Posts Tagged ‘Khawar’

Party Coming to an End!

October 8, 2014

Hasaan Khawar
28th September, 2014 – Seoul

Last Friday night, I went to Itaewon – a happening cultural district and supposedly a haven for expats in Seoul – and did some bar and club hopping. Fun and festivity was in the air. Hundred of people thronged the area. Bars were filled with dancing couples, group of gossiping friends, chasing eyes, ravishing beauties and impressive hulks. I could see faces full of excitement and exuberance, with eager desire to participate in this evening of fun, let it all out and dance through the night.

Interestingly, as the night moved on, the spirit of the place took a different turn. After a few hours, the dancing couples were found sitting around the tables, calmly enjoying their drinks. The lovebirds started sneaking away, wanting to get back to their nests. The ravishing beauties now looked tired and dull. Even the energetic bartenders were now slowing down. Night was coming to an end and so was the party. It seemed that everyone wanted to go back to their peaceful abodes. The same night now seemed uninteresting and boring. People have had their share of fun and now it was time to rest.

While climbing the ladder of age gradually, the concept of death has often confounded me. If we were lucky to live a long life, how would we feel, when we are near the end? Would we want to leave this glittery world, full of colors, fragrances and excitements to the realm of unknown? How difficult is it to let go of our loved ones for good, who we would rather not miss for an hour? How painful is it to leave our precious material possessions that we have tried hard to gather all along your life? We look at the world from our own perspective, where we sit at the center of the world. But one day, we leave this aura of self-created kingdom and depart for permanent anonymity into the dust of time.

While watching the ebb and flow of the evening that day, it suddenly dawned on me that life is no different from what I was witnessing at Itaewon. Those, who are lucky to spend a fun-filled life, are excited when they are young, just like the colorful evening a few hours earlier. They were full of energy and emotion. But as the night goes through, just like our age, everyone starts to lose interest in the party, till the time, we are old, having little energy left in our frail bodies. That is when we sit by the table, look at the crowd, cherish what we had earlier, make the most of our last hour, by having a good conversation, before we take off to our final abode to take rest.


What is Love

September 30, 2014

By Hasaan Khawar

“What is love”, the little girl asked. The old man smiled and said: “Have you ever listened to a beautiful melodious tune, which when you hear for the first time, the clock tends to stop, the mind starts to wander into the less frequented corridors of your past, the heart comes into a perfect synch with the notes and you tell yourself this is just the right moment? That melody, my child, is known as love, and that very moment is the essence of it, no matter how short-lived it may be. And life is no more than a rare collection of those precious jewels. So live them to the fullest while they last, because they never come back just like a picturesque scenery, which you take a glimpse at, before the fast moving train of life takes you ahead.”

Juggling the balls!

September 24, 2014

By Hasaan Khawar

Life is about juggling many balls simultaneously. It doesn’t matter how fast they are or how high can you throw them. The key is not drop even a single one of them till the time the show is on.

Indelible Marks

September 17, 2014

By Hasaan Khawar

She was looking intently at the empty note pad, lost deeply in her thoughts. After a while I just couldn’t help it and asked her: “what are you looking at?” My question kind of shook her out of her trance. I noticed that her eyes depicted the traces of an untold story. She restlessly touched the page with her fingers as if a blind person is trying to read an urgent message through Braille and said: “Memories are like writings. You could tear the page and throw it away, but the words written with the pen of passion and ink of intensity would often leave an indelible mark!”

Life 2.0

September 10, 2014

By Hasaan Khawar

Sometimes I think life is like Instagram , a collection of happy moments and the memories we make, and on others it seems like Twitter, brief and spent mostly in making comments about others. But now I’ve realized that life is more like Facebook, where we are always putting up a happy face and perpetually fishing for compliments!

Knowledge is Power

September 3, 2014

By Hasaan Khawar

Knowledge is knowing who needs to know what. Power is knowing who does not know what. Access is having all the knowledge. Wisdom is exercising discretion in disseminating that knowledge. Confidence is not showing what you do not know. And sheer stupidity is posing that you know it all. But success is seeking knowledge, while being confident when you don’t know and acting wisely when you do.

Lahore, my beloved!

August 29, 2014

By Hasaan Khawar

The roads seem narrow, the air humid and traffic unruly! ‪Lahore‬ feels like an old beloved, who no more does care to get ready for welcoming her love. From a distance it seems that love has probably rusted away due to winds of time. But still when you see her, the old flame flickers and then re-kindles with full swing. You fall in love all over again!

Tricks of Time

August 27, 2014

By Hasaan Khawar

I have always wondered why my clock always moves in a direction opposite to my heart. When I want it to stop, it races. When I want it to race, it seems to stop. The moments I want to make eternal, pass through like a flash and the moments I want to pass quickly last for a life time.

Precious Possessions of Life

June 29, 2014

By Hasaan Khawar

After driving for almost 30 minutes through the maze of roads, traffic congestion and long lines of cars – much of it attributed to the famous Metro Bus project of Islamabad – I finally reached my yoga class and parked my car outside. The yoga class is quite an experience, about which I’ll probably write at some point later. I locked the car and opened the trunk to get my gym bag so that I can change and grab my towel. To my utter disappointment and shock, the bag wasn’t there. Knowing fully well that Shahid, my domestic aide, had forgotten to put the bag in, I still called him to vent out my frustration. The poor guy fumbled over the phone as I inquired. Sense prevailed and I wasn’t really harsh.

Generally I consider myself quite polite to the help, unintentionally bestowing greatness on myself. I realized though that this cloak of kindness stays till the time, they don’t make a mistake and the moment something goes wrong , I’m annoyed and go on and on.

Shahid is a twenty something, an illiterate kid hailing from Southern Punjab, who came to me when we shifted to our new house in Lahore in 2009, initially as a temporary employee and then stayed back. His whole family has been working with us in some capacity or the other. Shahid now rightfully claims that I can’t go on a single day without him. Probably he is right.

I sometimes think what are some of the other things that I can’t go on without for a single day? My laptop may be, cigars, music perhaps and my workouts. Being part of this celebrated list, in the tiny fiefdom of my life, Shahid claims a central spot, ensuring everything is there ‘on time in full’ – a term I learned quickly in my encounters with the corporate world – making life a seamless process for me. And then he does one mistake and I’m ticked off.

The slick Mac Air does throw an error at me every once in a while, or an occasional cigar would not have as smooth a smoke as it should be. But I’m rarely that quick in putting the responsibility on them. May be it’s time, I acknowledge that Shahid’s service and loyalty is of far greater value than the aroma of a Cuban cigar, the melodies of my favorite music or may be the super-efficiency of my notebook.

The Pull of Life

June 24, 2014

By Hasaan Khawar

As soon as the chauffeur pulled the car on the Ring Road, the car started cruising on the smooth carpeted road. The chilling air of the airconditioner started to relax my body, slowly taking away the effects of scorching heat of Lahore. I reclined my seat to a comfortable position, closed my eyes and my mind started to wander away. Lahore always had a special place in my heart – the city of my family and friends, a silent witness to my past and present and a gracious host – the pull has never diluted. I thought of my mother who just treated me with a special cup of tea and a bowl of neatly sliced cubes of honey sweet mangoes from Multan. The taste of those mangoes was still in my mouth and the car had not even entered the Motorway, when my mind drifted further and the thoughts of Islamabad started to trickle down in my mind – my plans for the evening and the following week;
my work and beyond work occupations; and my fondness for weekend hikes up the Margallas. This is when it suddenly struck me that travelling between two cities is also somewhat like the game I used to play decades ago. I would toss a piece of metal between the two magnets. The pull of one magnet kept on prevailing till the point, where the piece had drifted too much towards the other. That is when the pull of the other magnet would take over and would attract the metal towards it in a flash. Islamabad and Lahore both have their own attractions for me and just like that metallic piece I seamlessly move from one field to the other. I considered myself lucky to have this pull from both sides that keep me going. Isn’t this what life is all about?