“Ladies and gentlemen, we are now beginning our descent into Quaid-e-Azam International Airport....Cabin crew, take your positions for landing”.
These words are music to my ears. Utter bliss.
Truth is, however, that one persons bliss can be another persons ‘Blah.’
The concept of pleasure, despite its text book definition, varies from person to person.
Let me explain. For many, it is a pleasurable concept to escape the grime, dust and pollution of Karachi city. For me, leaving this chaos stricken city is not pleasure but a gut-wrenching exercise in wifely duty.
My most recent stint involved following my Sohailio to the Pacific North West with the result that now I am now rain drenched and dangerously lacking in Vitamin D.
Image credits - Zeinab Masud
I crave the smog infested skies of my sparkling Karachi.
And sparkle it does, despite smog and all. The rays of sunlight in this city by the sea are deeply resilient – much like my Karachi itself. They cut through the crappy grey smog and wash the city in warm splashes of sunlight.
Karachi in December with its mild winter warmth is a treat.
Yet, I feeI there is a difference this time around. I will explain why.
I’ve learnt to understand and more significantly to embrace new concepts of pleasure. As circumstances change, so do needs and so does the awareness of what makes us happy: ‘the shifting sands of pleasure’ as I like to call them.
While it is crucial to be able to reinvent oneself as the landscape around us changes, it is equally important to be aware of what is now going to give us pleasure, given the fluid changes at hand.
Where do we now find happiness?
Once upon a time, what made me happy were cozy afternoons spent chuckling with my lovely Mummy. We played Scrabble, she dealt a mean hand for a game of bridge and then we zoomed off, Mummy at the wheel, to have a cup of tea with a much-loved cousin or aunt.
Editing a monthly magazine in a dusty, decrepit old building off Chundrigar Road bought me joy. As did the unending cups of coffee in Belgian cafes during college years where warm firesides cast a soft glow over conversations that flowed long into the night.
Pleasure was also a fat book with a threadbare spine and chilli chips on the side.
But with the passage of time, things change as do our sources of pleasure.
Mummy is not here anymore and my editing days in a smoke-filled newspaper building seem very far away. I’m not sure where the lovingly read, worn out books have gone, I can’t digest chilli chips anymore and the cafes in Bruxelles are a distant memory.
Some sources of pleasure have continued through the years.
There are still vibrant conversations with inspiring friends, relationships which stretch across different parts of the world, from warm continents to cold countries. Friendships with people of different colours, different beliefs but a common chord of intelligence, humour and compassion.
While I’ve always taken out time to nurture old bonds, I must admit I thrive on meeting new people. A new heart and mind, unexplored vistas. Yummy!
Over the years, circumstances changed. Countries changed, my patience level changed as did my weight (the latter two for the worse.)
The passing of years also bought a change of relationship status. I got married. There now occurred a fascinating shift in the art of social engagement.
When you get married as late as I did, you get used to socialising on your own, making and choosing friends on your own terms and truly I loved this to the hilt.
I chose wisely and I treasure my close friends, holding them close to my heart.
Once in a while I’m also OK with hanging out with a bunch of people with radically different perspectives, I’m fine with some crazy giggles and gup shup.
After all, people energy is a wonderful thing.
Hubby dearest doesn’t warm up to people so easily. He has a few good, loyal friends and a killer sense of humour but he doesn’t like to spread himself too thin.
So anything more than five people at dinner is a cause for stress. He creates the stress and I try and mop it up.
It started at our wedding, I wanted four hundred, he wanted twenty. We settled for something close to my number. Throughout the wedding reception, he took turns looking threatening and woe-begone alternately.
Fortunately Dad had dinner served early (I think he wanted to make sure that the Rukhsati happened and I didn’t make a run for it) so Hubby’s social angst was also lightened, thanks to Beach Luxury’s prompt Buffet service.
He was all smiley as he shook hands with the guests to say good bye, I think he was just happy to be getting out of there.
As I got to explore the mind and heart of my Sohailio, I found that he could make me laugh, make me think and keep me thoroughly entertained.
However I also found that social occasions were no longer the easy, breezy events they used to be. There are some friends whom Hubby finds it easy to relax with but there are many out there who do not bring out the essential calm in him.
This lack of calm can swing from a murderous glint in his normally warm brown eyes to intellectual angst.
In times of sweet contemplation he has suggested to me that I don’t expose him to too many people, it’s safer that way. I do go along with this suggestion...for a while. Then the social bird in me starts to sing again and I find myself lured into some kind of soiree, lunch, dinner or in between.
If it’s the folks that he’s comfortable with, then we do OK.
But if its new faces and unfamiliar spaces then Hubby can look irate or in the best case scenario, look sleepy due to intense boredom. There have been instances of people relating their life stories with great dramatic flair and Hubbs has been spotted suppressing a yawn (but that’s another story).
If truth be told, I’ll take the sleep issues over the barely concealed annoyance any day.
So how has this affected ‘the shifting sands of pleasure’ in my life?
Marriage has meant less social fervour and so I’ve discovered new sources of joy.
While my one on one interactions were always deeply rewarding, there was a time when a huge New Years eve event or the Sind Club ball were just not missable and now they seem like things of a very distant past. My sweet Sohailio, aware of this change of lifestyle has been rather passionately trying to make amends and take me to one of the big events of the season. I am touched. Touched because I know that he’s doing it just for me.
Pleasure is also about doing for the other and trying to break out of one’s comfort zone. Pleasurable, not because one aspires to be saintly but because you know that the other is worth it.
And sometimes this faith in another can lead you to explore worlds you never imagined living in. New sources of pleasure to be discovered. That’s what happened when I moved across the world to Seattle, the out-door gal’s paradise.
It’s all about hiking, biking and discovering the great green outdoors. There has been very little about me that has been out-doorsy so far. My idea of fun has been music, friends, cafes, board games, good books, trashy magazines, movies and scintillating dialogues in dark, smokey crowded cafes. Some philosophy and poetry thrown in for good measure. Yes, that’s been the high.
So imagine my arrival in breathtakingly beautiful Seattle. When it’s not raining, the sky is a perfect turquoise blue and the emerald green trees stand in perfect symmetry. A salute to the perfection of nature.
Mount Rainier on a sunny day can be spotted in its snow capped glory from the farthest part of the city and one can go skiing just one hour out of the busy city limits. Fun in Seattle involves relentless sporty activities.
Initially this was enough to freak me out in a big, bad way. The friendly neighbour across the hall would come knocking and suggest a hike. Then one of the school mums suggested a bike ride. I had to confess that I didn’t know how to ride a bike and I had had training wheels till the age of thirteen after which I gave up trying to learn.
The scenic beauty of Seattle involves both the sea and the mountains. So skiing aside, there are water sports galore. I had to admit that I cannot swim.
So there I was, the quintessential indoor girl, pining for life in New York city or Karachi, caught in a mesmerising haze of natural beauty and nature related pursuits.
Initially I was indignant and drowned my sorrows at the Starbucks across from our apartment. This drowning of sorrow led to caffeine induced stomach mayhem, my colon went nuts so visits to Starbucks had to stop.
And then slowly but surely I began to tap into new sources of pleasure.
On snow capped mountains, I felt the thrill of tubing, soaring through icy snow, the crazy chill waking up emotions I didn’t even know I had. I’ve learnt to enjoy long walks through soft drizzle or better yet long strides when the sun is out and Seattle is drenched in green and gold tipped glory.
I’ve found the solace in a quieter life and used it to my advantage. Its given me room to reflect, to write to tap into dormant ideas which were perhaps too scared to come out into the crowded energy of a previous life style.
And this has been pleasurable. Previously untapped sources of joy.
Truth is that a leap of faith, be it in your partner or in the potential of a new place or most significantly in oneself can lead one to territories totally unexplored.
Power resides in the ability to grow with our possibilities. To have faith despite our fears, despite our attachments to our earlier passions.
Rolling through the snow can be exhilirating.
The crisp mountain air was my wake up call. There is so much out there.
