Isle of Skye

Follow your heart By Muhammad Omar Iftikhar 26 July, 2008 “… So, what’s the scope?” I hear this question a lot whenever people ask me what I’m doing nowadays and I reply “MBA in media management”. And every time I’m asked “Why media management, what’s the scope?” I don’t reply in the usual way; that the media is booming or I would join the print media or an advertising agency. No! I simply say that “Every man makes his own scope — not his degree gives him the scope, or the system he’s living in.” I normally get a cold stare from the person asking me all this but I remain cool, calm and collected. This “scope” has become a predominating factor in our educational system. Students thoroughly investigate the scope of their choices they have for their professional education and then select the best one, not on the basis of their highest preference, but rather on the basis of its scope — the one that’ll give them a handsome six figure salary, company paid petrol and other benefits. People ar...

Sometimes I know that I isolate myself for no good reason. Like tonight. There's a family dinner at a restaurant; I had a case of the runs in the morning and have somewhat recovered from it. But I just don't want to go- either because of the lame conversation or the carnivorous food. And so I am staying at home, until I fall asleep. Of course, dinner is at 10, so at least I have one redeeming fact. I can't believe that I'm coming to the conclusion that my dad's part in my becoming this unbearable neurotic was much more insidious than it seems on the surface. You'd think us being in two different continents would keep this bond weak. But he's the one who forced me to take Accounting at A Level (which I dropped halfway because I just could NOT understand the damned theories and formulae) - I ended up taking English and Psychology. Fair enough. Six years down the road, I make the same mistake of 'wanting' to become a teacher because he said that's w...

I know for sure that I am not part of this world and shall never be more than an honorary member, till I go back to my home planet. But I've got to realise that everyone else whom I know is from this world, and they therefore do things according to the various lifestyles and convictions and earthly laws that they comprehend. Valuing them according to my own inner moral compass or Weltanshauung is completely out of order. How long have I known them for? Three weeks, 8 months, a year, even 10 - does it matter how long I've known them for? They are the same strangers today as they were when I first met them - their lives have gone on their own winding paths, while I've lived inside of my brain all of the time. So how can I claim to be wise or a sage and just 'know' things about them which is just not true? Trying out the suit of an Artisan, trying to be centre of attention or something, I suppose. If you disapprove, okay. Do something about it - stop being their frie...

“Most people are other people. Their thoughts are someone else’s opinions, their lives a mimicry, their passions a quotation.” —Oscar Wilde “The tragedy of life doesn’t lie in not reaching your goal. The tragedy lies in having no goal to reach.” —Benjamin E. Mays “The greatest crime in the world is not developing your potential. When you do what you do best, you are helping not only yourself, but the world.” —Roger Williams I get the feeling that nobody reads my blog anymore, except for me, of course. Now, is that a good thing or a bad thing? Come on, who has the time to read ramblings of the insane, except other people with faaltu time on their hands. At least I don't know anyone like that! Sauf que moi. And atleast I've gotten over getting over Umair. It took less time than I thought. Phew. But I doubt I have matured. As I said, ramblings of the insane.

Dublin Sky Darren Hayes I've been down a lonely street tonight And I don't know what's wrong with me I don't know what's wrong with me The clouds cover up the Dublin sky I don't know what's left of me I don't know what's right with me And I've tried to keep my distance And I've sung Amazing Grace I've tarnished all our memories But there'll always be a trace of you Of you I remember laughing on that river's edge Trying to get you to jump with me Trying to get you to fall for me And your trembling heart it beat so fast Holdings hands you promised me Holding hands we counted to three And I felt your slipping fingers And I saw you change your mind If I hadn't dragged you in with me You would have let me dive without you Without you They sent you all the way from Hollywood And maybe that Dublin sky was changing you It put diamonds in your eyes I always thought we were going to make it through But I w...

I've got to do good things, appropriate things. I've got to value myself as a worthwhile person. I've got thank God for giving me this time to recuperate - imagine having to keep a job or a study place full time when going through this. London has really become a shit place; I'm beginning to see nothing but flaws: the leadership, the food, the expenses, the rundown areas, the poverty, the knife and gun crime, the dipsomania, the unfriendly and racist and somehow aimless populace, the unnerving speed of it all. It's definitely not so much of an INFP's paradise. Something will come up - it has to. Just gain in your strength. Gain the strength. Gain the faith and the belief and the peace.

I can't find anything I want to do. I've been trawling through all the reasonable MA courses for someone like me and they all sound revolting. Translation and Interpretation, Speech and Language Therapy, Teaching, Literature of the 18th Century. 10,000 word dissertations. I can't believe that I'm not truly an academic. I can't believe that my academic career will end at a measly BA. As for volunteer/internship ops, most are for teaching, one is for the OUP but they need a CV and all of them are either in Defence or Clifton. I don't have the car/can't have it for a 9-5 job. What the ruddy hell am I to do? Why did they (my parents) have to spawn such a hell's reject? I have no bloody aspirations whatsoever. I only had them a long time ago, and that was the usual drivel: teaching, journalist, author. That was before I realised I would need some ability, experience, talent and willingness to go through a lot of shite. I mean, I can't even write a s...

INFPs present a calm, pleasant face to the world and are seen as reticent and even shy. Although they demonstrate a cool reserve toward others, inside they are anything but distant. They have a capacity for caring which is not always found in other types. They care deeply – indeed, passionately – about a few special persons or a cause. One word that captures this type is idealistic. At times, this characteristic leaves them feeling isolated, especially since INFPs are found in only 1 percent of the general population. INFPs have a profound sense of honor derived from internal values. INFP’s seek unity in their lives, unity of body and mind, emotions and intellect. The deep commitment of INFPs to the positive and the good causes them to be alert to the negative and the evil, which can take the form of a fascination with the profane. INFPs prefer the valuing process over the purely logical. They respond to the beautiful versus the ugly, the good versus the bad, and the moral versus t...

Driftwood Travis Everything is open Nothing is set in stone Rivers turn to ocean Oceans tide you home Home is where your heart is But your heart had to roam Drifting over bridges Never to return Watching bridges burn You're driftwood floating into pieces pieces pieces Just driftwood hollow and of no use Waterfalls will find you bind you grind you Nobody is an island Everyone has to go Pillars turn to butter Butterflying low Low is where your heart is But your heart has to grow Drifting under bridges Never with the flow And you really didn't think it would happen But it really is the end of the line So I'm sorry that you turned to driftwood But you've been drifting for a long long time Everywhere there's trouble Nowhere's safe to go Pushes turn to shovels Shovelling the snow Frozen you have chosen The path you wish to go Drifting now forever And forever more Until you reach your shore You're driftwood floating underwater Breaking into pieces pieces pieces Jus...

I wrote this letter last year and Professor Martin replied within two days, which is a new record for him, I believe! He just doesn't know how heartfelt my gratitude is for his answer. I would have gone crazy trying to push myself into a teaching career I didn't want. I am posting this up here to remind me that my path is not wrong, just different from all the others I know of. I'll make it somehow, I'll become a process and not a static being. "Hi Prof Martin, I'm in London, safe and sound. The reason why I am writing to you is that I received a phone call from York's Faculty of Education on Friday telling me that a spot in the consecutive programme has opened up and they are considering me for it. I have till Monday to reply. The thing is, I was quite contented NOT to have been accepted into the programme because I do not feel that teaching is a profession I would really enjoy. At least, not at this phase in my life: straight out of uni, extremely "g...