waves of nostalgia

As I roll in my bed I look at my cell phones display and find out that its 4.10 AM. As the warm hug of the sleep goddess moves ever so far from me I decide to open up my laptop. By now its 4.15 AM and unintentionally I open up word. Basically having no idea of what I intend to do at this hour my mind drift into wilderness and waves and waves of nostalgia just start to pour in.
Taking a pause, lost in the old memories not knowing why on earth I am remembering or still remember these memories. The first thing that hits my mind is my dad taking me to Islamabad’s zoo on his bike. Unable to type in this posture I change position. Much better, so where was I, ah! Yes the bike. Asking my dad to ride it fast and my dad obliging to my insane request. Sweet days, I used to get what ever I wanted, its stil the same but now it takes time. Anyway all of a sudden my mind flips and I remember long forgotten friends. Friends from F-8/4, the guys I haven’t meet in approx 9 years. Playing a lot of basketball with them, un able to dribble properly but still being able to shoot a perfect 3 pointer and practicing the half court throw.
My memories change again and I remember the wedding I attended at some place in F-7 markaz a.k.a Jinnah Super when I was 7 or 8. The nans were finished and the waiters started to serve milky bread. On our way back my chacha blaming the organizers for doing a lousy job. Still on weddings my chacha’s wedding was amazing. The fireworks. the mehndi. The food. Every thing was perfect.
Ahhh my mind is going nuts. All of a sudden I start humming the tune of the song I once adored. Music the food of soul. Always wanted to be a famous singer like Michael Jackson but my dreams were crushed way back in grade 4 when my teacher told me ay a music audition that I have a horrible singing voice, never lost hope and about 4 years back I pulled off my first and last solo. It never made it on air but I made sure that my friends over the globe lend an ear to it.
Speaking of friends from across the globe I find myself sitting in Mr. Shan’s physics class swearing out loud at asela bond 009. Mr. Shan the best physics teacher that I ever came across. Playing football at gateways basketball court with the un official joke society of our class and by total fluke kicking a banana kick and wowing every one by my skills. Playing snooker at shooters, potluck and a couple of other places that I cant remember.
My first traffic accident at bajra mandi when I goy hit by a Suzuki bolan. Don’t remember much about it but what I remember is that I was not knocked out cold. Watching my younger cousin got hit by a car and seeing him falling after a small flight. The car driver running away and my dad and uncles following him, what I heard was that they beat the #$@% out of that driver. Maybe he deserved it. The first ethnic clash I saw in G7, the christians shooting down 2 guys from our street and one christian trying to injure one with a sword.
My buddy Fahad who recently passed away. Still can’t believe that he’s no longer between Us. May Allah rest his soul in eternal peace.
The memories that always bring a tear in my eyes are the times I spent with my NANA JAN and NANI JAN. May Allah rest there souls in eternal peace as well.
Still remembering stuff from the past. TPS! It will remain an urban myth. The best script ever written, that I co wrote with a good friend.
I look at the time and its 5 AM. Still can type for hours but my machine is not charged and I think I should try to hug the sleep goddess.