Wednesday, June 29, 2005

Cold Turkey

Yesterday, when I was unable to access most websites, I assumed, as WorldCall customers tend to do, that it was the fault of our service provider. Unfortunately, I'm not a fan of sitting down and reading newspapers, I prefer to get my news online. The trouble was that I could not access any websites at all, hence I was cut off from the world and had little to no idea why.

Now that most ISPs have shifted to their backups, I am able to access all blogs and for some odd reason flickr as well. I had images of what would happen if our underwater link to the lovely world of all things cyber were to be damaged, and they included visions of Mushy and Co taking a couple of engineers down to visit the briny blue depths in a bubble-like craft that the Pakistanis got for free along with their F-16s, shrewd bargainers that we are. I also had expectations that every chatting-addicted youth would be running around screaming "OMG! A/S/L?! A... S... L?!?!?!?!" like one of those drug addicts you see muttering to themselves. I have since come to the conclusion that my imagination must be immediately caught and shot.

The good thing about any disaster is the number of people you get to meet in its duration that you would otherwise not get to meet. Worldcall has a modest little chatroom which I would normally never have bothered to frequent except for recently, when nothing else was really working at all. It's quite interesting how you can have a half sensible conversation with people online when you are not required to reveal your gender, thus inviting that unavoidable barrage of "fraandship" requests.

The good news amongst this madness, for those who are interested, is that my passport has reached me safe and sound and the VISA process begins. Additionally, did I mention I love my university? Well I do now, ever since I found out I get a substantial discount for travelling via PIA if I'm a student here.

Misha at Wednesday, June 29, 2005

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Monday, June 27, 2005

Bootilicious!


bootilicious!
Originally uploaded by Mishaone.

Misha at Monday, June 27, 2005

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Sunday, June 26, 2005

the mundanity of death

I just saw a movie called American Psycho. The yuppie protagonist murders around twenty people on screen and no reaction. The yuppie then kills a homeless man and stamps to death his little barking Yorkshire Terrier and I'm looking away. The protagonist, in his delusional state near the end, sees a stray kitten at his feet outside and ATM and then hallucinates that the ATM Machine's screen says "Feed me the cat" and picks up the cat to stuff it into the ATM slot and I'm cringing.

I'm confused and mildly alarmed now. Why is it not as cringeworthy to see a human being murdered onscreen as it is to see a puppy or kitten bite the dust? One may say that we see dead bodies on the news and voilence in movies have desensitizes me. However, to that I can only say that like most Karachiites, I've seen more real corpses of animals than human beings so technically, I should be used to dead animals and the sight of a dead human should horrify me.

This is disturbing.

Misha at Sunday, June 26, 2005

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Work Ethic?

A few days ago, I was treated to a work ethic very different from my own. A friend who's recently graduated and went to work for a newspaper in the Marketing Dept informed me that he was quitting in a few weeks because he just wasn't getting the kind of job satisfaction from running around marketing the paper anymore and wanted to try to get a position in the media field where he could be a bit more creative on the job. He also confided that since he was a sociable young man, good with handling PR, and a hard worker, his boss wanted him to stay on. My immediate reaction was to tell him to capitalize on the fact that he was a valued employee and agree to stay for an increase in salary, otherwise quit with a clear conscience. Had I been in his place, I would have done just that and squashed any job dissatisfaction with more money and stayed on. He, however, was not about the money and was willing to accept a job that would pay him less or even work free as he was doing with an up and coming band, just as long as he could get some satisfaction out of his day's work. The attitude threw me off balance, to be honest, because in the cutthroat world of potential employmnt, where you may well be competing against good friends for the same job, I had figured an attitude like that didn't really exist. To me, work is undoubtably work, not fun. The minute you get paid for doing what you love and the cumpulsion factor sets in, it immediately stops being fun and turns into a chore, which is why I figure, even if you don't like the job, you have to do it to earn a decent wage. That's just what growing up and being responsible is about: working when you don't want to just to see a smile on someone's face when you buy them something they really wanted with your money.

Misha at Sunday, June 26, 2005

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Saturday, June 25, 2005

Supergirl


Supergirl
Originally uploaded by Mishaone.
When I was around ten or eleven, my grandmother, may her soul rest in peace, would buy us weekly videos to watch when we came over for the weekend. One weekend, she gave me a movie released in 1984 called Supergirl, probably figuring a strong female role model would probably be healthy for us. Back then, as I watched the movie, I was entranced by the girl who could fly and while I didn't really get the many references to Superman, Supergirl's cousin, I did thoroughly enjoy the movie as one can only do when one is ten and unjaded by having witnessed horrors such as White Chicks. Alright, I'm joking, I wouldn't be caught dead watching White Chicks. ;)

Fast forward more than a decade later and the blessed uploaders of the Worldcall FTP server decided to rip and upload a DVD of the now Cult Classic, Supergirl. With great glee, but the voice of caution warning me that to get ones hopes up about still enjoying a movie you thought was brilliant at ten was to set yourself up for disappointment. I'm pleased to tell you that I still love this movie as much as I did then.

From the opening credits, which seemed pretty impressive for the early 1980's, I was hooked. I later read that the opening sequence cost the studio a cool million dollars, which was a pretty penny back then. Futuristic is how I would describe the opening credits, much more than what one would expect from the special effects of that time period.

Kara aka Supergirl, is a flighty young girl living in a part of the exploded Krypton that survived the destruction that followed Superman's own hasty send off from the planet. Their little haven is powered by four power supplies, one of which is accidentally lost to the deep reaches of space by young Kara. She then decided that it is her responsibility to go retrieve the energy source because the lack of it would mean a slow death for all the surviving Kryptonians. Once she reaches Earth and finds how her Krytonian DNA makes her able to crush rocks with a bit of pressure and defy gravity, she takes off on what is almost literally a gorgeously choreograophed flight of fancy. This is the criminally unknown Flying Ballet sequence which ranks very high on my personal favorite on screen moments.

Next, I must rave about the score, just about every other prson who's seen it probably has. Had the movie not been chopped up by the studio that eventually released it, the soundtrack would be properly apprciated as John Williams' score for Superman was and still is.

Casting, as always, is essential and here the entire cast is almost picture perfect. Helen Slater as Supergirl, however, is absolutely spot on. Most blondes playing innocent get on my nerves because when you think of a blonde actress, innocent isn't exactly your first impression. Miss Slater, however, is the absolute personification of childlike purity and innocence and I defy anyone who has seen this movie to not like her. I only wonder why she disappeared from hollywood. Someone who can turn in a performance like that at nineteen should surely have stuck around and saved us from the likes of Tara Reid and Brook Sheilds. Plus, as pointed out by a friend, "she's just so hot!".

What I liked most about this movie, however, was that both on both sides of the equation, good and evil, there are strong, intelligent women. There is no male to turn to and the difference in the way Kara and Selena, the power hungry sorceress, differ with regard to men is how they treat them. The most prolific male character is Ethan, a rather dim but dishy carpenter who becomes a bone of contention between the two women. One of my favorite scenes for pure, delicious wickedness is when Selena has Ethan under her spell and torments the captured Kara by having a fine old makeout session with Ethan before sending her off to rot for eternity in the Phantom Zone with that horrible image of betrayal to haunt her for all eternity, bwahahaha!

It seems I've rambled on quite a bit, but that's only because I'm so happy to have found a childhood favorite that turnes out to be an adulthood faviorite as well. Don't believe me? Check out other reviews by people who have seen the movie at IMDB.

Misha at Saturday, June 25, 2005

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Batman Begins!


Batman Begins!
Originally uploaded by Mishaone.
I suppose I'll start off by praising Christopher Nolan for getting the movie right. I've never been much of a Batman fan, but I enjoyed this movie and I think it's safe to say that the woefully mishandled Batman franchise is on its way to being restored.

The movie, overall, is great. Just the right blend of humour, darkness and history to keep the movie going and the viewers interested. The casting, I'm happy to say, was fantastic. I had my doubts about Christian Bale as Batman, but he pulls off both billionarie playboy Bruce Wayne as well as the iconic Batman with equal ease... except for the voice. Now I agree with the fact that a superhero has to alter his voice, especially if he hopes to strike fear into the hearts of the criminal element, but the low, raspy, overdone voice used by Bale as the caped crusader breaks the spell on several occasions. Did nobody else notice this while shooting? Did Nolan not bother to pull the actor aside and tell him that less is more?

Aside from that, I was a bit worried, I'll admit, about Katie Holmes. Everything about her screamed teenager to me, and I was half expecting to be looking out for Dawson to pop in from the corner during the movie. However, she does a pretty good job, I must admit.

My personal favorites are Cillian Murphy and Michael Caine. Both are very enjoyable, especially since Michael Caine lapses back into his cockney accent, so rarely called for in his movies.

I have, of course, saved the best bit for last: the Batmobile! Te Batmobile in this version is the single coolest vehicle I have ever seen in my life, a combination of a monster truck and a tank that can do 100 MPR and possibly faster. Now THAT would come in truly handy when you're stuck in a traffic jam! :)

All in all, a very good movie, although I doubt I'd be watching more than once, but a great step towards getting the Batman franchise back it used to be: right below the Superman franchise. :P (Abid, are you listening?)

Misha at Saturday, June 25, 2005

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The worst of humanity

I've seen a man pick up a flat stone, the kind with the sharpish edges, take aim and fire it right at a stray dog that had the unfortunate inclination to walk through the same small street that the man had. The dog let out a bloodcurdling whine and ran as fast as he could through a barbed wire fence cutting into his ribs, trying to escape the random cruelty of a man.

I have seen a man beat his wife, terrify his children and physically attack his sisters to get money out of them. I have also seen the man weep the next morning and swear he will give up the booze forever. I have seen a little girl afraid to sleep at night, wondering if she will still have two whole parents the next morning. It's not a pretty sight to observe, but I would imagine it would be harder still to live with it every day for the rest of your life. My prayers go out to all those kids, always.

I have also seen male servants feel up both female and male children and I have seen them hastily stuff their business back where it belongs when they see me watching. I have seen myself saying nothing, ever.

I've seen too much. I've seen it all.

Misha at Saturday, June 25, 2005

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Friday, June 24, 2005

Odds and Ends

Apparently, Huma was right: Eating just before sleeping can lead to the freakiest dreams. The latest involved getting into IBA without even applying and coming home to find authority figures who have chopped off their own hands.
At times I amaze even myself with the level of crap I write, and the last Media class was no different. In a class excercise, we were asked to write down, without stopping, anything that poped into our heads about rain (it had rained that day). My submitted crapfest:
Rain is a bunch of melted snowflakes falling from the sky.
Rain in Karachi is a double edged sword. It brings with it both relief from the
heat as well as clogged roads and general inconvenience. Rain, rain, go
away.Rain is probably the heavenly equivalent of sewage or something, flushed
into our world, the gutter to angels. Rain is also a stupid topic to write about.
Perhaps this is a quiz?
I recieved a B+ for thinking outside the box. Next class: a screening of Prisoner of Azkaban, bring your own popcorn!

Misha at Friday, June 24, 2005

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Wednesday, June 22, 2005

Oven-like

When stuck in a heat wave so intense, it actually seems to make the air around you denser, one must look for the good in order to not go stir crazy from sitting in an air conditioned room all day.

First of all, a miraculous event has occured: my cat, who is my rival in anti-social behaviour, actually stood outside my room for a half hour, rubbing up against anyone who would pass by in the hopes that someone would let him in. When he finally did get in, I could swear he was almost sweating through his fur, which is a physical impossibility of course, but it just goes to show how hot it is.

Second, you can always indulge in a bit of heat snobbery, which is a bit like that quiz show "the weakest link", but more of a "the least hot city" where you can snub friends in other cities around the world for the dubious honor being crowned 'the idiot who lives in the hottest city on earth'. I can almost hear Anne Robinson snottily declaring "You are the least hot city. Goodbye." So far, New York and Lahore remain defeated in the temperature wars, and if this keeps up, I'm sure we could give some remote city-like area in the middle of the Sahara a run for their money.

A slight shower broke up the heat wave a couple of days ago, but it seems to have only incensed the sun (according to Aman). All that is left to cause us to mass revolt and start looting the stores is for KESC to have another of its usual power failures or loadshedding that lasts for hours.

Misha at Wednesday, June 22, 2005

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Tuesday, June 21, 2005

Utterly Dramatic Parental Woes

According to parents, sending me alone to Dubai may result in one or more of the following scenarios:

A) Misha is deposited at Jinnah Int'l by family who stays to watch for an hour and a half after she walks in to make sure she goes to the right counters and safely makes it to the departure lounge. Misha will then make it to the plane and be taken to Dubai. Once the plane lands and passengers get disembark and make their way to the VISA counter, for no reason the people checking the passports and VISAs insist that Misha is a troublemaker and should not be allowed to leave the airport and detain her. Misha, who apparently does not speak and when she does, goes unheard, is detained at the airport and forced to live a Tom Hanks in The Terminal-esque existence in the Dubai Int'l Airport until family members come to Dubai to extract her from the situation.

B) Misha makes it safely to relatives' place in Dubai from the Airport and insists on wandering off right away. Apparently Misha is an idiot who forgets most of her cash at home and is left stranded in the City Centre with no money and no ideas. Relatives do not notice that she is not home for dinner and Misha is stuck at the City Centre to live off artificial plants and discarded souvenier hats.

C) Misha decides to spend all her money on a thoroughly useless impulse buy and returns home only to be ejected from it as soon as she opens up her suitcase and extracts her new "really cool skateboard" and "kickass new lavalamp collection".

D) Misha goes on the desert Safari only to wander off in disgust when the foriegners start mooning over the "gorgeous eyelashes" of the camels and wanders upon an oasis in the desert where she is unable to escape from due to having a very limited Arabic vocabulary, consisting only of "Hazaa!", "al-haraami" and "la".

I suppose all parents suffer from lapses in logic and an overflaring of the imagination when it comes to sending your firstborn off to a foriegn country for the first time.

Misha at Tuesday, June 21, 2005

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Monday, June 20, 2005

Semi-Charmed Life

It's hard to take yourself seriously if you realize that everything you have ever managed to achieve in your short life has been purely on the basis of luck, with not a whisper of hard work or actual effort to be seen. A prime example: today was my midterm and I had procrastinated beginning studying at all till this morning when my paper was at two in the afternoon. I played Age of Empires and Monopoly late into the night, then went to bed and woke up at eleven, which was when I began to go through the slides for the first time. Once done with this, I had a leisurely bath and hauled myself off to the university to give my midterm, realizing full well that I had not studies at all and flunking said midterm would be all on my own head. Once there, I passed by the notice board which had the most beautiful combination of words since Sidrah's last bit of poetry: "The ALP midterm has been rescheduled on Tuesday the 21st of July".

What happens when the luck finally runs out? I wouldn't want to know.

Misha at Monday, June 20, 2005

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Saturday, June 18, 2005

Security

We're such a bunch of IT posers. :) Recently, having had my 3-day leave from the university run out, I had to attend my usual classes again. Since most of my "on-the-go" materials such as my notebook, flash drive, various snacks, cell phone, writing tools, identification cards and so on were still in large black bag with the PDC '05 logo on it, I decided to just stuff an additional book in there and get going to the university. Not to be outdone, I noticed several other students flashing the technological equivalent of "bling-bling" aka the PDC bags around the university as well.

I must admit there were times during the conference that I was bored stiff, either due to a miscalculation about the contents of a particular seminar or a lecturer who seemed to pause for an eternity every three words and follow up with an "umm". However, I learned a lot about a favorite subject amongst Pakistani amateur IT-enthusiasts (myself included by definition, of course): hacking. Of course the seminars were given politically correct, euphemistic titles like "Secure Code: Threats and Counter Measures" and "Web Development Security Fundamentals" but that didn't fool enthusiasts and curious onlookers alike from sitting in on each of these sessions to get a better concept of "hacking".

The thing about hacking is that, as I sat and watched these security professionals at work demonstrating some common techniques for hacking and how to prevent them, I thought about how many of us know about hacking per se, but when it comes right down to it, we have no idea how its done on a professional level. Sure, we've all tried to hack the hotmail account of someone who crossed us and possibly gave up after a few attempts and contacted someone we had heard from a friend of a friend that was "a hacker", but had no idea how you could hack into a professional website to gain unlawful entry or steal information stored within a database. For obvious reasons, I'll not go into the demonstrations shown to us, but suffice it to say, I walked out of there a great deal wiser and with a whole new respect for the ingenuity of someone who takes hacking seriously. After the demonstrations were done that had us all smiling and clapping enthusiastically, the lecturers informed us about some basic security features and practices that can be used to avoid the more common pitfalls of web security. This was surprisingly informative and I got around to wondering why it is that a Computer Science degree in Pakistan incorporates odds and ends like Pakistan Studies, Islamiat and Statistics and dedicate not a single course to basic practices to secure your software or website?

For my final semester's CS project, my group had created a web-based application. I used to think that once we got it up and running, tested for bugs and submitted a report on it, we were finished and it was ready to possibly even be deployed on the Internet. At the time, we did not give security a single thought, nor were we questioned on security during our VIVA. I'm positive most of my fellow students also take security just as seriously as we do, which would mean that if these kids are the future of the IT industry in Pakistan, they have little to no training about securing their applications from outside attacks. Is this really the way to go when educating the coders and software house owners of tomorrow?

Misha at Saturday, June 18, 2005

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Monday, June 13, 2005

PDC 2005 - Day 1

Disclaimer: This is a long and rambling post, quite likely to bore the hell out of you. You have been warned.


Why the excitement and blow by blow account? It's my first techie-conference and promises to be an interesting experience. According to the itinerary in the backpack of goodies I received, all attendees were asked to be at the venue (Pearl Continental) between 8:15 and 8:45 am, an ungodly hour, if I do say so myself, but the rules made it clear that if you wanted to be let in, you would have to arrive within this time limit and be seated. Not one to miss a single day of the event that I so happily got a 3 day leave from the university for, I arrived at 8:30 on the dot, to be greeted by a multitude of cars honking at each other and fellow techies arriving with their cards and microsoft baggies. Beaming at people for no reason, which may have been the reason nobody sat right next to me in the hall, I made my way to the single metal detector and took my place amongst the dozens clamoring to get in. Being a girl has a great effect on shareef men. It's like you have an invisible force field around you and everyone keeps several inches space and lets you pass ahead of them in return for a sweet "thank you!" as opposed to my poor friend who had to fight his way through the other sweaty males looking to enter the venue as soon as possible.

Once inside, we followed the wave of people with identical Microsoft bags into Ballroom A, where we were seated, oddly, almost squarely behind a large pillar. Wondering how anyone got any ballroom dancing done in a ballroom with large and very hard pillars in the middle, I craned my neck and found, to my delight, that I could still see the table with the five empty chairs and the several projector screens set up. One of the screens displayed a mostly empty auditorium with blue chairs that I later learned was the LUMS auditorium. LUMS students were watching the sessions live from Lahore but not too many of them had actually bothered to turn up yet due to the aforementioned ungodliness of the hour. Upon consulation of the itinerary, I discovered that we were waiting for the Opening/Keynote Session. This seemed to involve a great many special guests who had not turned up as yet because the five chairs and podium remained empty, while one of the screens displayed the LUMS students slowly filing into their auditorium. While we waited, we were treated to a mindnumbing number of repetitions of an advertisement Microsoft seemed to think was absolutely worth watching many, many times. I'm afraid I'll be hearing the opening lines, "We are all made of code. This code does not tell us what we are, but what we could be!" in my nightmares for some time to come due to the endless reptetions we were mercilessly subjected to.


After a long wait it seemed all the special guests had arrived (half an hour late) and we could begin. Onto the podium came Rahat Kazmi, a complete non-techie who had no idea what he or anyone else seemed to be here for. As the master of ceremonies, he announced in each of the five people seated at the "special guests table" with some vague references that completely flew over the heads of all present. First up the Manager of Microsoft Pakistan, Mr. Jawwad Rehman came up to enlighten us about the effort (and money) Microsoft was putting into Pakistan and developing us poor unfortunate people. That being done, the CEO of NADRA was called up, a Brigadier by rank, but all too obviously not someone who was comfortable with making presentations. His slides were full of bullet points such as "Alhamdlillah, we have had much success with this project" and halfway through, he seemed to lose control of his slides and had to summon two technical people to assist him, at which point he let reel the one liner that would (in my friend's opinion) ensure he was never asked to speak at the PDC again: "I hope this laptop isn't made by Microsoft". Next up, a dynamic young speaker called Rafal who was (as everyone would constantly remind us) in great demand in Pakistan and abroad as a speaker. To me, the man's endearing ability to completely (at times almost literally) throw himself into his speech and his voice reminded me of Mr. Bean. However, once you get used to Mr. Rafal Lukaweicki's mannerisms and enthusiasm, he is a very good speaker and knows what he's talking about. Next up, Mr. Khwaja, an extremely shy banker type who told us rambling tales from 1971 to today's scenario and would nervously lean into the mic as he laughed at his little jokes, which would cause those of us catching a bit of shut-eye to start, alarmed at the odd sound. Blessedly, at last Mr. Rahat Kazmi reappeared and announced that we owed the fifth panelist a vote of thanks for his choosing not to speak at this point (appreciative laughter all around) and that we would get to the presenting of plaques. The only memorable thing here was when little Arfa Karim, the youngest Microsoft Certified Professional in the world was called up to receive her plaque and the applause brought the house down.


Next up was the 15 minute break for tea (cold), biscuits and cake (I hate those weird multicolored raising things in cakes), after which we were given the option to go to whichever session out of the four that would be going on simultaneously. We decided to take it slow and went in for Motion - Helping Business Customers Understand the Value of Service Orientation by Mr. Arvindra Sehmi. All I can say is that I have no idea what he said or what he was trying to tell us, but at the end of it, I would have sold my soul to have him stop already and let us break for lunch. Muted snatches of thunderous applause from the next hall convinced us that Rafal (Mr. Bean) had let his session off on time and they were now enjoying lunch as we sat here listening to this man go on and on. At last, at the urgent hand gestures from a volunteer, Mr. Sehmi let us off for lunch.


Lunch was an interesting affair. Expecting some really good food a la PC's kitchens, I was not disappointed, albeit it was odd to have near two thousand IT professionals and students standing up and eating due to a lack of any seating whatsoever was quite odd. That, however, did not stop them from coming up with ingenious solutions (it's what we do) to get both hands free and eat in peace.


Once done, we made our way back to Ballroom A for the next session: The Future of IT by Nasser Ghazi, the CEO of Multinet. The speaker had obviously done his research but halfway through the lecture, pitch dark came over the hall. KESC does it again. Once the generators were turned on, the festivities resumed, followed by a tea break of (unrealistically) 15 minutes. Having had enough of lines and security checks for one day, we bid the PC adieu till tomorrow and left before the last session of the day.

Misha at Monday, June 13, 2005

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Saturday, June 11, 2005

Freedom!

When you can do nothing else and life is dragging by, there's a certain theraputic pleasure to be had in crossing off days in a calendar. Unfortunately, the digital variety does not offer any "cross off days like a prisoner" options so one has to improvise. Is it any wonder then, that I am rejoicing at the idea of a five day hiatus from my university? Weekend's coming up in which I must study for a math midterm and following that, three days of the Microsoft Pakistan Developers Conference 2005, which should be interesting since I've never been. On one of these three days, though, I must ditch the first half of the PDC to have my passport made, which should be an interesting experience. It seems just as I get around to having the usual documents indicating my nationality made, the government decides they've made the whole procedure far too easy and toughens it up a notch, much like the sudden descision to have all ID cards collected from the Awami Markaz instead of the local offices.

Anyhow, the lack of anything but classes for 12 hours a day the past week have made me a bad blogger, with nothing interesting to write about, but give it some time. One of these days, I shall have something a little more interesting than a general roundup of my weekend to blog about. :)

Misha at Saturday, June 11, 2005

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Thursday, June 09, 2005

*phew*

Today's one of those days when I shall be at university for approximately 11 hours thanks to an extremely odd scheduling of summer courses. Whilst I enjoy a large helping of stir-craziness, check out Helen's Suggestions to Make Work Better.

Misha at Thursday, June 09, 2005

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Wednesday, June 08, 2005

Beware the Computer-man

After many experiences, I have to tell anyone who asks me naively for the number of a trustworthy computer equipment dealer that such an animal, like a fairy godmother, exists only in fairy tales and Shrek movies.

Setting aside the previous experiences where one computer shop named after a popular search engine decided to solve my hardware problems using a hammer and taking every single component out and then reassembling my PC and then "forgot" to put back several important components such as my firewire card and LAN card. As it were, when I received my poor little PC back, I was shocked by the dents and shoddy welding done to hold the poor casing together from the back after it had been forced to open from areas that are not meant to be opened. Once home and over the shock, I noticed several key ports missing from the back, which led to an angry march with list of serial numbers of each component and an insistence that they find the hardware item matching each serial number. Never use a computer shop owner by some idiot who has no idea what his engineers get upto in their dark, dingy workshops upstairs.

After this, I decided to seek the help of one of the computer lab technicians at my university. Having known them for several years now, I figured they'd be the ones to trust with my poor, injured, bruised PC. Bad idea. Said technician took the PC to a place where he works after university hours and after much pestering, tells me the motherboard is shot and I should just buy a new PC altogether. After much arguing back and forth and insistence that I am not in the market for a new PC, I just want the old one fixed and working, the man grudgingly admits that a new chipset motherboard could do the trick. As his encore for this proclamation, he disappears. Literally. Anytime I visit the labs to find him, the man seems to be out. Anyone I ask about his whereabouts is vague and noncommittal. Finally, he is tracked down having a really long tea break in a room somewhere. After which I obtain my PC and run home muttering soothing phrases about never letting it out of my sight again.

Recently, it is the day of a strike. One computer shop in Khadda market appears to be open and I pop in for a little Q&A about their printers, which I desperately need to purchase. Turns out they have only Epson printers, but are offering a fair price for one. I pester aunt to fund my persuits and I head home happily with a supposedly sealed box containing a printer. Once home, it is discovered that the printer kit does not include a parallel cord, without which I cannot connect it to my PC. What good is a printer that cannot be connected to a PC, I fume and repeat this sentiment to shopowner over the phone. He states that his brother, who is the "technical one" will be back soon as he is "mobile" at the moment. Mightily pissed, I grab the whole box, styrofoam and all, an storm over to the shop and demand an explanation for the missing cable. "Technical" brother shows up and tells me no printer has an LPT1 cord included and has the gall to insist on charging extra for said cable. I let him know exactly what I think of him and storm out with said cable. Now, after initially working great, printer is refusing to print anything but garbage values. My personal suspicion falls upon the cable so today I must return to the shop for the third time to tell them what I think of them. Bah.

Misha at Wednesday, June 08, 2005

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Tuesday, June 07, 2005

The Fickle Feline

Cats, I have discovered, are the prostitutes of the animal kingdom. They will sell you a reasonably convincing facsimile of their affection for food. They will rub up against your legs and mew with all the guile of a newborn baby and affectionately come and sit right next to you on a bench for your samosa. They will then look up at you with those large, crystal eyes, mutely pledging their undying allegiance to you and your samosa. They will squabble incessantly with other cats who approach you. "This one's mine, all mine" they will spit at the intruder, as they chase him/her away and resume their seat right next to you. They will lie down next to your feet and invite you to rub their bellies and purr winningly while you do it. They shall do all this and then some, right up until the moment when someone with biryani comes along and sits down at the table next to you.

Misha at Tuesday, June 07, 2005

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Monday, June 06, 2005

After a pretty bad case of blog burnout, I'm going to try to start blogging a bit more. As of late, being stuck with Linear Algebra and Assembly Language Programming for company in these vacation has not been ideal by any means. It also seems everyone else is off being all responsible and worldly and trying to secure themselves a job with a decent starting salary. All this while, I sit here sipping some mildly cool Limopani.

Recently, we have had a media course, which most students are to take if they need three credits to graduate. Oddly, the module due to which I was enticed to join, Digital Photography, seemed to consist of just four classes of theory and the hardware of a camera. In the fourth session, we are expected to bring our portfolios to be marked. Four classes and we're suddenly magically competent in digital photography, it seems. I'm pretty sure Faraz could have done a better job actually teaching a bunch of novices about correct digital photography. Good old Pakistani "jugaar" strikes again.

Misha at Monday, June 06, 2005

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Doo-Bai!


Doo-Bai!
Originally uploaded by Mishaone.

Mum, who still could not quite digest the concept of her 22 year old daughter spending her money on a PS2, suggested a pretty decent alternative: go to Dubai!

For those who don't know, Dubai's my happy place and now I can actually afford to go myself. What would be even better is if my good friend M is able to join me there.

I love Karachi but I'm so severely burned out that I see nothing but misery (others' and my own) everywhere so this would be perfect! Dubai, here I come!

Misha at Monday, June 06, 2005

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Sunday, June 05, 2005

Milaad


Milaad
Originally uploaded by Mishaone.

This weekend: a large social function hosted by my mother in which (explicitly), I am expected to be a part of on penalty of death. You would think there wasn't any way to improve upon that tried and tested formula for the ruination of my weekend, however, I was wrong. Apparently, if you upgrade the function from just an ordinary social gathering to a religious function, say, a Milaad, my weekend actually is ruined by a few more degrees. Not that I have anything against religious gatherings, but how can I invite people with a straight face if even I don't want to be there? As it turned out, the recitations were actually very good and thankfully mum knew well enough to have the recitations for only an hour.

As I walked about, surrounded by strangers who seemed to know me or have known me at some point in my life, I realised what a blessing it is to be able to feel at ease amongst people and not think and re-think and then re-rething anything you're going to say until the moment has passed, to not feel awkward when confronted with new people. Anyhow, the point is, if you're able to socialise with some degree of ease, don't take it for granted. There are those of us who will hide till the crowd has thinned rather than burst into the middle of a circle of people and just start talking to someone you have never met before.

Misha at Sunday, June 05, 2005

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Thursday, June 02, 2005

Burn

Note: A post on the metroblog day or two ago, a copy of which I wanted to save here. Yes, I'm too lazy to post anything new right now.




The fire in the young man's eyes dwindled, just for a second, when he saw his target. The ancient road bride, it seemed ridiculous to even think it, seemed familiar to him. He stopped for a second, staring hard at the faded orange trimmings and the distinctive crown placed at the top of her head by some optimistic owner.

The young man shot a look over his shoulder at his comrades and, once certain nobody was paying attention, swiftly went around the side of the old road bride to get a closer look. Carefully, he hid the can of petrol he had been carrying behind one of the tyres and stepped closer to the side door. The once colorful trimmings that had proudly greeted passengers was peeling and dusty, but he climbed in through the door anyway. On pure instrinct, he quietly crept forward past all the empty seats in the men's section and finally came to a stop near the first seat in the women's section.

On seat closest to the window, he noticed someone had poked a hole the size of a child's fist in the plastic seat covers. In a daze, he slowly lowered himself onto the uncomfortably small seat, right next to the small hole in the cover and gently fingered it. Overcome by a suddent urge, he rolled his own hand into a fist and tried to fit it into the small hole. Of course it doesn't fit anymore, he thought with a small flash of anger. Nothing fits anymore. He twisted his body around to look at the cage that was the men's section, half expecting to see his father, hunched over and sweating, holding on for balance with one arm, but always ready for a conspiritorial wink. He suddenly remembered his father's luxurious moustache, always resembling an upside-down 'V'. The ends would elevate until they were almost level, forming an almost straight line ith the force of a smile a man reserves for his pride and joy.

The boy fingered the hole in the seat covers one last time then reluctantly rose and walked towards the men's section once again. As he passed the empty seats, he proudly hunched the way his father must have done every day. Before he knew it, he was out in the street again. Suddenly his father's smile was eclipsed by the image of his bullet ridden body, left out in the streets as men and women alike gathered around and watched, distant and uncaring as trees that surround a clearing. A premature frown reappeared on the young man's face as he abruptly swung around and resolutely picked up the can of petrol he had earlier hidden. The world would burn tonight.

Teray Tann Mein
Teray Mann Mein
Teray Ghar Ko Aag Lag Jaaye
Aur Tujhay Jaagna Aaye

- Saari Raat Jaaga, Noori

May all who lost their lives in the tragic violence in this city rest in peace. Ameen.

Misha at Thursday, June 02, 2005

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