Had Steve Jobs been alive today, he would have been turned 57. The man who shaped contemporary consumer technology died on October 5, 2011.

Steve Jobs was, as everyone can and will tell you everywhere and in every way possible till the world ends, a visionary. And my 2nd greatest inspiration, I must say.

Happy Birthday to Steve Jobs! His legacy will be, inspiring and encouraging others to be creative. Thank you for that, Steve!

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This Monday afternoon, I was walking back from a bank where I had some work. On my way back, there were few cars parked on the service road (frontage road) when I heard the sound of breaking glass.

It was a guy, who broke the door glass of a parked car to get the laptop + bag out. While his friend was on motorcycle ready to leave any second. When the guy near car saw me turning back, he signaled me to go back. But I kept advancing carefully.

The guy felt nervous, left the laptop bag in the car, and escaped on the bike with his friend.

Now I had no idea, where is the car owner. As there were couple of big buildings around and he could be in any of them. I thought to wait and guard his valuable bag and other stuff in the car. Actually I was afraid those guys can come back to take the bag. I waited for 30 min till the owner came.

When I was waiting, the idea of stealing came into my mind too. One of the major reasons was, I badly want and need a laptop.

I have no laptop of my own, this one which I am using now is of my friend Sidra and she is so nice to give it to me. But yes she needs it back too.

It was not just the thought of stealing came into my mind. Then I said to myself, “This laptop is very valuable to the owner as well, and he needs it to work on it too. So honestly return this property back to whoever is the owner.”

It is so nice now to think about what I decided, I felt like a hero after this. In fact some of my friends said this too. But believe me, it is ain’t so easy. And at the same time, it ain’t so difficult.

Later that evening, I got many good words from my friend and a very encouraging phone call from mom. That is the best reward.

Here is the response to my Facebook status update:

Click on the screenshot to friend me on Facebook.

Let’s close it, so what makes us a hero.

1. I and you are always surrounded with the thoughts of being selfish and taking share of someone’ else. What matter is the patience, believing that earned is always better than the given.

2. If someone asks me, who is the most special person in the world. I would say that is me. Everyday I go against myself, to go with myself.

I am a hero!

Did you know you are a hero too?

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• What I Want to Do
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• Speaking Truth to Tell a Lie and The Other Way Around

Filed under: Experience, Hello, Life

like eye goop.

Get dragged out of bed by hopeful mum (shall explain adjective later), half a sock in tow, been told the light will go at 8:00 p.m; it is 07:30, need to select clothes, then need to press clothes, fast.  Should wash face too. Should. It is too cold to wash face. Don’t. Take tissue, rub face vigorously with moisturizer to wipe dirt and tw0-day old mascara which is frighteningly stuck at all the wrong places around the eyes (the corners, the tips etc.), eyes feel wide shut, open them, try again. Been told by brother that face is fat and nothing looks good, also been told to wear girly clothes to look like girl, nonchalantly agree to looking like girl, get black shirt out, no shalwar or pajama to go with it, get black jeans out, they would have to do, shirt is long, will hide jeans, no one would know it is jeans, triumph at spark of brilliance, mentally thump back.

Face looks clean after moisturizer rub, hate make-up, hide from mum who will force make-up, wait for lights to go so she does not see the no-make face, crunch up and play hair to give messy look, love  that best about self. Don clothes before anybody sees, is relieved when light goes, apply lots and lots and lots of kajal, been told eyes are beautiful, should emphasize.

Rush, rush, rush to the wedding venue, hopeful mum (shall explain adjective later) looks sweetly murderous when she can finally see face, berates for lack of make-up and messy hair, does not see jeans, triumph once again at spark of brilliance, could be brand ambassa(dress) of such jeans- thinks inwardly- tell mum there is no make-up in bag, do not like lying, tell her that camera man is upon us and now leaving, what is point?, no-make-up-face is already on record, she shrugs, tells in so many words t0 not-fuck-off anywhere because there is a long journey to embark upon, throws us both in a throng of glittery, shiny women with painted faces, hahahhah, faces look so big can imagine someone playing ball with them, tons of make-up must make faces weigh, well, tons- giggles at self , is so funny- pastes fake smile on face, big enough to look like smile, small enough to not show teeth, do not like teeth, teeth are ugly….  fake smile is slipping, hold onto it like would a rein of a marching horse or the stump of a wriggly camel… something is in eye, twitch replaces smile… still say hello-how-are-you–you-look-so-nice–doesn’t-she-mum?–oh-you-have-a-baby-too–so-beautiful–do-come-to-our-house-sometime–no-we-are-still-living-there–hahaha-no-do-not-want-to-get-married-now–hahahah-no-want-to-study–hahaha-yes-please-do-tell-if-you-find-a-nice-guy-for-me (so I stay faaaaar away from him, say inwardly)–yes-cannot-stay-young-forever-you-are-right– yes-digital-clock-is-ticking–yes-yes-yes-yes…..

Steer self away from one to have similar conversation with another, hopeful mum (shall explain adjective later) smiles, she appreciates acquiesce- will take revenge from her later-, oh, it is time to go see the bride now, is it?

High on the ‘block’

He has a memory of a pick’s.

Pick, you know, like a drink pick or a cocktail pick, that small thin stick which we use to pick small eatables from? Pieces of cucumber perhaps or watermelon…

Alright, I know picks are things and things do not have memory.. unless of course if you are counting memory cards, mobile phones, sim cards, computers…(so I was wrong, things do have memory)…. Lets just say, picks are things which have no memory. You know how you pick something with a pick and put it in your mouth and that’s that?- that is the end of its very existence. Maybe it had been lying on a tray for a really, really long time but apart from that, this pick or picks in general are short-lived and terminal.

So you see why I say his memory is like a pick’s? I could have said his memory is like that of a gold fish but that would have defeated the entire purpose of telling something in a round about way, going this-away and that-away without really getting to the point, using a word so many times it starts to p(r)ick at you;  so much so that even when the word is not being used, it seems like it is and thereby, convincing all of the unfortunate one-or-two readers that you have to stop being (readers, that is).

The point is, and it is a universal fact (I use the word ‘fact’ very loosely because I really don’t think it is scientifically proven or even tested for that matter but if it were… ) that it is awfully irritating when people forget things which mean something to you and you told them repeatedly about it and they still manage to forget. And you, instead of taking it out at them, decide to write about it in the most bizarre fashion that your mind could whip up at that moment, and continue writing.

So yes, I am utilizing my phase of non-writing by writing about nothing. Perhaps my next post will be on my passionate love affair with punctuation marks; semi-colon in particular or on full stops alone and their significance in the world of running sentences, running lives- thronged with confusing emotions, bombarded with dizzying information, lost between the apprehension of death and the obvious disillusionment with life, unhinged, unsettling, flustered, befuddled foolishness…

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Does one have to be a writer to have writer’s block?

Sit down. Be quiet. Don’t whine. Open word document. A fresh A4 page. Choose font to suit mood. Drop idea. Stick with Times New Roman. Move cursor to the top of the page. Prepare to write…. Prepare to write…

Stare. Stare. Stare.  Let fingers hover over the keyboard. Feel inspired. Feel very, very motivated to write. Mentally take your hand inside your head and rummage through looking for an idea. A figment of an idea perhaps?

Leave it. Get up and go for a long walk. How long can the mind remain blank? There must be some point when it stops being blank and throw over a nugget of idea, a simple thought, a sentence.. a word… an idea of a word?

Things are so topsy turvy, they are turvy-topsy. I feel I have a lot to talk about but I cannot quite form the right words. So instead I am writing about the state of non-writing.

How can it be writer’s block if I am writing? It is like selective amnesia, really. I have selective writer’s block. The mind refuses to produce bouts of ideas for what I want to write about and only words of frustration make sense and tumble out…

Then perhaps stop. Then perhaps sit back and decide not-to-write rather than to-write. Maybe the mind works like Thing 1 and Thing 2 from ‘The cat in the hat’. Order them something and they would guarantee doing the opposite. Maybe the mind is engineered to go as far away from things you are concentrating too much on, maybe it is lazy and exhausts easy.

So here it is. This is me stopping and unwriting. Lets see if it works. And soon.

Related articles

• “Listening to Writer’s Block” by Joshua J. Mark (writersparty.com)
• They make Drano for that, don’t they? (studenteventsblog.wordpress.com)
• Unclogging this writer’s block (myrandomlittleblog.wordpress.com)

No one knows what makes your mind tick.. When you hear someone say something; read something in the morning newspaper; the bitterness of your morning coffee gets you thinking about bitter other-some-things.  


We all know that any sort of ‘ticking’ must have some emotion in the back of it all, which makes the ‘ticking’ longer and inspires an action, or feeling, from us.. That we may, or may not be proud of (but that’s another thing).
I have no idea what the scientific research on this says, but for me, its probably powered by emotions. For example, if I see someone fighting for a good cause, I’d feel happy, proud and get inspired to do something like that or at least take some action in support to that. 
Getting ‘ticked’ (in a positive way) is always healthy, and oh-so-important for a human to grow. If a human being isn’t inspired by a certain-something, how will we ever do things and become the people we’re supposed to become? Even if, say, one’s forced to study or not to lie, would that change the person inside? Maybe, a little. But even that’d be a short term change, and very superficial. In order for a human to grow truly, and from within, one needs to be inspired by something.. And that’ll only happen when something/someone ticks the inspiration button on.