The Party...

I remember the times when there were so few parties in town that one had to wait for extended periods of time, from party to party, and except for that it used to be a problem getting into a party, unless you knew a few connected people. 

But now the situation is different. Now one has grown-up and one can join a party or throw a party, and believe me one can party as long and as much as one can. So it was once again one of those days, when the party was on and one moved around, with a glass half full or half empty, but half a glass, of a delicious drink of heaven. 

It was not my party, although it was at my place, and I had a hard time deciding my role in the party, which should be that of a host, as it was my place, but on the other hand it was a party organized and managed by someone else. So technically I was a guest. 

The best thing about these parties was that you could be what you wanted to be, not only in the sense of being a guest or a host, but you could be a filthy rich playboy, a lusty rock singer, a rational rights activist, a jolly harmless fellow, a secret agent, a teacher, a writer, a theatre artist, I’ve-been-there traveller or, whatever role your imagination could offer you.

The best thing about these parties was that they always hosted a very international crowd, so there always was something to talk about, and someone to talk to. As I spoke more than one languages, I always had a very good time at these parties. Unlike some people I liked to move around, with my glass in my hand, from one group of people to the other, from one conversation to the other, and for me the beauty of these parties was that the versatility of crowd meant broad spectre of topics, from literature and art, to politics and business. 

In fact the list of interests gathered in any one party, on any one given day, was always so vast that I will not even bother my fingers to type it all out. Sometimes, you could even hear people talking, at the party, about the evil-intentions of the party organizers. It was like they would be in the party, but at the same time they would be trying to compel others that the party was organized to fool the crowd.

Ever since I had started going to these parties, the list of my friends had increased manifold. Most of my party friends were compulsive party goers, because, whenever I got to the party, on any given day, either all or most of them would be there. So, to see those friends, all I had to do was to go to the party. It in fact got so absurd that some of my friends; from before the party-mania, who also started going to the party before or after me; would only meet at the party. We stopped calling or visiting each other otherwise, and more so, it became so addictive that we started calling each other not to talk, but to ask to come to the party, where we shared our ideas, opinions and information. 

Anyway, it was one of those usual days, when I had nothing better to do than to party, so I prepared myself and went to join the party as a guest. As I have already told you, it was my place, but I was not the host, just a mere guest, who could be thrown out of the party at any given time, for any major or minor breach of code of ethics.

Oh did I forget to tell you that those parties were not all that wild and free. Although one expected it to be so, and it started like this, but with the passage of time a certain code of ethics had evolved and all the party goers were bound to abide by that code. 

But as anywhere else, there was this hierarchy of partying buffoons, which made the application of the said code of ethics, very subjective. Some low standing, unpopular and new party-buffoons, could be expelled for an indecent word, whereas the higher standing, old timers, could do a lot of the so-called restricted things. But the point of the matter is that the party was there and just like any gathering it had its ups and downs and that, for me, was one of the most interesting things in the party.

So, I got ready to join the party and to tell you the truth I did a lot of preparation automatically. It was something of a ritual already, which started as soon as you woke-up and went through the preparation phases, until you entered the party and then majority of times you would leave the party, when you could not take it anymore.

So with my drink of heaven in my one hand, I opened the door to the party with the other and a sense of satisfaction ran deep down my soul, because the party was at its full swing, as always, and there were a lot of known faces there; some of whom I wanted to see that day and some, who didn’t bother me with their presence. 

Right by the entrance, I was told that I had 5 private messages, left by those, who probably wanted to see me, in particular, on that day. Apart from those messages, I also received 21 open notes, by friends and accomplices, who wanted me to know, what they had been up to. 

As soon as I grabbed the messages, I saw a message from a fellow party goer and a friend, who always writes messages and I answer them and sometimes these non-personalized communications continue for hours in a row and are very interesting.

Why non-personalized? Because till this day I have not seen her. She is at the party, but I have no clue, about who she is. And since I don’t know anyone who knows her, I can’t seem to find her. Whenever, I enter a party and am handed my messages, I mostly find her messages on top and read them first and knowing that this is the only channel of communication, always promptly respond.

Many a times, I looked around at the other participants of the party and wondered who she might be, but I have not yet succeeded in finding the person behind these messages. Her messages are not detached or alienated. They are very close and homey, but she is a mystery. 

So anyway, I read the messages and then took a look at the party log to see, who had interest, in me, knowing about their activities. There wasn’t any eye catching thing in that pack of 21 notices, so I turned my attention to the main party hall. 

At the first glance all I could hear was a multilingual chatter. I could see some friends with their companies, at different locations within the hall, and all of them were busy in conversations. It seemed like a chatter, because there were conversations going on in languages that I knew, and the ones I did not. But just as coming into a dark room from under bright sunlight, you seem to go blind for a moment, until your eyes adjust to the level of darkness, after which you can see and make sense of things, same way always, when you enter an ongoing party, your brain needs a moment to adjust to the rhythm, before that chatter turns into an understandable process of speech.

Scanning the hall I saw my friend @Hasan Shiraz, who was standing with some of his friends and was busy in some conversation. He was talking and the others, listening to him had different kinds of emotions on their faces. Some looked tense, whereas others seemed to be enjoying something positive in the conversation. I took another sip from my glass and casually moved in on that group of people, where I only knew one person, but in these parties, friends of friends are always welcome.

Coming close I got hold of the conversation. @Shiraz Hassan: “My journey with Jehan Pakistan ended today. Ek Sukh milya so dukh mukkay”.

Shahzad Ahmad: “Maan sadqay... jeonda wasda raoo... hun ki karna ay?”

@Khurram Butt: “Why dear?”

@Shiraz Hassan: “Pakoray di rehri laani ae”

@Shahzad Ahmad: “5000 di investment meray walon vi” 

@Shahzad Ahmad: “Lets do it this Ramzan... Meain chuti kay liay apply kar doon?”

@Shiraz Hassan: “Lol”.

@Shahzad Ahmad: “Net Freedom Pakoray, Freedom of Expression Chat, Surveillance Dahi balhay etc. etc. Plan?”

@Raza Ali: “Pakore di rehri sab ton acha idea hai. Azadi, jadon chao rehri lao, jadon na chao na lao. Koi boss nahin, koi deadline nahin..........koi pambal nahin”.

@Saalik Siddiqui: “Kal main ik rehRRi di photo post kiti si, karaaey te chaahi di aey te gal karaan owner naal ....”. 

@Shiraz Hassan: “Done hai boss Shahzad Ahmad”

@Shahzad Ahmad: “Bhai hamain to bas yahi kuch baychna aata hay” 

@Raza Ali: “Koi tan waiche, koi man waiche...........per behtar ae pakore hi waicho”

@Shahzad Ahmad: “Har ek kilo pakoray kay saath, digital security awareness free What do you think? I think we can make it big... I have 5000 to invest in this. How much you have? We can apply and request Maryam Nawaz Sharif to give us 15-20,000 ka qarza... ni?”

@Raza Ali: “waise pakore changae na lagan, pakora dekh ke apna nak yaad aa jae, te fer rehri te samose waicho”

@Saalik Siddiqui: “sir ji 2 rehRRiyaan laao ....

JAMHOORI PAKORRAY vs INQILAABI PAKORRAY... INQILAABI rehRRi te main vi pack karan lai khalo jaavaan ga .... wages ik plate bhar ke pakoRRyaan di .....”

@Raza Ali: “@Shahzad Ahmed pakore di rehri waste Maryam Nawaz Sharif nahin, sirf himat di zaroorat ae. Rheri na mile te chaaba lao.........”

@Shahzad Ahmad: “I know lokaan nay rehrian toon ghar banaiay nay... its pretty good money in the end” 

@Raza Ali: “Jamhoori Naan te Awami pakora. Utte naan, thale naan, wich pakore di nist mari gaye..............hai wachara pakora”

@Raza Ali: “Important thing is that are you going for the PAKORA business for money or for freedom............If you are going for money then think again.......if your target is freedom.........then get a REHRI”

@Paramita Daw: “Why dear....! Have you quit your job?”

@Saalik Siddiqui: “Aik special offer for each customer: His / her pic with a plate of pakoRRay will be posted on Facebook ....... hehehehehe !”

@Raza Ali: “Saare boli jande o..........rehri wala aape te chup ae..........onun vee te pucho wachare nun............JOBLESS ho ke oda ki haal ae”.

@Sami Qazi: “Best of luck for future endeavors”.

@Raza Ali: “@Sami Qazi pakore ki rehri ke liye best of luck nahin BAISAN ki zaroorst hoti hai...............rehri di madad karo te koi 1/2 kilo BAISAN atya karo)))”

@Irfan Aslam: “You won’t stop......work on your blog more. Your work should not end with job”.

@Mohsin Sayeed: “Ab kaunsi raah per chal paray aap”.

@Bilal Butt: “Change ur line. leave stupid media!”

@Ilmana Fasih: “Wish u all the best for future.. You’r a good photojournalist. Keep clicking and sharing nice pics”.

@Sadia Nawaz: “Why dear? You were doing very well so? Why to end? What next?”

@عطوفہ نجیب: “Awww. Good luck for future endeavours !”

@Haroon Janjua: “May you have a bright future ahead my friend”. 

@Najeeb Ur Rehman: “بھاء جی کدھرے ٹِک کے وی بیھ جاؤ" 

@Atif Agha: “well said!!”

@Akhtar Ali Khan:شیراز بھائی آپ نوجوان اور بہترین ورکنگ جرنلسٹس ہو اللہ تعالیٰ آپ کو اس سے بھی بہتر جگہ عطا کرے گا میری دعائیں آپ کے ساتھ ہیں اللہ آپ کو ہر میدان میں کامیابی عطا کرے آمین

@Shahzad Sarfraz: “N u joined???”

@Saeed Ibrahim: ویسے ایس اخبار نوں پڑھدا وی کوئی نئیں سی۔

@Fayyaz Hussain: “Good Shiraz.............”

@Heritage-Haryana Heritage-Haryana: “Dear Shiraz, I don't know Urdu but my father knows because he was educated at Lahore. Lot of people from districts of Eastern Punjab then used to study in various institutions at Lahore. How many Punjabi proverbs do you know or can collect such as 'ik sukh milya so dukh mukkay'?”

@Muhammad Aslam Gujjar: “Best of luck for future...”

@Bilal Dar: “but why ?”

@Tahir M Sundhu: “Chal koi gall nai. Hun jadd teek job nai mildi ghar bharjaee ji nu time dyo. Kujh nal nal creative kam vi kar lao. Hindi kahaniya te afsaniyan di translation karo te changa jeha praga chapwao. . . B”

@Nasir Mughal: “Kia hua janab?plz share”.

@Sana Sultan: “Congratulation, best of luck for the future.

i have also ended my journey with jehan, and seriously am in peace”.

@Riazul Haq: “Na kar. Ab? BBC?”

That conversation went on, but I took my leave and turned towards another gathering, where once again I could recognize only one friend @Abdul Qadir, who was being discussed and was quietly listening. As I moved in closer, taking a long hard sip of my drink of heaven, I heard @Tanveer Mazhar Hussain saying: “Abdul Qadir urf AQ is an eccentric and rather idiotic but none the less good-natured masseuse, who is a traveller and sometimes, (Sorry sorry sorry) All the time tells his friends outlandish tales of his days on the streets of Europe”.

I went to Demark by road

Did you hear it too  — with Abdul Qadir? 

Aqsa Ajmal: “Good photography”

@Arslan Iqbal Siddiqui: “Sounds like him”. 

@Tanveer Mazhar Hussain: “hahahaha…”

@Kamal Aziz: “He starts like do u know I went to Denmark by road hitchhiking n taking buses. First I went to QUETTA taftan border n then IRAN n ............. Do u know I also lost my wallet in Denmark........”

@Tanveer Mazhar Hussain: “And he ends it like this Can you believe it i almost traveled by road more then 12000,Km just to lose my wallet ...”

@Arslan Iqbal Siddiqui: “Seems like Sir Qadir is the same person still”.

@Abdul Qadir: “Guys !! Be happy. Try more, more…” 

@Rushna Khan: “hahahahahahahhahaahahahh”

@Kamal Aziz: “Its like he is reading a script everytime the same not even a single word different..............”

@Abdul Qadir: “Do u know I have been to Denmark by road hitchhiking n by taking bus............. First I went to quetta n from Taftan border I went to Iran...........”

@Kamal Aziz: “Tanveer Mazhar Hussain aisa status Laga kr tum Abdul Qadir ki Lena chah rhey ho Bht ghalat baat hai yaar ..........”

@Farrukh Mustafa: “Tanveer Mazhar Hussain lol thats really apt...and a classic shortest possible description for AQ. I appreciate the way you sensitively and deeply feel for your "close" friends”.

Maryam Maya: “Abdul Qadir hope we offered you a nice time even is translated in hours but I felt proud ti cook for you and wish you all the happiness and definitely Buhut Good luck!”

At this point I decided to budge in and put a shield in front of my friend, who was under continuous verbal attack: “One needs to do something to talk about it! AQ has every right to tell his tales of travel. Did he not tell you about his bicycle ride in a cold summer night?”

@Abdul Qadir: “From Graz to Leoben, Austria ..amazing memories from 2010”

Trying to divert the flow of the conversation I added: “The photo in this post is awesome! Who took it?”

Abdul Qadir: “@Jasmin or @Farrukh. One of them. I forget who exactly”

Raza Ali: “and of course it got treatment?....but nice work”

Fatima Torabi: “AQ...traveller...crazy...awesome repeated-story teller...boring adviser...who always makes his dearests zaye but his top quality is that he gets happy to amuse and make his buddies happy!! Like what's happening here”

When I saw this second shield for AQ, I decided to move on to join some other conversation. 

I took a look further and I saw @Kirsten Retsby. I moved towards, where she was standing with her friends and consuming my drink of heaven, casually moved closer and nodded a very unnoticeable greeting. Seeing the inquisitive look in my eyes Kisten said: “35 year anniversary with college girls — with Käthe Rosenberg and Marianne Bossen”.

The conversation continued, with @Top of Form

Käthe Rosenberg saying: “35 år som studenter og sikken en skøn dag i godt selskab. Tak for at I alle kom til Køge”

@Marianne Bossen: “Altså de unge damer er 35 år ikke?” 

@Kirsten Retsby: “Tak for fantastisk forplejning, Käthe. Dejligt du kunne samle så mange af os (35-årlige unge piger)”

@Johannes Hooge Pedersen: “Du ligner dig selv kathe som for 29aar siden,spistebfrokost med ss og ulla i februarni cape town.jeg bor nu i jhbg”.

The best thing about these parties is that everything is so organized. For example if you don’t want to say something, or you cannot say something, you could just show a thumbs-up to express your liking of the proceedings. So realizing my inability to understand Danish and meaning not to interrupt the re-union, I gave them a thumbs-up and moved on, wandering in the hall of social networking, looking for familiar faces and gulping bigger portions of my drink.

Then I saw @Rana Khan, who was telling @Saleem Ayub and 4 others that Emirates Airlines had imposed lifetime ban on Qadri.

He was saying: “He should be tried in Pakistan and internationally as well, for hijacking the plane and his followers, who travelled with him. I hope the cowards’ government should do that”.

I readily dropped a line: “The government in Pakistan has already done enough and is not capable of doing anything else, because you need people to make sensible decisions, but from this government of apes you cannot expect anything”.

Finishing my sentence I noticed that my glass was empty, so I moved away as swiftly as I had moved in to that conversation, looking for the source of my heavenly liquid.

I refilled my glass and doing the same 5 more times I wandered in the land of the socialites, stopping to listen-in on some conversations, taking part in them and then repeating the same procedure of locating other familiar faces.

There were more than 100 of my friends in that party that day and by the time that I finished my last drink, my mind had swollen due to the enormous amount of information I had taken in.

Outside it was already the morning of a new day; the day which would again bring me to a new party and a new opportunity to socialize. I put down my empty glass and decided to exit the party, before I would be sucked in to some new conversation, with someone, who might had just joined the party.

Before I could leave I again found a new message from the same familiarly unknown friend. I put my hand on the message, but then decided to leave it for the new day and a new beginning.

I left the party to go to sleep, to regain my energies and be fresh to wake-up once again and go to the party. Closing that door behind me, I tried to make solemn pledge to myself to quit this practice of everyday partying, but I know, as soon as I would get up I would be ready to re-enter the social web, because I’m addicted to it.