Author Archives: mp

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Amalgamating

Given, I don’t know as much as I would like to about the recent E-Crimes Bill, the ones who are in the know, private officials of course, seem to think the bill is a violation against any citizen’s basic right to privacy. What I’ve read about it, I can’t help but concur. The Government’s Big Brotherish tactics it seems, are gaining more publicity and recognition although whether or not anything will be done about it, remains to be seen.

After all, wasn’t the Chief Justice reinstatement supposed to herald ‘change’? They ruled favorably towards the hair transplanted (wigged?) Nawaz but They (the Other They – don’t want to be too specific – might land me in jail, apparently) deported him off again. Some power! But then, that might just my personal cynicism towards the sense of law and order in this country. To quote Ars Technica: Law & Disorder.

Although one thing can be said about living in this constant state of political unrest: there are no shortage of subjects to write upon. Then of course, there’s the Victorian Era we still live in in terms of marital proposals and societal propriety. “Modernity” might cling wrap, attach itself to the highest echelons of society, but still we can’t escape our Victorian roots. Among our last colonial heritages, we should be proud.

True, this entry isn’t strictly about writing, but I did mention it somewhere in there, so I think it qualifies. Things go slow on the site – we have our periods of slumps apparently, and there’s only so much I can do alone – yes, I have other responsibilities, but I don’t believe that they should hinder my role of caretaker of the site. If only others shared in that noble conception.

Can you feel the snark?

One parting remark, though note that it’s wholly unrelated to any of the above: writers are supposed to be the loners of society, and I’ve seen several in my acquaintance circle who seem to embrace it all too naturally. Indeed, I was among them. But one thing needs to be made clear: we might think we can make it, but man’s inherent nature isn’t to be alone.

Food for thought.

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Art.

I’m running on less than four hours of sleep, and yes I like announcing that – didn’t I mention somewhere upthread that I’m horribly vain? For all the busybodies out there, I’m off the clock work wise, which means I’m free as a bee until Iftari. Genius! I rhymed.

I’ve been struggling lately with Numb, my latest “short” story although given the stuff I’m planning for this little foray into twisted personalized fiction, it might not be too short and maybe not even much of a story. Why the negativity, you ask, especially with all the grrreat vibes I’ve been sending out there with the perseverance and the persistence and all that jazz? The story and its associated characters, lines, alleys and byways have been on my mind for weeks. Although I must confess: the starting paragraph, as relentless and difficult as its been, sets exactly the tone I was aiming for. But then, I only did scratch and rewrite it four times. Those attempts are all saved of course…who knows when I might need them after all. They’re good to save for a rainy day.

Speaking of rainy days, it poured here in Isloo for all of a little over 60 minutes before giving way for the sun to peer in through the nonexistent gaps of a few hours ago. It hailed too, as if He was trying to prove something. Last time it hailed, we were sitting at Civil Junction enjoying the first rains of the monsoons, and the discussion about the poetry of the season gave way to my own personal description of the scene soon after, in Color Me In while staring out onto the veranda of my lounge. (Note: my lounge, not the desi writer’s lounge).

I think, as I expressed in The Writer’s Journal forum, that a part of the reason for not being able to move past with Numb, is because a lot of it will come from experience with a certain crowd that I’m just not as willing to share, or more appropriately, I don’t want to be affiliated with. And I really don’t know whether my personal strengths still hold with the person I used to be, and who I’ve since struggled to unlearn.

There was a writer’s quote I read a few weeks ago, about how writers strip bare in their stories, of how disrobed they appear to the public in their works, and how much of themselves really goes into each attempt. Because if you’re committed to telling that story, invariably bits of you find their way in and the absurd fact is: once they’re written and put up, that’s it. There’s no taking them back. You are what you write, really. It’s actually that simple.

And I suppose a part of me is terrified with what Numb will uncover. Because aren’t stories just always personal inroads, discoveries into your untold treasure chest of secrets? But of course, nobody knows specifics. After all, what fun would that be?

Being a writer is a shitty job, and it’s more than a job, because you’re often not paid for it, or not paid enough. So it’s an obsession, a devotion, an insane asylum. It’s many things to many people, but it’s an art.

That’s the only unarguable fact.

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Because a member responded to the podcasting news on the main page of our website, I’ve come to the realization, sudden and absolute: I haven’t really planned the entire operation. I should, because what if someone else steps up? Terrifying.

As it is, I’m still mulling over the different features the website should have when I outsource it to another company instead of doing it myself. There are limits to my knowledge, I must admit and besides, I’d rather have something classy which can be achieved by working with someone else. I dictate, they implement. It’ll be a reversal of roles – I’ve never been a client before. Should be interesting.

Very small post, this just to keep those fingers moving than for any extrinsic value of its own. That’s it for now.

I’m too tired and drained to write anything else.

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Bookworm: Arise

As a follow up to the original “Bookworm” blog post, I need to add that The News has its own literary section, dubbed ‘Literati’ and apparently runs a Zia Mohiuddin column on its front page (NOS). I must confess, that its been close to five years since I last picked up The News and in that interim have fallen quite in love with Books & Authors instead, so my ignorance needs to be appreciated.

In addition, I have been directed to a few equally informative links, posted at the end of the blog post containing among many, NYT’s podcast book reviews, which yet again goes to show the limits to which literary podcasts are being put to. However, let’s not talk about that, shall we?

Another interesting blog is a Booker Prize shortlist – Indra Sinha – the author of Animal’s People. That brings up the rear to Hamid’s The Reluctant Fundamentalist and brings the number of nominated desi authors to two. Both books, it seems, have sold very few copies in England although Hamid’s book I know, has done quite well in the US.

Out of the 6 links I was directed to, 4 were Indian which yet again goes to show how far the people on the other side of the border have come in terms of literary achievements. There needs to be a forum in Pakistan by which the creative talents of this country are heard. There is a very apparent gap between the two nations in terms of this. Even our writers write about widely differing things – you’ll see a trend in most Indian authors – to write the common man’s story, while ours almost always deal with the elitists – a small segment of the population. Are we really going to wake each other up to the horrors and realities of this nation by our own tales? Is this what will bring our people out of their stupor? The new “It crowd” generation of writers seems to have one thing in common: a demeaned sense of reality (and morality too, for that matter). It may seem naive, but I cling to the opposite side with an odd strain of optimism. In the end, my stories are real, they talk about reality and what’s in the present and now, and how inevitably, the people we trust, and in particular – family, the importance of which – we must never underestimate. Perhaps my own strong relationship with the people in my life inevitably brings me back to this again and again, but I believe to be whole, we don’t need to look very far in our lives. We don’t need to write books upon books showing us mirrors to our own lives, albeit in twisted and convoluted ways.

Given, I find a comfortable home in the upper middle class, and there are times when my pride comes in the way of my better judgment, but I am no elitist. I must confess: I don’t know how the very elite in our country live, and will go out on a limb to add another thing: I don’t want to. I’m quite content with life on this side of the tracks. I do not look over the fence at the other side with longing, I do not look at all. And there are others like me. So how really do books like Kartography (from an author I admire: Kamila Shamsie has shown me much through her work), Moth Smoke, Trespassing and the like help us? What do they say about the country? What tales do those words weave? There are no common issues – issues understandable by all – issues like class, sectarianism, extremism, zina and the Hudood Ordinance and its true interpretation in Islam – the differences between that and how it’s depicted socially. There is no mention of religion at all and yet the clash between the modernists and the moderates and the extremists has been a decades long one. So what subset of the population do these stories really represent? Because it isn’t the upper middle class, in fact the middle class is entirely absent in these tales. The stories don’t seem to be about anything – they don’t seem to want to bring the population to its knees – to force them to understand both sides of conflicting issues. They seem only to add more fuel to the fire, to propagate not educate, to generalize not dissect, to be read and not understood. How true do their stories really ring, and are they truly written with a purpose in mind? The reason Pakistani authors are not completely on the map, is because we don’t write about serious things – we pick up “safe” topics – nothing beyond the ordinary excites us.

Things must change if we expect to move forward. The next generation of writers – today’s generation of writers must exact change, must think outside the box – must not sink in the mud of the writers preceding them.

Now is the time to surface, isn’t it?

Links referenced in this post:
Indra Sinha’s Blog
The Hindu’s Literary section
New York Time’s Book Review Podcasts

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It’s not personal, right?

This article is an excellent example of what I’ve been mentioning time and again. Given, it is nearly two years old, but the fact that we’re still facing the same problem, doesn’t bode well for the next two. Talking it over with my sister, made me realize an important point: what we, the desi writers, are doing and who we’re aiming for, are the intellectuals – the writers, poets, artists, playwrights, screenwriters – thinkers, and as such, aren’t catering for the mainstream desi population but a very small subset.

However, I do believe, despite what the others say, that we need to up our quality. How else will we make our mark on the world wide web? I don’t want to sound like one of those ‘it’s my way or the highway’ kind of people, because that’s not who I am. Part of the success of the site has to be attributed to the feedback and comments of others, which although I don’t always like or agree with (it’s my baby, for crying out loud! Would you like it?), I do try to incorporate if I think it helps the overall attractive quality. Within reason, so to speak.

In other news, The Jane Austen Book Club is due out next weekend. That’s one I want to see, but forces me to ask the obvious: what is it with Hollywood and Jane Austen this year? We’ve got two films featuring the esteemed authoress in some capacity, in two very different flicks. Not having seen Anne Hathaway’s representation of a young Austen in Becoming Jane, I can’t pass judgment, but from the trailer I did see, her accent slipped and that’s saying something. It was a two minute trailer. Now don’t get me wrong – I like the actress, and I think she’s talented – but appropriately conquering the Colonial accent has long been a challenge for thespians from the other side of the Atlantic. Whereas I think the ones from this side of the ocean seem to do a better job of capturing the nasal tones of the Americans, in general. And when I say “the ones from this side”, I’m not including desi talent, which seems to overemphasize the r’s, lose the t’s and substitute them with d’s, case in point: water – wader. I kid you not. As someone having lived the better part of my life in the American educational system, I can say something with complete confidence: you’re missing the point.

Chowk, my prime competitor for now (it’s been there a decade so obviously they’ve got a huge edge, and they can also be said to boast my work. What?! What better way to clobber the competition than from within enemy lines?) doesn’t figure into my plans for world dominion. Our writers are by far more talented, but they’ve got the big wigs. Doesn’t matter. We’ve got contacts, and might be willing to pull those strings if needed. But I think I need to remind myself that a lot of this is going to take some time. Especially since we’re not really politically oriented, which is Chowk’s major advantage. We cater more to the hardcore creative thinkers, so there’s the “subset” theory all over again. We’re the kind who go to coffee houses and cafes for the intellectual company, and less for drinking the beverage.

To that effect, there is something of a hang out in Isloo’s Civil Junction, most especially their politically effusive menu. And sure, maybe somewhere down the line, you might see a Desi Writer’s Lounge in the flesh grace the streets, but that’s still a while away yet. So why don’t we avail the resources on hand, now?

There will be a revamped site however – and there will be more columns – and something more of a magaziney feel to it. I do promise a higher level of quality if I have to handpick the pieces myself, because unlike some, I believe we’ve earned the right to pick and choose.

Any comments? No one comments on anything. If you keep this up, I’ll start to take it personally.

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The Process of Things

Because I am now in a position to afford to hire a professional team to redesign and develop the site, I’m going to take the opportunity. There are a host of things I’ve always wanted to incorporate but because of a lack of time, knowledge and updates for the software solutions I’ve elected, haven’t been able to.

Besides, this way the forums will be our own instead of the phpBB framework we run currently, and might possibly move away from Joomla, but that’s only a distant forecast. Before I start getting all techno geeky, I should divert attention.

Alert: It seems me and my pieces are making a mark on the popular Chowk network – Pakistan’s first independent thinking and encouraging, for that matter, website. I find it odd, for some reason, that the piece attracting a great deal of attention, although among my better ones, doesn’t seem worthy. My own personal favorite is Color Me In which hasn’t received enough good press as the more mellowed out, reminiscent All My Love. At the risk of ruining all that is so beautiful about the piece: this was written with my mind still transfixed on the beach house in Karachi’s Manora district, and is not related to my own experience as a lover at all. I did find it easy to put myself in that position however – I mean, how can you not think about it with the sea breeze and the miles and miles of sea – whatever else I may be, I’m not heartless. Suffice to say, seeing the sea at such close quarters for the first time in my life, had a profound effect on both my life and my work in a way I couldn’t possibly have foreseen boarding the plane en route to attend a family wedding. Why is it always weddings, I wonder? Or more appropriately, why is it always Karachi?

I was asked today, how I write, what my exact process is. I find it so difficult to quantify how to go about things. Is there really a set of rules by which all writers must adhere to and abide? Do we measure our work against a yardstick of writers past and present? And does that really do justice to our own abilities as writers and creative thinkers? My personal opinion is to look upon your influences as just that: influences, and write whatever you want in whatever style appeals to you at that point. As you continue writing over the years, you will be able to gauge what specific attributes of a particular style appeal to you, and in general, you’ll always stick to some form of that original concept. But this of course, is what it was like for me. What it will be like for you, I have no idea, but I can guarantee the process of discovery is in itself the most thrilling aspect of writing.

Above all else of course, you must really want it. Writing, as mentioned earlier, isn’t for the faint of heart. If you want to set out on that deadly path, you have to be prepared for the rollercoaster ride and possible madhouse, each day will be. There’s nothing easy about writing – it’s brutal, time consuming and each story seems after your own heart – but then it’s over, and oh the joy! You love to hate it, but the reality of course, is always (and rightfully so), different.

I’m past my allotted bedtime and I need to be up in less than four hours.

Toodles.

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Again?

A strange thing has occurred – anything with *.blogger.com works – but the second you hit something.blogspot.com, all hell breaks loose. Nothing opens. I kid you not, and I’m wondering whether Pakistan’s government has imposed the blogging ban all over again? Anyone knowing anything about this, feel free to email me and let me know. This is ridiculous, otherwise.

With great difficulty, I’ve landed here, into the posting of things.

(ETA: Nothing was wrong: blogspot was misbehaving and apparently, that’s usual. Tragic. Google’s definitely the new Microsoft).

Ramadhan’s started tonight, with our first fast tomorrow although it’s started for Muslims based in America, so if you’re a Muslim and you’re reading this blog, wherever you are in the world, Ramadhan Mubarik (“congratulations on the start of the holy month”, although it seems so small when it’s translated).

And now, I should come up with something really productive since I really have no idea when I’ll be able to login again (if this blogspot love/hate relationship stands to continue indefinitely).

The Addams Family recently wrapped up production, although I’m not sure what the response was. Since very few of my circle actually bothered to turn up, I’m thinking it might not have been all that great. But that’s only a prediction, not fact, so don’t quote me on this.

A steady stream of traffic has been coming our way, courtesy of this blog, so maybe this is turning out to be a good idea after all. However, one suggestion: you could drop a comment at either the blog or the site, regarding your thoughts and opinions on it. Who knows? We might implement one of your thoughtful suggestions. I think I should put up news about our site on the site too, from time to time. At least let people know what’s happening, for those who don’t frequent this blog as much.

Among the theatrical production houses, a common stream of thought seems to be propagating like fire: the development of Islamabad’s first theater for theatrical productions. It’s true: we do need one, it sure would compensate for the limited seating Islamabad Club (bless it) currently offers. The problem with plays here, is that the commercial/advertising partners seem intent on making as much money (read: sell as many tickets as humanely possible) for a given show, so the result is, if you don’t queue up early, you might have bought the same priced seat, but have to sit on a stair or worse, stand. My line has always been: stretch the shows out for longer if necessary, and sell only the amount of tickets as there are seats. What’s the point, if you’re getting no value for money in terms of comfort? It isn’t fair at all. You pay, you should get what you pay for. It is that simple, and corporations in other countries recognize this. Sophistication (like corruption), begins at the very top.

Besides, I feel we’ve had enough adaptations and we should be ready for a little creative maturity and start developing original works of art. How long are we going to stay within the shadow of Hollywood, and not step into our own limelight? But really, how much can we take living off the creativity of others, is the far bigger question. I mean, enough is enough already, no? Real, original productions with real, original messages and real, original humor. “Real, original” being the watchwords in the sentence, apparently.

A desi writer member and friend, feels that creating an original play takes a lot of courage, which is natural. Or is the indirect point she’s making that we don’t possess any truly courageous talents in the country? Could be, but I disagree. I believe we’ve got the talent in the right sectors, but no one knows it yet, and why may I ask? Why aren’t more people stepping forward? And I don’t mean the people who think they can write, but the ones that know they can and do a good job of it? Why aren’t the truly talented playwrights really getting out there, and showing something to the world? Sure, another desi writer and friend and now producer, director and playwright, Osman Khalid Butt, with his house The Living Picture Productions, is out there but he’s just one person in a multitude of so many. I run a writer’s website, I interact with these talented individuals on a daily basis. My question is simple: why aren’t more of them out there? Why not show some confidence and pride in your work? Strive to be different; don’t feed on existing material. Create your own.

Besides the writing of things, we need serious, strong, committed actors not students right out of school or college or worse, working in other fields. They always end up with musical toned, pretentious, one-dimensional portrayals of otherwise, very interesting characters. Theater should be pursued as a dedicated field in our country.

How else are we going to spread the word?

The only way is up, people. Let’s not slow ourselves down, here.

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Numb

That’s the title of a story I’m hankering after. Note the word usage – “hankering” because I haven’t got anywhere yet – throws my last post into a tizzy, doesn’t it? I’ve got a nine hour work day, which comprises mostly of sitting before my laptop, doing market research and trends, and then writing about it. So at the end of the day, you’d much prefer not spending any more time with the widescreens of this world. Hypocritical, I know.

The problem isn’t with the idea – I’ve got it all nailed down – I’ve got the two leads and their lives all planned out…okay, mostly, not completely but still. And now of course, my time table’s changing after tomorrow – Friday, I’ll be reporting for work at 6.30 am. Yes, you read right. But we’re off at 2.30 pm so something needs to be said. No sleep after sehr, then eh? Worse things have happened. I’ll live.

But back to this elusive idea – the story appeals to me – it picks up on the emotional underbelly, which for anyone who has ever read my past stories, knows I love. It isn’t just the darkness that’s drawing (while simultaneously repelling) me closer each day, it’s the wealth of emotions I’ll be dealing with. And of course, the families and their protagonists are from backgrounds I understand and to a degree, can empathize with.

And after pushing away my trademark conversation dialog: dry, witty, sarcastic – I’m finding myself being drawn back. Though, let’s face it: I’m good at it. I like looking at life through unfocused lenses – it’s like looking at the world through the bottom of a glass – I like the skewed, distorted images transmitted back. That may be the reason the darkness of things so attracts me, because here’s a fact: it’s so much more fascinating to write about. How much can you write about happiness and birds chirping? The evil, dark side of our emotions are so much easier. No? Am I the only one seeing the complexities, here?

I suppose, to put it simplistically: the psychological and anthropological aspects of it are what really attract me.

I think we each have the capacity to commit something truly heinous, but the right blend of time, circumstance and the fortification of our relationships is what stops us. I also believe that the root of all evil, lies in society and the lack of understanding it affords to the lesser fortunate, and if we are to truly realize that in every walk of life, we should at least try to understand. The only way I can understand, or at least live through their lives (from my own perspective, of course – the writer’s perspective inevitably seeps in – or if it doesn’t, that’s just another thing I need to learn), is to write about it. Sure, it might not be something I know, but we often need to step out of our comfort zones to straighten the crookedness in our worlds, to get a broader experience and perspective.

Choose to be broadminded.

I’ve said time and again, that the perspective and changes my work affords me, are unparalleled and have forced me to alter my opinions and mind on things I observed with rigidity, to the surprise of family and friends. And yes, I can be torn sometimes between following what’s right and what’s expected, but that’s only human.

But I believe in justice, in finding the truth no matter how unfavorable or ungainly it might be and my journey often takes me to places (both personal and social) I wouldn’t be able to traverse otherwise. So I’ll keep doing what I’m doing, in the hopes that I will continue to find answers.

Maybe someday I’ll write those socio-religio-politico stories everyone thinks I’m in the midst of, but until then.

Now, all I need to do is move past this first line…

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Lightning…thunder! LIGHTNING.

Writer’s block. You hear about it a lot, but the concept is a relatively new one, created like all new things by the American writers. Blocks weren’t considered or even accepted by the English speaking world at large, until the Americans came along and decided to compartmentalize the world’s woes. Don’t believe me? Do your research. I did. What can I say? I’m curious.

But I jest – it traces its earliest roots to the Romantics – it seems a little “artistic” to justify a lag in creativity by suggesting that the artist is so talented and immensely chock full of ideas, that when something’s wrong, it’s presumably because something has happened stemming that flow. Does it exist or is it just an excuse? I think it’s a bit of both, but I do believe with careful dedication and determination, you can push right through.

“Writer’s block? What writer’s block?” That kinda thing. I remember reading a quote somewhere about having to chase creativity with a club, instead of waiting for it to happen, which is a sound concept. You can’t expect lightening to strike twice, after all. Or you can subscribe to the Romantic notion, and imagine it does.

But what about Edison’s golden rule? Genius is 99% perspiration, 1% inspiration.

Although writing is part of the arts, in general, it does merit respect on its own. The wonderful thing about writers is that they’re able to see art in everyday life. What separates us from the rest of the world, after all? One of the major things we’re always asked is: where do you get your ideas from…I mean, that’s just it isn’t it? We don’t wait for them to come to us, because how does that separate us from the people who write occasionally or the office worker who sits on his report for the next big thing, because the idea hasn’t “come” to him yet?

I used to be among the lightning crowd, not realizing that writing, like its counterparts, requires discipline. Sit down each day and go after the idea, honing, refining, allowing it to bide its time, and you’ll never suffer a writer’s block. Your mind isn’t blocked – it’s a state of mind – if you want to think it, you’ll want to believe it, because isn’t it just so much easier to say you’re “suffering” from writer’s block instead of “I lack the drive to finish what I’ve started”?

And I find when I open my mind up to new and different ideas, they come with no hint of subsiding. As long as the wheels in your mind are turning, what else do you really need? And let’s face it: the mind never stops working. If you’re serious enough about your craft, you’ll chase the words down, and they won’t stop until you tell them to. Because writing is a lot about control – it’s part of the reason why writers feel like gods in their worlds – they’re in total control. What happens when you let it slide?

You get lazy, that’s what.

No idea what’s on the horizon next. As it is, I don’t feel this was written quite as well as my other posts. Oh well…long day. Lame argument, I know.

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Bookworm: Items on Display

Mohsin Hamid’s The Reluctant Fundamentalist has been shortlisted for the Booker Prize, to the confusion and disillusionment of the desi crowd over at the Lounge and from the reading I’ve been doing lately, at large. One of our writers and site’s moderators, based in Washington was at hand during Hamid’s readings at Barnes & Noble, and read the book. The vote was unanimous: it just wasn’t up to par. So why has it been shortlisted? Everyone else, it seems, is wondering the very same thing.

Is it the theme of the novel? The overdone Muslim living in America-fallen in love with an American-now looked on with suspicion-in a post 9/11 world-thing again? It might be. The literariness of things which so concerns us, doesn’t seem to concern the English community as well. Oh well. I suppose beggars can’t be choosers. Or something like that.

Fortunately, we’re not discussing Hamid’s latest attempt at an international bestseller coming a few years (but not enough, it seems) too late.

My last post ended with the intimation that this one was going to be about book clubs. Well, it is and it isn’t. Blogs are so hard to classify sometimes, don’t you think?

Book clubs are, to put it quite simply, non-existent in countries like ours where government officials refuse to allow now exonerated politicians to enter their countries, and instead deport them elsewhere, even when the Supreme Court has ruled otherwise. It seems some things just don’t change. But I digress. Book clubs aren’t evident here, and if they are, they’re mostly private gatherings (although I confess: I haven’t heard of any local or national or domestic, for that matter). But the whole “this thing isn’t here either. Screw the country!” is getting a little old for me. I like to switch things around a lot, which is something the readers of this blog will become accustomed to over time. Although, if you’re ree-eeally interested, check out my space (shameless self-promotion, I know. I’m a horrible human being, let’s move on).

So granted, there aren’t book clubs and let’s get down to the dirty stuff: we at DesiWritersLounge.net know what you, as readers and possibly, budding writers want – a place to discuss everything. We provide it. Interested? Good. Frankly, I was hoping I raked your interest much earlier in the blog, but as mentioned before, beggars really can’t be picky.

Fortunately, Dawn provides an escape with its rather well-worked, although concededly poorly edited, weekly – Books & Authors. They’ve got book reviews, interviews with authors, the whole shebang. And if it weren’t for this thing, my Sundays would be largely boring and banging-head-on-the-wall days. Fortunately for both of us, it exists. So if you haven’t subscribed to Dawn yet, do. I’ll admit the newspaper in itself, is paltry compared to the hardcore news The News provides, but it’s plethora of extras is well worth it, especially if you’ve got an internet connection and can skedaddle off to their website.

So that’s one problem down.

Dawn’s extras are miles better than the ones The News provides. Sorry, The News fans (of which, I used to count myself as one. Things change…or I’m more open to the good stuff), but it’s true. You, Us, Instep, The News on Sunday…can you really compare yourself to ScienceTech (or whatever it’s called), Young World, Books & Authors, The Review, Magazine, Images etc? I mean seriously, can you? It’s not just the amount of pages on display here, it’s the content they’re stuffed with. I love the SWOT (I’m in love with the acronym) column that appears each Sunday at the very end of the Magazine. And of course, there’s the Gallery, a review of artistic ventures in the country. So really, if you need to be aware of anything literary or artistic, consult Books & Authors and the Gallery circulations. They’re decent.

Also, all those Lahore-walay out there, there’s an excellent bargain book store on MM Boulevard, right next to the Telenor building, called Readings. Of course, if you’re an Islamabad resident, you’re well aware that what it lacks in literary activities, it makes up for with its variety of old book stores. I found a treasure in a book store in Jinnah – in the Vogue furniture store line – Rilla of Ingleside (the last of the Anne series, which I own). So they are all over the city, although I haven’t been able to find any in its most youth oriented district – F-11. But who knows? One might spring up. There are three in the F-10 area and of course enough to write home about in F-6, F-7 and F-8. I lived half my life in the latter two.

Anyway, aside from domestic chatter, I’m off.

Next post (whenever that might be): writing strategies, or to be more specific, how to get the work done, instead of staring at an empty page all day. Having been there and back again, I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve. But more on that next time.