Geographically challenged son. Born in that part of the planet, whose weather does not suit him. Flu is ever green; the sneezes keep coming all year round. Winters mean difficulty in breathing. Asthma. Early morning, and late night, the lungs keep wheezing.
Things have actually changed for the better over the last two days. I have seized my one month vacation in favour of a course in Geographical Information System. It appears that I don’t need that ‘much needed’ rest; the one advised for, after extended periods of work.
Extended period of work. Sixty days of rigorous examinations. Two months of high intensity, selfish work. Its interesting how the otherwise chatterboxes, the sport-freak, and the book-haters, are left with no choice but to study intensely for two long months. And these are those people who would swear that, “Studies. I hate them.”, or the more apt, “Engineering sucks.”, and for some, even, “I am more interested in photography.”
Plot. A grand heinous plot to push unwilling students to the wall. Make them study.
Three, two. one, zero.
Back to me. Yes, the exams have been unending, but they have not been tiring. My friends (although I prefer the more accurate: classmates), have been bombarding me with texts, mails and calls, trying to instil fear and anxiety within me, for the exam season. They are burning with anxiety, while I take a chill pill; watch ‘The Social Network', three times over; create, design and popularise a blog for my sister; help Ma in the kitchen; play a few cricket matches. Sleep, wake up, and then sleep some more.
The only thing I didn’t do, or should I say, that I wasn’t successful in doing was the creation of a logo. Under normal circumstances, the creative me is able to create an appealing, yet effective logo every month. I drew a few sketches whenever the numericals, the equations, or the test topics got boring. Yet, all I got in the end were some embarrassing scribblings of old ideas trying to look new.
The good news is that the draught has just ended, and I managed to milk something out of that artist living in one corner of the old, heartless, and predictable mind.
Geographical information system. That is where we started from. Life’s taken a positive turn ever since I joined the GIS workshop. The asthma, the flus, or those xyz pains cropping up after that abc ache, have all ended. At times, it feels like AIDS: acquired immuno-deficiency. One illness after the other. Or maybe, I am just listening too much into my body; a slight twitch in one part of the body should not be diagnosed as an illness. Billions of cells in the body. At any given instant, all of them can’t be in perfect condition; probability. Physiological probability.
And then I have coined a theory: the more frequently sick you get, the prettier you become. (I am fond of pushing in new theories into the media, then double checking them; taking my words back, or putting down new laws.)
Geographical information system. Ever since the course, the Arificial vitality has returned.
So what have I got, for a change. I wake up early in the morning. Sleep’s over at seven, and I am out of bed by eight. My mother is usually sipping tea at this time, and has to reluctantly rise, and make breakfast for me. She’s a perfectionist. Her breakfast is the best in the world, but we only get them on the occasional, lucky days.
Its a cold morning, but I am brave, as I look for ward to the steaming hot bath. I usually overdo this shower, and hence arrive late for the GIS session. Just 20 minutes late. I am thinking of placing a watch in the bathroom. Timed shower. That’s more like it.
We are a team of three in the GIS workshop; the three idiots, actually two idiots. Usama’s good at mapping, while Rizwan and I suck at finding places on the map; the map of Karachi.
Accident data for Karachi, (and for us, specifically Sadr Town), is given in Address form. Say, Fatal accident at Avari Hotel, Sadr Town. We have to find that location on Google earth, and note down the exact coordinates of the accident, into an excel sheet.
Simple, but boring.
Everybody else was typing in the Geographical coordinates manually. I created a a program that did the work, automatically. That is what computers are meant to do. Everybody was so envious. They were in awe. Just press a button, and voila. Rizwan was proud of me.
Every time we had to note down the coordinates, Rizwan would begin with, “In the name of God, . .. . . “, and then hit the magic button. It felt like such an Al-Qaeda project.
But we suck at maps. So, Rizwan and I only managed to note down sixty accidents, working all day. Usama was absent today. He was receiving his brother; returning from Germany, completing a his Bachelor’s degree in Mechatronics. Whatever that is?
A strange friend?
On facebook, have befriended this stranger, Ali Sheikh. He had reqeusted to be friends. The online world is such a paradoxical, fishy place. Now, this person is peculiar. The name clearly makes him a male, but he says that he is a female. Ooops, she says that, she is a male. And then this stranger friend drops funny comments under my statuses, and today, sends me a message: “Are you online .”
Probably, its a boy, trying to be funny on facebook. I don’t mind that, since I take facebook to be a fun place. Pranksters don’t annoy me.
AboutArif Samoon is a Junior Design Engineer at Techno Consult International. He completed his Bachelors in Urban and infrastructure engineering, from NED University in 2011. He loves his digital presence. Loves to code, write, and design.