It Rained ! In Qatar ! In November !

I was just coming out of the bathroom, when I was informed by my dear husband that I had just missed the first thunderstorm of the season.

My reaction consisted of a lot of shrieking and running to the window to inspect everything myself. The sky was so beautiful. It looked like it was 5 in the evening, when the sun is almost down, and its that moment between going all dark and being full bright.

With more pressing matters on my mind like getting make up off my face and changing into comfy PJ's, I moved on from the sky.

We were ready to go to sleep. At least Mr A was. I had tons of studying to do. But following his routine, he got up to smoke. And that magical moment when I am told that it is raining. I have never appreciated his smoking habits more.

I ran to the window. And it was raining.

In Qatar ! In November ! Aaaah, what a magical night !

I wanted to jump out of the window and dance in the rain. But sadly, now my actions are monitored.

I am proud to say that I did not forget my camera. Which was such a waste because I ended up not using it anyway.

When we went downstairs into the compound, I was so sad to see that no one was outside.

NOT A SINGLE SOUL !

IT WAS RAINING. In QATAR ! And no one was out.

Everyone was hanging out from there windows, taking pictures on their I pads or phones.

We being the stupid ones got into the car and went on a drive. After getting into the car, I realised that showering myself with rain and getting the brand new leather seats ruined is not an option. My heart was crying and cursing my husband at that point. And my, why the hell did I marry this guy ? thoughts were back.

But after two streets, he thankfully reversed the car and we came back home to rain.

There was still no one outside in the compound. It made me sad. What has the world come to ? Why are things like rain and rainbows hold no importance in our life anymore ? How is it that today, we are more into updating our statuses about rain than going out and enjoying it ?

In Pakistan, we had a ritual. The minute rain started, my dad would tell mom to make "Pakoras". All us kids would be out playing games like "Pakkan Pakrai" and cricket in the rain. Lemonade would be made. My mom would hand out all the snacks to dripping wet kids. Our days of rain would always end by having a huge water fight with all the water bottles of the house.

I love technology and all the ways our life has become easier. But I do miss the fact that we have forgotten the small things in life.

Like rain, sunsets and rainbows.

....SAP....

How Does This World Work ?

I have my own bank account.

Every time I say these words, there is this shock that comes with it.

How ?

I still cannot believe that.

I know that today, its very normal to have a bank account. Every kid on the street probably has a credit card.

But for me its not a small thing. I mean, I am 19 and I have my own account with my own money in it. When did that happen ? When did I become capable of doing that ?

There are people in this world, who live there entire lives working hard to get certain things. And I have all those things without even lifting my finger. And I am only 19.

It makes me wonder how this world works.

For me bank accounts portray first jobs, first hard earned money that you slaved for all your life. You started with nursery, went on to primary school and somehow ended up in an office after submitting dozens of CV's, giving interviews, feeling like a complete loser despite having a legit degree. That is what an account is worth to me. It signifies achievements and that sweat your poured into whatever you did to have those few notes transacted in your account.

So it feels weird to me. It feels surreal. Because I am getting all this without working for it. Unless you count surviving a marriage.

Than hell yeah, I deserve this.

I do not count that. So lets just leave it at that.

The thing I am most excited about is seeing my name on that piece of magical card which brings money to you.

Or not, if your account is empty. Which mine is going to be pretty soon.

I am actually going to challenge myself to see how many months I can survive before my bank balance goes zero.

...SAP...

Pir-e-Kamil !

Aab e Hayyat !

Its first episode is right in front of me. And I do not know what to do.

I love Pir e Kamil. Love is a very small word to describe what I feel for this book. Its that book. The book that changes your life.

How you think about it. How you live it. How you do anything.

I cannot decide whether I should read it or not. I know I am not going to able to contain myself. But I just want to take a moment and remember what it felt like to start this book. Once again, this book is going to change my life.

I have been waiting for this book since 2008. That was the year that I read Pir E Kamil. I was 13. Barely old enough to understand the book. My Khala gifted this book to my elder brother on his result after he told her how much he had loved reading a little bit of it.

Huzaifa used to write about this book in every Slam Diary that I made. And he kept telling people to read it. His only advice was read Pir e Kamil. It will change your world.

And he was right.

Because it did change my world.

Whenever I go back to this book, I start seeing it in a different light. I learn something new, something incredible. The book is like a maze, the more you explore it, the more you keep finding treasures.

I wish I had the ability to write just 1 percent as Umera Ahmed does. But than, its a gift.

After reading this book for the first time, I am never going to have that. I am never going to be able to read it again. To have that feeling where you know you are reading an incredible book and you do not know what is to come.

One thing is certain, I will love this book no matter how the story folds out.

...SAP...

Removal Of Assets

I am studying to be an Accountant.

This semester, I am studying topics like Fraud and Internal Control in an organisation, in one of the papers. There are two types of fraud. One is "Removal of Assets or Funds From the Business". Something that comes under this category is "Misappropriation of assets from the organisation", which basically means that as an employee, you are taking an advantage of your position. You may be taking something home that belongs to the organisation. It can be a small thing like a Stapler. Or you might be stealing high end perfumes from the shop.

When I was a kid, my dad always said that stealing is stealing. Whether it is a pencil or a laptop. Its the act that is the same, the thing is of no value. He used to bite the end of his pencils in his office so if he took them home, he knew which one was the company's. And to this day, not one of us kid is allowed to write with any of the pens that my dad uses because they are not ours.

None of us give any importance to little matters like this. But the truth is that it is fraud. You are committing a felony.

Another type of fraud that is included in this category is "Misusing of Organisation's Assets". The most common instance is that we are given a car for office use. But instead it is in your son's hands being used to hang out with his friends. Or for sight seeing Kangaroos with your daughters best friend and your wife's sister's family.

After working in the same company for more than 25 years, now my dad uses his office car for personal use as well. And its only after being granted the official permission. According to him, I do not want my kids being dishonest. It starts with stealing a pencil and than leads to cars, drugs, money etc in the future.

It does not matter what's the value of the thing you misused or stole.

We as human beings have a tendency to dismiss such things as "Being small matters and not that big of a deal".

It will become a big deal, once you develop the thinking that you can utilise anything that comes your way regardless to who it belongs to.

In school, everyone used to open each others bags to take out a notebook or a pen without asking or telling. Obviously, I did not mind my friends opening my school bag. But than everyone who wanted something would just waltz in and open my bag like its their property. I hated that. And I made sure that everyone knew that.

I mean, didn't your mom ever teach you to ask before taking something ?

If you have forgotten. Than start learning.

If you don't. Its called "STEALING". Which is a "FELONY".

Yes, you might not go to jail for taking a rubber out of my pencil box. But when that rubber converts to an Omega watch, you will find yourself in a 7 by 8 foot room.

...SAP...

Having To Act Older

I got married at 19. Which sounds crazy right now but it turned out good in my case.

One of the things that I have to deal with because of getting married at such a young age is people wanting me to act ten years older than I really am.

Despite being the youngest in the house and being married to the third kid in the family, everyone is adamant to make me the eldest.

I am 19. I am going to act 19. Just because I said yes to this social stigma does not mean that I have grown horns and am a Stag now. I am at the age where all I want to do is sleep, study, eat, do what I love and repeat. I want to go out and spend all my money on one thing i.e, if I have money in the first place. I do not have any responsibilities on my shoulder and the last thing I desire is to act as someone would want me to. So I do not give a second thought to what people say about me or to me.

Because its not on my list of things to care about.

I am going to act stupid and make poor decisions. I am going to disagree with you on certain things and do what I want in others. I am going to eat out all week and gain weight. I will stay up all night watching Harvey somehow winning despite losing the case and than Mike Ross dumping his girlfriend for someone else. I will make excuses to go out on endless dinners to people's houses I barely know.

The last thing I would want to do is get ready every single day. I do not mean the put on clothes, a couple pieces of jewelry, Mascara, Kajal and Lip Gloss and hope to look half decent. Its more like choosing the clothes with the most beads and thread work on, matching the bag and shoes, making your sure your skin looks like it can be featured in a B grade style magazine, putting on as much of the Gold jewelry as you can manage and after that, praying to not look like you are on your way to a wedding. When instead you are at home decorating yourself for no reason.

Imagine going out for a walk on corniche in that attire.

People expect that you will change your husbands habits and make him quit smoking or not drink Pepsi. They want you to participate in every small thing that goes around the house. You are suppose to take part in what gifts to be given to others. You have to go to all their friends and relatives and be the picture of a "Perfect Bahu". Everyone expects that you will make the other do stuff they do not want, as if you are a magician instead of a girl.

I would not want someone to tell me to stop drinking Coke than why should I tell him ? Everyone of my mothers endless friends know that I will appear in their social gatherings only on Eid.

Its not that I cannot bear all these little things. I can. And I do.

But sometimes they infuriate me.

There so much small talk that I can make.

Almost all the friends in your family's circle are in their Forties or Fifties. And I am not even half that age. I cannot bridge that gap just because one day I got married.

Not happening any time soon.

I have been lucky in this regard that I am blessed with an incredible family, who 95% percent of the time treat me, my age. And let me be who I am instead of making me what everyone wants. Its been almost four months since I got married and I have attended a total of 5 Post Wedding Mandatory Show Off Dawats. In another time and place, I would be attending at least a 100 of them.

And I am not even exaggerating right now.

Basically you have to get ready, eat and socialize with plastic smiles on your faces and acting as if you care.

When in reality you are just two crazy kids trying to figure out life and being happy at the same time.

I know that I might sound ungrateful. Some girls do want to do all that. But I do not. Not at this age or any age, for that. Everyone has different things that they find difficult.

This is just one of mine.

...SAP...

You Gotta Dress To Impress

The one thing I see in a guy is his dressing. I will not notice the height, features or the smile. Its the clothes, the way his shirt matches that rolled up denim, the square dial watch compliments his wrist or the mismatched socks peaking out of those Neon Converse.

Its in the details.

Today, dressing has diminished. There are very few guys who actually like to find out what suits them and what does not. We live in an era where there is more make up on our faces and less clothes on our bodies.

Even now, if you go to a simple shop in Pakistan, the shop keeper will be wearing crisp white starched Shalwar Kameez of the latest trend, watch, his hair combed neatly partitioned to the right and sandals which shine more than your Silver ware on the dining table.

Unfortunately, when I got married, the first thing I got to know was that Mr A is, well, not into clothes. By that I mean, he has no interest in making sure that his leather jacket is of the latest cut and style, let alone wear Car cuff links or a Burj Khalifa Tie Pin. His idea of looking presentable enough to be seen in public is wearing sweatpants with a t shirt.

I know. I don't believe where I ended up either. But that is the reality of life.

So my fantasies of seeing him dress up in a Blazer or a nice Vest, went down the brain and into the delete pile of my thoughts. Because if I ask him to go and change clothes, it goes from sweat pants to jeans and a black t shirt.

I often tell him that if I were a girl in a mall, I would not even give him a second glance.

On top of all this, his working space and his environment has been very casual so he does not has to make an effort.

But now all that is going to change.

Mr A got a new job. And its a fancy one. I term it "fancy" in the dressing department.

He is an accountant, so he has to wear work suits and much more formal clothing than he is used to.You cannot just walk around wearing dress pants and a white shirt anymore.

Sometimes you do not want to do a particular thing. But than circumstances change, and you end up embracing the change.

Welcome to the big league ! Where you have to dress to impress. 

...SAP...

I Can Finally Drive

Even before I turned 16, I wanted to go to USA. Because you could get your drivers license at 16. That was the utmost teenager dream of mine. I had it all planned out. I would get an International Drivers License and hopefully, I could drive in Qatar at 16, as well.

My dear dad was kind enough to hand me the keys and show me the place behind the steering wheel at 11 years. I used to drive alongside the beach right up the Saudi border because we used to visit it every month to get our Visit Visa renewed.

As I grew up, I got busy in other things and driving was pushed to the back of my mind. 

But as 20 May 2013 came nearer, my excitement grew. Because I would finally turn 18. The sacred moment I had waited for all these years. 

Imagine me, driving Corniche road, looking hip in Mint Ray-Bans and the stereo cracked up to my "at the moment obsessed song".

And than crashing the car. 

I turned 18 and because exams were going on, decided to wait for the license. But than, came a string of occasions or reasons that I refrained from getting the license. I kept putting it off.

That burning desire was gone. 

It happens. When you want something very badly and somehow you have to wait for it, the desire just goes away. When you finally get it, its not the same. 

You are not the same. 

Since last week, I had been gathering up documents and getting information from Driving Schools to finally get my Drivers License. But I could not feel that 15 year old me wanting to go to USA vibe anymore.

It was a fine moment. Not an UH-MAZING moment.

But today, I entered the Driving School to finally get my Admittance Card and get everything finalised. All of a sudden, I was that 15 year old Sumaica again. 

It hit me. I am getting my Drivers License. I can finally drive a car. I can stop throwing water on my brother or begging different people to drive me around.

And best of all, I get to listen to whatever I want. There is no one to change the sound track.

...SAP...

Inside Jokes

Its the little snippets that you share with a loved one, locked in a bathroom or a hello every morning with that cute stranger in the coffee line on your way to work. 

Its that stupid cup cake bra of Katy Perry's that you made fun off. And the month after that which consisted of your conversations, starting with or including cupcakes and Katy Perry. And now everytime someone mentions those Sugary Delights, you search for your friend in the crowd and burst out laughing. Or your remember her with her incredibly loud cheerful laugh. And smile longingly at that memory. 

Its that moment when you see a pretty looking building in the middle of a restaurant hub and you ask whether that's a restaurant as well. You are looked at incredulously and are told that its some rich Sheikhs grave. Apparently the Souq is named after him. And you believe him. And than point out his stupidity when in fact you were the fool all along. 

Its those moments that no one else except that one person will understand. Someone other than them will never find cupcakes as hilarious or get the meaning of your hello. 

Because its not for them. 

You are lucky if you have those. 

Moments. Inside jokes. Not the friends. 

It doesn't matter who the person is. 

Stranger or foe. A memory has been made for life. A joke formed. 

And that person all of a sudden has been embedded in your mind. 

Every time you pass that restaurant, those expressions will be on your mind. His crooked nose, him doubling over in laughter while crossing the intersection will play in front of you. 

That time you walked home all the way from Villagio and was nearly killed at the traffic lights. The "I told you so" plus the death glares you got from that family friend will be remembered.

Or the time you and your brother made an elaborate story of your other sibling stealing Raisins from your Grandma's cupboard to give to his five year old girlfriend. No one else other than the three of you will find it funny. 

These cannot be made. 

Or talked. 

They are spontaneous. 

Instant. 

You cannot force them. 

It happens when it happens. 

Or it doesn't happen at all. 

You are in luck if it does. 

...SAP...

I Am Thankful

What is it that makes us thankful ?

My dad always says that its that time when someone whacks you in the kneecaps with a hammer, and you are forced to fall down on your knees, that is when you see your feet in shoes. And you see the pavement underneath it. You don't think about the workers who put that pavement together in scorching heat with bruised hands.

Living in Jeddah, we all had our own rooms which we decorated according to our taste which meant having bicycles in the bedroom.

I never realised the luxury of it till we moved to Qatar and I had to share a room with brothers. Those were the times when I wanted to study, they wanted to sleep. I wanted to talk on the phone, they wanted to watch a movie.

Its the sound of that Aayyat, in your head that gives you goosebumps, while you shiver with the thought of all the blessings that are laid upon our feet.

And which of your Lord's bounties will you deny ? Surah Rahman (55, 13)

It gets me every time. Not just once or twice, but every time I hear it. And you start looking at the little things in life. Like the fact that you can buy a phone without giving it a second thought. Instead of choosing between paying the house rent or getting food in tiny hungry bellies, we get to choose between rows upon rows of shoes.

So I thought that I need to reflect on how the year has gone by and make a list of things that I am not only grateful for but also thankful.

1. I am thankful to be a Muslim and to be born in a Muslim family.
2. I am thankful for good health, good families and good food. More importantly the food.
3. I am thankful to have an incredible guy in my life whose contentment makes me envy him.
4. I am thankful for the chance to be my own person and to do what I want.
5. I am thankful that I got to travel a lot this year.
6. I am thankful for wearing Black on my wedding day and doing everything the way I wanted.
7. I am thankful for amazing friends in my life who I can never replace.
8. I am thankful to be the only girl in the family.
9. I am thankful to have, not just one but two bedrooms.
10. I am thankful for a wardrobe full of clothes, shoes, bags and rubbish I don't really need.
11. I am thankful for the increase in my pocket money. I mean, who does not ?

In short, I am grateful that I have had the life I did. Not many people are that fortunate.

And I am thankful for that.

...SAP...

Its Just A Matter Of When

When we moved to Qatar, the first house that we stayed in was given to us by the company by dad worked for.

It did not have a single bulb or tube light in it.

It was the same case with the second and the third house. When asked for a house loan, we were given a bogus company policy excuse.

We bought every single energy saver in the house.

So when we finally moved houses a fourth time, after finding a house on our own terms, my mom wanted to payback the company for their generosity.

Moving day arrived, all of our packed and unpacked things go in the trucks, vans and cars hired by friends and family friends. Things got broken but most of them were shifted.

Last moment in the house, we are going through it to see if anything is left, when all of a sudden my mother looks up and sees the energy savers.

She gets hold of the ladder, climbs it up and takes it down. Than she goes around the house taking them all down one by one, liking ripping off band aid.

I stood there, telling her not to such an idiotic thing but her answer was the same, "I am not leaving without these."

So we went to the new house, a bag cradled in my lap with 8 energy savers and me praying that they don't break.

While setting up the new house, my mother noticed that a few bulbs were missing in the chandeliers in some of the rooms. Out comes the energy savers bag with a lecture on her being right and a mom smirk.

Fast forward ten minutes later, when I am standing on the ladder telling her that the ones we need are the twisting ones and the ones she took off of the old house were screw in ones.

Sometimes you have to let go.

Be it grudges or old buddies.

Its a Honey Bee that will sting you.

Its just a matter of when.

...SAP...

Value Your Independence

When I was younger, I saw my mom being the man of the house. My dad was working out of country and so she was the one paying all the bills, fees, getting grocery, putting dinner on the table and making sure that her kids grow up as humans. She was living in a joint family system, managing a house and raising three kids.

And even when we were coming to KSA, she was the one doing the embassy rounds, making sure we had everything we needed from School Certificates to new bed sheets.

On top of it all, my father would challenge us siblings to see who would go furthest in the sea. When he taught me how to ride a bike, he would not rush to pick up the fallen bicycle, I had to do it. And I learnt riding a bike in two nights.

Along the ride, I was also taught the same thing. I was taught to do things. deal with situations and find solutions on my own. From wearing socks to getting in a fight at school, I was doing it myself. I used to tell them the daily happenings. They would listen and laugh at it, but never tell me what to or not to do.

That was always my call. Sometimes I made a good one. Sometimes a bad one.

And that has molded me into the person I am today.

Yes, I had to tell them when I was going out or if I was staying after school. Yes, they said no to a lot of things.

I really appreciate that. Because over the years, there have been times when I had no idea what to do but I did it anyway. Because I was taught that. And I ended up learning a lot from it.

Independence is one of the best things life has to offer. You do not need someone else to back you up if you believe in your own words. You cannot always wait for someone to fill out your Visa application forms. Or bake the cookies that you need to take to a party.

At the end of the day, no one else is going to come and clean the mess of your life.

You have to get up and go do it. Otherwise, you end up being the worst version of yourself.

Do not become Scarlette O'Hara. Become Jane Eyre or Elizabeth Bennet.

...SAP...

30 Day Challenge: Day 2

Day 2 Tell about a character who lost something important to him/her.

My name is Omar Ahmad. I was born in Gulshan Iqbal, Karachi on a night where lightning and a dark storm had engulfed the whole city. Being the only kid gave me everything I wanted. I had a never ending pocket money, bicycle, a laptop, Play Station and its various games, Limited Edition Nikes and the latest phone in my hand.

I finished Elementary school. And went on to the prestigious Agha Khan Secondary School because it was my fathers dream. I barely got in by a minute percentage difference.

Besides I had nothing to worry about as long as my fees was being paid and I had money in my pockets. During my school years, I wanted a bike. So my father went ahead and bought me one.

Than I wanted to go on a trip around Pakistan, with my friends. I knew that a my father's sister was getting married and money was a little tight. But I asked for a couple grand and he handed me the money without a question or a crease in his forehead.

Than came university. My father's only life mission was to make me an engineer. Because he could never become one. So he lavished his hard work on me to make me succeed and see his dreams being fulfilled.

Only I did not want to do anything. Period.

I wanted to enjoy life. I wanted to sleep till 3 in the afternoon, roam around with my friends and spend money like the millionaire I never was.

I made him promise me to buy a car if I got in, in a university.

I got admission in the most pathetic university of the city. But I got what I wanted. A brand new car, to show off to my friends and smoke in.

In the middle of my university years, a friend of mine went to the states. I saw his pictures and heard his bragging about American girls and making money the easy way. I decided to go as well.

I asked him for money. I told him what I wanted it for. And I was so blind, I did not even see the tears brimming in his eyes, his callous hands and white hair telling a story of hardships and sacrifices.

I got the visa. I booked the ticket. And I came here. I left him. I left the thing that should have been most precious to me. But I was so selfish to ever see that.

I lost the most important thing in my life on purpose.

...SAP...

30 Day Writing Challenge, Day 1

The other day I was telling my friend, how my writing has become more of a reality show script than what I wanted. So I decided to take matters into my own hands and try out one of the writing challenges. Because I want to write fiction. I saw a couple of challenges and this 30 Day Writing Challenge stood out the most.

So that is what I will be doing for this month.

Day 1 —Select a book at random in the room.  Find a novel or short story, copy down the last sentence and use this line as the first line of your new story.

The book I chose was The Girl Who Played With Fire by Steig Larsson, mainly because it was on my side table. 

She was going to need it, or she would die.

He thought about all the things that had gone wrong in his calm and serene life.

Three days ago, he was sitting in Germany, Skyping with his kids back home and telling them that he had gotten the i-pod and the American Girl doll, that they wanted. He had asked about her, but she was busy making dinner. So obviously, he did not persist and talked to the rest of his family and than went to sleep.

And now here he was, sitting on the cold hospital bench, hands clenching his throbbing forehead, being told that it was over. Unless some miracle happened.

She was going to need everyone's prayers.

Their story was very simple. They had met through family friends and had instantly liked each other. He had introduced her to his parents, thinking that they would reject her but they had liked her more than him. After that it was a matter of months.

They had gotten engaged among family and friends, all the time being told how lucky they were to marry the one they loved.

After an year came Mehndi, Baraat and the reception. Again they were looked upon as a very fortunate couple.

And now, ten years later, they had two beautiful kids, a well decorated house and an incredible partner.

They had everything.

Until that damned driver, who had shattered their perfect mirror of a life in 5 minutes and a single turn.

Now she lay in that spotless white bed, hooked up to a million machines, tubes going in and out of her, after giving up on him and their life together.

He sat there, cold and helpless, waiting for his worst fears to be confirmed and the tears to flow, wondering how his luck had changed in ten years.

...SAP...

Beautiful Little Country Called Qatar

Long drives are the best. Its the peace and quiet that surrounds you which is altogether exhilarating.

If you roll down your windows, try to take your head out to whip your hair and have a total 80's moment, you will be rewarded with a blast of hot air in your face. You will end up looking like you haven't taken off your makeup for three days.

But inside the car, with the stereo blasting and the sun setting, the scene is almost perfect.

When life gets hard and you don't know what to do, go on a long drive. Get double or even triple scoop ice cream, the more, the better, put on your favourite music and let it go.

And pray that you do not get stuck in traffic.

In my case, when I get bored out of my mind and have no idea what to do, I go on long drives. Malls are too crowded and beaches are too humid. I have seen the Museums and whatever there is here.

I have a plan. When I get my license, I am going to explore Qatar and get lost on purpose. I am going to leave my phone at home and hope that this on purpose adventure be awesome, instead of me turning up in a Police Station. In that case, no one will even get me out.

 I want to see all the parts of this teeny tiny country. Like you would hunt for coins in the nooks and crannies of your house, I want to do that.

I want to explore this beautiful little country called Qatar which has been my home since almost 8 years.

......

Somethings Were Amiss

After I finished school and parted ways with my best of friends, I knew that life would be very different.

Especially in terms of friendships. There would be no four hour long phone conversations or knowing every single thing going on in a friends house including the names of third cousins and the who is getting married to whom.

And I was okay with that. Because I knew that they will come back to Qatar, or I will go to Pakistan and there will be hurried lunches or a half an hour meeting at the friends college.

It would not be the same. But it would be something.

There was one thing I was never sure about.

Whether we will have that connection. Or not. Will we be able to talk for hours from horses to the newest actor in town. Whether we will pretend or truly laugh at the other person's joke.

It did change. Our friendships. More like the way we communicated.

From local phones, we went on to Skype calls. From telling every single detail to most important things first and than other things. But inside jokes were explained, friends were introduced virtually, common old friends were talked about and book recommendations were given.

I once completely forgot to call my friend when she had told me to. They could not make it to my wedding. I was not able to listen to her problem in time. M could not see all the wedding shopping I did.

So somethings were amiss. But we got over it.

I met my best friend after almost six months yesterday. As we were sitting, eating our Pasta, she was talking about her friends, how one of them stands affixed in the middle of the road to photograph something. I told her about my new family, how Mr A's sister is the one left eating even when we are ready to leave.

There are times when days pass and our conversation comprises of hello's and how are you's. Than there are days, where we forget what we were doing while typing with all ten fingers, cutting each others sentences to finish our story first.

We have worked through it. An year has passed us. We are in different cities in different countries.

As G said, "Yet we are stronger than ever.

...SAP...

Letters To The Moon # 3 : I MADE IT

Dear Moon,

Successfully done with the wedding. I would call it a success based on the number of people I have pissed off and made enemies.

Its weird that all these years, I felt like wedding was this huge obstacle in the way of my plans. And it was something that was suppose to be done. Like you give SATs. Or you follow the Traffic Rules.

But that stereotype of mine has fallen from the top most shelf and is in a million pieces, being swept away by a broom.

I don't feel like anything has changed.

Other than being in a completely different house, with different people and waking up a little early than usual.

Last year, right about this time, I had a very different idea of where I wanted to be.

But I am satisfied of where I am right now. Its a good place. With excellent food. And lots of books.

The only accomplishment of mine this past year has been making through all this. I feel like getting a tattoo of "I MADE IT" on my forehead.

And the best part about is that I still feel like myself. I feel like the Sumaica who strives for extra-ordinary things, loves Pizza and sees the world a little differently.

So life is not that bad. Come to think of it, its not bad at all.

Except a lot of people bitching about different things. But than that always happens.

What about you ? I think, in my ramblings, I completely forgot that you exist. I haven't seen you around much. Mainly, because now my view from the bathroom has changed.

But no worries, I will find a way to see you again.

Adieu !

S

.....

Getting High

I know how it feels to be high. Not the literal high. The figure of speech high. The kind of high that drugs or being intoxicated gives you.

That moment of total bliss where you do not know who you are or what you are doing.

All you know is that you are happy.

You do not know the reason.

And sometimes its not even necessary.

As long as that moment lasts. As long as you keep getting that kick. As long as your mind keeps going back to that happy place.

It happens when you are on the World's Fastest Roller Coaster and everything just flies by, even your drool.

You look like you regret hitch hiking all the way to that particular place. But your mind knows. That that high is better than anything.

I feel like that. I feel intoxicated. I feel high. I feel happy.

...SAP...

To Be Proud

I was in 7th grade, the days of MSN and endless hours chatting with friends, when I sent an email to all of my friends, asking them to tell me my wrong points. Things that I did which annoyed them, things they thought I did wrong, habits that were just bad in general etc.

I wanted to change and become a better person.

I thought that I could be the best there is.

A friend of me replied back, saying, why the hell would you want to change ? You are who you are. If you lose that, than who are you ?

That was the first time that I thought about who I really was.

Ever since that, change terrifies me.

I fear that I will lose my true self in hope for a more perfect self. I don't want perfect. I want true.

Its been two weeks since I got married and I have been getting messages, comments, wall posts, emails of wishes and prayers. One thing that almost all of them have in common is this message, "DO NOT CHANGE". Do not become the typical Asian aunty that girls tend to be after getting married in our culture.

I do not know the answer to that. I do not know if I will change.

The only thing I want is that if I change, its for good.

When I look in the mirror, and see the person reflecting back at me, I want to be proud of her.

I want to be proud to be her.

That is all I want.

Let's see what the daylight brings.

......

She Was Everything

I missed my mom.

In 50 'C weather, grunting and complaining, we all went to Umm Saeed to ride and drive Buggies. This was such a familiar yet old sight that it rejuvenated me. And I went all crazy, could not wait to do stunts etc person.

So there I am, refusing to sit with anyone and driving the buggies at least thrice more than everyone else. By this point, I am sure I was labeled as a very insane "Bahu" who had not seen a thing in her life. 

In my defense though, I refused to sit with Mr A. Because he drove so damn slow.

But my loving remarks made him see the light.

Which resulted in both of us going a little over board and in our excitement, we got hurt. 

One Friday, we were getting married. The next we were in need of stitches. 

Its an incredible sight with you bleeding, and ten people fussing over you, giving their advice and trying their best to implement it as well. 

Than we went on to the sea side. I was sitting there, my face puffy and swollen, stars in my eyes, and all I wanted was Amma.

Mr A's whole family was there, playing and joking around, asking about us and showing there concern at every 15 minute interval. 

But it was not the same. 

Sitting under that jet black sky, over looking the
greys and blues of the never ending sea, surrounded by yellows and oranges of the desert, I just wanted to lie in my mom's lap and close my eyes.

Forget everything else. 

I missed my mom. 

In that moment, she was everything.

......

The Theory Of Mr A

Five days after our marriage, Mr A and I, went out to dinner alone instead of all the relatives and family that has crowded their house.

I am a very independent person who does not really believe in guys paying for dinners, movies etc all the time. 

It just does not make sense.

So the time had come to make my views very clear by action. I had already done it verbally.

As I step out of the car, he goes like, "so its your treat ? Right ?"

Me, "Yeah, sure." I am doing a mental chicken dance.

And than we go inside, order Garlic Bread and Potato Wedges for starters and dig in. 

Inside I am thinking, wow, this is totally awesome. Being a typical traditional guy, I was ready to face his male ego. And badger him with dignified answers.

Unfortunately, that did not happen. 

See, when the bill came around, he offered me his wallet but did not insist on paying at all.

I paid with a huge smug smile on my face, all the time thinking about the glory of winning a battle.

As we step out of Pizza Hut, he says, "Whats for dessert ? Make it my treat."

But because I am such an over confident idiot, I get Double Scoop Waffle Cone ice cream and pay for it myself. 

I am still thinking of myself as a winner.

And that is when the bomb goes off. 

Mr A explains to me his theory. This theory states that,

" Make the person pay for all the dinners, shopping etc, so that they run out of money. You sit back, relax and wait for them to come and ask you for money with puppy dog eyes and embarrassing smiles. "

No comments.

Looks like I have found the perfect match after all.

...SAP...

I Have A Plan

When I was younger I had a plan. For everything.

In second grade I wanted to be a pilot. I had it all figured out. I wanted to fly. And the best way to do that was by flying a plane.

Because I never learned to do things the simple way. It was either the high way or no way.

Than in fourth grade, I wanted a horse stables. I had no idea how that actually works. But I loved horses so I wanted a room full of them. And make a future out of it.

In 6th grade, I wanted become a Chartered Accountant. I loved Mathematics and the highest degree I could think of was becoming a CA.

In 10th grade, I was set on becoming a doctor. I was going to become a surgeon. and not just any. A Neurologist. Or a dentist if that did not work out. I know, too much of McDreamy.

Somewhere in between I also wanted to win the biggest debate competition and be called, "Debater of the World". I know now, that term does not really exist.

Than when I fell in love with writing, I did not just want to write short stories or articles in a magazine. My ultimate goal was to write a book. And that will happen, someday.

But that's just me. When I do something. I like to do it big. Or not do it at all.

Everyone has a different definition of doing it. That's just mine. And its ridiculous sometimes.

Now, I am studying to become a Chartered Accountant.

My two best friends are in Medical school.

I want to pass and get a private flying license one day.

I want to own a horse. Just one, in this case.

I got the Speaker of the Year award which unbelievably came into existence.

My articles get published in different places from time to time. And I have a blog. The book is on its way.

Somewhere in future.

.......

Me And My Bookmarks

I love bookmarks just like any other bibliophile. But my attempts at using them always go to waste.

This is hilarious because I even make bookmarks.

Last summer, I made a ton of bookmarks because school was over and all of us friends were splitting up. So I wanted to gift everyone and bookmarks were included in those gifts.

Following are some of the reasons I do not use bookmarks as often as I should, :

1. I never find my bookmarks in the first place, whenever I am reading. And being impatient, I start reading after 5 seconds.

2. If I am lucky enough to find them, when I finish reading, I always forget them to actually put the bookmark in the book.

3. If I end up doing that, than whenever I restart the reading process, I will put the bookmark down because it keeps irritating me. And than I forget about it.

4. My brain tells me that the time it takes to use the bookmark, I can spend that on reading the book and end up doing that.

5. Also I end up gifting a majority of my bookmarks because I am like, I am not going to use them.

Despite all this I have a few favourites which are honoured despite my laziness.

One of the bookmarks I use a lot is a card out of playing cards.

And I might be slightly obsessed with skulls.

P.S. I had a group called 'Cursed Souls" in 7th grade. And to me, its the coolest thing to this date.

...SAP...

Letters To The Moon # 2

May 18, 2014

Dear Moon,

I was coming back after having an amazing weekend and all along the car ride, my eyes were searching for you. But in vain, I counted six stars but not a single moon. 

I am turning 19 and getting married in exactly three days.

That is huge. And I know it. 

I am nervous. But not over the top nervous. 

The one thing that scares me are the expectations people have of me and with me. And the assumptions everyone seems to make.

I do not care about what people think of me. But people I love, care about what others think. And my love for these people makes me care about people's expectations. Its like they have already decided that I am going to fall off the ladder. And instead of holding the ladder, everyone is just watching and waiting for me to fall.

But I will not fall. I am not that weak. And you know it. I mean, you are a rock yourself. 

I do not know what is going to happen. My life is going to change, that is a given. But one thing I am going to do is make sure that my foremost success is happiness. 

My happiness and the people I love and care about, their happiness.

The rest will follow. 

In time, I plan to accomplish everything I have dreamt of and planned for. 

But you know what, I am still a little scared. 

What do you think ? Do you think I will be able to do it all ? Do you think that life will give me a chance ? Or I will have to snatch it from life itself. Do you think that my optimism will be my doom ? Do you think that I will fall of the ladder ? 

I leave you with that question.

Adieu !

S

.....

What A Glamour

The first visit to a hospital that I remember is when my mom got admitted for her asthma attacks. My Mamu came to Lahore from Waah Cant and we went to see Amma.

The hospital was spic and span, white tiles mopped so that they shone like the soles of Italian Leather shoes, walls covered with a beautiful Sea Green wallpaper, her room had a twin bed for visitors, attached bathroom, mini fridge stocked with Chocolates and drinks, and a fully functional TV with a box of DVDs with it. 

She was in there for a week or so. While she was sick and we in the hospital for long periods of time, after we getting bored of the room, we took to the outside hallways. That started the skidding races, driving our remote control cars in all the nook and crannies of that floor and emptying the Mini Fridge. 

The second time I remember was when my youngest brother was born. The location this time was KSA. A different country. A different city. Yet the hospital was spectacular. 

Its appearance made you forget that people died there.

Today, I went to another hospital. And I saw the most striking paintings ever. 

Just look at how awesome this painting is. 

You would never know the pain and diseases people suffer and come here to get better from. 

In Bloodlines by Richelle Mead, there is a thing called "Glamour". Its this idea that everything related with Vampires and magic is over shadowed or concealed so that when an ordinary human looks at that thing, the glamour will appear to be something good rather than the real that it is. 

And I thought, what a "Glamour" these hospitals put up. That you forget what you were doing there.

For a moment you don't remember that you were going to sleep hungry, your gum bleeding in school, missing Soccer tryouts and fighting with an elder kid in school.

What your memory recalls is watching a complete season of Full House and ordering Pizza four nights in a row.

But that is all it is. Glamour.

You go back to getting stitches or figuring out how to pay the hospital bills.

......

Letters To The Moon # 1

Photo by Saleha Jamil.

Dear Moon,

You and I have a very strange relationship. You are the only thing that has entranced me every time I look upon it.

Yesterday, I was hanging clothes outside, on the wash line and I saw you. You were gleaming like morning dew on a freshly blossomed Rose.

The stars aligned themselves in a way so that when you come out, you are the only one shining. And they are just Mustard in a Hot Dog, helping you look your best.

I don't think you need that.

You are perfect the way you are. Because you like me have a story. Those marks, craters, dents and blemishes you bear are the signs of your tale.

I look at you and wonder how you can be so beautiful despite bearing so many marks. Its like you have been hand painted to look wounded yet pretty as a new bride.

You are like a victory mark for people like us. Ordinary people.

We have reached you.

Put a foot on you.

And now we have achieved something. Something that defines us to our generations. Our greatness. Our accomplishments.

What do you think ? Do you agree ? Do you want to be a part of that victory ? Or do you want to be left alone ? Do you ever wonder why someone did not ask you ? Why someone did not care about you ?

Do you ever feel like you have to fulfill expectations ? What if someone does not think that you are as worthy as you yourself think ? Or someone thinks that you are useless ?

I think that you are just a pawn in our game. The game that we win. And the people around us clap. They cheer on us. They look at you with contempt. Because everyone wants to see who lost to us.

So in a way, you are not that different from me.

Yours sincerely,

SAP

......

The Creative Me # Painting An Aztec Eiffel Tower

Keeping up with my new goal of updating this blog. I am going to start another new project called, "The Creative Me". Now, I am not an artist but from time to time, my creative side likes to peak out and show itself. And those rare moments find themselves captured in different things, like an idea or a sketch.

I love doing different things. And I love originality. Even if something has been done over and over and I love it, I tend to think of a different way to execute it.

I have incorporated Tribal or Aztec print in the tower because its crazy trendy right now and I absolutely love it.

I have been wanting to paint an Eiffel Tower in my room for quiet some time now. But it got delayed for one thing or another. I finally finished it. And the best part is that I managed to take pictures during the process.

The only reason I was able to do that was because it took me a week to finish painting it.

Its really easy. It takes you about five hours from sketching to painting the tower.

But if you are lazy like me or have irritating guests staying over, it might take you longer.

The sketching part which was way easier than I had thought.

A much clear shot of the pencil sketch. 

At this point, I was sure that I had ruined the wall. Because it looked so bad.

A little better but I was still skeptical.

Now it had started to come around and look like an Eiffel Tower.

Chevron is my 4th or 5th love. 

A table was needed because I am only 5'4. I came this close to falling off the table at least thrice.

Tada !!!!! The magical tower with its full glory. Without the top, it looks like a king without a crown.

Here you go ! This is what I call beauty. I was going to cry.

One of the things, I suck at, taking pictures. Need a professional photographer in my life !

By this point, I had cleaned my room, hence a much presentable state of my room.

Me, trying to act like a photographer and one picture did turn out alright. So proud ! 

....SAP....

Shedding Some Light # 2 Bitten By A Sibling

One minute you are yelling at your sibling to keep his nose out of your business and the next, you are sitting on his bed, hoping that he will share his stash of chips with you. From sharing a room, you go on to share secrets. The fights about breaking crayons turn into arguing over who ate whose slice of Pizza.

When I was about 7 or 8 years old, me and my younger brother never saw eye to eye. Me trying to be the big bossy sister, him proving that he was the eldest of us all despite being the youngest.

One day, we were going upstairs to give a message to our Taya (Dad's brother), and we were arguing over some petty thing. We reached the top and were standing in the balcony, finishing our argument. Neither of us was backing down, being the strong headed kids we always have been.

All of a sudden, he bit me. With bare, pointy teeth and all.

It was on my right arm. No the left one. I don't remember.

Anyway, so he bites me and I am still standing there, gaping at him, not sure of what just happened.

I look at my arm and I can see the flesh. Its pink, red and all glossy. And its horrifying.

I don't remember the next half an hour of frenzy where my brother is explaining it to Amma, and she is trying not to overreact. Otherwise instead of one, there would be two kids going to the hospital.

So somehow, me, Amma and my Grandma end up at the hospital. The doctor comes in, takes a look and asks,

"Was she bitten by a dog ?"

"No, by her brother ", my mom sheepishly replied.

The doctor went all ooohhh on us.

I ended up getting an injection and enjoying the attention showered upon me, which lasted for a millisecond.

When we came home and told this incident to our family, one of my cousins said,

"Kutta katta hai tu 14 teekay lagtay hai, bhai nay kata hai, ab tu 40 lagay gain."

"When a dog bites, you get 14 shots. Your brother  bit you, now you are definitely getting 40 shots."

Now that same brother knows me so well that he can tell you what my favourite food was in 6th grade. Or what colour skates I wore.

Siblings share not only a blood but a life together. So whether you need a ride or Doritos at midnight, you have the right to make them do it.

That is the fun of having a sibling. Instead of being one.

....SAP....