Tag Archives: concept of time

Nasir’s Thoughts on Reading and Writing through his Letters

MOODY

I am a man of spatial heights, inspirational self, and emotional depth

I am browsing through an abundance of letters, written to me in different moods of Moody. I have attempted to sift through not all but most of his letters and layout for your reading few passages to illustrate his fondness for a choice of words and his own expressionistic style. Somewhere he is deeply perceptive and insightful in his style somewhere you would notice his witticism and funniness. Let me put these down and let you do your own costing and pricing. 

—— In the last few days, I have been on the thoroughfares and frivolities of my daily norms. I was out of words but improvising my ways. I did not have much trouble with reading but the concussions of routine readiness had impeded my writing. Writing can be extremely tedious while your reading desires are on the burner. I would start to read after having written reasonably and by the time I was able to marginalize few paces, thoughts become provocative. In trying to resolve single logic of what was being read fast, multiple comparisons started precipitating from the living world and books. The momentum lost meters making the speed burdensome especially when you are reading an old-fashioned hardbound book in which a line travails to 13 or 14 words. Not to mention the 3 or 2 words in the hideout of shadow on every line. The eyeballs just kept bickering over and across narrow margins and wide spaces yet trying to gobble all bytes together. I guess this is a payment for the price of Taj Mahal and to engage with every apparatus of potential is truly prolific and exhilarating. For a long time in my life, I always felt ambivalent toward my inner self and with people around me. A little shy when my ideology tried to surface and to communicate it across the bench. Perhaps this is Coach Carter’s fear that makes us shine and everything around us. I kept wondering how people would opinionate me and in the process kept plenty incarcerated. Whenever I discussed my demeanors, people caressed stultified faces, sardonic smiles and complete ironic denial of what I tried to deliver. This was always disquietude in Pakistan but views abroad were never sought posthumously. Resultantly, I did not dwell on what was in mind to bear and deliver. Sometimes I eared the erring and occasionally my receptiveness remained audible of their resonation. However, it started attenuating the day I began turning and toppling every stone engraved on books. I outsourced consolation but the ability to describe books and my own idiosyncrasies began to resolute me in less difficulty. I think true love is an icon of eternal human being but to love books lays in him its’ glorification for eternity. To gain that end requires meaningful contemplation, self-discipline to draw a balance between reading and writing. it is how Aristotle said that by slowing down distance it is divided and by increasing speed, time reduced.

I never run out of letters. Words reside in layers whilst my seamless perspicacity to expound in sentences, however, intricate is return, return to scurry lifestyle. To write is almost captivating that you never feel relinquished from its charm afterward and all you do is squeak a hoarse throat in a swarm of skirmishing noise around. Rest you are right. Life is a beauty when I glare the blondie named Carlie and not to compliment her friend Emilie is unfair. Rachel and I are embittered by a slipshod boyfriend of hers called Luke and making plans to take the bloke out of the equation. Rest is well. My books beckon me. I will embrace them. 

Few closing lines of Nasir’s letter to his younger brother Bilal. 

— How are your studies? It is my foremost interest about you, is inclusive, for myself, and, I deem that it is something we both share in common. Have you been taking tutorial tests and if yes, any shortcomings or ambivalent scenarios you think that they may have been overlooked or requires your heedfulness? How are Musty, Eiman, Rabia and Haider Bhai? I bet kids must be cranky, noisy and all that is probable and prevalent among chirping children. How is Mommy? Do Batmans need sidekicks or their mean or modes sum acceptable as average? What is captivating about SMALLVILLE these days? Is the Director nagging with his usual impasse or episodes have unveiled anything mind-blowing? I speak to Ali often and he seems to be doing well in the communion of Wollongong gals. Yesterday Hasselhoff phoned me from the beach in a very enlivened embodied voice. Rest you can let your machinations do the aftermath of Ali’s running and life savings on sand aside lighthouse and ocean shores. All that laxity of muscles in action in a slow-moving animated symmetry of style, let alone, the music preponderating in background boisterously. Anyhow, much for today’s exponential farce and I must bid you leave. Stay in touch and take loads of care. Your loving bro. Moody.

—- I have not read what I have written so far but it seems that writing is flourishing and without it, there is no escape if I have to survive the hailstorm of ANU’s master’s program. Additionally, my every impulse tells me that since I am reading slowly and more importantly that the new habit I have formed and is similar to the habit Bertrand Russell had, which is, stuttering his tongue with entrenching lips while reading and mostly forming images. I am also thoroughly enjoying this newly borrowed book from the library called “Aristotle on Memory”. It is a fantabulous piece of Greek synthetic piece and I have every intention to avail its theory in my everyday life pragmatically. My fundamentals of imagination have already started to imprint every work in the form of Phantasma as is described by Aristotle interpreted by Sorabji. I find it funny because all the reading tippers on book outlets would stress reading fast whereas all the prolific writers I have read so far they mostly procrastinated reading, and, the ones I don’t know whether they did, never mentioned fastidiously.—

In the year 2006 when I was crossed over for next rank, Nasir sent me an email. The subject was HELLO! He mentions Reinhold Messner- who is he? you may be wondering. I was his Liaison Officer twice when he came to Pakistan to Climb Nanga Parbat Solo first by a mountaineer to do so on an 8000 m peak. A feat never achieved before 1978. In 1979 he came again and climbed K2. I was his LO then as well. This mail is a testimonial to the fact of his ability to collect the right verses to tell me that I finished one like a successful Major General. As it is impossible to cover the beauty of his expression in these short blog posts, I shall end this one with his mail as I received it on 11 April 2006 while I was the Deputy Force Commander in UN Mission in Liberia, where I remained for 3 Years. Be entertained 🙂

I asked someone if you have heard of Reinhold Messner?  Sie mir gesagt, Ja, He has great fame. I said my father knowns him ever since he climbed K2 in 1979. I watch all great things come to an end. But will remember you always from the greatness of a General. I tried to look if there was greatness in honesty. Example stood steadily in General dealing with the generality of every major life doing. I said what if there was only a little more time? There has always been time but now is only meant not in this way. But there is no news like today. I said, so is news of tomorrow and what of possibilities? There was no need to become beyond the responsibility of such great General. I said life is difficult when dealt not in words; But still, always the word saying to have felt them. I have to look everywhere for the best of me because it is hard to find further excellence as my father’s. If it is not for the achievement readily climbed then finishing one like a successful Major General. Wisdom is light of all truth but it takes no flame from it because in itself is the enkindled truth!  Your loving son NASIR. 

“You are my sterling Warriors and Pride of Pakistan”

 

 

 

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Blushes Of My Pen and Brush

Mastering others is Strength. Mastering yourself is True Power ~ LAO TZU

head-vs-heart

Of many happenings in my life, I can count  many which have left a deep and lasting traumatic impressions.  Gradually, now after prolonged years of life, I am beginning to realize a definite transformation has taken place in me. The head and heart both have embraced the change – I think I can feel and think with both. It is seldom that one remains ahead of the other constantly. Ups and downs of life haven’t affected me a lot. In many ways I think others  would have been influenced more than how I perceive them in my own case. Yet my life has been full of traumatizing experiences especially because of people and incidents connected to me.  During the last 12 years or so, I have mulled over my reflections of the past as well as ruminating what future holds for me. This state has not resulted out of any discontentment or vexation. My center point of aspirations and dreams of not  what I should have been but what I did not do, so to be able to make a difference in lives of others. At the same time, I have regret over what I could learn and what were my potentials to explore and exploit my life. I think I became like so many who are moving in my first two inner circles of life and are lost in a directionless existence. Their goals, in my opinion, more of what they would like to be in a short term. I can fathom their lack of desire and action to break themselves free. Some, rather many are not sure of themselves of what they could achieve with their lives. Many, sadly do not realize their true potential. Me, I consider myself in a group in that circle. I seriously feel that I have wasted so much of Time which I could ‘earn’ usefully not in a materialistic way but what I could do to contribute which could have been my earning. I have a self-belief that no matter how difficult, I could have excelled in many ways. In the last decade or so, I have dissipated two years of my life. The unintended dissipation of my concept of ‘Time’ has resulted into reorientation. The tone and tenor of my inner surges have pulled me away sneaking to a new found stimulus. The forces inside me have definitely done one thing for sure of which I have no vacillation. They have kindled my urge to write. Two areas I have begun to free myself to. Write my life story. It has been difficult because of vast empty spaces when it comes to details. I am happy that I kept all diaries, despite so many movements and resetting within the military postings and transfers.  These diaries which I wrote with interruptions have helped in jogging my memories as best as I could and relate to events at that time and letting the pen do the rest. The second is writing when I am affected by my own biases, people, and events, impassioned feelings, first impressions and judgemental thoughts. This state remains fleeting and open-ended without leaving any imprints unless I do not gloss them in my words with an exact description of how I felt and with congruent intensity at the time. I have added a couple of my thoughts on my Blog Page as MINDFULNESS and DRIBBLING WITH RUMINATIONS. I have to think of a title or choose a heading, will do so this after I have finished this page. I am occupied presently writing my initial draft of my life story. The idea is to preserve me in black and white. I will leave it behind me for someone to discover me more of what I am. Strong writing skills haven’t been my forte. I do consider myself missing a lot of cardinals of good writing. Browsing the net for Autobiographies and Biographies I have today stumbled upon searching for a list of works of great writers. I accidently found out about great American writer Mark Twain who left instructions not to publish his autobiography until 100 years after his death which was around 2010. I have yet to read the book so cannot right away comment on why? I though know that I would continue to write and leave my draft script for somebody else to take up the challenge. So much for considering myself to be somebody’s challenge.

Let me come to my second part of the action. In 2012 I started painting with great earnest. Self-learning is a great pleasure and in this case tremendous relaxation. It has been now almost 4 years that I have been painting. The weekends are the days I look forward to playing with colors. Gradually after giving away over hundred paintings to friends and colleagues has given me the priceless endorsement of my work. Thanks to Facebook which allowed me to showcase my work to the surprise and bewilderment of many of my friends who did not know of my love for painting. What really pushed me to keep on the painting is a Pakistani  cartoonist, caricaturist a painter and a friend Sabir Nazar who lives in Lahore and belongs to Kohat. He told me not to care how good or bad is my work as long as I was doing it myself – that was the trigger which set everything in motion. I tell everyone that I do not consider myself an artist of any sort. I am far away from being a traditional artist. I am self-trained and learned through practice. The painting has given me a life to create. My Hobby is not to just distract myself but to distract away from worldly nickel and dime stuff and other triflings. I am not attracted to colors but it is the colors of nature which pull me. I am not painting to sell. I am driven to paint, but I want to sell. I enjoy the feeling of knowing my works will definitely be a source of adornment. It has already happened and it will continue to be. The paintings I make have been a great source of pleasure. Something very solo and unrepeatable. Something made is final. I hate to correct my mistakes on canvas. Where I have done I have not liked it. Good or bad let it be.

The entire activity with brush and what I write is driven by my absolute and the central key of the relationship of me with Time. I have tried to say and I have written about that. Much is in my mind but the darkness of outer space and the world of moons, suns and stars have convinced me and I say it always for myself that I only live in future. The present for me is not more than a PICOSECOND – one trillion of a second. That is my present to you. Please read and enjoy and comment.