The Defarge-Marner Hypothesis

Normally, people would find it strange to use famous literary works to find a causal relation between people who like to knit and crotchet, and possible psychological reasons for their doing so.

Of course, another reason as to why people would find it idiotic to even consider passions for knitting and crocheting as being compulsions to counter vehement obsessions due to ups and downs in everyday life, is because they could simply be normal pass-times which the said individual developed an affinity for due to having the necessary skills for it.

First and foremost, let us consider the possibility that most people would find crotchet and knitting patterns as somewhat time-consuming, or in the worst-possible scenario: an element that could lead to a rise in their blood pressure levels due to its apparent complexity.

Here is one such example:

Pre-shot of Eustace before he blows up while trying to desperately sew with a needle

Well, there were other factors present in the fictional setting for this event, so it's not exactly the particular task which resulted in our beloved character's explosion. However, it can be put into consideration that sewing/knitting/crocheting isn't as much of a catch as compared to playing with Lego blocks or doing outdoor photography in order to relieve yourself.

Yes, it requires patience. A lot of patience, to be precise. Question is, how do you get it?

And, that brings me to my cleverly devised hypothesis after browsing once more through two of my favorite reads: A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens (most of you are probably fans of this one) and Silas Marner by George Eliot (her work, you probably haven't even checked out, unless you are a die-hard classical literature fan like me).

See, there were two intriguing characters from both these novels who were into the whole knitting thing. And yes, I know that crocheting and knitting are two separate things, but in all due fairness; they are similar to quite a great extent. Let me explain; they both require the employment of a needle to be pushed in and out of a cloth in order to create a product, and because we all agree that needles are dangerous to play with, therefore, we also agree that even doing such a kind of activity for fun requires absolute caution and patience; something the mind needs to be well-prepared for.

Well, voila! The Defarge-Marner hypothesis. Here is a description of both characters that could help put in perspective the explanation I wish to further work upon in order to ensure that I manage to convince you of its validity:



Madam Defarge: She sits quietly, weaving and knitting in the initial chapters of the story. But, we come to know that she is a victim of great injustice; her sister having been raped by a well-respected noble, and therefore, her violent hatred for the upper-class is quite understandable.And what has she been knitting all along? You may ask. Oh yes, the names of the people she intends to have
killed during the French Revolution!

A psychopath, nonetheless who waits patiently, knitting and plotting revenge against her oppressors. Quite scary...

Silas Marner: A character with a happy ending, but with an interesting sad opening to begin with. A weaver, who has been met with great psychological harm at the hands of those he used to love dearly; I am not going into the details, because I really want all of you who haven't read the novel to do so kindly.

What's essential to keep in mind about this character is that he weaves out of pure impulse, and that his weaving has over the years become a fruitless attempt to distract him from his clearly upsetting life. He feels nothing, he cares for nothing and his weaving is similar to a spider spinning a web as if she has done it several times and without any ulterior motive to make her happy, other than guarantee her food to quell her hunger.


And so, the Defarge-Marner hypothesis, put simply is:

"People who knit/crotchet/ sew as part of some lifelong passion are actually victims of earlier oppression; either physical or psychological or both in the making. The immortal kind-of dedication and patience required to excel in the practice itself begs us to consider the idea that only someone who has gone through a lot can pursue the practice further ahead."

Of course, to confirm my hypothesis, the need to carry a survey would be deemed necessary. In my personal experience, I can claim that my mom and a particular former friend are subject to the self-proposed theory. They can knit, because they've both been tried in extremely challenging social environments and therefore they possess the patience to pursue these rather tasking activities, so to speak. Of course, it couldn't be just a case of inhumane patience, but also a means of great distraction from the many tyrannies still imprinted on their minds.

Feel free to argue with me on this one. Who knows? It might lead to the discovery of something exciting and beneficial for humanity as a whole. Let's see.

Do what you love and love what you do: the secret to staying happy with your life

I've always wondered as to whether I have a talent or not, but after going through several psychological dilemmas and late-night obsessions with things I seem to have a good grasp with; several moments of realization have revealed to me that it really doesn't matter if you aren't brilliant at what you do, because if the practice of that particular art makes you happy; then that is what really matters.

The best example here is my continuous obsession with writing, and though it often feels like some sickness that cannot be removed, and that can be perhaps blamed for sowing the seeds of destruction in various relationships I've had over the years; it's evident that the reason as to why it seems inseparable from my very existence is because it gives some sort of meaning or meanings, which make me value my life all the more for it.

And, yes, it's not because I am a good writer, oh no. I've been downplayed by several critics, both inside as well as outside my social circle; that there are times when I become extremely verbose and my writings become nothing short of word salads that tend to turn quite incomprehensible for my said readers. Also, it's not unusual for me to stretch stories that are exceedingly abstract in nature, and whose plots are barely visible due to absurd and haphazard stream of thoughts presented in them.

But, it doesn't matter. At least, not to me. To me, words are all that I have, and without them, I feel utterly useless (not to mention completely bored out of my mind!). They intoxicate me, pleasure my senses and unfold to me worlds that would simply beg me to consider the unreal as the real. Even when I am upset and out of my mind; by writing about my experiences in a fictitious or real way, I manage to ensure my stability and move on as if nothing bad had ever happened to me.

If there is one thing I regret, however, is that after I've written my experiences down, I really can't let go of them, even if they distress me, because they get represented through writing in such an elegant and eloquent manner that I can't help, but browse through them over and over, and cause pain to my soul at realizing the gravity of the mistakes I've committed over the years.

This of course, brings us back to the 'forgive and forget' dilemma, but lets not get into that right now, since it would deviate us from the topic at hand.

So, yes, doing what makes you happy and satisfied with your life is really the way to go here. I had a friend who happens to be an excellent crocheter, and the reason for her excellence is that she is passionate about the art to quite an extent. Every day, she manages to come up with some new, out of the world idea and it does wonders for the creative side to her work, which reveals itself beautifully in the products she endeavors to turn into absolute perfection.

Her passion is so intense, so fiery that it used to sometimes scare me, because it made her work seem all the more life-like in turn.

It simply reaches out to her consumers, who can't help, but shower her with praises over and over again.

Yes, she 'was' my friend and it's too early for me to explain just exactly how I lost her due to the idiotic functioning of my complex mind, so we'll leave that issue for later posts(much much later, mind you).

Anyways, here is her page if you are interested to witness an amazing amalgamation of passion and talent. Also, if you are a lover of crotchet; all the more reason to satisfy your love for the brilliant art that has captured the hearts of so many in the making. Yes, the history of crotchet and my own literary experiences of it is also a subject I'd like to shed light in some later post (maybe, just maybe after this one).

https://www.facebook.com/mochaandco?fref=ts

This is a sample of the illustrious and beautiful work she's been doing:

Well, alright. I must admit that 'writing' isn't the only thing I've adopted as a personal favorite pass-time of mine. My secondary hobbies are public speaking (which also has a nice background story to it) and music composition (the background story involved here is of a much pleasant sort, so it could be a light and fun thing to go through!)

Again, I have to re-emphasize that I don't think I've honed my skills to a professional level for further pursuit of them, but I must admit that they too have the ability to sooth my nerves when they are in immediate need of soothing. Sometimes when I feel that writing is getting me no where, I pick up my guitar in hopes to find some sort of inspiration and lead me to the making of some soulful song, which would reignite the incognito creative monster from within.

As for public speaking, well, I don't do pursue it that often, but whenever I do, it turns out to be quite an invigorating experience too. I had a friend (again, with the 'had', you must be thinking. Makes you wonder how many relationships I've exactly screwed up, huh?) who happens to be a brilliant public speaker, and is in fact invited to chair Model United Nations held in Pakistan from time to time.

Well, the reason as to why I felt it significant to bring him up is because he was the one who bred in me the love for the art. We used to debate a lot together, and even though we hadn't won any competition as a team; the story ends up as quite a lovely series of experiences and shall be remembered by me for perhaps the rest of my life.

It's not often that I've shined out as an excellent public speaker. I've had my moments, yes, but not many to paint me into some amazing speaker, who is perhaps destined to go forth into the field itself. But, again I shall emphasize that it really doesn't matter to me, because the important thing to keep in mind here is that it makes me happy upon its pursuit.

To conclude, dear reader, to be both successful as well as happy in life, one must do what satisfies his/her spirit and soul. And, he/she should not pursue something just because it promises significant monetary gains, but because it makes him/her happy and stable in his/her daily life.


Love. Passion. Life. Powerful words they are...very powerful indeed.

Meet the Misunderstood Man: Mr.Awais lovely

To be honest, dear reader, I never thought that there would come a day when I would be tempted to review the psycho-social framework of a person painted comically by society for exploits that would in psychological terms be classified as either a mild case of Histrionic Personality Disorder (HPD) or perhaps a plain personality disorder that had, over the years (and particularly due to childhood/early adolescent problems), led to some virulent form of dysfunctionality in the said person.

Nevertheless, it should be noted here that such a diagnosis is based purely on secondary observation of the actions undertaken by the person, and not after a proper and comprehensive analysis; that involving either extensive psychotherapy with the particular individual or diving deeper into the recesses of his subconsciousness by going through existing self-reports, as is the case with Mr.Lovely.

I don't wish to represent Mr.Lovely in a negative way here. And, yes I admit that at first I was utterly stupefied by his sentimental downpour to the global community through means of Facebook and YouTube, but after going through an interesting textual analysis done by a friend of mine with respect to his interesting personality, I have reason to believe that society has grossly misunderstood him. Mr.Lovely is not a bad guy, despite his elevated sense of social neediness and the overwhelming need to reach out to humanity in ways viewed as 'unorthodox' by most people.

Also, the other issue that I wish to address is the way society has treated him, and yes; it has treated him in a way that debases the concept of humanity completely. Sure, not liking a person for his oddities is understandable and the best way to deal with the personal problem is to avoid the said person and go on with your life by doing what you like doing on a daily basis. But, to mock and abuse the said person and try your utmost best to make him not only miserable, but also to shatter his life completely; my, my, it seems as if we are still in Medieval Europe, where unique and sick people are often tortured mercilessly, and classified as social misfits, so that they can be jeered and laughed at, until the society decided to dispose off them as a means to entertain themselves.

My friends, nobody likes being treated the way Mr.Lovely was dealt with. We live in a liberal era, where man should be allowed to do what he wants, unless or until his actions are classified as a damaging to the society in general. What Mr.Lovely was doing was not out of selfish desires, but out of his innocent desire to give courage and confidence to a nation which seemed to be struggling in a pool of lava-like despair and agony. Personally, I don't really like the stunts he pulls off, but that is no reason for me to deny what he is doing as something bad. He is, as it suffices to say, misunderstood. He thinks he is helping people here, and from a psychological point of view, the benefits that he receives outweigh the costs. Put simply, by 'thinking' that he is helping people, he manages to satisfy his own ego, which would remain troubled if he felt that he wasn't able to help anyone at all.

Look, again I must make this clear that my analysis of this interesting individual may be incorrect, and personally, I don't want him to change just because I feel that he has unresolved psychological problems. The thing is that I have no right to make these claims, because I am neither a professional, nor do I know the guy that well to make rash deductions about his strange behavior.

Yes, my message to him is that he shouldn't listen to what people say and do what he thinks is best. Maybe, he'll prove us all wrong someday. Maybe, just maybe he might show to the world the real meaning of humanity by winning the hearts of people on a global basis. It's a good thing to have extraordinary people; people who don't tend to think like the rest and manage to move beyond the social norms which otherwise define our existence in this world.

Anyways, here is the analysis my friend did on Mr.Awais Lovely. I hope that after you've gone through it, dear reader, you will perhaps keep it in mind that making fun of people just because they're strange is clearly not the humane thing to do. Also, it might help you understand the twisted immoral way society treats such people, and why it's high time we stopped doing that in order to move on towards a better future for ourselves as a whole:

Profile on Awais Lovely

It is better to die on feet than live on knees- Awais lovely

“Some things can’t be explained, only felt...I was hurt, very hurt, to a great extend…I left facebook, youtube and stopped using internet. I stopped talking to people, I HATED internet. People crossed the limits. In Pakistan celebrities don’t get the respect they deserve. In Europe, celebrities do get respect.This is very wrong, we feel discouraged. I do not want anybody’s fake sympathy now. If you don’t like me, do not watch me but do not treat me this way. You don’t only let me down; you let down Pakistan’s image in front of the world.”

These heart breaking words are coming from the once YouTube sensation Awais Ayoub, known as Awais Lovely.Awais has disappeared from the world of internet since he got hacked.”Every celebrity has this kind of sadful painful story behind it, behind its personal life”, Awais concluded.

Awais was born on 16^th February 1984 in Sialkot. He belongs to the Goldsmith family, Rajputs; people handling the Gold Business. He spend his childhood in Kuwait , where his father had lived for twenty eight years. His dad passed away when he was five years old, leaving behind enough a massive property, after which he shifted to Pakistan.He did his Matriculation from City Public School and his Intermediate from Malik College in Sialkot and then went to Ireland Dublin as a student to learn website designing.He worked in London as a receptionist to be able to get job experience, however, his main focus remained on his gold shop.

The motivation behind Awais’s success is a result of an embarassing moment of his life.In 2002, Awais was in London, and he got the news of Shehzad Roy’s concert. Knowing that he was a Pakistani singer, Awais and his friends decided to attend the concert to support Pakistan. They responded in such an overwhelming way that the end of his performance, even Shahzad Roy personally thanked them for their support. When the concert was over people rushed towards Shehzad Roy for a picture with him. Some Irish girls were taking a picture with him, Awais stood beside one of them so he could be a part of the picture. That girl rudely told him to get away and stop ruining her picture. Awais comments on the incident saying” I was embarassed.Very embarassed.That day I swore to myself that I will be so famous one day that people will take my autograph and like to take pictures with me.” Awais decided that he will not die as an unknown person.

Passionate Awais chose the right path for him for fame.“I’ll tell you something that since a long time ago I mean, guys and people are telling me that ‘Awais, you are really different and you seems to be a very, very romantic guy so you can do something special in the world yeah,’ so I’ve been feeling as well right? So that is why I started making videos to introduce me like I am a lovely guy you know…”. (Naqvi).Awais states his good looks to be his greatest achievement. He had been chosen as a model and has given many dance performances during his academic life a number of times. His friends really praised his dance moves motivating him to upload his video on youtube.Then a series of one after another , dance videos started uploading on Facebook. People from all over the world started sharing them and people started adding Awais on Facebook. His fan page was made which had over a million likes. The likes and comments on his posts were numerous and he got the label “Pakistan’s first youtube star”. Youtube promoted his channel, Wateen sponsored him and newspapers such as Dawn News and The News published his profile. People started blogging about him and wanted to have conversations with him.Awais being very considerate of his fans, joined Skype so he could talk to them. In 2009, his fame reached its peak. People used to call him from all over the world and the response to his status and videos was tremendous.Approximately hundred people used to add him daily and he used to get an average of twenty three notifications in three seconds.


His quotes became famous all over the internet. Some of his quotations being: “Why I am still single” ; “White is bright” ; “ Do what you love” ; “Proud to be a desi” ; “hatters gonna hate” and “It’s better to die on feet than live on knees”. He used to status his quotations on facebook which used to get an extraordinary response in form of likes and comments. People started learning them and using the quotes in their own conversations.


Awais also became style icon. His picture with a black shirt saying “Why still single” and both his hands pointing toward himself with his finger was worth a million likes. People started copying his pose. According to him, his pose meant to imply that his life is like those big palaces which look very lively from outside, but are very lonely from inside. The reason for the quote on that shirt was that Awais was really confused about his relationship with girls. Many girls were in love with him but Awais was not sure if he was in love with any of them. “I was a boyfriend for them, but they were not my girlfriends. None of them were able to fully win my heart. I couldn’t find the girl of my choice because of my location. I was living in Sialkot; the families here are very conservative. I did have many girlfriends through internet but I was not sure if they were for real”. “Why still single?” was hence a question from Awais to himself as he had everything a girl would want, many girls were after him but he was still single. He believes he is the reason for real competition between millions of ‘lucky girls’. His shirt was so admired that people in Lahore started wearing similar shirts and some designers wanted to make a deal with Awais to start a shirt designing business.Awais also got a call from a company who wanted to launch a brand with his name. Awais has avoided entering the field of fashion designing because he says he is a designer for himself and believes everyone cannot do everything; fashion designing is a completely different field for him.


This was the time when Awais’ dream of being famous was finally fulfilled. Whenever he used to go out of his home, especially in big cities, people used to rush towards him to have a autograph and picture with him. His page was so famous that it became a match making page, boys knew that there were many girls who were Awais lovely’s fans, and tried to approach them through his page.Many of them made fake profiles by his name, so they could socialize with women.Awais said “ I was a status.MashAllah,many people in this world knew me, they were calling me, taking my interview. Everybody knew my name and tried to use it to impress girls. Because girls were really attracted to me from even before I was famous on youtube.People wanted to use my name” (Naqvi). People from Canada, Australia,Pakistan,Hongkong, Spain,Dubai, Malaysia and France used to call him and encourage him praising his looks and dances. They used to console him whenever Awais used to get a negative response on any video and Awais classifies all of them as his ‘fans’.


Not everybody praised Awais. In fact, people who disliked Awais promoted him more than the people who liked him.Awais classifies them as his ‘haters’ (pronounced as hattars). The haters promoted him so they can make fun of him, however, this helped Awais get more views on his videos along with offensive comments and dislikes.Awais analyzes his haters as coward people, who are scared to confront him. He believes that the reason for such hatred is jealousy which was very common amongst his viewers. People were jealous of his fame,success, talents and looks. They tried their best to let him down. His videos on youtube used to get dislikes and bad comments, however,his fans used to reply back supporting him. Awais used to punish such people by granting them a place in his blocklist. In 2011, Awais used to block approximately twenty above haters daily.His haters responded by making pages against him.One of Awais’ personal favourite page on facebook is ‘ Awais lovely blocked me’.Awais says “I treat these haters like a bucket of water that I have thrown out, while my fans are my ocean.If you remove a bucket of water from the ocean, the ocean remains unaffected” (Naqvi).The worst of his hatters are the ones who used to call him and give him fake job offers. Promise him a role in dance videos and films and invite him to places so they can make fun of him. Call him pretending to be people from the media, take his interview, ask personal questions and then upload the recordings. They spread fake rumours about him which harmed his reputation.Male haters made female facebook accounts to flirt with him;being aware of awais’s loving and romantic nature.They used to say offensive things with the purpose of making him cry.


Awais condemns such people as he believes what they do to be extremely wrong. His message for his haters is that ‘Keep hating,its too worse for you,stay away’.He believes people should not play with someones feelings. Such acts makes the other person loose and makes you harm your own reputation as well.One should not pull other person’s leg but should instead encourage talent.Infact, when asked to compare the atmosphere in Pakistan and abroad he pointed out that the people in Pakistan are victims of jealousy who let other people down,on the other hand, People have many opportunities abroad to do anything they like. He finds Pakistan to be an amazing country which is in need of some little reformations. The most important change is to alter the attitude of people, they should be all open minded. People should let other people live their own life and not be a hurdle to the fulfillment of someones dreams.Once people start caring for others , Pakistani society can be even more representable.


He is very concerned with Pakistans image all over the world. When Awais was in his late teenage years, he was at a food resturant ‘supermax’ ,in Ireland, with his friends. A Irish person from the other table looked at them and said ‘Paki bastards’.Awais was very disturbed as he had Bengali friends with him but they were all abused as Pakistanis. Awais approached the Irish person and discovered that approximately a hundred years ago some Pakistani men came to Ireland, married their women and left them with their childrens alone. Since then Pakistan has been viewed in a bad light.It was then when Awais decided that he will try to improve Pakistans image infront of the world, this is the reason why he added ‘Lovely’ at the end of his name. He wanted to show the world that Pakistani people can also be lovely.Awais has done dance performances in the club in Scotland ,and showed them that Pakistani can perform better than their people. He believes Pakistani’s should leave a mark whereever they go. Awais shoots his videos on the streets of Pakistan with the intention of showing the scenery and developments in Pakistan.


Awais dreams of Pakistan as a well developed country which has openminded people, good institutions, laboratories and medical centres.A place free of terrorism and a place where foreigners would want to come. Being a Gold shop owner, he believes his country is as precious as Gold itself.Many of Awais’s fans had advised him to come to politics but Awais is too busy handling his Gold shop. He believes that he might win as he is really famous, but it is a very big responsibilty for him.He does desire power and money but he is not confident if he can handle a political job.However, he does fulfill his task of being a good citizen. He has many incidents where he has helped old people cross roads and given them a ride to their destination. Awais wants to see smiling faces everywhere around him.


Awais has many hobbies such as video making. He is very fond of dressing and likes designing clothes for himself.Like every male, he has a passion for latest cars and uses them in his videos.He likes socializing and making friends.He is currently not a member of any club, but in his childhood he used to play cricket, snooker and badminton.He has intentions of entering the showbiz in the future as his mother really supports him in whatever he wants to do.He believes Pakistani media is the right place for him, but he has not accepted any offers yet as he is living in Sialkot and he could not leave the place. Travelling is a major problem for him as he owns a Gold shop and being a responsible businessman, he can not leave it alone. Although he left the internet, he has now been convinced that it is time he comes back. He has recently finished his new video in which he is doing a Rap dance.It is on a Punjabi song “ Munday Pat Te” by Hari Singh.


What caused Awais to leave the internet? Awais was deeply hurt due to an incident which made him loose confidence in himself and others. It took him a lot of time to get over the shock of his hacked facebook and youtube profile. It was the source of his fame which was now hacked, and the names of his videos changed. His original youtube channel got deleted and he was left with no proof of his success, no proof that he had millions of likes and followers. He blames the hacker to be a person who was jealous of him and furious of being blocked by him.He suspects a girl who came to his gold shop in Sialkot and tried to be very friendly. When awais was showing her gold chains, she kept her hand under Awais’s hand. She was very good looking and her looks flattered Awais, who was in hunt of an attractive life partner. She took Awais’s number and they made good friends through phone calls. Awais was deeply in love with her and started loving his life even more.One day she called Awais and sounded angry as Awais had blocked her cousin on facebook. Awais tried apologizing but she was very angry. She forced Awais to share his facebook and youtube password with her if he wanted to continue with the relationship.Awais fell for the trick and within fifteen days, he was hacked. Awais was very hurt, he lost his love and his profiles as well. He knew he could never manage to get the same response on his old videos even if he uploaded them again.Worst was that, he knew he could never trust a stranger ever again. He shared this incident so other people learn a lesson from his mistake and never trust a stranger like Awais did.It has been a while now and Awais is trying to recover from the misery. He has uploaded his new video on facebook and the response from the public will decide if his fans remember him or not.

The art of losing isn't hard to master- Part Two: because the winner stands alone...

My first post pertaining to the topic at present has attempted to deal with the inter-personal relationship-oriented dimension to it, whereas this one will be solely concentrating on the 'art of losing' from a competitive, 'being the best of the best' view, since that is mostly the idea people generally associate with the act of losing something significant as a whole.

Be it losing marks in an exam, or losing out to the natural genius in class; or even in a competition, which the said individual came close to winning, but seemingly screwed up; it is quite apparent that losing in such seemingly petty things are often viewed as distressing, and at times, debilitating by the affected individual, who decidedly rants his/her heart out to the people willing to listen, and complains (usually, as I would like to point out) that the world operates on a flawed capitalist structure that tends to deny chances to the ones who really deserve to be on top.

Well, 'scuse me, my good sir, but had you won; as you so vehemently claim that you should have, you would probably speak in a positive manner about the capitalist world that you so passionately show your resentment for!

Now, let me make it clear to you, dear reader, that I too am a sore loser, and to be honest, it's not really a bad thing. Well, if you can make being a loser work for you, then it can be a really great thing. If not, and if you let being a loser crush whatever soul and spirit you might've possessed earlier; I'd suggest that you search for coping strategies, so as to prevent any sort of negativity from paving its way into your envy-riddled mind.

My favorite coping strategy is to look at my losses as my victories too. Sure, it involves a denial of reality, but it does wonders for my self-esteem, which is always on the high and fuels my ego in a positive way; this of course referring to my irremovable impulse to gain knowledge and read and write and try absorbing everything to make my own reality and disprove the existing one.

Yes, I know. It makes me sound like a deluded psychopath, but I assure you that I am as normal as that fictional murderer Dexter from the famous TV series bearing the same name, most conveniently. I mean, come on! Other than the point that he kills people due to having twisted morals, and as a means of relieving his so-called 'dark passenger', he does have a job and a family, which he cares for like most ordinary people do.

Coming back to the topic, the art of losing; well see here, dear reader, the reality is that most people hate winners. People who constantly lead successful lives become a subject of envy for those surrounding them, and there is a reason as to why celebrities and other famous people lead sad exposed lives, which are often unveiled to show seemingly insignificant scandals and turn them as losers in the eyes of the society in turn.

To be a winner, you need to understand that you can't trust people even close to you, because nobody likes seeing a happy person; especially if their own lives are a subject of outrageous misfortune and misery.

Paulo Coehlo's 'The winner stands alone' does an excellent job in representing the misfortune of being a winner, and indeed proves that their paparazzi-riddled lives can be quite weary and violent at times.

So, when a normal individual, who dreams big sees winners falling down like flies, he/she perhaps feels convinced that being a winner in the 21st century is definitely not worth it.

Well, let me correct myself on that point. You see, I don't believe that winners stand alone, oh no. Only winners who feel miserable about having their lives like an open-book, and who hate losing feel that way. But, those who don't give a damn about what society thinks and do what fits them the best; they are the true winners and they will always be surrounded by people who will continue believing in them regardless of whether they continue their walk in fame and fortune, or not.

Keep trying, never give up on your dreams, my friends. You have no idea how many competitions, how many opportunities I've lost during the continuous progression of my existence. But, the only way to master the art of losing is to keep trying, no matter what. Don't let society stop you, tell you that you can't do something. More importantly, don't let your own mind convince you of your failure as being final and fatal, because Life always gives second chances to those who really plead for it.

I shall shed light on several of my experiences, and perhaps that might convince you that losing isn't really something to be concerned about. Unless you are really old and about to die that is. I am just kidding! I've read of 80 year old people completing their Ph.D and all sorts of seemingly impossible achievements due to sheer will and determination. So yes, never give up on your dreams! Ever!

The art of losing isn't hard to master- Part One: Irreconciable differences

This line, and altogether, the poem by Elizabeth Bishop itself happens to be my favorite, because it gives an excellent opinion about human nature, which tends to move beyond the unfathomable clutches of mortal pain in due time, rather than being stuck in past and mourn the loss of several things (both major and completely insignificant in the eyes of the Common). It suffices to say that no matter how tormented, how broken apart a person feels after going through some sort of horrible experience; he/she will in a certain interval forget all likelihood associated with himself/herself and the matter as presented earlier.

Not only will the person choose to bear no recollection of the miserable event, but shall also drown it into the dark recesses of his/her mind, and allow it to re-surface only as an unwanted nightmare or a faint thought of past horrors and sins afterward.

In most cases, however, the said affected person; perhaps due to the indefinite retaining ability of human memory, or because of the matter losing significance in time and hence becoming negligible to present itself as a painful memory; stops contemplating continuously about the matter in entirety and goes on with his/her life as nothing bad did ever take place.

Extraordinary, most extraordinary indeed! The art of losing, it really isn't hard to master, is it? People lose friends, they lose those dearest to them, they lose their pride, their fame and in far critical times, their well-earned fortune as well! And yet, with time all that is either cured or it continues to dawn upon the victims like some long drawn curse that knows no end whatsoever.

Understandably, people are always losing something or someone, and the whole mechanism present in the oft echoed social advice to 'forgive and forget' continues to enforce its message on humanity as a whole. Let's say (hypothetically speaking, of course) that I had a huge fight with a particularly good friend of mine, and so everlasting was the damage that presented afterwards to our relationship, that it made reconciliation as nothing more than an unfriendly hallucination. Interestingly, however, give me two-three days at least; or better yet, give me a few months or for good measure, a few years and you'll see me fit as a fiddle again, not disconcerted by the severing of ties with that earlier cherished friend of mine. Forgive and forget? Precisely that, most definitely so!

See, this is how reality works. It makes you forgive and forget past grievances. It tells you, no, it forces you to move on with your life as if nothing bad had happened and that only good is to follow afterwards (as absurd as that can sound to an unfortunate man). The 'moving on' thing isn't really as much of a dilemma as it presents itself right afterward undergoing the damaging consequences of the said critical situation, because the individual understands that without any path open, he/she has really no choice, but to discard the matter at present and move on to the things that he can exercise control onto easily.

It's funny how well-equipped the average individual is to deal with such kinds of social crises when they unceremoniously present themselves. For example, let's assume for my own sheer amusement that the two victims of a critical social event happen to be a young couple. Now, the event can be that the boyfriend was caught cheating on his girlfriend ('hey, it was unintentional!' the boyfriend will rightfully protest here) or whatever your minds, dear reader, can concoct up here; and you'll see the formation of a familiar pattern that begs the two individuals to play their respective parts accordingly. The boyfriend, either in fear of being reprimanded by the society for his immoral actions or due to purely troubling psychological reasons may decide to win back his damsel by pouring down several pleas-these either asking the dearly beloved to forget his sin and forgive him, and once more re-conciliate with him, or to give him a chance to justify the unexplainable course of action he undertook. The response by his aggrieved girlfriend could vary, however, depending on the type of individual she is.

She could ignore the pleas and cut off all means of contact with her guilty boyfriend, or she could make sure that the people around her (these being overly protective female friends or overly involved male friends, who will see the break-up as an opportunity in itself) keep the 'wild hog' away from her through all means possible. And soon enough, the ex-boyfriend would stop trying to get back together with her, and move on like the sane and rational individual that he is.

Indeed, this is the case with average individuals. But, in the event that the said individuals are deranged psychopaths or genuinely mentally ill, graver consequences that might just become an ending like Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet would follow and you'd probably end up hearing about a romantic tragedy in the daily newspaper that involves suicide through deliberate strangulation or the taking of poison after dressing up oneself beautifully, as if to send some sort of deathly disturbing message to the transgressor in question.

Sad. Unfortunate. Painful. Disturbing. All the negative adjectives one could find in a dictionary won't be enough to express how shocking the whole series of events would then become for the concerned parties in such a dismal situation as grossly conjured up here.

I'll end for now by correcting myself; the art of losing is hard to master at times, and even though on an average basis, severing ties with people and things may seem as trifling, it's not. All those mental disorders out there; depression, bipolar, schizophrenia, OCD, etc, they all have something in common according to most cognitive and behavioral psychologists: they all commence due to a negative experience or event, either in the victim's childhood or period of early adolescence.

So, the next time you think of breaking ties with a particular person, beware that you might just become a cause for a mental disorder in that person afterward!

POEWS Part two: The deep, long-lasting effects of ostracism.

In the earlier post with respect to the topic above, I discussed in great length the sad, often misguided life I spent during my secondary school years. The same, though perhaps less debilitating became the case when I moved on towards O and A level classes, and it was not long before I had managed to uncover that one of the reasons for being such a socially disabled person in the eyes of none other than the society itself was being an inescapable victim of chronic ostracism.

Before, I explain what 'chronic ostracism' means, let me just point out that it's not an approved medical term, but rather something I came up with just now. In general, ostracism simply refers to being banished or expelled by a person/people in general and is often due to the individual's inability to mingle properly with the said people; hence becoming a toy for bullies and people who love taking advantage of poor hapless souls such as that particular person in question.

Medically speaking, when a person feels ostracized, the brain's dorsal anterior cingulate cortex, which registers physical pain, also feels this social injury; leading to an elongation of the make-believe pain and becoming a definite cause of depression and other related mental disorders.

There is an interesting theory that defines the consequences of ostracism in three definite stages, and the credit for coming up with this theory  goes to a known professor of psychological sciences, Kipling.D.Williams. Now, I shall cover the three stages with relevance to my excessive writing problem, but before moving on to that, let me explain briefly what chronic ostracism means.

Unlike general ostracism, which can last for a few years and expire after maturity occurs in the said victim; my ostracism, however, persists even to this day and from time to time turns into one of a debilitating sort. The more socially excluded and misunderstood I feel, the more I tend to write. It does not matter what I write, or whether it makes sense, but that I do write and find the pain in my hands distract me from the complex reality surrounding me. Also, while going through the continuous three-stage cycle of ostracism, I use my writing abilities (or disease, as some would deem suitable) to add even further to it. Afterwards, the result is losing valuable friends and being unable to do anything meaningful except what I know how to; that of course being reading and writing way too excessively and being an annoyance to all those who know me.

The three stages of ostracism are: the initial acts of being ignored or excluded, coping and the most important of all, resignation. And, this my friends, is how the world revolves around me:

1) Initial acts of being ignored or excluded:

According to D.Williams, being excluded is painful due to it being a deprivation of basic human needs, such as belonging and self-esteem. The first day at my new school in Pakistan was, perhaps the worst day of my entire life, so to speak. I was laughed at by teachers and students alike for my 'uniqueness' as I prefer calling it, and by the end of the day, I was made to sit on a lone desk that was several feet away from the joint desks of my happy self-satisfied peers. Indeed, the lack of social contact led me to try all that I could to prevent the forced seclusion, but sadly it proved to be to no avail. I experienced the three-stage cycle of ostracism in a brief manner, and it was not long before I had resigned myself to staying away from society, because society seemed to betray no hint of wanting me for anything in particular. From afar, I'd watch people huddle in groups in recess, and play some games or spend time in mindless yet enjoyable gossip; and I'd experience a familiar feeling of desolation, which would then propel me to either write stories on existing fictional worlds such as Pokemon or read a book that would often fail to make sense due to its level of complexity, but which would force me to try make sense of it as a brilliant means of distraction. I'd write and write, and read and read, and no matter how much I'd pursue the said activities, it would never be really enough. The reason for that being of course the constant effect of social deprivation I had seem to become a permanent victim of.

2) Coping:

Mimicry, compliance to others' wishes, obeying orders, excessive cooperation and show of affection are known symptoms found in ostracized people, since they tend to increase pursuit of activities that could help them in securing future inclusion in their particular peer group.

The process of coping refers to the person's vain attempts at trying to cope with his/her ostracism by trying to secure inclusion in the said society. As pathetic as it sounds, to an ostracized person this seems as the most logical thing to do when all avenues to cope with desolation become but a bygone affair.

In my case, I tried making friends by writing to other people and expressing my sincere concern for their well-being as well as the immediate desire for their company. And, the more they'd avoid me, the more frustrated I'd become, and the letters would turn into long passionate essays or lengthy affection-riddled stories that would voice the aching loneliness I'd seem to find myself hopelessly trapped in. But, because most people find such extensive dialogue as both overwhelming as well as extremely annoying, I'd end up losing the ones dear to me and fall once more into the fiery depths of unwanted desolation and despair.

All the friends who've left me, they have one thing in common; they have entire novels written on themselves by me, and these novels were in the process when ties hadn't been broken. But, because the written expression of my concern turned into a hellish downpour, they were incapable to cope with it and left without attempting reconciliation in the then near future.

3) Resignation:

This is the last stage, and at this very moment, I seem to be undergoing it, since I feel rather out of control of my entire being.

Resignation is when the individual accepts that society is never going to accept him/her, and decides that they are all a bunch of fools who need to be eradicated from the face of the Earth itself. First, they should have their heads cut with a moving chain-saw and then their headless bodies be flattened by dozens and dozens of heavy tractors on a huge crop field.

See, what I did there? I didn't mean to, but this is the ONLY way an ostracized person can regain control of his shattered self-esteem, and were I to let loose the idea that I were to blame for everything wrong around me, I'd become an immediate victim of depression and other such feelings of unworthiness, which would then stop me from functioning as normally as possible for me.

Everything I write on is related to me in one way or the other. That is the curse of ostracism; the need to make yourself feel good by concentrating on solely yourself, rather than about those around you, since you are too scared that were you to spare a thought or word for them, they'd just shun you completely.

The worst thought ever to have passed my mind is the possibility of being alone in my old age, surrounded by lengthy letters, essays and novels written by me alone. And, because society rejects my entire being; whatever I've written will go to the grave with me after my death.

No one would ever know that I had ever existed. And if they did, they'd just let it pass like an innocent fly...

The Pathology of Excessive Writing Syndrome- Part 1 : Secondary School

From a psychological diagnosis, my habit of writing excessively would be classified as either a symptom of schizophrenia or bipolar, or perhaps a severe case of Obsessive-Compulsive disorder; the writing being, of course a debilitating obsession in order to combat irrational compulsions, such as the need to provide relief due to the inability to connect with ordinary people of a rather extraordinary world.

What assures me completely of my 'excessive writing' as being nothing more than a bad habit, rather than a symptom of a severe kind of mental disorder is that despite the nonsense I produce at times; the so-called nonsense appears to people around me as a brilliant sophistication of the particular topic I passionately and most uncontrollably ramble upon. What is more scary, is that sometimes it makes such perfect sense to me, that I find myself immersed, or rather, magically pulled into the complicated puddle of thoughts I had so verbosely brought forth.

These reassurances, however, are not completely reassuring, because in my scenario, the love for writing causes my mind to constantly whir like a working vending machine, and in times of general stress and anxiety, the need to write becomes all the more hazardous to my personal health. In earlier times, being a selfish conceited person, I was able to handle the pressure quite easily, since my writing had more of an entertainment purpose than a professional one, and was therefore of a lighthearted sort.

So, impulsive as my need to write has always been, the move towards a more complicated socio-academic life brought forth an excessive drain on my mental faculties as a whole. For example, as Mathematics became more complex, my detestation for numbers and complex formula increased as well, and that caused me to find solace in words and words alone. To me, Math was always something undefined and disproportionate, because its quantitative nature seemed to reduce the world's magnificence into a worn-out case of a scientific calculator, so to speak. 

If there is one response by my Math teachers that irked me more than anything, it was this:

"Stop questioning the logic behind the formula! It's something that shall be further explored in your higher classes."

Well, bully me then my good teachers, because obsessive as I was to uncover all that lay unexplained around me, waiting patiently as if for a damsel in need of saving wasn't something I felt deeply motivated to do. Similarly, my interest in natural sciences also dwindled, because again I found both specified primary and secondary school textbooks as quite unappetizing for my often dissatisfied stomach.

If that wasn't bad enough, I was already a victim of bullying in my secondary school, and this had been simply because of the fact that I had come from another country, where apparently the social norms set for academic life to function upon were quite different from the one I had been placed hitherto.

There are several interesting incidences that ensured my being labeled as an oddball in the aforementioned place, and these shall be mused upon in later posts. What is essential to extract from my duration as an oddball over there is that I spent most of my time in the library and it took me quite some years to finally make myself amiable in the set surroundings.

Some would suggest that social deprivation could be a sole reason for making me obsessive about writing for perhaps the rest of my life. To be honest, I am uncertain and therefore, I shall try moving in a chronological order, so as to identify the reason that binds all the stages which can be blamed for causing the formation of this irremovable habit of mine.

However, if there is one lesson I shall try pointing out here, it's that when a person is ignored by the society, and when society is less inclined to help the misfit understand the means of getting their acceptance; the said individual may then likely head towards delusions of all kinds which would tempt him to see the world from a completely different view and create all sorts of misunderstandings in his dealings with the people around him.

Well, in my case that view is that I am the most amazing person on Earth and the rest are mere cornflakes bobbing sheepishly in a bowl full of milk that has gone awry. Oh, it's not a bad thing, mind you! In fact, most people tend to adopt the view in times of serious self-esteem issues.

Don't worry though, I can assure you that I am not the type who would end up to be a serial killer or something. For one thing, I am too lazy to carry out killing sprees, and for another, I am more interested in understanding humanity instead of attempting it to destroy it.