Midnight Musings

I feel like writing nothing but a load of crap. My mind is pretty much empty- I think I'm going to make blogging a nightly routine. It's 110 am and I'm lying in bed comforted by the convenience of posting entries from my phone. I really have nothing to say but there's an internal urge that is prodding me to continue writing. I'm completely blank. Freud termed what I'm doing right now as "free association". Maybe you could psychoanalyze my post eventually. Maybe you'll uncover facets of my subconscious and unconscious that I, myself, have been disconnected from. This is a good way to fall asleep as well.

Today I discovered my loyalty towards humanistic psychology. It's quite ironic because just till about a month ago, I believed that it was just a load of bull- abstract, subjective, idealistic, optimistic and very artificially constructed. I have always invested more faith into more scientific and objective schools of thought such as the biological and behavioral paradigms of understanding how and why people behave the way they do. To me, humanism was analogous to a fairy-tale that was written on a whim to please a child- unreal, irrational and often misleading. But then, very recently, I chanced upon the works of theorists such as Horney, Maslow, Kelly and Rogers. I began to read and study what all of these people said about humans and humanity in general, about how to deal with clients during therapy, about what sort of world view one should adopt when trying to understand the next person. Although many of the ideas that have been presented contain gaps and unexplainable black holes, the underlying message/concept is one that holds the most significance.


To be continued. the writer has suddenly experienced a indescribable need to fall asleep. She's not sure if she's still typing or not.

Okay I'm back; it's 449 pm- the next afternoon.

I'd like to expand on my previous attempts to introduce humanistic psychology to my blog. Here is Carl Rogers' theory on how humans function.

I love how this theory encompasses the beauty of human beings rather than portraying us as passive objects which inhale and exhale whatever we're fed with. However, there are a few things that I question or don't agree with which I will mention exclusively, later on. But adding on to my first point, I think that Rogers has taken a first step in to explaining why people experience dissonance, anxiety, low self-esteem, and a lack of worth amongst other negative affects. I can relate to his concept of incongruence; I think it's easy to understand how society, socialisation, environmentally and culturally imposed value sets can cause conflict between the real and ideal self. For example, on a personal level, I often question the legitimacy and the truth in religion - after all, it's merely a construct which can be used as a social regulator, a sort of comfort for the "soul", a belief to pacify and explain things that may be out of one's locus of control. The feeling of rebelling within myself regarding my faith is something that I have been constantly taught to shun from my mind. This constant reminder from my peers, parents, teachers etc has caused me to embed these ideas within myself although I might not agree with them .Thus, I may experience anxiety, a sense of infidelity whenever I DO question the existence of a god. Both ideas clash, giving birth to incongruence.

Rogers's also talks about how every human is innately good. Many people may not agree with this, and I can see why. I didn't either but after much reading and debates with myself, I have reached a conclusion. I agree that humans are innately good. They function and serve a purpose that is not to harm others around them or to spread viruses. Society has subjectively defined and labelled certain acts, thoughts, feelings, religions, and needs as being either "good" or "bad". Who is to say that premarital sex is wrong? Society. People from certain cultures and religions have been taught that it is sinful to engage in sexual practices with someone other than one's husband or wife. You might argue and say that it's wrong because it breeds negative emotions, causes social disruptions, dissolves family values, hurts feelings and encourages polygamy amongst other "vices"- but I ask you, how did these themes get categorized as "bad" in the first place? If it wasn't for certain TEACHINGS, socially CONSTRUCTED cultures, beliefs, all of the above would be neutral to the human mind. Perhaps we wouldn't have felt bad that our partner was sexually active with another person if we hadn't been TAUGHT to feel bad- it's very much like "you SHOULD feel bad if X happens because it's NATURAL." How can you say it's natural? Are innate tendencies involved in defining crime and theft as morally unfit? Thus, my interpretation of Rogers belief is that without society, we wouldn't KNOW what's good or bad- we'd merely be living our lives to satisfy OURSELVES: our thirst, our hunger, our survival. It may seem like an egocentric perspective, but it's not because the interaction of the self with external players cannot be ignored. In a Utopian society, I wouldn't gather food only for myself (my actualising tendency- my survival), but would help my neighbour to help him reach his. This wouldn't be because I'd be taught to attach positive or negative attributions to the act of helping someone, but because it'd be my instinctual response to someone's need. My altruism would be a part of my actualising tendency- my path to self actualisation.

I think as humans, we starve for social approval- what Rogers calls positive regard. I am absolutely in love with his ideas on this subject- I think it's the foundation of our existence in a way. We strive to function in a world that is not only made up of people who we KNOW love us, but also of those people who are in some way connected to us. We want people to love us for who we are- and we should because the way we are built, the things we do, the way we speak, the interests we hold are all central to our existence as humans- they make up the structure of  the way we define ourselves, learn to love ourselves and feel the best at. Rogers talks about the ideal and the real self. If we disparage the image and the characteristic of our real self and solidify ourselves in to yearning to be that IDEAL person- the person who people like BECAUSE  of certain things. There's a condition attached to being accepted and cared for that motivates one to change ones true self. This, in my opinion, isn't always done consciously. I may begin to watch a specific sport thinking that I actually want to watch it, but in reality, it's only because it's a way to bond with a new group of friends who are avid football fans. I will enjoy watching the games on television, but somewhere inside, I know that I'd rather be watching a fashion show on FTV.  The conscious attempts to change oneself are more lethal because they are the roots of incongruity= more suffering.

My absolute FAVOURITE  aspect of Rogers theory is his interpretation of a fully-functioning person. The five characteristics that define such a person are: 'openness to experience', 'creativity', 'organismic trust', 'living in the here-and-now' and 'freedom'.

I love how Rogers lays emphasis on how we should live in the present (not ignoring the existence of a past and a future). I think that everyone in todays world is too busy trying to reach goals rather than enjoying and savouring journeys and experiences. A romantic relationship doesn't have to be about getting married; it's about the feelings of mutual love, understanding, sharing of experience (good and bad), learning from mistakes and sharing a certain part of one's life with another person  that should be emphasized. We're too busy thinking about how many years we've been with a boyfriend or girlfriend, how many more years till he may propose, how many months till we buy a home - this shouldn't be the motivation that we feed on. Every conversation, every fight, every holiday, every morning breakfast at the table is a part of ones phenomenal  field- how you experience or perceive it is your truth, your reality. It's your way of progressing from one stage of life to another without even knowing which stage you're at. It's like having a bath in a relaxingly hot bath-tub: savor the feeling of the warmth penetrating your body- don't think about the time when the water will lose it's warmth causing you to refill it; think about how good it feels at THAT moment. I know this is a concept that doesn't sit well with people with conservative points of view. Many people may refute my point of view saying that it goes against certain religious and cultural values. Yes, I agree that it may not be applicable to every situation you encounter in life, but definitely can with the things that you feel are ethically acceptable - which settle with your concept of the self. So, maybe you think it's important that you only be with a person who you intend to marry- so be it. But you can apply Rogers' perspective in other facets of your life which don't conflict with it.

 In conclusion, I'd like to say: Be creative. Be free. You are an independent and free-willed creature. We all are. Be open to adaptation, experience and change. Value yourself, your decisions, your feelings, your abilities, your likes and dislikes - you are responsible for everything that you do on this earth. It is your duty to actively try to help yourself reach a point where you know that you have manipulated your full capacity: no regrets, only triumph and satisfaction with oneself. Trust yourself.



***I know I had earlier decided to write about the weaknesses of this theory but I've changed my mind. Later on, I'll dedicate a separate post to that topic.***

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]

Four Walled Sanctuary

I'm sitting outside in the driveway of my house and my usually peaceful neighborhood has been polluted with the sounds of bustling traffic, hurriedly anticipating car horns and petrifying ambulance and police car sirens. My mother decided to take a brave step and venture out to a near by grocery store to stock up on basic supplies such as milk, petrol for the car, bread etc. I think she's over reacting because I feel surprisingly calm- after-all, I do live in Pakistan. I think I, along with millions of other pakistani citizens, have slowly but eventually desensitized themselves to the unrest that has surrounded us for years now. It's not something that has happened consciously and actively, but is something very cancer-like: silent, vicious and intoxicating. The same feelings of ill exuberance do not hit me when I hear about a bomb blast ripping through my very own locality, or in this current situation, where a political party's leader's murder has caused unrest throughout the city- so much so, that there are reports coming in about motor vehicles and public transport carriages being burnt, shoot outs occurring city wide and dozens of people being harmed as I type this. But amidst all this unrest, I sit here in the semi permeable safety of the four boundary walls that stand before me.

My safety, and the safety of my loved ones is primary to my conscience- but what about the innumerable people who aren't as lucky? What about the lay man who has to take public transport in order to reach the sanctuary of HIS four walls? What if the bus that he encounters to board is one of the ill-fated ones that is attacked? What if he isn't able to make it home unharmed? And if he is...what conditions will ensue for his family and loved ones? What if he is the sole breadwinner of the clan? What if the he is a she- the mother of young children, the wife of a poor laborer, the sister of an orphan child...? Then what? This doesn't just apply to the underprivileged class of society, it's equally devastating to see a wealthy family lose a loved one or go through such misfortune. We're all humans after-all- we all function the same way. We love, we hurt, we grieve, we recover and try to stand back up on our feet the same way as every next individual. But it's sad that although we are good at empathizing with others and condemn acts of such brutality and inhumanity, it is our very own specie that is the cause of such evil in the world today.

Pakistan has gone through a lot in the past 60 odd years since partition- it's been a rocky road with glimmers of hope which eventually lose their zeal. It's a sad sight. You'd envision positive development and growth (all, economic, political and HUMAN) to take over as time progresses - perhaps the gradual alleviation of poverty, equal opportunities for all citizens, the reduction of political malpractice, an increase in homeland security and most importantly, an increase in quality education of the masses in all spheres. Is this too idealistic a country that one yearns for after 60+ years of independence? I don't think so. Pakistan, in my opinion, has one of the strongest potentials to be a first world country; we have the natural and human resources, we have the talent, we have the intelligence, to say the least- our problem is that we get sidelined by what I'd metaphorically like to call 'extra-academic affairs'. You know how there's always that one kid in class that the teacher has high hopes in but the kid is so distracted by social activities and perhaps his newfound lady-love that he doesn't operationalize his intellectual capacities to their zenith. Thus, instead of getting an A grade, he ends up with a C. Pakistan, in my opinion, is in a similar predicament. We're too sidelined by problems such as corruption, a lack of education, political infighting, 'terrorism' and fighting off decades worth of debt, to name a few, to actually focus primarily on the real issues at hand.

I consider myself to be a very patriotic person. I feel very strongly about my country and what people may say about it. I have to admit that it was the effect of the whole 'distance makes the heart fonder' bullshit that makes me feel this way today. Living abroad makes you realize the worth of something you previously hadn't valued as much; it makes you realize that all the small things about home leave the most lasting impressions on your heart. This is why I made up my mind to return to Pakistan after my studies so that I could serve as a positive contribution to local society in any way that I could instead of being a passive bystander who was 'all talk and no action'. But as days pass and the situation seemingly deteriorates, I shamefully find myself considering retracting my commitment. I wonder whether I'd like to raise a family in a such an unhealthy environment where every day is more precarious than the previous one, where bombs explode like fireworks, where one fears having to wait at traffic signals, where one feels the most at risk and unsafe in the presence of security personnel who are supposed to protect you, where the system feeds on bribery and corruption, where justice lies in the number and color of the currency in your pocket, where education is being upheaved by extremist religious values.....and every day is the funeral of at-least one person who had the misfortune of being at the wrong place at the wrong time.

I'm ashamed to be portraying such a negative image of my mother land. I really am. But sometimes, one has to accept ones' flaws instead of living in a fairyland. I want Pakistan to progress, I want us to prove everyone who is against us at this point in time wrong, I want us to be the underdog that rises to the top. But I'm scared. I'm fearful. Yet hopeful. I don't want it to reach a point where I have to choose between my country and the safety of my family.

Things seemed to have settled down a little on the streets outside. The wind seems to be trying to deliver a similar message as it softly brushes stray locks of hair off my face. Motherly. Peaceful. But then in the lapse of a second, I am able to hear the far off shrills of a racing ambulance. It's probably stuck in traffic as it tries to make it's way to the closest hospital. I wonder how badly injured the person inside it is. I wonder if he/she will survive. I wonder whether he/she is in pain. If so, how much? The four boundary walls of my house continue to stare down at me with resolute dedication to protect me. But I wonder, how long will this spell of sheer luck last? You never think that such things will happen to you. You're always that special one that God has promised go protect no matter what. But living in such times makes me question my confidence. It makes me wonder: When will my turn come?

I look towards the wall in front of me as if expecting a reply of some sort. Surprise surprise. The walls remain silent.

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]

Here and Now

I'm not sure how I'm feeling right now. theres a ph

Happy Second Anniversary

Happy two year anniversary to me.

April 22, 2009. I remember sitting in the Coach Canada bus as it slowly made its way out of the berri uqam bus terminal. I forced myself to take a mental snap shot for myself- an imaginary keepsake if you may. The snow was slushy and brown in some places, in other places it wasnt even present. Spring had freshly arrived. But in Montreal, you don't realise it's spring until atleast may. I had taken the 530 pm bus on purpose- it gave me a chance to spend my last day in my temporary city and say goodbye to it one last time. I had hoped that the su would set later that day so that I would be able to catch my last glimpses of sights and sounds I might never ever be able to experience again. It was one of the most emotional rides of my life (pun intended). I was lucky to have an empty seat next to me so I decided to sprawl myself in both seats and try to relax myself. I couldn't help but think of the year that had just passed by - the people I'd met, the lessons I'd learnt and wish id learnt, the mistakes I'd made, the good times with some of the most amazing people I'd gotten a chance to meet, the bitches I'd wished I'd never met....and the most amazing educational experience I'd ever gotten. I still remember crying silently wishing that I could turn back time And do everything again- the right way, this time. But I knew that I didn't have lady luck on my side.. Call it karma or call destiny..I call it fate. Fate that was hard to swallow- and still is- but someday..someday soon..I hope to digest it.

Two years later, I sit here writing this. It's taken me innumerable therapy sessions, a break up with an ex boyfriend and the support of some of the most amazing friends in the world to be at the place I am at right now. Considering how hung up I still am over fucking Canada. You probably think that none of them made a difference. But they have. In their small little capacities.

I made a lot of mistakes. I hurt a lot of people on the way. I've deposited and shredded friendships, broken the heart of a boy who worshipped me like no one probably ever will, fucked up my studies, reduced my professional credibility and most of all...lost myself in the process. The person I am today. In my opinion, isn't the person I was and am supposed to be. I consider identification of the problem step 1 of finding a solution. I don't know how I'm going to move on to step 2 but I know that there is a way- I just have to stick it out, feel the pain and move forward. It's been two years since I've been back in pakistan- that's no joke. And to still cringe at the sight, sound or smell of anything related to Canada is ridiculous. Its something I want to separate myself from; I thought cathartic writing should be my next step towards 'independence'.

My life in Pakistan is wonderful. I've met some amazingly amazing people- my best friends. People who love me for who I am no matter what I do or have done, parents who are there to support me through thick and thin- to protect me from all the negativity that may attack me, a university which sucks balls but still provides me with knowledge..I feel wanted and loved. I feel secure. And happy. I have a moderate sense of stability now. I've moved on from my previous shackled and turbulent relationship after a lot of shit. In relation to that, my only regret is that in the process I lost one of my best friends in the world- a boy I care about like crazy- its just that sometimes your craze is platonic more than anything else- and as much as you try, you can't force yourself to feel a certain way.

Here's to my 2nd anniversary. Happy anniversary Sara. Here's to fucking Canada out of your memory. Here's to moving forward.

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]

The Two of Them

My Brofriend. 

Brofriend.

My boyfriend.

Boyfriend

Two separate people. Separate entities. 

Fragile; please handle with care. 

Seek Apocalypse

Moderation is a phase
Starts, it does, filled with cloudiness
Mazes to meander, shoes to fill
Hill after hill do I clamber upon
Striving to reach that peak
Eyes wide shut, breath heavy
Eternity never seems to end.
Focus on that end, I placate
For everything has a conclusion

Self-Handicapped

Misty futures, goals left undefined
Confidence shAllow and twisted
Ideas convoluted, thoughts subjugated
Pressures mounting, expectations rising
A past left cluttered and unrepairable
History begins to repeat itself, emotions flurried
Fight to make it right, decay is inevitable
Thoughts polluted, motivations scarred
You know how to fix it, to twist it.
But do you really want to?

Locus of Control

I'm experiencing a sense of unconscionable panic right now. It's hard to explain. I've realized that I've become the sort of person who cannot handle things out of her locus of control: it needs to be in my hand.  But the problem is that even when I have that yearned control, I tend to take it for granted- a sort of self handicapping, so to speak. I fear becoming a failure in life due to this recently conceived personality flaw. People around me speak about the strong potential I have to be brilliant- and I know that this brilliance resides in me..somewhere..untouched...
Why is it untouched? Why hasn't it been exploited and used to it's zenith? When you have something, why don't you use it? When you have that control, why don't you exert it?  It's analogous to having the ability to see but choosing to walk around with your eyes closed. But I still wonder why this is so..and why is it something that's come about so recently? I was never like it- I was the go-getter, the proactive amazon...why now, when the time has come when I need it the most? Perhaps a sense of overconfidence and having been praised too much? Is it a method of regressing...?

 Whatever it is, it needs to stop.

Musings from the Sky

I feel poetic and exhilarated- in a world world external and public, yet internal and private: something that I can call my own; a little bubble with an ashtray grey with muddled thoughts- light and effervescent, enough to be blown away with a mere gust of air. Speaking to each other, pacifying their environment, my thoughts gently numb the erosion that has been corroding my mind. They softly brush together and intertwine their make - belief palms to push out the corruption that has long since been poisoning the territory of my sanity. Temporary as it may be, the escapist in me appreciates the vacation - I had hoped to find a sandy white beach outlined with green, umbrella-like palm trees, but the most I could get this time was only the infantile pleasure of resting these thoughts in my bed. A permanence in the temporary resonates within me as I realize that reality will catch up with me very soon. I feel her coming. The thoughts begin to tame themselves, the rust seems to be bringing back that feeling back with it once more. The bass keeps resounding. The beat keeps beating. 

is this week over yet?

I there was one thing that I could wish for, it would be to speed this seems-like-never-ending week up. It's STILL thursday. Ideally I would have been very happy, considering tomorrow is friday. But saturday is a school day. I've had a pretty productive week in terms of socialising. You thought i'd talk about personal growth and achieving concrete goals? Yeah, I had planned on that. But I missed my yoga class. So I took one with Mathira instead. After five minutes of “girls inhale deeply..be confident...stick your chests out...be sexy”, I realised that what I was being instructed to do was probably what landed Mathira her after-hours tv show host job. So I respecfully..silently...gracefully...stood up and walked away. I'm sorry but I'd prefer not to be sexy, Mathira. Also, wearing shorts over tights with 4 inch high boots kind of gave the fake-yoga away...

I spent most of my week doing something or the other related to aiesec. I'm pretty sad our chinese interns are leaving..i really bonded well with them. They were really nice, fun people. But like one of them told me at the farewell party, “some of us are just strangers who crossed paths. Maybe we can walk the same paths some day soon.” its always sad to see people who you get attached to, leave. You wonder whether you'll ever see them again in your lifetime...and even if you do, will the moment feel like it does right now? Will I be able to be the same way with them in 10 years? There are somethings you'll never know unless you actually experience them yourself. Anyways...the farewell party(s) were great. We chilled on the intern-house roof, obsessed over the camera, ordered food...it was fun. I hadn't hung out with many of the people there for a long time so it was great to meet everyone.

The winter season is over and it sucks. It means: oily skin, sweat, shooting deodorant sales (or shooting air freshner sales in many cases), tans...and ….a suffocating burst of lawn exhibitions. Nomi ansari had his opening today near do talwar..i wanted to go so I passed by only to see that it was closed for lunch...and there were 10 aunties screaming their lungs out at one of the organisers. Typical, I thought. This happened last year as well. I remember hearing stories of women physically FIGHTING over clothes. Really...? =s so anyways, I thought it was best that I came back at some other time when there wasn't as big a rush. But I hear his prints are good so i'll definitely go back to check them out.

School is so much better this semester. This week has been a little tiring because i've been so sleepy during classes. During my theories of lifespan and development class, we started a chapter on infancy and “babyhood”. I found it very awkward when my teacher opened the powerpoint...why?...on every slide there were ONLY pictures of babies making out. Say WHAT?! My teacher also pronounces sperm as “sprum”. Which reminds me that my friend's sister had a baby boy this monday. Was that related or am I weird? =s

wow. I think I have a quiz tomorrow. Yeah, this is how I motivate myself. Which reminds me that I made a motivational page on the back of the front cover of my school notebook: I made a list of all the things I will and will not do this semester. So whenever I feel like my motivation is slipping, i'll just flip to the first page, go through the list and,..hopefully...just hopefully, regain my focus.

so...i think it would be a good time to do JUST that, right now. Considering I have a management quiz in the morning and I don't feel like studying.

Study, sara...STUDY.

More later. :)

is this week over yet?

I there was one thing that I could wish for, it would be to speed this seems-like-never-ending week up. It's STILL thursday. Ideally I would have been very happy, considering tomorrow is friday. But saturday is a school day. I've had a pretty productive week in terms of socialising. You thought i'd talk about personal growth and achieving concrete goals? Yeah, I had planned on that. But I missed my yoga class. So I took one with Mathira instead. After five minutes of “girls inhale deeply..be confident...stick your chests out...be sexy”, I realised that what I was being instructed to do was probably what landed Mathira her after-hours tv show host job. So I respecfully..silently...gracefully...stood up and walked away. I'm sorry but I'd prefer not to be sexy, Mathira. Also, wearing shorts over tights with 4 inch high boots kind of gave the fake-yoga away...

I spent most of my week doing something or the other related to aiesec. I'm pretty sad our chinese interns are leaving..i really bonded well with them. They were really nice, fun people. But like one of them told me at the farewell party, “some of us are just strangers who crossed paths. Maybe we can walk the same paths some day soon.” its always sad to see people who you get attached to, leave. You wonder whether you'll ever see them again in your lifetime...and even if you do, will the moment feel like it does right now? Will I be able to be the same way with them in 10 years? There are somethings you'll never know unless you actually experience them yourself. Anyways...the farewell party(s) were great. We chilled on the intern-house roof, obsessed over the camera, ordered food...it was fun. I hadn't hung out with many of the people there for a long time so it was great to meet everyone.

The winter season is over and it sucks. It means: oily skin, sweat, shooting deodorant sales (or shooting air freshner sales in many cases), tans...and ….a suffocating burst of lawn exhibitions. Nomi ansari had his opening today near do talwar..i wanted to go so I passed by only to see that it was closed for lunch...and there were 10 aunties screaming their lungs out at one of the organisers. Typical, I thought. This happened last year as well. I remember hearing stories of women physically FIGHTING over clothes. Really...? =s so anyways, I thought it was best that I came back at some other time when there wasn't as big a rush. But I hear his prints are good so i'll definitely go back to check them out.

School is so much better this semester. This week has been a little tiring because i've been so sleepy during classes. During my theories of lifespan and development class, we started a chapter on infancy and “babyhood”. I found it very awkward when my teacher opened the powerpoint...why?...on every slide there were ONLY pictures of babies making out. Say WHAT?! My teacher also pronounces sperm as “sprum”. Which reminds me that my friend's sister had a baby boy this monday. Was that related or am I weird? =s

wow. I think I have a quiz tomorrow. Yeah, this is how I motivate myself. Which reminds me that I made a motivational page on the back of the front cover of my school notebook: I made a list of all the things I will and will not do this semester. So whenever I feel like my motivation is slipping, i'll just flip to the first page, go through the list and,..hopefully...just hopefully, regain my focus.

so...i think it would be a good time to do JUST that, right now. Considering I have a management quiz in the morning and I don't feel like studying.

Study, sara...STUDY.

More later. :)

Is this week over yet?

I there was one thing that I could wish for, it would be to speed this seems-like-never-ending week up. It's STILL thursday. Ideally I would have been very happy, considering tomorrow is friday. But saturday is a school day. I've had a pretty productive week in terms of socialising. You thought i'd talk about personal growth and achieving concrete goals? Yeah, I had planned on that. But I missed my yoga class. So I took one with Mathira instead. After five minutes of “girls inhale deeply..be confident...stick your chests out...be sexy”, I realised that what I was being instructed to do was probably what landed Mathira her after-hours tv show host job. So I respecfully..silently...gracefully...stood up and walked away. I'm sorry but I'd prefer not to be sexy, Mathira. Also, wearing shorts over tights with 4 inch high boots kind of gave the fake-yoga away...

I spent most of my week doing something or the other related to aiesec. I'm pretty sad our chinese interns are leaving..i really bonded well with them. They were really nice, fun people. But like one of them told me at the farewell party, “some of us are just strangers who crossed paths. Maybe we can walk the same paths some day soon.” its always sad to see people who you get attached to, leave. You wonder whether you'll ever see them again in your lifetime...and even if you do, will the moment feel like it does right now? Will I be able to be the same way with them in 10 years? There are somethings you'll never know unless you actually experience them yourself. Anyways...the farewell party(s) were great. We chilled on the intern-house roof, obsessed over the camera, ordered food...it was fun. I hadn't hung out with many of the people there for a long time so it was great to meet everyone.

The winter season is over and it sucks. It means: oily skin, sweat, shooting deodorant sales (or shooting air freshner sales in many cases), tans...and ….a suffocating burst of lawn exhibitions. Nomi ansari had his opening today near do talwar..i wanted to go so I passed by only to see that it was closed for lunch...and there were 10 aunties screaming their lungs out at one of the organisers. Typical, I thought. This happened last year as well. I remember hearing stories of women physically FIGHTING over clothes. Really...? =s so anyways, I thought it was best that I came back at some other time when there wasn't as big a rush. But I hear his prints are good so i'll definitely go back to check them out.

School is so much better this semester. This week has been a little tiring because i've been so sleepy during classes. During my theories of lifespan and development class, we started a chapter on infancy and “babyhood”. I found it very awkward when my teacher opened the powerpoint...why?...on every slide there were ONLY pictures of babies making out. Say WHAT?! My teacher also pronounces sperm as “sprum”. Which reminds me that my friend's sister had a baby boy this monday. Was that related or am I weird? =s

wow. I think I have a quiz tomorrow. Yeah, this is how I motivate myself. Which reminds me that I made a motivational page on the back of the front cover of my school notebook: I made a list of all the things I will and will not do this semester. So whenever I feel like my motivation is slipping, i'll just flip to the first page, go through the list and,..hopefully...just hopefully, regain my focus.

so...i think it would be a good time to do JUST that, right now. Considering I have a management quiz in the morning and I don't feel like studying.

ps: i took ogx candidates' interviews today. i faked a crying outburst/meltdown. i think i scandalised the guy. oh well. he has to learn how to handle a crying girl one day or the other right? 

Study, sara...STUDY.

More later. :)

Is this week over yet?

Black isn't a colour

Its attractive. Seems like it's calling out to me. It promises me solitude. Peace. A release from anxiety. Butterflies. Stars. Lush meadows. I know what it is. I've been there before. Not too many times, but enough to buckle under its pressure. As I caress it, I feel a sense of joy. I haven’t felt like this in a while now. I shouldn't, actually. Should I?

Black.

There are cars around me. It's a junction. Trucks. Trains. Motorbikes. Lorries. But they're all at a stand-still. I stand in the middle. Eyes closed. I feel people pushing past me- their rough selfish desires to protect themselves fill me with a sense of warmth. Something isn't right- I can feel it. I can sense the panic. Mothers scream out for their children- but they hear nothing in response. The clouds seem to be heavy. It's okay. It always is. I remain centered. This panic is temporary. Better things always make their way to you. But why are you not as sure this time?

Black.

I lie in my bed. Its cold outside. I'm sweating. As I stare above, my ceiling transforms itself into a black, endless pit. Its reassuring. It makes me feel safe. It opens endless opportunities. A world vast and untouched. Dreams. Aspirations. Love. Joy. Success. With my eyes closed, I reach my hand out above me in hope of grabbing anything I can get a hold of. My hand flails. It claws at empty space. Everything I'll ever want is at my fingertips. So tell me, why can't I have it all?

Black.

I let go. Like I always do. The balloon ascends with a surprised start. It probably doesn’t know I was going to let it go on such a whim. After all, I'd fought to get it. It was mine. Had been. As I look up, I see it flutter around, as if it were in a torture cell. I smile. It looks down at me. It probably understands my intentions. As if it were taking a dejected deep breathe, it looks upward. Contains itself. Let go? The redness of it's body loses its brightness. I feel nothing. I thought I would. It was meant to be temporary. It's done and over with. Move on. I nonchalantly flip my hair and look down to survey the space around me. Red. Like they say, there are plenty more fish in the sea. I smile as I bend to submerge my hand into this red sea. One down, infinity to go.

Black.

The spiral-stairs never seem to end. The height at which I am at seems daunting. I feel a sense of panic in my stomach. I close my eyes. It reaches my throat. If I look down, I'm sure I'll be sucked in. Suddenly, I feel someone nudge my back. My fear makes way for throbbing anger. I can't sit. I can't stand. The pit seems to have become bigger during this time. I miss my shiny, red balloon. Do you think it'll come back to me and rid me of my misery? Too late, says my internal parent. I sigh. He nudges me again- this time it's a stronger push. I take a step down. Gravity defines me. It fills my lungs. I can't breathe. He violently grabs my neck; squeezes it as tightly as he can. I remembered asking him to never let go of me. I was getting what I had asked for. I enjoy every second of it: the intolerable burning, the orgasmic tingling, the bruising pain, the hysteric gasps for fresh oxygen... I close my eyes. I let it happen.

I think, "Fuck this. It's a down-ward spiral. Everything will be okay. It always is."

But will it really?

Black. Out.

An extremeley interesting article from Psychology Today

Neuronarrative

Musings on the complicated business of thinking

by David DiSalvo

If You Want to Catch a Liar, Make Him Draw

Liars stumble when they can't verbalize their lies

Published on October 4, 2010

Researchers hypothesized that several tendencies would become evident in the scribbles and sketches of liars not found in those of non-liars. For instance, they suspected that liars, when asked to sketch out the particulars of a location where they hadn't really been to meet someone they hadn't really met, would provide less detail in their drawings. They also suspected that the drawing would seem less plausible overall, and would not include a depiction of the person they allegedly met.

They also hypothesized that non-liars would use a "shoulder-camera" perspective to draw the situation--a direct, line-of-sight view that previous research suggests is more indicative of truth telling. Liars, they suspected, would use an "overhead-camera" perspective, indicating a sense of detachment from the situation.

Subjects were given a "mission" that included going to a designated location and meeting a person with whom they would exchange information. In all, four different missions were conducted. The particulars of the missions were constructed such that about half of the participants would, when interviewed, be able to tell the truth about what happened, and half would have to lie (the researchers used a fabricated espionage theme to work this out--very clever).

During the interview, subjects were asked questions about their experience, as would happen in a normal interrogation, and also asked to draw the particulars of their experience. Results of the verbal responses could then be compared to the drawn responses to determine which method was more effective in identifying liars.

Here's what happened: No significant differences in level of detail were found between verbal and drawn statements, but the plausibility of truthful drawings was somewhat higher than deceptive drawings. A similar difference in plausibility was not evident between truthful and deceptive verbal statements.

More interestingly, significantly more truth tellers included the "agent" (other person in the situation) in their drawings than did liars (80% vs. 13%). In addition, significantly more truth tellers drew from a shoulder-camera view than liars, who by and large drew from an overhead view (53% vs. 19%). In verbal statements, more truth tellers also mentioned the agent than liars (53% vs. 19%).

Using the "sketching the agent" result alone, it was possible to identify 80% of the truth tellers and 87% of the liars--results superior to most traditional interview techniques.

The main reason drawing seems to be effective in identifying liars is that they have less time to work out the details. Someone who is telling the truth already has a visual image of where they were and what happened (even if it's not perfect, which of course it never is), but liars have to manufacture the details. It's easier to concoct something verbally than to first visualize and then create it on paper.


Copyright 2010 - David DiSalvo

Culture Amnesia

I often wonder how the plight of women in the 21st century has changed since pre-Islamic times. We talk about freedom and liberation, but at the end of the day, we're all still entangled in the prehistoric duel for equality. It's funny how double standards play such a pivotal role, by men and women alike, to justify their arguments. In the case of men, for example, it's considered to be a praiseworthy feat for a man to be able to attract numerous women- to have one partner is, in the western world, often considered to be something that is atypical. When television shows such as Jersey Shore which glamorize and idealize the "art" of one-night-stands and regarding women as sexual objects,  attract a total of 6.5 million viewers (record-smashing statistics, might I add), one wonders whether the this trend is one that we wish to instill in our future generations. And if you're going to argue and talk about how this is western "culture" and doesn't affect any other part of the world, I'd beg to differ. 

 I don't live in a western country; the norms and culture of my society are predominantly conservative – however, this traditional set up has not barraged the inflow of western philosophies and values from infiltrating into local society. Additionally, not to sound too hostile towards foreign culture, I would like to add that I do appreciate the positive aspects of some of the abundantly progressive ideas, innovations, values etc etc that the west has contributed to the rest of the world. Individuality, independence, organization, progression, science, freedom, and goal-orientation are all ideas and characteristics of the Western world which I respect and often wish my society had more of. I spent a year in Canada where I learnt more about "that part of the world's" values, and was lucky to have been exposed to some of the best experiences and opportunities I had ever come across. But then again, despite all these positive traits, I still believe that many of the core values of my own community are slowly being forgotten and in some cases ignored- something which I feel is extremely unfortunate. I remember being a little girl and experiencing butterflies going crazy with excitement in my stomach on Chaand Raat (the eve of Eid)- the whole house would be buzzing with people getting ready for the next day, whether it be in terms of clothes, food or house clean-ups. I'd beg my parents to take us out for Chaand Raat shopping, without thinking twice about suicide bombers possibly blowing up a shopping area or anything like that. But now, when I look back and remember all that, it seems like it's something from a lost era. This may be a sweeping generalization on my part, but it's the way I feel: We're starting to forget the significance of a day which is equivalent to Christmas for Christians; people (maybe from a certain class of society) pay more homage to foreign/non-Islamic events and holidays than they do to their own traditional dates. 

 You may call it globalization. I'd consider it globalization if the rest of the world celebrated OUR events/traditions as much as we do theirs. I mean, if it's GLOBAL, it should be all over the globe, right? Don't get me wrong. I think it's great to learn from different cultures and religions. You get a more balanced view of the world- you learn more. But at the cost of forgetting where you've come from? I'm not too sure about that. As I write this, I feel hypocritical. After all, the Eid I just described to you was MY Eid and that was how I felt about it. But despite this change of heart, the feeling of ownership and protectiveness for something that used to belong to me, and still does I should say, still exists. It's sad to see today's elitist youth forget their roots. I wish we still treasured what our parents have to offer. I wish we didn't have to follow foreign cultures just to feel like we're made of something. I wish we didn't have to be slaves of the west in the 21^st century. I wish we could walk around any country of the world and be proud to say that we, indeed, are Muslims residing in Pakistan, the land of the pure. Not the land of suicide bombers and fundamentalists. Why can't we go abroad and not be embarrassed of wearing our national dress, or covering our head if we want to? Why do we, instead, begin to adopt alien behaviours and begin to engage in acts which we know we may not be comfortable with? Is it that hard to fit in?

 I am a hypocrite. I accept it. But I'm very proud to say that I'm glad that I am one. Why? Because it took me to become a hypocrite to realize what was important to me, and where I stood. I don't mean to demean foreign cultures in any way. Like I said earlier, it's great to learn and experience the world around us. But nothing can supersede the home you've come from. 

Society

I often wonder how the plight of women in the 21st century has changed since pre-islamic times. We talk about freedom and liberation, but at the end of the day, we're all still entangled in the prehistoric duel for equality. It's funny how double standards play such a pivotal role, by men and women alike, to justify their arguments. In the case of men, for example, it's considered to be a praiseworthy feat for a man to be able to attract numerous women- to have one partner is, in the western world, often considered to be something that is atypical. When television shows such as Jersey Shore which glamorize and idealize the "art" of one-night-stands and regarding women as sexual objects,  attract a total of 6.5 million viewers (record-smashing statistics, might I add), one wonders whether the this trend is one that we wish to instill in our future generations. And if you're going to argue and talk about how this is western "culture" and doesn't effect any other part of the world, I WOULD  like to smack you. Lightly, but effectively. I don't live in the a western country, the norms and culture of my country are predominantly conservative- this traditional set up has not barraged the broadcasting of MTV and other such channels which 

It’s the Time to Say Goodbye

Good-byes are hard. I've finally managed to figure that out - after 21 years. It doesn't matter whether you part with a parent, friend, lover...or even a place. It's always hard. Think: tears, letters inundated with promises to keep in touch, good-bye presents, love letters, and heartfelt prayers, to name a few. However, in my opinion, the hardest part isn't the ACTUAL ACT leaving, but is the post-departure emotional baggage you carry. Oh my. What seem like millions of tons of the most pre-historic rocks plunked mercilessly on your back, indeed, show no mercy. This may seem to sound like a sweeping generalization, so I do concede that some are luckier than others in this department. Unfortunately, I wasn't one of those fortunate few. From that experience-I-wish-I-never-have-to-go-through-again, I finally understood what people meant when they said, "We need closure."

I finally understood.



I want to dedicate this post to a person who, despite the shit that was thrown at my face, stood by me through the good and the bad. Names aren't necessary. I don't think they ever are.


My mixed feelings hit me really hard; they don't make sense. Too many people have come up to me and, have literally, asked me what the fuck i'm doing in such a relationship...why did i ever even get into something like it? i honestly, to this day, don't have an answer. Blind love? Neediness? Support? Ease? Comfort? Emotions? I sometimes wonder what the point of all of it is: is it worth the emotional desecration; the conflicts, the lack of freedom and the attempts to break imposed bounds? I've always known myself to be a free soul; I don't like being told what to do- an issue with authority, if you may. But I've realised that when you're in a particular situation where constantly under a certain pressure, you adapt yourself to deal with it. In my case, I've, if it's politically correct to say, mis-adapted. I feel an aversion to relationships forming within me, a need to get out and control everything and everyone around me- a need to dominate. I think it's the ungrateful selfish bitch inside of me trying to overtake my life once again. I'd drowned her out of my consciousness for a long time; I'd learnt my lesson but now that I feel like I have control over a person- a ruthlessly whipped control- my id impulses return, stronger than ever. 


I think it's pretty unfair of me to be communicating such a negative picture of my relationship. To be honest, despite the shit- the anger, the fights, the clinginess etc- I honestly don't think someone will ever do justice to the love I have received in these past 2 years. Selfless love. Sacrificing love. Incomparable to a great extent. I feel like a princess. I love it. That's my selfish side speaking. But don't get me wrong, I love him. The question is, in what capacity? As the best friend I've always known him to be, or as the boyfriend who has been the highlight of my life for the past 2 years?  That's pretty much the crux of the dilemma I've been facing for a while now. I'm a pussy when it comes to break ups. I think we've had multiple break ups till now- but there's always that argument and that annoyingly strong attachment that I have for him that doesn't let me run very far.  The decision is something that is smack in my face; implementation is a sucker. If I could have it my way, I'd turn back time- go back to Toronto/Montreal and undo every little mistake I made that has led me to be sitting here writing a weirdly confused blog entry. A little too late, yeah? 


Long distance can be a bitch. But I've always felt like I would do a good job at it- and I have. And I've only done it because I love him (friend or boyfriend?). But now I'm at a point where I'm not sure if I can do this any longer. I crave something new- i crave to explore and discover myself and the situation that I am right now doesn't permit me to do that wholeheartedly. I need to broaden my horizons, find myself- I'm too young to be tied down with something I know doesn't have a future. I need to learn more about the world around me and the reconnect with people who I've cut off from my life because of him. It's unhealthy. I miss my best friends. I miss my life outside a relationship. I miss being 16. 


My mind's made up. I know what to do. I know it's going to hurt you, but I think I've hurt you  enough. It's time to stop this. It's time to say goodbye.



 

It's the Time to Say Goodbye

Good-byes are hard. I've finally managed to figure that out - after 21 years. It doesn't matter whether you part with a parent, friend, lover...or even a place. It's always hard. Think: tears, letters inundated with promises to keep in touch, good-bye presents, love letters, and heartfelt prayers to name a few. However, in my opinion, the hardest part isn't the ACTUAL ACT of the parting, but is the post-departure emotional baggage you carry . Oh my. What seem like millions of tons of the most pre-historic rocks perched

The Importance of Reasons.

When I was little, I didn't know what psychology was.  I didn't even know something called "psychology" existed. Little did I know that it was incorporated into my daily life. There were times I'd get upset when my brother called me fat, when I'd use convincing tactics on my mother to buy me my that beautiful, blue-eyed Barbie perched on a shelf at the toy store and the times I would go the local library to read the "these-aren't-for-kids-your-age-books" behind my parents' back. I never thought that such small things could have a long lasting effect on my personality or the way I would look at the world when I came of age. The more I delve into the subject of studying human behaviour, the more I realise that every little event that takes place in your life (whether you're a 6-month old baby or a 60-year old veteran), somehow or the other, has an impact on you and the way you behave, analyse and react to everything around you.  This is why I'm a staunch believer in the clichéd saying, "Everything happens for a reason". The connotation that I personally derive from it isn't in reference to worldly events, but is with respect to individual differences. So here's an example.

I started working somewhere a couple of years ago, where I met this boy (let's call him X). X was really out-going and fun...but a little annoying. Actually, let's get real. He made me want to rip my brains out. And I wasn't the only one who felt this way. Despite his hit-the-roof confidence, X had a queer side. He'd gossip about people in a menacing way, narrate odd stories about himself having tea with the Queen of England, and spread false rumours about himself engaging in sexual acts with other colleagues, to list a few. Unfortunately, when it came to X, my patience was nil - and I let that show. Eventually, not only was X left ostracised, but was also the guy no one wanted to befriend. The outcast, to sum it up. A month after his social exclusion, I heard that X had resigned from his post. As shameful as it is to admit, the truth was that I was happy. Ecstatic, actually. However, it was months before I found out that not only was X from a broken home, but had also been diagnosed with Bi-Polar Disorder several years earlier. It was then that everything fell into place.

While I don't think that it is humanly possible to be perfect, I do believe that it is possible to give people chances...to analyse others before you judge them...to put yourself into the other person's shoes before prompting attitudes and conclusions, or even worse, behaviours, to get the better of you. We can only narrate our life stories and understand where we're coming from, but it's harder to do so for a stranger we meet on the bus or at school. If a person behaves a certain way, whether it's following or rebelling against the norm, there's always a reason for it. It may not be a psychological disorder, per say, but at the end of the day, we are all products of our experiences and encounters.

That's the beauty of psychology- it's real, it's never-ending and it's unique to each individual.