A Generation Has Ended

One month since my grandmother passed away. Time flies.

We were used to seeing her around, in our house, so much that its more of disbelief at her absence rather than sadness.

I was the only grandchild out of so many who spent the most time with her because others were far away or too young. And it is something I will cherish forever. I have lived all my life with her, growing up watching her, learning from her. Always helping her with her chores, always just a call from her window away. Ive taken down Quran for her from the top shelf because at one time I got taller than her, Ive pressed her legs, Ive made her breakfast everyday at sharp 9am for two years, Ive helped her walk, Ive written countless letters for her to her daughters n then going to the post office on my bicycle, telling her time after every minute, Ive also got annoyed sometimes but only when I was older n more worldly.

I never went to an exam before going to her first n asking for her prayers. She once wrote A-Z n showed it to me n only X was missing. She knew my complete schedule, when I'm coming back from office n university, where I'm going. She took interest in everything I did,why I'm wearing brown nail color n why not red :-)

The memories are endless but I'm glad I have them. I don't want them to faint away but recalling them is too painful.

My grandmother was kind; that's a word fit for only her and no other. She was a wonderful woman, always helpful to everyone, never hurting anyone n this is my own observation from when I was a little kid n not a general statement. The simplicity of her life will not be seen anymore. Now that I think of it, I was close to old times because of her.

A generation has ended with her, a connection lost. Her loss will always be felt but shes resting in peace n in a much better place now so its a great reassurance. May her soul rest in peace.

Reading, Parallel Reading, To-Read

Its weekend, it’s raining, and I’m here in my room blogging. The weather is beautiful; I feel like dressing up, going out, have sheesha, chat uselessly, look around, window shop, buy a thing or two and have good food. While I wasn’t doing all this, I tried to take a nap but sleep won’t come. So I lied in my bed and stared blankly at the thing on my eye level – my book shelf.

Looking at it made me remember once again that I haven’t been reading much lately. I have so much to read but I somehow always end up doing something else instead of reading. And I know I should read more and something always tugs at my conscience when I think about it. So I thought I should write down a bit about my reading activities; to sum up my reading status.

I watched this movie Liberal Arts today and there was a dialogue between two ardent readers, one of them said, “I love trees ‘cause they give us books”. And I wondered while there was once a time I was such an eager reader, I wish I could say this with the same passion. I hope I get back to my bookworm self again soon. I guess it’s because everything is so modernized now that you would rather watch a sitcom or play a game on your smartphone than sit patiently and read a bit.

And then there is parallel reading. Maybe it’s because I want to read so many books and can’t finish one quickly enough that I start reading another. Apart from that, there are so many books I have that are unread and a whole lot of others are on my to-read list. I thought I will write down all the names of these books but I want to wrap up my post. So that’s it.    

Ending with the weather talk; I feel Christmasy, even though I’m neither Christian nor in the west. It’s like watching all those serials and movies with Holidays and Christmas part in them have finally crept a little into my subconscious.  

Arjun Basu Inspired

And when at times she kissed him on the lips, touched him tenderly or wiped the sweat from his forehead with her palm, she could see in his eyes a mixed expression of disbelief at being loved by her and the delicate feeling of taking in the intimacy of the moment; and yet, his eyes gave away nothing. 

Arjun Basu (@arjunbasu) creates 140-character short stories on Twitter. My creation is simply an inspiration from his work and not an attempt to be his match at all.

Book Review: Moth Smoke by Mohsin Hamid

I read The Reluctant Fundamentalist before Moth Smoke. Perhaps I read the former at a time when my mind wasn’t open enough to understand the concept of the book clearly but I remember not liking it. In discussions, I gave the reason that I found its title and cover to be deceptive.

I read Moth Smoke years after The Reluctant Fundamentalist. In the beginning, I was of the view that this book is also on its way to make it to my resentment list but I kept reading it with interest nevertheless. I have finished reading the book today and I conclude that it was absolutely wonderful. I’m totally impressed; not only by the story but by the style of writing as well. While the story was good on a different level, it was the writing itself that was persuasive and memorable. Hamid’s command over the language and the story-building was strong without being overly done. I liked how the characters and their personalities were related to the Aurangzeb and Darashikoh of the Mughal Empire and how with only one passage in the start and one in the end. The story could have done without this context too, but then again, it became all the more better with this reference. Moreover, there were other, smaller bits and pieces too which were interesting like the name Julius Superb and Mumtaz’s character. While reading, I was critical on some points but reaching till the end, those shortcomings mattered but little.

Like his second book (which I read first), the story ends without an end… open to interpretation. Now after this, I feel I should give The Reluctant Fundamentalist another chance and I’m sure I’ll have a different opinion about the book after that.

Some Things from My Family Archives

The ancestral document stating that I'm from Kabul from my maternal side; the descendent of commander-in-chief of Taimoor Shah, son of Ahmed Shah Abdali, the founder of Durrani Dynasty in Afghanistan.
Explains my fascination with Pashtuns n Afghanistan in particular. I have traces of Afghan blood running in me. Proud!

How I Chose My Pen Name

My pen name Lady Asma is inspired from a fictional character of the same name from Tariq Ali's Shadows of the Pomegranate Tree. I came across it while i was reading the book. Lady Asma from the book was the young wife of the patriarch of Al-Hudayl family. She was a Christian convert and given the name Asma on her conversion. She received the title 'Lady' because of her marriage to the patriarch; Abdullah was his name as far as i remember. I liked my name mentioned in this Moorish Islamic book. The title 'Lady' is self-proclaimed :)

Sad

One day you come across something and realize that you may look and feel as much of a high schooler as you want but there will always be some things for which you are over-aged and/or short of time. And all the times you wanted to grow up quickly flashes through your mind; all the things you could do but didn’t do or didn’t get a chance. But you’re an adult now… and it’s all grim, downhill from here.