MEETING THE NEW NEIGHBOR

When you have a neighbor who has been nice to you, who has watched your house and fed your turtle while you were on vacation and who generally has not been a pain in the ass, it’s always sad when they pack up and move away. And once the good-byes are said and the obligatory promises to “keep-in-touch” are uttered the sadness is quickly replaced by a curious sort of excitement and anticipation. OK, they’re gone and they’re not coming back. So who is going to move in? Who is going to be my new neighbor?

“Maybe a crew of flight attendants will move in!” I joked to Spike.
“And maybe they’ll be men,” Spike joked back, failing to understand that some things simply aren’t funny and therefore should not be joked about.

I received my first hints regarding the new neighbor on Wednesday afternoon of last week. I had walked out front (Because really, what else have I got to do?) and saw the moving van parked next door. Something was definitely happening.

Not being the nosy sort, at least not to any extraordinary or illegal degree, I came into the house and sat at the computer. It was about an hour later when I heard it.

“Yip!”

Dear Jesus, no! I thought to myself. But the prayer, like all prayers, was an exercise in futility and I immediately heard the irritating noise again.

“Yip!”

This yip was followed by another and another, and then a veritable torrent of them was unleashed, as well as a cacophony of other hellish and inhuman sounds besides. And so I was forced to face the truth: The only thing that I knew for sure about my new neighbors was that they had brought with them one of nature’s most annoying and aggravating of creatures: the yappy little dog.

The yapping continued throughout most of the day as the dark clouds gathered over my head. I tried to read, I tried to write but always, always it was the piercing yip, yip, yip that dominated my consciousness like the relentless beating of a heart in some ancient tale by Poe.

Let me tell you one thing that you already know about the difference between owning a home and renting a home: When somebody rents the house or apartment next to you and they possess a disagreeable trait such as say, oh, being a terrorist or worse, owning a yappy little dog, there is a chance that you can grin and bear it. You might be able to ride out the situation, as they may very well move out in several months.

But when somebody buys the house next to you and they own a yappy little dog, you only have one hope and that is that the rat-sized mutt is already sixteen or seventeen years old, or extremely accident-prone, and you’ll only have to listen to him for a short time. I’m no dog expert, but I could tell by the frequency of the yips and the energy behind them that what we were dealing with here wasn’t much older than a pup; a pup who might very well be around long enough to happily yip on my grave. Despite a life filled with experiences that should have taught me otherwise, I was still somehow surprised by how cruel the fates can be.

The next day I was sitting at the computer when I heard someone moving things around in the yard at the house next door. I decided it was time to do the polite thing and introduce myself to the new neighbor. I went into the backyard and heard noises that confirmed someone was indeed there. (I also heard other, more irritating noises that confirmed that the yappy little dog was there as well.)

I looked through a crack in the tall redwood fence and saw only a patch of skin. Human presence now confirmed, I climbed onto a horizontal board and said in my most neighborly voice, “Hi, how ya doing?” (What a wit. And you wonder why I communicate more through writing than speaking?) I had yet to clearly see anybody, but I was able to discern that I had startled the person and immediately began to apologize. Meanwhile I got my footing steadied on the fence and so was better able to take in the vision that was to be my new neighbor.

It took my usually agile brain more than a moment to register what i saw..why before my very eyes was the most handsomest guy i have ever seen, mowing away happily as a cow..i was content.

That’s the trouble with the world today. People only care about themselves and very little about the happiness of their neighbors, whether they live in the house next door or half a planet away. We are all one big family on this big blue marble, boys and girls, and if we can’t even make the effort to tolerate, even welcome, a yappy little dog, then really what does this say about us as human beings?

The Ingedients Quiz: What's in that Crap?

You’ve heard it many times. You should eat whole foods, like fresh fruit and vegetables, and avoid the processed stuff. No flour, no sugar and no hormone-injected animal flesh. And I agree with all of this, in principle anyway. I know it’s right and I know that a healthier diet leads to a healthier and happier life. But as my brother always said, “It’s not my fault that Ho-Ho’s taste better than broccoli.”

But here in 2010, and especially here in Pakistan., we have gotten so far away from a diet that even slightly resembles the food your body is intended to consume. I’ve heard people say that we should eat what a caveman would eat, which I pretty much do, assuming the caveman is Fred Flintstone. So let’s try to be a little bit responsible tonight and take a quiz that asks the eternal question, “Exactly what is in that crap that you’re eating?” Have fun, no cheating and no taking breaks for a Ho-Ho or Ring-Ding or Devil Dog or Scooter Pie or Yodel or Sno-Ball or Twinkie or Zinger or…

And yes, all this junk below is coming from my kitchen cabinet.

1. Which can not be found in a can of Chicken of the Sea albacore tuna?
a. Vegetable broth
b. Salt
c. Pyrophosphate
d. Monosodium glutamate

2. A serving of Sugar Free Jell-O contains none of the following except?
a. Saturated Fat
b. Sodium
c. Carbohydrate
d. Trans Fat

3. Which does All Natural Pam Olive Oil Spray not contain?
a. Olive Oil
b. Grain alcohol
c. Ferrous Sulfate
d. Lecithin

4. Rice-A-Roni contains three of these unpronounceable things. Which one did I make up?
a. disodium inosinate
b. disodium guanylate
c. ferric orthophosphate
d. ferric crossthemersey

5. Which contain fructose?
a. Berries
b. Corn
c. Parsnips
d. All of the above

6. Why are there only six questions in this quiz?
a. I’m running out of products in my cabinet
b. This quiz is boring me spitless
c. The Daily Show is starting
d. All of the above.


ANSWERS

1. MONOSODIUM GLUTAMATE. So what?
2. SODIUM. So Jell-O has a trace of salt. It won’t kill you, you big baby.
3. FERROUS SULFATE. Didn’t I say it was “natural’?
4. If you laughed at FERRIC CROSSTHEMERSEY you have a great sense of humor. And you’re old.
5. ALL OF THE ABOVE. It’s high fructose corn syrup that comes from, well you figure it out.
6. ALL OF THE ABOVE. But mostly “b.” I knew I should have tossed this post-it the other night when I had the chance.

I beg to differ...

Pre-Nursery…

I’m coloring. Furiously. I’m focusing all my energies on filling those white spaces because my teacher wasn’t too pleased with them last time around. Those and the crayon marks outside the picture. I was not supposed to color the rest of the page. Yup that meant that the sky was supposed to be left white, unlike the deep blue I had filled it with. I was only required to fill in those drawings. I was also not supposed to draw a smile on the sun’s face, no sir- even though I knew the Telitubies rose each morning to a sun that always smiled.
And I had to remember, nobody’s face is brown. Nu-uh. Or yellow. You either leave faces blank, or color them with peach crayon. I also had to color in a single direction…
Too many instructions that I had to retain in my pea sized brain. I was forgetting them; it was like trying to hold water in my cupped hands- and like the water they were trickling away. Coloring was hard work and no more fun.
Kindergarten…

I’m sitting in my class, tongue stuck out, eyes narrowed, concentrating on the alphabet. Mommy wasn’t too happy when she got hold of my report card yesterday. Apparently, I do not know the right way to hold my pencil. I hold it between my thumb and index finger and that is not the right way. “No wonder her writing is so untidy,” the teacher had snapped.
I need to wedge the wooden paraphernalia between my thumb, index finger and my middle finger. That is the only way to hold a pencil.
Grade 2…

Urdu Teacher tells me to rethink if I wanted to discuss ‘Timatar’ as my favorite fruit. I tell her I do. The essay is returned with a big, fat, red zero on top. As big, fat and red as the tomato I had drawn at the bottom of the page. I try to argue with her how the Science teacher had told us it was a fruit. She tells me to stop creating such a fuss; everybody knew tomatoes are vegetables and not fruits. Tears well up in my eyes. It was the first time I got a zero.
At a party…

Everybody is dancing. So am I; twirling around like a mystic, the music is intoxicating. I close my eyes and spin round and round in circles-till my head starts spinning and I feel like I’m floating. It feels so good, so...light… Till she taps on my shoulder and tells me it’s not the way we dance. I wasn’t following the steps. I open my mouth to argue and a minute later, I am being escorted away. They’re pointing and giggling at me.Their eyeballs that are glued to the nape of my neck, the way they laugh at me stings like a bitch.
Tonight…

I tell them they will regret curbing down their individuality, and I am shunned away. The city gates no longer welcome me. I trudge on barefoot and wander away from the city lights; I step out of the picture and I can see everything clearly now. I can see them belittle anyone who dares to be different; I can see them ridicule those who’re not “conventional”. I can see them chalk out lines for those who fit their definition of peculiar. I see them hurl stones at the odd one out- and he is forced to retrieve in his shell like a turtle and stay there until he is acceptable; until he conforms to the whims of society and lets society determine what is right, moral and ethical, instead of his heart; until he is the death of himself. Ultimately, the weights of solitude drag him into a massive throng of people, and he is lost forever in that swarm, never to be found again.
Sometime later…

And not too long from now, I see a band of troops marching away in sync. I see the same faces everywhere; faces inhumane. Uniformity, conformity, homogeneity. The world is afflicted by monotony. Only because they failed to perceive the premonition they received, not too long ago.

THE TERRACOTTA WARRIORS-A MYSTERY

The Terracotta Warriors represent only a small portion of the eight thousand strong underground army buried in front of the Emperor Qinshihuang's tomb (r. 221-207 BC) to defend him in the afterlife. The craftsmanship attested by each of the statues is as stupendous as the scale of the project. So who was the Emperor Qinshihuang to merit such magnificence?
One of the most important rulers in Chinese history, this Emperor leaves a legacy as morally complicated as that of Peter the Great. For, like the Russian Tsar, he is as well-known for his contributions to the modern state as he is for sacrificing the lives of thousands of laborers to his visionary projects. Made King of the state of Qin at the age of thirteen, by the time he was thirty-eight he conquered the six neighboring states to unify China for the first time.


Although reviled for his tyranny, Qinshihuangdi is also admired for many radical and insightful policies which subsequent dynasties employed. To synthesize seven separate states into one nation, he standardized a common script and established uniform measurement and monetary systems. For effective government, he codified a legal system and replaced hereditary rulers with a centrally appointed administrative system. To improve industrial productivity he encouraged agricultural reforms and constructed many roads. And in an effort to limit the inroads of barbarian tribes, he supervised the construction of a defence fortification along the northern frontier, the first Great Wall. Although China benefited from these policies, thousands of Chinese workers died in completing this far-reaching public works program.
700,000 forced laborers were sacrificed to construct his tomb which was begun as soon as he ascended the throne. All workers and childless concubines were interred with him to safeguard its secrets. According to Sima Qian's "The Historical Records" written a century later, heaven and earth are represented in the tomb's central chamber. The ceiling, inlaid with pearls, represents the starry heavens. The floor, made of stone, forms a map of the Chinese kingdom; a hundred rivers of mercury flow across it. And all manner of treasure is protected by deadly booby-traps.

The main tomb has still to be excavated - partly because archaeologists are still uncertain of its exact location. Often Emperors amassed huge burial mounds simply to divert robbers' attention from the true site of their tomb. So the artificial mound that today marks the Emperor's tomb does not necessarily indicate the location of its wondrous central chamber. However, because high mercury levels have recently been reported nearby, archaeologists think they may, at last, have discovered it. The Terracotta Warriors, that you will see today, form just one of the many barriers the ruthless Emperor employed to protect his tomb for eternity.


The limestone and marble Kouroi and Kourai of the Greek Late Archaic Period (535-480 BCE) refute the claim that the Terracotta Warriors were the first free-standing statues in the history of world art. This, though, does little to undermine the ingenuity of the Terracotta Warriors' design and manufacturing process. For whereas the Ancient Greeks meticulously carved individual statues out of stone, the Qin dynasty project held all the problems of production on a mass scale. Tens of thousands of individual human and animal statues were manufactured within a series of processes that began with the molding of solid legs.


It was by constructing each of the hollow statues upon solid legs that the Ancient Chinese craftsemen solved the perplexing problem of how to make a statue free-standing. Hollow heads, arms and legs, made of coiled earth, were joined together with strips of clay and set upon the solid legs. After this rough model was assembled, a fine clay slip was added, and details such as eyes, mouth, nose and details of dress were carved into the clay while it was still pliable. Additional pieces such as ears, beard and armour were modeled separately and attached, after which the whole figure was fired at a high temperature.

Blinded By The Light Bulb-The story of an anorexic

I just woke up and turned on the lamp next to my bed. Since it's nighttime I was blinding by the brightness of the bulb. A while back I experienced the same type of effect in my life.
I was anorexic and bulimic but I didn't really care. I was also a Christian at the time, although needless to say I was short on faith. The pain seemed almost unbearable at first. With everyday that pasted the pain became normal. I could go days at a time and never notice the impact it had on my life. Then I decided to try and break the cycle. With the guidance of friends I began to realize that to overcome it I would have to eat more than what I thought. So I asked God to help me.

Well when he does something he does it right. No more purging or just letting go of a little to relieve the pain. I had to eat and keep it down. It was like the light that blinded me. When the light of God took over my healing it almost blinded me. I wanted to shrink back from the brightness of it. Just as a light bulb can hurt at first sight, eating hurt me. I would lie on the floor and cry out in agony.

But after a while I was able to eat without the pain. It's like when your eyes get settled into the light as they had done with the darkness. The greatness of it becomes apparent and life changing. After all how would we survive with darkness every hour of everyday of every week? It's a lot easier and less of a hassle to simply turn on the light. With anorexia it's easier to endure the pain and go on to live a normal and healthy life. Besides what good is being thin if I'm dead?

WHEN WINGS ARE SOAKED

Angel often walked to the sea near her house, the beauty of the place was equivalent to that of heaven, there was a waterfall that fell down with strength greater than love itself, trees were everywhere and birds lived on those trees, never fearing to be hunted. It was a place where Angel would forget things that were happening; remember things that once were. The sea was the only place where she could believe that incredible things were waiting for her, that some part of life still was to be lived, and that it wasn’t over. It was the place where she forgot how worn her (once pretty) face was, how worn her (once smooth and black) hair was, and even more than that, she would forget how worn her thoughts were now. The sea made every thing take birth all over again, fresh and anew.

Doves flew in the sky and then settled behind the clouds, like dreams. Angel kept gazing at them, as though in an attempt to find them but alas, she couldn’t. So she decided to picture them in her mind, lovely doves dancing on the clouds to express the joy that they felt after reaching the place beyond the sky, because the sky had never been the limit for them.

Angel’s dad, Mr.Rodridgues, a middle aged man, with shoulders so bent down that it seemed they carried on them a load heavier than lead, one that does not require to be seen by people, but the kind that imagination brings with it, he had a bald head with perhaps a scarce amount of hair and hazel nut coloured eyes that could always hide the pain living behind them, like a blue sea hiding the sadness that dwells beneath, sat there beside his daughter, torn between words. But silence has a way of making things settle down, and even more a way of waking the child who hides himself in the veil of your tears, and it gives the inner child the strength to finally speak. It gives one the strength to show his weakness.

And it did so, even to Angel’s father, he held his daughter’s hand and said, “My dear daughter, can you please finally forgive me for the evil I caused in your life?”

“Forgiveness,” Angel gave out a mocking laugh, “Do you know what forgiveness is dad? You can’t ask me for it when you don’t know the meaning hid behind this word and the amount of strength it takes.”

“I am sorry, my Angel but with time, love changes itself. What happened between your Mom and I was bound to happen one day, I gave her divorce because life had become painful. Life had come to the point where one has to hope for things to be lost and gone forever,” then he looked into Angel’s eyes and said, “You are my daughter, and now you are of the age where knowing things matters more than ignoring them. So it’s important for you to know about the Waterfall of Love, two people sail merrily for a long time on a ship, and then they eventually fall, and move on to different directions…different paths.”

“So its rest assured that the person who was with you on the ship survived to live after the fall?”

“Well, that’s what we all hope for, but we are too afraid to know, my love. Just like the Great Pakistani Poet, Faiz Ahmed Faiz said, there are pains greater than love, there are joys greater than the joy of being with the one you love and how true it is.”

“If what he said really was true then please tell me of the greater joy and pain you found?”

Angel’s dad held her hand, closed his eyes, kissed the palm of her hands as though placing in it the secret of their love, so that it may be protected forever, looked into her deep brown eyes full of pain, her eyes were.Like that of a soldier who fights to save his blood but no matter what, he always sees the blood falling, like rain drops quenching the thirst of a few, and looking into them he said, “The one I see in your eyes.”

Then there was a moment of silence, both of them stared at the Dove landing on the sea and bathing herself with its water, it was the first time Angel had seen a Dove so closely. She saw that it was such a beautiful creature, with wings that looked exactly like the ones we picture an Angel with and eyes that had various dreams of love and peace locked in them, shining as though they were about to come true.

“Dad, do you see that Dove flying over there?” she sighed, “Isn’t she unexplainably beautiful?”

“She is, my Angel,” he paused, “She is.”

They looked at her in awe, when she gracefully moved her wings to dry them, and then began its journey disappearing into the void of the sky.

“Dad, you told me about the Waterfall of Love, may I also tell you about the Wings of Love?”

“Yes, my darling, I am all ears.”

“Well, did you see how when the Dove had soaked herself in the water, she actually had to dry herself in order to fly?”

“Who, my child, would lose the opportunity of seeing something so beautiful?”

“Well, you see, I believe that love has wings as well, that’s why in love a person is able to see dreams that lie above the sky, so what happens is that love just like our lives is never perfect. So a bad phase does come and the people do cry and then the numerous tears soak the Wings of Love so we are not able to fly, and when the Waterfall of Love comes we eventually fall,” another long moment of silence came and then they both began to cry, while looking at the sun going down to other people who needed him, and another Dove flew by, high above the waterfall, the trees and the skies.