged aged person. Meh, its cute that I can relate to so much of it. Girls are such funny people when they are growing up, well minus Sarah who is already 17.

I felt very awkward when I went to shop for friday's dinner. I found nothing, actually didnt look hard enough. Eaton Center is too damn big, plus I would rather shop at Winners and not bother going from store to store. Ergh, such an awkward feeling. really strange.

I am listening to Anesthetize from PT's album. Its my first listen. First impression, love love love the begining. 16:44 mins. to go. I should update my mp3 player soon.

Back to zoo reading. cardiovascular=fascination=D.

If only it was easy to say it the way it is, we would all be at a warmer place.

forgive me?

YAY

This was ownage=D.

Nicole go next!!

friday is the love.

Today is my first friday off after so long. I always have class and or work and hence I am never home till 10 pm. I have missed so many jummas that I can't even count but not today(YAYAY!). Praying jumma makes me so happy. It gives a good conclusion to a hectic week and has us go into lazy/crazy weekend mode. I have had a weeek from hell this week. But, all of my labs for the year are finished now and have no more essays or quizes to worry about. Yes, its crazy that second year is almost over. I have exams between april 24th to may 2nd. I HAVE HAVE HAVE to ace them this year. Need NEED NEEEEEEEEEEEEED good GREAT gpa:(

I am scared but happy. Since I gave yesterday's essay in, there is a certain silence in my head. Its strange. One more week of classes and then exam prep time.

and then there is cricket!!=D
fightfightfightfight!

kaam karo pagal!

Note to self: Can't screw up this paper!All the sleep and the lazy/wasting time can be done post 12:30 pm tommorow. Imli is such a distraction. I have been pigging out on that plus cricket all day toady, I don't want to pull in an all-nighter tonight. MUST GET DONE NOW!

and

http://www.fin.gov.on.ca/english/publications/salarydisclosure/2006/univer06.html


this is pagalpan:O

Say na Say na!

After researching on Lahore for the last 5 hours, I deserve some msn/blog time. I hate how the router at home blew up yesterday. Zainab and Shazi's fighting key karnaamay, I am stuck working from here. I shouldn't mind it. The mausam is nice and I have a nice table and I have coke. The weather is nice. A little drizzle too. Pretty grey/blue sky and just the right wind. yum!

I am a procastinator. Jahanumi insaan!!.

Perfume: The Story of a murderer

Aila gave me this link, which has a crap loads of movies and shows online. Saturday night had us girls lazy and so we searched around on the site and stumbled upon Perfume: The Story of a murderer. I will be the first to admit that I didn't totally understand the end of it but it was a good watch nevertheless. The acting was amazing, subtle yet so powerful. I lovedd the role of the protagonist who ended up being the antagonist too. It was a beautifully done film. It was a little long and dry(in the middle of the film) as the story dragged along from the birth of Jean-Baptiste till well his end. Even despite the shameless nudity in some parts, the movie was brilliant. The actor, Ben Whishaw, is a gem of an actor-such a powerful(bordering on dark, according to Sarah) character done in such a tasteful manner. Superb!I wish I understood the end well but from whatever I did end up gathering, the movie was nothing short of excellent!

Urbanisation lecture(march 30, 2007): aftermath.

There is more to come.
Shift Happens.

realisation #986572798098398

In the past, I lived in and for the future. In the present, I have been trying to re-live the past that once was. I think this right here is why I lost my way.


There, I said it.

To blossom blue is to blossom without you.

Its such a different spring, this spring. I am uninspired, lost and definitely not focused. The fact that I miss all of you sucks even more, makes it harder. It definitely does. These are the hardest days of our lives and for what its worth, its all blue despite this warm, bright sun.

I need grace. I am lost without it.

audioslave.

Audioslave put things into perspective on the train ride from home to campus. There is so much going on. You try to make it through all that jazz, trying to stand up and be brave. You put yourself in this cold, stone-hard shell where you seem to be this perfectly strong person who can carry their world on your shoulders.They are convinced so they load you up with expectations and aspiration. You put on that strong act, you try to follow through with it. You keep up that cold exterior and then you see someone saying that they HATE you and it hits you. Now, you feel cold and alone on a sidewalk at the bottom of a hill. You are too sad and scared to go up, but you can't show it. You just can't.

Even Sadaf baji can break down, you knnow..

!

saturday and sunday:D

Alhamdulilah

I am so relieved right now. Oh God, Thank you so so so much.

wow.

o'my.

the world is crashing down, I can feel it. I can.

this is

torture.

hope.

Everybody's got a hold on hope It's the last thing that's holding me

- Hold on Hope - Guided by Voices


(postscret)

Oh No!

I am scared shitless now.

At my most beautiful: part 2.

I get overwhelmed when I go into Gerstein. I think its because of my insecurity when I am in that place. All the people who are in Life Science study at Gerstein. You got to the computers, the person next to you has the same Human Bio course book as you, hence in your class. You look at them and then on the screen they are looking at, they are reviewing lecture notes, or listening to lecture recordings or even on Biome.

It scares you so you move and get yourself to a corner spot. A couple of people on the next table spend the whole day reading The Bio text book and annotating their slides, memorising, reading, learning. You look at yourself, the fool that you are, the over ambitious dumb ass who hasn't yet seen a sight of a 4.0 gpa at uoft. You feel so disgusted with yourself, You hate your life. You don't hate life sciences but you hate the school you are at. You feel heavy, you feel like crying. You rush to the ladies room. You lock yourself up in a stall and have a good cry. You are still conscious of the others in the washroom, so you hurry out, wash your face with ice cold water and get out of there before anyone sees your puffy, bloodshot eyes. You are walking out when you run into people from your classes. You see Wess, you try to avoid him but you say hi. Then you see Alina and Raza walk out and Alina stops you for a little chat. You open the door to the stairs and you see Usman with his bunch of friends who know your other friends(who are all life sciencers). You make small-talk with them while your head is pounding.

You finally get out, breath the cold winter air. You see Con Hall in front of you. You feel happysad. You know that this is/was your first choice. You loved it when you came here for the first visit. You are happy because you feel warm knowing the giant commonly known as Uoft but you feel sad at the lack of work you do, even though you are here. You feel so gutted. The aweful feeling of being at Gerstein returns when you are crossing King's Circle and approaching Knox.

Your head is heavy and so you decide to go home. After a two hour commute later, you are home with your books open but you feel too tired to work so you go to sleep. You wake up the next morning, get ready for class, pack up your books, print off the lecture slides and head out. You decide to work at woodsworth today and you go into the study space, find a table, lamp and chair and sit your ass down for the longest, grueling 9-6 studying period before your HMB midterm in Kruger Hall. You study during the day, taking a long an hour and a half lunch with Aila where all you can think about is how you will screw up the midterm. Your food tastes like nothing but you eat it because you are hungry and you get back to work. You give your midterm and you come out. You feel weirdly numb(comfortably, perhaps?). You feel lighter. You don't know the outcome yet. You think that you gave it your best.

You feel lighter. The ride home from campus doesn't feel so long anymore. You actually feel happy inside your head. You try to compare it to something you have felt before. You remember it and you smile. It was always this. This was exactly what you were missing. The high that you have after you feel like you have genuinely gotten some work done is where you feel most releived. The warmest in your own skin and definitely as your most beautiful.

At my most beautiful.

My parents are the best thing that has happened to me. I am indeed a very lucky person to have them on my side, all the time. I, on the other hand, am still trying to make them happy/proud/lucky that I am on their side. I feel that I used to have this one spark in me that died in the past year. The spark reassured me that I was good enough to be part of this family, my family. Every passing day, I try to find that spark again. And yet, I give up on it by the end of the day. I won't stop trying though. Try everyday, everyhour.

My parents really are the best and I pray for them everyday. I pray that we all can grow old together. My family of four is brilliant, we are even better in the bigger picture when we are with our chachu, mamus, phupos, etc. I actually have a functional family unlike some people I know. I actually LOVE to hangout at home with my folks than out in some party or a mall with friends. Maybe because I am at my happiest with them that I never wanted to give into the peer pressure of the clubbing/drugs business. I like being clean and I am doing my level best to get rid of the wrong kind of socialising in my life. The socialising whereby you spend hours trying to fix up the other person's life. You go as far as losing sleep over them and making international calls at weird hours of the day. All for what?For people, you haven't met, nor will ever meet but just know through someone or something in many cases(re: forums,msn). What a waste I am. What a waste.

Abu and Ami talked the other day and he asked her a few things about Sarah and I. It broke my heart, it really did. I hate how ami broke into tears when she talked to me about what he said. All he asked about was school and to tell us that 'bachay parho aur kuch nahi'. They deserve better, everyday. I can't change history but I can make/change whats to come. I going to be that better for them. I will do anything and everything to be that better. That better that I should(should've already been) be and the better that they deserve.

InshAllah!