A few years ago, there was this Emirates Airlines commercial in which two African men arrive in London. As soon as they are in their hotel room, one of the guys sees through the window that it's starting to snow outside. His face lights up, he points it out to his buddy, and they both make a run for the outdoors. When they reach the lobby, they check themselves and walk. Then as soon as they exit the hotel, they bolt again and start playing in the snow happily. At the end, the commercial asks 'When was the last time you did something for the first time?' (edit: found it on youtube! http://youtu.be/BySDvPRY6kg) That has been one of the most memorable commercials I have ever seen, and it is a very profound way to approach life; being open to doing new things and seeking adventure. Why not experience as many things as possible in life? I've been to many places within Pakistan and a few countries abroad, but I need to do some things before I die:



1. In Spain, every year people release a bunch of angry bulls in the narrow streets of Pamplona and run infront of them. The bulls are lead to the arena where the bullfighting takes place. While I'm against bullfighting itself, this is an event that presents the bulls a chance to gore and maim the creatures at the top of the food chain; us humans. Wouldn't it be an epic story to tell friends, if I go there and run and survive? One must do things like this just for the lulz. 



2. Does one really need to justify the desire to go scuba diving? The Oceans are truly the final frontier, because we know more about space than we do about whats in the oceans. I would like to dive in the Great Barrier Reef (should watch out for those darned Sting Rays!), but any nice clean ocean will do. My cousins and uncles in Australia are pretty crazy about scuba diving. Oh, and even Karachi has scuba diving now, but who'd want to do it in the boring waters here?


3. Visit Tokyo, Japan. I love how unique Japanese culture is. And for such a massive city, Tokyo is spotlessly clean. Crime is almost 0 in all of Japan. Japanese food is healthy, since the Japs live pretty long. And I like anime (Fuck you, not all of it is like Pokemon).


4. Learn to fly a plane. It's expensive to study and train for a private pilot's license, but I think I might be able to manage it someday. I'm the son of a pilot, I cannot go through life without learning to fly. I can see myself taking my friends and family for a ride on a Cessna and then trolling them by saying 'Ok guys, I'm getting vertigo, one of you is going to have to land this thing'.  


5. Visit any place where the Northern Lights are visible. After reading the Golden Compass as a kid, I've got to see this. 

 My father has finally retired from the air force, and we have begun packing our stuff to move out of Faisal Base. Most of my life has been spent on various air bases across the country. I was even born in Masroor Base. Although we are moving to the Falcon Housing colony which is attached to Faisal base, many of the benefits of being in the military are over. No more staff car with free fuel, no more free phones & internet, no more 'getting things done' at places like the passport office by simply bringing a military police officer with me. Mom and dad will have free healthcare for life, and my brother and I will too until we are 27. We can also travel on the C-130, just like serving officers can.  We have what is called a 'Brigadier House' in real estate lingo, built for much cheaper than it would cost a civilian to acquire the equivalent amount of land and get the construction done.

Which leads me to wonder what civilian life heralds. I'm imagining myself working as a engineer in Karachi, and I'm not amused by the amount of problems I can foresee. Security problems, both physical and job wise are a constant threat. Trying to get anything done, even something as simple as getting a drivers license cannot be achieved easily if you are a civilian. I can bear standing in line, but I cannot bear having to bribe corrupt assholes for every little thing. And its not like engineers are paid very handsome salaries in Karachi, if they find a job in the first place.

Once I complete my bachelors degree in engineering, I'm hoping to apply for the air force. I can live in a nice clean base with no security threat, I have always been interested in weapon systems such as fighter planes and missiles so I will definitely enjoy job satisfaction. I love the air force life, but I'm sure to face the same issues which my parents faced, and which prevented my dad from being promoted to a higher rank. If I do join the air force, I don't think any educated, liberal girl from an urban area is going to want to marry me! What would an air force officer's wife living in Kamra or Risalpur or Mianwali do for a living? Vast majority of military wives are simply housewives, and they play a huge role in advancing their husband's careers, by sucking up to the wives of her husband's bosses. My mother worked as a school teacher in PAF schools most of her life, so this is one aspect which prevented dad from advancing further than he did. She was not always present at PAF Womens Association meetings. And I want my wife to work as well. 

Another big impediment to my dad's (and mine, if I join the AF) career growth is the fact that we are muhajirs. Its is an open secret that the military is heavily biased in favor of Punjabis and Pathans. But I think I can overcome this political aspect.

So in conclusion, civilian life beckons. I may or may not become an air force officer myself. If I do, I'll be happy to reach 1 star rank. Until then, let me see how the rest of Pakistan lives. 

I am seriously thinking about going vegetarian. I've already cut out cigarettes, hookah/shisha, weed, and alcohol from my life and right now I feel like becoming a vegetarian would help me in the long term. Given my family's Muslim culture, it will be hard to explain at family dinners or even to my friends why I've stopped eating meat. I'm not even sure I'll be getting adequate nutrition and I wonder if it will be a lot harder for me to obtain vegetarian food. I have to introduce the idea to my mom and see what she says.

I dunno why I suddenly feel really health conscious. But who doesn't want to live long and prosper? Vegetarian foods are delicious, I've loved them since I was a kid. Here's to hoping going vegetarian won't be a short-lived experiment and that I can succeed in this transition.

At this point, I rate my chances of success at 40%.

First of all, why the fuck do I get chosen for a "random extra security check" every time? Oh yeah, cause I'm brown. "Take off your shoes and belt, please". I stand in a fucking glass chamber while the morons go through my bags. They pass weird magnetic disks over my bags and laptop. The white people who are also chosen for these "random extra checks" are let through without being frisked or having their bags checked. Extremely fucked up, but justified I guess. The blame for this lies with the terrorists, who are unfortunately mostly brown and middle eastern looking like me. 

So anyway, I board a Delta airlines plane which is 3.5 hours late and get to JFK at 11 am instead of 7:30 am like I was supposed to. That means my international connecting flight left before I landed at JFK. Now what the fuck do I do? I try going to the Etihad counter by taking a train from terminal 3 to terminal 4. But guess what, the idiots have left for the day, and it's just after 11 and they won't be around until 7 am the next day. Now what? I go to the information desk downstairs in the arrivals area, and they give me the number of Etihad airlines and I call them and they tell me to call my travel agent through whom I booked the flights. I call them, and it takes about 5 hours of talking and countless repeats of my situation to find out that if I want to proceed, I'd have to pay a further $800. WTF??? This shit ain't my fault, why do I have to pay that much to go home? Either that, or cancel the rest of the journey and not get a refund for the hop to NY plus they would charge a $200 fee for cancellation. Seriously, what? 

So now I'm sitting here in a lounge in terminal 4 waiting for 7 am tomorrow. It may be that they will charge me $150 to issue a new boarding card, but I have only $143 with me because I had to eat today. But what if they really do charge $800? I met an Indian guy and an African guy who were both going to Mumbai and Dubai respectively and they both had missed their flights. They told me they easily got issued new boarding passes without paying anything. At this, I got even more pissed. So I took the train again to terminal 2 and Delta tells me that since they are not affiliated with Etihad, they cannot tell the later to not charge me a "change" fee for the itenerary. The Indian guy had been waiting since yesterday, he slept here in the terminal.

Looks like I will be doing the same thing tonight. I also had to go to the baggage depratment and ask them to find my bags for me since I didn't want them shipped to Abu Dhabi in case I didn't get on the flight tommorrow. My back hurts from sitting on the floor all day, I've been hearing screaming, crying children all day. All this would be more bearable if I had someone travelling with me.

Don't know when I will finally reach my destination. This sure has dented my enthusiasm for travelling by air.

PS. I hope the person who designed this airport has his mother tit raped by a donkey. After much walking and searching, I finally found an outlet that charges my laptop and by some miracle the wireless has stayed connected long enough for me to post this. People in other countries think NY is great and all that. It may be, but a lot of things about it absolutely suck.

I love women. I really, really do. But at the same time I'm really glad I'm a guy for mainly two reasons:

1) We have it easier in life

2) We have a much better sense of humor than ladies.

Guy humor is very brutal. It consists entirely of ripping all other guys around you to shreds, especially if there are attractive females in attendance. Men in the stone age may have fought each other with clubs for the chance to mate with the females, but now this ritual has taken a more subtle form. Guys are supposed to make themselves look good (confident/macho/leader/alpha) and make the other males look bad (weak/pussy/bitch/wimp). That is the sole purpose of jokes guys direct at each other.

I realized this, funnily enough, quite recently. Guys don't look at each other and say "aww your new haircut looks so cute!". A few days ago a friend was driving me and another friend somewhere, and out of nowhere the passanger friend says to the driver, with a tone of utmost profound seriousness, "Hey dude, why do you hold the wheel like a faggot?" This was so unexpected that I burst out laughing. Upon noticing, it did look like the driver was grasping the wheel as if he was cupping somebody's butt. 

Race/ethnicity is the favorite topic guys rip on. We ask Asian friends why they are sleeping (eyes are too narrow) and I get told not to blow shit up. People from different countries get joked about their nationality. If someone is Italian American then they are guidos, if someone is Irish American then they are drunkards. I thought each and every guy accepted that other guys are going to rip on him - call him a faggot, jew, terrorist, pussy etc. But some guys (nerds) just don't get it. Their inabilty to come back at taunts thrown at them is why they are easy targets in life. 

So yeah. If you're a guy,  stop sucking dick. If you're a girl, then...how are you?

 This past weekend I went to see my cousin who I hadn't met in a while. He's a really cool guy and we always do insane shit when we chill. So me and my cousin Jimmy met up with a few of his friends who turned out to be cool as well. They were 4 guys, we wasted time at one of their houses and then 1 guy left.
 
So now it was 5 of us (including my cousin and I). We drove to a dark residential street, parked and rolled up 3 joints, got high and then watched 'A Nightmare on Elm Street'. Right after it ended, the guy named Cash said we should go to this creepy graveyard because I had never seen it. The others agreed, and while we were driving there, they started daring each other to walk through the graveyard alone.
 
The whole time we were driving there, I thought "No fucking way am I walking through a graveyard!". My cousin and another guy named Drip were talking the most shit, saying they could easily do it and that they weren't scared. Drip was acting like he didn't even believe in ghosts etc. As we got near the place, my cousin said to Cash (who was driving) "Let these guys see what they're getting themselves into. Drive around the graveyard to show them how big it is." And it took us a good while to drive around it. It is located on a street called Hollywood Road, and on both sides of it there are thick coverings of trees. Near the gates of the cemetary there was almost complete darkness. The gates were of iron, and there were two stars of David on them.
 
We stopped near the gate. After seeing the size of the place, nobody had the balls to actually walk through the place alone. Until I saw that place I thought I did not believe in ghosts or any of that shit and I usually laugh at people who say they've seen ghosts, but at that time I could have pissed my pants if I had to go in there alone. My cousin was still acting badass though I could tell he wouldn't do it. He told us he'd walk through it alone, but if he did we'd have to sleep in the graveyard all night.
 
So Cash got scared of being called a pussy for not taking up the offer and started driving home. We were half way back before we convinced him to turn around. When we got back, nobody had the guts to do it and again we started driving home. We drove around for 3 hours before we finally decided to do it, primarily on my insistance because I wanted to prove to myself that I was not scared of no fucking ghosts.
 
When we got there again, Drip again refused to do it and so did the other guy called Sophy. I kept insisting and me, my cousin and Cash slowly edged towards the extremely scary, dark entrance to the graveyard. I opened the gate, but the other two were trying to light cigarettes so they didn't see it. As soon as they looked up, the screamed at the top of their lungs and ran back to the SUV. I mildly panicked because I didn't know why they were screaming but they must have seen a ghost right? No. They screamed because the gate had apparently been opened by a ghost. I told them I had opened it when they weren't looking. So after 10 more minutes of insistance on my part, I finally took the first step beyond the gate. Cash and Jimmy followed about 5 feet behind me.
 
One thing I noticed was that from just a few inches behind the entrance, you could not see shit inside. It was completely pitch black. At most you could see the outlines of the oak trees inside. But once I crossed the gates, everything turned blue. It was so blue inside that we had no trouble seeing anything, even though there was not a single light anywhere near where we were.
 
We were scared out of our minds and walking forwards very slowly, looking around, ready to bolt back towards the SUV. We walked on and on...leaves rustled on the ground, trees made whooshing noises, but we didn't see any ghosts. We walked around the entire pathway inside, and the guys waiting in the car kept calling us, they were worried. But I told Cash and Jimmy not to pick up cause I wanted them to think we died or something. I was afraid we'd see the undertaker walking around, that would have been enough to cause us all to scream like pussies and run. But nothing happened. We calmed down, talked about death and what we felt walking through this place and how we took life for granted. We said we were glad we did it.
 
After about 20-25 mins inside, we came back out. Jimmy said before we went in that we should come out before 3 AM because that is apparently when the spirits rise up and stuff. We had forgotten to look at the time when we were inside but back in the car we realized we came out at 2:59 AM. And guess what else we realized? There was no moon in the sky that night. We were shocked into silence for an entire minute when we realized that. Because it was so light blue inside the graveyard, we could have sworn there was a full moon above us, but there wasn't.
 
Before going in we were also scared because it was Jewish cemetary, and Cash had been making Jew jokes, saying he'd piss on their graves and stuff. When he went inside he was so scared he did not say a single thing against Jews or go anywhere near a grave. Jimmy was saying the ghosts would be pissed we were with this anti-Jewish guy :P
 
Anyway, we drove back home and Drip and Sophy told us they were scared for us and were gonna come in if we didn't answer the phone or come back out a little later than we did. They gave us mad props and respect for having the balls to go in.
 
This is the graveyard, from Google maps.
 

Brandon couldn’t sleep. He’d been lying in bed for three hours now but he wasn’t any closer to being asleep than he’d been when he’d forced himself to lie down in bed; hoping his mind would grow weary of the dark thoughts haunting his consciousness so mercilessly and drift off to slumber. He felt physically tired, he had a dull headache, but the alternate reality of sleep still eluded him. Craning his neck towards his clock, Brandon saw that it was 4:27 am. Letting out a half-groan, half-sigh, Brandon got up and pulled on his jeans and walked out of his room. Tiptoeing across the living room so as not to wake the others, he knew exactly where he was going.

As he stepped through the front door threshold, Brandon took a huge sniff of the cool autumn air. Closing the door gently behind him, he walked down the driveway and turned left on the street. After walking for a couple of minutes, Brandon took the shortcut through the path between the two condo buildings and his feet felt the transition between the hard asphalt and the grass upon which he was now walking. This was his early morning destination: the park. Brandon loved coming here, to this simple playground which during the evenings was full of younger kids playing football or tag and king of the hill. Brandon jogged towards the swings and slumped into the nearest one. Gently rocking himself backwards and forwards, Brandon looked up at the dark sky full of billions of tiny white specks. The nearest street lights were far enough to make the center of the park dark so he couldn’t be seen from the condos surrounding the park. And good thing too, because he didn't want to explain to anyone what he was doing here at this ungodly hour. As Brandon tried to remember the constellation name of a crisp formation of stars, he heard something directly behind him, but before he could react, he felt something grab his right shoulder. Nearly jumping out of his skin, he whilred around and tried to get up from the swing at the same time and nearly fell off.

"Mary!"

If Brandon was to be forced to choose one person on this planet to intrude upon his moment of solitude, it would easily be Mary. She was a year older than him, but someone who he could listen to, someone who for some reason had a genuine interest in him. Though Brandon wasn't sure what their relationship was called.

"What are you doing here at five in the morning? It's a school night." asked Mary.

"I should be asking you the same question!"

"I wanted to swing" she said with a smile.

Mary took the swing next to Brandon but did not start swinging.

"So, your turn to tell me why you're here." Brandon looked at her partially visible face, acutely aware of the mysterious aura surrounding the moment. Mary had brown hair, brown eyes and a thin nose - which she often cunched when anyone said something she deemed unfit of a response - and overall, Brandon thought she was quite pretty. Mary's younger brother was Brandon's younger brothers best friend, and since their parents were good friends too, they made an unspoken agreement to be close as well. Brandon preferred listening to talking, and since Mary loved to talk, they made a great pair. Even at school, Mary would often come upto him during lunch and make references to their time spent together after school, promting Brandons friends to ask him over and over again if she was his girlfriend. Brandon never had an answer, and even if he did, he would not give it to them.

"I..." began Brandon, questioning himself about what exactly he should say now. He wasn't prepared for this; although a part of him was very glad to see her, Brandon was supposed to come here and leave by himself. "...couldn't sleep, and wanted to kill some time until the school bus comes."

"I see." said Mary. The distant streetlights reflected in her eyes, making them look black and white. "So you are going to go to school without any sleep?"

"Yeah, I can survive. I've done it before."

Mary did not answer, and looked away from Brandon for the first time since sneaking up on him. Brandon looked at the trees lining the edge of the park. He loved trees, especially when there was a gentle breeze and their leaves were making a soothing rustling noise as they were right now. Niether of them said anything for a minute.

"Mary"

"Hmm?"

"Have you ever felt...unreal?" said Brandon rather sheepishly.

"That's a very profound question. Are you in philosophy mode again?" Mary said with her trademark half-smile.

This time Brandon did not answer, and they sat in silence for a minute again. Mary started swinging lightly. Brandon started feeling intense panic rising within him. What was he going to do now? Now that she was here, it would make everything infinitely harder. This is why he had chosen this time - so that he would not have to deal with anybody and do it without having second thoughts - but now Mary was here and he would have to explain. Brandon decided it was now or never, and he opened his mouth to talk, but the words that came out of it were completely irrelevant and unimportant: "So you're gonna wait with me until the bus comes at 7?"
Mary looked at him again, but with curiosity, an expression which only Brandon could elicit from her. She replied "Yeah, unless you don't want me to?". Brandon knew why she had that look - it was a given that she would wait with him - once they were together, they could not be voluntarily separated. "No, no it's not t-, uh I mean, of course I want you to stay here."

Mary raised an eyebrow and said suspiciously, "What's wrong with you today? I don't think you're feeling well. You shouldn't go to school without any sleep."

Brandon now knew why he was feeling so apprehensive. It was not what he was about to do today, but the thought of explaining it to Mary that was making him a nervous wreck. "Wow, I'm a coward." thought Brandon. "Pull yourself together you pussy!" shouted a harsh voice in his head. "Be a man, grow a pair of balls and just tell her, she's not going to kill you" bellowed another.

Brandon ran his left hand through his hair, like he always did whenever he was on edge. Mary suddenly jumped up from her swing, grabbed Brandons hand and pulled him off as well, and led him to the bench, where they sat down sideways. She drew her face close to his and said gently, "Just tell me."

At that instance, Brandon wanted to cry. His heart ached at his own stubborness. Why can't I tell her? She deserves to know. She is the one person who will never judge me, she is the one person who can comfort me, and tell me whether my decision is the correct one. Telling her would be a huge weight off my shoulder and make me feel less lonely. Here is a person, a wonderful person who cares about me, wanting to know what's bothering me, and yet for some reason I don't want to divulge my secret? Is it even important if she can't fix my problem? Maybe she could even help me find a better way to do what I must do. Others do not understand the complexity of my problem, but she will, if I tell her. I want to tell her, and I am going to tell her.

"Are you having any problems, Brandon?" Mary asked, making him realize that her voice was the most beautiful sound in the world.

With amazingly deceptive conviction, Brandon replied "No."

"Are you sure? You can tell me anything. I'll help you. If there's a problem, let me know."

"Mary, everythings fine. If something was wrong, I'd tell you."

As he said it, Brandon felt his soul pounding against his body. It wanted to escape through his moving tounge and into Mary's ears and into her heart. The soul wanted Mary to know how it felt, the struggles it was enduring and the longing it held. But Brandons body would not let him, there was also something inside of him that would not let him tell people how he felt, even when it was clear to both Brandon and the other person that he was far from okay. Admiting to a problem, and asking for help was a sign of weakness. There must have been some gene in Brandon that simply locked his feelings and brilliant thoughts in his brain and refused to allow anyone access to them, because it wanted other people to percieve him as a man - undettered by petty problems and unafraid of challanges - when infact quite the opposite was true.

There was a long pause, during which Mary straightened herself and gazed listlessely at the water tower visible behind the tall trees. Brandon decided that he could not tell her about what he was planning on doing today. But he realized there as a new intense feeling inside him now, and he should share it with her.

"Mary, I," he hesitated. LOVE YOU. I love you, nobody cares about me as much as you do and I really appreciate you. I really like you. "I think I'm not going to school today, afterall."

Smiling her pretty smile again, Mary said "Great idea. You're shivering and it's not even that cold. Come to my house in the evening, we'll watch TV or something."

Brandon smiled at her for the first time, said goodbye, and left her sitting on the park bench as the first strokes of an orange dawn emerged in the sky.

yayayayayayayay!

It's been 4 days since I last smoked a cancer stick. I've decided to kick my 4 month old habit. I can't let this go on any longer. Smoking is disgusting and damaging. I don't want to die when I'm 60. I don't need cigarettes to take my stress level down. Cigarettes don't solve life's problems, they only make things worse. They are a waste of money and they are charring my still-mostly healthy insides.

I don't need to repeat all the horrible things cigarettes can do to me. I just need to stay strong, I must remind myself that smart people don't smoke.

What I will say is that I used to think I would never get addicted. I used to smoke here and there, very rarely if someone offered me one. But then I realized how good they taste. My brain became slowly dependent on them and it became almost impossible to live without cigs for more than a few hours. Nobody can know just how hard it is to quit until you have to go through it yourself. I had the "smokers fever" last night, which comes on the 3rd day after going cold turkey. I felt restless, and felt like my forehead was on fire and I had a dull headache. I felt like I would give up my left arm for a smoke. But I got throught it, which as I have read is the hardest part of quitting. The next hardest day will come on the 7th day after quitting. With science on my side, I know what to expect and I will defeat my brain's repeated pleas for a fresh fix of nicotine. 

"No brain no! It's all your fault! why did you get addicted to nicotine? You're not getting anymore!". For once, I'm letting my heart win. My heart wants me to quit, smoking is not me, it was never me. 

I am determined to do that which the vast majority of smokers are unable to do: successfuly quit on the first attempt. Along with this, I am going to kick my other bad habits of procrastination, and will take up exercise. I am proud of my effort so far.

I love you, my heart. Please don't stop beating for many more decades.