To Beautiful Memories and Glorious Days

Those little little moments that have a special place in your memories and in your heart. When you have only laughed, without any thought of the world surrounding you, without any stress or worry. When you, for a second or two, just dived into Utopia. Those little little moments that you wish you could snapshot, so later on, they would just not be a part of memory but something palpable; something to be touched, to be hugged.

Those times when you were happy, in every true sense of the word. Those times when you felt optimistic and buoyant. Those times when you either sunk into a glorious, ecstatic trance, or you felt like jumping up and yelling your joy to the world. Those times that are better than the discovery of being in love. Those memories that you cherish. Those moments that are the best incentives of living; because of which, you struggle each day to keep on breathing the fresh air, to keep on living.

Those days when you wake up, with the sun’s rays falling on you, a beaming smile on your face. And you take a deep breath and are in RELAX mood. When you chill, and you love it. When you do not take offence at anybody’s remarks. When you feel that everything is perfect for once, and you do not want to be the one to change any minute detail about Nature.

Those times when, when your teachers compliment you, you feel more loved than you do when your parents do. When nothing matters except inner beauty and love and bliss. When your heart expands with joy and elation even due to small, seemingly insignficant victories. When you attain the maximum level of satisfaction and comfort. When, like me at this moment, you feel blessed and loved and praised and adored and jubilant and content.

Reflections: An Amazing Life

It was some 13 years ago that I entered Pre-Nursery as a teeny-weeny child. As my mother tells me I was pretty glad to be away from my brothers for once, and so, I was laughing. But, I expect to leave as a rather chubby teenager, grief-stricken, to leave the best home she’s ever had.

(*A very bored audience…“Another reflection…UGH”*)

I have no such definite recollections of my pre-primary days, expect for the fact that I met two of the sweetest teachers God ever created: Ms. Humaira Shahzad, and Ms. Fehmida Jamal.

As I grew up throughout the Starter and Junior sections, I met some really amazing and some maybe not so amazing teachers, but what’s true is that all of them had a hand in my social, moral, intellectual, and emotional development. Ms. Shahida, Ms. Huma Khalil, Ms. Umbreen, Ms. Rahila, Ms. Khadija Noorani, thank you for being there whenever I needed you.

Then came along another wonderful addition to this very long list: Ms. Humaira Salman, probably the strictest and yet, one of the most loving teachers I’ve had. Ms. Sainora, Ms. Saima, Ms. Nadia, Ms. Farkhunda, Ms Hemani, Ms. Abida were all like precious gems.

Ms. Farida, thank you for initiating that spark of love for one of my most favourite subjects now, which, back then, I loathed.

And Ms. Ayesha Nizami: all the dictionaries of all languages combined together don’t have sufficient words to describe your elegance and perfection!

The Middle Section, I can confidently claim, consisted up of the four years in which I grew up the most. Okay, so nobody in their right senses would call me ‘mature’, but I am relatively more grown-up now than I was back in class VI, and I want to thank Ms. Rabia Jamal for being the only teacher who acknowledged this change. (*I meant this to be serious but many laughed at the mature thingy -_- *)

Ms. Ayesha Muneeb, who taught me the meaning of the phrase ‘motherly teacher’. Ms. Qaisara, who is total sweetness overload! The amazing time I spent with Ralph, Piggy and Jack (Lord of the Flies): I owe it to Ms. Kanwal. And Ms. Beena, for her perfect-o smile, the love for Literature with which she taught ‘Ode to Autumn’ and ‘Macbeth’, and for the admirable ease with which she could handle when I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

Ms. Beenish, Ms. Iffat, Dr. Kanwal are amazing science teachers. And special thanks to Ms. Haider for being the most enthusiastic teacher ever! (*Laughs and (pleased) hoots from the audience*)

And because it was under Ms. Nighat Khalil, that I first stopped hating Urdu, so thank you for that.

And now that I realize it, thank you Ms. Sabiha for giving me a reality check and for making me a better person; for changing your opinion about me, because not many people would do that.

And…Ms. Rukhsana…well, what can I say about you? Thank you for assuming that I am a master ventriloquist, while really, I’ve tried and tried and I can’t even whistle! (*My class gets the sarcasm and laughs  *)

Ms. Sadia Abdul Qadir, you are the sweetest, the most admirable (and not to mention the prettiest) person, I’ve come across in my life. Thank you for existing! (*clapping*)

Ms. Amin, thank you for being so sincere and so flawless. (*more clapping –> proof: everybody loves her *)

Sir Zeeshan, for being a really amazing Physics teacher.

Ms. Fauzia Samreen, thank you for being patriotic, for making the driest of dry subjects (*she nods sarcastically-at least that’s what it looked like*) so much more likeable (*she starts smiling *) and for accepting an apology. I’m not the kind of person who’d normally be associated with emotions, but it really meant so much to me.

Thank you Ms Noreen, Ms Khadija for being super-cool sports teachers. Despite your fearful anger, Ms. Noreen, you rock when you’re in a good mood. (*The moment where I started laughing so hard onstage that I couldn’t speak*) And thank you Sir Asim, for forever calling me ‘Chota Huzaifa’! (*Huge Applause*)

Ms. Akbar Ali, you’re pretty cool but please stop telling me not to talk! It’s not like I will ever be perfect. (*Okay, I was really pissed off so I never said this*)

Ms. Razi, for adding fuel to my hatred every Literature block! (*It was Staff APPRECIATION Week and I did not have the liberty to insult people, so I never said this either*)

Ms. Uzma Shakeel, though you haven’t taught me ever, but you have taught my brother. Jazak Allah for being a very supportive class teacher. And Ms. Asma (*she looks really bewildered at me mentioning her*), despite the first impression I got of you being so very strict, you are actually really sweet.

Ms. Farzana Sarwar, thank you for never handing  a tardy slip if we ever were late after the Opt. Subjects. Thank you for loving Biology and for making me love it too. Is there any way, we can book you for next year??

Ms. Farzana Aziz, you don’t believe us when we say this, but you’re sooooo cuutttteeee! (*Audience laughs hysterically, claps AND hoots *) Thank you for making History bearable and for all the not-possible death threats. (If you don’t stop talking, I’ll throw you out of the window!)

Ms. Farah Bukhari: thank you for always being generous with compliments.  Ms. Gul-e-Zehra: your awesome style of teaching Urdu, your smile and your always matching bracelets are something I’ll never forget! And lastly, if I haven’t missed out anybody, Ms. Uzma Khan: You are perfection personified!

So, thank you Generation’s for giving me such an amazing life, and HAPPY BIRTH-WEEK (belated now )!!!

My Best Friend, My Worst Enemy, My Unbiological Sister, My Partner in Joy and in Crime

“The only reason God didn’t make us sisters, is because one mom couldn’t handle us both.” -Unknown

I am sister-less and yet, I have her:
She who removes all my fears away;
With her golden smile, to die for
She cheerfully lights up every day.

My decade-old best friend is she,
Ever since we first met in Grade One.
She’s crazy, but really sweet;
Like the wind she can (read: could ) run

Despite our many differences,
We are one and the same.
And when the artist in her finally steps out,
Trust me, she will rise to fame!

Cooking is my passion, eating is hers
So we definitely make a very good pair.
Give her choc.chip pie, and she’ll be yours,
But remember to handle with love and care!

When Best Friends Tear You Apart

In such instances, I like to quote Ajay Devgn’s character Prithviraj from Bol Bachchan: “Tum logon ne meray dil ko kuchla hai, ronda hai, tora hai! Ab yeh pehalwan…tum logon ki hadiyaan toray ga! I will put the last nailpolish in the coffin KYON KAAAYYY (and then something like) ataa maaji satak li hai!!”

This translates into: “You people have trampled on my heart, ripped it apart, broken it! Now this mighty…will break your bones! I will put the last nail’polish’ in the coffin BECAUSE I have lost it!!”

Okay, the situation is not so melodramatic. It’s nothing to do with my real best friend in fact…Just that ‘Best Friends’ fits in better than ‘Friends’ or ‘Good Friends’. This talks about multiple incidents with quite a few people, that have taken place over the past 2-3 years.

WHEN BEST FRIENDS TEAR YOU APART

When Best Friends tear you apart
And your world is falling down,
Take a deep breath and relax.
‘Cause there’s a new world to be found.

When Best Friends bail on you
And you turn into a laughing-stock,
Gather up your courage.
It’s high time they got a shock.

When Best Friends take offence
And petty things don’t seem so trivial anymore,
Leave them, it’s for the best.
After all, it’s your heart they tore.

When Best Friends spread rumours, untrue
And you’re suspected for things you’d never do,
Boldly, take up a stand.
JUST DUMP THEIR HEADS DOWN THE LOO!

When Best Friends tear you apart
And your world is falling down,
Take a deep breath and relax.
‘Cause there’s a new world to be found.

 

Media Influences the Youth in an Adverse Manner: Oh really?

A famous man, known to many as Malcolm X, once said: “The media’s the most powerful entity on Earth. They have the power to make the innocent guilty and the guilty innocent, and that’s power, because they control the minds of the masses.”

Most people do believe that media, in any form, is negative. It corrupts the ‘innocent’ minds of the younger generation. Vulgarity, violence, and hatred are all that are depicted nowadays. The teens choose to follow the latest fashion trends, at the expense of their innocence and purity. The gap between them and their parents is an ever-widening one. The media definitely influences the youth in an adverse manner.

Nonetheless, as Aesop declared: “Every truth has two sides; it is as well to look at both before we commit ourselves to either.” I, thus, believe that media is not always a bad influence. If we look at the flip-side of the coin, it is pretty beneficial to adults and to youth.

Everyone is aware of the daily happenings in the city, the chaos and turmoil that is prevalent since the start of 2013 and people are taking the necessary precautions. My question is, what made them aware of all this? It was the media. News channels keep us aware of not only local happenings but global issues as well. People rushed forward to donate when the Japanese tsunami was projected by the media. News of inventions and new technology is brought to us by none other than the media.

People highlight that media entertainment is not age or culture appropriate. But I say, watching movies like ‘Taare Zameen Par’, which focuses on dyslexic children, is an excellent and very informative way to spend quality family time. I can vouch for current Pakistani drama serials at least, that they are a very accurate mirror-image of daily life. They promote many priceless messages, which are necessary, especially for teenage girls. While advertisements may be irritating, the PSAs-about issues like smoking, frequent mobile usage, conserving water and electricity and common diseases-that pop up from time to time, between shows on television, are helpful and enlightening.

Moreover, cooking shows, such as those aired on ‘Masala TV’ are useful for new brides, or brides-to-be. Watching healthy sports like cricket, football, hockey and the Olympic games encourages the youth, and especially the boys, to live a healthy, playful life, because we all know that: “All work and no play, makes Jack a dull boy.”

Besides television, cell phones and the internet are also advantageous, if used suitably. Cell phones connect you to your family and friends, and ease contact within times of emergency. Social networking websites, like Facebook and Orkut, can help establish connections with family members abroad. Other websites like LinkedIn can assist in finding jobs. Tutorials on YouTube, such as those for software like Adobe Photoshop and Flash, are very handy and instructive.

Therefore, the media will always be an influence, but it cannot control us unless we ourselves hand it over control. In essence, there is a vast difference between influence and control. The media can be a good thing-if we let it be so.

Floating Islands

I made this totally amazing dish for Eid this year (Technically, by the Islamic lunar calendar, it was last year.) And well, I loved it. My mother didn’t. But I did receive compliments from a few other people as well. Although, I do suspect most of them were just to keep me happy. So I want you all to try it and give me some REAL feedback. Please.

Floating Islands are basically poached meringues floating on a pool of liquid. In most recipes, the liquid has the thin consistency of milk (somewhat like it), but in this recipe, it’s more custard-ish.

So here goes:

Ingredients:
500 ml milk
1 tsp vanilla essence
3 eggs, separated
A pinch of salt
70 grams caster sugar
100 ml cream
Caramel syrup, to serve

You are gonna need at least (The recipe called for even less. But it began finishing so I added more and it turned out perfect.) 500 ml of milk (I used normal, full-fat, pasteurized milk that comes in the box, like the Tetra-Pak packaging.) Add 1 tsp of vanilla essence and heat the mixture on a stove for at least 3-4 minutes. Keep aside.

Whisk the whites of 3 eggs (like MAD) until fully frothy (you know what it looks like). Now add a pinch of salt and approximately, half (or a little less) of 70 grams of caster sugar. Whisk like mad again.

Now for the tough part! Put the milk on the stove again at low heat. Using a rounded tablespoon, spoon 3-4 balls of the egg white mixture onto the milk, gently. Cook for around a minute. Turn over using a silicon/plastic spatula (rubber is too flexible for easy handling and metal destroys everything). Cook for around a minute more. You’ll know when it’s done, because the colour changes slightly and it becomes ‘solid’ (You’ll understand when you see it.) Take the meringues out on a paper towel to dry. Repeat until all the egg whites have been used up.

Strain the milk.

Beat the yolks of the three eggs and the remaining sugar.

Simmer the milk and the sugar-yolk mixture. STIR CONSTANTLY AND DO NOT LEAVE FOR EVEN A FEW SECONDS. That is the only mistake I made, and I ended up with a very lumpy custard. It almost totally destroyed the look. *sniff* :’( But it made no difference to the taste, thank God!

Remove it from a heat after sometime (4-5 minutes). Let it cool until it’s totally at room temperature. Add 100 ml of cream and mix well.

Pour the custardish liquid out into the glass serving bowl. Put the meringues on the top. Pour caramel syrup on the top (Just heat 150 grams of sugar+100 ml of water until very very light golden, and pour immediately). Serve, Enjoy! Oh…and give me honest feedback please

 

The Spoiled Birthday

“Hmm…All of you are invited to my 6^th birthday party, held on the day after tomorrow. There will be cakes, and ribbons, and balloons. Please wear blue-and-white clothes like Cinderella and do bring my gift along. Entrance by invitation only!” jotted down my sister, in her loopy, scrawling handwriting, pronouncing each word carefully with her little tongue stuck out and her dark-brown bangs falling over her face.

“Hey girl! What are you doing?” I said as I walked in the room.

“Writing out invitations to my birthday party on Saturday,” she replied. “Will you please, please, pretty please post these for me today?”

“Sure I will!” I ruffled her hair playfully, and took the pile of brightly coloured envelopes from her. My sister could be a total brat sometimes, but she was, after all, my younger sister and I was almost always ready to do anything for her.

It was thus, that I made the biggest mistake of my life. I forgot! It totally escaped my mind that the invitations had to be posted today, and it was not until the next day that I remembered that I had yet to post them. As soon as I did remember, I rushed to the post office and completed my task, heaving a sigh of relief. Thank God I remembered, otherwise, my sister’s anger could be a really terrible thing to face.

The house became a zoo, as we started the decorations for the party. My mother, brother, father and I worked endlessly to hang up the never-ending bunch of ribbons in exactly the ‘right’ places, as our little Ms. Bossy birthday girl, stood supervising, hand placed on her hip, and ordered us about. Our lungs hurt from blowing up the millions of balloons that we had to, just because the birthday girl wanted them.

Even the menu had to be perfect! “I shall want pizza, lemon slush, strawberries with chocolate fondue, chips, brownies, oh…and gingerbread men, and your chocolate chip cookies, Mama,” she ordered, as we stared at her helplessly. “And, I want my birthday cake (and it should be Cinderella) from you!” she turned on to me.

The day arrived, as our tension mounted up to the peak. However, I could not help smiling as she pranced about in her gleaming, white Cinderella costume, while I layered the blue fondant onto the magnificent two-tier cake. It had hundreds and thousands, edible fairy pearls, and an edible Cinderella figurine on top. It was my best creation so far, and I could not wait to show it off!

Time ticked by, but the doorbell never rang. My sister had resorted to sitting glum on the sofa, awaiting her guests, but they never came. We were all pretty disappointed. I could sense danger approaching when I saw her lips quivering, her cheeks bright red, and her pupils getting all watery. It did come! “Nobody likes me!” she wailed out. I tried consoling her but in vain. Upset, we left the decorations as they were, deciding we would take them off the next day.

But, the next day turned out to be a bigger surprise for all of us. As the clock struck twelve in the noon, voices started singing “Happy Birthday to you!” outside our home. As I went to open the door, a flock of Cinderella-idolizing girls rushed in, with a couple of mothers following behind. The Birthday Guests were here!

My sister, who had till then been sulking around in her pyjamas, was dumbstruck. We later discovered from one of the mothers that they had received the letter only two days ago, and thus they assumed that ‘day after tomorrow’ was today. “Oh My God! I forgot!” I cursed myself, praying at the same time that nobody would question me. But, the Truth had to come out, and it did. My sister glared at me with a look of murderous rage in her eyes, as I stood, blushing furiously with embarrassment. The rest of the people were laughing so hard that they were unable to speak. As we later termed it, it was indeed an amusing misunderstanding. But not so amusing for me, because I was the one who had to face the brunt for my carelessness and my sister gave me THE silent treatment for weeks after the incident. Never am I, ever, going to procrastinate again!