...On Leaving Pindi

Two days from now, I am leaving Rawalpindi. For good.

All in all, I've spent at least 8 years of my life here, and now me and my family are packing up and moving to Lahore. Which is something I've been looking forward to for a long while; Lahore being my favorite city. But still, it's not without a (very) heavy heart that I say goodbye to what has been my surrogate hometown.

We first moved to Rawalpindi when I was in 7th grade, and I liked the place at first sight. Our house was in Harley Street (which makes me a bona fide Harley Street medical practitioner now), and the place was quiet enough, with just enough kids to play with, just enough roof space to fly kites, and just enough of a lawn to sneak out into during the afternoon nap timings. School was 2 minutes walk away, and the thela-wala outside school accepted IOUs. The house next to ours was perennially filed with carpenters, so we indulged in custom-made cricket bats and wickets. My favorite places in Pindi were the Army Central Library, which I ransacked, and Bombeat on Bank Road, that sold John Denver tapes and fueled my early and thankfully short lived boy-band craze.

The second time I moved to Pindi was as a cadet in AM College, and for the next 5 years, Pindi's been my homebase even though my family's shifted homes thrice. I can't even begin to count the number of miles I've clocked walking to and from Saddar, Murree Road, Tench and my hostels. Sadaf, City Hut, Bunny Chowk, KFC, Namak Mandi, Cinepax and Variety Books; i've probably spent more time here than in my dorm room.

And then there's Islamabad, every time the weather was benign, I could always count on three or four people to bunk their wards and head off to Pir Sohawa or the lake or Daman-e-Koh or just about anywhere. The "Lake View Park Fiasco", the "Quaid-e-Azam University Saga", the "Affair Of The Pizza Hut" are just some of the stories that I'll be recalling with my friends decades from now.

Even though, or maybe because Islamabad is a "planned" city, I've always manages to get lost in it. The sectors are confusing, the roads are all alike and the signboards all point the same way. Maybe that's why I like it so much, it lets me wander freely and in the end always leads me to where I want to go. The drives along Kashmir Highway, 7th Avenue and the Murree Expressway were and will remain memorable.

I've written somewhere earlier about the fact that moving house every two to three years precludes any long-term friendships and makes it easy for social retards like me to lose contact with all my friends and acquaintances of the previous city. But Pindi's finally got me. The friends I've made here, especially in AM College, are the don't-you-dare-lose-touch-or-ELSE!! kind.

And I sure as hell ain't planning on losing touch. Both with my friends, and with Pindi.

Books Of The Week, American Pastoral, Philip Roth. How To Be Good,Nick Hornby.
Movies Of The Week, Alice In Wonderland, Shutter Island, The Hurt Locker, Clash Of The Titans.
Songs Of The Week, The Wallflowers Discography, Karen Dalton, Mehboob Qawwal.

...Of Sombre Springs and Silent Movies

Springs upon us.Already the sun's taking liberties and the Narcissus is disappearing,lost in it's own beauty.A recent trip to Islamabad(documented in the last post) told me full well that winter's packing up,leaving stray yellowing leaves in its wake.In a few days,my beloved cold,foggy,sleet blown mornings will be a thing of the past,replaced by the summer sun,rising in all it's furious majesty,in Faiz's words,reawakening the wounds of the night like a dagger.
Every year,spring's the start of my own kind of spring fever.Now the image I gleaned of spring fever was from the Wodehouse novel of the same name.Namely,when the heart,weary of drudgery and routine,longs for some adventure,some romance,anything to get it out of the rut of daily existance.That's how most of the young,or young at heart,feel when the buds start a'blossomin'.But not yours truly...
Now,I know my tastes are slightly stranger than the average Joe,but in spring I go completely haywire.A strange brooding melancholy engulfs me.The desire to lie low and stay there's foremost thought on my mind.Spring turns my thoughts to Dostoevsky,Johnny Cash and Rafi singing "Tukde Hain Mere Dil Ke".I'm a confirmed introvert most of the time,but spring sees me outdo myself in introversion.Wonder why???

Last night I returned from a shopping trip from a dvd shop that'd been raided a month earlier for copyright infringement.As it was the only shop in the Rawalpindi-Islamabad region that catered to my taste in films,the closure had hit me hard.But as soon as I saw it's bright neon flashing again,I made a beeline for it.After spending a whole lotta cash,I took my stash back to my hostel,where it was inspected by one of my dorm mates,who immediately declared me unfit for human consumption.The reason...my stash was full of silent movies.
Now why do I find these relics of a technologically deficient past so enticing?Why do those grainy three reelers hold me spellbound for hours upon end?Can I find a reason??
Yes I can,several in fact..But I won't be sharing 'em now.Some other time,when I'm fresh from seeing Nosferatu or Metropolis or Intolerance, you lot will be lucky enough to hear my views.


Song Of The Week: Ye Ab Aap Sochiye(Rafi and Asha)
Movie Of The Week: Bringing Up Baby
Discovery Of The Week: The Spellbinding Hiking Track In F7 Islamabad

...Of Yesterday

Yesterday...
I woke up in a pretty foul mood.What with a cosmic mix-up of fate and circumstance,I wasn't allowed to go home on the weekend.The prospect of a whole sunday of idleness had turned my thoughts ugly and I was just lying down again,with the hope of drowning my grouch in sleep,when my phone rang.It was a friend of mine,telling me that a coupla guys were heading out to Islamabad to shoot a movie and I could tag along if I wanted to.Talk about Manna from heaven...

Took me 5 minutes to change,and while i was busy sprucing up,suddenly,I sensed a subtle change..It started with the faint patter of spring rain,then came the heady scent of rain-kist earth,and to top it off,the radio started playing Paper Moon by Ella Fitzgerald !! There was some hope in this world after all..

We set off on a trip that I count among some of the best I have ever undertaken.If I ever get to heaven(a pretty thin chance,if ever there was one),here's how I'd like it to be;

Driving along Kashmir Highway,with the spruce leaves turning bright red.Cold splashy rain drumming on the car roof,and the radio playing "Mere Dil Ke Taar" by Mehdi Hassan,followed by "Neend Mujhe na Aaye",by Hemant and Lata.I hope someone up there's noting down my order...
We alighted on the foot of the Margallas.While waiting for the rest of the filmmaking crew,we hiked up one of the hills.Again a glimpse of paradise,yellow leaves falling and flailing in the wind,the steady rain poking through my clothes and Naseem Begum singing "Dil chaahta Hai Mera,Kho Jayen HumYahaan"...
When the rest of the lot arrived,we set up shop.Me and the friend of mine got drafted in as extras,henchmen of a mafia don,complete with the necessary shades and firearms.All we had to do was follow the Don,grimace a bit and tote our guns,but yours truly hasn't won the Worst Acting Oscar three years in a row for nothing.
I was gleefully smiling all the way,winking at the camera. Then ther was a scene of me being gunned down by a sniper.Since I was wearing a borrowed jacket for that one,I rolled around pretty liberally till said jacket was dripping wet.Unfortunately,my jeans had also gotten moist in some pretty strategic locations(if you know what I mean).Once again the jacket came in handy.I can tell you from experience,there ain't no better absorbent tha a Vicuna jacket if you want to wipe your.....erm,you get the picture.
Then,saying goodbye to the filming crew,I headed off to do some shopping.Now the type of shopping I do merits my friends' name for me: "Maghaz".I set off to a record store and got my hands on some cds I had been looking for for ages.Since it was getting pretty late,and the rain wasn't letting up,and we hadn't eaten anything since last night,my friend's exhortions to speed it up were getting more and more vorciforous.But you can't drag a kid out of a candy store that easily,can you..
Having ditched 'em,enjoying the rain,my eyes caught sight of a "rare dvds" rack in a shop,and i zeroed in.Imagine my surprise when there,stacked before my eyes,was a bunch of DVDs I had been searching for since Time Immemorial !!! Boy,did I gobble 'em up!
Half an hour later,having spent 1700 of my hard earned cash,toting my shopping bags,I headed back.But sweet Mother Nature wasn't done spreading sweetness and light.On the way back,there was the same rain,the same brilliant foliage,and the radio outdid itself by playing Lata's "Mausam Hai Aashqaana".
As I lay down to sleep,with the steady rain knocking on my window,a happy dilemma presented itself.Should I fall aslumber with Nat King Cole palying Honeysuckle Rose.Or should Duke Ellington lull me to sleep with Mood Indigo.Or Should I let Joan Baez pray for me to stay Forever Young.In the end,I gave in to temptation and fell asleep with Ustad Barkat Ali Khan singing "Dono Jahaan Teri Mohabbat Main Haar Ke"
But that was Yesterday.....

My shopping list,if anyone's interested;
Cds by Joan Baez,Nat King Cole,Duke Ellington and A Faiz collection
Dvds,Bringing Up Baby,Two Marx Brothers flicks,Arsenic And Old Lace and the original Ladykillers...