What started as an instantaneously enthusiast thought, one that dies soon after being replaced by another thought, to go for a morning jogging, turned out to be an initiation for a day so complete. The jogging part, although determinedly agreed upon, was put off since the gym caused such tiresome body pain that waking up as early as 6 am didn't seem like a feasible thing anymore. But what did seem feasible, and more determinedly agreed upon plan, was hiking. So the next morning, after the brunch on a Sunday morning, we set off for the Trial 3 of Margalla Hills. After we got our meals for lunch, Kabuli from Shinwari's F8 branch, which we were to have later in the day, up in the hills, we started climbing our way up at around 12.30 pm. But none of us knew anything, except for the goal of climbing it all the way to Monal, a good 9 km uphill walk, about how the day was going to unfold.
It was our first time hiking experience through the Trial 3, which we preferred after being bored by visiting Trial 5 every time. So it was new, and pleasant at the same time. Minor, or maybe major, exception were our empty water bottle and the unusually warmer weather. Anyways, it didn't slow us down or anything, we were dead serious on climbing all the way up. On the first stop, we found some stalls where, as expected, a small water bottle was priced at 50/- while an orange for 20/-, that's just absurd. Moving on, we found a spot and posed for some pictures, but a few step ahead, a few means like 500 steps maybe, a spot found us: it was like, it was getting more broader, greener, higher, and more beautiful as we moved on. None of us skipped chances of clicking some stunning-resulting photos, and my phone's camera made that certain (was my 2nd most favorite feature of my Note 5). It refreshed us just enough to reach the spot where we sat down for lunch because we were starving by this time. What contributed to our hunger were the sudden sprints we took climbing up fast and running, though it took our breathes marginally as well. Hiking the plain pathways weren't as big of a struggle as was climbing up straight. The sunny, straight up rising, rocky, way was hard to climb on that warm Sunday. On the contrary, the shadowed, greener, paved and pleasant pathways provided for a much better hiking experience; you walked and felt the nature all around you, the music sounded better, the chats were more relaxed. So after the lunch, which was mediocre, didn't like the rice as much as last time, we were, of course, bulkier than before but the way up to the summit was nearer now. Some more bulkier, but also energized steps, and there we were, at the top. The scenery in front of us was so eye-fixing that I don't remember looking back. We posed again, and for the last time, for some more pictures before our phone ran out of batteries. But not before I posed a right hand, fist up pose, as such in Stronger movie, which also came as the idea for this blog's title. (Although Boston Strong sounds way better than FebFour Strong. But it was what I came up with after lots of thinking). And so came the part first of our FebFour Strong to an end.
On the back side of the hills, as we climbed down, we found ourselves at the La Montana Restaurant. Though the food wasn't serviceable for us, it's expensively expensive, the toilets were: we all needed to lighten off. After refreshing, we visited the twin, but popular sister of La Montana, the Monal. Nothing special, unless you eat there. Then was our the turn for finding a ride to the view point spot, Daman-e-Koh. 400/- for a ride of 5 km, down the slope, was what the taxis were asking for. So we would walk the distance, we decided, or even better, run the distance! The idea seemed silly to me as first for multiple reasons: we were exhausted from hiking for 4 hours, and nobody ran on these roads, people came here on cars, expensive looking ones. But if we had to make it to D.e.K before the dusk fell, we might as well ran, or at least jog. So we kicked off. We started running. It was Esmat first, followed by Mehdi, me at third from some distance, and Ali at fourth and nowhere to be seen. So about 5 minutes into our marathon run, I heard a similar voice calling me, of course by my face-centered, shamelessly wide-spoken, nickname, 'china' (should I capitalize the C, maybe not) and just when I heard it and was about to look back, I saw Ali, in his red upper, on the back seat of a bike, ridden by a fat man with a helmet on, pass by as fast breeze. Okay, he cheated, or he beat us all at once, however you wanna see it. But we weren't getting any lifts, it was too late for that, both the distance vice because we had covered most of it, and our-marathon-feeling-taking-over-us vice. I kept a steady, moderately slow pace throughout which helped me run almost all the distance. But what kept me running more were the thumbs ups signs of encouragement by the drivers passing by, or chuckles which the negative, less literate, self-doubtful people, there are always plenty of them, passed that motivated us in different way where you do it just we shut them off. Surprisingly, or unsurprisingly, what motivated me the most, though it came before the last few steps, probably the toughest ones, was the sarcastic, or appreciative, laugh of a girl which I couldn't see clearly enough, or for a longer period to know if she was pretty or not, which helped assume she was pretty anyways, who rode on a van passing by. No, she was pretty, yeah. Sweet she, and sweeter the destination, our marathon run paid off in a big way: we were their before dark, we felt triumphant, and I had the chance to pose the Strong, fist-up gesture again. Off to tea sipping now.
After sipping tea and licking ice-cream cones, we once again looked for a ride down to Trial 3 where our bikes were parked waiting for us to come back. It was dark after all. Luckily, we did find a ride this time, which was an experience on its own, and that meant we didn't have to run, now through darker roads, another 4 km. The driver was jolly good, so were his music. But what made the experience of the ride was the ride before us: a van full of family members, I guess, with the three ladies sitting, back towards us, and the three boys sitting face towards us. It was rush at that time of the evening, and the cars were moving slowly, if they weren't moving at all, which allowed for us, me the driver and the van members in front of us, to start a little something of our own. So the guy the middle of the van ahead, facing us, started dancing to a song which I couldn't hear obviously, but which I assumingly matched to the one we were listening, equally rocking. Doing his moves, he saw me checking him out, and smiling because his moves were so shamelessly innocent, and quickly let the ladies know about a Chinese guy (there's a reason why everyone call me china, because I do look like one, though I've never felt it so myself) is watching us, or me. Then, the heads started turning towards us, and the driver felt jolly good about it; he seemed to enjoy the attention on a boring, rush ride. I remember him saying, "Wo unhey pasaney k chakar mein hain, aur wo hamare taraf dekh rahi hain". (He's trying get all the attention of the ladies, but it's we who are really getting it). Did I think so? Yeah, maybe. It was fun for me too. My smiles, and a thumbs up too, I guess, proved to be a motivation for him to pull even shakier, more expressive moves that he could pull of while sitting, sandwiched, between other members, and even got the guy sitting to his right to join him. It was on. They were putting on a show now, and the way I knew it was for me, and not the camera the ladies were filming them from, was his gesture with both index fingers pointing at me and a smile so cringy, yet sweet, that I felt like the only audience. Quite sadly, the roads opened up and we were down the hills, and we had to part, though the ladies got a good look at me before we moved past their van. It a was a fun, little experience at the end of an enthusiastically adventurous day.
But was that the pleasant ending I slept with? Probably not. More crazier stuff, also more haunting ones were coming our way. The day was not over! To end the day on a high node (literally) we planned to have a flavorable, pleasant, sheesha party at our room. The idea wasn't as crazy as the execution, just like the hiking plans. It came, we charged the device, and the music was on baby! We danced our asses off (probably the point were the haunting part happened too) and aired some smokes. It was crazy, it was fun, it was sexy, it's all in my head now... I cannot deny it, although the fun was soon over after I picked my phone up, now under my blanket, and saw a violet spot at the top, left side of my screen. Being nit picky and urgently resourceful, I rounded the corners of my phone screen and pretended it wasn't there. Later, while I was sitting on a toilet, the spots back fired twice as strongly. It had spread more and leaving even more shallower spots all over the screen. I read about and I knew that I had damaged the screen by stepping on it while I was dancing. That night, I didn't recall the day, but spent it dreaming and hoping that I didn't turn out as ugly it was supposed to be. Next morning, the alarm went off, and it was! Uglier even, or the ugliest. Yep, looking at it broke my heart. The repair, later when I visited the repair shops, were to cost more than its selling price, a whooping 16 k. Through all these, I stayed calm, indifferent, which is something I was so happy about. I ate some french fries and chilled out! Maybe I was happy to to have found a solid reason to put off my phone for good this time, and replace the time I spent on it, on other, more productive things. Two days later, today, I am okay without it. I do miss it subconsciously now and it then when I find myself stranded with my thoughts and my hands empty, but it'll wear off. It always does. And maybe I will be getting a new phone, which to me seems a distant possibility, and not an exciting thing as of yet.
So did it close off equally amazing, my FebFour? Maybe yes. Though not on the preferable conditions, but something fruitful after all. I'll read more, watch more, I'd have more time to do other stuffs. But what made the special for me was the breakage of the chains, the restraints I had with my roommates. We synced, talked, had fun together, we got a step closer; hopefully more such steps we'd take in future and the months would bore more memorable times and experiences.
"We are all just walking each other home."
It's Ejaz Hussain signing off at 1:47 am.
PS: 2:14 am after editing.
It was our first time hiking experience through the Trial 3, which we preferred after being bored by visiting Trial 5 every time. So it was new, and pleasant at the same time. Minor, or maybe major, exception were our empty water bottle and the unusually warmer weather. Anyways, it didn't slow us down or anything, we were dead serious on climbing all the way up. On the first stop, we found some stalls where, as expected, a small water bottle was priced at 50/- while an orange for 20/-, that's just absurd. Moving on, we found a spot and posed for some pictures, but a few step ahead, a few means like 500 steps maybe, a spot found us: it was like, it was getting more broader, greener, higher, and more beautiful as we moved on. None of us skipped chances of clicking some stunning-resulting photos, and my phone's camera made that certain (was my 2nd most favorite feature of my Note 5). It refreshed us just enough to reach the spot where we sat down for lunch because we were starving by this time. What contributed to our hunger were the sudden sprints we took climbing up fast and running, though it took our breathes marginally as well. Hiking the plain pathways weren't as big of a struggle as was climbing up straight. The sunny, straight up rising, rocky, way was hard to climb on that warm Sunday. On the contrary, the shadowed, greener, paved and pleasant pathways provided for a much better hiking experience; you walked and felt the nature all around you, the music sounded better, the chats were more relaxed. So after the lunch, which was mediocre, didn't like the rice as much as last time, we were, of course, bulkier than before but the way up to the summit was nearer now. Some more bulkier, but also energized steps, and there we were, at the top. The scenery in front of us was so eye-fixing that I don't remember looking back. We posed again, and for the last time, for some more pictures before our phone ran out of batteries. But not before I posed a right hand, fist up pose, as such in Stronger movie, which also came as the idea for this blog's title. (Although Boston Strong sounds way better than FebFour Strong. But it was what I came up with after lots of thinking). And so came the part first of our FebFour Strong to an end.
On the back side of the hills, as we climbed down, we found ourselves at the La Montana Restaurant. Though the food wasn't serviceable for us, it's expensively expensive, the toilets were: we all needed to lighten off. After refreshing, we visited the twin, but popular sister of La Montana, the Monal. Nothing special, unless you eat there. Then was our the turn for finding a ride to the view point spot, Daman-e-Koh. 400/- for a ride of 5 km, down the slope, was what the taxis were asking for. So we would walk the distance, we decided, or even better, run the distance! The idea seemed silly to me as first for multiple reasons: we were exhausted from hiking for 4 hours, and nobody ran on these roads, people came here on cars, expensive looking ones. But if we had to make it to D.e.K before the dusk fell, we might as well ran, or at least jog. So we kicked off. We started running. It was Esmat first, followed by Mehdi, me at third from some distance, and Ali at fourth and nowhere to be seen. So about 5 minutes into our marathon run, I heard a similar voice calling me, of course by my face-centered, shamelessly wide-spoken, nickname, 'china' (should I capitalize the C, maybe not) and just when I heard it and was about to look back, I saw Ali, in his red upper, on the back seat of a bike, ridden by a fat man with a helmet on, pass by as fast breeze. Okay, he cheated, or he beat us all at once, however you wanna see it. But we weren't getting any lifts, it was too late for that, both the distance vice because we had covered most of it, and our-marathon-feeling-taking-over-us vice. I kept a steady, moderately slow pace throughout which helped me run almost all the distance. But what kept me running more were the thumbs ups signs of encouragement by the drivers passing by, or chuckles which the negative, less literate, self-doubtful people, there are always plenty of them, passed that motivated us in different way where you do it just we shut them off. Surprisingly, or unsurprisingly, what motivated me the most, though it came before the last few steps, probably the toughest ones, was the sarcastic, or appreciative, laugh of a girl which I couldn't see clearly enough, or for a longer period to know if she was pretty or not, which helped assume she was pretty anyways, who rode on a van passing by. No, she was pretty, yeah. Sweet she, and sweeter the destination, our marathon run paid off in a big way: we were their before dark, we felt triumphant, and I had the chance to pose the Strong, fist-up gesture again. Off to tea sipping now.
After sipping tea and licking ice-cream cones, we once again looked for a ride down to Trial 3 where our bikes were parked waiting for us to come back. It was dark after all. Luckily, we did find a ride this time, which was an experience on its own, and that meant we didn't have to run, now through darker roads, another 4 km. The driver was jolly good, so were his music. But what made the experience of the ride was the ride before us: a van full of family members, I guess, with the three ladies sitting, back towards us, and the three boys sitting face towards us. It was rush at that time of the evening, and the cars were moving slowly, if they weren't moving at all, which allowed for us, me the driver and the van members in front of us, to start a little something of our own. So the guy the middle of the van ahead, facing us, started dancing to a song which I couldn't hear obviously, but which I assumingly matched to the one we were listening, equally rocking. Doing his moves, he saw me checking him out, and smiling because his moves were so shamelessly innocent, and quickly let the ladies know about a Chinese guy (there's a reason why everyone call me china, because I do look like one, though I've never felt it so myself) is watching us, or me. Then, the heads started turning towards us, and the driver felt jolly good about it; he seemed to enjoy the attention on a boring, rush ride. I remember him saying, "Wo unhey pasaney k chakar mein hain, aur wo hamare taraf dekh rahi hain". (He's trying get all the attention of the ladies, but it's we who are really getting it). Did I think so? Yeah, maybe. It was fun for me too. My smiles, and a thumbs up too, I guess, proved to be a motivation for him to pull even shakier, more expressive moves that he could pull of while sitting, sandwiched, between other members, and even got the guy sitting to his right to join him. It was on. They were putting on a show now, and the way I knew it was for me, and not the camera the ladies were filming them from, was his gesture with both index fingers pointing at me and a smile so cringy, yet sweet, that I felt like the only audience. Quite sadly, the roads opened up and we were down the hills, and we had to part, though the ladies got a good look at me before we moved past their van. It a was a fun, little experience at the end of an enthusiastically adventurous day.
But was that the pleasant ending I slept with? Probably not. More crazier stuff, also more haunting ones were coming our way. The day was not over! To end the day on a high node (literally) we planned to have a flavorable, pleasant, sheesha party at our room. The idea wasn't as crazy as the execution, just like the hiking plans. It came, we charged the device, and the music was on baby! We danced our asses off (probably the point were the haunting part happened too) and aired some smokes. It was crazy, it was fun, it was sexy, it's all in my head now... I cannot deny it, although the fun was soon over after I picked my phone up, now under my blanket, and saw a violet spot at the top, left side of my screen. Being nit picky and urgently resourceful, I rounded the corners of my phone screen and pretended it wasn't there. Later, while I was sitting on a toilet, the spots back fired twice as strongly. It had spread more and leaving even more shallower spots all over the screen. I read about and I knew that I had damaged the screen by stepping on it while I was dancing. That night, I didn't recall the day, but spent it dreaming and hoping that I didn't turn out as ugly it was supposed to be. Next morning, the alarm went off, and it was! Uglier even, or the ugliest. Yep, looking at it broke my heart. The repair, later when I visited the repair shops, were to cost more than its selling price, a whooping 16 k. Through all these, I stayed calm, indifferent, which is something I was so happy about. I ate some french fries and chilled out! Maybe I was happy to to have found a solid reason to put off my phone for good this time, and replace the time I spent on it, on other, more productive things. Two days later, today, I am okay without it. I do miss it subconsciously now and it then when I find myself stranded with my thoughts and my hands empty, but it'll wear off. It always does. And maybe I will be getting a new phone, which to me seems a distant possibility, and not an exciting thing as of yet.
So did it close off equally amazing, my FebFour? Maybe yes. Though not on the preferable conditions, but something fruitful after all. I'll read more, watch more, I'd have more time to do other stuffs. But what made the special for me was the breakage of the chains, the restraints I had with my roommates. We synced, talked, had fun together, we got a step closer; hopefully more such steps we'd take in future and the months would bore more memorable times and experiences.
"We are all just walking each other home."
It's Ejaz Hussain signing off at 1:47 am.
PS: 2:14 am after editing.