Friday, November 23


Trip is less then a week ahead, I am really looking forward of it, though I have no clue of what to expect, though I expect to have fun... I can at least reassure myself of having a good time with Nanz. So much to do before that... :-s

Besides from that, my parents have decided to call me by “Bushra” again, an attempt of Ammu from when I was four. As she wasn’t much fond of the name Shakia (given by Abbu) so she gave me an unregistered “middle name”. The Bushra period lasted about a year or so, but leaving some marks, precisely leaving two family friends calling me that even now. Recently my mum spoke to one of them and the name Bushra is back on my parent’s lips. My dad is suggesting me to change my name to Bushra S. Khan, according to him “it might bring changes in me”. It’s like chopping off my heart and putting someone else’s in my body.
All these years I’ve been in frustration with my name, people give me the looks by reading/saying Shakia. Times when always a long silence came before uttering my name, which was often pronounced wrong. And having at least a 5 minutes discussion about it. For some reason my name has been a beginning for great conversations with strangers.
After Shakira got into MTV, people started to call me Shakira than Chiqita (don’t ask me, but yes there have been people calling me that).
But now I love my name more than anything, it’s who I am.

Friday, November 9

Ode to my Old Xanga account: Sifar

What I hate the most, is whenever I come back to my Xanga I can't sit and read my former posts. Because of some certain person has erased it. I hate that 3 years of my life was so easy to erase, just by clicking delete. I hate that I was stupid enough to trust.

Sometimes I do wonder what I wrote or what I was thinking, maybe there were times in my life where the current I can't remember of. Even though it was texts, still it feels like a part of me just vanished. Does it sound corny when I say I miss my old Xanga account? Even after 3 years?