The train was already late. I was standing at Platform No. 4 of the Lahore Railway station since 3:30 pm. The clock just struck seven, the train was supposed to be there three hours ago. I had been planning this little visit of Hyderabad, Sindh, for over a year. It was one of the cities in Pakistan I had never been to. The last several months of my life had been like a horrible nightmare. I had spent months imagining this visit as a necessary escapade for my ailing wife. But I had never thought it would be in these circumstances. I stood there at the platform holding only the hand of my little boy, my wife was already gone from this world. Continue with reading
Over the past two and a half years, I have become insomniac. I can barely sleep. I have always been a nocturnal. I have spent almost my entire adult life being a night’s person and sleeping very late in the night. But I could still sleep. However, these past couple of years have seen me become sleepless. I can only sleep when my body is exhausted of staying restless, when my mind is unable to think or resist. Continue with reading
Two weeks have gone by and I still cannot believe you are gone. One and a half-year ago, there were many things I wanted you to know; things I wished I had done differently and things I wished I had told you. Just a year ago, things were so very different. Just a month ago, although the doctors had been telling me otherwise, I didn’t want to believe you were going. I know you respected my eccentric nature and still loved me, but I never desired to be so alone as you have left me to be now. I didn’t want you to respect my weaknesses so much. Continue with reading
I always wanted to tell you how I became what I am, and why I cannot do things that others expect me to. You have always told me that I am a waste of God-gifted talents, and you are the only one who says this to me so nicely, everyone else believes I am a waste of space. You were completely right in your assessment that I was not born this way. I can go on for hours about how and what made me the way I am but I think what really matters is that you know why I have been plagued by inconsistency. Continue with reading
She calls this room my “hujrah” (cloister / man-cave).
This is my operational room. This is where I monitored the entire 2013 elections, and in the words of my cousin Sidra, “as a one-man army”. This is where I read, I write, I cozy up in to my lonely self and spend time thinking, smoking, taking tea or coffee, use internet, go “social”, do multimedia of all types depending on my mood and just be with myself – most of the time just sit and do nothing. Continue with reading