springsteen's muse.

Badlands


Lights out tonight,
Trouble in the heartland,
Got a head on collision,
Smashin' in my guts, man,
I'm caught in a cross fire,
That I don't understand,
I don't give a damn,
for the same old played out scenes,
I don't give a damn,
for just the in betweens,
Honey, I want the heart, I want the soul,
I want control right now
Talk about a dream,
try to make it real
You wake up in the night,
with a fear so real,
Spend your life waiting,
for a moment that just don't come,
Well, don't waste your time waiting,


Badlands, you gotta live it everyday,
Let the broken hearts stand
As the price you've gotta pay,
We'll keep pushin' till it's understood,
and these badlands start treating us good.


Workin' in the fields
till you get your back burned,
Workin' 'neath the wheel
till you get your facts learned,
Baby, I got my facts
learned real good right now,
Poor man wanna be rich,
rich man wanna be king,
And a king ain't satisfied,
till he rules everything,
I wanna go out tonight,
I wanna find out what I got
I believe in the love that you gave me,
I believe in the hope that can save me,
I believe in the faith
and I pray, that someday it may raise me,
Above these badlands
Badlands, you gotta live it everyday,
Let the broken hearts stand
As the price you've gotta pay,
We'll keep pushin' till it's understood,
and these badlands start treating us good.
For the ones who had a notion,
A notion deep inside,
That it ain't no sin to be glad you're alive
I wanna find one face that ain't looking through me
I wanna find one place,
I wanna spit in the face of these badlands


Badlands, you gotta live it everyday,
Let the broken hearts stand
As the price you've gotta pay,
We'll keep pushin' till it's understood,
and these badlands start treating us good.

if again we shall meet, in this rural retreat...

After six months of public transport, the two of us pooled in our resources and bought our pajero mini. There were many places we had plans on haunting. Nefarious acts of debauchery featured high on our list of priorities, but somehow we found ourselves on our way to the Malir Cantt. A one and a half hour journey, with petrol at eighty six rupees a liter, to a place that had little to offer beyond dirt tracks and termite infested, archaic bungalows of some forgone era… why then were we here?
This was where he had grown up. There stood his home, his tree, his chicken pen. This was the place that brought back the cherished memories of his late mother. It was only the highest honor to have been there as well…

I cannot recall the exact month, but it must have been the August of 2001. We were returning from Alipur. Me, Ami, Baba, Amblo, Asim and a 29 inch Sony Trinitron that Baba had bought from Japan many years ago, our only salvation, our only form of entertainment during the three scorching months that we had spent in our village. That’s, when it happened. Two excessively worn out tyres of our 89’ Corolla burst violently. Torn tempered rubber, metal and asphalt canoodled in the dark. Then all was quiet. The situation was dire, with only one spare tyre. Why then were we all smiling?
After years of limbo something had finally come along. A victory. With the odds stacked up against us, we had seen this through, we had not dismounted. The election had been won. We were returning home like victorious heroes and the broken wheel of a chariot was not enough to dampen our spirits on that truly auspicious night.

And whether we shall meet again I know not.
If we do meet again, why, we shall smile;
If not, why, then, this parting was well made.
Julius Caesar

the drifter speaks...

noon: zahoor saab, what say you to marrying a foreigner?
zahoor saab: marry her and then divorce her.
noon: i'm sorry i don't follow.
zahoor saab: the sawab that you get by converting her into a muslim will outweigh the gunnah you'll get from the divorce.

noon: *no comment*

Corollary I

I address you tonight, not as the president of the United States, not as the leader of a country, but as a citizen of humanity.
We are faced with the very gravest of challenges, the Bible calls this day Armageddon, the end of all things and yet for the first time in the history of the planet a species has the technology to prevent its own extinction, all of you praying with us need to know, that everything that can be done to prevent this disaster is being called into service.
The human thirst for excellence and knowledge, every step up the ladder of science, every adventurous reach into space, all of our combined modern technologies and imaginations, even the wars that we’ve fought have provided the tools to wage this terrible battle, through all the chaos that is our history, through all the wrongs and the discords, through all the pain and suffering, through all of our times there is one thing that has nourished our souls and elevated our species above its origins… and that is our courage.
the dreams of an entire planet are focused tonight on those 14 brave souls, traveling into the heavens and may we all, citizens the world over, see these events through.
Godspeed and Good luck to you.

are you for real?!

Yesterday’s US magazine finally found its way to me (I stole it for bathroom reading purposes). Having read free verse so abject and articles so soporific I came across the feather in their cap, the cherry on their tart, the icing on their cake, the mongrel in their kennel of gold; an article, one titled ‘perennial fashion’ by Iqra Asad. I want you to see for yourself the kind of material impressionable young girls are being exposed to or on the flipside tell me, if I am overreacting (extremely unlikely, but nonetheless possible). I will be quoting directly from the magazine as to avoid any equivocations. For your kind consideration:
‘Our motto – skin is in
… After all, if it’s all about YOU, and YOU are hidden by cloth, how can you expect people to see your individuality? Fortunately, there are ways to create the illusion of being clothed. The basic method is to discard unwanted bits of cloth from around the body, allowing YOU to shine through.
Dupatta
Do not worry, by no means am I asking you to wear the monstrosity that covers you. I know how much it upsets you when backward parents and retarded institutions compel you to wear the ungainly thing…’
Obviously, there is more and of course I’m quoting out of context but the thing is these words were on the magazine. The average individual on the street, that fop on the clapham omnibus does not have it in him/her to decode satire and will read, ‘less is more / nanga hi changa’ and start parading naked without a moments delay (this is of course the worst case scenario).
Ms. Iqra Asad, if you should somehow come across this article. You have it in you to mould the minds of the youth of this country. There is no greater responsibility, rest assured, than that of having a say and a stake in the future of your nation. To be imparting knowledge, in any shape or form, is the greatest form of service and should be carried out to the greatest benefit of the youth and nation. Savvy?
Now, then… *places monocle on cancerous mahogany table*… I have to go study under a street light.

would you believe it?

Where the distant oceans sing and rise to the plain
In this dry and troubled country your beauty remains
Down from the mountain road where the highway rolls to dark
'Neath Allah's blessed rain we remain worlds apart

Bruce Springsteen - Worlds Apart.

just then i realised...

Welcome to the jazz menu.
For balance inquiry please dial 1…
*presses 2* lets get a move on…
Please enter the 14 digit code from the back of your voucher.
*enters code*
‘Your account has been recharged, two hundred fifty eight rupees. Your account has unlimited validity as long as you… well, something’
*presses 4* tick tock.
‘thank you, good bye’
.
.
.
.
.
Hang on a tick… rupees 258… thereby implying that I have been taxed 42 rupees. 42 rupees. 14%. A 5% increase from 9%. Mother of pearl!! That’s a decent lunch, for some.

wry smile and small talk...

There’s so much pain in Springsteen’s muse,
Chili Peppers play harps on drug abuse,
And Sumner will strike chords so true,
Of cholera dreams and me and …

Perhaps you too have heard them preach?
Does each strum seep, does each vow reach?
Tonight, lets delve in their words once written,
And see what became of the boy once bitten…

Most said he was a liar,
that someday he’d burn in fire.
That for all sporadic ramblings,
He was a loaded gun for hire.
They said he was a con,
So fake, each smile he’d worn,
But for all that they found lacking,
they asked about once he was gone.

And when the skies were rent asunder,
He raised his gaze in all this wonder,
And his mind’s eye said if you pander,
Then they shall continue to slander.

So he paid heed and in his drifting,
Left the world and social sifting,
Looked for reprieve and ones communion,
Looked for his own and his own union.

Shunned mendacity, shunned awesome lies,
Shunned the smog that scorched the skies,
Watched the birds, their lonely view,
And sometimes he’d think of…

With time and tide our boy forgotten,
Greed preyed on hearts and hearts turned rotten,
And came that night when life itself seemed fleeting and terse,
And the boy started his numerous excursions into verse

That boy now a man, laid awake cringing with the throes
Wondering if underneath this shattered sky
If he should somehow fall asleep,
Would her eyes still close?

‘The Lord bless thee and keep thee. May He shine his countenance upon thee. May He be good to thee and grant thee His peace.’ Ameen