The dream world of Plain Jane.

As shallow as it sounds, I wanted to be a model at one point in my life. I saw nothing’s wrong in that— Because, YOLO– except for my looks. However, my family saw everything’s wrong in that, inlcuding my looks. Perhaps, they were just fulfilling their role as a family.

Personally, now I think, what the hell was I thinking? It is my standard question after I am over my crushes. However, I tend to ask myself this, even now, when I am not exactly over picturing myself, getting pictured for Vogue. Haha.

I have always been, I mean since my teen, camera conscious. I HATE getting pictured at Shaadi-s. There is not a single time, while getting a picture taken with a group, I was not asked to look at the camera, put back my hair, as hair are always falling in my face and of course, SMILE. The last bit is what I hate the most. I mean, if I had to change one thing about me after my name, it HAS to be my smile.

Speaking of which, I mean seriously what the hell was (am?) I thinking? Even my name is not models wala. I mean, at the started of her career, she has already graced the covers of high brow fashion like W and Vogue, with a perfect combination of cute and s***(sorry can’t help, my middle class values), she is the perfect model and the next big thing in the modelling world. Ladies and Gentlemen, let me introduce you to the new sensation on the block, SAYEEEDAA ABEEEDAAAHH BOOKHAAARI. I mean WT%^$%^^^@%^*. How in the world, can I even think of becoming a model when I have sucha old school name? You don’t imagine Abida as a cute-hot-chic of a model. You imagine Abida as someone fat, short woman,  praying on Janeemaz with a tasbeeh in her hand. I think, more than my looks, it is my name that is the biggest hurdle on the way of my modelling career. Abida and super model, just don’t go along. There’s something terribly wrong in that.

If it were up to me, I would name myself, Alexandra. Alexandra and super model? Umm… I know, Alexandra sounds more like a warrior woman. But I would rather be that. I mean, I can be a warrior woman posing for my interview magazine. A hot warrior woman. Teehee.

Also, though I can’t imagine myself, going under the knife, though if I had to, I would definitely go and fix my smile. A perfect smile a way to become a super model, and it is a way to many many things if you still don’t become one.
I think, my name and my smile are the two things that are barring me to become a model. Though, I am not photogenic. However, thanks to photoshop that problem is solved. I have to say, I am not comfortable with photoshop-ing myself. I never photoshop my pictures. Yes. I take selfies. But since, I don’t photoshop, and I have it quite clear that I am not an A-list looking lass, I “cant” (not don’t, I CAN’T) upload my pictures. Sorry, followers, readers and stalkers. This is more suspenseful than whodunit by Agatha Christie. Let’s hope, you don’t I-cant-believe-the-culprit but had-already-figured-it-out. I mean I have dropped enough hints.

Not exactly off topic but still. I don’t understand the stigma attached to modelling. Especially, in out society. I think, it is the only profession that boost you ego. I mean, if you really look, whatever we do in our lives, is to look good. We eat fine food, to look good. We wear stylish, nice cloths, colors that suit us, to look good. We strive for a comfortable lifestyle, so that we be less stressful, less depressed, less wrinkly, less bad skin, basically, to look good. Oh, and we do nice things and be nice with people to look good too. And here, there’s a profession, where all you need to do is to LOOK GOOD, and it PAYS you for that.

How cool. I mean, awesome. I wish, I could become a model. Then I would have no complex over the way I look. I would not be whining about it all the time at my Godforsaken blog. But instead, people would be lauding me at their blogs. Whata life would that be. I wonder, I wonder.

Sometimes life sucks….

But mine sucks all the time, as you all already KNOW. Perhaps, it is not a fancy way to write a blog after so long. But I have no time for pleasantries. And well, I am not trying to show off my busy life. In fact, I am in a daze; how can someone like me with sucha simple routine can be busy!?! I mean its court, then office and finally home. I mean busy people supposed to have a fancy lifestyle. I mean its breakfast with high profile people at an upscale restaurant, work, lunch with a colleague out of your league, work, gym with bae, have dinner while watching Netflix and on weekends spend partying with your squad. THIS IS WHAT YOU CALL… B.U.S.Y.

Not this… stupid, boring routine.  Nonetheless, I am busy… very busy. In fact, I should be busy right now. I have two written statements to draft, and do extensive research on military courts. But instead, I am here… talking to the walls… I mean you all. And if you really look at it, I am actually rambling. But that’s what I do. When did I not ramble in here?

If truth to be told, I am kinda livid. Okay, not kinda, I AM livid. And I am not in a mood to write a fancy para before I divulge the reason. I will be direct and to the point. I am livid because my ^&%&%#$#(&_0#@$*^%ing career is not taking off.

I don’t understand why. OR  may be I do, but I DON’T. I have worked for two years now. AND I have not just worked; I have worked my every%^$#@$%%*&^*ingthing off. I take a cup of tea and shower in the morning and with my dripping wet hair, I fly to High Court. Not even once, okay ONCE, thanks to Expo Center Defence Exhibition, I missed a case, and I cried, in front of everyone. It only shows how much dedicated I am to my work, but also, I don’t mind adding to the list of I-would-rather-be-fat-than-to-be-this-embarrassed. Don’t even ask. Anyways, So I have never, barring one time, missed a case. I,  in fact attend cases of my colleagues and seniors when they can’t make it on time or at all. I run from court to court, carrying those monstrously heavy file in my HEELS. And believe it or not, I am kinda famous for my (when a)cat (sees a bird) walk. I am also famous for my determination, confidence and speaking skills. I don’t know how does being spoken to in a disparaging manner by learned counsels, under the pressure of clients and answering the tricky questions of your lordship credited me for all those flattering adjectives, but sometime in the midst cruel reality, I feel solace. Especially, when I skip lunch for my boss gives me dictation, as stenographers come late afternoon. And sometimes, I have to skip my beauty sleep when I have prepare for a new case. I have no weekends off, I work on Saturdays, and there are times when I have to show up to work on Sundays too. I am not going to say that I gave up my social life for work, because I never had any, nor I ever wanted. However, I may not be a fan of myself, but I like spending time with me. So I at least need a Sunday off. But anyways… I don’t think I haven’t done anything that should be done. But still. Despite I have had a few wins.

But I am where I was. And more than me, it’s my salary. If there is anything that is not where it used to be, then by far, it is my ego. This work life has completely edit it out of me. It sucks.

Recently, when my boss gave me this lecture, it sucked more, and it is not because of the lecture but something else.  I was told that I am awkward, directly. And I have temper issues. And why I have to do everything so fast? I was also told how my taya abbu, taya jaan and Guddu chacha worked so hard ( and probably walked mile, studied under street lights, I don’t remember, I was not paying attention) and nobody dished them out such high designations. I guess, this is what happens when you get a job by family connections, your boss knows your whole family, and uses them as a reference point in those lectures. I was told a lot of things, as I said I was not paying attention, so I didn’t pay attention. Now, I don’t if I heard it right, but I guess I heard him say that I have a future in this firm and I can become a partner. I wish I was paying attention. And trust me, I was all ears after that. But it was useless. I wanted my boss to repeat it just one more time that time. And he can not utter it ever again. But I guess perhaps my boss believes in words-losing-their-value-if-repeated crap policy, or may be I was just hallucinating. Why the hell I was not paying attention? I don’t know. And now it sucks. I am now trapped in hope against all hopes. And subsequently, I am having a its-the-hope-that-kills-you moment.

It’s a trap. I think God is taking revenge on me, for what I post regarding Him at different forums. Well played. When I am about to lose the last shred of hope, He sends me a Tsunami of hopes And I go back to my hopeless romantic self. And then I write a blog about it.

Work and other things….

Hello to all you beautiful (if not on the outside, at least on the inside) people out there. I know, it’s been a long long looooooooooooooooooonnnnnnnnnnnnnnngggggggggg time that I am interacting with you all. Life is busy, and so is me. And even when I am not, I have mastered the art to at least look busy. AND it’s not working. So that should explain why I am here.

Yeah. Another post full of my whines, how-unfairly-life-is-treating-me and all that kinda stuff. So, why should you read this post? Well, you shouldn’t.

Or maybe you can. If you are one of those who take solace in others’ misery. As it happens, I am one of those. But I can’t find a blog like mine (trust me I didn’t say it in a bragging sort of way). But you have (again, not bragging). Congratulations.

So, it’s been two years that I have worked here. And despite having whatever little moments I had, I feel I have achieved nothing. Sounds like you have read this at this blog like a million of times? I KNOW. Some things are constant.

Like I still believe that I am here for a bigger purpose, to make a difference and to leave a mark. And if not, then at least, I am here for at least one award acceptance speech, even if it is at the Golden Raspberry Awards. *Go figure*

Since I were a kid, I have seen myself looking very pretty of course, but also, walking down the aisle, while everyone is clapping and cheering for me and deliver a memorable speech. How cool is that.

You know, if I were speaking all this in real, there would be an awkward silence. But since, I am not; we can all pretend that this indeed IS cool.

Speaking of cool, I recently bought iPhone 6, Gold. And it is REALLY cool, and awesome and so rad.  I have received an enormous amount of attention with a pinch of jealousy. I get this-is-beauty-and-so-cool with a but on it. And it is totally cool with me because I get this on me too. Teehee. I am a showoff because I can afford it. Never apologize for who you are, unless you are hahaha, nah just don’t.

So anyways, I was saying I have been extremely busy…

Is that boring? Trust me, I want to blame it all on creative inertia and all those fancy words, but then it will take up all the space I want to use for the latest gossip at my office. So, here,



Save it. I have already mentioned that I take solace in others’ misery. And especially when it is someone who was at my karma-list.
I know I know, it looks bad, I LOOKS BADZZ but then, world is bad, therefore, I am bad, and I want someone really bad, are you really bad? O’well, don’t get any fancy idea… that is just my favorite pick up line that went with the flow.

But I have to say, out of all the terminations after I got here, this one is the only that didn’t made me panicky, nervous or sad. May be a little surprised, because it was a little unexpected.

This just-got-fired-person was one of the bosses, or so he thought and professed he was here. He would boss everyone around. As per him, he would boss the boss around. I never saw him arguing a case, but he told me that he has won many cases, but he doesn’t like telling anyone unlike others.

So, when he got fired, the first thing came into my mind was to tell R (kindly check my previous blog entries to know his full story) about it. Because you see, when R got fired, He, the person on my karma list (hereinafter: Mr. OMKL) was most happy about, bashed R and said that he deserved it. So, the other day when I was coming out of a court room, I ran into R. And guess what’s the first thing he asked me, how is Mr. OMKL? Haha, and no prizes to guess what I answered.

However, to my surprised, R did not celebrate it…as much. In fact, no one at my office did…as much, despite knowing that Mr. OMKL never supported anyone here and always complained to Boss about everybody, showed happiness. If anything, they talked about bringing him back, on old-itarian (if anything of that sort exists, or ever will) grounds. Mr. OMKL was (is?) in his 70s. It’s hard to find a job at this age. Mr. OMKL would claim he is not valued as he should be for his experience and competence though, and this office cannot function without him. Well it does.

And despite that, people are sympathizing with him, and want him back.

Perks of being an oldie gold oldie.

So, anyways as I have already made quite clear that I don’t want him here. But things don’t… NEVER go as I want them to be. I started writing this blog post 3 days ago, and left it incomplete as you know I have learned the art of pretending to be busy…so anyways, today, he’s back.

And I am back to where I was… after my few days of happiness.

Nothing works out….

Right now there are only three people in my office, an office boy, a senior (both in age and experience) and me. This usually happens, when my boss is not in the town. It’s like unsaid holiday times around here. And I don’t blame anyone. Trust me, being a lawyer is like having two jobs, in the morn you have court, and in the afternoon you have office. So to do things and stuff that people usually do what they have to do, they don’t get time for. Tough routine. Busy life. And all that stuff.

I, on the contrary, wonder what is to have all that stuff. I know, I know I grumble about all these things too, but seriously, I know in heart of my hearts that even an MBA would have a busier life than mine, despite having shorter work hours. I mean I wake up in the morn, fly to court, wait and wait there for my cases, then rush to office, do my work and go home around 7:30ish, and still I have 2 to 3 hours in my hands to think about my static life. And don’t get me started about Sundays. Sundays, they symbolize my life… ever unchanging.

So, if you were under the impression that I was some dedicated lawyer who lubs her work so much that she was willing to sacrifice her active social life for it then $#@%$&^)*(&$@$%#*^%* off. ARE YOU &*^*&$%#&%^$(&ING SUFFERING FROM SELECTIVE READING? HAVE YOU NOT BEEN READING MY BLOG? WHAT KINDA PATHETIC LOSER ARE YOU? For not reading what I write or well….for even reading WHAT I write. My blog is full of my whines having no life and then some. So, why would you think that way? And if you didn’t, %^$&%#&%# off again. I may be a socially inept pathetic loser, but you are the one reading my blog. So check your reflection in the mirror.

Speaking of which, it’s not mirror mirror on the way, it’s actually MAGIC mirror on the wall. Most people have got it wrong. And while we are at it, I might as well add, that it’s not all that glitters is not gold, it is all that GLISTENS is not gold. And for some reasons I find it easy to agree with.

People think, and well, when I joined here, I also thought that working for Pakistan’s one of the top firms, would open doors, and I would reach the sky. Little did I know or the other people that I would be opening doors for others (as I always come early to work) and perhaps, if I continue carrying those monstrously heavy files, will reach the sky, but for difference reasons (read: falling on the floor).

Damn. This is not what I thought of my life. I thought I would come, see and conquer. Umm, which sort of I did, as I was assigned my first case to argue. I went or the coherence’s sake, came to the court at 7:25 am in the morn (well, that’s 5 minutes after sweepers, mind you so you can keep your even-sweepers-don’t-arrive-that-early banter to yourself, kthnx), saw the opposing counsel (with my colleague who laughed and said, oh come on abida, you can do it, and I looked at her and said, Correction: destroy it) and well, conquered ( I won my first case). And I couldn’t believe it. If you can’t either, check my facebook account, I post pictures of a copy of the order.

But I don’t blame you, as I said I couldn’t believe it either. And no one did in my first. I have to tell you the background story. So, my called me in his office alongwith this colleague of mine and asked me and her to sit. After which he called me a goof for something I don’t remember, actually I do but I won’t tell.

And then he told me that there is a case which I have to argue. To which I said, I HAVE TO ARGUE!!!! He thought I said, I HAVE TO ARGUE???? To which he said, yes you have to proceed with the matter, this is your case now. To which I wanted to say that I got that, I was I have to arguing????-ing, I was just I have to argue!!!ing but I didn’t say a word, I don’t like it when I am called goof. So, I took the file and came and sat on my desk. And the news of me having to proceed with a case spread like a PTI rally. Subsequently, I was made a laughing stock like one too. I wanted to believe that they were all in the clutches of green eyed monster as my boss doesn’t give case to associates at the firm. However, I dropped the idea as I thought if I have don’t smarts, at least I know the wonderful trick of reverse psychology that could probably help me out. Expect the worst, think negative and become Dr. doom. I did all that. And eventually it worked out.

And the turn of events or should I say people?…. didn’t come as a surprise. All of a sudden, people at my firm developed this great admiration of my speaking skills, my confidence and apparently, my style. I was no more a laughing stock but admiration stock. And magically, people already knew that I would win it. That’s different they never said it until I won it.

Anyhow, despite everything I am where I was before winning a case.

Moneyless, luckless and lifeless.

Work it out…

A senior “R” at my firm recently got fired. He’s the second associate in my firm whose employment has been terminated. And I have a premonition that third would be me. It’s not that I had anything in common with the two employees who got fired, except that their existence was also excruciatingly nominal.

However, Mr. R’s existence was not exactly nominal, if you minus the work bit. He was short, by almost all means. And now, I am guessing that he IS short, by all means, since he just lost his job. Oh and NO, this isn’t an attempt to mock him. If anything, this blog post is my tribute to him. So I was saying…. Writing? Or should I say blabbering about this ERR, I mean “R” person.

Apart from his incompetence and misogyny, I think, despite or should I say including the attributes mentioned, he was a good muslim. He was a 5 times ka namazi-pareezi, even tahajjud pareezi, all 30 roza-s pareezi and save-the-honor-of-Prophet Muhammad-sms about 100 times a day and night pareezi. I would read his texts, first thing is the morning, and last thing at night. HIS TEXTS— served me nothing but another feather in the cap of self-pity that it was his—a man in 60-s but claims in his 50-s, short heighted, more islamists than the Taliban—texts that I “have to” read first thing in the morning and the last thing before going to sleep. WT%$#%$@&%$*^%(&*^%, what my life has come to? Or should I say what has come in my life? Well nothing. My life is like a sun… static. And I feel so frustrated. And I wanted to use a big word, instead of frustrated but I am so frustrated that I can’t think of any. And then I think of Mr. R, in his 60-s, or as per him 50-s, towards the end of his career, and then he gets fired and now, have to start from zero again. Literally from zero. He doesn’t own a car, lives in a lower middle class area, despite he was senior, at least senior in age, he didn’t have a separate office but instead would sit with the junior associates, and his pay scale was almost the same as mine, and you know I “still” get peanuts. Despite all, he has not lost his faith. Last time when I spoke to him regarding his next-step, he told me that he is glad that he got more time for prayers now, he is also keeping (extra?) fasts and has complete faith in god that he will find him another job. So, I asked him did he apply anywhere? To which he said, as I said “I have complete faith in god”. OH MY GAWD.

Now, you may all think that he may not be as interesting as I am trying to write him up. But he is. He does have his bollywoodish side. Once I overheard him talking to other people in the firm, about some Indian movie he recently watched. So, this one person asked him if he has any fav actor, he told him that he used to like Dilip Kumar, Rajeesh Khanna and Amitabh Bachan. He thinks in this generation, no one can match their acting abilities, and most of them were show off-s. Then another person asked him with a meaningful smile if he likes any female actors, to which he very nonchalantly answered, “these days I guess Kareena and Katrina are very popular so yea, they are naaaicee”. AND it hit me, that baba jee liked actors from his times but his taste in female actors is quite up-to-date.

Errr, so anyhow. I guess I took his termination very seriously. I mean, It’s only been one and a half year that I have worked here, and it makes me so frus…tra…ted, (I still can’t think of a big word) that I have not achieved anything. Imagine what it would be like for a person like Mr. R. Imagine if that happened to

me… NO, DON’T IMAGINE. Okay, let’s imagine… as I don’t feel like working today. So, me in my 60-s but tell people that I am in my 50-s, have my work desk with juniors, have same pay scale as I would have 30 years ago, have no reputation, have no achievement, have lost my prime years where one enjoys career at peak and have ended up getting fireddddddd.

Oh gawd… I think I should get back to work.


Last year in November, I went to see this play, “Waiting for Godot”, at NAPA. I was sitting in the corner, so I was not getting a good view of the stage, therefore, I was not enjoying and paying attention as much as I would if I were sitting in the middle. However, the dialogue exchange between the two main characters in the play got my attention and somehow still linger on:

ESTRAGON: I’m unhappy.
VLADIMIR: Not really! Since when?
ESTRAGON: I’d forgotten.
VLADIMIR: Extraordinary the tricks that memory plays!

Extraordinary the tricks that memory plays… I know it’s deep. And I will come to that. However, what actually got my attention first was that Estragon had been unhappy for so long that he had forgotten its genesis. How tragic it is. I mean, just by knowing this about someone makes you instantly unhappy. And more so, if it’s true for you too. That just sucks.

I don’t know since how long I have been unhappy. I am trying to recall. Just I couldn’t. And such memory loss is something excruciatingly painful to live with, not just for Estragon but for me too. I think everyone of us, wait for that perfect moment, where everything starts to fall into place, and life’s is all haha hehe thereon. The happy endings of course! But guess, life is not a film, where when it ends, it literally ends. I think life has no happy ending to offer, even if you have a lived a very happy life, you will end sadly. Ends are only happy in movies, and books. And I just realize that I am being next level emo in this post, and this is getting uncomfortable.

So, anyways coming on to the last line “Extraordinary the tricks that memory plays” is so true, without exception. Memory, on the face of it, stores information, but actually it collects facts that undermine you, sometimes swiftly and most of the times slowly. It tricks you into believing that what happened may have a reason. It pushes you to draw a deluded pattern of all the sad events of your life, for a greater good. It makes you wanna live in the afterglow, which is nothing but an exaggerated version of something you wouldn’t even remember if the memory didn’t exist.

2 seconds of solace is the trick that memory plays. And we invest so much time in making it…making something which is misleading, wily and appalling. How extraordinary it is.