Thursday, October 22, 2015
There is a jellyfish that lives in the deepest, most darkest parts of an ocean. Its a jellyfish that is ugly to look at. Its name is Jelly.
Jelly was a proud creature. It was proud of its very long, slender tentacles. It possessed the typical features of a jellyfish but was not as luminous and transparent-looking as its other counterparts. In fact, it had a huge, deformed dome of a head that was so dark it left deep sea divers replete with disconcert at the sight of it, yet its blackness was perfect for its dismal and bleak surroundings, for it stayed camoflagued and masked, patiently waiting for its next unfortunate victim.
On the top of its head were yet more tentacles, more like pseudopodia, that were the colour of a fiery orange red as though carrying a small pudding of the hellfire (instead of an oasis) to "compensate" for its eery blackness. Time and again, it would pump out clouds of poisonous, dark, trepid solution that would ensnarl it and everything around it, favouring its living conditions.
It loved floating about, hither and dither and more than once in a while, liked causing havoc amongst other peaceful communities of the sea. It was so ugly to look at that even the most curious of scientists had pulled up an undocumented law amongst themselves that whoever near it was never to be approached again.
It had its own distinct and malicious way of preying. It was fond of grabbing its prey through its long, black, tarry, nodular tentacles, twisting and sqeezing the life out of the poor prey and finally with one powerful twist, disintegrating the whole creature into tiny bits which floated about its predator. Jelly then made a game out of it. It tested its speed with which it shot out its tentacles in all the different, possible directions, grabbing each piece of its victim's meat and finally consuming it.
It was nature at its worst.
It was a loathsome creature indeed. Jelly dwelled and nourished itself in dark energies that swirled and pulsated and surrounded it in whorls. It liked extracting dark energies from fights between distinct communities of the sea. It also sucked these energies from above and outside of the ocean.
However, it weakend if things were too peaceful around. It even died if that peace persisted too long because it endangered its living environment.
When it died, it laid washed up on the shore within a few days of its dying. As though, the ocean itself was eager to unburdern itself with the hateful creature. Jelly laid decaying in the sandy beach. It emitted aweful hisses of teeth-grinding, decaying smell.
"Pissssssss... Pissss..." Were the sounds that rang around it.
It seemed that even in death, it did not miss the opportunity to make everything around it shriek of death and decay.
The account I have written above is of a hypothetical creature, a pure product of my imagination. It probably does not exist in the real world. And even if it did exist, it is most likely in its very dormant, very primitive form, not exactly ready to turn into a monster that it is destined to turn into.
Jelly is a slang for a vice, that all of us humans are all too familiar with: Jealousy. And I needn't say much on this subject because I have already spoken enough in the form of my account of Jelly the Jellyfish; the nature of this feeling can be likened to all of the characteristics that Jelly the Jellyfish bears. (Perhaps, here you'd like to go back and read about Jelly again?)
Generally speaking, jealousy is found in every part of our life.
I am living the life of a medical student. And I am ashamed to say that this feeling did creep in me when I sat unaware of myself in my daily routine. I recognised this hateful feeling and began working to eradicate it. I am still in the process of eliminating it through prayers coupled with a very conscious effort. Sometimes I fail terribly. Sometimes I do manage to defeat it. But one must understand that it is an ongoing battle. And the best part about the whole process is... That you grow. Very much so, at your cellular level.
Wednesday, October 21, 2015
This is me right now:
I approached my books. They sat quietly in the far corner of my table. Their silence mocked me, teased me and turned my legs into jelly. The silence was turning ominous by the minute, until I could not take it anymore. It took all of my energy to turn myself away from those books, all the while feeling their "eyes" piercing through my back, prodding and then burning tiny holes as punishment for my abandoning them like that.
"I can't..." Was the only "explanation" I could manage at that point before running towards the distractions the idiotbox had to offer. I launched myself in the couch, struggled with the remote control and hastily turned on the tele. I sat there, disconcerted, switching between channels and finding it difficult to settle on a particular choice. I tried to absorb myself in all the chattering and bantering blaring from the tv, but this nutty heart felt as though it was being tugged by an invisible hook. The invisible hook tied to a thread of the purest form of gold that had shot from the books stacked on my table against the wall.
"Do you really want to run away from them...?"
I jumped. 'Who said that?' I thought. My eyes darting around. "Its your conscience, my dear (read: stupid) who else?"
I sighed and shook my head sadly. 'Not you again.
'Listen, Ms. Know-it-all! You know very well why I am doing this. I cant face all of that syllabi. How do you think I am supposed to complete that much of text in such a short period of time?!'
But my conscience was all mysterious: "Look within yourself to know the answer to that question."
And I couldn't deny it. The answer is indeed within me. If I look for it. And it wasn't like I had any other choice. Because every single day at college, someone would ask me how my exam prep was going and I'd just be like:
Friday, July 10, 2015
Today is the 20th of Ramzan. And my city is facing some major power breakdown. Its hot and humid. Our UPS is using its whatever remaining charges (read: breaths) to power our place. There is a little pain behind my eyes and I need to sleep a littlle. The power outage has brought some people out of their homes to stand in their balconies. Its like somebody has smoked us out of our houses.
At least, it has caused us to come out and breathe. We are watching the sunrise of 20th Ramzan (aka 8th July, Wednesday).
We have slid our loose mattresses out into our thankfully airy balconey to snooze a bit under the blue sky. I can see its a bit cloudy up there. Cloudy with a chance of meatballs. :P
The good part about the outage is that I got to recite Durood a 100 times, which I had been meaning to do since this Islamic month began. I am glad I have done it. (Er, thanks to this lights-out?)
And my cousin is hunched over her Quran text lit up in her mobile screen and is reciting it in a nice little melodious voice. She has been reciting for more than an hour now.
The bad part is ofcourse, its hot. But thankfully, its not as hot as the heatwave that hit the cities a few days ago. That was something. So many people collapsed as a result of the heatstroke. It was aweful. I hear in my city alone, death toll reached a whopping 850! Call it the incompetency of the government, the sick, corrupt minds of our people, or just Nature's way of ensuring the balance of things in this world.
This morning air feels so fresh. Its sweet and soft in my lungs.
Ouch! *smack!* you guessed it: mosquitoes! Sigh... -_-'
Its lights-out for 6 hours now, and counting.
I really hope they fix it up soon. I really do want to rest my eyes a little.
Tuesday, July 7, 2015
I slumped down heavily in the bench, tired and weary because of the little sleep I had had the night before. As I waited for the lecture to start, I let my eyes sweep over all the students who were entering the lecture theatre, settling down; the guys goofing around, the girls whispering, and squealing at the top of their lungs over the pettiest of the things, attracting the boys' attention. In my irritable state, all I could do was judge and think how childish these "future doctors" acted. I sighed. I let me eyes droop a little, however, all the while keeping all my senses alert for the moment the teacher entered the classroom, for I did not want to miss anything the teacher explained. Except that the class I was attending was going be lectured by a teacher who was (as everybody said with big frowns on their foreheads as they tried to impose the importance of what they said, that he was a PhD) always droning on off-topic in a completely unoriginal, thunderous voice that flowed in disorganized clumps of extremely high-pitched and extremely low-pitched notes.
But that is going to be the subject of my subsequent posts.
In the few minutes before the class was to start, I could not help but notice how weird people had become. How desensitized...
I saw girls coming in through the glass doors into the lecture hall, eyes darting around in hopes of catching a student with lecture notes or a new a book, shooting fake smiles across the benches toward their colleagues, leaning in and whispering to their "best friends", shrill and unreasonably bold, speaking flaunty sentences in English as loud as they could to what... What were they trying to show?
But lets face it. Shoot a few sentences in English to the people of my country and they are all over you. Best friends, howzzat?
Actually no, its just a part of the whole system that runs here. But lets leave it at that for the moment.
I don't know. May be people were like this before I was born. Or may be they have turned into such desensitized monsters in the 21st century.
I may be getting a bit too emotional here. Probably making up something really big out of something extremely insignificant. But this just bothers me.
Wait, let me give you an example. Not many days ago, we got our results for the annual examinations that we had given. This was blatantly announced on the all-girls' whatsapp group. The result was revealed in the form of a long white sheet with a printed list of only those roll numbers that had been successful in the exams, the people who had now been officially declared to have been passed and to move on and see the light of their subsequent year's education.
While those that weren't were to face a tough and trying time ahead for they had to reappear for the subjects that had held them back from officially getting into their next year of education.
As I observed, there were girls who flagrantly typed in "I have passed!!!" and "Awwww yiiiiisssss!!" And "God be praised!!!" on the group. For me, these girls had no heart or had complete disregard for the feelings of the girls who had quieted down in the group, for they sat struggling with the storm of defeated feelings that had probably raided their hearts the moment they realised their roll numbers weren't on the list.
Next came a text that otherwise would have been deemed normal, "could anybody send in pics of our Pathology lecture?"
While people were still recovering from the shockwave the sudden revelation of the result had caused, this was the near immediate text that came from a (now I believe, an apparently ignorant) girl.
My religion teaches that one must be careful in front of the person who is going through a hard time. One musn't boast about their wealth in front of the one who's less priviledged. One mustn't speak of their parents in front of an orphan. For such people already are sore and their wounds cannot bear anymore.
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