I arrived in Quetta on October first, three days short of
the release of Joker: Folie a Duex. If I were excited for anything other than
my exam, it was seeing Joker 2 in theatres. I had planned to watch it with
Zakir my flatmate, and I even attempted to book a seat in advance as well. I
should mention that I was coming back off a dengue virus, and after talking to
my mom one day on the phone, she encouraged me to come home as soon as
possible. Right then, basically. She was happy that I had managed to pass my
paper, and was rather confused why I had chosen to stay there when coming home
was clearly a better option for me. A better option it seemed to me as well,
and on Sunday, I believe, I did some shopping – great purchases – and later
that night I left. Reaching home, the first thing I did was make my garrison
entry card in order to make sure I see Joker 2 in theatres on its release day.
It flopped, but I kind of liked it. Pheonix was amazing, so was Gaga; the score
brilliant like last time, so was the cinematography – 3.5 out of 5. And then,
my elder brother arrived from Saudi and everything began.
There was a lot of nervous tension about the building and
finishing of our house. To see it in its last stages, it seemed an enormous
task to clean it up and bring it into a livable condition. But it happened; one
way or another, it did happen. I with my elder brother started the shifting
process with the ground floor, and by the shifting of my elder sister’s household,
all four of us brothers were home. In between that, however, ‘ khoshi 2.0 ‘ happened.
It was a moderately cold afternoon, and the bypass highway treated us rather
badly that day: almost four lanes of cars were on the right-hand side and only
the fifth one was moving, dust was flying all around us, the traffic for a
period was on a stand still all together. Nevertheless, we reached there, had
to wait since the flight got a bit delayed due to air turbulence. My babhi and
her family were there as well, so two families were waiting. Akram arrived very
late, almost the last person to walk out of the ‘ arrivals ‘ door. The kids, my
little sister, me, and then all of our family hugged and welcomed him, and then
his newer family. I took his luggage and moved to a side, away from the crowd;
there I saw them standing together, Akram and my babhi and they looked
beautiful. Later that day I said to my friends that if such a coupledom is
possible, then I am ready to wait another 5 years if needs be. It was a really
happy day.
I guess this is going to be a rather long journal since what
I have written so far is but the trailer. And I don’t know why but I’ve fallen
into a narrative style of writing today, where I thought I would be more
erratic , rash, and provocative. While very fine, narrative prose uses up a lot
of words while only repeating what I know and remember. Let’s see if I can
change this up from the next paragraph.
The shifting phase continued till the arrival of KB and
Leon. I have written a piece about their arrival and the wedding as a whole,
however their being here felt to say the least – surreal. I mean this is not
done, not even rarely! But it was done here, with us, they did indeed come and
celebrated our joys as theirs – even more than us at times. A lovely, lovely
couple. If I had to pick one, I would pick Leon as my favorite; sorry KB but no
hard feelings, wink-wink. They arrived on Thursday morning and we had the first
of our two wedding ceremonies on Friday. Mehndi was the first one, towards late
evening. The night before the groom and his best men, mostly his brothers, us,
went to get a haircut and facial, where the next day before the event we would
come again and get our makeup and hair done. As well for the ladies, where they
would get their hair prepared and hands painted with henna the night before,
and get ready for the event the next day. The only difference is the hours, way
too many for the ladies. Nevertheless, KB looked amazing in our traditional
wedding dresses; she fit right in and didn’t look one bit under or
over-dressed. If it wasn’t for her short hair, she would be hard to pick out as
a foreign guest. Leon, on the other hand, looked a man, looked Akram’s father,
and almost a Hazara block. If KB looked natural in her clothes, Leon looked a
local person in shalwar kameez. Just absolutely amazing – it was really
wonderful!
The mehndi event was relatively shorter and less hectic
since not as many guests were invited as those on the wedding day after. There
was a photoshoot at the studio, then we all went to the hall, there was a lot
of dancing. Both the women and men sat in the same hall, although the number of
men were significantly less than women. Some time later, soft drinks with cakes
were distributed as refreshments, as the dancing continued. Finally, the
belongings of the bride and groom were shown on stage, being a tradition, and
then the couple danced as well. I’m gonna be honest, there were some awkward
moves alright, but with such sweetness and honesty were they performed that it
won hearts left and right. God bless Akram and Gul Babhi. KBnL were rather
tired by the end of mehndi, as they should have been after such a long,
peopled, and loud day. But Akram took them with him to Gul’s house to drop her
off and then they came home and continued toward Serena Hotel where they stayed
the nights. I am being miserly with my words and descriptions, allow me, and so
the mehndi ceremony was over – and I was seriously delighted! I remember asking
ChatGPT about how not to dance and still be not rude, but there was such
natural and tempting urge inside me that day to just dance and be happy and
make others happy and so I followed my instincts!
The next day I woke up at 3 am and couldn’t sleep
afterwards. I went on a long, lonely, and ecstatic walk. I greeted every
watchman and dog I saw on the road; I was truly happy. On my way back I stopped
at Salhi printing chowk, and recalled the very last time I had seen her. I sat
there, I smoked, I listened to ‘Bezan Baran’ by Ayham, and I recalled her. I
have so much to tell her if she ever decides to contact me again. ‘Faasle bohot
aur muntazir hum aapke hain’ as Talha Anjum puts it. I came home and no one was
up. I don’t remember how I might’ve spent the next 2 to 3 hours. After
breakfast, I left with the groom for pick KBnL for the day: it was the first
time I entered Serena Hotel in my life. It failed to impress me actually. I
guess being in Karachi and having seen other bigger and more pouring hotels
might’ve opened my eyes to much more than our Serena hotel. Anyways, just as we
arrived home, the line of cars along with the ‘Scottish pipe band’ as Leon put
it, was ready. After KB small hiccup as she fell by the gate, which greatly
ashamed us and probably herself as well, they changed and we left for the
bride’s house. On the way – we danced, a lot. And we danced on the road, in
front of everyone, blocking the cars and even including the bystanders and the
drivers. It was freeing and absolute fun. Although many catchy moments from the
rukhsati, but I’ll mention Nilofer, the little girl of our neighbors, whom I
had begun to adore and who actually danced with me in our street. She’s really
cute! We slaughtered the lamb, much to KBnL’s disappointed views about us being
animal lovers, and then after an hour or so – nothing. I asked someone what do
we do now, and the reply was we wait. Wait till the evening when we go to the
barber’s from where the main event begins!
Disclaimer: it’s been I don’t know how many days since I
last wrote anything in this journal. So much so that I don’t feel there’s any
connection between these paragraphs, which until now has been written in three
attempts – this one is the fourth.
The barber on the wedding’s eve was much livelier, enough or
rather necessary for me particularly. As I mentioned that I had gotten up at 3
in the morning and hadn’t slept since. Dancing during the ‘ rukhsati ‘ has
added more to my fatigue and by the evening I was a mess. I had a severe
headache, my eyes were on the brim of closing, and I had a terribly foul mood.
Thank God that the event was always bigger than my mood, and eventually helped
me sort myself out, although many cigs and few redbulls after. Akram’s Aussie
friends were also at the barber that night and it was great fun, chatter and
laughter all around. From there we went to the studio, some clicks, I brought
something for babhi to eat, and we were off to the marriage hall. I stayed
behind and reached the hall with my own friends. The dinner has already started
and was almost close to finish. My friends sat to eat and I greeted every
familiar guest. Mind you, I was very confident and ripe with my greetings – I
love myself for that.
After the eating and all were done, the dancing began of
course. Our friends danced, Leon danced, the kids danced, but the relatives got
very little time. Akram got changed and we took him to the women’s hall; no ‘
dhol ‘ which made the distance from hall to hall rather awkward but once we
were midway through the women’s hall we put on some music and started dancing –
that is, in front of the women. A lot of dancing happened there, Juma and Ali
had joined me thankfully, and we put on a great show. The couple’s dance was
the last and also the most cheered and adorable; Akram’s cheeky moves were
pleasing and reviving for the guests and us. The cake cutting ceremony began
and finally some quieter music, I think it was Sheeran’s ‘ Perfect ‘ that
played during. And then pictures of course: individual, family, semi-family,
all and a few – lots of pictures. By the end of it all – which I say with both
a sigh and pride – we were all left satisfied and depleted. The occasion
demanded glamour from us and we held back not one bit!
Although there are quite a few functions before and after
the wedding, it does come and go. So, one must not be bogged down by the scale
of a wedding event, just get lost into it and burst. And from that word, let me
change gears…
Now, all that I’ve written so far – is insignificant, if I
say – I wouldn’t be entirely wrong. Because now I am going to write about my
mania and how this time, I am caught up in the tornado of the frenzy of life
itself than that of intellect, like last year. How do you enter into your mania
episode? To which I can also ask: how do you become depressed? To both these
questions, I don’t have a convincing answer. If I say that it all starts and
ends on the inside without there being any external reasons, I might be lying.
Last year, my depression did have some external cues: I wasn’t prepared for my
career ahead. Similarly, my mania this year was stimulated by Akram’s upcoming
wedding. But as Naz Khialvi writes towards the end of Gorakdhanda ‘ Raat kiya,
sheh e savera kiya hai? Ye ujala, ye andheera kiya hai? ‘ (What is night and
why is dawn? What is this duality of dark and light?) And so, what is this
bipolar disorder now that I have attained what I actively term as ‘ my peak of
civilization ‘. Let me be direct here: I have been writing my words on you for
many years, Microsoft Word Document file, and today I shall announce to you
that I reached enlightenment, that I have civilized, that I am whole now –
complete, that I can believe and believe blindly, that I have surrendered to
fate and it’s twisting wisdom, that I can accept hell and enjoy heaven, that I
can still love, still hope, that I wake up early and meet God on the streets,
that I cry and laugh more easily now, that I quietened my idea of self, that I
am no longer self-conscious, that I am a good son, a good brother, a good student,
a good friend, that I am mature now, that I can read, understand, and remember
poetry (not memorize, but remember – two very different things), that I can
share anecdotes with impact, that I can make sense of things, that I am patient
(although quick tempered due to my mania), that I can slow down and feel grace,
that I can be fast and efficient and ‘chamrustu’, that I can and do get things
done, that I am belligerent and grand and amazing and proud and humble and kind
and nice and loving and curt and pointing and blunt and slant and ruthless and
Machiavellian and poetic and intimidating and soft and cold and warm and
thoughtful and full of feelings, and that I can enjoy the weather, the streets,
the people in general, the stray dogs, the cats at home, that can drink water
and exclaim that this is the best drink, that I feel hungry and eat plentifully
and realized that it is a blessing from Him, allowing me to feast on food and
on love alike – I am indeed one with HIM, and one with HIM I shall ever remain
from now on. This, my friends, my Microsoft Word document, is not a mere cycle
of depression and mania, a cycle of duality – this is enlightenment, I have
transcended!
And oh, did I mention that I am happy these days? My days
are full of bursting happiness, mind you all.
2024 has been a strange year to say the least. After the
passing of Amaan’s father, things were rather dull the first half. But as I
appeared and scored 84 in my first ACCA paper in earliest June, things picked
pace and started snowballing. I wonder how 2025 shall endure. I know many
things have been but a setting for next year: ACCA, Ifto’s work visa arrival,
possibly our engagements too, reaching 300 books, and hopefully, with a tinge
of fear, a breaking of silence from her; I know she’s married and all, but such
firm silence? I need to hear your voice, to have you ask me how I am and to
have you answer my exact same question. I have attained closure, since I have
attained a connection to Him, but I still and willingly will write about you
whenever you come up in my journey of words. But yes, a lot has to ensue in
2025 and I am but ready for it all. It seems like this journal/blog is about to
end and I am but a bit disappointed to be honest. This is definitely not as
exciting as ‘ Intellectual Frenzy ‘ was. Most of it is just me writing what I
already knew, and only little of it what I really wanted to write. But I guess
when you stretch a piece for over weeks, this is what you get. But hey, maybe
once my memory degrades, I shall then enjoy revisiting this piece.
As for now, it’s quarter to six in the morning. It’s my
daily routine, to wake up well before the morning prayers and somehow make it
to six or six thirty so that one’s conscience or consciousness allows one to go
for a walk. Maybe I’ll visit Amaan’s shop again today since he might be back,
otherwise I come home and have breakfast and the day begins, just as robust as
any other in the past two and half months. Hotay hotay, raat k 9 baj jaatey
hain, and I feel the calling of the sleep to close yet another vital day.
Almost three thousand words and what have I said? That’ll be
for you to judge, whoever reads this. Oh my God, I had to write about Aiman,
and Fatima, and Miss Sohaila, and Ali Abbas, and Ustah Anwar, and Juma – but
maybe in the coming blog? For now, I think it’s best close this off. Until next
time, cuz.
December 16, 2024