famished for meaning

i love how a lot of my virtual friends know me so well. ali nailed it on my old blog with a comment about how my relationship prevents me from thinking out loud online, the way i used to. and that is practically all i spoke about: love, relationships, marriage along with some bitching about paki men (which i SO can’t do anymore!), religion and bushy boy.

i’ve lost my anger and steam.

i need more than words.

i am feeling increasingly sick of the lack of action - baron is out there, marching for what he believes in while i am still trying to figure out what i believe in.

i asked the boy today whether he knew what he wanted and he said yes.

i envied him so much because what i want changes everyday. i have a new plan almost every day and a new desire almost every day. i decide to get married one day, decide that i could NEVER do that the next day, make plans to move out and then realize i love mommy and daddy too much. i think about going off to afghanistan (i have become obsessed with the place) to fight for womens rights there, then figure i must take my trip to thailand first or buy my car.

and nothing changes.

i never act on any of it.

from the outside, i look like such a stable person, with jobs and men that i stick to for years. internally, i fight everything everyday; i hate stability as much as i love it. i fear change more than anything yet i crave it.

the boy often hates the way i am because of my new plans every day which i never follow through with. i told him that it sucks to be me because its even worse - i am the one doing all this thinking, while not following through with it.

indecisiveness is such a bitch.

i know i am childish in my desire to be ‘different’ - i am such a cliche - i don’t want to end up like everyone else but i will; i already have.

my friend just gave birth to a baby and sent me pictures. i was horrified looking at it because it represented so much responsibility and change of lifestyle. i’d die if that THING was mine and i had to wake up in the middle of the night to take care of it and change its diapers and allow it to suck my tits.

eww.

fucking hell, i really thought i’d be more grown up by 27. i have acquired most of the symbols - job, gym membership, travel plans, about to buy my first car, etc but i really don’t know if i want it. i know its all necessary though.

you know, this sort of a whiny, incoherent post belongs on the old blog, which by the way (if i don’t change my mind AGAIN), will be going live soon. i no longer give a shit if the whole world knows who i am - i can’t be one of the anonymous fuckers on the internet, writing strong opinions and words that they are too afraid to stand by.

so yeah, this is my update - same ol’ crap.

also, in other random news, i encourage everyone (except ali) to buy this poster.

and in even more random news, michael jackson hired out a water park in dubai (he invited lots of parents and children to join in the fun) and roamed around in a white lycra body suit.

scary shit.

i read a fantastic book (the kite runner) over the weekend…i actually had to skip work on saturday, because i didn’t sleep till seven in the morning - it was one of those books that i couldn’t put down.

immediately after, i looked up reviews of it online. i was slightly depressed to read the criticism, a lot of which was admittedly well-deserved: “contrived”, “implausible plot turns”, “cliched”, “whiny, pathetic hero”, etc. and of course, the timing - shortly on the heels of the war on afghanistan, a touching story about an afghani boy is told. charming.

i still loved it though.

there are few things comparable to being absorbed completely in someone else’s world, via visuals or words. selfishly, it helps us forget or mimizes our problems, for the problems worthy of being communicated through film and books are often far bigger than a bad hair day or a job one hates.

the book revolved around two childhood friends and one’s desperation to earn his father’s love and approval. he was willing to go to any length for it, and he did. and he got what he wanted but it didn’t feel as good as it should have, because of the cost he paid for it.

i think almost everyone can relate to wanting to make the parents feel proud, happy and make them love us.

i think i am still doing it.

i realized, with quite a shock last night, that almost all of my desire to settle down had to do with the look i imagined on my parents faces, on hearing the news. while quite unlike most paki parents, they haven’t paired me off with someone yet, nor tried to arrange any marriage, i know that it is right there…they want to see their kids ’settled’ before the end of their lives. and while i don’t really want to marry, nor believe that it could last forever (for me), sometimes, i know that i would do it, simply to please them.

so much in my life revolves around pleasing them…

i am still living with them, primarily because of that hurt look i’ll get if i tell them i am moving out.

i have started to chase huge commissions and paychecks, only to ensure that my parents never have to worry about money, as they grow older. i want to see them taking vacations, buying their dream cars and house, playing golf and enjoying their years, not having to worry about a thing.

almost all my focus, as i grow older, is on making them happy. and it is not in a self-sacrifical, noble, holier than thou way. it’s just in a laid back, ‘i am doing this because i want to, because they deserve it’ kinda way.

i want to be the best daughter…i have their love and affection and the thought of losing it terrifies me.

i suppose that’s why i could relate to the little boy in the book, who did quite a horrible thing, just because his fathers love was more important to him, than anything else in the world.

i question myself often though…am i just hiding behind my parents and their goals? i even wonder whether i will end up hating them for the amount of influence they unknowingly exert on each decision of mine.

may be in a couple of decades, i will regret all that i did, but for now, it just feels right.

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also, on another note, i haven’t been posting much because i am suffering from the “shit, i am growing a year older” blues. the big day is only three days away and i’m depressed…i was supposed to be in amsterdam or anywhere else. however, obviously, due to my laziness and that of those who were supposed to accompany me, it never panned out. and i am stuck with the same superficial crew that i don’t really want to be with, but HAVE to invite. i wish my blog/virtual friends, who feel more real than the real life friends i have, were here…

if i write in the next few days, it is ONLY going to be to whine excessively, like a li’l bitch.

consider yourself warned.

i went to a friend’s performance the other day (he sings incredibly well - some of you might remember him as the english teacher/singer that i was ’seeing’ last year). he introduced me to jeff buckley last year with his rendition of ‘we all fall in love sometimes’ (great song). and this time, he sang ‘lilac wine’ which is haunting.

When I think more than I want to think
Do things I never should do
I drink much more that I ought to drink
Because it brings me back you

haven’t we all been there?

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so once again, it’s thrusday night. i have a number of options, none very appealing. i have invites to the top parties in town and messages from the clubs keep flooding my mobile inbox, all claiming to be “the venue” with the best DJ, the best drinks and the usual marketing bs.

what does one do when they get tired of quiet nights in and repulsed by mad parties? there isn’t an in-between, at least not in my city.

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i find my job extremely frustrating.

i think it is because i have to deal with people. i suck at dealing with people, because most of them are stupid.

or perhaps i am too arrogant.

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this is a pretty pointless post, isn’t it? but then, aren’t they all? i am shamed by the story telling abilities of the crew on my sidebar. on top of that, i miss my old home (blog) - it allowed me to be far more whiny than i can here…i don’t know why.

you know how we all crave routine/order in chaos? the reverse holds true, doesn’t it? sometimes, one just wants something, anything to break the monotony of knowing exactly how tomorrow will begin and end. there are times when our cushy lifestyle is severly lacking in ‘life’…when eating, sleeping, fucking, working, writing, whining, all the bloody ‘ings’ aren’t enough.

i am convinced that there has to be more.

do you think it is normal to sometimes think of shooting your brains out, just to add some excitement to the dullness of life?

i know that has to be the most morbid thing i’ve ever said, but the thought often crosses my mind. i am too much of a narcissist/superficial (and ill equipped) bitch to ever seriously consider it since you know, i’d end up looking like one ugly corpse then. plus, i’m relatively content. and that’s all i ever wanted.

they were right though, sometimes it is a bitch to get what you wanted.

It’s not what you thought
when you first began it
You got what you want
now you can hardly stand it, though
well, now you know

It’s not going to stop
It’s not going to stop.

(aimee mann, wise up)

i am not sure what sort of a hole in my soul i’m trying to fill. it’s not even one that i consciously feel. just a sort of emptiness, which in all honesty, i have gotten used to. no matter what happens in my life, i often go through phases of just feeling slightly dead, slightly disgusted by everything, and to make things worse, i then do things i would otherwise bitch about or despise (like shopping too much or being a brand whore or partying or drinking). all that is supposed to make the dullness, boredom and emptiness go away but it doesn’t.

i know someone who shags too much to fill her hole (the one in her SOUL, you gutter minded cows!). i sat with her the other day and tried explaining to her that her promiscuity was the reason why she didn’t have any real friends (because men can’t look at her as anything but an easy lay and women feel threatened by her willingness to put out within two hours and her massive boobs!). i told her she wouldn’t find true love this way. i told her that it wont make her problems go away. i told her that she needs to deal with her emptiness, her issues. i told her a lot of crap and then i went out and shopped and filled the hole in MY soul.

i wonder how we can be so judgmental, yet feel so pious.

i sometimes make myself sick.

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i went down to one of my favorite clubs on last week - its been renovated and renamed - i like it because although the people behind it are the most pretentious, snobbish lot in this city, the club is extremely basic. i LOVE the way it looks (i’ll take a few pictures the next time i go - this time, i had had one too many vodka redbulls to be much good with a camera!).

anyway, i had the BEST time - i sat around and just watched the queens - dressed in super tight jeans, tucked into their mid calf length white boots with big white or gold studded belts, dancing to ‘billie jean’. i watched them get mad because my male friends were talking to me (and not to them), i watched them shake that booty to ‘don’t stop till you get enough’ and grind, much to the chagrin of some of the homophobic men out there. i laughed as an ex said that he would have shagged one of the queens (who was HOT!) if only he had boobs and i replied that that had never stopped him before!

the only thing was that it all seemed slightly depressing, slightly desperate. i felt bad that the straight lot (including me) just sat around and watched with fascination and bemusement as men grinded and got it on. i can not imagine what a pain in the ass it must be to be judged solely on your sexual preferences and to be alienated because of them.

i get sickened by arguments against homosexuality, i get pissed off when it is referred to as an aberration or an illness. i feel sorry for the gays going mad in clubs because it appears that they’ve been let out of a cage…all week they are stuck in heterosexual environments, possibly forced to ogle at women because they don’t want to let on who they really are, given the homophobia, and finally, on a drunken thursday night, they can be themselves. and even then, people stare (and admittedly, i was one of them on this occasion).

they do their nails, their eyebrows, cleanse, tone and moisturize…they wear mascara and liner and lip gloss…and we figure that this can’t be right, no matter how much we advocate freedom of choice.

the next day, we were over at a friend’s place, talking about our night out, and most of the guys made horrified sounds (OH NO!!! REALLY? THANK GOD I DIDN’T GO!).

why are straight men so scared of gays? i understand you don’t fancy taking it up the arse and no one is really asking you to, you know. but if that’s how someone likes it, what the fuck is YOUR problem (i know there is a lot more to homosexuality than just the sex, but that bit is usually what makes most straight men extremely uncomfortable)?

if i could, if i had the power, i would eradicate hypocrisy and our tendency to judge. it is beginning to piss me off more than anything on earth.

but i wont (in all likelihood) ever have a such a power…besides, if i were to have it, i would need to first start with the most difficult place: myself.

may be i’ll just continue to shop instead.

p.s: since we are, or at least i am, talking of shopping - i have to share that i am terribly excited about getting the horny maids outfit (fishnet stockings, garters, super sexy bra, etc) from agent provocateur. i haven’t felt so excited about a purchase since i got the godfather dvd set! the boyfriend will become a slave for life after this outfit is unleashed on him (mwaahahahaha)!!

weird news:

for those who got the e-mail announcing this blog, remember i said that i wanted to name my daughter ‘rocky’ and my son ‘baby’? and you guys thought i was either retarded or exceptionally cruel.

well, it turns out that there are stranger parents out there. i got a mail from a guy today whose last name is actually BABY. in fact, he has the WEIRDEST name:

Br@ms Berr@d@ B@by (@ was used instead of an ‘a’ because i don’t want him to land here after googling himself)

and a few months back, i got an e-mail from a guy called: ‘inn0cent ud0chukwu’

now THAT is exceptionally cruel.

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weekend wrap-up / useless news:

i’m hooked on to ‘desperate housewives’. i feel terrible about it because i am usually extremely anti-sitcoms. i watched 14 episodes over the last four days.

i pampered myself by going for a manicure & pedicure (note to ali: i went for RED…happy?).

i have realized that of late, i feel unmoved by films. this is very unusual. i don’t know whether it’s just that the films are bad or i’m a cold, unfeeling beyatch. the only one that was slightly decent was ‘happenstance’. it reminded me of this poem (”love at first sight, by Wislawa Szymborska).

in other news, i have decided that i NEED to pick up some activity. i feel tired and ache all over every morning, when i wake up…it has to be the lack of exercise. i’m the laziest person i know: i pay by the hour to park my car right outside the entrance of my building, when it’s free to park it 3 minutes away (i just can’t be arsed to walk that much). my ex-gym called me up for the 10th time to ask whether i’d like to renew my membership. when i explained that i had visited the gym a whopping 5 times in 18 months, the girl realized that i was a lost cause.

you know what? lack of fat is a bit of a curse. at least if i was chubbier, my narcissism would have driven me to the gym or yoga class and i’d be fitter. as it stands, i look thin but am the most unfit old cow ever.

please make me feel bad/worse so that i pick up some sort of activity.

tell me i’ll die young or something.

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scary fucking shit:

you know i hate my city… i hate it because of a myriad of reasons - the latest addition is the fact that it is full of unbelievably frustrated men. remember my psycho stalker (he’s been quiet for a while now, so he’s no longer a worry)? well, last wednesday, i picked up my sis and drove home. after i parked up in a dirt lot right outside my building (but of course), she whispered that there was a man standing in the corner, with his dick hanging out. shocked, i walked over and realized that he was wanking, while watching the two of us!!! just like that, in public, at eleven in the night! i was SO fucking mad that i walked closer and whacked him with my hand bag (it was full of things, so it was quite heavy). before i could do anything else though, he just turned, grabbed me, and squeezed my boobs!! i screamed REALLY loud and he ran off.

i was stunned for about 5 seconds.

and then i burst out laughing.

as most of you know, i constantly make fun of my ’small but perfectly formed’ (as one man chose to describe them) breasts. there REALLY isn’t much to grab at…so the poor guy really got the short end of the stick.

anyway, i’m being extremely careful after that and this is actually one of the reasons i’d like to take up some activity again (like kickboxing), so that instead of being terribly, pathetically girly and hitting with a purse, next time, i can beat such men to pulp.

(more…)

so i went to watch an act yesterday at a stupid club. they’re called the funjabi’s - a play on the word ‘punjabi’ which refers to people that hail from the north of india (or pakiland). like most things in life, the act pissed me off. some bits were funny, sure…it was the white guy that just made me so mad that i wanted to lunge across and bitch slap him into oblivion. actually wait, it wasn’t him, it was the audience.

he wasn’t the LEAST bit funny. his stand up routine consisted of coming on stage, saying something stupid, then singing a hindi song (to the absolute amazement and delight of the desis) and when that didn’t work, he’d shout ‘bhenchod’ and the audience just about wet themselves - ‘OH MY GOD, it’s a gora speaking OUR language’ hai, hai, what a moment!! then he went on to sing a truly stupid song to the tune of a classic hindi song about how his shoes are from japan, his watch is gucci, his shirt is from armani, his cap is russian but HE is an ‘english hindustani’ at heart.

all the desis felt validated - a gora who wants to be a desi??? it is a bloody miracle, i tell you!!

they went wild and cheered and clapped.

i was MAD - really, really mad.

i wanted to get up and tell them, “you fucking fools, you paid 75 dirhams to see some gora make chutias out of you by ruining our songs and saying ‘bhenchod’? would you be so entertained if i got up on stage and said bhenchod? NO! because you are idiots - you are easily entertained by anyone of a different color using your language because you are still suffering from the colonial hangover - you aren’t over the british raj - you are out to prove a point. does a gora get entertained when you speak in english? NO, they EXPECT you to speak in english.”

my ex-boss looked like a gora, although he is an arab - years of american schooling and university also gave him an american accent. he was fascinated by india, bollywood, the culture, and he wanted to become a desi. he still does. but he also laughed at how easy it was for him to become the centre of attention at a desi party…all he really had to do was bust out some of the hindi (especially all the bad words that i taught him) and drop the names of a few actresses and all the desis would be in fits - once again, ‘hai, hai, what a moment - dekha?? now THEY want to be like US!”.

indian papers report all the time that hollywood is now copying their films. their stars have managed to get bit parts in a jackie chan film (as the exotic indian princess) - they are no longer being portrayed as doctors and pharmacists. they LOVE going on about how the west is now aping the east…

don’t they realize that by giving so much importance to anything/everything western, they are obviously still worshipping the gori chamri (white skin)? i hate how everything boils down to language, region, caste, race, color…i hate how every desi writer out there capitalizes on his desiness by constantly talking about stereotypes, most of which don’t even exist anymore. i hate how the theme of the show last night revolved around the token gora and arranged marriages - the fact that there wasn’t a SINGLE couple in the club that had had an arranged marriage said SO much (they kept on trying to find someone, but everyone who was married had had a love marriage).

the club was full of the city’s poshest, most educated crowd (half of them were the usual u.k. desis, since this act hails from the u.k.). i guess that’s why i am even more shocked that they couldn’t see past the lame, cheap attempt at humor. the script was silly, one wouldn’t walk out of there retaining even a single line or moment (and off the top of my head, i can recall quite a few classic bill hicks, eddie izzard or jack handey lines) and the skits were pathetic.

honestly, the “comedians” were let off easy - they sat up one night, decided that they’d put their gora friend on stage, make him sing an indian song and cuss a bit, and the desis would laugh a lot because they immediately felt better about themselves.

the funjabi’s really had the last laugh.

the internet, in fact all telecommunications in my country, is monopolized by one organization. this basically means that even if we hate their service, we have to suck it up and deal with it.

usually, it isn’t that bad - the only thing i have a major problem with is the internet. the speed and packages are fine but it is heavily censored - they actually play ‘parents’ or god and block everything that is deemed ‘unislamic’. sometimes, one can understand it - like the famous ‘belle du jour’ blog being blocked? ok, i see what you’re saying - she’s a prostitute, and is writing about her exploits and it is all so very unislamic…

but friendster?

apparently, it’s blocked because it is a badly disguised, hooking up forum.

ok, mayyyy be i see your point. after all, once i put my profile up there, i did get a number of men sending me naked pictures of themselves, with offers for sex, along with their mobile numbers…

but i LOVE (not) how they block absolutely anything that contains any suggestive words in the url. if one looks up anything on STD’s and the url contains (as it most naturally would) the word sex, then the site is blocked. sexualhealth.com is BLOCKED - i am sorry, you can not educate yourself regarding the various diseases you may be contracting while shagging, because it is UNISLAMIC.

it gets more amusing.

‘freemuslims.org’ is blocked.

doesn’t that just say EVERYTHING?

today, jon over at asshole roomate (good site, by the way) posted something about saudis (did you know they actually have a law against women driving? misogyny at it’s best) and islam. he linked to this page - it was blocked. since the post mentioned wife beating in islam (which by the way is ALLOWED, under certain circumstances), i googled it. the first result was this site, which was ALSO blocked.

i finally found the actual verse that jon was talking about, on a site that my service provider approved of.

here it is:

[4:34] The men are made responsible for the women, and GOD has endowed them with certain qualities, and made them the bread earners. The righteous women will cheerfully accept this arrangement, since it is GOD’s commandment, and honor their husbands during their absence. If you experience rebellion from the women, you shall first talk to them, then (you may use negative incentives like) deserting them in bed, then you may (as a last alternative) beat them. If they obey you, you are not permitted to transgress against them. GOD is Most High, Supreme.

charming, isn’t it? no wonder they were trying to block me from reading this - obviously it would piss any woman off!!

given the liberal amount of bad, bad, bad words and blasphemy that one can find on my site (including/especially the old one), i am just waiting for it to be deemed unsuitable for viewing in this country. i don’t know whether i will laugh or cry when it happens…imagine being unable to access your OWN webpage?!

frankly, i am surprised it hasn’t happened yet.