The Dilemma Of Grocery Shopping.

Imagine when you are woken up from your deep beauty sleep at 2 in the blistering heat of afternoon and told that its your turn to go grocery shopping. Yeah. It happened with me. At first I thought that some devil is joking with me but it was my mother. For ten minutes I simply gathered my bearings and thought about the hurricane that awaited me. Then I got up from my bed and made it to the bathroom. After getting ready which included wearing Abaya and grabbing my Blackberry, I raced outside to join my dear daddy in the car. The 15 minutes were so peaceful and I thought about staying there forever.

I got out and entered the hyper market. During all this, my mind was filled with the list, cucumbers…tomatoes…milk…bread…yoghurt…chillies…strawberries…etc. Moving along the aisles, I just dumpeverything in the trolley. And I am fighting my way through a sea of people mostly bachlors walking aimlessly. Cereal, check. Nutella, check. Noodles, check. Bread, check. And it goes on. My eyes are still not fully open and I do not want them to open. Because Uptill now, I am just having a horrible nightmare but then I will be forced to live it. Shudders. I just grab everything I can think of and asks my dad to pay. He says, sumaica did you get the 7up and the shampoo and this and that? I got everything dad. Let us just go.

I arrive home with every bone in my body which is a miracle dispite all the torture I went through. Then it hits me. I have been played.  It wasn’t even my turn to go shopping. It was my younger brothers turn. He took advantage of my mental sleeping state.

How do people do this? According to a survey conducted by Sumaica Asad in 2012, 7 out of every 8 teenager hate grocery shopping. See, the torture we have to go through. Personally, if parents want to punish their kids, send them grocery shopping. They will never disobey you again.  A friend of mind likes grocery shopping and I am still figuring out why? Nobody likes to shop for cereals, grains, rice, whatever the hell people buy.

It is torture. You have to give up whatever most important thing you are doing. Then you have to get ready. Then you have to weave around people. Then you have to push around a stupid trolley. Then you have to find everything on the list. If by any luck you have a list. And you always and I repeat ALWAYS forget something to buy.

I never ever want to go grocery shopping again.

…SAP…

Guy Got Scammed.

My eldest brother’s friend went to Pakistan. He was going after a long time, almost 6 years. Now this guy thinks that he is very MATURE and he is a Know It All Guy. This is his story in my words. His flight lands on the Allama Iqbal International Airport, Lahore. He exits the plane and then reaches the first check in counter. He checks in. And moves on to the next counter. Suddenly a person comes up and says:

 “Bhai Saab, Airport tax diya hain app nay” 
(Brother, Have you given the Airport tax)
“Ji, Airport Tax??? Kia matlab?)
(Airport tax? What tax?)

” Saab Ji, tax daina parta hain. App ko bhi daina paray ga”
(Sir, everyone gives the tax. You have to give it too.)

“Acha per ye tax hain kis cheez ka?”
(Okay. But what is this tax for?)

“Sir Ji, Airport par land karnay ka tax hain. Zardari nay lagaya hain.”
(Sir, It is for landing on the airport. Zardari has issued it)

“Acha, khair. Kitna daina hain tax” 
(Okay. How much do I have to give?)
And that stupid idiot takes out his wallet in front of that person. 
Saab ji, wesay tu bahar say aanay walo ka 10 hazar hain. Liken app 5 hazar daye dain.”
(Sir. A person who comes from abroad has to give 10,000 rupees. But you can give 5000.)

“Acha,per meray pass Pakistani Rupees nahi hain”
(Okay. But I don’t have Pakistani rupees)

“Saab ji, Riyal hi day dain”
(Sir. No problem. Give us Riyals)

“Chalo theek hain.Kitnay riyals huain”
(Okay. How much?)

“500 Riyals saab ji”
(It would be 500 riyals)
So he takes out the money and give it to the man without a single doubt in his mind. After spending some time in Lahore, he went to Karachi and again on the Airport he gave the so called Airport Tax. Even then he didn’t think that its fishy. But when he was coming back to Qatar from Lahore, the same person asked for the tax again. He gave it to him but he asked his Uncle and Uncle was like, dude you have just been scammed. There is no such thing as airport tax. 
He was telling us about it and we all were laughing like lunatics. He gave 500 QRs as airport tax. That is not a small amount. And now his image of being very CLEVER is ruined. Tuh Tuh Tuh. I actually felt bad for him but not for a second then I remembered all those times when he pretended to be clever and superior to me. 
Moral Of The Story: Never underestimate others. And never think of yourself as the superior. You do not know everything.
…SAP…


Is Money More Important Than Family?

Is money more important than family? I am forced to ask this question to myself again and again. I know the answer but unfortunately for me the world does not agree. I have always taken money as a secondary thing. You have it one day and you don’t the other. Where as family is always there. It is your bone and blood. It is your backbone and without a backbone you will be crippled.

My family became a victim of this hunger too. Three years back, my uncle (Khala’s husband) started giving more importance to money. He did a lot of things and all bad. He made my Mamo’s (Uncle’s) life miserable. All after money and power. Today he is the owner of Shaheen Chemists, the top pharmaceuticals  in Islamabad. But four times in the past 3 years, his car has been stolen out of his guarded and camera’s secured house. He has all the money and power in the world but he doesn’t have happiness. His kids don’t even want to talk to him despite living in the same house. And the eldest is only 16. The only reason we didn’t come into this whole mess was because we live here in Qatar.

You have a BMW in the garage, Givenchy Play on your dressing table, custom made Louis Vuitton suits in your walking closet, you are throwing a poolside party. People come in their Mercedes, BMWs, Range Rovers, wearing all their finery and riches. They talk about money, power, how to obtain more of it and then leave. There is nobody to tell you that the flowers are not as fresh as found in your mom’s garden. That I want to eat more Cheese Cake. That can you please pack some food for me. That the Italian Cuisine was not as good as your desi food. There is no one to break a glass. You have all the riches in the world but no one to share it with. No one to praise it. No one to have fun with.

In that moment you are so blind. The hunger for more money, power have sucked the happiness and joy out of your life like a leech. At the end you have everything, yet nothing. You stand alone at the end of the journey, we call life. The choice is in your hands. Do you want to walk or be a cripple forever? Family or money? Just remember one thing, money may not be there when family is not, but family will ALWAYS be there when money is not.

…SAP…

Empty Mind.

I sit with a pen in my hand, open notebook, blank page and an empty mind. I do not have a single thought in my mind. It is like somebody just washed it clean. I start to write but the pen does not work. I try, try and try but no avail. It refuses to co operate with me. I have to get up from my cozy couch and get a new pen. I open the cupboard, reach for the pen holder but it stares back emptily. Emptiness, that is what me and my pen holder share. I hunt for a pen or a pencil in the side drawers but I find none. I do find a purple colour pencil and I give up. I reach for it ans start writing. And I think how lucky this purple pencil is to be used by me. okay, not so lucky. My attempts at writing are interrupted by one of the species in my house, my eldest brother trying to crack my knuckles. I bolt and take refuge on my bed. The relationship that me and my bed share is very understandable. It puts me down to sleep the minute I lay down on it. Its teak wood and springy mattress gives me the comfort that a 5 star hotel can’t. But right now its not doing its job. And I am still awake. So I sit up and reach for the book that I have been trying to read for past 2 weeks. It happens to be a classic forced upon me by my cruel BFF cum sister.You see classics are not my thing. But I am trying. I open it to page 134,

She thought, without exactly wording the thought, how strange and God like was a composer’s power, who from the grave could lead through sequences of emotion, which he alone had felt at first, a girl like her who had never heard of his name, and never would have a clue to his personality.   -Tess Of The D’urbervilles by Thomas Hardy.

I want my writing to be like this. And now I am lost in the world of reading.

…SAP…

Memories.

What are memories?
A picture in a frame
On your bedside table.
Or a page in a diary
Under your pillow.


What are memories?
An old silver pen
With a broken nib.
Or a gold pendent 
With your name on it.


What are memories?
Your High School Year Book
With her autograph.
Or his corsage red rose 
Still pressed in your favourite book.


What are memories?
Right words spoken to
The wrong guy on a beautiful day.
Or unspoken words to
The right girl on a beautiful night.


What are memories?
Dancing in the rain
Having the time of your life.
Or a picture of you
With all your friends by your side.


What are memories?
Something worth
Living your life for.
Something worth
Remembering your life for.

-Sumaica Asad

…SAP…

Night or Day.

Nowadays, it is Ramadan and ofcourse our routine is walking backwards. We have been sleeping all mornings and have been up all night for the past five days. This is how me and my siblings are passing our fast and conquering the world. My dad being a very punctual and a routine follower was amazed at this. Last night, he said that kids, nights are for sleeping and days are for doing whatever you want. 500 years ago people used to sleep at nights and work in the days, today people do the same and I assure you that even after 500 years, life will go on like this. I know you guys love the idea of staying awake at night but you are just hurting your bodies and gaining no benefit. Thursdays are your night out but that does not mean that everyday has to be one. You have got to achieve bigger things in life and you guys can’t seem to have control over your own bodies. Life doesn’t works like this. I know you people are the new generation and living in the moment is your motto. But you have to do things to be able to enjoy your life in the moment. 

I realized he is right. I do not have control over my mind. I have already missed 4 dental appointments because I was unable to wake up. I am awake at 8:30 in the morning enjoying the blistering heat of July in Qatar and wishing that I should have stayed in Dubai. But that is how life works. Or atleast mine does. 
I don’t know how many days my so called routine is going to work but I hope that for once I actually stay put. And sleep at night. 
….SAP…