And we're now reporting history...
On November 4th, 2008 at exactly 11:04 pm, Jon Stewart, sitting alongside a sad Steven Colbert, announced that Senator Barack Hussein Obama had been elected as the 44th President of the United States of America.
Oh what a great moment it was indeed. It still seems so surreal four days later.
No other U.S. President's victory would have brought on the celebration that was heard around the world. I am honored to have witnessed it. And I am honored to have YOU, Mr. Obama, as MY President.
Please don't let me down. I've had eight years of disappointment. Eight years, man.
The Acceptance
It was a beautiful moment. I was there when a friend received a call from probably one of his interviewers from the medical school. And I was there to witness his shock, speechlessness, and pure joy of knowing in just four shorts years he will be a doctor just as his favorite character from TV, J.D. (of Scrubs). He was thrilled! And then I told everyone because I felt like a proud mother! I remember this kid coming in freshman year all aloof and too cool to associate with the rest of us girls and really getting to know him (finally) my junior year. Who knew I'd be so happy for a friend whom I never thought I'd be friends with to begin with. The entire brown/Muslim population of the university probably knows by now and they are all ECSTATIC for him. Because really, if he hadn't gotten in....none of us would have much hope either haha.
The Death of A President
Benazir Bhutto was pronounced dead at 6:16 pm Islamabad time on December 27th.
I never was a supporter of hers. And I hated it when women supported her simply because she was a female too. However, no person should have suffered the way she did. Her life was painful. Waiting in jail while your father was executed, losing two brothers (possibly committing one brother's death yourself)..... that is painful. I told someone the Bhuttos are the Kennedys of our nation.
But not in the sense, that they brought a great deal of positive change to Pakistan or are people whom I admire.....but in the sense that members of their family keep getting killed.
I pray that in ten years I don't see Bhutto's three children in politics.
In the end, no one should have been murdered like she was. Even though I didn't support her because of the corruption charges against her, I was still saddened by her death. She left behind three children and a nation in mourning.
My Mother's Mother
You passed away at 1 a.m. in Pakistan. It was 2 p.m. here in the U.S., and I was getting ready for my interview for the peer adviser position. I always wondered what it would feel like for a person when their loved one passed away. Would the person feel as if a small part of them flew away? Did my mother feel like that en route to Pakistan? My mother was six hours too late. She arrived at 7 a.m. I wonder if anyone I told you that your daughter was flying in to be my your bedside.
I hope they did.
Because she wanted to be there for you and when I called her when she arrived home, her heart was in pieces. The tears were holding back her words. I hope Mom never regrets her decisions like making sure her children had a good time in NY instead of staying at home and worrying what was happening thousands of miles away and what her brothers and sisters were keeping secret from her.
I know you're going to heaven. You deserve the best seat there. Mom was reminiscing and telling us of stories of how you took such care for her and us. Last December when I saw you, you were marveled at the fact of how much I looked and talked like my mother, your daughter. I was delighted. I love her. I love you. I had a feeling that month that this might be the last time I would ever see you, but I tried to get rid of that awful feeling.
I thought you would live to be the oldest living woman.
You were healthy.
The cancer came as a surprise. Cancer happens to other people. Strangers. People who I don't know. It shouldn't happen to people I know. People I love.
My mother's heart is broken. And so is everyone else's. Everyone is flying to reach home in time to see you off or drive to make it to your funeral. They will all sit in your newly renovated house in the village and cry over you and your memories.
You were a beautiful person, and I'm afraid somewhere down the line, I'll forget how you looked. The way you talked and the things you said. And how you had your signature pose always ready for the camera: one hand propped under your chin.
I hope I never forget.
I Have Nothing to Live For
Ok so maybe the title of this post is a bit much but seriously after the 7th HP book came out on the 21st, I've been stuck between two emotions: utter happiness and grief. Happiness because I've been waiting for this for SO long (since the 4th grade) and grief because there will NEVER be another book written about Harry....well that's what J.K. Rowling has been saying.
The Beginning of the End
The time has come.You can't expect people who have never been ruled by a democratic leader to know what democracy is but maybe...just maybe...the citizens have woken up and taken charge.
Three...two...one! Happy New Year's!
Another year gone by.
A new one has arrived.
Does it even matter?
