a peek in the past

At times I just like to sit and think back, down the dingy streets of the memory lane to see how far back can I actually remember stuff from! 9Th grade? Eid when I was 12? Touching that snake when I was about 5? All these nostalgic checkpoints, give me a warm, fuzzy feeling, that I actually remember stuff. I wish human memory was photogenic and that you could rewind and play the beautiful moments of your life. I had some purely beautiful moments in my life too, some forgotten as time goes on, some still etched on that thing attached to my head, the brain.
The first ever memory that I have of me is, when I'm 2 years old and splashing in a bucket of water while eating an apple, always thought to myself why out of everything do I remember that but i still don't know, fast forward a bit, 4 years; wearing my dad's police uniform and walking around the house, crying like crazy when my dad had to leave, Passing by a street hawker who was selling flowers, and I start crying, "mujhay bhi shaadi chahiye", my parents worried sick as to where can we get "marriage" for this girl? turns out I wanted the flowers and I thought they were called "shaadi", for some odd reason, Crying on the first day of school, and meeting this nice girl who told me its gonna me OK, and today 13 years later, shes still by my side, The 7th birthday where for some reason alot of people were invited and all i cared about was eating that jello on the other end of the table but was told to hold on, till the "guests" were done, Wasnt that supposed to be my day? Freaking out because I was late for the award ceremony at school and was actually an award recipient, sports day where winning and losing was a matter of life & death for me, still got that Ego of mine, 3rd grade computer exhibition; and the tears welling up in my eyes when I didn't get anything, but the free orange juice there made everything better, the first experience of earthquake, everyone evacuating the building, while I was fighting against the tide of students, trying to get to the class, so that I could take my school bag with me, Oh my! I was at the peak of stupidity back then, Coming as early as 7:00am every morning just so I could stand in the front of the assembly line. 4th grade was when I started thinking of myself as a mature adult who could handle anything ... things happened and showed me I wasn't quite ready yet. As I started growing so did people around me, and gradually our thoughts changed too, our conversations went from, "Answer for question 2" to "That guy across the hall", and along with love so came drama & tension in the air, but I was always the one who sat back and enjoyed watching everything and not really in the lime light. 5th grade, I was a good, outstanding student, class monitor :P, and someone my mother would want, this image of mine was the same every year except the graph used to kinda lower every year, to which my mother made sure, she would address the issue. Eid day, putting my clothes on in a hurry and not giving a care in the world like other girls as to if my shoes matched my attire, or if my hair were done properly, why? because I had to hurry down and get the Eidi, before I lost any of my customers, freaking out at the end of the day, because I couldn't find my wallet which had all the hard earned money I had, turns out I kept it in the fridge and forgot to take it out. 7th grade, that was around when the Iraq war started, I still remember the flashes of green light in the dark sky of Baghdad, papers reporting the dead and missing, children & women crying and that's when it started, the slight dislike for America, its citizens & their policies and it eventually put a little seed of hatred in my heart. 8th grade,10 October 2005 earthquake in Pakistan, shook everyone including me, donation camps were set all across the country & I remember asking my mother, why didn't we donate anything yet, and her telling me, all these army people are corrupt and that they're going to use up all these supplies for themselves, trying to figure out what that meant, I noticed the world wide aid and attention Pakistan received, which made me happy that Pakistan was known to countries out there, around this time there started this growing trend of "planned massive killings"-Suicide Bombings, which stole the peace and tranquility of every law abiding citizen of the country, which was a nightmare because you never knew who would be the next target, from the minister to the peasant,no one was and still is safe. Worrying countless times and praying at nights for my dad's safety due to the nature of his job was something I had to get used to.
9th grade, and I felt at the top of the world cuz now we were officially the sorta BIG kids at the school, and this was when I had to say good bye to all the people I knew for quite a long time in my life, and from then on my journey was with a different set of people, whom I would continue to know as long as I live :), along with them, we created moments, and memories that are priceless, and for the first time in my life, I went from the studious, A grade, punctual, rule abiding student to a B grader, prank puller and the common kid of the class, & realized it was way fun to be on the other side of the grass, which also meant I had to compromise with my grades. I still remember the oh so uneducational discussions in biology and going "eww" & "gross" or just dazed by the things we found out :D, the Ghaalib Urdu, or simply trying to figure out if "Kitaab" was male or female, physics with a PhD teacher who happened to be a hot headed Pathan, was never my idea of fun, the famous water tank and the portrait of "Robert Goodard" some physics maniac, in the librart was always the object of discussion as I always asked my friends to marry Mr. Goodard as he was ugly and pretty lonely, the fun Science Practicals, which was the best opportunity for me to chill and let my friends do the work, and procastrinating till the very last day to complete it, Chemistry practicals, where everyone would literally refuse to be my lab partner because they were afraid I might blow something up, I mean I did enjoy mixing various unknown chemicals but I think it was pretty safe, annoying the hell out of our Islamiat teacher and bugging him so much that if he had a choice I'm pretty sure he would've shot one of us, bombarding all the teachers with lame questions just to avoid work and waste time, calling my friend Yusra "Budhi" because, Oh I forgot why we called her that, but its been 2 years since Ive been out of that school and still shes known by that name everywhere, Roxy, Kinza, Qazi, Memon, Afifah and the ridiculous boys in our class ... these were some of the people that made the two years, the best years' the signing of our stalls in the pavillion and the promises we gave to each other, of never losing touch and always being there... MEMORIES MEMORIES MEMORIES :)
Even if I pour out my entire heart, I still wont be able to write it all out, these things that may sound very laid back and alright to someone, made me what I am in one way or other.


Memory is a way of holding onto the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose.