My Letter to Myself
Unknown hostel, Muslim Town, Lahore. My dear Awais Babar, Ohhh man, look at you. You have grown your hair much longer. I know you have always admired the long hair, but has this deed of growing long hair satisfied you? Why? Isn't it this "satisfaction" which you are always after? Have you ever felt satisfied at all? Oh, now you must be thinking how rudely I'm behaving, not done the formal shit of "how-are-you-I'm-fine." Come on, I've been with you for twenty years now, you are never fine. Still that old habit of making too many plans and then never being able to complete them. Still listening to music for long hours with closed eyes, trying to escape reality, imagining yourself doing things that you really want to do, imagining yourself at the places where you really want to be, and then how do you feel when you come back from this short imaginal trip of yours? How's the reality Mr. Babar? It's hard, yes, it truly is. But you know that you yo...