Caution: It’s my personal encyclopedia and this post is for fun, which purely targets mature people who are capable of extorting morals out of this story. Innocent kids are not advised to cross next few lines. Trespassers will be exposed to dirty-&-street-languaged content.
History and Name
Juggan Jilani is my first cousin. But the way we both know each other, he is my younger brother. His real name is Mustafain Jilani and his ass has been on fire ever since he started existing. Therefore, after thoughtful consideration and resembling his ass with that of a firefly, his family named him ‘Jugno’. Later, after stepping into the cyber world, he promoted himself to Juggan Jilani and cooled his ass. The reason for choosing ‘Juggan’ are manifold. The most obvious one might be his love for Juggan Kazim, but I’m not fully sure of it – It can be anything when ‘it’ is about him.
The current scenario — encompassing his daily routine, behavior and interests — says that he has wisely chosen me as his role model or something like that. Now imagine ME being a role model. *Shrugs* Anyway, I respect a few of his decisions so its kinda OK with me. To be me, Juggan swiftly keeps adopting my interests and also tries to copy my allotropic personality to some extent. And there are several things among both of us that are extremely alike.
The Fuck He Does All Day Long
He spends nearly 7 hours each day with me when I just spend half an hour each day with him – and it’s when I talk and listen to him. About the rest of 6 and a half hours, I keep engaging myself into different activities for the sake of killing time and Juggan just stays with me to ensure himself that he spends most of his time with me.
Sometimes, he’s busy with his iPod, sometimes with text messaging, and sometimes he just joins me even if I’m silent, if I’m watching TV or just watching the clock tick by. Whatever I do, he does the same. He wants peace. He probably assumes it as some material thing. However, peace is just a thought. Think it, and its there.
His Age Compared With Mine
Juggan’s age is almost seeing the same stuff that I had seen when I was his age. That, actually, brings us together in the same picture. I can understand his things which he is unable to even know of. Others do not understand him like they understand themselves, but I understand his problems just like I feel like understanding mine. Therefore, he asks questions all the time with a firm belief that only I have the best answers, as if I have learnt by heart the lately added Encarta Encyclopedia or some-book-of-deep-thoughts.
He acts like the complication and I become its details and I bear with him easily. But of course, it is very irritating when a guy who resembles your childhood, guns you with whole lotta weird questions about human behavior, personal development, feelings, nature, writing, internet, trance, dance and techno along with several indirect questions regarding love and relationships. Doing so, he sometimes becomes a pain, and I quit whenever I’m pained. He wants to know about love! Come on! When I was his age, I was capable of writing a whole book on love and relationships – probably because I have witnessed most of the tragedies when I was a kid. And Love was most of them. His childhood has yet to see a lot more delicate stuff.
Things That Shout Him Out Loud
Questions, my friends, are his symbol. I’m sure when Juggan gets his ID Card, it would define his Symbol of Identity as: A guy having a mouth wide opened with an urge to inhale a change, and a face where life has brutally pasted a bundle of weird questions. I hope they also mention the spark of dreams in his eyes – he is also so damn full of life But he whines, like I once whined. He has missed spending a phase of 7 months where Salaina Haroon and Haroon stay together; and also being unpaid 7 thousand bucks. Had he been living both these, he would have been busy pouring meanings to his life, and shaking it upside down along with the time because, at present, life hasn’t employed him on permanent basis.
I hate to even say it but sometimes, he commits self-pity for he has no siblings, and blames his loneliness for several psychological complexities, which do not even exist. I advise him to stay alive. Sorry, I meant to say, ‘STAY ALIVE’. But it almost goes in vain; Juggan listens to me only when he is with me. Loneliness makes him forget things and he forgets staying alive, which makes me believe that I’m just a fuckin’ battery to his full-of-life versions.
What Makes Him Positive: Reliability
Earlier, I used to kick him away or kick myself out of wherever he was with me – the reason was smoke, ashes and some love stories. I feared to share secrets with him because he had that image of a Mama’s Boy, who tells everything to his mom even before completely entering his house, but now I think I should be ashamed of taking him so negatively. He isn’t a Mama’s Boy. It revealed one day, when I discussed this issue with him and made him understand that there are things that only last as long as the company does: Boys’ Talk; secrets are ought not to crawl to the crowd. But to my surprise, he said he already understands it, and he showed a warm response which assured me of his cooperation. I made sure that he stays reliable by assuring him that we are brothers and very good friends and smoked in front of him. That day, we became close friends.
Before we became good friends, I feared because I did not want to spoil him. He was a kid, positive; I was mature, negative. And I was afraid that I might attract him as I was supposed to attract him positively. Therefore, I wisely brainwashed him against the negative things that make me be who I really am. One needs to have smart brains to be a bad man, but it’s not necessary to have brains if one wants to be a smoker. That’s why I especially pointed out the harms of smoking, saying how miserable and tired I had become after smoking, which of course, was lame. But he believed me and he is safe.
Educational Back on a Flat Ground
Laughs. He sucks at education. Besides, he sucks big time when it comes to mathematics. Evaluation confuses him; and elevation excites his highness. Therefore, he needs special-educational-attention. The easiest solution I advised him was that he should perceive mathematics the way I did in my schooling – I took it as a brain sharpener and I was best at it. However, I didn’t know much about evaluating, focusing, applying principles or formulae; I just played with it. Later, I fell in love once, twice and thrice. So, ermmmm, now I’m more into Personal Psychotherapy kinda things, not Math.
- Anything that comes with a responsibility. He’s a free soul; and he hates boundries. Self employement would be better for him.
Skills for Cooking Dreams and Desires
So far, he is unable to discover his dreams, but he knows that they are there somewhere and he is just required to remember them. Besides, he is not comfortable in adjusting himself to the spot where he currently exists, which means he wants to move, higher. And that explains the presence of dreams. The day he compromises on life the way it is, he drops his dreams down the well. To him, a dream is not just a dream that you might see with your eyes deep shut; he says that it’s a vision you see with your wide opened eyes. And it brings a life to your life (He is very philosophical lol). Oh, he has some passions, which he practices, discreetly. Discreetly, because he arts Abstraction, and people fail to understand or appreciate it.
Modes of Expression: Words, Pictures and Dreams
Juggan writes and he is a very brilliant photographer. His story plots are like dynamites and his pictures are bombs. He writes about moments and is skilled to find feelings behind the lens of his stupid cell phone’s camera. He keeps saving different kind of dialogues said by unknown characters of the stories he never intends to write or have plots for (true writer). Sometimes, he drags creativity into the flow of his life and writes very deep and meaningful poems, which cannot ever be written by me. Of course, his poems needs more practice and style but he is better than me at poems.
He reads Haroon Jilani, Paulo Coelho, Sidney, James Hadley, Mohsin Hamid and a few others and he likes Paulo the most. But I’m sure that I’m his favorite writer because his favorites and mine because they are same.
I advise him to do something worthy in life that really pays you back. And whenever I say it, his ears get deaf; some pitchy scream starts roaring his head and he gets creepy feelings inside his nails till I finish my lecture. I’m not sure whether or not his ears bleed. He just hates advises that focus his future.
I also keep messegin him the lines that come to my mind (Jab aamad hoti hai). The reason is that my phone has a tiny memory. Besides, I send him so to make him have the idea of the structure of my themed-lines around which I built stories. So he is learning the need of a whole story just to express a tiny thing.
I don’t much know about his concepts about Love but I know that his love is always one-sided, unsaid. Once, I had seen him going wild and impatient for a teen-girl who hosted a TV show on Geo. The show was hell boring, and his love was hell blind. He always watched it till the end. Later, he started developing some delicate feelings for Katrina Kaif.
He stayed under her spell for quite long and finally gave up on her one day when he came across VJ Mahira – a bone of contention between brothers like us. Then, his life was all about Mahira. He ate, breathed, and drank all the things that have Mahira written over. He also downloaded her wallpapers to his cell phone, which he watched carefully before going to sleep every night. But like always, his love died. This time, it died after hearing that Mahira is already married.
It banged his life up, broke his dreams to pieces and his spirits just evaporated out of his soul. It was a tough time for him, of course; and he had gone far away from a normal-social life.
He thought love is a relationship. But he didn’t know that love is more than just a relationship. Due to this deadly ignorance, he started wasting his life. Like all the losers, he too was about to indulge himself in vodka, wine, bitches and weed but then, fortunately, he met Sara Zara on his TV screen. She has won some singing competition somewhere and he just lost his heart right there – love at first sight. Now, his phone has a good collection of Sara’s beautiful voice.
Things He Avoids
- Making Sense
- Rocking Saturday Nights
- Shaking his booty
- Shaking legs and beating soles to the floor when we both are face to face with techno, dance and uplifting psychedelic trance sessions
- Winking as well as whistling at hot chicks on Fashion TV (Paris)
- Sleeping till 4pm
- Keeping a lighter – He believes that the fire looks better when it is in your heart rather than you pockets
- Replacing a pack stuffed with 20 Cigs every two days
- Getting high or HIGH
- Trying ecstasies and risks
- Sharing and Generosity
- Avoiding edibles when he is not hungry
- Singing in his heavy voice with an ‘Aaaan” factor because it sounds like his vocal cords are located somewhere in his nosy(Lol. I too sound alike btw. So, dude, don’t take it on your heart)
- Expressing his feelings wildly or naturally
- Replying late to texts messages and missed calls
- Telling his Mom that he loves her the most
- Saying that he wants me to be his best friend
- Etc. (Yeah, the list has length
The Way He is Treated by This Cruel World
I don’t want to say anything about others because I’m bad at others. But I must confess that I have not been nice to him most of the times. I feel sorry for not answering most of his weird questions; for taking out my frustration on him by taunting, passing angered gestures which made him feel that he has made a mistake; for ignoring him at times when I wanted to spend time alone; and for not loving him as much as he loves me. I used to criticize him a lot, which might have damaged some of his natural traits, and I feel sorry if that’s the case. But he knows me and bears with me because he knows that I love him too. Anyway, he is good. But he ain’t better than me. And I’m better because he follows me. The day he starts following himself, we two might compete.
Come on, dude! You know that I’m your best friend and a brother. Remember this, and fuck every single problem of yours – try trusting my friendship. Godspeed!