To You, Rain

Imagine a tiny droplet of rain. Imagine the journey of this tiny droplet, which I believe is just wonderful as it starts from up there and ends right here, on the ground.  Just some food for thought: what do all these tiny droplets feel like while they are on it?

Well rainfalls in Lahore are just awesome. Yes they truly are. Especially the part of the city where I live is quite green. So it adds to the awesomeness. Anyways, the story goes like this;

Its 8:52 PM and an hour ago, I was sitting home and had absolutely nothing to do. So I decided to go for a walk. There is a small market in the neighborhood and it normally takes me around 15-20 minutes to get there on foot. So that is where I was heading. As soon as I got there, guess what, it started drizzling. And it didn’t take the drizzle brizzle much time to turn into some heavy monstrous rainfall. This was followed by an obvious attack of panic, confusion and cluelessness as to what should I do next…

…. 10 minutes later, I still stood where I had stood earlier, thinking what to do next. I could have called home or taken a lift from somebody. But I just didn’t. And then I thought, it had been a while that I did something crazy all on my own. So I took the radical decision of walking home in that heavy rainfall. And I did it. I stepped in the storm and starting walking home.

As I walked home, for the first time in my life and I’m not exaggerating it, FOR THE VERY FIRST TIME IN MY LIFE, I felt free. I did not care that I was getting all soaked up or that my cell phone would probably fry its brain because of all the water or what would my mom say when I get home and ruin her new rug with my wet feet. It was just absolute freedom. I saw people running for shelter and cars passing me by in a hurry. But I was a free man. And a free man is never in a hurry to do anything; he walks at his own pace.  This is what we all need. Freedom! Freedom from our own selves!

And I also realized that you don’t need to be in love or be with someone special to enjoy a wonderful moment. The entire world can be your company if you want it to be.

So as you read this, I don’t know who you are, where do you live, what clothes are you wearing, what physical and mental deformities you got, what heinous crimes you have committed against humanity, what shortcomings you have, what religion you follow and whether or not you like me at all… I don’t care. I just want you to know that YOU! are the most amazing human being in the world. Whoever you are, you are just beautiful! in your own unique way. Because out of the 6 billion people on the planet, you are just one and 99 is never a 100. So that’s it.

Oh and btw want to know what those tiny droplets feel like while they are making that journey I was talking about? Well they feel happy and joyful because they know that they might end up making a confused and cold person, happy about life! ;-)

Danny Vuojosk Part I – The Problematic Scenarius

Warning: Explicit language, reader's discretion is advised.

On a fine Sunday afternoon, the Great Makessay was meditating. The vibes of communist energy were flowing through his mind, body and soul. The Great Makeesay was on his way to redeeming his destiny of deliverance of mankind. He was sitting at a coffee table in the Mall of Lahore, which is a really good place to meditate as it is dwelled upon by the pure of heart and spirit; the most beautiful of this beautiful Russian city of Lahore.  Provoski’s deep nirvana was broken by a sudden voice. An intrusion! Behold! An angel had appeared before him…

Greetings! Oh Great Makeesay! The leader of communism! The rising red star! The successor of Lenin! The master of virtue! The messiah!

Bhenchod! can’t you see I’m meditating? You accursed and ugly angel. For indeed you are very ugly. Your wings are ash black, your nose is deformed, your eyes are squinted, you have a bad breath, you walk without grace  and you walk as if you are limping. I swear on Lenin, you are the ugliest angel I have ever seen. What do you want from the Great Makeesay?

Forgive me O master of communism, I did not mean to disturb you but its my duty to warn you of the imminent danger. Your case is lost. The revolution CANNOT happen. You should go back to the communist heaven, to where you came from! Russia is no longer worthy!

SILENCE! Madarchod! How dare you feed me with your pessimism you monstrous angel?

O Great Makeesay, take a look around yourself, you are surrounded by animals and reptiles. These are not people. These are Vuojosk’s children… They are dogs and bitches and reptiles

And Makeesay Provoski lifted his eyes to observe his surroundings and was horrified at what he saw for it was truly a very graphic and gross sight:

He was surrounded by hundreds of animals. Dogs, Bitches, Reptiles… all of them mounted on each other as they licked, bit, defiled and molested each other, without any discrimination of species. A thousand clitorises ripped open. A thousand penises made their way into what seemed like caves of reptilian birth.  This sexual frenzy went all over the place, in the shops, on escalators, even outside the mall, in big cars, in small cars, on motorbikes, amongst dogs, bitches and reptiles of all classes, rich, poor, everyone… in entire Russia.

MADNESS! MADNESS! MADNESS!!!

O Great Makeesay! You cannot deliver these people. Voujosk is their Messiah! They only want him and not you. They want… The Danny Voujosk!

And Makeesay Provoski just stood silent before the ugly angel. For he did not know who this man was! Who and what! Danny Vuojosk?

To be continued…

Mystery (The First Answer)

Once upon a time, I was a lost traveler. I had set out on a path which I didn’t know or think, could lead me anywhere. It was indeed an endless search, with seemingly no objective at all.

Tired and exhausted, I continued for years. I searched the very souls of the people I met in the course of my journey, I desperately wanted answers; the purpose of my existence. I searched caverns, islands, castles and all the places within or beyond my reach. I found nothing! No hope at all. And just when I was about to give up, I saw an ancient monastery far away, at the horizon. Through the fog that surrounded me, it only appeared as some massive dark structure. But as I continued towards it, gradually the darkness gave way to light.

I entered this fine and magnificent building and was admitted as a monk.

As expected, I bombarded the Grandmaster with my questions who gave me my first lesson; a lesson of patience and perseverance. “Learn my child”, he said “the answers lay within your own soul; you just never looked deep enough”. And then he told me about the mystery of the universe and the power it holds. The power that is at our disposal and it is our right to master it, provided we prove ourselves.

The universe consists of Four Elements; Earth, Fire, Water and Wind.

It is the mastery of these four elements that can give us immense power and ultimately the mastery of the universe. But the universe is only willing to give us control over all or one of these elements, if it deems us worthy. If an unworthy soul was to get hold of the elements, it would only bring chaos and confusion to this world. Therefore we have to wait until we are ready. The universe picks its sages with great care and they have to pass many tests before they are given a chance.

So it dawned on me that God tests us not because He wants to know how much substance we hold inside, as He is all-knowing and all-wise and already knows everything. He tests us so that one day we may be ready to yield the great power and use it to fulfill our destinies. He created this universe, so that we learn to master to it!

The power is indeed the power of light. It can only contribute constructively to “Life”. Darkness cannot co-exist with light and therefore the power is completely pure and divine, void of any corruption or dilution.

Then I asked myself, “Have I reached the end of the road by knowing all this?” No I haven’t! Because knowledge alone means nothing unless and until it is used to achieve what is meant to be achieved. Therefore my journey is not finished yet. Rather it has only just begun…

That One Person – Part II (The Zahir)

According to the writer Jorge Luis Borges, the idea of the Zahir comes from Islamic tradition and is thought to have arisen at some point in the eighteenth century. Zahir, in Arabic, means visible, present, incapable of going unnoticed. It is someone or something which, once we have come into contact with them or it, gradually occupies our every thought, until we can think of nothing else. This can be considered either a state of holiness or of madness. (FAUBOURG SAINT-PÈRES Encyclopedia of the Fantastic (1953) Excerpt from The Zahir by Paulo Coelho)



I first came across this term “Zahir” when I read a book of the same name by Paulo Coelho. I am using it here in this article because The Zahir defines the ultimate obsession for me. The state of absolute and final madness, from which there is no return.

Yes she was The Zahir for me. She still is. And perhaps she’ll always be. Maybe that’s not true. Maybe I am just too weak to think of anything else. Maybe I’ve surrendered my mind, body and soul to her memories. Maybe it’s a phase. Maybe time is a perfect healer. Maybe all “Maybes” are just lies that we feed to our sad little souls to keep ourselves from falling apart.

I vividly remember the moment I first saw her. The color of clothes she was wearing. That look on her face. It runs like a film in my mind. As a matter of fact all her memories do. And If you ask for my honest opinion on the whole film-like memory process, it is quite painful. Painful enough to bring me to a state, which even by my standards, far exceeds madness.

I am sad and I’m hurt. I can safely say that my soul is battered and bruised. My heart is broken into pieces. I sometimes cry when I’m alone. Sometimes I have to hold back my tears when I’m around people. Sometimes I have to kill myself to stay alive. Because I believe pretention is worse than suicide. In pretending to be happy, we are punishing ourselves more, as we are hiding our true emotions and feelings, just for the sake of others or perhaps for our own good. Yes I have died. Or at least something inside me is dead. And I know it will never come back. The aura of those times, is gone forever…

Do I hate her? No I don’t. I have no reason to. You never hate “that one person”. You always love her. That is the mysterious power of love. You keep loving the person who hurts you. You try and condole yourself and give justifications to your mind for that one person’s sake. Justifying her actions to be right. And her actions were right, at least in the end they were.

So I will write no further parts to this article in the future. Because I know that there is no end to it. Also I believe that the beauty of writing (good writing) is to leave some room for the reader’s imagination, to deliberately leave certain things open to interpretation.

But the problem is that The Zahir can’t be forgotten. It stays with you. I believe it stays for all eternity and I truly hope for that. Because what you can’t get in this world, you hope to achieve in the next. So Maybe “That One Person” will be there in everything I write or do… Maybe… at least so I choose to believe!

The Song Remains the Same

I started listening to Zeppelin at the end of my first year at LSE. Before that I had heard a few songs, famous ones. But it was only after listening to each and every Zeppelin record to date, I came to the conclusion that there is none like them. Nor will there ever be anybody who comes even close. Album by album, song by song, Zeppelin picked me up from the ground and battered me against the wall mercilessly. Destroying and rebuilding me each and every second of my life.

 I have always been a rock fan. During my teenage years, I was more into grunge. Pearl Jam, Alice in Chains and that kinda music. Oh and a little metal too. Iron Maiden was amongst my favorites. Music inspired me, spoiled me, and gave me a reason to dream big. But after my teenage, as I stepped into my twenties, I almost lost interest in everything and music didn’t really move my feet like before. As a matter of fact life itself had lost its touch. There was nothing exciting for me anymore. And then suddenly, there was light, there was Led Zeppelin. There were songs that I could listen to for hours and days continuously and still not ever lose interest. Zeppelin’s music rekindled the spirit in me and that too with a bang. I grew my hair to my shoulders. I knew I was making a fool out of myself in the eyes of the world. I looked hideous but it was alright as long as I was following the footsteps of the great Zeppelin. I didn’t give a damn about anything or anyone. Such was my love for their music and what they did.

Gradually I also developed as a musician. As my guitar skills grew, my appreciation for Zeppelin’s music grew along. I could now understand the brilliance of their music in a better way. All those cool drum rolls that Bonham used to execute so effortlessly, those soul ripping guitar solos by Sir Jimmy Page, that groovy but deep Bassline by Jones and those crazy but melodious vocals by Plant. And it was the bluesy feel in Page’s playing, that developed my interest in the genre, I must admit!

Needless to say I don’t know what people may say or think. I’m sure that many of you must have followed a band. Many of you must have known that feeling where you love a song so much that it hurts. For me that band is Zeppelin. For me they are the best band ever. And the four individuals that make up Zeppelin are the greatest musicians in their respective fields. They’ll always be the best.

So anyways I have not been able to listen to Zeppelin for quite some time now. But today I decided to go crazy one more time and I’m having the time of my life. It’s the best rollercoaster ride ever. By the way I’m listening to Communication Breakdown right now. =D

Love and respect for Led Zeppelin. Forever. \../

Accursed Thinker over and out. =P =p

Makeesay Provoski: Part III – Sacrifice

His head held high up, his gaze down on the ground, with humility and a sense of pride, Provoski walked towards the altar of sacrifice. He was lead by Lenin, his mentor and the master of communism who was wearing a red gown with ancient communist symbols drawn on it. A colosseum surrounded the altar which was elevated right in the middle of an otherwise empty ground. Provoski was made to lie down on the altar as the crowd enjoyed every minute of the show. The High Council of Communist Priests formed a circle around the altar while Lenin performed the ritual. The lid on Provoski’s head was opened up. His sanity was sucked out of his brain and turned into a dog. The dog was then held high by an angel on one side and a demon on the other. The beat of insanity echoed throughout the universe. As the drums picked up momentum, Lenin held the sword high and with force, brought it down on the barking dog, splitting him into two halves from his stomach. The ritual was complete. Provoski’s head was closed and sealed. The blood of the dog was then drunk by Provoski’s parents, his friends and loved ones, his enemies and even Provoski himself. The entire event occurred in another dimension so after it was over, it seemed to Provoski, as if he just got up from a beautiful dream. And just a few hours later, he found himself sitting in a plane, heading back to U.S.S.R… leaving the bloodless dead body of “the dog”, somewhere in the deserts of Saudi Arabia…

Thal was a very small town. It had a small Red Army base here which stationed a brigade back then. If you entered the base from its main gate, drove straight,  took a left after about 2 kilometers then took the third street on left and stopped at the last house on right, you would end up at the Makeesay Residence.

The feeling of return was wonderful and Provoski wasn’t lonely anymore. He finally had a human friend. Her name was Frolova. The entire town sung songs of her character and nobility. But Provoski could only see her at school. So at home, he spent most of his time with his blue bicycle which soon became obsolete so the Colonel got him a new better one. It was a red B.M.X, which stayed with Provoski for around 3 years before dying of cancer.

The great Makeesay lived in Thal for about two years. Many great things happened here. After all it was here that Provoski was bestowed with the prestigious “Teeth of the Rabbit”. The exact date of the event is not clear. But it is said, that the ceremony took place sometime during the summers of 1992.

Well the summers flew and it was September. Provoski was preparing to leave this wonderful town. The next stop in his sacred journey was a small town by the name of Naushki in the South Russian state of Balochia. The journey was long and treacherous indeed…

To be continued…

Makeesay Provoski: Part II – Exile

Provoski’s birth was marked by the rise of a bright red star in the sky. The star rose from the south and stayed in the sky for a good seven days. After which, it moved towards north in a very zig zag manner and finally descended upon those, who had no hope of any kind. The event had already been predicted by the High Council of Communist Priests who had read it in their sacred Red Book.

The book also dictated that the Makeesay had to be exiled in order to complete his transition into human life. Therefore 10 months after his birth, at the start of year 1987, Provoski was banished from U.S.S.R and was sent to Saudi Arabia. The land of Arabs. There he lived in a small apartment in the port city of Al-Jubail. His life in exile was spent in the company of his dear friends; solitude, loneliness and realization. His training had begun and the moments he spent there, had a color. They were of the same color as yellow street lights on an empty road at 3:00 AM. Such was the aroma of his reality. The psychedelic images and memories of this time along with others, stayed with Provoski till his demise.

Provoski’s apartment was on 2^nd floor, from which he rarely (if ever) came out. At home he was surrounded by lifeless objects and spent most of his time creating meaning out of meaningless things. Lenin was an occasional visitor. Even the great Makeesay needed a mentor to guide him towards the red light.

It was during these conversations with Lenin that Provoski realized who he was to himself and to all the others around him.

To the evil, Provoski was the anti-Christ and to the good and the faithful, he was the Messiah. Provoski was the ultimate living example of Hegel’s Theory of Dialectics. He was the synthesis of two extremely opposite theses. He was the middle road. Since in order to survive, a man needs to have some evil in him. And in order to avoid being haunted by the inner voice, he needs to be good. With the balanced mix of good and evil, he is able to live a successful and peaceful life with no regrets

To himself, he was just… Provoski!

Time lingered on and it was finally 1990, the year of return. The rituals of the priests had begun. Makeesay had to present himself on the altar of sacrifice before he could come back…

To be continued…