The Asteroid That Came and is Still Here

So, my favorite asteroid 2007 TU24 has passed us by and nothing really happened. No firestorms erupted, no light show, no sudden shifts in the weather, no plasma power surges, and definitely no hard disks were wiped clean. But we all already knew that, didn't we?

Actually, the asteroid is still here. It can still be seen, not with a naked eye, of course, but you just might be able to see it if your eye was fully clothed*. It is pretty far away so it's following a languid arc through our sky and it's going to take it another couple of days to completely saunter out of our line of sight. So, if it were likely to cause the destruction and mayhem that many people had been so hyper about, we would have started seeing the effects a few days earlier.

But you got to admit: those of you who read my last post and did not know about the asteroid went ahead and googled it, right? I know for sure that at least one of you did. And it was scary, wasn't it? What if the asteroid had actually hit Earth? What if it did wipe out all the hard disks in the world? Can you imagine what that would do to our civilization? I think that maybe it won't be such a bad thing after all. Maybe an external threat common to the whole world might nudge us to drop our petty differences amongst each other and learn to live in peace and harmony. But the problem with us is that we get distracted too easily, and we tend to forget disasters too quickly. Our distraction comes from the trivialities of life, such as food, and we forget about what is more important in an instant. The riots following BB's assassination distracted us from Guljee's murder and crippled Karachi, but we have forgotten about both these events and are now carrying on with the same routine life that we had before. In this vein, one cannot help but wonder how we would take the news of such mind bogglingly large and impending doom lurking on our heads. Would the whole world unite for the first time in history to combat a common... hey my pizza is here! I haven't eaten all day. I am so hungry. So, what was I talking about?

*This is just a joke. Please don't force your eyes to wear a suit . Use a telescope instead. It's easier and you won't blind yourself trying to zip up a cornea.

No Peeking Please, We Are Pakistani

I made a post earlier about the internecion of the English language that happens in Karachi and other parts of Pakistan. Shiraz made some comments about how there are many words in Urdu that are gross approximations of some English words and how, say, 'knickers' becomes 'nayker' and 'pliers' becomes 'plaas.' I agree with him in that there are many words in Urdu that are 'borrowed' from English. Actually, the Urdu language is the bastard child of a rather bacchanalian copulation between Hindi, Persian, Arabic, many of the Turkic languages, and English. The English influence, of course, comes from the English who ruled over the sub-continent unofficially for 300+ years (officially 89 years). And since the English language itself is a mongrel product of various Germanic languages including Yiddish, Afrikaans, many of the Frisian languages, and Dutch, it also makes Kirna right when she says that many languages overlap.

This overlapping of languages became daftly apparent to me today when I saw a sign that said: 'no smoking, no eating paan, and please, no peeking.' For those of my readers who do not know what this means, the term 'peek maarna' is an expression in Urdu and it describes the act of chewing betel nuts, catechu, lime paste all wrapped in betel leaves and then spitting them all out in a long, red stream onto any wall or corner that you are closest to. For my readers who don't know English, the term 'peeking' denotes the act of looking or peering furtively as from a place of concealment. I am not trying to be condescending here, but kAy and Khaver would appreciate why I say that seeing the 'no peeking' sign I got thoroughly confused and its exact meaning is still lost upon me.

That's when the idea for this post came to me and I said to myself, 'why not? We, the Karachiites, are, after all, Masters of the Universe. Where else would you find people who wear 'Mercury' branded underwear, work in 'Venus' Distributors, who take their cars to 'Atlas' Honda, hire guards from 'Mars' Security Services, put 'Jupiter' CPEs near their windows, and buy their fish from 'Neptune' Fisheries. Only in Karachi can people buy gin from 'Moon,' take credit from 'Crescent' Commercial Bank, order garments from 'Star' Textiles, avail the UBL 'Orion' mobile phone banking, go for a picnic at 'Paradise' Point, exchange currency at the 'Glaxy' Money Exchange Company, and buy a laptop from 'Glaxy' Computers.

And this brings me to the real reason I wanted to make this post today because come tomorrow afternoon (Tuesday January 29, 2008), an asteroid called 2007 TU24 is going to rendezvous with Earth's magnetosphere. It's the first time that we are going to be able to witness and record such a phenomenon and no one is really sure what's going to happen. There are predictions of firestorms and light shows in the sky, unpredictable weather, and a power surge that can wipe out all the hard disks in the world. Most of these theories seem kind of crack potted and out there to me, and the only thing that everyone seems to be very sure of is that no one is sure what's going to happen. Asteroid 2007 TU24 is expected to be closest to earth at 1:33 pm Pakistan Standard Time.

The suspense is killing me!

The Life and Non-Murder of my Friend

I have a friend who used to live in Karachi, but has now shifted north to Islamabad. This friend has been a source of great entertainment for me and the rest of my friends. It's not because he is a comedian or a joke maker; he is an ignoramus simpleton who has kept us laughing our asses off for showing us some of the world's funniest moments. I don't want to divulge his name for the sake of protecting his identity, and let's just, for the sake of this conversation, call him Alid.

The first time I met Alid was when I was in class 7 or 8 and the first time I spoke to him was in class 10. We were in our O'Levels and it was traditional for the juniors to arrange a farewell party for their seniors. I had recently started playing the guitar and I thought it would be nice to play a song for our graduating class at our farewell party. I asked around to find out if anyone else knew anything about playing songs and I found that another guy (let's just arbitrarily call him Kumail) also knew how to strum a few chords. 'Perfect,' I remember thinking, 'now all we need is a singer and we are set.' That's when Alid stepped up and said, 'yes, I can sing.'

Now you have to remember that I was around 16 years old at the time. I was quite naive and took most of what was said to me at face value. I did not doubt it when Kumail told me that he knew how to play the guitar, and I did not doubt Alid when he said he could sing. At the time, I had no idea that to sing meant to actually throw your voice in tune and in time. Just as I had learnt to play the guitar, I simply assumed that Alid knew how to sing. That was a grave mistake because I soon found out that Alid did not really know how to sing at all. He just said he could sing because he had also simply assumed he could. You can imagine how bad he sounded when he sang by the fact that (and honest to god I am not joking) we were boo-ed off the stage five minutes before we had even started to play the song.

Fast forward a couple of years and it’s the new era of the Internet and MIRC. Another friend of mine, lets call him Danial, and I are online from Tempe, AZ, sitting in #delusions, and we find that Alid has been killed, shot dead during a fight in Karachi. Now this was the time when cell phones were the size of cricket bats and you had to be either a drug lord, a respected businessman, or both, to be able to afford them. And Alid was no drug lord nor a respected businessman and the last time he had played cricket he had fallen asleep on the field during the match while wicket keeping because (swear to god I am not joking) he had mistakenly eaten a bunch of Valiums thinking they were Panadols. So we call his home phone (what is now called a landline), and Alid's mother picks up. We are unsure as to what to say, but are relieved when she tells us that Alid has just stepped out to buy a pack of Marlboro Mediums. Fast forward another few years and its the new era of electronic music and MSN. We are all sitting in Danial's room in Karachi and Alid is also there. That's when Danial remembers the Alid Murder Incident and we tell Alid that we had heard he got murdered a few years ago and we want to know why the rumor began and what actually happened. To this, the first thing Alid said was, 'nahi yaar, woh mera murder nahi hoowa tha.' ('No man, I was not the one who was murdered').

It was then that we realized that Alid had a tendency to say the most inappropriate things at the most inappropriate times. And it was not much later that we found that he once told his online girlfriend, 'my love for you is like the Titanic,' to which the girl replied, 'oh, but didn't the Titanic sink?' He is the same person who we once found carrying around a lit candle in the dark (the lights were out because of load 'shading') and searching for a lighter to light his cigarette, and the same person who once described an electronica song (and again I swear to god I am not joking) as being ‘deep, dark, progressive, house, trance, deep, dark, house...’

It’s quite sad that our friend Alid has moved from Karachi and is now living (and probably still entertaining people around him) in Islamabad. What does he do for a living, you might wonder? He is a Director Creative for an advertising agency and most of his work involves pressing the F5 button on his computer’s keyboard. And now you know why most of the ads we see on our television screens are like the way they are and why they mostly show people saying the most inappropriate things at the most inappropriate times.

The Left, Right, and Wrong Way

Anyone who has been a pedestrian at any point in life knows how careful he or she must be while walking on the road. I was in Amsterdam a few years ago and I remember their curious road system. There are various lanes that you have to watch out for if you want to cross the road. The first lane closest to the sidewalk is for bicyclists and skaters, then comes the actual road for the cars, then two tram tracks appear in the middle of the median (one going left and one right), then its cars going the other way, and then another bicyclist lane closest to the other sidewalk. You have to look left and right so many times while crossing their roads that by the time you get to the other side you not only have a terrible pain in your neck, you also tend to forget why you wanted to cross the road in the first place. The pedestrian situation in Karachi is very different and here you would find bicycles and motorcycles on the sidewalk, cars traveling both ways on the same road, some more motorcycles in the bus lanes, buses on the median, and pedestrian everywhere. Only thing similar about crossing a road here in Karachi is that you not only get a sprained neck from looking left and right so much, but you can very easily end up with a broken arm or leg if you are careless enough to forget why you were crossing the road.

Anyone who has ever driven a car at any point in life surely knows how careful he or she must be while driving a car on the road. You have various lanes on the road and the basic idea is to keep your car in the lane and avoid hitting any other vehicles or any pedestrians that are crossing the road. That's very easy to do, say in the USA, where you drive on the right side of the road, the lanes are well defined, and pedestrians only cross the streets if they are at the intersection. Driving in Karachi, the basic idea of driving has to be slightly modified in that you have to keep other cars, motorcycles, bicycles, rickshaws, buses, trucks, tankers, vans, eighteen-wheelers, twenty-two-wheelers, donkey carts, cows, and of course the pedestrians, from hitting your car. It becomes exceedingly difficult to achieve this since you have to drive on the left side of the road, the lanes are well-defined at many places but the people's concept of driving between them is not, and pedestrians, cows, donkey carts, twenty-two-wheelers, eighteen-wheelers, vans, tankers, trucks, buses, rickshaws, bicycles, motorcycles, and cars cross the street anywhere they feel like doing so.

So it is of no surprise that people (both pedestrians and drivers) here in Karachi pay very little or absolutely no attention to signs on the roads (unless of course they are big huge billboards with a very large picture of a girl next to a miniature washing machine). Perhaps it was because of this little detail that when my Karachiite friend came to visit me in New York a few years ago, he called me and told me he was waiting for me to pick him, and I asked him where he was, to which he answered, ‘I am standing next to a DON’T WALK sign,’ I told him, ‘hold on man, I will be right there!’ And you can probably imagine the anxiety and distress my friend went through when, after a few seconds, he saw the sign change to WALK.

A Monkey Named Ginger

I heard some very interesting 'muhawarays' the other day. For those who don't know Urdu: 'muhawarays' is plural for a 'muhawaraa.' And for those who know Urdu but don't know what a 'muhawaraa' is: its an aphophtegm or an aphorism. For those still baffled: I heard some very interesting 'sayings said in Urdu' the other day. One of them was: 'bandar kya jaanay adrak ka swaad?' which is roughly translated in English as: 'what does the monkey know about savoring ginger?' It didn't make too much sense to me. I mean I get it that it means something like that the monkey is too primitive to really savor the flavor of ginger enough to appreciate it. But why would you want to know how a monkey feels after eating ginger? And what kind of a monkey (or any human being for that matter) would want to savor the flavor of ginger?

Another very interesting thing that I have noticed is the names that people decide to name the buildings that they are building or have already built. For instance, the apartment complex that they have built by the sewerage/drainage is called Lakeview Paradise; there is not a single tower at Park Towers; and 'believe you me,' there is actually a Lahore Grammar School of Karachi. Also, there are so many businesses that have very similar names. Only in Karachi will you find bakeries called Ideal Bakers, Ideal Bakery, New Ideal Bakers, New Ideal Bakery, Bakery Ideal, New Bakery Ideal, New Bakers in Ideal Bakery, and so forth. None of them have any connection with each other except for the words that are common in their names. In Karachi, it is considered good business sense to add the word 'new' before the name of an old business so that people think that since its 'new' it must be better.

I have also noticed that people in Karachi don't take too kindly to humor and satire. Since I have started writing this blog, many people have come up to me to tell me that it's not right for me to write such derogatory things about our beloved city, and that I should stop making fun of Karachi. These same people also ask me, 'what the hell are you writing? Are you trying to be funny? Your blog is so lame.' My response to these people is: 'bandar kya jaanay adrak ka swaad.'

What's the Point?

There is a very old and firm structure built somewhat in the vicinity of but not nearly so close to the city-side seashore of Karachi (better known as Sea View). This structure that I am talking about has a semi dome, almost elliptical roof, and round pillars that are based out of a raised platform. Made out of Jodhpur stone, this structure shouts out Islamic architecture that was popularized by the Mughals and built mostly by the British. At first sight, it might appear as a mosque, but it’s actually a bandstand that was in regular use many, many years ago. There is an octagonal seat in the center of this structure and if you stand upon it, you can see the old pier, or parade, that leads out towards the ocean. This is the Jehangir Kothari Parade, most of which has been ‘renovated’ to make way for the new park, yet the structure still stands. But that’s beside the point.

There is another building in the same local region, and this was actually built by the British for their own personal use. Funnily enough, this building is located on a road called Shahra-e-Iran (meaning Iran Avenue). The building covers a huge area of prime land in the area of Clifton, and is reputed to have a fully functional pub and club inside. No Pakistani, of course, is allowed to enter unless it’s on official business and even if one of us green passport holders does somehow manage to squeeze inside, he or she won’t be able to use any of the facilities. This is the British High Commission’s office in Clifton, and that’s also beside the point.

The Point is a shopping mall that's besides the Jehangir Kothari Parade and the British High Commission’s office.

The Secret of my 'Healthy' Life

I used to be very thin until I turned 23. I remember that all the time in my late teens and early twenties, I used to weigh not more than a 120 lbs. And at a height of 5'11 3/4'', that's quite thin. My shoulder bones would stick out of the clothes that I would wear and I could almost wrap my hands around my waist, which used to be somewhere in the vicinity of 25-26 inches, but I would tell everyone that it was 28. I would wear two sometimes even three t-shirts inside my shirt so that I could look a little 'blown up'. People would come up to me and say things like, 'oh my god, you are so thin,' 'don't you eat?' 'are you sick?'

I am now 28, almost 29, and lets just say that I am not thin anymore. My height has remained the same but for some reasons unknown to me, the weighing machine always says 175 lbs whenever I stand on it. My face has become larger and rounder and it has been theorized that I have been attacked by a swarm of African killer bees, thereby the stings, and thus the swelling of the cheeks. My waist is now around 36 but I tell everyone that its actually 34. I end up looking like George on Gore-Tex even if I wear the flimsiest of 'banyans' under my shirt. People now come up to me and say things like, 'oh my god, you have gained weight,' 'what are you eating?' 'are you sick?'

The only upshot of this has been that many of my friends and cousins, who are still thin as a stick, come up to me and ask me the secret of how I have 'become so healthy' all of a sudden. To this, I tell them: 'this is Karachi, dude. Anyone can 'blow up' anywhere, anytime.'

Sorry for the Inconvenient

Even though English is the official language of my country, it is not the primary (nor secondary, not even tertiary) spoken/written language of choice. Most of us in Karachi speak in Urdu, Sindhi, Punjabi, and at times in Minglish. Minglish is not any one particular language, and it can only adequately be described as a mixture of English and any other language that you happen to be speaking at the time.

For some odd reason, people in Karachi seem to think that the better they are able to speak/write in English, the cooler they will become. At this rate, an average Karachiite can be described as being lukewarm at best. Don't get me wrong, there are many of us who are best served chilled and even frozen solid. But it's from the mildly refrigerated that you will hear such remarks beginning with 'anyways,' and 'sorry for the inconvenient.' Loadshedding is pronounced load 'shading,' you pay premium 'own' top of the basic price, and everyone calls the Native Jetty 'naitee jaitee.'

So, you can probably imagine my surprise, when I heard a phrase that I had instantly put in that part of my brain marked 'vocabulary of the hot and humid,' as being absolutely correct in all forms of English; 'believe you me.'

Why Blog and First Post

This has been purely instinctive, what instincts were involved that I can't verily say. Verily, you might wonder? Who uses verily in a sentence? And who questions his own sentence in a sentence immediately following the previous sentence? For now, its just me, Omer, trying very hard to find some thing to write on this first post.

What is this blog all about, you might think when you come here? Well, to tell you the truth (as opposed to making things up on the spur of the moment, which is what I usually do when I write), I really don't have much to tell you. This is just a place where I want to document and share my thoughts and experiences about and in the city I live in. Its called Karachi and it is the biggest city (both in terms of geometry and statistics) in Pakistan. What is so different about my blog? How does it compare to all the other blogs about Karachi that are out there, or not out there, or in here, somewhere? I have no idea and I don't know no god damned code. I just want to keep things simple and maybe probably humorous, by observing and strictly reporting the lighter sides of this city of lights, some of which are off right now due to loadshedding (which is a fancy word they give to our regular power outages).

So here is my first thought: It was quite bright and sunny yesterday. That was where most of the light came to Karachi's side, from the bright and sunny sun.

More later...