For some reason this bloggie isn’t allowing me to post a pic. While the subtle avoidance of posting anything readable has become a comforting way of flying under the radar due to a) having much more important real life interaction to worry about words on a screen and b) not having the energy to broadcast incidences in my life to people, i must admit that i miss the writing. And yes, i could have written something on a lil blank page and folded it up and put it away, but i couldn’t find a page. My bag is all the way over there...
Somebody important said to me yesterday, that he doesn’t see why everybody has to have and opinion every time. Recently my mind has resembled a sieve..but those words stuck in my head. And he’s right. Sometimes people just say things to have a word in, but it really doesn’t mean anything. Sometimes no matter how you feel or what you think, people are going to do or say whatever they want to. People will be selfish, whore around or just basically be there for you when they have something to gain – except those who really mean something. And those are few and far between anyway. So yes, silence is golden and words will find whoever is worthy of them.
And i”m not saying go on and ignore people, but if you don’t have anything good to say, don’t say it at all. Though we’ve all been guilty of talking crap about others, nothing matters in the end. Opinions don’t matter – its the actions that do. And if you can justify yours and I can justify mine, we’re not living our lives for each other, so let people be. It’s different when opinions from valued people are asked for...but five years down the line, some things just won’t hold any weight.
It’s really quite something to see whose there for you when something bad happens – like recently. And I know that overall, it turned out well, but I still have this residual anger that comes from thinking where the hell some people were when I needed them and why my friends came through more than my some of my family cared to. I get that friends are the family we choose in life...but when it comes down to it, if they weren’t there, I really wouldn’t have known better. If it weren’t for you...who stayed up with me when I was too sad to sleep and you who made me laugh when I didn’t think I could. And you who to me, are my family.
So now its being asked why my independence has pushed me to isolate myself or take on things on my own and not ask for help or opinions on the way things should be. Well I don’t feel like I need to, because I’ve gotten this far without conforming. And I will do what I think I need to, to make myself feel ok again. I don’t need you to tell me it will be ok – you haven’t all along... and when you tell me the way things should be done, you can guarantee ill have my earphones on. But at the end of the day, I will smile, be respectful and include you in my moments of joy..because may someday I could find a way to forgive you.
So Q was walking through the grape fields of Australia all alone one fateful Thursday night…all the while wishing that some sign would appear before her to let her know that she would find somebody so patient, loving and cute that she would wake up smiling every morning. Suddenly, a sign popped up in front of her…but no, it did not register. ‘wow,’ she thought, ‘that’s a pretty name for a wine.’ And she kept walking. Blonde as she sometimes was after 8pm, the sign she saw did not remind her of a sign she asked for. Somebody Up There had finally had enough. And the real Shiraz came hurtling down from the heavens (aasman se aaya) toward Q in a shower of meteors (I know, this is where it gets original). And he was all ‘what the hell!’ and Q was all. ‘whoa..this seems familiar somehow.’ And with his latent powers that manifested themselves at this moment…he ripped open his…his…bag! And in it, was this blue and red cape thingy (which was totally not gay) and it had his initial on it! An ‘S!’ then he told her, that he was sent from Jannat to bring me this shiny green rock and also, some jelebi (my Jannat ke jelebi).
Yeah. That’s how we met ;)
And I get drunk on happiness called Shiraz everyday…
nuance. that word sounding strange? maybe i saying it too much. like when you say reunion. or spell it - its a little weird. niki and i had this conversation the other day. speaking of whom, i gonna see today. yay!! hope she didnt get arrested foe blinding the pet shrimp Lewis, in the science department by taking pics of him...poor thing. like Shiraz blinding the turtle at Ushaka ;)
come to think of it, my friends share this liking for turtles...cant understand it, but it works for me gifts wise...anyway. ugh..i feeling a lil queasy...this exam thing doesnt work for me coz im in a small class and supervisors expect alot. i have never needed a holiday like i need this one. and i ned to see planes. as in the airshow... which i can never get enough of. i just wnat these butterflies in my tummy to like take a breather so i can make sense just now and wax lyrical about the joys of sampling techniques.
by the way- winter's officially here! bring out the boots and scarves and warm bear hugs :)
if there's one thing that irks me more than group projects, bad hair days and pushy people, its people who smoke. while my bus adventures allow my tolerance ot extend to handling smelly people who have no control over there inquisitive elbows and will go out of their way to invade your space or god forbid strike up a bright summery converstation with you on a day when all you want to do is slap everyone around with a cricket bat, my days have now been additionally seasoned by a good dose of smoke. see, at the bus stop, there's this afrikaner ladt with a shock of blonde hair followed by an undertone of black. and she's usually draped in a cloud of smoke and happily casts the smoke upon missQ. all the waving away off the smoke and the angry 'ahems' in the world dont seem to get her attention as she insists she teaches the security guard nearby afrikaans. yeah, every flipping morning, i emerge out of the smoke to maniacally wave the bus down and ever so often, the driver misses me and there i am again -left to inhale. freaking idiot. no - freaking idiots who smoke. and why on earth do some people think its cool to have this thing attached to your mouth that billows out smoke and makes you smell like last months' lasagne. and! discolours your teeth and makes your lungs all blacks and gross. and then, you go and impose this shit on innocent people like us who arent aiming for an early departure. yeah - so to all the smokers - go screw yourself.
The thing about taking public transport, is that people automatically assume that you’re independent – which I am (some people will vouch for my stubbornness). But independence will only take you so far in this world…in my case it got me to town and left me stranded there on the one day our darling bus drivers decided to have a strike. In Niki’s case, it got her back where she started – home. Thanks to my white knight, I managed to get to my destination, albeit full of rage and looking like I could stomp on all the pretty flowers here and then drive over em with a tractor. yeah. But really, independence can function on its own on this planet- you’re always going to have to depend on something like the idiotic transport system. So no – taking the bus doesn’t mean you’re all independent – it means that hey, if the bus doesn’t come, im screwed. Royally. And if it rains- yeah, that’s right – screwed again! And people that don’t take buses will go and schedule meetings exactly when you need to leave or keep talking while you look at your watch and you know the bus has left without you. Then they’ll shut up after 5 minutes and you have to waste another half and hour of your life waiting for the next one. And I don’t like asking for help, I never have, but thankfully my knight is as stubborn as I am. Its just that while the bus is cool and you meet lotsa people…fade out to when Niki met Q…
Niki: hi, are you taking the campus bus? (she was thinking..great! fresh meat! I bet she’s first year.poor thing doesn’t know what’s gonna hit her)
Q: um.yeah. Hey weren’t you in my primary school? (I better be this girlie’s friend. She can wave the bus down for us)
Niki: Omg!! Yeah I was…(crap..now this chick is gonna keep talking. And I’ll probably have to wave the bus down)
We had a hiatus for about a year..and then we were reunited at the bus stop again when we both had gained a considerable amount of fashion sense and then we were ready to commit to a serious friendship ;) then we had the most amazing bus adventure where we took two buses just to go to this place for a slice of choc cake…in all, I think we took 5 buses that day. But it was worth it! Only a select view know that you cant ignore the call of chocolate cake. And shopping. There can never be enough shopping. Like the night before mother’s day..when the friends and I decided to take on Gateway and we ended up getting elbowed and I crushed some chick’s toes and we managed to get the last few of the most amazing gift right in front of other shoppers heading straight for it ;) it was madness. When there are only a few Afrikaans mother’s day cards left on the shelf, you know you’re too late. And Jo and I found cute London hats that I want to buy..i know I wont wear it often..but I need to know that its mine you know? Ahem…sounds like some other scenarios would fit the last sentence ;) yes, im pointing at you. Lol anyway…thankfully the buses are up and running and I don’t have to say all those bad words in my head again. And I can fully focus my thoughts on getting that yummy chicken shwarma and chips and coke if I get through this day awake…see? You must always incentivize.
and to my angel who makes me feel like its my birthday every day....you're my happy pill
There is something sinister about fairs. And I don’t mean the usual run of the mill fun fair chocfull of creepy clowns and crying kids – I mean Muslim fairs. And we wont mention names, but the one held this weekend had its fair share of weirdness and seemed to bring out the daredevil shopper in each visitor and summoned up the youth in some old women who elbowed their way to the bargains. The same fair the night before though, was calm and void of all signs that it would bring about the consumer crusade it did the next day, when all items gleamed in the daylight and people could see where they were going, spotting bargains a mile away and rushing through the crowd in some manouevres only rugby players would be proud of. And then you get the shielded warriors, the pardah aunties who will use their anonymity as a way to push through – not forgetting those using prams as weapons to block your path t the bargain you’ve spotted three miles away and threaten all hopes of ever reaching the destination. Yesterday was no exception, when MissQ was trying on a cloak and this old lady pushed past and said, ‘you taking that?’ and I was like,er..i don’t know yet,’ looking at the lady who obviously would not fit all parts of her into it at the same time. And I did take it, which brought out the savage in her and she gruntled away. And then azaan went and I spotted my bargain while all these ladies stopped to out their scarves on, I struck! And found the cutest cloak. Since it was the last day of the fair and the plummeting prices threatened to unleash a new onset of shopping euphoria and a good dose of rage, I left before it could escalate. But it just makes me wonder – for all the Muslimness we try to exhibit to non-Muslims and the holier than thou attitudes we wear around like coats of armour, when we’re all together this seems to give way to another dimension (which squishes people). Really though. How odd is it to see people dressed all holy and peaceful looking and there they go, pummeling into the crowd reminiscent of the some angry warthogs. And yes, we do think we’re better than others – I don’t know when or why we started thinking that way, but maybe it’s the whole money thing. And we think we have a right to act these ways when we think nobody’s looking. And it’s more than pushing people around at fairs…its deeper, it’s about morals and pushing your way through life. And often if there’s a Muslim pharmacist or doctor consulting with patients, a Muslim patient that came last will cut through and use Salaam as a way of saying. ‘Hey, im your sister/brother and we’re connected through this religion so serve me first.’ Don’t get me wrong…im not embarrassed to be Muslim, neither am I saying that everyone is like this. All im saying is that somewhere, we lost the plot.
It was Waseem the Great’s birthday and all the land waited in anticipation for the Great to awaken to see his 25th year and bless then with yet another year of immense greatness. In Seemland, things always went according to plan..except on this fateful April 16th…when Eskom did not receive an invitation due to the demerit system in Seemland…the Great’s peasant friends, Q, Niki, Mj and Jo and of course, the Great’s Good brother, Shiraz (who engaged most of his time in shopping and wrapping gifts in a very macho and manly way in his white shirt), decided that this year would be a birthday the Great would never forget…where sparkliness reigned supreme and laughter filled the streets and every store in town had sales of teal clothing.
Niki: hey! Like. Stop sprinkling all that glitter and butter salt around – it getting into my ghd’d hair.
Shiraz: mine too.
Q: sorry for breathing.
Meanwhile, on the other end of Seemland, mj was on his black horse, Tata, going to fetch Joe. Now on Joe’s end of the world, Escapade, there were some wild animals – which Mj was wary of (in a statistical way of course) but today was different…
‘Hmm’ Joe thought as she slid the cupcakes into the oven, ‘I wonder what’s keeping MJ..’
If she only knew…that the blinking traffic lights had blinded Mj’s trusty steed and had flung him from its rear straight into the euphoria of the centre of the land the wild animals inhabited. With this new being which had obviously descended from heaven (or hell considering what his t-shirt said), they ordained him as their master (because he had masters degree). To his surprise he realized they had also been preparing for the Great’s feast and had taken the celebrations to a new level, using the flashing malfunctioning traffic light as their disco ball and making Mj reenact his great descent over and over. Jo however, was unaware of the drama (coz she was only used to a high standard of theatre like Font) and as she woke up to the sounds of ambulances every morning, the commotion was nothing out of the ordinary and she continued folding and popping out her 3 million origami stars– besides, she lived with the Great AK, so she had nothing to worry about.
Back at the Great’s palace, Q was draping fairy lights, Shiraz was wrapping gifts and writing very emotional cards..and Niki was decorating her Tom Welling shrine while conducting an experiment about the DNA of Q’s fishies as they suspiciously resembled Saif Ali Khan…
Q: ummm…its 3am, can’t we take a nap before the Great wakes up? Im tired. I didn’t nap today – and I took 7 buses and…I had mince for lunch. What a bad day.
Shiraz: no, Im already late for work. (his schedule had been totally screwed by the load shedding schedule and now supper was at lunch, breakfast was at supper and lunch was at breakfast..and 7de laan was still at 6.30pm. At this point, nobody really knew what time he started).
Niki: like.hello? It’s the Great’s birthday duh- it’s a public holiday. Now Q? when did you last see saif?
Q: umm..hey! I can say big words….floxinoxi…something
Niki: supercalifragalis…tic.
It was then that all the lights in Seemland went out, leaving the entire town in darkness (except for Q’s tiara which twinkled like the stars and a few lucky peasants who had sold their souls for cell phones). One of them was Mj, who bought a weapon of a phone, which he used to thunk the over elated monkeys on the head and escape. However, it was his unfortunate fate to jump into an Escapade elevator – which was occupied by AK whose curiosity was piqued by the noise after 3 hours.
AK: ‘Oh, Mj its you – you know who I am!! AK!’
MJ: ‘Really? You don’t say – sign my chest.’
In that very odd predicament, load shedding intervened and there they were..stuck.
‘#8!@!!!!’ they both said.
‘you wanna hear a joke?’ said Ak
After about 10 minutes… ‘no’ said Mj..
Another 45 minutes went by…and Mj changed his mind.
Upstairs, Jo was really worried now – the origami stars were not popping the way they should have…and somehow she sensed that something had happened, but she couldn’t put her finger on what it was..and then it hit her.
‘Your mother!!!’ she screamed, running to the kitchen to rescue the cupcakes, which she had forgotten about.
‘Ya Allah! Thank gawd for load shedding!’ as she contemplated the horror of her darling cupcakes being burnt and shuddered for 2.5 seconds until she heard a stifled scream coming from the lift amid the excitable rendition of ‘Dekho! Dekho!’ and figured that MJ and AK were stuck.together. After frantically drinking some tea and dialing Q’s number, Jo assured Mj and AK that help was on the way.
While Q and Shiraz rushed to save the world from the combined forces of MJ and AK, Niki decided to stay home and finish the experiment (but we all knew she wanted to spend her time ceremoniously circumnavigating the Welling Shrine with scented candles). As fate would have it, Q and Shiraz were pulled over by a very angry cop who was no doubt having the worst day of his life. All the pleading and flashing (thanks to Q) couldn’t have saved them from the hefty fine imposed on this dark night just two seconds away from Joe’s building. But when Shiraz got back in the car…Q was nowhere to be seen.
‘What the hell!’ he exclaimed!
He looked for her in the cubby, under the seat and finally in the cup holder, but he just could not find her. Suddenly a wild inhabitant rushed out of the tree and grabbed him and reunited him with Q, who was proclaimed Queen of Escapade (because she had a tiara) and they promptly named him King – because he had great hair (some opinions in life are universal). It was fun at first, but they soon realized that with the lack of necessities such as a ghd or jewelry, this place was just not working for them. After much struggle and running around, a compromise was reached and they bartered a lock of hair for their freedom.
What many in Seemland did not know, was the special powers a certain trio possessed. The ‘Powder-puff’ powers which included Shiraz aka Buttercup, Q aka Blossom and Niki aka Bubbles, were struck by lightening one fateful night and received the powers of bubblewrap – flexibility, invisibility and the power to pop things. And of course, the package came with standard garden variety flying powers which often didn’t have such great results. Soon AK and MJ were rescued from the tortured elevator and Mj rushed into sajdah position and proclaimed his gratitude repeatedly until he developed pins and needles. Shiraz flew up to Jo’s balcony, not surprised to see her once again on the ledge, battling with the urge to take a leap, and brought her back down to earth.
“Wow! Shiraz, you’re so strong!’ squealed a hoard of 352 sparkly teenage girls who had gathered to watch his display of strength.
Soon enough, Q donned her invisibility powers and popped the few braincells they had.
With all in tow, they found Tata, who had been pimped and souped up by the wild inhabitants and who now had a mini dvd player, blinged out hooves and some hectic dreads and blinkers with a tattoo on the back saying ‘glayer.’ On arrival at the Great palace just in time for the Great to wake up, they sensed a certain scent in the air…a dangerous one.
Q: does somebody smell Juicy Lucy food?
Mj: no, their food has no smell. Or taste.
Joe: it smells like when you over-ghd your hair..
Shiraz (whose electronic engineering education was certainly starting to pay off): oh my god!! Something’s burning! And it can’t be electrical coz its load shedding time! There must be fire!’
And they rushed to find Niki, who had been affected by all the exchange of Powder-puff power by Q and Shiraz and while peacefully gazing at Tom, experienced a surge in power and the candle exploded, setting Tom and all his paraphernalia on fire. Amid the flames, there was Niki, holding on and trying to salvage the remaining items of clothing she had ‘borrowed’ from Tom’s dressing room.
Q: omg Niki!! (secretly she was hoping Niki’s dna test results were fried as well, to eliminate the chilling evidence that she had indeed done the deed with saif).
Mj: save the lana picture niki!!
Jo: wait! Stop! I wana put sprinkles in the candle wax- it’ll look pretty.
Shiraz: ooh you can do that? That’s so cool!
With all the exclamations and bashing into glass vases in the dark, the Great awoke at 3.05am (yes, all this took 5 minutes- time stands still in Seemland and there are enough places to chat in).
The Great (looking at Niki’s hair which was kinda crackling but it still looked good): hey, what happened here?
Mj: we be burning.
Q: yeah, it just went from AM to PM
Niki: its 4 in the morning
Mj: I like when girls kiss girls
NIki: ew
MJ: sorry seems to be the hardest word
Niki: its too late to apologize.
Jo: wait – Im turning my lovelight on…
Shiraz: Q? where’d you go? I miss you so..seems like its been forever since you’ve been gone…
Q: baby when the lights go out…I hear you calling…
Shiraz: we’ll get lost together, till the light comes pouring through.
Silence followed for like 6 seconds…(they were waiting for the light to come pouring through)
Mj: paan rocks…oh hey! Happy birthday Waseem!!
Q: oh right yeah! That’s why we’re here! SURPRISE!
Shiraz (hugs waseem) *sniff happy birthday my favorite brother in the world.
Niki: Tom..is Tom ok?
Jo: never mind the load shedding- we’re all here together, that’s all that matters…
The Great: Baby, its fact.
;) ok this is soo weird. im sitting next to this girly that looks just like joe...and i bet she thinks im extremely strange coz i keep looking at her...now if only i could find some kinda diversion...then i could snap a quick pic and blog it...the only diversion would be to scream 'fiyyyeh!! bring the waateh!' but then i think i'd have to leave..in handcuffs. i was watching music videos on mute last night, watching alicia keys bang that keyboard in silence makes her looks like she's having a seizure by the way...and then leona lewis popped up and it just struck me that almost every up and coming artist has that whole melancholy, 'im lying here like a broken soul' look going for them. and somehow, that broken doll thing has become cool. i mean, which artist smiles on their album cover except them afrikaaner treffers and country music simon and garfunkel folks...there's a difference between looking sexy and looking sad like somebody stole your organs while you were sleeping..or ate your cadbury choc muffin before you got home...
look at this album cover
see? she not looking sexy..she looks like she fell down those stairs behind her and didnt clean her house for a while..and she just very unhappy.secondly..its my december, not hers. depressed people are going to identify with this, buy the cd and get more depressed, raising the suicide rate. in december. next!
my angel, michael. he is not happy..he is in fact, constipated. his mxit status would be grumpy at this point. be he is forgiven, since i had not breezed into his life at this time. then you get the other extreme: exhibit 3: 
our very own, home grown hunk-a-burning yum...blackie swart - who by the way has just eaten a huge steak and is extremely happy to be here against the bright yellow, with his trusty guitar and his 40 variations of the same song. go blackie!! but im afraid sales wont be great..coz nobody likes that one person with a happy mxit presence, no.
so finally, when i entered micheal's life, we found a middle gorund. behold! the perfect album cover pic..just the right amount of yumminess to make happy people happier and sad people smile..which is why my angel is sooo successful (my cooking has something to do with it too).
of course, i am the inspiration behind the tracks :) in this pic, i have just tickled him and he is now thinking about how lucky he is...his mxit presence would be in lurv.so cute!! so the whole 'im going to die wihtout your love' look jst doesnt work for me. i mean, get real man, you're making loads of money, look a little happier! and do yourself a favour and eat a burger before you get more anorexic. i like that guy who won Britain's got talent - he doesnt fit the mould of being this young, cool popstar, but he rocks! and he was a cellphone salesman...his response to the stardom is a big smile and 'yeah, this is bonkers!' you wouldnt find Robbie being all humble like that (sorry joe).
Our dear Dollop was sitting in his car (green one as you can see) when my initials pulled up beside him ;) and yes…I will admit, I make bread. Quality bread. Which is why im so busy that I cant reply to some messages and sometimes I cant go out on Saturday nights – its coz of the bread. And no, I don’t know why the price of bread is so high. All I know is that people are paying for my initials. Branding I think its called.
Speaking of branding, missQ went to a late movie at Suncoast – my god, if you want to see branding, just take a breeze through amid the swarm of jhb holiday makers…erm, but I’ll admit I had my own Roxy theme going ;) was that an evening to remember…my little cousin walked out of the games area at way past midnight, looked at me and echoed many of the sentiments of some weary gamblers – ‘Q, im bankrupt now’ lol, she is too cute. Try venturing into a ladies bathroom during an interval – nobody warned me. I got squished in line between an old lady in the front and this young, almost too friendly chick behind me. This girlie also had no idea of personal space, which for someone with a double D, needs to stop traumatizing ppl like me. Anyway, so the old lady in front of me somehow stepped on my toe…and she turns around and says, oh, so sorry bheti – I’m diabetic.’ I didn’t know whether to say its ok for killing my toe, or say im sorry that you’re ill. So I just made friends.
There’s something about waiting in line to use the loo that makes it gross. Maybe its that thought that there are more germs around, or that everybody knows that you’re there to..do your business. It just makes me want to flush myself to Singapore. And then I look around and think…hey that lady didn’t wash her hands- she cant be too clean in the loo…and then I get all panicky and fidgety like Monk. And then you have those lil kids that prance outa the loo. God knows what they left in there. Ladies bathrooms are not very ladylike. Even that hand drier thing. You have to touch to get it to start. Ew. But those new sensor things are cool. Even the sensor taps that jhb international airport..OR tambo, has. They get me all excited. In high school, we had pink and purple bathrooms for the girls. And people used to write things on the wall like the hottest guys this month or things like ‘Look up!’ And on the ceiling somebody wrote ‘haha, made you look, I can see what you’re doing.’ Funny now, but back then I was the new kid and it freaked me out! Made for some interesting reading, but our loos weren’t as cool as the guys who had white and black bathrooms. I don’t know what went on in there; maybe juju or nazeer can elaborate. There are rules to being in a ladies bathroom. Firstly, you don’t look at the person next to you in the mirror, no matter how much her funky hair or cleavage is demanding the attention. Also, don’t talk to people you don’t know. Just smile gracefully, like ‘yeah, my deposit is made of gold- in your face.’ The last thing you want to do is become best friends and have her say at wedding – ‘I met her in the loo’ although, I have made some friends in the bathroom…one of whom had locked herself in the cubicle by accident, and of course, the Suncoast lady. Also, don’t twirl around in the full length mirror. I did that once and people walked in and I just stopped in mid-twirl and rushed off and I could still hear em giggling. Omg. And please, make sure you are actually walking into the ladies room – not the men’s room. We wont mention any past incidents about that. I have erased them for my mental health.
Q is happy J very happy…what more does a girl need than a buttercup and some fresh air…
im trying to post a pic. of choc chip muffins...but this blog thing is screwed up. anyway. i wish choc muffins upon all of you..and an amazing long weekend. try not to break anything, crash anything, steal anything, hurt anything, swear anything, kill anyone, run over anyone, slap anyone, throw things (unless you have good reason) burn anything, hit anything, stab yourself, slit your ankles, poison yourself, and please. dont forget to moisturise.
hugs
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