Gulbadan

First, let me start off by saying that "procrastination" is an extremely difficult word to write, and an even more difficult one to say. I always confuse it with "procreation" for some odd reason.

Anyway, now that that's out of the way, we address the topic at hand: procrastination. Everyone procrastinates. It's really a fundamentally important part of human nature I believe. And yet, everyone feels guilty when they do so and, more importantly, surprised when it actually happens.

That happened to me yesterday, where the procrastination devil hit me hard, and I ended up wasting what was supposed to be the most super-productive day ever.

This is what was supposed to happen yesterday - my ideal daily planner told me this:
1. I was going to wake up early.
2. I was going to enjoy a nice, healthy, filling but quick breakfast and then a nice, warm but quick shower.
3. I was going to head off to the library, reaching there around 11 am and begin work.
4. I was going to spend 3-4 hours applying for a few dozen summer internship positions by writing cover letters, tweaking my resume and sending out the necessary emails to contacts and employers.
5. I was then going to break for lunch - a quick but health bite, really.
6. Post-lunch, for the next few hours I was going to invest all my energy doing (and completing) research for a final paper I am supposed to write for a course I am currently taking.
7. I was then going to come home late at night after many hours of hard labour, warm up the leftover pasta for dinner, and then head to bed all tired and satisfied.

So yea, as you can see, this would have been a very productive and useful day.

This is how it turned out.

1. So I woke up late. Bad start. I had slept at 3 am the night before, because I was watching Battlestar Gallactica season 2, so that's really the root cause.
2. I made breakfast - healthy and filling. Then I thought I'll watch one more episode of BSG because I really need something to do while I have such a large quantity of breakfast.
3. So obviously since the show is so fucking addictive I couldn't resist watching another one. Two episodes later I realized I needed to rent the remainder of the season from the university library, but couldn't stop, so went online to search for streams of the next episode.
4. Couldn't find them, ended up noticing that new episodes are out for both Gossip Girl and How I Met Your Mother. Said to myself that it's really just 2 measly episodes, there's no harm in watching them. That was another hour or so gone.
5. Thought I'd catch up on the news while I was online, so went to the DAWN website. Read a few articles, and came across the phrase "we must be vigilant all the time." Probably a Pakistani-terrorists-creating-mayhem-and-causing-the-rest-of-the-world-a-big-fat-headache story.
6. Started thinking how the word "vigilance" is so cool. Remembered something I had read somewhere, a lot: "constant vigilance." Started raking my brain but couldn't place it. Where was it? Lord of the Rings? Gandalf? No, unlikely. Harry Potter? Hmm. Likely. Sounds like something Dumbledore would say. "Harry, we must show constant vigilance (or else Voldemort will anal-rape Hermione and spear Ron.)"
7. Went to Google searching for "constant vigilance" and found it. Aha! Mad-Eye Moody's pet line. Why did I think Dumbledore? Hmm.
8. Came across a Harry Potter fansite specializing in trivia and assorted information about all things relevant to the books.
9. Ended up spending seven hours on it. Yes, seven fucking hours. On one website. (Clearly you can see how much I like Harry Potter.)
10. Realized it was too late in the night to start doing anything productive, so started watching the "Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" movie. Fell asleep within one hour. I think that depressing robot did the trick.

The next day, today, hasn't fared so well either. Although I did end up waking up on time, and did make a healthy and filling breakfast again (btw, I also watched the latest Scrubs episode while eating it), and did make it to the library on time, and did start researching for my paper, I ended up getting distracted on the internet again, and started reading up semi-related articles and the like. And then, in an unexplained moment of utter madness and stupidity, I somehow ended up having a conversation with a recent ex girlfriend. That led to a flood of a thousand good memories and fun times spent together and the inevitable and totally sour parting of ways, resulting in pain and heartache and depression that will probably last for another few days, if not weeks.

So, yea, that was pretty screwed up. Should never have stayed up late at night watching Battlestar Gallactica to begin with.

So Asif Zardari, that mischievous little bugger I proudly call head of state, has finally committed mistake number one. After one year of building a solid innings on a difficult pitch facing a barrage of chin music and using nothing but Steve Waugh-like guile and resolve, he has unfortunately given a halwa catch to mid-on only one stroke away from what would have been a glorious century on return (from, of all places, prison).

For those whose heads the above cricket analogy flew over (and allow me to point out that I use a cricket analogy only to register my strongest condemnation of the sport's recent anal-rape in Pakistan), allow me to translate: Zardari has basically lost the plot.

Obviously he has made a total mockery of the government by responding to the Long March how he has. As someone said, it is like watching the Musharraf government's action replay. What is surprising to me, however, is how a man of his calibre could allow such a thing to happen, completely far-removed as it is from how I expected him to handle it.

Here is how he should have handled this crisis (and how, frankly, I thought he would, the cunning little ninja turtle that I know him to be). By following these simple steps, he would have turned the situation around in his favor:

1. He should have turned Constitution Avenue in Islamabad into a big marriage hall, covering it with tents large enough to protect the expected 100,000 people from the evil Pakistani sun. He should have covered the approach road with the traditional red-and-yellow carpet of our wedding season, and sprinkled it with rose petals.

2. When the Long March arrived, he should have asked the IG Police to shower Aitzaz Ahsan and Ali Ahmad Kurd with even more rose petals, like we would to welcome a grand wedding procession. He should have also asked some of his paramilitary troops to engage in aerial firing as a celebration of the guests' arrival. Of course, for a second, the Marchers would have been totally mind-fucked thinking the police has opened fire on them. Hah, that would have been quite a fun sight. I am sure our esteemed president is entitled to have some fun - it's been a rough year.

3. Once the guests, having completed their journeys from far flung corners of the motherland, had rested adequately, Zardari should have served them with a grand and monumentous feast including such obvious delicacies as biryani, qorma and fried fish, followed by a healthy serving of kheer and zarda. After all, you do not send your guests back on an empty stomach in Pakistan, now, do you?

4. Once everyone was well-fed and ready to party, Zardari should have arranged for the musical entertainment to begin. After all, the marchers are experts in singing/listening to songs and chants and, since most of them are talented but wasteful young people, love having a ball of a time. To grace the occasion, he would have invited Shehzad Roy and that new LUMS-exported Marxist band making the rounds nowadays to serenade (!) the audience with their politically charged and uplifting numbers. The irony should have pleased my leader.

The party should have easily continued till the wee hours of the night, at which time the Marchers, having obviously decided to have a sit-in (since they have such a kickass supply of shade, food and entertainment), should have been handed makeshift tents, sleeping bags and mattresses, all courtesy of the Ministry of Tourism (donated by the said Ministry since the stuff was lying idle in all its motels, resorts and camping sites around Pakistan for many years for an obvious lack of tourists). This would have made the Long Marchers' night much more comfortable, enabling them to rise again the next morning to continue their quest for political revolution and positive social change (which really should never be happening on empty stomachs and minimal hours of sleep).

5. On the following day, Zardari should have personally ventured out of his mansion and made a courageous and historical speech to the gathered audience. In that speech, he should have explained to his listeners how much inherently cooler he was compared to them, should have derided their guts in thinking they can create a dent on his popularity (both in rural Sindh and the USA, currently his main constituencies), should have elaborated on the general theme that he is not scared of these sissy-pant foreign-funded elitist urbanites, and in general should have put in its place this motley crew of corrupt lawyers and ex-judges, hot chicks from fancy private universities, overweight, uncouth Nawaz sycophants and Taliban-supporting-and-India-bashing Jamaat kids.

6. He then should have continued to supply the Marchers with a daily dose of food, boarding and entertainment until they, out of shame and misery, would have returned back to their comfortable little abodes and living rooms with a constant supply of entertainment, Hamid Mir and Zaid Hamid.

Yea, that’s the Zardari I know and love. That’s really what he should have done. Instead, he fucked things up big-time. Instead, he made a mockery of everything he won his election on. Instead, sir Mr Zardari, you have become a quasi-dictator. Shame on you. Shame, shame!

On a side note, I wonder had the energy, effort and resources going into the Long March been spent on a similar anti-terrorism procession from Karachi to Swat (if not beyond), how much of an impact it could have created. I guess that’s irrelevant now. After all, once the Chief is back, he’ll deal with Mullah Fazlullah himself. Yessirree, he shall kick Fazlullah’s butt like it’s never been kicked before! Oh yea, suo moto that, you cheap radio jockey! Run before your remand comes! Run on that purty little white horse of yours! F.E.A.R. T.H.E. C.H.I.E.F!