And so does damnation 🙂

They say, plant your own garden. Decorate your own soul. Isn’t that just too much on an already-burdened mind? There’s money to be earned. And that takes a lot of work. To top that, you have to “work” on planting a garden AND decorating, with it, your soul. Sounds boring. Sowwie (upturned nose 🙂

The door is a slit open. And I see a cool packet of round face wipes hanging from the bathroom mirror. The packet is a long, cylindrical shape meaning obviously round. It contains wipes, thin, sliced round into shape and made of some luxurious cotton. yeah! Below the wipes and the mirror, lie a crystal tray that carries all the other goodies. Some skin softener, clearing liquid. Those items are the important ones. The rest are there, just to fill the tray AND to free up the shelf, up above. So every day, thrice a day, you can wipe the face holding that cool pack in your left hand, a pack that has an awesome feel! Slowly. Gently. With the clearing liquid that claims to remove all the impurities. On goes the softener, next, which one can slather in huge amounts and feel great afterwards.

Needless to say, the routine keeps one happy, soft-hearted, and the skin supple and perfumed.

What more could one want? That’s not a garden. And it’s definitely not a soul that one is decorating. But feels far better and awesome still.

Oh yeah!

What the Heck is Bloglovin’, and Do I Need It?

The Daily Post

Have you noticed images like this in the sidebars of blogs you read? Now you know what they're about. Have you noticed images like this in the sidebars of blogs you read and felt like you were missing something? Now you know what they’re about.

While catching up with your favorite bloggers, you’ve probably seen an invitation to “follow me on bloglovin’!” in more than one sidebar.

What is bloglovin’? Don’t you already follow the blog in your Reader? Do you really have to sign up for another online account? Let’s take a look at why lots of bloggers are signing on.

What is it?

Bloglovin‘ is a tool for keeping up with blogs — a way to manage feeds. Lots of bloggers turned to it after the demise of Google Reader. When you create an account there, you can follow any blogger on any platform, whether or not they’re also signed up. Then, you can log in and see the latest posts from all the blogs you follow in…

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Recommended Reading: I Thought My Father Was God

The Daily Post

In April 1946, Theodore Lustig was discharged after serving three years in the army in World War II. Heading home on a train to New Jersey, he had grand plans for his new life. First, he bought a white shirt: a symbol of his return to a normal routine. The next step? Finding the girl of his dreams: his high school crush.

In his very short piece — “What If?” — he writes:

We got on the same bus — hers — and sat together reminiscing about the past and talking about the future. I told her of my plans and showed her the shirt I had bought — my first step toward making my dream come true. I didn’t tell her that she was supposed to be step two.

What If?” is just one story among the 180 true stories in I Thought My Father Was God: And Other True Tales From…

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Hum Kitne Nadaan Thay Yarun

Zindagi Teray gham nai hamein, rishtay nayay samjhayay,

Dhoop mein milay, jab bhi milay, chaon k thanday saayay…(Masoom, circa ’82)


It’s Relationship Mess Day One. Edge of Tomorrow, Part II. Rewind. Die. Rewind. Die. 

There is after all, no place like “Cool Capris” – no island of happiness where relationships are uncomplicated; where you can jump up to grab a bunch or just A star. No alternate realities “permitted” to one, to escape to. You were never my character-equal. I always knew that. But I thought it was only because you had sold out and I hadn’t.

Anyway, you mean you can’t have me over cuz it’s going to be all over MCK and I am sure, anyone can go spill it to FARA. I am told wives keep membership inside their spouse’s workplace. 

So you come over to my place (if you want) and perhaps see where I live or whatever. No “relationship” connotation attached to it. You did tell me, you will be in town…and I still live with my folks.

You say, I stop writing to you? Well, I can’t “just” stop writing to you. 

That comment? Well, it was really just a passing fancy and all others were meant to indicate I needed you to fall back on. Bus…work has already begun to change that. But doesn’t change anything today…

“DMG” Diaries

There is an educational institution on the Walton Road, Lahore, called Civil Services Academy. The building, the lawns, the pool, the auditorium, the courts blah, blah are not even half as interesting as the fact that the train you take from Karachi to Lahore passes right by the Academy exactly 2 and a 1/2 hours before it reaches the Lahore Train Station, thereby giving you the opportunity to jump off it since it stops for a good five minutes or so. If not for the luggage, the opportunity can be had without repercussions! However since the bags filled with goodies from home is pretty heavy, I am glad that I and my friends never actually attempted it :).

Also if you take the “pattri” straight ahead, that passes under an overhead bridge and THEN take a left and keep on going, you will, surprise, surprise, reach the famed M.M.Alam Road! Our route to coffee, meds and one odd lunch.

We explored something on the CSTs too. Atop the mountain that oversees the border to Afghanistan is the Army HQs of something or the other (Khyber Agency). Sitting there, and looking out the full-walled glass window, I was mesmerized beyond words. For below, was a small racketty steel door that let through immigrants (?), nationals on both the sides. A free pass for both the nationalities. How near the people from an entirely another world, however beyond our grasp, ARE to our world!!!

And then there was beautiful PTDC camp-out in the Kailash, where all around the building, gushed a naturally-running stream of sweet and clear water. Oh! The beauty of clean and pure, not to mention dreadfully cold (it was winters) air. Simple breathing became an exercise in beholding wonder and awe. And the amazing mountain goats that hung around just outside your door, that is, if you dared to step out. It was after all a jungle, in which they carved a small shelter – the camp-out!

The early summer and winter mornings, both, at the second Academy on the Mall were interesting. If you were in the first riding group, you were condemned to wake up at 4.30 a.m. and running on auto-pilot, eyes half-closed, put on your riding gears. It was not until you had reached the riding ground and the bus come to a screeching halt, were you fully awake. Winters made it all the more difficult but summers were not too bad.

The DMG experience is not the same for everyone but the time spent there is fun, for most and nostalgic or interesting for others. Cheers!