Author Archives: fatimaek

For The Love of Everything Korean

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By  Asiya Shoaib Ismail

It’s something that started rather reluctantly, really. There was this dread attached to somebody forcing me to sit through a 16-episode Korean drama, just because he found the lead girl adorable. Though I was in fits for the very first episode staring at a highly caked-up lead male who looked too effeminate for any girl’s taste, but oddly the first episode ended at this amazing note that I sat through all the 1-hour-long episodes in 2 sittings. This drama was called Heartstrings (넌 내게 반했어/You’ve Fallen For Me). You-ve-Fallen-For-Me-Heartstrings-youve-fallen-for-me-heartstrings-23591556-1280-1024

Highly caked-up lead (aka Jung YongHwa) Highly caked-up lead (aka Jung YongHwa)

This was just the start of an immensely severe addiction for everything that is Korean, from the plethora of good music, talented singers and dancers, the well-scripted Korean dramas, as well as the language and the connection I feel to their culture being from Asia, albeit a separate region of the continent.

There…

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And She Knew No More

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By Fatima Ebadat Khan

“Get up! You worthless woman! Get up now!” the drunken shouts of Tehmina’s husband mingled with her terrified, blood curling screams of last night echoed in her ears.
As her eyes snapped open, it took her a minute or two to take in her surroundings. She found herself lying on the cold marble floor, wearing what remained of her already tattered clothes, which were now in shreds.
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Tehmina tried to lift herself up but regretted this almost immediately as this slight movement made every nerve in her body twist and agonizing pain rippled through her body. Screams escaped her lips as she mustered the strength to lift herself from the floor. At once she collapsed onto the hard sofa. Tehmina peered at the blackish – blue bruises that her husband had inflicted upon her in his last night’s fit of rage. Carefully avoiding her face and…

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Fluttering Wings

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Is it like when winter wind blows?
No matter now for no one knows
My eyes dart from darkness to darkness
In my trembling body, my fright shows

I hear voices, echoing screams
And something white, a light it seems
Fluttering wings I vaguely see
Like those I remember from the first of my dreams

It is time to leave this cave of darkness
To a place where nothing dwells but lightness
I am no longer what I knew myself to be
Spirit of the heavens; my new identity

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The Two Sides to My Love Affair

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There are two sides to the person I become when I take my position on the driver’s seat and become, in a figurative manner, one with my car. Even when I go weeks without driving, it takes only a second to find that the connection, the two-sided connection to my car, is still there and unbreakable.

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The first side is the untypical one, the one that is unexpected from any driver in the city of Lahore. It is the careful side. It’s the side that loves the car far too much to allow it to ever be hurt. Anticipating the car in front of me, behind me, or parked to the side are potential candidates for hitting and hurting it keep me from driving like a maniac, and to forewarn those idiots to stay away from us. The worst kind of imbeciles to save your car from are…

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“I am not an Island!”

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It is a common phrase we hear, tucked in here and there to show that man is not self-dependent or independent, and in fact requires not only companionship but also strength in numbers in order to gain his sustenance.

If you come to think about it, even the natural order of things does not allow for me to be a complete loner. I was born as a sixth member of my family. Right when I was born I had two sets of grandparents, parents, fives uncles, an aunt, a dozen cousins and three (incredibly awesome) siblings.

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As we begin to grow up, we are institutionalized, by which I mean put into academic ones. From this point forth our life is just a race through one school to another, or to a college, and then to a university and then perhaps to another university. All these years you manage to gather…

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Attack of the Tyrannosaurus in the 21st Century

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One of my biggest obsessions is the T-Rex. T-Rex tees, bottles, puppets, you name it I got it! It all started obviously with Jurassic Park, which is one of my most favourite movies ever. I saw that movie as a child when it first released in Pakistan a couple of years after its original release, even though I was only a few years old then. One of my fondest childhood memories was seeing the Jurassic Park poster plastered over all over the wall of a local cinema and watching cinema and watching all the three movies with my family whenever they made their way to Pakistan’s  movie theaters.  Image The coolest thing about the Tyrannosaurus is that besides being severely handicapped by its tiny arms it’s one of the greatest movie monsters ever. From the moment that you hear the slight thump and the rings in the glass of water you…

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The Ugly Duckling

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So, this article is all about me and the way I look. That sounds narcissistic, but its really not. Just read a bit more and you’ll know exactly what I’m talking about. 

Appearances matter. Whoever says they don’t probably hasn’t set their eyes on the likes of Scarlet Johanson, Leonardo DiCaprio and Gerard Butler *drools*.  So when we’re talking about appearances, have you ever experienced the feeling of looking back at your old pictures and going, ‘Good God, what was I thinking?’.

I’ve experienced that countless times. Whether it was the bucket-load of foundation on my saari party that made me look like an Indian geisha, or the unevenly applied purple lipstick that stuck to my teeth in odd places or a uni-brow; I have managed to look particularly ugly and hideous on numerous occasions.

This post is dedicated to all the masculine and embarrassing stages of my life. And…

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Attack of the Tyrannosaurus in the 21st Century

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One of my biggest obsessions is the T-Rex. T-Rex tees, bottles, puppets, you name it I got it! It all started obviously with Jurassic Park, which is one of my most favourite movies ever. I saw that movie as a child when it first released in Pakistan a couple of years after its original release, even though I was only a few years old then. One of my fondest childhood memories was seeing the Jurassic Park poster plastered over all over the wall of a local cinema and watching cinema and watching all the three movies with my family whenever they made their way to Pakistan’s  movie theaters.  Image The coolest thing about the Tyrannosaurus is that besides being severely handicapped by its tiny arms it’s one of the greatest movie monsters ever. From the moment that you hear the slight thump and the rings in the glass of water you know that some serious carnage is about to happen. I crack up every time I hear a T-Rex joke about it having tiny arms. The image of a Tyrannosaurus making a bed routinely makes me laugh out loud.  Image

My T-Rex obsession may strike most people as odd. I mean what’s there to like about an ugly gigantic lizard which roars and eats people? But to me that’s the best thing I could see on a movie theatre screen. Over the years people around me have learned to indulge my T-Rex obsession and I have gained even more merchandise. I simply love the way in which the T-Rex has come from just being one of the all time favourite movie monster to becoming a popular culture statement.

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And She Knew No More

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By Fatima Ebadat Khan

“Get up! You worthless woman! Get up now!” the drunken shouts of Tehmina’s husband mingled with her terrified, blood curling screams of last night echoed in her ears.
As her eyes snapped open, it took her a minute or two to take in her surroundings. She found herself lying on the cold marble floor, wearing what remained of her already tattered clothes, which were now in shreds.
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Tehmina tried to lift herself up but regretted this almost immediately as this slight movement made every nerve in her body twist and agonizing pain rippled through her body. Screams escaped her lips as she mustered the strength to lift herself from the floor. At once she collapsed onto the hard sofa. Tehmina peered at the blackish – blue bruises that her husband had inflicted upon her in his last night’s fit of rage. Carefully avoiding her face and neck, Asif’s merciless blows and kicks across her body, his ruthless abuses night after night made her feel almost inhuman now. Night after night, his cruelty had turned her into nothing more than a disgusting animal to him and he was her tormenting master.

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“Where is my money? Hand over your salary or I will make you regret you were ever born Tehmina!” he growled at her.
“I do not have it yet Asif! Baji said she would give it to me next week. Please!” She remembered sobbing uncontrollably. But yet again, she could not escape his wrath.
She remembered asking her employer, who she had been working for as a maid in her house for almost three months , a advance on her salary but she had refused. Asif, being unemployed, relied on her to keep the house running. Tehmina was the sole breadwinner for her family of eight. She knew then that when she would arrive home, there would be hell to pay for as she arrived empty handed.
She cautiously stepped into her bare house, where Asif was lounging on the bed. The smell of stale drink coming from him filled the air. The children were clustered around him, dressed in clothes that were either too large or too small for them, given to Tehmina by her employer. She thought of it as a blessing to even have her children clothed. Questions about her salary were her husband’s greeting. She felt his menacing gaze fixed on her as she explained she would not receive it till next week. She sensed his impending murderous anger, as did the children, who hastily scurried away one by one when their father threw the empty bottle of liquor on the floor.

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Tehmina remembered him hurling abuses at her, saying that she was worthless, not worth the dirt on his shoes, with his fists raised, ready to strike. At first her screams and cries were loud enough to make the ground tremble until one sharp blow across her cheek silenced her and she subjected to his constant beating till she became unconscious.
As she lay on the sofa, unable to move anymore, tears streaming down her face, she heard heavy footsteps entering the house. At once, Asif came in the room. It appeared that he had not been home since last night and was holding a bottle that Tehmina assumed to be alcohol. Asif walked up to her helpless form. Early in the morning, she could still smell the fresh drink off him. Little did she know that the worst was yet to come. Looking into her eyes, he threw the bottle of acid on her face and Tehmina knew no more.