and then our exile

I left my window open last night. And it was cold. Very cold. I hope the plant didn't freeze more than me.

I posted thrice yesterday. Which makes me sad.

In grade five in Islamabad there were two Swedish-peoples in my class, along with about ten other nationalities: Henrik and Annika. Henrik became my best_friend (one of), and we'd do all together. Except then the next year he left (his father was a blue helmet patrolling the Line of Control in Kashmir), and then we also left, coming back to Canada, and we lost contact. Reason I think of them now is because last night I dreamt of someone who looked a lot like Annika--I was backpacking around Europe, i think (heh. A few months too soon for that, but inshaAllah...), and LC and Murtada (him: in background) were in there too. These dreams, though, seem to be sterilized of any emotive content. Torture without pain, only bemusement.
Dreams: liberated from school_work since November 14, the same date marks my submersion into a multiverse of complexity.

Speaking of complexity, I was paging through Hodgson's The Venture of Islam: History of Conscience and Civilization yesterday [a three-volume work with good insights and understandings. His perception of source material is of necessity hampered by the fact that he is looking in from the outside, but his analyses in the last volume, and those on the West in particular, are profound.], and he was quoting someone to the effect of "the cruellest thing you can do in the Modern world is to make people ashamed of complexity".

I seem to be fated to toy (in mind) with each of the humanities in turn. I've dropped Linguistics as incomprehensible after paging through Hud's work, but now am on to Comparative Religion--talking with Zacharia and Abdel-Malik yesterday at the MCE rekindled interest. Kareem & Palwasha are doing it too. In the end, I know I want to do the direction of John Pilger, but...

Usman is following Ammi-mine around, and I plunge into biology.