Your Halo's Slipping Down. To Choke You Now.
Inside The Mind Of The Deluded Voodoo Child
 

agar kuch hota, toh Khuda hota.
agar kuch na hota, toh Khuda hota.
marwaya mujh ko honay ne,
agar mein na hota, toh kiya hota?



Merey Bol. Merey Qa'ul. Merey Alfaaz.
Meri Saza.

Meri Irtiqa.
 

[+] About Me

    Bismillah jee Bismillah.. :p


    Name: Hafiz Moazzam Shahzaad :P

    Location: Lahore, Pakistan

[+] Special Thanks

[+] Mood..
    I feel The current mood of shemrez at www.imood.com

[+] Recent Catharsis


[+] Ancient Blabberings

[+] Places I Go
[+] Skitzopsychosis

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[+] Other Reccomended Pastiches


[+] My Other Works

[+] Words of Wisdom
  • Everyone wanted to know what I'd do if i didn't win. I guess we'll never know.
    - Kanye West, Artiste.

  • Don't ever lose hope, but know that few things are just not worth fighting for.
    - Myra Iqbal, Rainbaby.

  • There is a God. Definitely. But I disagree with faith.
    - Shemrez Nauman Afzal, urban dysfunctional offspring.

  • Life is like a box of chocolates; you never know what you're gonna get.
    - Forrest Gump, movie.

  • A mind doesn't have to be frustrated as long as its connected to a hand somewhere along the way.
    - Midhat Masood Syed, Chona Baby/Scorpio.

  • I do not cry, I do not weep. There are no tears to wipe away.
    - Sahar Haq, Nikki Jayii Haan.

  • Math, my dear boy, is the lesbian sister of biology.
    - Peter Griffin, Family Guy

  • What is truth? a mobile army of metaphors, metonyms, anthropomorphisms, in short, a sum of human relations which were poetically and rhetorically heightened, transferred, and adorned, and after long use seem solid, canonical, and binding to a nation. Truths are illusions about which it has been forgotten that they are illusions, worn-out metaphors without sensory impact, coins which have lost their image and now can be used only as metal, and no longer as coins.
    - Friedrich Nietzsche, Philosopher.

  • Spellings! Bah! Teeny little zits on the ass! Who cares!
    - Saleha Waqar, Ishtar/Self-proclaimed Diety.

  • There's something about indulgence and appreciation. Something hushed and sitting back, eyes closed in abandon, surrender, all things deliciouslydivine(sic).
    - Nausheen Ishtiaq, Sproj.

  • Life is just one word; balance.
    - Ian Andrew Eldred, Bassist.

  • Even if you are comfortable with Hicks, you must do Slutsky. Are you comfortable with Slutsky?
    - Dr. Debkusum Das, LUMS Visiting Economics Faculty.

  • When people say 'Miss you like hell', what do they mean? Who misses hell?!
    - Ameera Safdar Khawaja, Boobooss.

  • You know, in Wisconsin, if you win a girl a giant purple rhinoceros, she puts out!
    - Ashton Kutcher, Actor That 70's Show

  • It is only in the mysterious equations of love that the logical reasons can be found.
    - Dr. John Nash, Ph.D.

  • If rape is inevitable, just lay back and enjoy it.
    - Mukhtaran Mai.. No wait, Major Azhar! Haha!

  • Writing for a penny a word is ridiculous. If a man really wants to make a million dollars, the best way would be to start his own religion.
    - L. Ron Hubbard, Scientologist.

  • It's always good to end a paper with a quote. He says someone else has already said it best. So if you can't top it, steal from them and go out strong. So I picked a guy I thought you'd like. 'We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory will swell when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature.'
    - American History X, movie.

  • Never assume. It makes an ass of you and me.
    - Shahid Nauman Afzal, Chemical Engineer.

  • The basis for optimism is sheer terror.
    - Oscar Wilde, Literati.

  • The whole notion of feeling happy and complete only if you are with someone is 'Evel'.
    - Emel Tarik Shaikh, Saxpijjan.

  • Islam is our Faith, Democracy is our Policy, and Socialism is our Economy; All Power to the People.
    - Zulfikar Ali Bhutto Shaheed, Quaid-e-Awam.

  • Today, a young man on acid realized that all matter is merely energy condensed to a slow vibration, that we are all one consciousness experiencing itself subjectively, there is no such thing as death, life is only a dream, and we are the imagination of ourselves. Here's Tom with the weather.
    - William Melvin 'Bill' Hicks, Comedian.

  • Every man, woman and child alive should see the desert one time before they die. Nothing at all for miles around, nothing but sand and rocks and cactus and blue sky. Not a soul in sight. No sirens, no car alarms, nobody honking at you, no madman cursing or pissing on the streets. You find the silence out there. You find the peace. You can find God.
    - 25th Hour, movie.

  • Jesus loves me, but I just want to be friends.
    - ?

  • I used to think if I killed somebody I would want to go to the cemetery and apologize. That's not really what guilt is though. Guilt's a feeling you have towards people who are living. It's like everyday you're out there shaking hands, talking. But you, the guilty person, you know that it's all unreal. It's like guilt is this secret inside of you that destroys the fabric of everything, and then everything's unreal. You can't even have a life. But it's not necessary for it to destroy you. You just have to face it.
    - Crime and Punishment in Suburbia, movie.

  • Apollo stood on the cliff. Come to the edge, he said. We can't, they said, it's too high. Come to the edge, he said. We can't, they said, it's too high. Come to the edge, he said. We can't, they said, we'll fall. Come to the edge, he said. They came. And he pushed them. And they flew.
    - Chicken Soup, book.






    • Thursday, March 17, 2005

    Dhoop Kinaaray - vol. 4

    Kiya jaanti ho tum zindagi ke baaray mein?
    Kis ne haq deeya hai tum ko doosroun per iss terha faislay jaari kerney ka?
    Zoya Ali Khan, meiney zindagi ko bohot qareeb se dekha hai.
    Iss ki badsoortiyoun ko benakaab dekha hai.
    Ao. Tumhay mein gher chorr aoon. Aur iss yakeen ke saath ke hum donoh aik doosray ke raastay mein kabhi nahi aingay.
    Zoya Ali Khan, tum ne mujhay jaana zaroor. Pehchaana kabhi nahi. Aur iss baat ka mujhay afsos bhee nahi; kyunke baz cheezein insaan ko mehez waqt aur tajurba hee sikhata hai.
    Lekin agar tum ne aik baar bhee apnay jaanay ke baad yeh socha ke mein apni zindagi mein hassta huwa phir waapis chala jaoonga; tum ne barri zyaddti kee merey saath, bara kamtar samjha mujhay.
    Zoya, mein jaa raha hoon mulk se bahar baray arsay ke liay. Ik baar socha tha ke hum aur tum apnay apnay masa'il se nikal ker aik saath reheingay.
    Mein ne joh kuch socha tha, woh ghalat thaa.
    Joh kuch paaya tha; ussay kho deeya.
    Yeh shayad meri taqdeer thee
    ya phir merey gunaahoun ki saza.

    Apna khayal rakhna..
    -Ahmar


    [Dysfunction Timestamp]
    Shemrez had writer's block at 5:26 PM
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    Saturday, March 05, 2005

    Olivia / My Suicidal Muse

    Olivia

    Poem by Syed Muhammad Ali Murtaza; March 04, 2004
    Dedicated to Jahanara Ijaz, My Suicidal Muse

    The coins clank
    The glasses tinkle
    The wind whispers –
    Whispers her name
    Sweet, supple, full and forlorn

    The lips conceal
    What the eyes reveal –
    They all miss her
    She whose name the wind whispers
    Sweet, supple, full and forlorn

    The talk strays to matters insignificant
    The gazes lock to the door; expectant
    Not a word concerning her is uttered
    But all heed to the wind that whispers
    Sweet, supple, full and forlorn

    Their hearts sink as time wears on
    Their minds reject the only possible answer to her absence
    No; their hearts shriek in protest
    They shun aside a possibility so grotesque
    That cant be possible –
    Of course she cares
    She whose name the wind whispers.
    Sweet. Supple. Full. And forlorn.

    The food depletes and the drink is consumed
    The slightest pretence of indifference is pruned
    They panic
    As reality dawns
    Oh lord, dear God –
    The sweet, supple full and forlorn really doesn’t care…

    -=-

    Ab agar tum milay toh
    Itna yakeen hai
    Hass deingay hum toh
    Rona nahi hai.

    In peace, love. Shine like the sun now. You have now become God's Smile, as you were ours.
    But you'll always be our smile. For now, make heaven complete; His Angel has returned.



    [Dysfunction Timestamp]
    Shemrez had writer's block at 4:55 PM
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    Friday, March 04, 2005

    Transience

    Its 2:53 am. And I’m shit depressed. I can’t sleep, I can’t manage to convince myself to rest. No sleep, no food, this is your way, right? Right back atcha.
    It’s just too fucked up. Life, the concept, everything. Too messed up. Get up so I can tell you.

    The screaming soliloquy that I be cloistered,
    And brided by the boatman of the barren styx,
    To be locked within loving Goddess Nyx.

    And did you know I hate it when I feel helpless? I need to talk to someone, I just need to let it all out, but I don’t want to disturb anyone. I don’t want to be a burden. People listen, yes they do. But maybe I don’t want them to...? So here I am, blabbing it all away, deleting and back-spacing because my fingers cant seem to get the right buttons. Its just too hard dammit... seeing it all, it running in front of your eyes just like a déjà vu. All over again. But the eyes aren’t closed this time; oh how I wish they were. If only you knew. Get up so I can tell you.

    Hellenic, thou art, bedded by ritual,
    sanguinary and sweet,
    Obscuring the plane where mind and body meet.

    And I know the time will come when I’ll have to delete this post. Someone will wake up and tell me to take this off. I know it’ll happen. Some things are hard to believe, you just can’t accept them. It’s called denial. But they have within them a lesson; that when the strength in the strong fades, the courage in the weak becomes imminent. But what if the moral of the story goes astray? What if the weak become weaker, and the strong just... fade away...? Does that not go against the whole purpose of the event? So there you have it. Hope must succeed. Prayer must flourish. And it will. Too bad if you want it otherwise, you’re not getting your way this time. I just read everything you wrote, and it suddenly makes sense. You got your way every other day, but this time, victory will belong to me. That’s what you call hope, innit? Get up so you can tell me.

    Sound not your requiem,
    Through my hollowed chambers of body, soul and mind,
    Tempestuous Lord, be not so unkind.

    Of ephemeral reticence, of the bandaged iris and the spawning wayward suicide. Amongst all this lies the smile.
    And those who fall, rise again. And those who pause, smile again.
    I know it. I so do.
    Its called hope.
    Get up so I can show you.

    Miracles can heal faith, if not re-construct them. They can. Its called hope.
    And miracles happen. You just have to wait and see. Its called hope, love. Hope.
    You just have to pray and believe. They come back, they always do.
    Before the morn, I was forsaken. Now, I believe.
    Its called hope.
    It’s the power of prayer.
    Get up, so I can share this feeling with you.

    You’re coming back. I know it.
    You need to know how pretty you look when you rest. So wake up and let me tell you.
    Its called hope. So don’t let me down. You better not let me down. Both of you. You know I’m talking to you.
    Don’t give up on me this time.


    [Dysfunction Timestamp]
    Shemrez had writer's block at 3:08 AM
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    Wednesday, March 02, 2005

    Homeless Erections; Stoned and Sacrilegious Heathen Gnosis

    A withle birdie with a dirty dirty mouth and no subtlety said to me that I don’t post regularly. Blah. That’s just to show that I have a life. Or maybe just writer’s block. I always wished I could write like Hajrah; have been wishing so ever since I started reading her works.

    Glad to see you’re alive, nush. Was getting a bit worried. Why? I won’t let you die without taking me to coffee again :D and I love tugging your hijab too. :D I’ve done that metroblogging.com thing you asked me, and I even got this reply from a “Sean Bonner”. Tell me what I have to do next. *hijab tug*

    And Arooj, I posted a comment on your blog to congratulate you on the Steve Vai scholarship. Always knew you could do it, so it’s no surprise, but still, commendable. Few people realize their true worth in this world, and glad to see you’re one of them. :)

    Ladies and Gentlemen, to Arooj Aftab and the gift of music; to majesty and the wine of life. Btw, I’ll also be helping Jahanzaib on that dedicated webpage he’s making for you. Plus, get in touch with me when you get back, planning a concert for the summer.

    I would’ve scrapped you all this, but you get so many scraps that my message would get lost in the silicon void within nanoseconds. :P

    Just watched ‘And starring Pancho Villa as himself’, ‘The Recruit’ and ‘Intolerable Cruelty’ in rapid succession/concurrence. Amazing movies. Kinda make you really want to pursue a career in film-making and the arts, but bah, once you’ve watched ‘The Insider’, it starts right there. Al Pacino and Russell Crowe are simply indescribable with their panache on screen. Now I know what making characters come to life really means. And I’ve become really political nowadays. Invigorating discussions, logic and future intertwined; bliss. But only in person; can never trust the Pakistani intelligence systems and surveillance networks. And the A-1 Team Pakistan inauguration was the BOMB!

    And I really love the topic of this blog too. Been thinking of it for a long time, and finally, here it is. Kinda perverted, but that’s me. You should see the blogs that Sarah Arshad lands on!

    Wanton dreams; sacrificed
    On the altar where dreams perish
    My mind’s third eye now
    Shut forever
    With my will incarcerated
    And my heart, no sound it makes
    And my worth, it moves not.

    So the other day, it got me wondering how over-rated illegal intoxicants really are. I know I’ve been advocating this idea a lot, but I don’t know why, I’m never addicted to anything. And there’s some part in me that says its not right. Or maybe it is.

    There are some things I cant let go of. But that’s because I don’t want to let go.

    And maybe I’m not too keen on letting everything else be a consistent part of my life. Some say I’m too weak, others say I agree with the former. What an idiosyncrasy!

    So anyway, yesterday my mum tried (emphasis on TRIED) to talk to me about mysticism and Bulleh Shah and Waris Shah, and what the mystic concept of God is. This is what I believe; it is inherently the ideology of searching and finding in God what we mortals look for in other human beings; i.e. the idea of love. Apart from that, it is also a sense of having evolved to a humanly superior level without actually boasting about it. Anyway, with my interpretation of concept; human love hurts for it is imperfect. Love for God hurts only our mortality; in its divinity, it is pure and supreme. It is painless, and yet so blissful. That is the exact reason why Hayùnna often referred to God as her bridegroom, and Rab’ia of Basra tilted in that direction as well (though I would certainly love to bring this topic up with Margaret Smith and question the roots of this analysis). I believe it to be a predecessor to asceticism and purgation, so I am generally inclined towards the mystic subject of Gnosis; higher, the pursuit and suggested eventual acquisition of somewhat godly/cherubic knowledge while having a subsistent presence in the mortal, tangible realm. Consider me heathen, but I don't care, its what I am.

    And as you finish reading this, you shall derive a morbid undertone of the blog’s content and the blog’s topic note, and an equally melancholic, gruesome connection between them both.

    Ooh ooh P.S.! Wish me good luck for the BNU script competition. The winner will be announced on March 3rd.



    [Dysfunction Timestamp]
    Shemrez had writer's block at 2:28 AM
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    Enough...