My life has been as twisted as a Jalaibee, as crazy as bamboo plants, growing out of proportions and out of my own hand. My uncle is here living in our house, for him Ghazals are crappy music and a magnet holder made out of a toothpaste box attached to the wall of the fridge with a magnet is insane, he hates the Lipton advertisement hanging on our fridge door, thinks taking pictures of flowers and items he would rather sell to the “Teen Dabbay Wala” is stupid, he thinks I would somehow be interested in silly star plus dramas or Indian movies will somewhat inspire me, in short he genuinely doubts my sanity.. I never believed a procedure such as brainwashing ever existed, but now my faith is changing, I know the environment of NewKarachi has literally brain washed him washing off all the traces of the education he has inherited from his parents or had gained in school. I guess it will take some time to squeeze all the bad germs out of his brain, he still has this family legacy of giving a damn to the material world, but unlike his father(My Grand father “Nana”) snobs shrinks him a few inches short, in a contrast they make me bigger a few inches, the same was the case with my grand father, an elegant man he was who loved to kick snobs on their but, sending them off to hell. Being a tailor by profession and spending almost 80% of his life here in Pakistan living in a small cottage, my grand father refused to claim his property he had left in India, thanking for he had Pakistan he said ” We have got Pakistan what more do we need”. He raised his sons and his daughter, taught them all and gave them all the Moral education they deserved and any father could have given to his offspring’s. My mom his daughter he was most proud of turned out to be the brightest, she wrote for women’s rights, she pointed out the odds in our society and wrote so well that her articles were admired by leading writers of the time, I don’t know why she never gets them published. My mom gave up writing for me, her family and for humanity, the word humanity is something I rather not explain but it is stands in her life in bold letters, she gave up her identity for mine and I am what ever a freak I am because of her, I see life in minute details and I see things in abstracts which have deeper meanings then the surface of life shows, all thanks to my mother.
I don’t know how this whole topic went around a complete circle beginning on me and ending on my life. Am I self obsessed ? Have I lost it completely ? Am I a freak or a crazy art freak ? I am a good person or a moron ? The questions remain unanswered, I don’t know who or what the I am a complicated person wrapped in layers, and totally confused with his own personality, I am Jamash, a person in quest of understanding one’s own self. Who is Jamash ? The question remained unanswered.