The lovely Chinese lady
There is an old Chinese woman who lives across the hall from us. She does not speak English. I don’t know how and when exactly it started but, somewhere between now and a few months ago, we became friends. She usually knocks on our door thumping it with all her might and gives us food. She keeps talking in Cantonese I think it is, and when I try to resist her gifts, she shakes her head vehemently. She usually gives me exotic Chinese stuff, which I fear contains pork and so never end up eating. But I take it anyway and keep chanting “thankyou thankyou”. I realize how the English language becomes insufficient. Yesterday as I was coming up the elevator, I spotted the lady again. The other day she had pointed to herself and said “Kim” so I said my name pointing to myself. I called out her name and she saw me and held my hand. I impulsively hugged her. She then held my hand and took me to her apartment, gave me bananas, clothes and some exotic looking crackers. She also showed me the photos pasted on her walls. “Hollywood” she said pointing to a picture of a Chinese family with young children…they must be her kids I thought. And one she said “Vancouver”. So I asked “No HongKong?” and she shook her head all the while talking in her native tongue. She lives all alone. I wonder where her children are…why don’t they take her with them? I had heard that Asians have highly respect for their elders…maybe I’m misinterpreting her…after all I don’t understand Cantonese. Or maybe I’m judging.
For me, what is remarkable is that this lady, whose words I do not understand, and who doesn’t comprehend my words – can have a relationship with me that is far more comfortable than I have with many of my relatives and acquaintances. I feel no awkwardness, no discomfort talking to and hugging her. I tried giving her stuff too – but every time she shakes her head stubbornly and says something which I cant understand. What I can understand is that she refuses to take anything from me…reminds me of my Pakistani tradition of not taking stuff from younger people, in a way. I understand but I feel bad. So yesterday when I insisted through signs that she has to take the dessert I had gotten, she took my hand and took me into the apartment, and into the kitchen and showed me how much she had. There were rows of boxes of chips and biscuits. I guess she was saying I have too much. And she handed me more crackers. I’m just surprised that even though we are complete strangers, we can’t even have a comprehensible conversation, in my own way, I really care for her.

watched fahrenheit 9/11 yesterday...was bickering with A...got the worst seats in the theatre..sort of came out not knowing if i liked the film too much or just very much. Had something to do with me staring up, craning my neck to see the screen perhaps. We were so close that in order to see from side to side on the screen, we had to move our heads.
BUT great film. Please watch it. I also saw two other great films last week - Osama and for the fifth time, Earth. Osama left me spellbound and hurt and angry and fuming - all at the same time. I just wanted to get out of here and go to afghanistan and DO something. WHat the f does watching enlightening movies achieve anyway? unless you use that sense of awakening to undo something...
Is it me or do all 20 somethings feel this sense of agency? this will and want to get out and change things...why cant we? I want to do so much and yet i cant..so many barriers and stupid hierarchical systems to overcome. I know im an idealist but perhaps if i keep the flame alive for long enough, ill actually DO something way down the road...or will I?

also read tft's special edition...although it was rather "full of itself", i look up to people Jugnu Mohsin who tried and succeeded to an extent, to DO something. And yet i was perturbed to see the same bourgeoise-ness and coolness that pakistan's socialites and cremedelacreme exude...why must the glitterati have to be associated with the literati? This one article by a designer Ms.Khan was so damn full of itself. These people think dressing up is what its all about?? women with expensive limegreen suits and poodles on a white leather leash are what its all about? I have nothing against people dressing up, but when they deem it so important, it just bugs the shi- out of me.Dressing up is for yourself, not for others - it wont solve anyone's problems, and dammit its not the most important thing in the world..

We were discussing hegemony and americanization when this guy goes "but dont we want this? I do notice political things and I like watching tv" and bla bla. He was responding to the professor's comment of how we unknowingly buy into alot that the culture, media, state propagates. I thought this guy was playing the devil's advocate, but sadly those were his real views. it doesnt help that he's white.
I raised my hand and answered him, looking him in the eye. He was defending the U.S in not so many words. He is one of those who subscribe to the view of Bush, the saviour, bloody ignorant gora. But i started shaking. My voice quivered. As I finished talking I noticed my fingers...they were moving, shivering. As if I was cold. This always happens to me when i contradict someone so vocally, so openly. I feel this huge rush of emotion, of anger and adrenaline- all in one and then i shiver.It takes me time to recover but im satisfied i said my piece.
They hold the G8 summit in a remote part of town so noone will be able to protest. They spend trillions on military when they could cure world hunger with less than half that amount..and he says its ok.
As the other guy in my class said "whoever thinks that today the world is a happy place, is kidding himself"

I bought CLICK biscuits at the desi grocery store the other day...they reminded me of old times :) i am such a dreamer hai na?
kher so they cost $1 and i thought, wow...thats cheap. Now the box was the exact same size as one would get back home but when i opened them, they were like a nunna munna version of the ones i used to eat in pakistan. Like really tiny!
abhi i just had them with tea..yummm
when i was about 9 i think, i used to pretend to be a rich heiress who lives in a mansion and has a best friend who always comes to tea. Me and my pretend friend would sit and have CLICK drenched in tea beaten to a soft pulp with a tea spoon. So it would be like a paste and it tasted really great and i thought we should start a cafe that sells pulpy CLICK since it tastes so yummy. And in my pretend world, we did
kher click kha kay yeh sub yaad aa gaya...

yeh khabrain khatam hi nahi hoti...
2 killed, 5 killed, 38 killed...
when will it all end?

As we were returning in the greyhound bus,i thought about my diary...how i have ignored that special diary over the years...i suppose in large part due to this very cyberspace called my "blog"..i vowed to start writing in my diary soon. I guess none of us can bring ourselves to write the very personal stuff in this public domain anyways..whenever i go back and read my diary, it reminds me of so many things, childhood memories, hurts, incidents...
im glad we took the bus since i have never ever been on a six hour bus journey before. In the beginning i was very apprehensive because of my back ache, but the trip did turn out to be one from heaven after all - or as close as it can get anyway :)
i have developed a bond with my friend now. she's been my friend for seven years but we werent really that close - we were in a group and so there never was a need to be. But travelling with someone really makes you grow closer.I didnt even know M but now i love her like a sister..
as i was leaving i thought this is my once-in-a-lifetime trip and for me its unique because i got to see all these old friends and people my age but in very different circumstances...it was kind of unsettling to see that i was the only married one and the others were living these overly independent lives..but we all make our choices and im happy with mine..yet it does leave you with a strange sense of loss for some reason.
It was wonderful roaming the streets late into the night with s and her friends, we woke up early and left to explore the campus and go sight seeing. For the first two nights we lived with s's friend in the heart of downtown and we could walk to everywhere basically which was great. Their friends were very hospitable and made me feel like one of the gang which was great.
all in all this was a great trip, even if it was very short..

I am back. Kehte hein when you laugh too much, you eventually end up crying...well its a cliche and its superstitious but i had laughed my head off this weekend and when i got back, i heard about yet another killing in karachi..
it never ends does it?
getting on then, after all this has become routine..we are immune now, too absorbed in our little worlds to worry about what happend miles away to unknown people due to no fault of their own.
i did have a great time in montreal, i have never felt more independent and free. I missed A but i'm very glad i went.i cannot bring myself to say more when images of people crying flash before my eyes, gruesome images of blood stained carpets and body parts randomly strewn over those carpets...tommorow maybe i will write.