Open up your mind and your potential reaches infinity…


Most of the times these days, nothing helps. Absolutely nothing. But then one flash of memory becomes a device and a mechanism to carry on…in the heart, in ones mind or in ones writings of silly meaningless moments and hold them close as priceless memories.
But again, one is again thrown back in a dark place with no clue how does one even make sense when one wheel of your bike goes missing. How do you learn to single-wheel after 30 years of a laid back life because someone else was pedalling it for you. I guess, perhaps, I am pretty sure, it’s not going to be easy by any measure. We must fasten our seatbelts for a roller coaster ride.

Fatima, Ismail and I laugh and cry momentarily recalling silly snippets. Recalling some silly memories out of many many, here….

Fasih and I had somehow developed a habit of communicating in different languages and dialects. It wasn’t deliberate. Dont know how it happened so organically.
Like I would ask him in Sindhi, “Chaaye piyendo?”
For any compliment he would say, “Dado Sutho”
For asking some cash when in Karachi, i would ask in Arabic, “Ana ibgha fuloos.” (I need noney)
He would respond, “Kam ibgha?” (How much?)
Me:”Kateer” (Lots)
He would respond, “Ana miskeen.” (I am poor).
Sometime he switched to Punjabi after having listened to a friend get angry at his wife for being too demanding, “Tu mainu kut ley.” ðŸ˜€ (Chop me up).
He made the morning tea for a lazy me. And would keep it on the bedside in Bihari tone every single time, “Begum Sahiba kya anda bhi jushaand dein aapke liye?” ðŸ˜€
(Shall I boil an egg also for you?).

Sometimes it was in goorh Hindi which went over and above his head. Or in Pakeezah style Urdu.

He sent the 2nd & 3rd pics..”.mubarak ho, mubarak ho, you have a grand chick” when his Greys pair Shakespeare & Cleopatra, who are his kids, hatched a new chick. He was later named Rio.

Fasih had gone to a conference in Lahore and messaged me the 4th photo from there with a query, “Kaif?” (How is it?)
I replied, “Ya Allah, What kind of conference is this? But you look great ðŸ˜€ .”

Fasih was such a life…living every moment with his own brand of humor and flair.

We had our moments of serious arguments and disagreements too. It wasn’t all hunky dory all the time. But it was all part of a beautiful package.

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