Bi-Polar Karachi
Bi-Polar Karachi is a diary of a girl who at birth was married to a city which soon turned out to not only love her with everything it has, but also drive her insane. It is the rants of a girl who has been madly in love with a city even though the city’s extreme mood swings bring her close to suicide. The city has been personified to be a man suffering from a Bi Polar disorder, someone who switches from being euphoric to sadistic in a matter of seconds. A man who has turned the innocent love of a girl Bi Polar too; she is now stuck between a condition of love and hate, all dependent on what the city has in store for her. Even though this city leaves her exhausted in every possible way, gives her reasons to detest it from the bottom of her heart, the girl’s love for it is so strong that she wouldn’t be anywhere but home.
It’s been twenty two years since I’ve known you; still you never fail to surprise me,
You’re familiar, and comfortable, but then a stranger personality invades you,
Your warmth cuddles me, but that smell of sweat repels me,
In your black and yellow painted sleeves I feel the safest, until your home-dog marks you as his,
Dear Diary, I hate him but I love him, I wouldn’t be with anyone but him.
You’re the calmest when the sun rises; God only knows what Lucifer does as the time passes,
Its bliss as we lie on cloud nine, until you decide to explode in the sky,
Our love is perfect with no restraints, but then you creep in the holy saints,
I can be myself when I’m with you, but the price I pay strips me nude,
Dear Diary, I hate him but I love him, I wouldn’t be with anyone but him.
Your bipolar nature has started to spread like bunnies during winter season,
You say you bow to only One, then you divide your beliefs into little sections,
I love that you collect your babies, and bond for one whole big month,
This love is strong, yes it is, but must you kill and dig your grave?
Dear Diary, I hate him but I love him, I wouldn’t be with anyone but him.
I know you’re brave, and love how you survive the worst,
But I hate it when you run towards the ocean as the tide rises,
I know you hold on to Ghazi,
But I wish not to end our love story with a note saying oh silly.
Dear Diary, I hate him but I love him, I wouldn’t be with anyone but him.
I always tell you, let it out, but you bottle up this humid waste,
You seldom cry but when you do, it’s a pretty sight from inside the room,
So many tears that you rarely shed, they come at once with no escape,
Such saline water collects and stays, for a billion years to block our ways,
Dear Diary, I hate him but I love him, I wouldn’t be with anyone but him.
For every rowdy game we play, you somehow strike me out the same,
You make me tumble and fall each time; you make me waste my precious time,
Then I hate that you completely shut me out, all shutters down, no soul around,
But I’ll thank you for a lazy day, my bed; my blanket is where I stay,
Dear Diary, I hate him but I love him, I wouldn’t be with anyone but him.
Sunday mornings remind me of our first time, the oily sweet smell of a meal so divine,
Fried at the bottom of a steaming hole, the crunch makes me twirl with hope,
A hope that tomorrow will not be enslaved, but here comes my life so well paid,
And before I forget from all the fat, thank you for the meal I need a new pair,
Dear Diary, I hate him but I love him, I wouldn’t be with anyone but him.
I love you for your availability; it almost makes you seem so easy,
My midnight munchies are the booty calls, that never fail to turn you on,
I love how you are open all night, despite the threat it brings to your life,
Your sultriness makes me hate you more, each time I have to run an extra mile,
Dear Diary, I hate him but I love him, I wouldn’t be with anyone but him.
I love that even in your gloomiest nights; you never fail to lose your smile,
You’re full of life; a perpetual shine, then why the spells of dark cries?
Your erratic fits of spontaneous blindness, keep me up all night whining,
But they give me a chance to clear my soul, of all the vents kept on hold,
Dear Diary, I hate him but I love him, I wouldn’t be with anyone but him.
I love your open and oh-so welcoming heart; you always have room for some one more,
You welcome creatures of all kinds, that is why you’ve still kept me in time,
But must you be so drunk on variety? Your intoxication so,starves me for an identity,
It leaves me insecure, uncertain and lost, I feel like I’m losing on what’s left of us,
Dear Diary, I hate him but I love him, I wouldn’t be with anyone but him.
I love your straight paths, the fly-over links; they make us slip in and out with ease,
I love the space that you provide, the thrill and joy of speeding alive,
But then again you stop me dead, by your random fits of holes and dents,
Why can’t you just let us fly smooth? Must you always pause our route?
Dear Diary, I hate him but I love him, I wouldn’t be with anyone but him.
Your upper side is so rich in style, but below the belt it shrinks in life,
I love it when you put me on top, but if I fall the drop it too long,
These polar extremes of your personality are the root of my unrest,
One which calms only with a million slaves to oil and drive the pain away,
Dear Diary, I hate him but I love him, I wouldn’t be with anyone but him.
It’s been so long since we’ve been strong; still your doubts just go on,
Oh so many mothers you have, all looking for the perfect one,
With eagle eyes and vulture intentions, they always manage to hook one up,
I’d hate to fall in their net, but this flattery you throw always gets through,
Dear Diary, I hate him but I love him, I wouldn’t be with anyone but him.
I love your collection of eau de cologne, how each so different yet the same,
You love to surround me with different scents, from sea to food to arthritis pains,
But I dread the days you decide you need, to lather yourself with treasures of thesea,
You say I run away from you, I say I love you but not your fins,
Dear Diary, I hate him but I love him, I wouldn’t be with anyone but him.
I love your imitation talents; you surely put my monkey to shame,
No singer no actor, no song nor film, can escape the rainbow center you made,
So successfully you bring their values down, packed in flimsy cellophane they’re found,
While I write our story I hold a fear within, you might just give birth to its twin,
Dear Diary, I hate him but I love him, I wouldn’t be with anyone but him.
I know your love has no shore; I love the mansion you’ve made for my caretaker,
Each morning on the way to school I see it spread, swallowing more and more in acres,
Three floors below you place my boss; there was no need for such a deed,
I hate that you’ve placed him on such a pedestal; it makes me bleed jealousy,
Dear Diary, I hate him but I love him, I wouldn’t be with anyone but him.
I love how you can talk for hours; the dreamer you are makes me proud,
I hate how you can go on for hours, but play dead when it comes to your part,
I know you picture our future together, but words alone won’t really matter,
All talk and no action only frustrates me, but somehow you manage to make me believe,
Dear Diary, I hate him but I love him, I wouldn’t be with anyone but him.
Sometimes I feel I should breed a generation, of turbans, machines and lots of explosions,
To make you suffer a painful death, or perhaps just kill my own good self,
But your smooth swagger sweeps me off my feet, and there comes a second chance,
I can’t deny my love for you; I leave but I return to you,
You make me cry, you make me smile, but you do it along with me each time,
Your year round mood swings, always keep me on my toes,
You exhaust me off all my love; still I continue to walk with you,
Dear Diary, I hate him but I love him, I wouldn’t be with anyone but him,
Because he is my one and only; my bipolar Karachi.
You’re familiar, and comfortable, but then a stranger personality invades you,
Your warmth cuddles me, but that smell of sweat repels me,
In your black and yellow painted sleeves I feel the safest, until your home-dog marks you as his,
Dear Diary, I hate him but I love him, I wouldn’t be with anyone but him.
You’re the calmest when the sun rises; God only knows what Lucifer does as the time passes,
Its bliss as we lie on cloud nine, until you decide to explode in the sky,
Our love is perfect with no restraints, but then you creep in the holy saints,
I can be myself when I’m with you, but the price I pay strips me nude,
Dear Diary, I hate him but I love him, I wouldn’t be with anyone but him.
Your bipolar nature has started to spread like bunnies during winter season,
You say you bow to only One, then you divide your beliefs into little sections,
I love that you collect your babies, and bond for one whole big month,
This love is strong, yes it is, but must you kill and dig your grave?
Dear Diary, I hate him but I love him, I wouldn’t be with anyone but him.
I know you’re brave, and love how you survive the worst,
But I hate it when you run towards the ocean as the tide rises,
I know you hold on to Ghazi,
But I wish not to end our love story with a note saying oh silly.
Dear Diary, I hate him but I love him, I wouldn’t be with anyone but him.
I always tell you, let it out, but you bottle up this humid waste,
You seldom cry but when you do, it’s a pretty sight from inside the room,
So many tears that you rarely shed, they come at once with no escape,
Such saline water collects and stays, for a billion years to block our ways,
Dear Diary, I hate him but I love him, I wouldn’t be with anyone but him.
For every rowdy game we play, you somehow strike me out the same,
You make me tumble and fall each time; you make me waste my precious time,
Then I hate that you completely shut me out, all shutters down, no soul around,
But I’ll thank you for a lazy day, my bed; my blanket is where I stay,
Dear Diary, I hate him but I love him, I wouldn’t be with anyone but him.
Sunday mornings remind me of our first time, the oily sweet smell of a meal so divine,
Fried at the bottom of a steaming hole, the crunch makes me twirl with hope,
A hope that tomorrow will not be enslaved, but here comes my life so well paid,
And before I forget from all the fat, thank you for the meal I need a new pair,
Dear Diary, I hate him but I love him, I wouldn’t be with anyone but him.
I love you for your availability; it almost makes you seem so easy,
My midnight munchies are the booty calls, that never fail to turn you on,
I love how you are open all night, despite the threat it brings to your life,
Your sultriness makes me hate you more, each time I have to run an extra mile,
Dear Diary, I hate him but I love him, I wouldn’t be with anyone but him.
I love that even in your gloomiest nights; you never fail to lose your smile,
You’re full of life; a perpetual shine, then why the spells of dark cries?
Your erratic fits of spontaneous blindness, keep me up all night whining,
But they give me a chance to clear my soul, of all the vents kept on hold,
Dear Diary, I hate him but I love him, I wouldn’t be with anyone but him.
I love your open and oh-so welcoming heart; you always have room for some one more,
You welcome creatures of all kinds, that is why you’ve still kept me in time,
But must you be so drunk on variety? Your intoxication so,starves me for an identity,
It leaves me insecure, uncertain and lost, I feel like I’m losing on what’s left of us,
Dear Diary, I hate him but I love him, I wouldn’t be with anyone but him.
I love your straight paths, the fly-over links; they make us slip in and out with ease,
I love the space that you provide, the thrill and joy of speeding alive,
But then again you stop me dead, by your random fits of holes and dents,
Why can’t you just let us fly smooth? Must you always pause our route?
Dear Diary, I hate him but I love him, I wouldn’t be with anyone but him.
Your upper side is so rich in style, but below the belt it shrinks in life,
I love it when you put me on top, but if I fall the drop it too long,
These polar extremes of your personality are the root of my unrest,
One which calms only with a million slaves to oil and drive the pain away,
Dear Diary, I hate him but I love him, I wouldn’t be with anyone but him.
It’s been so long since we’ve been strong; still your doubts just go on,
Oh so many mothers you have, all looking for the perfect one,
With eagle eyes and vulture intentions, they always manage to hook one up,
I’d hate to fall in their net, but this flattery you throw always gets through,
Dear Diary, I hate him but I love him, I wouldn’t be with anyone but him.
I love your collection of eau de cologne, how each so different yet the same,
You love to surround me with different scents, from sea to food to arthritis pains,
But I dread the days you decide you need, to lather yourself with treasures of thesea,
You say I run away from you, I say I love you but not your fins,
Dear Diary, I hate him but I love him, I wouldn’t be with anyone but him.
I love your imitation talents; you surely put my monkey to shame,
No singer no actor, no song nor film, can escape the rainbow center you made,
So successfully you bring their values down, packed in flimsy cellophane they’re found,
While I write our story I hold a fear within, you might just give birth to its twin,
Dear Diary, I hate him but I love him, I wouldn’t be with anyone but him.
I know your love has no shore; I love the mansion you’ve made for my caretaker,
Each morning on the way to school I see it spread, swallowing more and more in acres,
Three floors below you place my boss; there was no need for such a deed,
I hate that you’ve placed him on such a pedestal; it makes me bleed jealousy,
Dear Diary, I hate him but I love him, I wouldn’t be with anyone but him.
I love how you can talk for hours; the dreamer you are makes me proud,
I hate how you can go on for hours, but play dead when it comes to your part,
I know you picture our future together, but words alone won’t really matter,
All talk and no action only frustrates me, but somehow you manage to make me believe,
Dear Diary, I hate him but I love him, I wouldn’t be with anyone but him.
Sometimes I feel I should breed a generation, of turbans, machines and lots of explosions,
To make you suffer a painful death, or perhaps just kill my own good self,
But your smooth swagger sweeps me off my feet, and there comes a second chance,
I can’t deny my love for you; I leave but I return to you,
You make me cry, you make me smile, but you do it along with me each time,
Your year round mood swings, always keep me on my toes,
You exhaust me off all my love; still I continue to walk with you,
Dear Diary, I hate him but I love him, I wouldn’t be with anyone but him,
Because he is my one and only; my bipolar Karachi.