A word of caution

Race course park, Lahore is not a spectacular park, by any stretch of imagination (if you posses any at all). However, spectacular places rarely manage to occupy my imagination for too long. I’ve always been more interested in experiencing the subtleties of the mundane and the ordinary. Ordinary things are usually more inexhaustible, perseverant and readily available. So what makes Race Course Park special for me is its presence as a backdrop in many faded events, the memories of whom still linger in my imagination.

Nostalgia is a byproduct of the great fungus that inevitably grows on the faded pictures of the past. We tend to tamper those pictures and paint them in our favorite colors. I am afraid I’m not truly finding the right words to express myself. Let me explain though, by drawing a picture in your minds of what I felt when I walked along, with my former sweetheart, onto the tender grass that grows carelessly onto the fringes of the famous jogging track of the Race course park. It was a finest day of the year, the sun was kind and the sky was gracious, too! But was it really so? In retrospect, June evenings are particularly hot, unpleasant and sultry. But since I felt so overwhelmed on that particular day, you may pardon me for a bit of exaggeration

I hope this fits the poor old race course park in the context well enough. J

My experiences are neither extraordinary nor unique but I do live in an extraordinary city, full of ordinary places and people. It is not the subject/subjects but the experiences that really compel me to write.

I will try to make regular entries and write about those events and people; the presence of those, make Lahore a special city. I will also try to add up images.

One word of caution though. Do not expect me to entirely be truthful for I am just a storyteller.

All the pictures I post here are taken by myself.

(Tuesday, February 05, 2008)

Comments

Marsh said…
I love the picture of the clouds. You should be a photographer. Now Im not saying that there's anything wrong with the way you write. Just that I love the picture, it says more than words do. :)
February 19, 2008 at 6:57 AM
Moz Rauf said…
Thank you! I am a BIT of a photographer :P Amateur though!
February 25, 2008 at 8:17 AM
Nazia Arafat said…
Thank you for the word of caution. In terms of 'real' truth, everything will now be taken with a pinch of salt. : )

I like your analogies. I have never thought of nostalgia as a fungus. I'm still trying to work it around in my head, but I like it. I like the fact that you think nostalgia is something organic .. something alive .. something that grows .. and I also like the aspect that by virtue of being a fungus, there's something more vegetative but LESS alive (but alive, nonetheless) about your nostalgia-fungus than a regular tree or a spider-plant. That's what nostalgia is. You know it's there, and you cn feel it .. but it's very quietly alive and one can actually pass it by and not REALLY notice it. Like you would a mushroom on the ground or on the root of a tree.

You are very consious about reality and your flight from it into the realm of imagination and how far you can stretch its tent-top (Imagination's). You've said it more than once. Is it really such a prominent feature of your work, or are you just being apologetic?

I wish you had given me more stories about mundane subtleties. You ended this one too soon. Just as I was beginning to settle down and get a sense of a withering-leaved summer park. : (
September 11, 2008 at 10:54 AM
Nazia Arafat said…
Saw your comment on my Istanbul blog. It's still under construction. No time to revise my writing!! *Despair*

Anyway, quick response to your comment: WRITE IN URDU, MAN. SERIOUSLY. It's an alienated language today.
October 9, 2008 at 3:36 PM
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