musings

Dec 2, 2010
Do I speak some strange language?
because women think I am too intelligent, read too much, have strong opinions and am an intellectual on top of all that and they don’t know how to engage me in small talk.

Men think ‘enh, she is just a women’ and so the big boys, with their bloated egos, pass me by.

They both are wrong.

I am a minority.

yesterday

She looked at her hands – ‘ they are my begging bowl, empty always – empty’. She looked at the time. The time. In another ten minutes he would board his home bound bus and would be lost for twelve hours. That was her curfew on herself  imposed by herself – on her thoughts and her wishes.  (days and nights)

Excerpts from a Dec.2, 2009  letter to a friend.

… these days I am in the hands of four doctors. A dentist, my primary care MD, my surgeon and another doctor from my insurance who comes to the house to talk about my health.. In Feb. of this year I had my surgery and because of that I had to cancel my dentists appointment.  When I was well enough, I went to the dentist in August. Soon as he saw me he left his patient to the nurse and came running to me. He wanted to give me a hug to show how happy he was to see me. I said, spare me, I don’t want to hang on a six and a half feet pole. He laughed, patted me on my shoulder and went back to his patient. Later, when I was waiting for him, reading my book, he came in, stood by my side, making a pose like a philosopher, said, mrs. zaidi you are a beautiful women. Yes, beautiful! I tell you .. I was happy to hear that after a long and hard struggle with recuperation process that I wanted to give him a big kiss but ‘afsos’ couldn’t do that. If I had, my other half would have killed him and then me or maybe him first and then me.

While coming back home, I narrated the whole episode to him but on ‘cautionary grounds’ censored the kissing part. Why take a chance :)

Yesterday

kaveh, kaveh sakht jaane-haai tanhaaii nah pooch

subha karna shaam ka laana haiy jooiey sheer ka

(ghalib)

sometimes last year

On the other side of the lake someone lighted a candle. On this side of the lake, sitting in the dark she looked at the flickering flame. She could make out two forms sitting close to each other. Then one leaned towards the other ….  on this side she got up and went inside.

Wednesday, January23, 2013.

On the threshold of the afternoon

I left a rose.

Tomorrow,

when you open the day

the rose will greet you.

Grow it in your memory

that I planted.

One day

when the days will stand alone

and the nights long and lonely,

open the book of memories

the rose will be there, fresh and fragrant,

I promise.

Wednesday, January16,2013

(markings in  days and nights)
۔۔۔۔ وہاں جہاں تم تھے قلم اور کاغذ کے ساتھہ ، سامنے بیٹھے سا معین سے مخا طب ،  اس وقت
تمھا ر ے ذہن میں شاید یہ با ت کہیں دور دور بھی نہیں تھی کھ ایک سال ، کسی ایک برس
وہ ایک عجب بے بسی کے سا منے چپ ، چاہنے نہ چا ہنے کےسامنے بےاختیار ، نڈھال تمہاری
زندگی میں آ کر بھی نہیں آ سکے گی ۔ کوئ بھی جا نتا نہیں تھا ۔ بس ایک وقت تھا جو آ ہستہ خرامی
سے اس ایک لمحے کی طرف بڑھ رہا تھا ۔۔۔ آہستہ خرامی ، کہ دونوں اپنی اپنی زندگئوں میں گُندھ
جایئں ایسے کہ سوائے حیرت و حسرت کچھہ بھی اختیار میں نہ ہو ۔

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