As I explored the Northern Areas of Pakistan- A bit about Haripur [Part 1]

They said that you haven’t seen a Heaven on earth. I claimed that I did, which stood true until I actually saw a Heaven on earth.

After spending a lot of money on my tour to Ireland and later Dubai, a moment of realization struck me and I decided to explore Pakistan’s northern areas. A friend of mind is an avid traveler and likes to spend a week or so in northern areas of Pakistan almost every year. I due to certain reasons cannot travel with her so I decided why not go along with my family. We decided to spend a night in Islamabad and then start our heavenly voyage [I must confess that I was pretty clueless and unsure about the beauty that awaited me. I pretty much relied on the stories told by my friends and pictures taken by their cameras which I thought were edited.]

So from Islamabad, we finally began our humid journey as it was August and things have to be humid because the Mother Nature says so. Due to my lack of interest in knowing the routes we were to take up, I remember dribs and drabs of our journey which include a very prominent stop over at a railway station, some cows, actually many cows, Hassan Abdal, Abbottabad, Mansehra, Hazara, Wah Cantt [not necessarily in the same order though] and then Haripur. Yes, Haripur. O My God, Haripur. My memory couldn’t be clearer about anything but Haripur. I don’t think so that I have seen a road so gorgeous. It was a stunning road with trees, on the left and right, bowing down their lush green stems as if they were welcoming us. As if they were sheltering us from the blistering sun as the sun was pretty much busy with battling against thick clouds, much like ice cream scoops, to show its enormity. However, the clouds defeated the sun and kept us safe from the could-be-oh-so-blistering-hot situation. On the left and on the right side, the lush green fields were fluttering with the cool breeze. Their momentary static position made me feel as if lush green carpets were covering the extended plains of Haripur. And how can I forget the enormous mountains that guarded Haripur, not bowing but standing out with pride. The sheltered Hairpur, the bowing trees, the lush green fields, the enormous mountains, and the hide and seek of clouds and sun, no wonder Haripur overwhelmed me! 

Some visuals [probably not going to help you visualize what I did] 

The gorgeous Haripur road

Haripur Hazara, Pakistan.

 

Not sure when am I going to writer Part 2 and many other parts to come. 

As Rhett Butler intelligently puts..

“What most people don’t seem to realize is that there is just as much money to be made out of the wreckage of a civilization as from the upbuilding of one” 

           Rhett Butler being notorious in a much intelligent manner.

War

“All wars are sacred. To those who have to fight them. If the people who started wars didn’t make them sacred, who would be foolish enough to fight them. But, no matter what rallying cries the orators give to the idiots who fight, no matter what noble purposes they assign to wars, there is never but one reason for a war. And that is money. All wars are in reality money squabbles. But so few people ever realize it”

               Rhett Butler to Scarlet O’ Hara in “Gone with the wind”

 

3 AM, rain and we meet again

Usually, once I get into my bed, I seldom slip out of it. After spending each day with immense responsibilities, I can’t give up on bed at night. But right now, I managed to crawl out of my bed and made my way to my pink table [Yes, I believe in adding colors to my life, most importantly pink].  To do what? This:

This sad looking man with an extremely hopeless face made me crawl all the way out of my bed and post him on my stupid blog. Have you ever experienced an agonizing day when you are being showered with a never ending series of problems and issues that are somehow beyond your control no matter how hard you try to solve them? I had my share of this agonizing day. Fortunately or unfortunately, it was raining today and for a split second, I completely lost it and experienced myself in the most helpless state of life. I was standing in the middle of a service lane, with crazy rain pouring at me, thinking why doesn’t the world ends today? Like right now?

After 9 hours:

Its 3am and my room is annoyingly cold. Some semblance of peace is prevailing.

And the world didn’t end.

There was no ‘right now’.

For now, this is it. Me, this sad looking Super Mario’s cousin and rain!

Funny thing is that I haven’t been able to change even this bit of ‘right now’..

[No, you pathetic loser. He is not my future husband or current husband]

Roger Federer for now!

Roger Federer after winning his 17th Grand Slam

Rishta Rishta Rishta Rishta Rishta.. OMGOMGOMGOMG STOP!

I am sitting with a friend and highly annoyed. She is going on with her rant as I continue with this stupid post because she is pissing me off with her rishta bakwaas: [Urdu and English]

Mera rishta aya.. Main nay na ker di. Waisay I wouldn’t like to get married because men oppress women. Per mera rishta aya. His family was like this and that. They asked me this that questions. They rejected me because I am fat. O God, my parents wouldn’t let me breathe because of these rishtas. I am clearly not interested.

I entered home and my parents were like lerka daikh lo. I went out of house right away. Then there was some other rishta. O god, so many rishtas. I didn’t say yes. They rejected me. I have been rejected. I can’t go through this painful rishta thing. HAHAHAHA this rishta I had, man such a funny family. I am sharing my rishta story here. O god, the potential rishta’s father asked me beti what you plan to do? I was like yeah as if you really care. Then there was this rishta.

Rishta. Rishta. Rishta. Rishta.

Sounds similar, no? I bet one of your very good/close/obnoxious friends would have such a never ending overwhelmingly bullshit story to share every time you meet her. “Her” being very exclusive because I haven’t seen men boasting about it. They only work on making up stories like ‘Yaar wo bachi, ek dum fit. Number day gayi bhai ko”. Yeah. All my friends do that. I like how they wouldn’t shut up about it knowing that I clearly know that no such thing has happened.

Anyways, so coming back to this friend of yours. Yes I know how things go about when it comes to getting woman a husband in our society. It isn’t easy. You have to fake everything about your personality to make an impression that you might turn out to be a very good wife or bahu which you eventually fail at because things aren’t that dreamy in a married life. I am not married but I speak out of many cases around me. The typical showing up in front of random people and wait for their rejection/acceptance and their extremely weird questions is an excruciating task but one has to go through it.

But OMYGOD with such women who would go on and on and on AND ON about their rishta stories. I mean if you are in so much demand and there are so many rishtas around, why don’t you get married my child? Why making someone’s life hell with your stupid extremely stupid rishta jargon which eventually ends on ‘Oh I was rejected”. You know what? People might not be very interested in knowing your rishta episodes because they are so lame and useless. Don’t you wish some privacy regarding such matters? Do you really feel comfortable sharing your rishta episodes with an end result of rejection? Or are you trying to gain sympathy for something that happens to hundreds of girls here in Pakistan? You see, you need to calm down friend. Yes, rishta hai. Yes you are good looking. Yes you are fat. Yes you have been rejected. But hey, there is nothing so noble about it that you would go about it on and on and on.

What kind of behavior is that? Why wouldn’t you shut up? And that too, forever? No, please don’t give me a PMS excuse because you can’t possibly be PMS-ing at every rishta episode. 

I wish I could be a Book Reviewer!

If I hadn’t been what I am right now which is almost nothing, what would I have been then? A question of such a nature often pops up in my mind and gets away with an emotional influx of my present job’s satisfaction. Yes, I am one of a kind who claims to be utterly content with her job. Not every soul is blessed with such contentment and generosity to accept this very unique fact.

I am not making sense because I don’t know.

So what would have I been if given a second chance or if I wasn’t what I am today? A book reviewer. Doesn’t sound like a fancy job seeing the current trend of everyone reviewing books and cluttering the mega space available in papers and online media. But who said that I am talking about those less fortunate people who actually think that they have that credibility or sense to recognize the essence of a really good book. A professional book reviewer who has experienced the luxury of developing a composed intimacy with books is the one for me to follow if ever given a chance.

I am an avid reader. If I am not doing anything of value, I will be found reading. It doesn’t always have to be a book. I sometimes read the ‘Direction of Use’ written at the back of my shampoo bottle or a lotion. Trust me, it does give the same reading pleasure as any other stupid romantic novel but in more of practical fashion rather a fiction. Anyways coming back to my desire to be a book reviewer.

I have always been short at words when it comes to expressing the inner most depths of my emotional turmoil/harmony or occasional delirium. I lack the much needed eloquence which a book review needs, hence an impediment to become one of the best known book reviewers.  But who knows I might be the next best book reviewer someday soon and you would beg me for my autograph. Heh. Mate, life is brutally unexpected.

My urge to become a book reviewer has experienced a sudden rush after reading Kamila Shamsi’s Salt and Saffron. Salt and Saffron surely is a timeless, eloquent and the most refreshing masterpiece by Kamila where she has touched almost every human emotion. From very random and stupid tedious details to very solemn and melancholic life experiences, the author has simply put down the emotional roller coaster in a very vibrant and extravagant way.

The author beautifully amalgamates the plot of a story to the mementos of begone days of love, betrayal, separation, melancholy, expectation and rage. Kamila has done justice to every emotion by giving each one of them a refreshing expression full of eloquence. No, I won’t be sharing the story details with you. Get a book and go figure.

I am not the sort who suggests a book because people around me are too stubborn and opinionated when it comes to accepting ‘suggestions’. But oh well, I did suggest nevertheless. So get your copy and experience the joy of book reading! 

Mind you, this isn’t a review. I didn’t know how else to suggest a book. Or let’s be honest. I wasn’t sure what else to talk about but I sure had the urge to share random bits with you. 

Happy reading, folks.

And oh, let me know your opinions on this book. I will surely mention it here on the blog and might use your lines in the future without giving you the due credit in writing my book review. Kidding. I can’t possibly stoop so low.