Showing posts with label Champion's League. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Champion's League. Show all posts

Thursday, December 20, 2012

Return Ticket

Hi, insane earthlings.

So, tomorrow's the Apocalypse, right? In the event of something horrible ACTUALLY happening, I've got nothing to worry about. I have already got myself covered. I made a sledge that is run by a pack of wolves, two Russian Dragunov snipers, and a cheesecake. Because, cheesecake is love. By the way, tomorrow, I'll put up a post where I make a list of things I do throughout the day, as I wait for something to hit us. If I don't post by 10pm- Dhaka time, please pay your last respects to my beautiful corpse.

Okay, enough with the Apocalyptic crap. 'Cause whenever someone comes up with something as such, my reaction to it is somewhat like this:

Sheldon Cooper = Awesome
I know, how ironic.

Man, I watched the Champions League draws today. And being a Real Madrid fan, I was very, very disappointed. We have to play Manchester United to get through into the QF. They aren't exactly the Great Wall of China, but they aren't one to beat easily, either. Plus, Cristiano Ronaldo has to play at Old Trafford, his former home. Like that isn't enough- most of us Madrid fans are counting on CR7 to give us that winning goal against his former club- the club that has made him the Cristiano Ronaldo he is today.However, I found a comforting stat: Real Madrid has progressed in three of their four European Cup ties against Manchester United, while coach Jose Mourinho has won six and lost just two of 14 previous games against the Red Devils in all competitions.

Phew.

As many of you might know, I've been watching a lot of Hindi movies/ listening to Hindi music ever since I moved here. And THAT is why many people have told me that I have "changed". Like, not in a good way, because honestly, I did not like the tone. After that, I stopped sharing Hindi stuff, but man I watched this one movie, and I couldn't help but share a particular song from the movie soundtrack. It is from the movie- Talaash. An incredible story, may I say. And if any of you wish to watch, let me hit you up with the ultimate spoiler. Kareena Kapoor is a dead hooker who died 3 years before the story time frame, and her soul still wanders the earth. There you go, movie spoiled. Anyway, here's the song:

Jee Le Zara- Talaash

Moving on, mom told me today that I had to go and confirm our flight reservations. Yes, I'm finally going back to Riyadh. So, I called this cousin of mine Zubair, and we went to the Saudi Airlines head office here. It was near a place called Farmgate, and believe me, that place is ALWAYS crowded. Oh, you have to know how I met Zubair. Much like our family, his family lived abroad for most of Zubair's upbringing. They moved in here from Kuwait a month before I showed up. So since this dude had a bit of Middle Eastern blood running in his veins, I figured that we would kick it off. And sure enough, we did. However, the first time we met was something like this:

His dad invited us over. So, when we were there, his elder sister took me to his room, where he was having a jamming sesh with his friends. Now, the general idea is when you're outside a room where a jamming sesh is in progress, you'll hear something. Like, the sound of a bass chord, or whatever. But let me tell you, man- I DID NOT HEAR SHIT. It was almost as if I've lost my hearing. Till date, I don't know how something like that happened, nor have I asked. However, we made good friends, and over time, I came to know a lot about him. First up, he's a total stoner. They say being friends with a stoner will eventually make you one, but since I've vowed to never light the grass again, I think I'm on the safe side. However, I'll give you this- Pot will give you super powers, and an immense amount of wisdom- for the time being, though. Anyways, stoner or not, Zubair never fails to crack me up. And that's because, at times, he has this attitude where he pretends to be all ghetto and shit- despite being a privileged teenager. Often time, I picture him as this:

Honestly, you're too fat for a thug.
Next up, he had a pretty girlfriend, but man, her personality was really weird. Speaking of the word "weird", this picture came into my mind.

I always had a massive, massive, massive crush on Lily Aldrin. ♥ 
Okay, so his girlfriend. I agree, she was undeniably "do-able", but that bad a personality, man?

Man, I've moved too far out! Where was I? Oh yes, Saudi Airlines HQ. We reach the help desk, and inquire who to go to for flight reservations confirmation. The dude at the help desk accompanies to a room, where we were supposed to wait for some officer. Anyways, we wait, and the dude finally turns up. We talk for a while, and after some time, he tells me that my visa is not valid. Now, if there was anything I was completely sure about, it would be my visa being valid. This guy was obviously playing some mind shit with me, and I was ready to raise some hell. My cousin was all big-eyed, and had a jawdrop, cause I mean, I usually speak up loud. I was NOT going to let anything ruin my flight back to Riyadh. I was flipping out, and for the officer on the pother side of the desk, I was just another brick in the wall.

A few minutes later, I decided it'd be best to kick back, and play my cards carefully. Because, in places like these, people will always fuck with you. Play your cards right, and you'll hit the peak even before you know it. Play them wrong, and you'll be dead even before you hit the floor. So, anyways, I think this is the first time when I have produced every legal document I have, and not left something back home. And surely, I was successful in swinging the scales to my favour. I finally laid my hands on my return ticket.

Checkmate.

Thursday, November 22, 2012

Between Now, and Hereafter.

Hi, hello, please spare me the usual intro where I say how long it’s been, and accuse myself of irregularity. Well, guilty as charged.  If this blog was a world famous one, right now, I would have walked in on gunpoint, and would be feeling a billion eyeballs on my back. Matter of fact, I lost track of time ever since I stopped blogging. And now, honestly, it is seemingly pretty hard picking up where we left off. But nevertheless, this time, Marzoukeh has returned for good- no shit. I am not leaving this time, until death do us apart, or…someone offers me a soda, whichever comes first.

Yes, I do relate to this.
Okay, first up, let me tell you why I’ve been out for awhile now. Well, primarily, it’s not like my love for blogging has faced any tarnishes, however, I lack motivation. And believe me, I wouldn’t have been back now, if it wasn’t for this mail I received a few days ago. This amazing blogger I know, Fareeha noticed that I was far out, and buzzed me. And, THAT was some hardcore motivation, dare I say. Heck, if you ask me, I’m still having the shakes from blogging withdrawal. Visit Fareeha’s amazing blog HERE, and just so you know Fareeha, your post about your first crush has made me write about mine. However, there is no way in Hell that I’m putting it up on my blog. Here's a song for y'all to enjoy while I bore you with my banter. Oh btw, people I know, either LOVE or HATE this song. So, if you hate it, don't bite me. To me however, it is just 4 mins of genius music.


"Be students, be teachers. be politicians. be preachers. Be believers,be leaders, be astronauts, be champions, be true seekers."


Anyways, going back, I was off because, all in all, Dhaka has been a crazy roller coaster ride so far. I’ve met a buttload of people, of which some I dearly love, some of them were last seen when I as young as being breastfed, and the rest of them were “bloody dreadful”. People have been telling me of how I love my hometown with all my heart. That I do, alright. What these people miss is that, THIS place isn’t my hometown. Riyadh is home. And only the Man upstairs knows how much I miss home. On the brighter side, I have now gone through a lot of new experiences. And when I say “a lot”, I mean, a bloody lot. But, as the night falls, the city lights fade away, and the country goes to sleep, that is when my morning alarm buzzes off! It’s not like I don’t sleep at night, it’s just that I have tones of sleepless nights. And that is exactly when I pour my mind out of pieces of paper, filling page after page. At times, I wonder what shall become of these once I’m no longer around. But eventually, writing tires me off, and there come a time when even RedBull don’t give me no wings.

You see, the people here are lunatics by birth. Let’s take my maid, for example. You know how obsession is defined as the excessive love of something/somebody, to a stage where they can’t stop pondering over the said subject, and is considered creepy? Well, my maid takes the word “obsession” to a whole new level of creepy. She is totally caught up the cricket hype. A few nights a week, when I’m up late at night, watching the Champions League play-offs, she’d come to me and ask if she could watch cricket. I mean, cricket over UEFA Champions League? Are you fucking kidding me? Being a hardcore fan of our cricket team, she knows all their players, their birthdays and what the fuck not. She knows so much detail that it sometimes freaks me out. I think the sole thing that keeps her alive is that some well-known cricket player will someday fly out here, swoop here off her feet, and fly off to some other place. I’m not sure, though. I’m just making an assumption, but as far as I’m concerned, the amount of detail my maid has, my assumption seems to be very much valid. Man, I’m through with this maid. I’ve decided that, next thing tomorrow morning, I’m telling mom that it’s either the maid or I that’s leaving the house. But knowing my mom, she might have second thoughts about dismissing the maid, and end up ruling me out. And since I don’t like my odds, I decided it’s best to be silent for a while.

You know, it actually does feel great to be back. Although, I admit, being irregular has decreased my typing top speed. I think my brother has won just one typing speed test against me, and he just won’t shut up about it. I wish he’d stop for once, when he sees me going all tippity-tap on my laptop. Another thing I realized is that most bloggers I know are Pakistani. There’s Sarah Saud from The Turmoils of My Life, Fareeha from "Furree Katt", Shahzaad Ahsan from "Evil", and I think two other people. At first, it felt pretty weird when I didn’t find any blogger from the place I hail from. But then again, I think blogging is pretty Indie, so I don’t blame anybody. However, to all newbie bloggers out there, high five.

Lord Stinson knows how to do it best!
I have a cousin’s birthday party tomorrow, and believe it or not, I haven’t decided what to get him, yet. I was thinking a pair of hi-tops will suffice, but I don’t know where to get an authentic pair of those bad boys. But you know what- it really doesn’t matter. Because, at most of the parties here, I’m alone in a crowded room. Heck, don’t get me wrong. Neither am I emo, nor am I anti-social, it’s just that, I feel there’s a lot missing, and I’ve come to the wrong place. I’m not really sure on how to describe this feeling, but more on that later. Because, as of now, I think this post is getting extremely big. On a parting note, here’s something for the people who feel lost like I do. Always remember, that not all those wander in the wild, are lost.

And if any of you people can, please drop some good songs on the comment section below this post. Cuz, I’m starved of good music atm. And, do not dare to suggest anything from the BillBoard Top 100. Heard, and nailed the lyrics of every single one of them. Okay, maybe not the lyrics.

Peace out, posse.