All about being me

I am told that as a child I was not very talkative. That it took hours of making funny faces and sounds by my aunts and uncles to finally make me smile. After everyone had cramped themselves silly trying to make me goo-goo gaa-gaa, the verdict was unanimous: I was not a friendly child. If only they had handed me a pencil and a piece of paper..

Writing comes naturally to me.

Where other people find it easier to express themselves orally, I prefer written words.

The ability to write, gives one certain other ‘tools’ and I have been no exception. I like to observe the world around me, the people, their quirks and the basic underlying theme behind any action. What motivates me, is finding out what urged the proverbial chicken to cross the street.

I would’nt be able to pin point what or who I am, even if I wanted to. But thats not so bad now, is it? After all, if and when I do finally find out, the excitement and joy one gets out of life would be over. For, its the journey to our self discovery rather than the actual destination that is important.

Simple everyday things happening around interest me. I try to see the human element in them and I try to strip them down to their most basic level.

People interest me…So, yeah the reason I did not smile at all those funny faces was because I was wayy too fascinated by the spectacle of grown people making a fool of themselves, and I laugh to myself:P

I am an optimist, I try to find the positive and funny in any situation. For me, the Pakistan Cricket team will ALWAYS win, from any situation.

If you can make someone smile even when they’re at their most lowest, depressed state, you’ve made a difference…

I am still in the process of figuring out who I am as a person. I believe that the world is a classroom and life is just another day at school. Each day we learn lessons that are more than the sum of their parts.

I am an ‘80’s child.

I am told that those were historic days, and that we are still atoning for the decisions made in that decade. All I remember is a lot of hatred in my textbooks that I could not quite contextualize. Since all requests for explanation led to punishment or detention, I found refuge in story books, a world that still made sense to me. In Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn, I found the perfect companions. My room, home and street became my own personal Mississippi as I relived their adventures, with a Pakistani twist. For me, Yaqui Joe was anyone who questioned the government or challenged the status quo.

But nothing happens in isolation.  I have not been able to completely block out the tumultuous time of the ‘80’s and then ‘90’s that the environment around me was going through. Increasingly, both my worlds started intermixing, until it became impossible to tell one from the other.Everywhere I looked, I could draw parallels between fiction and reality.

Somehow, I guess,  I don’t really know when , I became who I am today…

I hope I’m not finished in my journey towards finding me..I hope there’s still a lot more..

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