❤❀☮☪✞Teenage Odyssey✡☯☮❀❤

i-dobelieveincommas:

destructs:

Christopher Jonassen
Devour, 2013

At first glance, these objects may look like planets but they are actually photos of the bottoms of frying pans.

I’M SO MAD RIGHT NOW

pakistanigal:

Last night, we went to the play who’s brochure you see above, Aangan Terrha, (Aangaan is what we call the courtyard found in old traditional homes, which was much like a living room, and where the family met basically, as all rooms led to the courtyard. Terrha means crooked, implying something’s not right :P)— no, we didn’t buy the tickets, we’re too cheap for that, but our bank invited us, which turned out to be the most good any bank has done in the history of the world.

This was my first time at a play, or anything (i’ve never been to a film cinema), and hence i was excited, but after the hour long wait in our seats, the pain in my bum wore off the excitement, which was only reignited when the play was about to start. From the moment that our great literary figure and writer of this play, Anwar Maqsood, introduced the play, to the moment the curtains parted, to the darkness between scenes, it was by far the most surreal experience of my life so far. Surreal, because there was someone famous i’d only seen on television giving a speech, standing right there, and my mind was unable to comprehend that, or the fact the play that the wonderful actors were acting wasn’t another stage play re-running on tv, but happening in real life in front of me. The only time i came back to earth was when the darkness engulfed the theater, and i took the opportunity to clap and scream like a groupie.

Then came the end, and i was amongst the first to offer a standing ovation, and as everyone began to leave after Mr. Maqsood’s closing speech, i asked for a pen, and as my mother handed me a pointer, i decided to get the autograph on the envelope instead of the planned brochure. As i pushed through the crowd, and approached the stage, ANWAR MAQSOOD JUST A FEW FEET AWAY!, i had to deviate from my original plan, and ask for Akbar’s (Yasir Hussain’s) autograph.

I approached him, and with my body rhythmically shaking, i said “Akbar” , as i had no idea what his name was then, and asked for an autograph, to which he so kindly obliged, asking my name and writing a little message. I didn’t bother to read it, but took it, and was slightly irked at the fact that he wrote across the whole envelope; now where would i get HIS autograph? I remembered the corporate letter, took it out (and as i late found out, dropped a ticket), and approached the humble man himself.

‘Sir?…. Sir?’, i spoke, nearly speechless in shock as the man i’d grown up admiring on tv was in front of me, but my mind was so determined to get that autograph, i managed to utter those words. He turned to me with his kind, faint smile, and i held out my hand, which he lightly shook (obviously being a decent man he wouldn’t just go shaking the hand of a girl, especially one in a burqa/abaya :P), and i asked for an autograph. As he handed it back to me, i said “Sir, what should i say?”, to which he so kindly gave me a light, and socially acceptable, side hug; that hug, basically completed my life at that point in my life. And i went away, shaking, still unable to comprehend what just happened. Reason being, this was a dream for a while, to get the autograph of someone famous, especially someone like HIM, and to get it so soon and so easily in my life, i obviously handled this opportunity very clumsily, and i am still trying to comprehend that moment, so it may be cemented in my memory.

The reason i actually was so aggressive to get an autograph, was because when Moin Akhtar died, someone on radio remarked how they saw Moin Akhtar at an airport, and wished they had fulfilled their wish to shake his hand, which is also why i shook HIS hand; you may never have that opportunity again.

So i came home, happy, and finally looked at the autograph. The wonderful (and cute) Mr. Hussain wrote: Mushba, meri dua hai k aap ka aangan seeda rahe. Akbar…. Yasir. (Mushba, it is my prayer that your ‘aangan’ remains straight. Akbar… Yasir.). Whilst Mr. Maqsood wrote: ‘786. Khush raho. Anwar Maqsood. (786 being a short form for Bis-millah-ar-rehman-ar-rahim, stay happy, Anwar Maqsood.’)

This is also very special for me, because these were my first autograph’s, which i will deeply treasure till my last breath, along with the surreal experience, and the endless laughs.

Aangan Terrha is gonna go on for quite a while, the show i went to was the 36th out of 63! For information:03353307851, 03002549005. Tickets available at the venue, Karachi Art’s Council, or at Butler’s Chocolate Cafe Zamzama, for around Rs. 1500. I don’t know, for a first experience like mine, that’s definitely worth it, but then again we went for free :P