Wow!

Love, poetry, romance and a hunk!

What a combo!

Sigh!

There should be one day in the week when Allah (AWJ) says “Go eat all you want, my child, without gaining a pound.”

*Sob*

I have such a craving to eat, its chewing me up raw!

How to become a BNU-ite…

It’s 3:18 AM and I am dead tired. My eyes are drooping and I keep thinking that I’ll work on it later, later, later. But the essay that I have been writing at this late hour for my Art of Storytelling Course at my university, BNU, is so exciting, I just can’t let go of it.

Now I’m finally done Al-Hamdulillah. I LOVE what I have written. We were told to write a “How to …” essay (a process essay) on a topic of our choice, and  I decided to write on how to become a BNU-ite. Cool, ah?

Now even though this is the rough draft and there are lots of corrections to be made and all, I’m so excited (but tired) that I think I’ll just post the essay here and share the wisdom. You people can help make the grammatical corrections waghira and also tell what you think about it.

(Oki  I just read the essay again and i know there are lotsss of errors. I’ll edit it later so ignore them. Or actually don’t. Tel me da errors you see in case i miss out on any.)

I’m soooooooo getting an A! *happy sob*

HOW TO BECOME A ‘BNU-ITE’. 

There is no need to define the term “BNU-ite” as the word itself screams out all there is to say. To teach you how to ‘Become the Nonpareil Unrivalled Imbecile ever To Exist’ is the aim of this essay, and hopefully after you are through with it, you will become the pseudo, wannabe or jerk (or all) that you wish to become.

The key to become a ‘BNU-ite’ is to forsake all conventional etiquettes, manners or ways of dressing up. You need to master the art of being rude to teachers and students alike. You must work on your fashion sense. (A quick message for those  who like the typical “shalwar kamiz” or the boring old jeans-and-shirt outfit: you might as well stop reading now and forget all your dreams of becoming a BNU-ite as you are unfit to become the wannabe you seek to be.)

For starters, a BNU-ite always wishes to explore the extremes of insolence and disrespect. So to become a BNU-ite, you need to make sure that, every now and then, you barge in a classroom while the class is in order. Now that you have interrupted the class and everybody is looking at you expectantly, look around casually, nonchalantly, indifferently. Fix the teacher with a challenging glare and then wave at a friend who might be attending the class. Glare at the teacher again before departing. Your movements must be slow and calm, confident and defiant; your footsteps light, as if you don’t have a care in the world. Remember to leave the door wide open behind you.

If any reader thinks this is impudence enough and that he will qualify as a BNU-ite once he does this, he must reconsider. Does he really want to become a BNU-ite? Because obviously he is not carved out of the cheap material which makes a BNU-ite, and I think he must give up on his hopes and desires now, before he gets rejected, and thus dejected, later.

It goes without saying that bunking classes is a special requirement for the How To Become A BNU-ite Course. Now, Lesson Number Two teaches you that if a teacher announces in front of the entire class that he is kicking you out of his course for the semester because your absences fill the attendance register, you dare not feel shame or embarrassment. Instead a BNU-ite will slide his way ot the centre of the class, open his arms wide and yell out a proud “YYAAAAAAYYYYY!”

 You must learn to feel noble, respectful and proud on the instances when ordinary people might die of shame.

A BNU-ite is always rude and extremely mean to his peers. Gossiping, making fun of other people, calling them derogatory names, laughing at them derisively, and spreading wild rumours about them, are some of the favourite pastimes of a BNU-ite. A special inherent quality that a Bnu-ite has is that he neither seeks knowledge himself, nor lets other people seek it.

 If some insolent fellow actually shows signs of interest in what is being taught in class, you must remember to gather a group of BNU-ites and make loud fun of that person. Interrupt that sassy fellow when he is discussing something serious with the teacher, heave exaggerated sighs and bless him with “Ahhhhs” and “Wahhhs” and “Wows” when he is making the grave mistake of giving the presentation that the teacher had asked everyone to give, and which obviously you have refused to do.

One can never become a BNU-ite without the perfect outfit. A BNU-ite is either a wannabe Brad Pitt or a wannabe Avril Lavigne, depending on the gender. But always remember, boy or girl, your clothes must never cover you. If you are a boy, do not forget to wear loose Bermuda shorts and then sit up on the chair with legs wide open. If you are a girl, a fuzzy, sleevless, backless sweater might do which barely reaches your waist. Learn to look beautiful.

And before I forget the accessories, do remember to wear sunglasses which expose only the tip of your nose, your hairline and the lower lip and chin. A BNU-ite, girl or boy, is very conscious of the Face Pardah.

Though this essay is only an introduction to the lifestyle of a BNU-ite, it needs no supplement. Once a person begins to develop the wonderful qualities highlighted in this essay, his BNU-virus infected brain guides him and directs his steps to the ways which will help him become the perfect BNU-ite, and thus, fulfil his role in society and the world as a leader of mankind.

 

Update, update!!

That’s what everyone keeps telling me to do! Ok…

Just an hour ago, in the washroom I decided I’ll write out this long serious post.

Ever wondered how there are so many people in the world and all have different faces?

Its easily said and believed that I’m the most beautiful girl in the world.

Having written that fact down, I’ll tell you something. An hour ago, there I was, standing in front of the mirror, making faces at myself. Cute faces, funny faces, horrendous faces, scary faces, beautiful faces.

That was when I realized how there were so many people in the world and how they all have different faces.

Probably when bored, Allah(AWJ) just sits there, takes his most beautiful creation and using her face, decides on the physical appearance of the next person to be born and sent into this world.

That’s why so many people say I have a very “common” face. That I have a very “familiar” face. That’s because Allah probably made many faces using my face as the first and the most beautiful version.

Ain’t that some food for thought?

Peace.

I’m engaged!!!

Lol! Yes, this should be on my blog! I want everyone to know…

I got Han-ofied on 16th Sept 2006 n officially engaged on the 22 Sept 2006. I looked splendid on my Engagement. MashAllah. Lol.

To whom? A Blogger, for one. (Another important could-be reason for blogging but he is so nice MashAllah he never forces me to do anything. Except excercise. Sigh!)

A Maulvi for another. Hehe. I get so pissed if somebody else calls him a maulvi but i call him whatever i want to. I can. Mujhay Haqq hai.

Also, he’s a doktor Sahab.  Like my brother. Incidently, they are both great friends.

A friend of my brother’s, a guy exactly my type MashAllah, I had met him manyyy times before we got engaged, and I seem very happy apparently. Sounds suspicious? Yes. To a great many people. (Ahhh!! Kurri noo siddha saadha mundda nazar aya hona aye tay phassa litta hona aye…)

Sorry to burst your bubble, but it’s actually an arranged marriage. I like to call it a forced one. Lol.

It’s a long story how it actually came to pass. I wouldn’t mind writing out all the beautiful details but there are so many hurdles and obstacles and problems that I will have to also dish out that I think i would rather not tell you the story and just come straight to the point.

I’m an engaged woman and I love being one.

There’s just one masla. People don’t call me a girl anymore…Sigh!

I don’t know…

ok…Lemme be very clear here. I did NOT want to create a blog. I did NOT want to start it as a profession. I did NOT want to write because it’s been such a long time since I have actually written something worthwhile, and writing again, regularly, spontaneously, passionately, scares the living daylights out of me.

But i have these two highly irritating friends (hehe) who happen to be full time bloggers and who desire to give up their lives for blogging and blogging alone. (Yes, i do mean inn ka shaheed honay ka plan hai blogging ke liye!) N Yes, you both know who you are, you Blogging Cousins, you! Lol…well, as it turns out fate bound me to one of them as we both got tied down in the same dump of a university! Now if two people aren’t that close and only one of them is trying to be friends and isn’t really succeeding, then you don’t have much to talk about. So what do we do? She nags and nags and nags and nags and instructs, “Make blogging a serious profession. You understand, you insolent little beast?”

And I, the meek one, says,”I’ll try!”

So here I am…writing my first post. (Incidently, the introduction is not mine. The Blogging Cousin Part 1 made the blog for me and very magnanimously,  helped me out by writing the intro herself.)

 Lol, now that I have avenged myself, I’ll move onto tell you why actually i agreed to start blogging. It’s true Blogging Cousin Part 2, The Friend Who Uses Me For College Purposes, mainly persuaded me, but I’m not such an easy fish to bait. The thing is, I’ll come out plain here, no secrets up my sleeve…

I actually once used writing as an escapism. There was once a time when I used to take out all my pent-up frustrations, my problems, my hopes, my dreams all out on paper and actually feel relieved of the great burdens. I used to shut out the rest of the world with all its unneccesary pain, its unrelenting troubles and its depressingly inhuman people and curl up on my bed and write down my thoughts and reflections about my life and what i interpreted of others’.

It used to be relieving, fun and easy.

But it’s not anymore. I left writing several years ago and didn’t come back to it (despite desperately wanting to!) till i was kicked in the butt and forced to hold up a pen! Yes i took up Art of Storytelling as an elective in college…I started writing and it felt good. Really good.

Even though it’s still very difficult for me to stir the rusty wheels in my brain into motion, i have decided i will continue writing, despite all my evasive strategies.

So here I am…trying to write.

Reason number 2: My best friend left. She has gone to England to study and has been there and away from me for exactly 82 days,13 hours and 39 minutes. Yes, I love her. And i miss her.

I needed to write. Ever since she has left i  felt like i needed to write. It’s funny though. When she was leaving, i wanted to give her a gift which would last till  the next time we meet. So that she would remember me and us exactly as she had left us. Writing something for her obviously seemed like the best thing.

But i couldn’t think of anything. I just couldn’t write. It was shocking, exasperating, humiliating. But I couldn’t. I sent her off with a bunch of lame notes and miss-yous which seemed like they were copied off from some cheap greeting card.

It’s not like that anymore. Ever since she has left, i feel like i need to write. Sitting in the car, passing time in front of the damned TV,chatting with my friends, trying to entertain my Ma, suddenly i would feel the urge to write. Something for her. Something original, something heartfelt, something expressive, something impressive. Just something. And i would. I would pick up my poor cell and write a long long sms and save it in the drafts. Lame.

I guess this is for you then, P. My writing now, just as my thoughts, emotions and feelings have all been for you. Always.

“I don’t know.” Thats the title of my post. Yes, I’ve written a long post but i still don’t know. I don’t know what to write. How to express the feelings I’m feeling right now. How to describe this commotion inside me. The feeling that something is rising inside me, struggling to come out. I just don’t know what it is.

How do I write it then? How do I write it, P, what I’m feeling right now? How doI tell you there is lots to tell yet I just cant.

But I guess I will.

 There’s always hope.

InshAllah.

I will…

Introduction.

I’m Sana. I’m a retard. I drink herbal tea and read books in the the bathroom.

Currently, I’m dieting.

 I love alot of people; my fiance and my best friend. In all honesty I love my best friend more. Period.