August 15th, 2018

Another Comment gone lengthy …0

This time it was Vora’s blog that got victimized… By the time I was finished, I was too drained to work on an entry of my own, so I thought might as well put it up here. I think it would be best if I stopped going to other blogs – for others’ blogs and for mine. Below was in response to a discussion on EU demanding that Turkey strike off adultery from the punishable crimes list if it wanted in with the EU.

Benjamin, I realize we come from two different worlds, and like you said we obviously subscribe to a different view of as to to what extent can/should a government get involved in the lives of the people. More importantly, coming from different cultures we define adultery differently – not the act, but the implications of the act. To you it is an act that affects a family or two, to me it is a violation of society’s integrity. Most importantly, I believe you confuse two very different aspects of law. One is having a law, the other is enforcing it. However interrelated the two may be, they are different in essence. The success of one is contingent upon that of the other’s. Having a perfect law but not enforcing it justly and properly, as is the case in the examples you quote, is as futile as are rigorous attempts to enforce a flawed law. Yet, we must understand that inability to enforce a law is no premise to scrap the law. The real issue then is to find ways to enforce the law properly. A question Vora raises in her comment. The law as laid down by Islam would take a post of its own, but suffice it is to say that if it were enforced in spirit, there would be very few, if any, convictions for the crime. The harshest penalty attached to the crime is more to underline the severity of the crime than anything else. Like you said, to actually enforce the law we would probably have to have cameras installed in every room – not very practical you will agree. That, however is a different discussion.

We can debate the status of adultery as a social crime or not for ages, and still not mutually agree. Middle East and much of the Islamic bloc is backward enough, thankfully, to not have come up with a euphemism for a bastard child. The repercussions of adultery can thus have far reaching effects on such an individual, and hence his reaction to the world around him. I agree that drunken driving and some other crimes I had mentioned can have fatal consequences, and I can understand why you feel they must be punishable. But then, fraud, theft, tax evasion and many other crimes are punishable by the Government also, even though they do not necessarily lead to fatal consequences. Isn’t adultery the worst kind of fraud? Isn’t it the biggest breach of a contract between two individuals? Food for thought. It is again a matter of what a society attaches more value to. Theoretically, a breach of trust that carries a monetary tag is within the jurisdiction of a capitalist government, while one that carries social stigma might be deemed punishable by a government attaching more value to social well-being than to monetary well-being. (Yes, I know they are not entirely mutually exclusive).

You make a strong point about the need to perpetually question the values of a society, I would add just this: Such questioning should be done with a view to making the values and hence the society better, not for the sake of questioning alone. Development, sometimes I think, is over rated. Development when not in tandem with social well being is not all that desirable.

In the end, I would like to clarify my point about us having to put up with the nudity of our western/westernized guests here in the Middle East. I did not mean to make a sweeping statement, nor do I intend to deride anyone. I am sorry for having sounded so earlier. It is again a question of difference in social values. In a society, where women traditionally cover themselves head to toe, most if not all out of their own choice, deep necklines, short skin baring outfits ARE considered bordering on nudity. Our guests in this country do know that, yet it does not seem to perplex them. The point however I was trying to make was that we accommodate them nonetheless, there are no laws that define any dress codes for anyone. The UAE, though a small country, is home to over 120 nationalities, and it makes for a nice potpourri. Not everything is great about this country, but most things are, tolerance being one of them. The other point was that the western/westernized guests do not respect the local customs and traditions because they are convinced that these are base/outdated/under developed laws inferior to those in their own countries. It is the same attitude that gives EU the cheek to interfere in something as private as a country and hence a society’s stance on what does or does not fall under the penal code of that country.

Frankly, I could not care less whether or not Turkey joined the EU, or whether or not the adultery law is repealed. It is just that I am intrigued by the EU’s demand that implies a lot more than it explicitly says.

Hope to have clarified myself.


Ummeedo’n Ke Aseer0

Acha hota….
Jo Ummeedo’n ke aseer na’n hotey
Hum nafrato’n ke safeer na’n hotey

Ke merey darwazey se teri dahleez…
Itney khwabu’n duur na’n hoti
Itney Wado’n paar na’n hoti

Behtar tha…
Keh mohabbat mashroot na’n hoti,
Keh nafrat marboot na’n hoti.

Keh rishtey marhoon na’n hotey,
Keh dil madfoon na’n hotey,

Mumkin to tha…
… keh ummeedo’n ke aseer na’n hotey.


I have always been blessed with great great people around me. People I have had the fortune to learn from and model myself on. The list starts with my mother, my father, and includes scores and scores of people from friends to teachers, to writers to fictional characters. Any good that I am capable today is because of their influence. All my shortcomings are a reflection of the challenges these great people have had to face.

Felicity is a dear friend, and the closest. Someone who has stood by me through thick and thin, guided me with excellent advice, and saved me on numerous occasions from my own stupidity. Felicity is also the most gifted person I know. I have been a fan for 6 years now, and will be so for the coming 60. I have been planning posts dedicated to individual friends, and one on Felicity should come soon. For now, check out my friend being herself.

Three days on …0

Were Badar and I friends? I am not sure.

He was a semester junior to me, and probably did not even know my name for the whole time I was there. I knew his because a few of my friends had taken a few courses with him in the past, and when he had got engaged, it was news. Not many in our friends were engaged at that time.

He knew my face, and I his. We were introduced sometime in 2002,about four years after we had passed out. Salman, his wife, Osman, and Faisal are all from the 18th batch, as is Badar’s wife, and as was Badar. Osman was the last to get married, and when finally he had, he had stopped over in Dubai for a short while on his way to Qatar. Faisal had used the opportunity to manage a get together of all PCBA walas. That is when we had actually exchanged any greetings. We had met a couple of times in his brother’s office after that, when I had gone there on business. We had spoken over the phone a few times. I am not sure that constitutes a friendship. We were acquainted. We knew each other. He knew my story, and I his.

Today is the third day since I found out about his slaying. It still disturbs me no end. News of death, killing and mayhem are an everyday matter in our world. The pictures of maimed Iraqi and Palestinian children, of scores of mutilated Iraqi bodies lying in the aftermath of US attacks on residential areas, and before that similar pictures everyday of Afghanis have been in the papers everyday for over three years now. Pictures of my people, children of my nation killed by the enemy without mercy. Yet, they saddened me a little less with every passing day, as I got used to seeing them. One would have thought one’s sensibility to violent death would have been blunted over three years.

No. Nothing prepares you for the news of the violent death of someone you knew – whether or not you were close to the person.

Three days, I have gone about my life as usual. It makes me feel guilty. I stifle my jokes, and feel guilty I could think of any at all. I switch off the music in the car guiltily as I am reminded of the tragedy. Every now and then a BMW 3 series whizzes past me, and I am reminded of the tragedy. I stood for namaz, and my mind was flooded with the thoughts and images of what might have had transpired. I go about my life as usual – almost. A strange melancholy pervades everything.

I spoke to his brother yesterday, and to his wife. I have never been this tongue tied in my entire life. I really did not know what I could or should have said that would have consoled them. There are legal complications with Immigration and Police authorities, and the body has still not been released to the family. It is still in the morgue awaiting its burrial. I just found out today that it was actually Ejaz who had gone with Badar’s wife to the police to lodge a complaint about him gone missing. I also found out that they were childhood friends, that Badar and his family were responsible for helping Ejaz get into UAE, that Ejaz is the same fat and bespectacled guy who used to be sitting in a corner of Badar’s brother’s office. How terrible it gets. How morbid it becomes.

I cannot help but think about myself. What if my Riba-infested existance came to an abrupt end? Would I be forgiven for the thousands and thousands of transgressions I have logged into my record over the years?

A shudder follows another at the very thought. Death is frightening, but its the after-life that petrifies me. The one thing that this tragedy has underlined for me is that after-life could begin anytime. .. and I am not prepared at all.

Istaghfirullahi min kulli zanbin wa atoobu ilaih.

A Family Destroyed.0

Osman called from Qatar a while ago with terrible news. Badar has been murdered by that shady guy he was hanging out with lately. His mutilated body was found this morning after he went missing a week ago. He leaves behind a wife, and an adorable little daughter.

I am not sure what exactly is it that is going through my head. I am not sure I have recovered from the shock just yet. Death is always sad, and at such young age – Badar was a semester junior to me in MBA, it is tragic. Violent death like this of someone, you have known for some time, is …. I do not have a word.

My mind is flooded by the images of what he must have had to endure before finally he was rescued by death. Osman said his skull was fractured, legs broken, and throat slit. I shudder to think of the pain he was put through. He was not a very well-built young man. Actually, he was very thin, almost fragile. It is not as if his murderer, Ejaz, had to face much struggle from him. This guy was heavily built and brawny. I had met them a few months ago at McDonalds. Ejaz was carrying Badar’s daughter in his arms. Didn’t he even think of her when he took her father away from her?

Why the torture?

They were friends.


Badar and his wife were both in the 18th batch, and we would often remark at how the two petite people formed a nice couple. He was a lively guy. I did not always agree with his sense of humour, but he was a live wire. He elicited laughs wherever he was, and would almost always take centre stage in social gatherings. He was the youngest in his own household, and took liberties no-one else in his family could. And now he is no more.

We, human beings, are such savage animals. We are the only animals who kill knowing full well how one death will destroy a whole household. Yet, we kill.

I am sorry for rambling on like this. Please remember Badar in your prayers, and pray for his family and for his forgiveness in the life hereafter.

Ejaz has been apprehended, and has confessed to his crime. I can think of nothing nice for him. Right now, I hope … I do not want to say it.


I was busy clogging Faramin’s commenting system a few hours ago, and the discussion reminded me of something I had written in March 2003 (I have it entered date-wise in my byaz). This, I think, was a while before the actual full scale attack on Iraq had commenced.

With due apologies to the non-Urdu visitors to the blog, I copy it below:

Tumharey sawal paicheeda hai’n Yawar,
Jawab ki ummeed chod do to acha hai,
Jin aainoo’n ka sach,
Tumharey chehrey ko maskh kar de,
- Tun un aainoo’n ko tod do to acha hai!

Ab sach ki bali chadh ke,
Tum kia kar guzro ge?
Ab kisi jhoot ka pardah faash bhi karo,
Kisi ghasib ka daaman chaak bhi karo,
To khoonei’n galiyun ka jo tum pe qarz hai…
Tum woh qarz kia ada kar guzro ge?
- Ab tum yeh baate’n chod do to acha hai!

Jab aandhiyu’n ke jhakkad chalney lagey the’y,
Jab tez hawa ke,
Kaandhun pe sawaar,
Kaali rait ke anbar,
Tumharey shehar kee faseelo’n ko dhaaney lagey the’y,
To tum ghar ke darwazu’n pe quful daaley,
Khud farebi main ghalta’n baithey the’y,
- Ab tum kaf-e-afsos na’n malo to acha hai!

Jo bach gaya hai samaa’n samaet lo,
Baandho rakht-e-safar, bistar lapaet lo,
Dar-o-deewar sada detey hee rahei’n gay,
Yaad aien gay gali koochey, rote’y bhi rahein gay,
Tum aankhun main dard bhar aasma’n taktey ho,
- Ab sharmsaar nazren phair lo to acha hai!

Jo gurdan uthi hee nahin,
Woh cut bhi gayee to ghum kaisa?
Jo himmat bandhee hee nahin,
Wo chhut bhi gayee to ghum kaisa?
Tum ne khudi ko khud maar giraya tha,
- Ab Sarhaney bain nan karo to acha hai!

Merey jawab kadwe’y bohat hai’n Yawar,
Tum sawal na’n karo to acha hai!


An absence of exactly 10 days – how does one go about explaining that? One could start by admitting that one is a champion laggard, given to procrastination, and an aspiring hibernator. Having said that I think the culprit may, this time, be let off the hook because he has a few plausible excuses. Chief among them is the fact that the home PC decided to get into Ramadan spirit, and invited a few worms and viruses over to spend Ramadan with us. As was to be expected the guests made most of the invitation, and made themselves comfortable in the CPU. The CPU thus had to be delivered to ICU, where the guests were rather unceremoniously expelled from the ravaged CPU. Unfortunately, yours truly and family were paid a visit by the less tech-savvy, but equally infectious relatives of the CPU’s viral guests. These guests continue to exploit our hospitality, resulting in one’s prolonged absence from Blogistan. If it is any consolation, one cannot be accused of forgetting about Blogistan even for a while, and one must actually be commended for periodically checking in on what was happening in knicqland from one’s office.

10 days is a long time, and a lot has transpired in these 240 hours. The holy month of Ramadan, the month of blessings, has arrived. Ramadan is the ninth month of the Islamic calendar, and this is the month of fasting for Muslims world over. The people, instead of practicing restraint in indulgence (Thank you for the concept, Felicity) have gone the exact opposite way – as they do every year. There is more eating than usual, more unnecessary spending, more rash driving (please see da Momma’s detailed account of Ramadan’s bearings on driving in my country), and more of everything that ought to be brought under control in essence. It is ironic. People have made Ramadan an excuse to propagate exactly what they were to practice shunning in this month. The least difficult, and the most symbolic requirement of this month of fasting is made into the most important and often the only point of fasting i.e. Not eating or drinking from before sunrise until sunset. At least, our Arab brethren have got one thing right. I have found them to be more forgiving, and more consciously seeking Allah’s pleasure by being more hospitable and more charitable. My company’s M.D agreed to remove the work ban they had put on one of my colleagues only last month – just because this is Ramadan and he would like to be nice and charitable and take “Ajr� / reward for his deed. By comparison we in Pakistan spend the whole month trying to ensure we manage the five prayers on time, finish the Quran’s recitation, and manage the eating and non-eating times for optimal results. Nothing wrong in any of the above, but the three are not the only points of Ramadan. We seem to have over-looked that aspect.

The other historic event to take place in the last ten days, actually on the first of those ten days is that the haunjoe kid, Talhah, has started school. 11th October, as the kvetcher celebrated her arrival in this world, Talhah went about haunjoeing his first day in school. It was a difficult decision, choosing a school for him. We wanted one of the top English Medium schools, which would lay emphasis on Islamic teachings, Arabic, and Urdu. Understandably, this is a combination not easily found. There are lots of English medium schools here, most of them lay emphasis on Islamic teachings, all of them teach Arabic, and very few offer Urdu. We settled for an Arab school that has American Muslims for English teachers, follows Cambridge curriculum, and does not offer Urdu. It is a five minute drive from home, and at this point we thought it was important that he did not have to wake up at 6 in the morning and wait till two or three in the afternoon before he got home. It is kindergarten for God’s sake. By the time he gets into KG II, Insha Allah, we will move him to this Islamic school started and run by British converts to Islam. Hopefully, he will have picked up a little conversational Arabic by that time.

Talhah went to school like an obedient child for the first two day, and we were surprised by how he did not complain of not wanting to go, and did not throw a tantrum at the school gates. He obliged on his third day, amply making up for his first two days’ peace. Then came the weekend, over which he borrowed cold from his sibling, and managed to stay out of school for the next three days. The last two days have been full of tantrums and fits, and we have now asked the school management to transfer him to a section where either the teacher or at least one student speaks Urdu. Waits to be seen if that transfer can be arranged. If not, we might have to consider that British school just now, and then the poor thing will have 2 hours of drive time added to his school time.

Saturday should see us take a decision.

Those folks are two things I would have blogged about in the last ten days, had the pc been home. Should be blogging more often now that the CPU is cured, and I have had my three days of sniffing, and achoo-ing.

Do you accept this Pakistan?3

Do you accept this Pakistan … this was the title of a report on the various “Cultural Activities” mushrooming in the land of the pure. It was posted on a certain forum for the expat Pakistanis, and a discussion had ensued. The response of most of our countrymen in Dubaidom was that of shock and utter disgust. Here we were thinking we were so much better than the faltering Arabs, and then we realised that we were no better than anyone. Worse, if at all. I am not sure if it is right or wrong, but many of us who were born here and weaned on the concept of “Islamic Republic of Pakistan”, who live our lives as Proud Pakistanis taking pride in our conservative values, are jolted when brought face to face with what is rather than what should have been. I got my jolts back in 1994 when I had landed in Islamabad. I have since developed an immunity to the attempts at “Liberalization”, and was therefore not really shocked at the report. Merely saddened.

I am sitting here in my office, trying to locate a boring official document, and I chanced upon this below peice that I had posted in response. It got me thinking, a year down the road, I feel just the same….

“A few years ago, I had a friend visit me from Lahore. We were room mates in our college days. It was good having him here, and reminiscing the fun days – the late nights at our room, the jesting, the animated arguments, the movies, and then the very early breakfast at some Doodh-Dahi ki dookan. The most adventurous moral transgression was limited to an odd rated movie, or a pack of cigarettes. (I will not have you believe we were all saints)

Then, he proceeded to tell me how he had had a chance to witness another way of life in Lahore. A private party at a bungalow, drinking and dancing, 30-something sari clad ladies making rather indiscreet passes at this 21 year old, and the party culminating in the wee hours of the morning after much hoopla. I brushed most of it aside thinking the story was heavily exaggerated – and I made room for the possibility that this was perhaps a norm in a secluded segment of the society. This couldn’t be happening in the mainstream Pakistani society. No Sirreee – Our people would have no part of it.

Little had I realized then that the truth would be driven home so forcefully, so soon.

No, of course not! I do not accept this Pakistan.

This is not the Pakistan our forefathers had envisioned. If this were the society we intended to become, we had no reason to go through the bloodshed of 1947, and the subsequent wars. Before long, the protagonists of this wave of debauchery will begin to ask this very fundamental question. And it will pass down the strata of the society. We are a confused nation as it is. This main stream departure from what is left of our identity will bankrupt us.

I am all for peace and tolerance. I endorse any measures taken to curb Terrorism, sectarianism, sectarian violence and extremism. (I am a proud fundamentalist). I am the most vocal proponent, you will find, of an enduring peace in South East Asia, and specifically between Pakistan and India. That is a lot really, when you factor in the fact that I am from Azad Kashmir. It works more in our favor than it does in India’s. India is well on it’s way to becoming an economic giant, if you don’t consider it one already. It can afford to set aside petty cash to encourage or counter misadventures on the LOC. We cannot.

But, let us just be sure that peace with India does not become a merger with India. Cultural or Geographical. Let us remember what our identity is. Liberal/Moderate thought is not and should not be deemed to be limited to heads on naked shoulders. It’s only pre-requisite is responsible shoulders. Let those shoulders be ours.”

Definition distress.0

Faramin, Thank you for your comments and kind words. Coming from someone who writes as well as you do, they are really flattering. I hope I can emulate your coherent and articulate writing… soon. Thank you for the link to your blog too. I look forward to reading more of your views and opinion.

Laura, I am often surprised to see the effectiveness of rhetoric as an opinion shaping tool, especially so in the United States. Freedom is when people are free as God meant them to be. When they are enslaved by corrupt (and rather dumb) leadership and conniving, deceptive, and lying media I think songs of freedom are but ironic.

The point, I was also trying to make earlier, is that definitions of freedom, harmony and happiness vary from culture to culture and region to region. It is this variance that lends the world its colors. However, this variance cannot be used by one society as a premise to attack another. No one definition of an ideal society can be applied to all and any societies, and certainly no one model of a perfect civilization will fit all sizes.

A civilization cannot be imposed, it evolves over time. The Bush brigade needs to understand that perhaps we in the third world think ourselves better off under our dictators or monarchs, when given a choice between a system of government and systematic bombing. Moreover, perhaps our democratically elected leaders do more harm to our National interests than good. Pakistan, my country is a case in point. This is no argument in favour of dictatorships or monarchies, or one against democracy. That is precisely the point though. As long as we think we are better off, we will be content, and contentment leads to happiness. Isn’t that the whole point? Or are we to be told by others when we are happy or not? Must we be bombed for being happy under the “wrong” circumstances?

The long and short of it is that the US has no right to come invading into our countries because she thinks we are not complying with her set of moral and social standards, just as we in third world do not have any right to label the US evil, decadent, or infidel because of the different way the Americans (in the movies) live their lives. We are not as strong as the US militarily, but even if we were, I doubt we would go about carpet bombing the US because they had WMDs, and might use them against us someday, or because they do not practise our kind of democracy, or do not begin their mornings with our brand of cereal.

Taking what you said a bit further, I would say Americans need to realize that just about everybody out there hates getting bombed as much as the Americans do. To Iraq’s bombed, it is of little consequence if their country is run by a dictator or a stooge. They need the medicines, which by the way they used to have under a bloody and corrupt dictator; the food, they never had to worry about before the Bushes jumped into the picture; the shelter, destroyed by Bush Brigade not Saddam/Sadr, and a semblance of the life they had before some one decided to liberate them.

A comment gone lengthy.0

Something I could not post on Laura’s blog because of space constraints, and am running out of time to break same into peices.

This thread made for a good read. I regret that I am too late to participate in the discussion, but then I guess I could never have covered it as well as Faramin did.

No offense to the other contributors to the discussion. I just do not understand how anyone can spend so much energy justifying mass massacres around the world in the name of bringing peace and harmony to the world. There have been many allusions to the cosmic war between good and evil. There have been many songs sung in praise of Freedom, and quite a few times morality was the point of discussion.

No one really came back and explained where is the good in exercising the freedom to kill half a million children of a nation over a decade of sanctions and feel morally correct about it?
The sanctions were levied by the US, the holy, on Saddam, the terrible, and unless he complied he would have to bear with the deaths of half a million children of his country on his conscience. Wonderful. So, if a man is corrupt and mistreating his family, we go in and hold his family ransom until he complies to our demands to be nice to them. And if in the process, the family has to be sacrificed, (Starved or bombed), so be it. Good needs sacrifice.

Nations cannot be attacked on the premise of good and evil, which of late has come to be the justification for ravaging Afghanistan and Iraq. The Taliban were meanies, had no respect for the rights of anybody, and oppressed their own people, and ditto for Saddam. There was no democracy in either of these countries, or for that matter in the other virtually crime free and violence free Oil rich nations of the Arabian Gulf, so that constitutes a reason for sabre rattling, (and soon enough invasion and bombing). What kind of logic is that?

If tomorrow, by some twist of fate these countries become more powerful than the US and the Britian, would they be justified in invading and bombing the latter two into oblivion because the crime rate is too high in their societies, because teen pregnancies are on the rise, because pre-marital sex is rampant in these countries, because alocohol and pork are consumed freely there? Sounds ridiculous doesn’t it? Well, so does the premise of freedom and democracy for an invasion to a people who live a peaceful life in the GCC countries, without fear of crime or what is moral degradation to them.

Let the Americans put themselves in our shoes and think – what if a bully came along and dictated his way of life to them. How would they feel living under the threat of invasions, and daisy cutters???

Estes, you have these mysterious people you work with, who give you access to sensitive inside information. You will not buy into credible and specific evidence provided to you because of your own biases, why should your unnamed “sources” be more acceptable?

These are just thoughts that had accumulated as I read through the exchanges. I realize they must sound incoherent. But the facts that led to these thoughts were facts, everyone’s facts. (Didn’t Faramin say this somewhere, something about one’s right to one’s own opinion but not one’s own facts). I hope we can pay more attention to facts as they are, and not put a spin on them. The fact is that millions of people are dead, because of the decisions US governments took on their behalf – hundreds of thousands of children were maimed, starved, bombed and murdered because they had to be “liberated”.

Hundreds die everyday.

Just found something else very funny… The US forces are invading Iraq, and the Iraqis fighting them are called rebels/militants. Why can’t they just be Iraqis, who do not want the US forces on their land? And why can’t the US forces be the enemy? The occupying oppressing force? The Abu Gharib-imprisoning-dogs-unleashing torturers?

Regards to all.


The other day, I set out to make a list of things I would have liked to accomplish. It was an exercise in self loathing. There was so much that I had wanted to do, a bit too much actually, by the time I was knocking on the dreaded thirties…

…I had to be the Prime Minister of Pakistan, and set the house right. I had to be the greatest Military Commander the world had ever seen, and would have gone down in the historian’s records as the person who had liberated Kashmir, Palestine, and all the other beleaguered people of the world. I had to be the person who would win Urdu’s first (and maybe the second and the third) Nobel Prize for Literature, and if I won a couple for Peace and Economics, so much the better. I was to be the greatest athlete the country would have produced, and the most articulate dashing young man to come out of the continent. I was also to be what today Bill Gates is, cheating bugger – stole my idea, and was to be the greatest son of the continent, the nation, the country and the couple who brought me into this world. I was to be the bestest of friends, and the funniest of humorists. Lofted unrealistic ideas, you might say, but hey! I was 15, a dreamer, and a loser. At least, I am not 15 anymore.

However, this was not the list of accomplishments-in-waiting that had set me on the long dark path to self loathing. Had this been the list, yours truly would have added “The Late” or “Allah Bakhshey” to his name by now. The accomplishments-in-waiting are no less daunting though, when looked at from the perspective of a fat, bald, bespectacled, 30-here-I-come narcisisst wanna be, and slightly more realistic than he was at 15 under-achiever (Ahem!). It is certainly more do-able though, see if you agree with me…

  • Get a degree in Business Administration from a recognized institute.
  • Get another degree in a totally new descipline, Computers/Psychology/Philosophy/Mathematics…
  • Learn a new Language – Spanish or Mandarin.
  • Be a good son.
  • Learn Swimming.
  • Learn Riding.
  • Learn Shooting.
  • Learn Flying an aeroplane.
  • Get in Shape.
  • Get a new job.
  • Read.
  • Write.
  • Be the nicest guy around.
  • Win a Million.
  • Not lose a Million.
  • Pay off the Bank.
  • Get a third degree (Not the one Pakistan police is known for)

Call it the three Year Plan, but it should keep me busy for six. Doable? Whaddaya say?

… or am I still 15?

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