Now, doesn't that sound like an interesting topic for a ch'haar darwesh story? My posts may not be ch'har darwesh stories, but they are ambitious attempts nontheless. The title, I would think then, is apt. The CD stories are seldom containable in one post, or tome. At least, they always present that growth potential, and one ought to be optimistic about these matters, hence the "1". This "1" implies a lot more than it says. It tells you that the author takes it upon himself to help you manage your time better, and so will not be burdening you with the complete details just yet. It also asks you to make a mental note to come back again - for, for every thing that has a volume 1, it is implicit that there will at least be a volume "2", if not more. Thirdly, it makes it binding on the writer to keep his mental faculties operational by telling him that he might be in for a marathon rather than a 100m.

I am not very good at diary like posts, and often end up typing out lines after lines of boredom, as might have been guaged by discerning readers by now. Not that I think my non-diary posts are any better, but at least they do not imply that I am a boring old man with a boring penchant for boredom. At least, they do not advertise ...

Wait a minute! Where is all this going...?

Do you see now what I mean? I am talented enough to destroy the promise of a perfectly nice title. Well, not today. Not now. Hopefully, not often.

It has been an interesting day, and I have decided to try and see if I can manage to reflect that here... The day was interesting because of the three people, whose names give this post its title. They made a perfectly (read painfully) average day great, and I dedicate this post, and quite possibly some to follow, to them.

Let us start with Madi. Madi isn't pronounced the way it is written. It is pronounced the way it is not written. I guess, if it were to be spelled the way it is pronounced, it would be spelled Muddee - not with the "d" of mud, but with the "d" of Urdu dada, or Russian "Da", or for that matter the Arabic "d". Yeah that's right, the last one fits it very well.

Now with the pronounciation out of the way, let me tell you that Madi is the name of one of those courageous men, who chose to be friends with this imbecile many years ago, and have since stood by their decision, come what may. He was here from Karachi on some training course being conducted by his hot shot company, and we managed to meet up a couple of times to catch up on old times. Old times happen to be the 16 months we'd spent together in PCBA back in 1997-98.

There was a lot going for us then. All the nice, pretty and beautiful girls (are there any other kind?) were falling for Madi, and I was going around proposing to each of them. Actually, I got to them with my proposals, even before Madi got around to getting them to fall for him. The worst part is he just had to be there, and be the gentleman he is, to make them fall for him. The best part is not one girl accepted my proposal. Best for them girls that is. All this, when he was just half a kilo heavier than me. It did not matter what weight I was, he was always half a kilo heavier than me. I had a theory. He had this full sand-papery shave even back then, and that was the half a kilo of difference. Either that, or he did not cut his nails. Given a choice between the two, he would inevitably be more agreeable to the former option. Why? Beats me.

We found out we were on the same wavelength during our study sessions. It would often transpire that we would get together at his place for joint study. We would agree to meet at something like 8 p.m. and be through with our thorough understanding of the topic/assignment at 2:00 a.m latest. 8:00 p.m. used to be the time I would get to his home from my hostel. After having seen the latest episode of Alpha, Bravo, Charlie, we would let his mother treat us to a scrumptious dinner, and then proceed post haste to his room sporting studious looks as well as attitude. The time by then would often have whizzed past us to 10:00 p.m. The books would be opened quickly, but before we even got started with the first topic, we would drift into either a story from his past or mine. After, the first three sessions, it used to be only his stories, since I did not have very many left in the bag by then. The first break would come with tea and snacks at midnight, after which we would often agree that we were running short on time, and needed to focus on the task on hand. The task on hand would often be an impending exam, or imminent presentation.

This is how the first five minutes of study would go at 12:35 a.m ...

Madi: Oh, this is the one. I remember the teacher (names vary) had explained it with this analogy.
Me: Oh, yeah, and look here, these are Bilal's notes from the classroom... and didn't Felicity raise this point in the same case.
Madi: Oh yeah. See, this is how it applies to problem no.1... (followed by 30 seconds for explanation).
Me: Hmmm... the next ten problems/slides look the same.
Madi: They do? Show me...
Me: Yes.
Madi: Yes, they do.
Me: That takes care of half the chapter.
Madi: (Looking at the wall clock) We are still running behind schedule.

So, we would repeat the above five minutes for the rest of the chapter.

Madi: There, now we are ahead of schedule. Just need to get powerpoint ready. Shall we take a break.

I would give my consent, and we would drift back into Madi's stories and my poetry. At 2:00 a.m. we would realize that we had fallen behind schedule, and so would get down to work. By 3:00 a.m. the "work" would be finished, and we would be worried about getting up late in the morning. Madi would often suggest that he could skip shaving, and I could skip brushing in case we woke up late - or we could both skip washing our faces with soap, which would translate into massive savings in soap and water over the next 3349 years. However, in case we were running really late, we could always skip tying the laces on our shoes, and he would also not lock the car. So satisfied with our time management feat, we would stay up another half hour, and would be woken up five minutes later by his mother just in time for our half hour trips to bathrooms.

Upon reaching college, we would run to Felicity and ask her if she had studied anything the past night, and she would tell us that she had. In evidence thereof she would tell us the story of the latest John Grisham novel, or a review of the latest movie she had seen the last night. We would then send her into depression by telling her that we had been up till 4:00 a.m preparing. The grades were always the same, Madi and I would score in the high eighties, and Felicity in high nineties. We hated her. We did all the hard work while she watched movies and read novels, and she always got better grades.

Anyway, Madi was here, and we were meeting after over two years. In the meanwhile, he had got married, and had been blessed with an angel. Reminiscing was fun, and meeting after such a long time was even more fun. Hope you can make it for a longer period next time, ol' friend.

If I do not go to bed now, no amount of skipping will help me in the morning... So, Jospeh and Mansoor who made the rest of my day special shall have to wait till the next post to find mention....

Yaaaaawn! Shab Bakhair.