Ah. The end.

School, Ladies and Gentlemen, has officially ended. Since I have no worries of reappearing in any of the exams any time soon, finality reverberates in this end.

We went to PapaSallie's. The place we've been going to for the past 6 years. One final "PaspaSallie's" moment. Before we all go our ways. Technically speaking ofcourse, we didn't. Not after dinner there, any way.:)..We went to Mariam's for a sleepover. Talked and talked and talked the entire nigth through. I really don;t think we left anything untouched. We stripped every possible issue in this world(in our own meek,personal capacity, ofcourse) of its covers. The nitty gritty. Secrets came out. Opinions. Ideas. Love.

Oh and we watched "The Ring 2" too. lol. I still have to figure out why its supposed to be scary. These scary-movie-walas, they don't really understand what fear is. They confuse it with thrill, suspense and negative excitement. Most people, the audience, they confuse all those emotions with fear too. But its not fear.
Fear is quiet. Very subdued. And that is why its chilling. Because its not a momentary adrenaline rush. Its there to stay. Fear. Real fear. It becomes a part of a person. Like a virus, it spreads, and ultimately , takes over.
THAT's fear. Not a woman screaming because she sees water flying into the air and a child with sodden, gray eyes. Not blood. And definitely not a creepy kid who wears deep red color on his lips and smiles these demented, god-forsaken smiles. I mean, really. What is "fear" coming to?...lol.

So anyway...its hard for me to connect to people sometimes. A lot of the times, actually. Almost all the time, infact. I can see through them a tad bit more than is necessary. So discomfort seeps in. Because I know. And because they know that I know. We work all our lives to sew this elaborate, layered robe over ourselves. We build ourselves teh way we want other people to see us. But everybody hides. Everybody has a dark side. And when they suddenely realize that someone can see through their clothing, they don't like it. In reataliation, some become meanies, others put on a strictly European "nose-in-the-air" snobbisness, some just withdraw. No one confesses. No one accepts. No one really reflects.
In the end, it is as if, we were all running from ourselves.

I'm thinking about what I'm doing this summer these days. Last summer I worked for "Dawn", the newspaper. A crash course in basic journalism. Fun. A lot of fun, actually. This time, though, I want something different. I could join an NGO, but this time, I just feel like painting. I feel like drawing and painting and sculpting my heart out. SO if I can convince my mom to splurge for art classes at Mansoor Rahi's, I think taht's what I'm going to do. Art and Philosphy. And old-book shops. And my music. My datesheet for the summer. Oh and Gym, too. I need to lose weight in anticipation of the freshman fat I'm inevitably going to gain, first year of college.

So yeah..a little bit of writing, some reading, a little scuplture and paint, music, Hira and her Lahore/Multan extravaganzas, and playing with Hasan(my almost 5-year old cousin, and the one pure, fat , warm, icecream love of my life). Not bad for a last, completely free summer.

My one last summer before life changes.