The longer you wait, the worse it gets

Ayesha Ahmad

Woohoo! This one last post and then none to worry about. Yes! I am finally and thankfully done and over with, with this assignment!

This very thought fills me with a gust of triumph and makes me heave a deep, deep sigh of relief.

Now this post, which I am currently trying to work on, was actually due like a week back. Why did I fail to submit it on time then, you ask?

Well, it is not as if I am incapable of writing down my ideas in a compelling and a clear manner nor is it that I do not have anything interesting to say. In fact, I have efficiently managed to produce a couple of fine pieces (at least that is what the appreciative feedback under those pieces convey to me). The only factor which keeps making me fall behind is my awful habit of putting off work beyond the due date. You got that exactly right-- I am a procrastinator. Big time!

It is solely because of this terrible procrastination that : (1) I could not make it to History's terminal examination last year (imagine the height of carelessness!); (2) I do not give in my assignments on time and end up losing marks which could have been easily attained; (3) I do not study for mids and then have to sit for an extra hour during the finals for a makeup; (4) I still have no idea about what to study for the exam in which I have to re-appear although I have only twenty days left until the exams start; (5) the moderator/ 'bossy' team leader of this blog assignment is furious at me and would have kicked me out of the 'strong and supportive' ( as quoted by Saman Hashmi in her blog "My blogging experience") team long time back if I were not one of her beloved friends.

Although I have become familiar with this flaw in my personality, I still make no such efforts to overcome it. I say so because even this very post almost did not get written.

Just when I was about to begin writing, I thought of looking up for a quote to make the introduction have a good hook and the 'like' tab on one of the quotes pages led me to Facebook, the much addictive networking site. I soon found myself stalking my friends' profiles, because of their weird yet appealing status and profile pictures, only to find out that I have already wasted more than an hour as time simply vanishes into thin air while facebooking. From there I landed on to Tribune and the things which I never bothered giving heed to started grabbing my attention like Afridi buying a cattle farm and the cases of Dengue fever in Pakistan to name a few.

The realization that another hour of delay might contribute in the rejection of this post struck me like a gush of cold wind when I received Tehmina's( the team leader) text message asking me if I had sent my post to her.

And now here I am trying to collect all my thought and expressing them in an intelligible fashion although I had almost started at 3 and it is 7 already!

Mr. Edward Young, you were so right! Procrastination is indeed the thief of time.

There's always a Price to pay...

Ayesha Ahmad

Our mentors, teachers, seniors, counsellors, and employers have always advised us to get involved in extra curricular activities and attend as many workshops as possible. As more the certificates, the finer your resume`. Therefore, when there was this workshop on investigative journalism, organized by the department, we were all too eager to become a part of it. The enthusiasm was not only due to the new tactics of journalism that we were going to learn but also because of the attainment of the much desired certificate without paying even a single penny in the name of the registration fee!

So, when the clock struck eleven on Thursday two weeks back, I bunked my dreadful History class and, with a lot of fervour and zeal, headed towards the auditorium with two of my other friends who were nearly as excited about this event as me. Upon entering the cool, air conditioned room, we soon realized that we were late, and in order to get room in the front we ended up cramming ourselves on a two-seater. After all the hustle and bustle, when we looked around, we saw people with neat blue folders, ball point pens, writing pads and other accessories like dandy bookmarks and brochures to name a few. That bit got us agitated but after going through some oddities, even we managed to get our hands on those 'captivating' supplements.

Once we settled down and felt that we were ready to get the knack of this amusing branch of journalism, droopy eyes and discreet whispers made us conscious of the tediousness revolving around the whole space. This interesting yet idiotic realization was followed by the hideous photo session via cell phones and incessant laughter over the wierdest matters. So much so, even the guest speaker took notice of this and shook his head while looking at us for a wakeup call. However, as stubborn as we are, we kept ourselves occupied with our crazy nitty gritties without paying any heed to whatever was going on around us.

The refreshment box given at the end of the event indeed made all the boredom worthwhile!  

 

H.I. & I

By Ayesha Ahmad

It was the dawn of another typical, slow-moving day in the department. Our valued seniors were either busy cracking up on every lamest joke by their idle peers, sitting on the benches which now have mites stuffed in their matresses, or getting tea/coffee from the canteen which is always suffering from food deficiency . While, us, the know-it-all juniors were busy strolling the entire department for the sake of increasing our public relation or to have some brainless tete-a-tete with the newly arrived juniors (except for me, that is).

As for me, I was 'almost' busy sofa-napping when all of a sudden, without any such warning, we all saw Humair Ishtiaq on his way for his 'media and society' class- our major course for the third semester. 

Now for people who are not familar with Sir Humair Ishtiaq, he is an asset to our department. Besides being one of the most esteemed teachers, he is also frequently talked about amongst the Mass Communicators to be as the only teacher who actually makes them do something practical.

Alright, I wholly acknowledge the fact that this teacher of ours is an expert in his crafts but, in my eyes, he is also an expert at being EXTREMELY boring. And to top it off, the moustache under his nose hardly help in understanding the words mouthed by him.

So getting back to where I was, I told my partner-in-crime, Sidra, that I was in no freaking mood of taking his mundane class that day. However, she managed to pull me inside the class nevertheless, and made me sit cozily on a seat next to hers. I was sleepy as it is.

Actually, I am one of the biggest sleepy heads you can find. I sleep whenever I can, whether I am bored, sad or angry as I find it relaxing and all my worries just seem to fade away. Sleeping is my hobby and I find nothing weird about that.

So, while Sir Humair continued with his 'unidentified' approach towards politics, I ably engaged myself in being driven to a  world of wonderland which was filled with fields of daffodils and houses made out of candy canes. Yes, I had fallen asleep once again! And that too in front of Sir Humair...imagine the complexity of the situation.

 I was the pointed out, humiliated, and was asked for giving my face another wash as if that would have made any difference. Simply put, I was kicked out from Sir Humair's class. I, being helpless, first apologized and then eventually left the class for a cup of coffee from that food deficient cafe.    

 

Taking a Stand...

By Ayesha Ahmad

" Youth, like pristine glass, absorbs the prints of its handlers. Some parents smudge, others crack, a few shatter childhoods completely into jagged little pieces, beyond repair"- a quote from the The Five People You Meet in Heaven by Mitch Albom.

I have read a lot of fiction but this statement is one of the most powerful things I have read so far. This bitter truth reminds me of the fact that I, after being a part of the legendary department of Mass Communication of Karachi University for almost two years now, never meant to belong to it!

Yes, I know that this is an extremely mean and an ungrateful way of paying gratitude for all the skills and opportunities that this department has bestowed upon me, but it is time I got this out of myself.

Going back in time, I remember how my mom had always wanted me to give priority to subjects like Biology, Physics and Chemistry. I, on the contrary, after dipping myself into short stories of Enid Blyton, horror fiction of R. L. Stine and Francine Pascal's Sweet Valley, had developed a love affair with English.

Because of this reading habit of mine, which my mom had always loathed, not only did I use to find myself at an advantage from other class fellows of mine but I had also developed this ornamental style of writing which was always admired by my teachers and had often helped me in scoring the highest in English.

Therefore, while filling the admission form to get enrolled into Karachi University, it was only very natural of me to pick English as my major as I certainly knew that I was not eligible for departments like pharmacy and biotechnology although I had been a pre-med student. Hence, I opted for English.

However, after that day on, my life had become a living hell because my mom could never stop throwing her temper tantrums at me as she thought that getting married was definitely a better option than having a bachelor's degree in English.

Therefore, after spending two wonderful weeks in the department of English, I was forcefully made to switch to Mass Communication which, in my mom's eyes, was surely a much better choice.

After adapting to Karachi University and expanding my social circle, which almost took me one and a half years, I, unluckily, discovered that I was not the only victim who had fallen prey to their parents' aspirations.

" My parents, especially, my father, had always wanted me to be a pharmacist as he himself could not be one. I really did want to fulfill my dad's dream and that was the only reason why I spent the worst two years of my life in the department of pharmacy. When I could no more take in the dryness of that subject, I got myself transferred to English and started from scratch again," relates Mahwish Khan, a student of the department of English at KU.

On the other hand, Ifrah Khan, from the department of Mass Communications, reveals, " I openly call myself a rebel! I had my whole future marked out in front of me and I simply could not afford to listen to my parents and get myself enlisted in the department of Biotechnology."

I completely understand the fact that every parent on this planet tries to choose elements which, he/she 'thinks', is best for his/her child's interest but one thing they need to comprehend is that the selection of careers should be left solely in the hands of their children.

This might be offending but parents really need to stop nagging their kids when they have reached a mature level of education. Instead, they can play a much better role if they start encouraging their children and making them believe that all the success in any career actually depends upon initial struggles.

Thirsty crows of KU

By Ayesha Ahmad

The period between July and September should be known as the dog days of summer, specifically in Karachi. As a matter of fact, nobody can understand this hottest and muggiest part of the season better than the piteous, miserable students, whose ill fates had destined them to study at departments like Mass Communication and UBIT, which are situated at the remotest and the godforsaken corners of Karachi University.

Being in a hot, steamy sauna with a dozen lamps bearing down on you...yes, these are exactly the kinds of heat we MCDians experience when we return from our subsidiary classes, held usually in the Arts Faculty, with the scorching sun's rays raining down on us, as if we were just a feet away from it.

For those of you who are not familiar with KU, Arts Faculty is like a mile away from the department of Mass Communication, hence the inconvenience.

 You really ought to thank your lucky stars if you are granted a spare car or a bike to bring to the university as it makes life a lot easier and, not to forget, livable.

Once you return to the department, after attending a mind-numbingly boring lecture and travelling a great distance on foot in the sultry weather the only thing you would want to want to do is, after dropping yourself on those black leather couches which definitely would have been comfy once upon a time, have a tall glass of ice cold water as nothing can prove to be more satisfying than this in such a wretched condition.

 This is exactly when the water coolers come into the limelight. There are two of them in the department of Mass Communication and I bet all of us have taken this 'luxury' for granted like almost forever, but earnestly these can come in very handy when it is our parched throats we are concerned about. Trust me, if you are familiar with this machine and know how to deal with its settings, then cold icy water can be at your disposal whenever you would crave it.

All you have to do is to make sure that the machine is switched on and then check its thermostat, which is usually hidden somewhere on its either side, and turn its knob to the point where it says 'coolest'. Ask your nerves to grant you patience for a while and voilà!- refresh yourself with as much cold water as you like!

Fashion, Style and...Disasters!

By Ayesha Ahmad

I'm neither a fashionista nor a fashion designer in the making. Yet, my fashion sense, more than often, becomes a head turner for most of the people in my department (okay, let us not just limit it to
Mass-com only because girls at the Art's lobby are no less in making my dresses a victim of their scrutinies and mutterings either).



Many of my fellows believe that adorning one's self with good clothes, and that too, for just coming to the university is a mere waste of time but I, on the contrary, staunchly agree with Mark Twain, clothes indeed make the man!


Most of the people, in my social circle, think that being trendy and mod is all about dolling up and possessing fancy dresses. However, to me, fashion and style are primarily a matter of instinct. But, believe it or not, it is this very instinct which makes me fully aware and alert about the horrifying, yet interesting, fashion disasters breaking out regularly within the campus.

Hence, I have a compiled a bitty list of some of the fashion faux pas (French term for 'fashion blunders) which I have lately encountered in our very own Karachi University. The three weird categories are as follows:


1) The Pious Beauties:


This section is exclusively occupied by the girls who find it a necessity to observe purda'h in one way or the other. According to Britannica encyclopedia, purdah is a means of secluding yourself from public observation, but the ladies in KU seem to have a totally different approach towards it. With high heels and black fitted abayahs embellished with a colourful variety of bright, shiny diamontes, these Missie's feel like they are out of this world. And, of course, how can their look be completed without a thick strand of curled/straightened hair making its way out of their head covers!


2) The Match Freaks:


Seriously folks, your scrunchy, liner, kameez, shalwar, dupatta, socks and shoes really don't have to be of the same colour in order for you to look good- talk about eye sores! Not only is this disastrous fashion debacle pointless, but its plainly unflattering and just hideous all the way around. At situations like these, I sometimes wonder if such people have ever come across the term: colour co-ordination. Worse than this, is the fact that there are two maidens in the department of political science who find it an absolute must to dress alike everyday. Are these girls out of their minds or what?


3) The Outrageous Crew:


It's about time that we, the KUrians, accept the ground reality that we have neither enrolled ourselves in LUMS, nor are we studying in a college which only comprises of the elite class of the country. In fact, we all are a part of an institution which caters to the people from all walks of life. There are, obviously, certain rules and regulations to follow when studying at such a place and that 'unwritten' Book of Rules definitely does not include the trends which expose even a teeny weeny bit of your tummy, half of your shins or the exact proper shapes of your long alluring legs. I'm sorry if this sounds a little offensive but all this earnestly takes place within the Karachi University.


Seriously, common sense really is very uncommon!

The History Trauma

By Ayesha Ahmad

"Austria- Hungary declared war on Serbia. Russia got involved to defend Serbia. Germany seeing Russia mobilizing against Austria-Hungary,declared war on Russia. France was then drawn in against Germany and Austria-Hungary. Germany attacked France through Belgium pulling Britain into war. Then Japan made an entry which was followed by the association of United States of America and Italy on the side of the allies- one of the many root causes of world war I."


Messy, tangled and mind-numbingly tedious. Yes everybody, welcome to the exclusive classes of European History in the art's department of Karachi University.

After ending up with a 'D' in General History in the GCE O-level exam, I still ventured to opt for History ( read: European History) as one of my subsidiaries. Why? Oh, that is just because English timings did not suit me, IR had nothing of my interest and since two out of the only five of my so-called-friends then in the university were going for it, I thought I should too. And that, I did. But hey those were the bygone days and as the writer Nargis Dalal says, "present moment, only moment."

So, every Thursday and Friday, only if my lazy phase subsides and I feel that I have had a good night's sleep, I make an effort to come to the university 'just' to attend the dull, monotonous, boring, lifeless, uninteresting, annoying, drama-lacking (wondering if such a word exists) and draggy European History classes.

Located right across the Sindhi department in the thick of many lofty, shady palm trees lies a spacious and a well-ventilated room dedicated solely to the handful of 'spirited' students (precisely 5 pupils in my batch) . This particular class stands out from all the other classes. It does not only have its own peculiar aura but the presence of the variety of different maps of Europe in various sizes and shapes in its ambience definitely makes this room rather prominent and distinct.

Yeah, so every or no, every other Thursday and Friday, I step my foot in usually room no. 4 at around ten-ish, that is, if the teacher is present and make sure to grab the desk which guarantees me the most protection from the teacher's sight. But teachers will be teachers of course (sigh), therefore, I'm more than often either caught day-dreaming, snoozing or being unanswerable to a senseless question thrusted upon me. Even worse is the fact that sitting between Sidra and Tehmina (the two friends of mine whom I had mentioned earlier), who supposedly are the class geeks, I feel like an ultimate idiot possessing a mindless brain which seemingly appears to be good for nothing. Simply put, History classes are dreadful and I absolutely hate taking them.

However, despite all the hatred and the confusion, I always manage to pull the highest or the second-highest grade in every quiz, mid-term and the term examination, that is, if I manage to beat Tehmina. How ironic! But here i would like to pay immense gratitude to Tehmina's notes, which make me familar with the course, and Sidra's incessant text messages which keep reminding me to study at each and every hour. Seriously, without these wonderful people, I wouldn't have managed to reach the last semester of this hideous subject.

Unfortunately, this December, I will have to appear twice for this course's terminal's examinations as I did not bother to study for the exams last year. The course is very lengthy and there is certainly a lot to study but I'm keeping my fingers crossed.

P.S. please say a silent prayer for me after reading this as im in great need of luck.