mAn's pOv

What is Tukh Malanga?

2011-07-15T12:51:00.000+05:00

Summer is here (at least in South East Asia) and the mercury is rising all too rapidly. Everyday I check the latest weather update to see whether the temperature has finally risen to the 40+ °C that is the norm here in Karachi during the summer months. The high humidity levels make sure that every citizen has a short temper and an even shorter tolerance level for bullshit. Well it can't be THAT bad can it? Well it actually can as although some of us are lucky with the fixed 3 to 4 hour (sometimes only 2 hours a day) load shedding per day in Karachi; our brethren in the other provinces have to make do with more than 7 hour (8 or 10+ at one point) load shedding schedules. It is especially intolerable when a heat wave strikes accompanied by dry scorching winds.

It is at this hellish period of the year that we South Asians break out my two of my favourite 'heat beating' drinks the Lassi (Yogurt-based drink originated from Punjab) and Tukh Malanga/Tukham Malanga. Now Tukh Malanga is not actually a drink but is used in preparing many drinks as it is highly valued for its cooling and tonic properties. Tukh Malanga is also known by its second Urdu name as Naz Boo and are the seeds of the sweet basil or basilicum ocimum if you want the proper name. Commonly used in the Indian Subcontinent for preparing drinks it is also used in other parts of Asia for other or similar purposes.

I just can't get enough Tukh Malanga these days and usually skip a meal after having a glass or two of the drink. I will show how to make a simple version of the drink and for that you will need:

1 tablespoon Tukh Malanga (quantity according to your taste)

Milk (low-fat or whole)

Rooh Afsa (can be substituted with Jam-e-Shireen which is like Rooh Afza but sugar-free)

1 glass (or just drink the milk and swallow the ingredients lol)

2-3 Ice cubes

: No ice in this image, since it would melt in the heat

Ok first of all for readers(if by some stroke of luck my blog is being read by people not living in the Indian Subcontinent) not familiar with Rooh Afza, I would recommend them to check out the website of the 100+ year old drink (since 1907)........ ok so I cant seem to access the Indian and Pakistani website but the Bangladeshi website works which wont be of much use to people who don't know Bengali. So here is the wikipedia link (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rooh_Afza) and a blog post by a fellow country man (http://pakistaniat.com/2007/10/07/ramzan-ramadan-rooh-afza-milk-red-bull-pakistan/)

Foreign folks can buy Rooh Afza from the local Indian or Pakistani supermarket or online from here (http://www.ayurvedaforall.com/106/sharbat-rooh-afza.html)

: heavenly elixir

Right back to the topic on hand. So what you need to do is take a spoonful of Tukh Malanga and mix it with water in a glass. Immediately you will notice that it starts to develop a jelly like covering. The general rule of thumb is a half glass of water for 1 tablespoon of tukh malanga.

: A spoonful is more than enough

I would recommend filling the whole glass with water so that the tukh malanga can fully expand. If there is still some water left than you can use a spoon to scoop the extra water out or use a sieve . The fully expanded tukh malanga will look like this. If you notice some undeveloped seeds then don't worry as it happens and they are safe for you to drink as well.

I know it looks like frog eggs and that is what freaks out most people but not all stuff that is good for you looks tasty as well.

: They look kind of errr......

After that add two or three(or more according to your taste) tablespoons of Rooh Afza/Jam-e-Shireen..

: You can add more later if you think it needs more

Now just add some milk, stir vigorously and lastly 2 or 3 cubes of ice. And you have a refreshing beverage guaranteed to quench your thirst and satisfy you sweet tooth. Those of you who have never tried Rooh Afza with milk and Tukh Malanga should definitely give it a go; it is like nothing you have EVER tasted before.

: It is sooo refreshing after a tiring day at the office

I myself love drinking it so much that I prepare mine in this behemoth of a glass..

: 2 to 3 normal glass(es) of water = 1 behemoth glass of water

So give it a try and comment on whether you liked it or not. For those of you who are new here, check out my earlier posts as well.

(Rooh Afza pic courtesy of FLICKR, click on photo for original link)

Dehydrated and on the verge of Heat Stroke I see things that I cannot unsee

2011-07-15T12:19:00.000+05:00

It is Hot and Humid in our fair city of Karachi. And when the mercury rises; like clockwork KESC begins its annual “Screw with the citizens” games. The object of these games if not absurdly obvious is to make the citizens of Karachi go crazy with heat…………… Not the animatistic heat OBVIOUSLY! But see it works cause right now I am sitting in my office with no electricity and it is stifling in here leaving me irked and irritated. We do have a generator but it is old enough to retire and barely manages to handle the load of two computers running at the same time let alone powering a fan at speeds capable of providing comfort. The games have kicked off and KESC is well on its way to win. The rules state that if they manage to irk the people without having any property of theirs burnt down or trashed by the people then they win. I am due at the Custom house in 15 mins so ill finish this post when I get back InshAllah.

*1 hour and 40 mins later*

: PACCS- Stale air, Sweating men and smoke

My mood has considerably improved at the moment as I have just returned from a trip to the Custom house. Time away from the stifling conditions of my office did me good. I am not saying that the heat conditions there were better, they are almost always worse. See when you factor in a corridor full of men sitting/standing in wait for their turn while smoking or chewing paan/gutka or doing both at the same time WITH the stifling stale air (which is the norm) then you have to struggle to find something to amuse yourself with while blocking out the appalling conditions. Usually I bring my iPod Touch along and play a game or two on it to pass the time. This time the wait for my first hearing was very short and before I knew it I was sitting in an air-conditioned room and loving every minute of it. While arguing the 'custom official' did one of the things I abhor greatly. Can you guess what? Go on. Ok ok ill tell you. He began picking his nose...... his nose!! (rhinotillexomania is the official term I believe) I kid you not and if you are surprised then consider yourself blessed that people you regularly see don't show you their 'excavating' skills and 'finds'. What do people who pick their noses in front of people expect to find in there!? Gold? Diamonds? If that were the case then people would always have a finger in their nostril hoping to 'pick' a nugget of gold. In fact that is what I expected the official to do.

Me: "So sir as you can clearly see, this consignment should be valued on the basis of LME prices."

Official (while picking his nose): "Hmmm go on."

Me: "Err actually that is it. Shou-"

Official (looking at what he 'picked'): "GOLD!!!"

Me (wide-eyed): "What?! Where?"

Official (showing me the small piece of metal): "SEE! HERE! FROM MY VERY OWN NOSE!!!!"

Me: "..........................................................................THATS MINE!!!!"

I would have won the ensuing fight easily enough. But seriously back to business. When you talk to people DO NOT PICK YOUR NOSE! I have seen people do that while driving too. I mean if you are not allowed to drive while using a cellphone on the basis that it makes it hard to concentrate then so does picking your nose! Oh and just to be clear it's not only men. Yes, I have had the misfortune of seeing women pick as well. Children I don't mind cuz come on they be kids. But adults are a different story. Some people go soo deep that I can feel the bile rise up in my throat before my fascination takes over. I mean that's half a finger in their nose!...... now its all in!!! Must have an itch on his frontal lobe, could happen to anyone I am sure .

I come out of the hearing and head towards my second one when I find out that the official is 'not in' at the moment. Fine ill wait. While waiting I observed another habit that I dont mind so much as it leads to some great wisecracks but I bet women do. The guy in front of me was talking to another and periodically he would grab(scratch) his crotch........ Oh COME ON! All men do it and women should get used to it by now. Its natural ok but one should be careful not to do it whilst engaging someone in conversation. If both men are doing it then I would probably assume they are gay. Maybe IT IS a signal for gay men. Like one scratches his crotch and if the other is gay as well then he does the same. Hmmm maybe next time if someone I suspect to be gay scratches his crotch in front of me; I should do the opposite like grab my butt?..... or maybe say out loud how I love women?

I have asked some people, female mostly and that too wayyy back like 4 or 5 years, whom I knew about their view on the subject and got some interesting feedback.

The best one was:

Girl: "You men just check to see if it's there."

Me: "Are you insane!! Where would it go?!"

Girl: "I dunno. France maybe."

Me: "Oh ha ha ha very funny you git!"

My attention was diverted from the crotch display (to another one) by a group of three men standing near me who were playfully teasing an old man who I think they knew very well. They were all Punjabi like yours truly so I understood everything and what happened next had me laughing out very hard. One of the men had remarked that since the old guy's hair and beard was so white, his brain must be too. That resulted in some very funny Punjabi profanities after which the same man remarked that the same case might be applicable for the old guy's genitals. Oh that riled the old guy pretty well and he proceeded to take of his pants just to 'show' the men that they are wrong indeed. Thankfully I could not see anything on account of tearing up from laughing so hard but man was that unexpected.

Story of my life. Doomed to see people picking their nose and grabbing their junk where ever I look. Although that might be because I go into observation mode too much. Anyway if any of the aforementioned incidents or rants disgusted any of my readers then I hide behind my rock solid excuse of 'I am a victim of screw with the citizens' hence free of blame.

: If you look closely you can see my arm reflected in her eyes.

My sour mood continued till I got home and only improved on seeing the most beautiful baby girl(sister) I know smile at me when I entered through the door. I don't have a picture of her smiling but here is one where she is sitting on the trunk of a car looking up at my arm while I stretch it.

In closing I would like to ask the readers to take a min and participate in the poll below please.

[polldaddy poll=3164280]

A Pakistani horror comedy

2011-07-15T12:14:00.001+05:00

It was a quiet night with no light!

It all starts when news channels start reporting that a new fatal and extremely contagious disease has been spreading throughout a local ‘kachi abaadi‘ in Karachi. Our balding interior minister is quick to issue a statement that it is nothing but an outbreak of chicken pox so no need for all the drama. No reason is given for the complete quarantine of the area in mere hours, people are worried and the relatives of the people who are quarantined start protesting outside the Karachi press club. Geo goes crazy overboard like it usually does and starts interviewing people who 'passed through the area before the quarantine hit' and showing old videoclips of the area. The cellular service provider Ufone comes out with a witty advert proclaiming “Now with Ufone you can call your loved ones in the quarantine district! Just dial 969 to activate your quarantine access package. Ufone woh bhi tau hain!!” Within hours the other cellular service providers follow suit and soon news breaks out(blame Zong!! “Sab keh do/Say it all”) that the disease is not chicken pox!

It is chicken pox for sure and I have arrested all poultry farm owners for questioning!

Shiny new jammers can be seen behind the shiny head of the interior minister who along with the city nazim is holding a press conference outside the ‘red zone‘ (the quarantine walls already have 'Jeay Altaf bhai!' graffiti on them) as it is now known. “Jammers had to be installed as there were chances that the disease might spread via calls made to infected individuals. Also let me assure you that we had good reason to believe that the disease was chicken pox but now with new evidence our scientists have found out that it is actually a new form of dengue and looks like something out of star wars.” Details trickle in that the disease is caused by mutated mosquitoes emerging from the polluted dumping grounds of factories in the city. They are dubbed “Z-flies” and renamed “Zardari flies” by the angry public which in turn causes a city-wide race to eradicate them just so one can boast that he “killed a blood sucking Zardari!”

Disaster strikes when the power goes out to the whole quarantined district despite promises made by KESC that “there will be no load-shedding in the ‘red zone'...........unless PSO stops providing us furnace oil". The night is punctuated with gunshots and screams till the electricity comes back after an hour......or so. The scene is horrific with body parts and blood ‘decorating’ the area. Figures are seen shambling out of the ‘red zone‘ while some are already gorging themselves on the maimed police force. Hearing the gunshots and screaming stop, the ever curious karachiites of that locale quickly congregate outside the ‘red zone‘. Seeing the horrific scene in front of them, the people panic and in the resulting stampede many who were taking pictures and videos of the scene on their cameraphones are trampled to death.

We got here as fast as we could.

By morning curfew was imposed on the city and the army arrived in the city but only to find the red zone empty and burning. They were told that the first sign of infection is that a person will be bleeding from the mouth and that the 'infected' are to be shot on sight and after which the army promptly ended up shooting and killing innocent civilians eating paan(shame on you if you don’t get the joke here). The Govt finally explains to the public that the disease is actually believed to be causing people to die within minutes of infection and reanimate with cannibalistic tendencies. The infected retain some basic speech and cognitive function but that too on a diminutive scale. The cause is not the “Z-flies” but actually…………… wait for it……………… Zombie Benazir!! See one day she woke up, broke out of her grave and proceeded to turn the whole town into her slaves. No one noticed because well…….. no one gives a crap about small towns! After that she hid in the back of a truck heading for Karachi and well you know how it turned out. Turns out she wants revenge on the ‘person’ *wink wink* *nod nod* who had her killed. The current press release has stated that the president is over joyed at his wife’s return and will hasten to help her catch the culprits as soon as he is discharged from the hospital after recovering from his heart attack (he had when he learned about her return). Doctors have strictly forbidden travelling abroad in this condition for the President.

He learns about her return.

Now since this is a Pakistani horror comedy there is bound to be a corny dance sequence or two(since I hate them all together so only one!). Dance sequence start! PPP party supporters begin to gather in support of Zombie Benazir much to the dismay of the army. When suddenly ‘Zombie BB’ shows up carried by her undead slaves, the army tells the gathered mob to “Go to hell!” before high tailing it back to HQ. As the people start chanting the slogan “Roti, Kapra Makaan!/Bread, Clothes and Homes!” ; Undead BB starts changing the people and the chant changes to “Blood, Meat and Brains!” The zombie army proceeds towards the hospital where Zardari is recuperating, leaving devastation in their wake. Many of the citizens of Karachi are staying indoors so casualties are limited. Politicians are quick to denounce the President during the worst crisis to hit Pakistan since the recent loss at the world cup final. The talk shows start discussing this new development. Dance sequence finish!

The big dance conversion scene.

When zombie BB woke up she proceeded to turn the whole city of larkana into her zombie slaves and before hopping on the back of a truck she instructed them to follow her to karachi. The Zombie army has by now entered Karachi and has dwindled in numbers from the frequent Truck ‘hit and runs’ on the highway. The few that are left shamble towards Dead BB. In the final showdown Zardari is on the roof of the now deserted hospital with a few loyal soldiers armed to the teeth. After a bitter and slow (stunted speech capacity remember) tirade between husband and zombie wife which included but was not limited to references of sexual inadequacy and ugly facial hair, the zombies (numbering in the thousands) started their shambling assault of the hospital. The president by now was scared silly and kept asking where the helicopter was!? Turns out that since all the petrol stations are closed, the helicopter could not be refueled (plus today was sunday so the pilot was on holiday). The soldiers had planted C4 explosive charges all throughout the hospital to cave in the passage ways and hopefully a floor or two to stop the zombies from reaching them. Here is how it all played out….

Soldier 1: “Sir, bum tayar hain. /Sir, the bombs are armed and ready.”

Zardari : “Shakal kya dekh rahe ho? Maro BB ko!/What are you looking at my face for? Kill BB!”

Soldier 1: “Yes sir! Sab peche ho jao! Ek Do Teen Char Panch…/Yes sir! Everyone stand back! One two three four five…”

Zardari : “Pagal!!, time nahin hai!! Bum phar!!/You Idiot!!, time is running out!! Blow the bomb!!”

Soldier 1: “…FIRE!!”

………………………………………………………………………….

Zardari : “Phata kyun nahi?/Why didnt it explode?”

Soldier 2: “Sir, light chali gai!!/Sir, the power just went.”

………………………………………………………………………..

Zardari and all the soldiers : “#&@%!!!!!!!!! KESC KI M…/#&@%!!!!!!!!! KESC THOSE M…”

It is at the fateful moment that Zombie BB and her minions break down the door and start massacring everyone(the onslaught is so sudden that the soldiers are not able to defend themselves) save Zardari whom Zombie BB herself took the pleasure of ripping apart. Zombie BB turns around with a gory grin and screams out aloud “Devouring him was the BEST revenge!!” (Corny as hell but its a Pakistani movie sooooo yeah)

After Avenging her death Zombie BB starts shambling off into the sunset(or sunrise) with her minions in the general direction of the MQM headquarters! The last scene shown is Imran Khan(I BELIEVE IN HIM!!) arming himself and getting ready to go and finish the Zombie plague once and for all.

PTI - They fight evil whenever they can.

ROLL CREDITS!

Well I hope you liked it and while this movie wont certainly win any awards; it would be a cult hit!

My quest to kiss the Al-Hajar-ul-Aswad (Black Stone)

2011-07-15T08:43:00.003+05:00

In the Summer of 2009 my whole family decided to go for Umra after the traumatic death of my brother. So off we were to the land of the Arab's, where the truth was revealed, where the heart of every believer yearns to go, the place where Adam (AS) made the first house of worship. Yes, I mean Makkah/Bakkah/Makka/Mecca and we were all as giddy as teenage girls (some of my cousins were actually teenage girls but that's besides the point) when our plane took off. An eventful journey it was especially the part where after hurriedly changing into our Ihram, all of us started feeling the breeze exceptionally well near our privates and that brought on a fit of uncontrollable laughter among all of us young men. One another amusing event of the trip was my cousin Muneeb wearing his mother's glittery sandals. See he had neglected to read and prepare for the pilgrimage so he had no idea about the type of footwear one must wear. So when he noticed all of us taking out our flip-flops, he knew he was in trouble. But what are moms for if not giving their sons their footwear when they forget theirs. All throughout the plane journey to Jeddah he was the butt of our jokes. The cream on the cake was the part where after entering the Jeddah airport, an airport official notices Muneeb's glittery sandals and asks to see his papers (visa,passport).

Anyway let me skip forward to the part where most of us had realized that kissing the Black Stone is not going to be as easy as we thought.

It was a few hours before Fajr when I first laid my eyes and the Holy Kaaba and made my first dua. The first thing I noticed was that its BIG!!! The second was of course the expected emotional impact followed by my awe at the size of the crowd. The crowds, I later found out, while pale in comparison to the Hajj and Ramadhan crowds still looked huge to me. During my stay whenever I was performing tawaf I would look towards the black stone and become dismayed at the sight of sooooo many people trying to kiss it. There is a Hadith which I had read in preparation for my Umra and that made my resolve to kiss the black stone even more stronger.

It was narrated that Ibn ‘Abbaas said: The Messenger of Allaah (peace and blessings of Allaah be upon him) said concerning the Stone: “By Allaah, Allaah will bring it forth on the Day of Resurrection, and it will have two eyes with which it will see and a tongue with which it will speak, and it will testify in favour of those who touched it in sincerity.”

Narrated by al-Tirmidhi, 961; Ibn Maajah, 2944

But there was the problem of pushing and shoving.

http://www.islam-qa.com/en/ref/1902/black%20stone

"It is not permissible for a Muslim to annoy other Muslims at the Stone by hitting or fighting. The Prophet (peace and blessings of Allaah be upon him) told us that the Stone will testify in favour of those who touched it in sincerity, which is not the case when a person touches it by disturbing the slaves of Allaah."

That was a real bummer for me as I saw no way to go about it then. Halfway through our trip, after our 4 to 5 day stay in the city of our beloved Muhammad (SAW), I had started to notice that the crowd was noticeably less from Zuhr to Asr or till Maghrib sometimes. Still the pushing and shoving bit was a problem again. A good friend of mine who happened to be in Makkah at the same time informed me that he had indeed kissed the black stone but had to do it with a bit of shoving and pushing. He advised me to go for it but truth be told, I did not want to try it when I know I would cause discomfort to my Muslim Brothers in the process.

: Before or near Isha prayers

: After or before Asr Prayers

My elder brother Obaid told me that he saw a woman emerging one body part at a time after kissing or touching the black stone. When the arm until the elbow came out he stopped to watch only to see the head emerge O_O followed by the bosom then the torso till she had to pull her leg out from the crowd. Kind of like birth except it wasnt that wet or maybe it was as it was pretty hot. Anyway later someone else from our group also narrated seeing a man walking around with a few broken nose or bleeding lip (I cant remember) which he was certain was the result of the black stone push and shove. Man it looked impossible for me now!!!! But nevertheless I made my Niyaat (Intention) to do so and asked the Almighty for his help.

One day after Asr prayers I was relaxing in my room,with my brothers and male cousins, when my younger brother showed up and informed all of us that he had managed to touch the Black stone and that it is was very hard. Now that was almost as good as kissing it and listening to him recount his luck; my heart started hammering in my chest. I felt that if I left now I could kiss it, that I might get my chance. So I left for the Masjid-ul-Haraam and reached it about an hour before Maghrib prayers. The crowd was a little thinner then the picture above so after my first round, of the seven for tawaf, I got in line to kiss the stone. Now I had left my mobile and cash at the hotel so I was not worried of losing them. My friend had lost his mobile while attempting to kiss the Black Stone, dunno whether it fell out or someone picked his pocket (Fitnah is everywhere, one of the signs of approaching Day of Reckoning) hence my precautionary measures.

I will not kid you that although it was a trying experience, I still loved every second of it. I had to attempt it without getting angry or pushing and shoving. My first go at it was not successful because of a................ Pakistani. Yes, a Memon in fact but I bear him no ill will. See let me tell you how the whole method was :

There are two lines on the mens side starting from the Yemeni corner or halfway from the corner and stone. While the line from the women is very short and starts from the door of the Kaaba. There is another line which starts between the two proper lines like a wedge and that causes the problem. If people could just get in the proper line then I am positive it would be a lot easier.

It is especially problematic for the women to kiss the stone as they are squashed on all three sides by non-mahram men packed tighter than sardines.

http://www.islam-qa.com/en/ref/21644/black%20stone

"If it can only be done by crowding and disturbing others, then it should not be done; in that case it is sufficient to point to it with one's hand, especially for women, because the woman is ‘awrah and because crowding is not prescribed for men, so that applies even more so to women. If it is easy for a woman to kiss the Black Stone without crowding, it is not permissible for her to uncover her face when doing so, because there are men who are not her mahrams in that place." Fataawa al-Lajnah al-Daa’imah, 11/22

Anyway the first time I was pushed out and instead of getting angry I decided to try again on my second round. This time I stuck close to the kaaba and started chatting with a few of the people. Surprisingly there were a few Pakistanis in line so I chatted away while the line moved forward. Now I thought with my physique I should be safe from the squashing but I was damn wrong. There were men taller and more powerfully built then moi and only my quick thinking helped me here. I saw a fairly huge individual in the wedging line looking at me and giving him a one over I decided it would be in my advantage if I let him get in line in front of me. One thing I did not take into account was that he would end up letting someone else in line in front of him leaving me two spaces behind where I originally was. It was a man with a woman (wife or sister), he had his arms around her and was furiously protecting her from the tide of men flowing here and there. Well now I had something interesting to watch as well ;) .

While standing in line I along with many people were leaning on the wall of the Kaaba with our left hands as the marble near the bottom kind of sloped out from the base of the kaaba. So standing there was kind of tasking especially with the wicked heat. While the push and shove got a little too much the person infront of me started chanting ALLAH HO AKBAR. We all started following him "ALLAH HO AKBARRR GAHHHHH" till we were so squashed that I thought my ribs would crack. The guy in front of was still chanting but his chant was "ALLAH HO AJBAR" and hearing that I started giggling. I think that was probably the cause of the heat and intense pressure leading to air deprivation in short amounts but maybe it was funny I dunno. The guy was from Turkey me thinks as only they say the takbeer like that I hear.

The guy with the woman managed to get her the chance to kiss the stone and go. While the huge guy in front of me had a problem. See he and this other guy were both trying to kiss the stone at the same time, both were pushing the other one with their heads while puckering up and making kissing noises...... or maybe imagined the kissing noises bit. One of them must have succeeded because before I knew it they were gone leaving a huge vacuüm in their wake............ CHANCE!!!!!! I grabbed the top of the steel frame and pulled myself towards it, I kissed it(it had three small dots in it which i later found out are actually pinning the stone to the base. It broke in the past so check Wikipedia if you want more info) and quickly turned around to make my exit before the Shurta standing above me could tell me to hurry up. It was an unbelievable sight, men and women on all sides all were looking at me as if I was naked of something. I had never been the center of such attention before (lol) but seriously the main issue here was getting out without causing anyone discomfort. I looked frantically around and must have been there for a min when someone grabbed my shoulder and yanked me out of the throng. Guess he must have thought I was hogging the black stone but still I was out!

Standing outside the throng I realised that i still had to complete 5 more rounds and the obligatory prayers behind the Makaam-e-Ibrahim. So I started walking and what a sight I was with my tousled hair(wait....i had no hair since i had shaved it after umra) and clothes and my temporary limp. Nevertheless with people looking at me while I completed the tawaf, the one thing in my mind was that I had done it! I kissed the black stone!!!!! And without pushing or shoving anyone proving that it still can be done!

Later as I sat down to wait for the start of Maghrib prayers, after completing the tawaf and its requirements, I accepted a bag of dates from a fellow brother and finally relaxed and smiled once again.

Plead already will ya!!!

2011-07-15T07:35:00.000+05:00

Another sweltering day in the bustling concrete jungle began with me trying my utmost to tame my beard and contemplating whether wearing jeans instead of dress pants to a hearing at the FTO office would be alright. I went with the jeans (chalk it up to my irritation at the rising mercury levels) and cut off the few ambitious strands of my beard hair(rebels) that insist on growing in unacceptable directions compared to the rest.

After a harrowing ride to the 14th floor in the ,way past its prime, elevator (thuds and groans aplenty) ; I (along with dad and elder bro) had to sit through a 3 hour hearing (8 cases back to back) that left me at my wit's end. To calm myself I observed the defendant (Custom Official) plead his case and routinely being reprimanded by the judge. I continued in my observation of the other defendants that came,pleaded and went; It was funny seeing the different styles each employed when pleading his case. I have noticed many styles since I started working and it always amuses me to guess which style a particular person whom I meet for the first time at a hearing will use. I'll list the different types ive had the pleasure and displeasure to sit through.

1. Grovelling plea

If you havent guessed this one already; It's the one where the guy always goes "Lordship, if you will give me permission to humbly plead my case before your good self; using my poor knowledge." I often look in the direction of the Judge to see whether he rolls his eyes in exasperation at these kind of pleas. It would make my day if the Judge flips and informs the employer of the 'grovelling plea' to just get on with it and cut the crap. It sounds like the guy is suffering from massive low self-esteem half of the time. I myself am tempted to give the 'grovelling plea' a try just to 1up everyone else; I would start like so "Honourable learned authority, if it may please your good self to let this poor consultant plead his wretched case so that you might serve justice by the powers you have been deemed worthy to exercise , when you see that this poor soul has been wronged." Hmmm I may have gone a tad overboard (ya think!!) as it sounds more like the Judge is Darth Vader but my particular plea would accomplish two things.

i. Ignite a roaring flame of envy in the heart of the 'grovelling plea' user.

ii. Succeed in getting the Judge to roll his eyes so hard that they probably would get stuck in his head.

So you see it's a win-win!!

2. The mother tongue reverted plea

Now I don't usually argue in english and I don't mind it if the 'other side' argues in English or Urdu or a mixture of both but I just hate it when to get his point across he cracks a joke in Punjabi/Pushto/Sindhi/etc. I feel like an ass sitting there while the Judge and he have a hearty chuckle. I can't even turn the tables and crack a joke in Punjabi as I don't know how to speak it; I am only adept at english and I am pretty sure the Judge wont get the joke. The only thing I can do is speak difficult english but that only results in me explaining what I just said in simpler terms to the defendant sometimes.

3. The angry/impatient plea

This guy comes prepared and sits on the edge of his seat during the whole hearing. Sometimes he scares both the judge and me with his tirades about justice......................ok no he doesn't actually cause even he knows you can't disrespect the judge(unless he is an ass). Nevertheless he gets all jumpy when I start pleading my case as if every word out of my mouth is a preposterous lie. His interruptions always end up with the Judge telling him to wait for his turn (abhi meri baari hai!!!). He deflates easily when a hole in his case is found and rapidly exploited after which I sometimes end up pitying the guy. I mean he was so full of life when he came in but now it looks like he just french kissed a dementor (harry potter reference......dont judge me!!!).

4. The unprepared plea

This one just pisses me off as the Judge always gives him till the next hearing to prepare the case without explaining to him in a very profanity filled sentence why he should not waste the court's time. Now this goes down in one of two ways; either he admits outright that he doesn't know squat about the case and would want some time (usually ends up employing the 'grovelling plea') or bumbles through the hearing like an annoying git till the Judge tells him to just shut up and gives him till the next hearing to get his shit together.

5. Calm plea

This is our type of plea as mashAllah our cases are almost always solid. So we just plead our case and listen intently without interrupting to the 'other side' pleading his case. But there are other people who also employ this kind of plea and like us they just sit back with a smile on their face till the Judge inquires if there is anything they would want to say at all. When both the sides use the calm plea then that gets professional but dull and occasionally if not all the time, when my father is arguing the case, I end up with a vacant expression or watch the fly as it tries to land on the Judge's shiny head........damn thats shiny(I wonder if he waxes it).

6. English plea

No not the country English; I meant the language. This guy is the best as his vocabulary is decent but his pronunciation atrocious. I get through the case without snickering by biting my tongue or pinching myself every few minutes. It's damn hard when he gets stuck on one word as either the Judge or I corner him. "That the that th that that sir that is that th" -_- yes, 'that is that the that' indeed sir!

That is all of them I think. Now if you will excuse me; I have to go read the newspaper and see what the clowns are up to in the Government.

I fixed the Goddamned tea!

2011-07-15T07:24:00.002+05:00

There comes a time in every tea haters life where he must ingest the dreaded substance and in due time become an addict. Tea addiction has tell-tale signs some of which are as follows :

-Yellow teeth.

-Headaches when tea consumption has not reached satisfactory levels which can even lead to lethargy.

-The loss of ability to refuse tea EVER!!!

-Development of an internal tea-time clock which like the name implies grants the ability to the person of judging, that tea should have been served 5 minutes ago!!

-The development of extra sensitive taste buds capable of sensing whether the tea is brewed to perfection or not.

This unfortunate conversion of a man's(yes, im being gender specific about this article because I don't know whether women go through this phase and if so how?) hatred for the brewed concoction can happen at either one of the following times of his life.

1. When he begins his working life.

When you start working (or your internship), you will see the peon (at selected points during the day) serving everyone tea. Now if you refuse the tea, you might induce astonished expressions in your workmates leading to the chai (tea) pro & con debate. Your colleagues might even tell you to have it just this once otherwise it will go to waste, or the peon might tell you to have it "pee lo yaar ab tau bana di" ("Drink it man now that ive made it"). You might still be served tea for which the peon might cite his forgetfulness as the culprit (It's a Lie!! They are trying to bring you over to their side).

People can argue that this is not true at all, that with a firm resolve one can hold his ground. Well yes, you can (here comes a big hairy...) BUT when you are stressed at work you will undoubtedly have a cup or two *gasp* to take away a bit of the stress (your boss stresses you out on purpose because he hates your white teeth!! They hurt his poor eyes. Stain them!!! STAIN THEM!!!!! *ahem* sorry about that :P ).

2. When he gets married.

What? WHAT???? Yes, this is what many people have told me. It happens when their newly beloved brings them a cup and they can't say "NO YOU RETARD!! I HATE TEA!!!!". See they think that their wife made it with love and it would be hurtful if they refused it, so they have it just this once. Then one morning they get up and ask for tea and realize that they are dead inside!!!!.....ok maybe that dead bit was too much lol.

Anyway I deviated a bit from my main topic which was me finally fixing the customs house tea!! I was brought over to the dark side or your side whichever, about a few months back and am rapidly losing my ability to say no to a cup of FILTHY CR....*ahem*I meant 'heaven in a cup'(sorry about that, the old me tries to fight back now and then). And I also gained the taste bud ability along with occasional occurences of headaches (OCCASIONAL mind you) so when I had my first cup of tea at the Custom's house, I almost spat it back out! Good lord! It tasted like boiled grass water! What was this? It was not green tea if that is what you are thinking. No! The vile mimicry of tea is by none other than

: Read boiled grass water

"LIPTON YELLOW LABEL TEA BAGS!!!!!!!!!" Maybe I should not have written that in all caps.......oh well, moving on.

The first time I had it, I must admit I thought of every single way I could get out of not having to drink it. Sadly nothing came to mind that would not seem rude so I did the only thing I could think off. I did the 'Mr Bean'! (google him if you don't know who he is). There is an episode where he orders a dish at a restaurant on his birthday only to find out that it is absolutely revolting. Then he goes about disposing it in a very ingenious (read hilarious) fashion, from stuffing bits in a lady's handbag to inside the flower vase. AND that is exactly what came to mind but alas fate was fickle as I was inside a small office with no lady's handbag nearby or a flower vase. Even a window would have sufficed as I was so desperate to not consume it that I would have chucked the whole damn cup when I got a chance regardless of the damage it would cause to the vehicles and people below. No, instead I did the best I could with what I had and with such stealth that I suprised even myself!

-First I waited till everyone had finished their cups (there were two people in the room excluding me), then I poured a bit of my tea in their empty cups.

-Secondly I poured a bit of tea in the sugar bowl (yes, I know its wrong but so was the TEA!!!)

- By now I was left with half so I took a bunch of tissues from the nearby tissue box and stealthly dipped them in the tea and disposed of them in the trash can near the door (basketball eh ;) ). When the peon came to take the tea away and saw the slightly yellow and wet sugar, I distracted him by giving him a compliment on his good tea brewing skills and made a polite inquiry about the damp yellow sugar that we had to make do with. Having done my best to shift the blame from my self, I made my excuse and left.

But I can't always have done that hence I had to either decline the offer of tea (how it hurt my poor tea starved soul) or drink it, whenever I came to the customs house. Since then I have always racked my brain to solve this problem and today finally came up with one. What if I changed the taste? That is BLASPHEMY sir!!! Yes yes but it's not tea so it should be ok right? Anyway I put 6 spoonfuls of powdered milk and two of sugar and Viola!! I had something that barely tasted like crap (boiled grass water) and more like a decent sweet milky drink.

I think it was the first time I really smiled while having a cup of tea at the customs house since I started working.

It was something to smile about though because you see, I had fixed the Goddamned tea!

Frantic Decisions & the start of Chemotherapy

2011-07-15T07:18:00.000+05:00

My memory is hazy at best about all of this, I can only remember bits and pieces so I asked my elder brother about what happened as well. Still this particular post is proving more difficult than I thought. Partly because I keep ending up with sentences without any flow to them and because I keep getting a bit depressed while writing this. I hope you forgive the inconsistencies in this post(if any) keeping in mind what I just told you. JazakAllah.

Acute T-cell Lymphoblastic Lymphoma was the killer on the loose inside my brother's body and we had to do something about it. He needed immediate chemotherapy and we were frantically trying to decide which hospital to choose. The choices were

-AKUH

-Shaukat Khaunum

-Treatment abroad.

We had a big family meeting (which included all my aunts and uncles in Karachi) one night and decided on Agha Khan. I remember some of us were very vocal about where we should go and I would have thought my brother would be at the top of that list but truth be told he wasnt. He informed all of that he had no qualms about our decision (we had not even decided then) and left it that.Why Agha Khan you ask? Well we took into account multiple factors and made our decision. The expenses we would have to incur would be a LOT but significantly less than we would have to incur if we went to Shaukat Khaunum or abroad. The rented apartment, the transport, food, EVERYTHING! Plus they(my brother and whoever went with him) would be alone there; away from family. No, staying in Karachi and getting him treated at AKUH seemed like a better option.

Another factor that had played a part in this decision was the meeting with the doctor who would be treating him. His name was Dr. Nehal Masood he was a consultant oncologist or hematologist, I can't recall exactly. Anyway he was very courteous and that went a little way in restoring my shaken faith in Pakistani doctors a bit. He did stress the importance of starting my brother's treatment asap if there was to be any hope. Fair enough, that got us working into overdrive as we informed our relatives and got my brother admitted into the hospital as fast as we could. During the first chemotherapy we took shifts with my mom taking the first, elder bro taking the next and yours truly taking the night shift, the shift system was actually a compromise as everyone wanted to be there for him. I cant exactly remember if he was admitted for more than a day or two as I am loath to ask my parents given their sudden onset of depression when the vaguest mention of that particular time pops up. Moving on, since I had to stay the night that meant I had to start preparing for the stay. I had watched too many medical tv series and that coupled with my over active imagination went a long way in freaking me out. I was convinced that I had to stay vigilant the entire night to monitor my brother and that meant having ample tools to stave off boredom and sleep. I took along with me a novel by the name of Airman by Eoin Colfer (author of the superb Artemis Fowl series) and my PSP with a movie stored in the memory card instead of games. I reached the hospital to find my relatives already there, they had come to visit my brother so while they all took their turns, I waited outside and asked my elder brother about the situation.

He told me that although we had requested a semi private room, since there was none available at the moment , we had to make do with the general ward for now. Then he told me to keep pestering our brother to drink lots of water as the chemo side effects would be slightly reduced because of it. And there was another reason I was being told to keep him hydrated, he was prone to night sweats, which is a symptom of cancer. As the name implies the person is prone to excessive bouts of perspiration during the night and only whilst slumbering. It is so bad that his clothes and bed would be completely soaked and he would have to change his clothes, my elder brother witnessed it during his shift and he was flabbergasted at the amount of sweat. "Looking at the sweat drip off his head ,when I woke him, in torrents him it felt like someone had overturned a bucket of water on him as his hospital gown and bed sheets were completely soaked as well!" were his words (not exact if that is what your thinking). *gulp* o..k.. "I had to wipe his face with a handful of tissues! A handful-" Ok I get it already! He sweats a lot! Man was I freaked, although I am one of those people you might find hard to read, at that moment I was a book wide open , my fears threatening to overcome what little calm I had imposed on my self. I said a prayer and went inside the ward..

By now the weather outside had turned very threatening and as soon as everyone had left, it started raining very heavily outside. Ah! Just my luck! The general ward has no A.C and with it pouring outside, it had become muggy inside, still I had much bigger things to worry about. They had started the chemo after excessive hydration (think they gave him glucose but I cant confirm it as it wasnt my shift then) and after some small talk with my brother I started with my habit of observing the people around me , while my bro started reading the book I had brought. I read the warning on the chemotherapy drip bag, stared at the other patients (I think there were a total of 6 in that ward including us) and....saw nothing interesting. My bro saw me fidgeting about, gave me the book to read and turned to his side and went off to sleep, with nothing interesting to do, I started reading. The night passed incredibly slow and the book although had grown increasingly interesting, was not enough in staving off boredom and sleep. It was the boredom which bothered me, as there was nowhere to sleep so sleeping was not even a possibility (although at one point I did consider swiping another chair to make it possible). I kept checking my brother to see if he hadn't developed a fever (they always develop fever during chemo!!! At least that's what they show on House M.D) and my fear always(Alhamdulilah) proved unwarranted. I remember wandering around the ward, chatting with the nurses(chatting NOT flirting!!), drinking a LOT of water.......no thats not right..Oh I meant making my brother drink LOTS of water, in contrast I had little so that I would not have to leave him to go to the toilet. Later they shifted us to the semi private ward and I finally relaxed in the air-conditioned room.....zzzzzzz....CRAP!! Just fell asleep there! No good, got to keep moving around. The night was pretty uneventful but I guess I should be extremely thankful for that, and come morning I left for home leaving my mom with my bro. My bro sang praises for me to my mom about my shift (It's the truth!!) and it is one of the memories that always leaves my teary eyed these days.

The first chemo was over, nothing happened and we took him home after he was discharged. I admit I did go overboard with trying to create a germ free enviroment for my bro. I suggested he make the drawing-room his temp room and gave him ample stuff to watch on his laptop to keep his mind off his fears, I had to get a wireless router so he could use the internet as well. I went out and bought surgical masks, gloves, a hand sanitizer and the wireless router before rushing to my ACCA classes. I hardly need to tell you that my concentration in those classes was next to nothing given the amount of tension I had. Still the first chemotherapy was pretty uneventful and maybe the others wont be so bad as well..........if only that were true.

Buuuurrrppp!

2011-07-15T07:09:00.000+05:00

: lovely *grimace*

I just came back from Zuhr prayers and sat down to read my sister's latest blog update (http://sapphirical.wordpress.com/2010/04/04/%e2%80%98of-elevators-and-people-%e2%80%99/#comment-85) in which she goes on about the age-old dilemma of elevator manners. While I wholeheartedly agree with her on this issue but truth is I am not bothered by most of it except the BURPING!

I mean I know there are some burps which you just cant stifle. They are like the MQM rallies where however hard you try it just comes out anyway. After which people wrinkle their noses and look sideways at you in disgust. Occasionally a brave soul will even wrinkle their nose and look at you as if your one of those gassy animals commonly found at the annual bakra mandi. Long story short you should always try to be conscious of the impending burp in a crowded space. And if it does happen (Thank Allah I have been spared) then APOLOGIZE to everyone for making them smell the "peeli daal with achaar" you just ate.

Oh by the way have you ever noticed the different types of burp sounds? I have heard the traditional "burp" (although it does not sound anything like the pronunciation) ones to the very weird "aaaaooouh" (say "come" in Urdu while stretching it and that is what it sounds like). Which is ironic because the LAST thing I would want to do is come closer. And let me tell you the latter one takes the prize for being the most offensive and smelly. The people emitting the latter ones are also the least bothered about the consequences. They don't even belong to a particular class of society as well if that is what one thinks. I have seen peons, CEO's , managers burping with utter disregard. This should come under tort you know!

*sigh* Anyway I have had my share of disgusting burp moments and they have always occurred in these places:

5. Crowded Marketplace

Most people have the misconceived notion that it is ok to burp in a crowded marketplace as no one will notice. The fact might hold true if you remember the following rules:

a: DONT face towards anyone while burping.

b: Do it when its really noisy so no one can hear you.

c: DONT burp when your packed like a sardine even if it is noisy as we can still smell the "Qeema" you had for lunch!! (You can go ahead with this if it is quite windy :D )

Just imagine yourself at sunday bazaar, walking to your fruit/veg/shoe/cloth wala, when you look to your right(or left) and someone burps right in your face (or in a very very uncomfortably close distance). First natural reaction is to gag! *gag* *gag* All the while the guy does not notice what he did. He looks on with a mildly amused face thinking "This guy is crazy". He has a point though as you might fit the definition of crazy for a moment or two ( I myself would recommend shoving a watermelon down his throat!!).

4. Mosque

WHO HASNT had this problem other than the Non-Muslims and people who don't EVER visit the mosque!. It's happened countless times for me to gleam certain facts that help me find out who is most likely to burp and when is it most likely to happen.

It is most probable at Isha or at Asr as the person has had his lunch or dinner by then and if you see someone looking bloated then by all means KEEP AWAY! During Salat if the person has difficulty getting up or grunts a bit (provided he is not old enough to have genuine difficulty because of his age) then bring up your defences. I once had to hold my breath for half a rakat (during tarawih prayers) because this guy next to me burped. I was in danger of fainting when i gave up and realized.........that he had biryani for dinner (the lucky git!).

Btw it is highly highly likely to occur during Isha or Tarawih as people will be arriving to pray after consuming quantities of food fit to placate the hunger of three normal people.

3. After a Meal

They say that one way to show your appreciation to the chef is by burping contentedly after a meal.......... ARE YOU INSANE!!?? That is disgusting NOT flattering! If I was the chef I would probably be horrified thinking that I gave my patrons horrible gas and try to procure some Eno or Hajmola for them. I hate it when the guy at the table next to you burps loudly enough for the dogs to start howling outside (not really but its damn near loud). And if your luck is bad, he will most definitely let loose a burp the moment you take a bite. Some times it just about manages to put me off my meal. So next time you need to burp while at a restaurant (if absolutely necessary!) then do it when people are not about to take a bite AND using the napkin to act as a silencer.

2. Elevator

It is just the quiet and congested places where people remember to be inconsiderate enough to burp loudly. If your going to the top floor and someone burps then you would do well to give him your most scathing look and pray to Allah (swt) that the small revolving fan above your head doesn't stop working or the elevator jams.

1. Car

This is only a problem if you have the air conditioning on but is quickly remedied by rolling down the windows for a few seconds. Allah (swt) help you if you are alone in the car with your friend and he switches the automatic window lock on (or you can't roll down your side of the window because of some mechanical error) and doesn't open his window. You have 2 choices then:

a. DONT BREATHE and die honorably.

b. Breathe and try to guess what he ate (Hey! It helps take your mind of your predicament) and realize he is evil whilst plotting revenge!.

Quite a list eh. Trust me when I say that it was far from pleasant digging through my traumatic experiences for this particular post. Well anyway what about you? Have you been in a similar situation?

[polldaddy poll=3012441]

Well that is it for this rant of mine. Please comment if you liked it.

Tech woes (condensed)

2011-07-15T07:04:00.000+05:00

If you have been following my blog or even the ongoing articles related to my Mobile phone history then you might probably have guessed that I am extremely fond of Technology! Granted I may not have big enough pockets to fulfill my yearning but truth be told half the fun of having/using new tech stuff is when everyone (or even someone) knows what the fuss is all about. Take HD Tv's for example..........HD means High Definition in case your not fol......-_-;.....your telling me you don't know what that is??? *Sigh* I rest my case. SEE!!!! That is what I mean! You show off your brand new HD TV to someone but the only reactions (after the polite "How much did it cost?" inquiry) you get range from :

1. Wow that is one big TV!

2. Its soo thin!

3. Isnt Standard better?

4. That's...er...nice.

5. Acha....

Then begins the arduous task of explaining the difference between the two and why one is better than the other and by the end of which I am always shot down by the following reply "But the cable channels looks awful on HD!? I prefer SD (Standard Definition) thank you very much."

By now I feeling like cracking my head open would have been a better use of my time. BUT they have a valid point as the local cable channels look crap on a HD TV compared to the SD TVs. Ok here begins a little tech lesson. SD tv displays 480 pixels per line while HD displays 720 to 1080 pixels per line (the latter display being Full HD) so obviously the HD picture is going to look way better that is unless your literally blind (in which case BRIALLE ROCKS!!!). The reason that our cable channels look crappy is because they are broadcast in SD so the Tv takes the SD video stretches it to fit the screen and Viola! You get crappy picture that does not do the Tv justice at all. Now if you want to show off the power of HD you will need a Blu ray player or a PS3 or a 360 all of which output in HD (PS3 being a virtual powerhouse with a Blu ray drive as well among other things) a HDMI cable and a Blu ray movie or any game for any one of the consoles. Connect and watch the awesomeness. For those of you who do not have a HDTV or want to know what the fuss is then either click here http://www.google.com/search?hl=en&safe=off&rls=com.microsoft%3Aen-us&q=HDTV+SDTV+difference&aq=f&aqi=&aql=&oq=&gs_rfai or visit your local Sony or Samsung Showroom.

Here are two pictures to show the size and quality difference.

: SDTV and HDTV Size-Resolution Comparison

: SD HD Quality Difference

Time for a change Innit!! (part 2)

2011-07-15T07:03:00.000+05:00

: It died on its own

http://www.gsmarena.com/nokia_7650-288.phpYes

Nokia's first camera phone the Nokia 7650 was my third phone. By now I had decided to take a step up the mobile phone features ladder and get one capable of taking pictures and MMS's. Actually the thought of sending an MMS was what spurred me into pestering my father to buy me one. It was not a total victory as I was only able to get a second-hand 7650 but nonetheless at least I got one. It was around this time that Ufone had entered the market and started promoting its services. It was the first cellular service provider to offer MMS services and I readily exchanged my Mobilink connection for a Ufone one with someone from my office. Granted that now I had the power to send an MMS but the problem was who to send it too. No one in my family or friends circle had a mms capable connection(everyone had Mobilink except my sister) or a mms supported mobile. Man that sucked big time but did little to dampen my spirits as I still had a wicked awesome mobile capable of taking pictures. I had this mobile for a while and I would not have bought another unless it had not deteriorated (sliding mechanism broke and various other faults arose).If there is one thing that I had come to detest about the Nokia 7650 it would be the abysmal memory limit! Only 4 MB!!!!! Granted it only had a VGA camera which in those days was a big thing but still I could not take many pics! Thankfully the crappy sliding system ,which Nokia has JUST perfected, gave out along with the tiny joystick in the middle. I needed a new mobile and fast!

........But unfortunately it was not gonna happen so fast. I had to make do with my Dad's old Samsung T100.

: Was old news now.

http://www.gsmarena.com/sony_ericsson_t100-349.php

Well not much to say about this phone since it was all the rage when it came out but its 15 minutes of fame were up by the time I got it. I just uploaded some newly converted polyphonic ringtones and bided my time Till I got a Nokia 3300! Yes my first phone that had the capability to play MP3s and use them as ringtones! :)

: Stolen!!!!!!!!!

http://www.gsmarena.com/nokia_3300-408.php

The games in that mobile were fun too. I fondly remember the one where you had to run your own dance clubs and if sometimes Alien DJs dropped by to truly rock the party. I guess I kinda showed off my phone too much cause I was robbed barely a few months after I bought it. I am 99% sure it was guy in my tuition classes whom I was going to drop off at his place. He suddenly wanted to take a piss in the middle of a dark alley and opened the car door before I could tell him to stop acting crazy. In a minute two guys jumped us with knives and snatched my mobile along with my watch (original swatch) and after landing a punch or two got in their car and drove away. I wont ever forgive the retards and hope to see them burn in Hell!!!!!!!! *ahem* now where was I? Oh yes I remember. My next mobile......

Definitive Diagnosis

2011-07-15T07:01:00.000+05:00

I don't quite remember the exact date when my brother returned from Dubai but what i do remember was that my father, elder brother, younger brother and i had gone to pick him up. When we saw him he looked perfectly fine, his usual athletic self, but on closer inspection one could see reddish spots (lesions) on his body. My father on seeing him suddenly became misty eyed (it was no secret that he was the fav son) and the moment was very awkward to say the least.

What happened next was the usual family drama and i do not want to recount it all.

The first thing we needed to do before starting treatment was get a definitive diagnosis as to what exact type of cancer my brother has. The hospitals in Karachi are many but not all are capable(at least that is what we thought). After some advice from various people we set off for AKUH(Agha Khan University Hospital). First we went to a ENT specialist who told us that would need to biopsy the lesions to diagnose it. Well 2 days or so later the biopsy was done and a few days after it was confirmed that it is cancer not a skin disease. The cancer type was still not confirmed though, the diagnosis was conflicted between lymphoma and leukemia.

That was not what I expected of the 'famous' (countrywide at least) AKUH. And boy was I surprised that they told us to get a second opinion from Ziauddin Hospital. While waiting for the test results we went to NIBD (National Institute of Blood Diseases) to see DR. Tahir Shamsi (I think he is one of the people who did the first bone marrow transplant in Pakistan). Well that was one of the most depressing moments of my life. I have yet to see a less courteous, ethically deprived sorry excuse of a Doctor. Here we are being told that Abdur Rehman(my brother) might have a very fast spreading type of cancer, and unless he gets treatment asap could be DEAD in 6 months or so, all the while he attends calls or checks his mobile after every 2 or 3 minutes!!! We were numb with shock at the news and he was just leaning back in his chair with a look that literally showed he could not care less what we thought or decided. He even declined my father's request to give his mobile number incase we had further queries. My numbness was fast being replace by white-hot rage at his attitude and I only stopped myself from saying something harsh when my father stood up to leave. I felt like crying from anger and hopelessness on the drive back home. Those were horrible days.

A day or two later..

The test results from Ziauddin were back and they were able to confirm that it was "Acute T-cell Lymphoblastic Lymphoma". A rare and aggressive cancer closely related to leukemia. Most patients with this diagnosis are critically ill and require immediate hospitalization but there are odd cases like my brother's where the only indication was night sweats and skin lesions. At last a name for the disease that was killing him slowly. Now how do we go about killing it before it kills him....

Grease my palm brother!

2011-07-15T07:00:00.000+05:00

Ok don't get used to me updating my blog so often as todays update is only because i am feeling a bit under the weather and have taken a day off from work. Asthma attacks and headaches trouble me to no end today. Anyway I wanted to write about a typical day at work for me. The next updates to my blog would be the continuation of my cancer ordeal and my mobile phone quest inshAllah.

My father is self-employed running his own clearing forwarding and sales tax consultancy business and I have started working with him for almost a year now while my elder brother joined recently. In our line of work we deal with matters relating to customs and sales tax refunds. Now what kind of treatment does one expect dealing with Govt officials? For readers living in countries where corruption is not a big issue you can expect either rapid response(hey it happens once in a blue moon) or either hours(if not days) of useless delays in sorting out your issue. But for the unfortunate individuals like yours truly living in corruption rife countries one expects rapid relief provided one has no qualms about greasing a few palms and frustrations galore if you piss the official off by not bribing him.

Well I usually start work by going to either one of these places, or sometimes all three in succession, the Customs appellate Tribunal , the FTO office and the Customs House.

: My elder brother sitting in the dark waiting for our case to be heard in the tribunal

The Customs appellate Tribunal : The Tribunal, Situated in Saddar near the Paradise hotel, is one place i find tolerable as the word of the law is (almost) supreme. Most of the time our hearings are adjourned due to a multitude of reasons and we end up driving back to the office or some other engagement if we have any. If not then we plead our case (We are successful about 99.9% of the time) and listen to the customs or sales tax official flounder about a while before the Judge gets pissed enough ,at his weak grasp of the law, to reserve his judgement and asks all of us to leave the room. Sometimes the wait before a hearing is hours and made all the worse when the load shedding occurs after which we brace ourselves for a long uncomfortable and sweaty wait. I usually instead of fiddling about with my mobile or iTouch roam the corridors and chat up anyone i meet. On one such occasion i chanced upon this room full of what seemed like records or old case files and instead of saying all that is wrong about that I am just going to post a picture so you can count the reasons yourselves.

: Stacked a foot or two on the floor of the room.

FTO Office : This is where we come for our sales tax related cases and in cases relating to mal-administration. The FTO's office (Federal Tax Ombudsman) is located on the 14th floor of the NIC building near the FTC flyover. After a very scary journey in one of the ancient elevators we reach the place which is (THANK ALLAH) air conditioned and start our usually short wait for our case to be heard. The only thing that grinds my gears here is that sometimes our case is heard by someone very biased towards the customs or someone who interprets the law as he sees fit while refusing to account for the many Supreme and High Court Judgements we present him with. This is where we ask for a review of our case with the FTO Dr.Shoaib Suddle himself of whom the customs officials and FTO office officials fear very much. On occasions a prankster turns of the power of the 14th floor which leaves us all sitting in pitch dark office till someone turns it back on. How did they go about resolving the issue you say?

: That should put an end to this nonsense :/

Customs house - A visit here is what I loathe most as I get disgusted at the incompetence of most of the officials there. In order to better facilitate the importer and exporters our govt launched "Pakistan Customs Computerized System" or "PACCS". This proved to be nothing more than a way of corrupt and incompetent officials to delay the clearance of importers just so they can earn a little cash on the side. Their earnings each days ranges from PKR 20,000 to 300,000 according what I have seen and heard. The bribery culture is so open that even the guards and peons ask for cash. Failure to accommodate their "humble" requests can have them delaying your hearing with the official by either misplacing your papers or making you wait longer then necessary in line.

On almost every day there are dozens of people queued outside every official's door and the absence of air conditioning or even ventilation makes this task seem more like a punishment than work (One can argue that there is no difference between the two anyway ;) ). Oh and here is another picture showing the state of affairs at the Custom's House.

: This chair is chained to a bench to stop someone from stealing it (must have happened before :S )

So after all that is done with we finally head towards our office to enjoy a nice cup of tea before once again getting down to business.

Time for a change Innit! (part 1)

2011-07-15T00:33:00.000+05:00

Cellular service providers estimate 85% of the adult population has a mobile phone or two and that there are 50 million potential subscribers under the age of 14 leaving no doubt that Pakistan has embraced the mobile phone culture wholeheartedly. I am one of those smitten with newer mobile phone models that are announced what seems like every other day and would most of the time like nothing better than to go out and buy one at the launch date. There are of course those poor souls who know not of the excitement and joy the purchase of a new mobile brings. One can argue that they are the smart ones by not squandering their hard-earned or saved money on newer mobile phones after every few months and I agree it is a valid point but it really is actually a matter of interest. See mobile phones just don't seem all that interesting to them and I am clueless about why that is. Anyway instead of dwelling on them let's get started on the reason I am writing this. I wanted to write about my journey from the moment I bought my first mobile phone to today where I am hoping to InshAllah buy my next. I think it all started in 2003 when a new Mobilink(Orascom) connection cost approx PKR 4000-5000 (Mobilink, Insta and Paktel were the only service providers then) and the then popular Nokia 3310 aka 'the brick' cost around PKR 8000-10000 and it seemed that just about everyone in the upper middle and upper class suddenly had one. The reason for this sudden spurt was Mobilink launching their pre-paid connection service called "Jazz" which was immensely popular. But a sms cost PKR 5 and the call rates were a tad bit higher than the sms rates so having a mobile phone in those days was still a privilege as not everyone could afford one. Pervez Musharraf was the president and the world was still in shock because of the 9/11 terrorist attacks, hate crimes against Muslims were at an all time high and I was just another teenager in college.

So here begins my journey....

I clearly remember the first mobile phone that I purchased from my the pocket-money that I had saved up for a few years was a Samsung N500(cost around PKR 8000)http://www.gsmarena.com/samsung_n500-328.php and I loved it.

: My first

I remember I would get so excited when someone used to message or call me as I really had about 10 or 20 people in my contact list. What really piqued my interest was that you could get ringtones for your phone and although I did manage to get a few(desert rose by sting, sandstorm) it never really satisfied me. So when I learned of polyphonic ringtones I became obsessed to own a phone capable of doing that. After selling my N500 I bought a..

Samsung N620 http://www.gsmarena.com/samsung_n620-309.php for more or less the same price like the Samsung N500 .

: Stolen!!!

Now I have this habit of researching whatever electronic gadget or appliance I plan to buy so that I know all about it when I finally buy it. So when I finally bought this phone I had everything ready and within minutes had the latest songs converted to *.mmf polyphonic ringtones uploaded. It certainly impressed my family and friends a lot. Alas this phone was also the first phone to get stolen :( . I was about to start my chemistry practical exam that day and a friend asked to borrow it to message someone. It was only during the practical that I remembered(chalk my forgetfulness up to nervousness) and after confronting him he told me that he returned it to me while I was doing some last-minute revision just before the exam started. So after the exam ended in another 10 or 20 mins I ran to check up on the place. It would be very naïve to think I could have found my mobile considering there is hardly and decency left in the world or my country for that matter. Just so you know i never again trusted that "friend". So with a heavy heart I went home and ,after explaining what happened to my parents, rang up my service provider and had my connection blocked. Then began a looooong wait before my father bought me my next phone.

What's Wrong?

2011-07-15T00:23:00.000+05:00

I have thought about blogging about one of the most traumatic experiences in my life up till now. I hope that it would be turn out to be therapeutic for me InshAllah and hopefully serve as an insight to what happened during the harrowing ordeal to my family and to me. It wont just be one blog post but might most probably span many as it is a long story. I will leave out all the boring bits if I can inshAllah. One other thing I hope to cover is the type of care the hospitals we visited gave my brother and other people we met who were going through the same ordeal.

Well that is all I have to say before I begin. I might update it later but for now here we go..

After giving my ACCA papers in June '08 I was out watching a movie at the cinema (Prince or Capri most probably) with my elder brother and a cousin. Needless to say we were enjoying ourselves immensely and after the movie ended I decided to treat them to dinner when lo and behold I get a call from my brother who was studying in a university in Dubai for his BBA degree. He told me to go straight home so my parents would explain everything. I am usually a very patient person but not all the time and it was here that I could not bear to wait and told him to explain himself now.

Here I feel I should tell you that my brother had felt a bit ill for a past week or so and had gone to the doctor for a check up with his best friend and had yet to tell us what the problem was.

He said that when I get home mom will explain everything. Now when someone says something like that you can be perfectly sure it's not just the flu or a sore throat. For some reason cancer popped into my mind (might be because of all the med shows i watch and cancer related Reader's Digest articles I read) and I blurted out the question. "Is it cancer by any chance?"

After some hesitation he answered in the affirmative and told me it's related to his thyroid glands. As a big brother should, I tried to allay his fears using the knowledge I had gleamed from the multitude of medical tv shows I had watched over the years. I do not know if it worked but before ending the call he told me tell no one.
With my heart stuck in my throat I made up an excuse to tell my cousin and brother that the plan is off.
They luckily did not Suspect anything and I then proceeded on my uneventful but extremely anxious drive home after dropping my brother and cousin at their respectful residences.

(For those of you confused about me dropping my elder brother of at his place let me clarify by saying that my father has two wives and each lives in separate houses with their offspring. We are close with each other though. Anyway this might call for a separate post later.)

When I hurried upstairs I must confess that I expected to find my parents crying but actually they were just frantic and anxious. They were contacting their doctor friends for advice and after that started calling my brother and asking him how he was faring . I for my part googled the hell of out every type of lymph node related cancer there was. All that I remember was that almost every website I went to kept stressing that the earlier a cancer is caught and the treatment started the more higher the rate of survival!!

I reeled a little as I realized that there might be a chance that my brother wont survive this ordeal. After contacting a very good if not best friend of mine so he could ask his father who was eye surgeon if he knew of any good oncologists, I called my brother up in front of my parents and told him to catch the first flight home so we can get started with reconfirming the diagnosis and start on the treatment. He instead wanted to delay it a week as his last paper was in two days or so but in the end acquiesced to my suggestion. As I ended the call and looked up to see the tears rolling down my mother's face I prayed to Allah (SWT) to give me strength. I still could not believe this was happening to me....