Thursday, May 31, 2007

Once in a...

Full Sturgeon, Harvest, Hunters, Cold, Wolf, Snow, Worm, Pink, Flower and finally Blue Moon. According the Farmer's Almanac these are the names of all the full moons that I have experienced since acting out The Alchemist. It can be experienced at different times depending on where you are geographically situated. Back home there was a Blue Moon but I won't get it until the end of June.

The phrase, "Once in a blue moon" was noted down many moons ago ;) It usually refers to infrequent occurrences, though not truly rare. Two have two moons in one month is not at all uncommon, it occurs on average, about every 32 months.

I am in Lahore preparing myself to cross over into India once again. I have been working a little bit lately so my time has been spent sweltering in the heat drinking lots of water and keeping my eyes open with toothpicks. I want to finish this project so I can once again decompress and resume flowing.

I've been stuck in my head with plans, thoughts and worry - the quote I keep hearing is "Life happens when you're busy making plans". So I am embracing the real experiences as they come. Ouch... that hurts. Something I only want to hear once in a blue moon...

Tuesday, May 29, 2007

A day in the life...

It's been a while since I wrote last and it will take a while to recollect what happened since: I got my flight the next morning from Gilgit; landed in Rawalpindi and then headed back to Islamabad; stayed there a couple days or sum such amount and then hooked a ride with a train down to Lahore; spent the weekend in Lahore; was India bound after the weekend but I went back to Islamabad; now I'm here and tomorrow I head back to Lahore. There, all caught up on locations - now the details.

My mom told me how much I've grown up today. A relative tried to coerce my cousin Anjum to get me to cut my hair and he told them where to go. He accepts me for what/who I am and says that my hair is part of me and would hate to see it go, it was cheered on by everyone at the table. Overheard in a conversation that my father's greatest gift to Pakistan was me. My family surprises me when I least suspect it ;)

The past week has been filled with just running around and taking care of the small details, the fine print. My attention was needed back in Islamabad and I don't know when I'll make it to India. I'll make it there when I'm supposed to I guess ;) I have had to make unplanned twists and turns in my programme and that's just allowing for it to unfold. I don't know where I'm going, I don't know when I'll be back and I forgot how to even say I don't know, but I'm glad I've remembered. What's my next move? I don't know. Try it... it's great. I don't know...

Surrounded by family and surprise visits, I have not appreciated them enough in my experiences since I left Canada. I was holding my little 19 month old niece started crying knowing I had to leave, I really have become part of the family. My father was so adamant about family in his last few months on this earth and I just didn't get it. I thought I grasped at what he was trying to communicate and imbue but it didn't register until today. It made it's guest appearances in the past but nothing like what found me - it was nice to feel Professor Sheikh Parvez Wakil (may peace be upon him and may he be in everything) in full force throughout my day. I was told of an old proverb that my father on occasion had used and fits quite nicely...

Poh patna

(light breaks for a new day)

Monday, May 21, 2007

Cancel that...

My flight was cancelled this morning :( I had a strange premonition that it would be but I chalked it up to my over active imagination and tried filing it at the back. This means that I get to spend a dreary day in Gilgit; not that Gilgit is all that dreary but the skies are overcast with drizzly mist falling. I would have much rather liked to spend one more day in Passu, now that would have been utilizing my time well.

This is the fourth flight in the past week that has been cancelled from here. I remember looking up information on Gilgit when I was coming up here and reading someone's blog and that they waited a week before they could get out of Gilgit ;) Well, Insh'Allah there will be clear skies tomorrow morning and will get to experience the mountain ranges from a new perspective.

"We find after years of struggle that we do not take a trip; a trip takes us." -John Steinbeck, Travels With Charley

Sunday, May 20, 2007

A moment to get...

Stillness speaks...

Head in the clouds...
Originally uploaded by iamkhayyam.
Karmibad. What can I say? The tranquility of northern Pakistan is staggering. The people that you meet along the way are filled with a happiness that I can't quite explain. An elder gentleman said, "we are poor people, but we have big hearts". Understatement. The hearts are enormous and only filled with a goodness that I wish upon everyone.

After my sunrise hike I was exhausted. A nap ensued during the extreme warmths that the sun rained. That evening I was to head to Passu a little farther north and closer to the Chinese border. I eventually found my way to Passu a day after I wanted to be there, but what to do? The roads along the way were nearly barren if hadn't been for the other 'coasters' (15 passenger vans) along the way, nothing. Coming up through glacial landslides and narrowly navigating through the tightly dug pathway through it. The water of the river right up against the highway was an amazing backdrop for what surfaced around the corner. Massive mountain peaks topped off with snow caps. The pictures are beautiful captures but they do not capture the absolute mammoth proportions that these peaks reach. I am humbled being in such amazingness.

Passu is a very small village with a handful of guesthouses. I ended up setting up shop in Passu Inn. First stop in Passu and was recommended from Abbas, the young gentleman who runs KADO. So I jumped out in the rain and made it for the reception. Got myself a charming little room and waited for the rain to let up. It finally did and I walked out the door. Left or right? I chose left. Walked a few kilometers and decided there wasn't anything worth seeing. Then the daisies made their appearance and reminded me what they represent to me and knew that I wasn't alone. When I was huffing and puffing up the mountain, I wasn't alone; when I was saluting the sun, I wasn't alone; and when I retire to sleep, I'm not alone. I decided to turn back, there was suspension bridge or the Pasu Glacier I could go quickly see before the darkness settled in. The suspension bridge sounded like the best option. I met a young man on the road who was very well educated and spoke pristine English. He offered me some tid bits about this and that around the way, he invited me for chai ;) I had to keep on going and so I did through the twists and turns of the KKH (Karakoram Highway). I finally see the bridge and I'm getting close. I finally get the point at which I think I can get to it and walk down a mountain only to find more mountain filled with cliffs. I opted to go back, I figured 16 kilometers was good for a warm up.

When I got back to the guesthouse the power was still out. Four people were huddled in the dark and I heard a "Hello" come from one of them. We began introducing to one another in the dark. Travellers. Paul from Canada, Oliver from Germany, Francesca from Switzerland and Veronica from France. We were all famished and went to order our meals. The guesthouse owner told us the cook went home and that we'd have to go down the road to Glacier Breeze guesthouse and restaurant. I am so thankful that the cook wasn't there because I got to enjoy my first real Hunza meal. There was walnut and apricot pasta salid, Ghalmandi (thin chipati's cooked in apricot oil filled with yak cheese and mint), Hunza pie (spicy vegetable pie, spicy...), apricot juice made from real apricots. Top notch, all of it from top to bottom (I forgot to take pictures for you Gogal). The five of us engaged in our travels stories bringing back the camaraderie that is shared by the warriors. It was delightful to hear more stories of the north of Pakistan, places I wish to see.

The five of us moved out of the guesthouse we were in and moved down the valley to Hunza Peak Inn ;) This immaculate little guesthouse was just perfect and even more so when we met Akbar Shah. A retired military officer with a smile that doesn't seem to slip of his face. So accommodating, thoughtful and caring. We had breakfast together and set out on our day of trekking to a couple suspension bridges and a lake. I managed to fall off five feet from a cliff I was trying to get around and landed in a thorn patch. Poked and bleeding I continued on like a good boy scout should. Then came another obstacle, a gigantic boulder in the way. I decided to drop a large stone in the water and use it as a step to get around the boulder. It just dropped with the hollow thud. I decided that I had already signed up for more than I asked for so I jumped into the glacial water and went into thermal shock from how cold that water was.

The destination was no where near the excitement of that of the journey, but alas, we arrived. The suspension bridge. A few cables strung from one end to the other with dried out old and brittle looking wood. I was a bit apprehensive about going but then just walked out without holding the side cables. My balancing act was cut short when the winds blew through the valley and nearly knocked me over. I grabbed on to one side of the bridge and closed my eyes. The feeling of flying was never so comfortable.

I crossed back and left the others behind. I watched from an elevated perspective a yak crossing the river. These men had harnessed up a three stage crossing for this yak using ropes and linking them with the bridge. The final portion of the river that the yak had to cross was the deepest. The current pulled him a hundred yards down stream and must have been submerged for almost a minute; I could barely handle 30 seconds knee deep in that water. I can now say that I've witnessed my first river crossing Yak experience ;)

By this time I was exhausted after climbing up the mountain to get back to the highway. I flagged down the first vehicle I came across, a chicken truck ;) As I was rolling down the hills I managed to find Paul, then a bit onwards, Oliver and Francesca. We were all about The Murghi Express and heading back to the valley. We stopped in at our favorite Hunza restaurant and had some impressive Apricot Cake.

Arrived back at the guesthouse and found three Australians who had ridden their motorcross bikes from Australia ;) We shared in motorcycle stories and they couldn't express how impressed they were with how fabulous Pakistan was. I couldn't agree with them more, at least Northern Pakistan. There is nothing like it and the hearts are very big... made me feel right at home, just lovely.

Wednesday, May 16, 2007

What a funk...

Upon arrival...
Originally uploaded by theusual.
I can't believe the funk that I had created for myself the last few weeks in Islamabad. I've since done a complete one-eighty and am on top of the world, literally. I am where the three highest mountain ranges in the world converge.

I was delayed in Gilgit one day because I was in such a rush to meet the ride up here that I didn't have time to go to an ATM machine (oh ya, that's right, forgot to mention I have a bank card once again;) I was assured that there was one in Gilgit. There was one but there are two links that exist here, one being for local and the other for international. I was not lucky in that department and couldn't get a cash advance on the plastic because I don't have a PIN for that ;) So lucky I know people in high places. My cousin in Islamabad, Inam (Anjum) works for National Bank of Pakistan and the gentlemen who was hosting me in Gilgit is the Vice-President of the branch. They arranged for a wire transfer of some sorts and that is what I was waiting for. Lucky I am.

So I'm fully stacked with cash and was off to Karimabad in the Hunza Valley. My mom was so happy to hear that I added this to my list of destinations. I spoke with her on the phone and I could feel her smile boom through the phone. I had two gentlemen from the bank escort me to the bus stand and took care of me royally, Habib Sahib and Sheikh Akbar Shah.

When I arrived in Karimabad after a fantastic three hour trip through the valley I was set up with the president of the NBP here in Karimabad. He made sure that I was well taken care. He came along with me to the hotel and spoke on my behalf. Since I was his 'mehman' (guest) the accommodations ended up being free of charge?! I am staying at a very nice place called Park Hotel in Karimabad, so if you're ever in these parts of the woods make sure you stay here ;)

The air here is so fresh, so clean. I feel an amazing power here. I went for a sunset walk through the main bazar and then on the backside of one of the ridges to plot out my course for tomorrow morning. I am going to wake up around five thirty and hike up the mountain side to the Eagle's Nest and enjoy the sun coming over the Golden Peak, Rakaposhi ridge and the rest of the wonderous peaks that are snow covered. I have no set programme for my stay here but Hunza Valley is full of glaciers, mountains, valleys, forts and a bunch of other stuff I will find to occupy my time. Gilgit was beautiful, but this is something else. To stay or not to stay longer... I'm funked if I do, funked if I don't...

Sunday, May 13, 2007

Flow, don't push...

Karakoram Highway
Originally uploaded by theusual.
Great words of wisdom... and so I followed them. I was presented with a spur of the moment opportunity to make a fourteen hour road journey on the Karakoram Highway to enjoy the majestic wonders of this northern Pakistan. The words 'nature is our ally' kept playing through my head.

The trip to Gilgit began with being introduced to three men whom I've never been acquainted with prior to this high way. A Toyota Landcruiser and three men I don't know from a hole in the ground, this would prove to be an interesting road trip. These men all worked for National Bank of Pakistan and were colleagues with my family. They were quite quiet which was nice for it meant that there was no need for unnecessary or forced conversation. I sat with my thoughts trying to analyze them while being bounced back and forth; not sure if it was the vehicle or me doing it. We drove through Taxila which I had visited recently and the surroundings were comforting and familiar. We drove by the store fronts and passed by the statues/lawn ornaments. There is this one that if I could I would buy and ship back home. No one would understand the purchase and I can already see the heads shaking. It's a cat, rather, a panther sitting on it's hind legs in a royal attentive position with it's mouth open roaring. The exceptional part of this cat is that it is coated with thousands of square cut mirror pieces. I didn't buy it and I won't... stop shaking your heads ;)

As we were driving through Taxila I recognized the man who was moments ago in my thoughts and here he was riding a bike turning onto the main road as we drove by. When we were visiting the Sirsukh remains he was our ominous looking guide who had the most amazing gold rings on his right hand that I took pictures of. Interesting that moments before he only existed as a memory in my head and moments later manifested to cross my path. Power of thought is something else I tell you. I'll try it again... hmmm... right now I'm thinking of something that means the world to me- it's not shoes, so that narrows it down ;)

Mansera was the next town we passed through, or at least tried to. Traffic had been halted due to some construction or repair. We sat there forever, I even saw ants on the road passing us. Finally, Shahid Sahib, the driver, exhibited his exemplary driving skills and maneuvered his way through the bakwas. We were on our way once again. Further up the road we cam to a kebob stand where we placed a drive-thru order... kebobs, check... 7up, check. Let's go. Around half and hour to forty five minutes later we stopped at a very quaint rest stop to enjoy the now cold kebabs, 7up and a spot of tea. Tea was finished and away we go...

Next stop was Dulas for a short pit stop involving more tea and some prayers. A peak of a mountain was the background along with a bridge which was full of kurtas belonging to old men going to and fro. The water rushing by made the most melodic noise and had to just close my eyes and listen. Prayers were finished, tea was barely drank but we were on a schedule. Twisting and turning through the postcard sights, I was now experiencing those postcards. I snapped picture after picture with most of them coming out blurred having been bounced uncontrollably from the debris of landslides. At this point the fatigue and the company of those that missus not to mention the music that jogged my memories allowed me to start wandering into fits of slumber. It was dark out and whenever I would open my eyes and the stars illuminated the sky with dark outlines of the mountains blocking out the twinkling lights. I imagine I will be blown away with the views that I have when I wake...

What a country! ;)

Thursday, May 10, 2007

The Family Man...

I have had the glorious opportunity to raise three girls having the ages of seven years, eighteen months and five months. I have literally been Mr. Mom and loving every minute of it.

My three nieces are the most precious beings that I've been fortunate to spend time with over these past three and half weeks. In one night alone I had all three of them crying and frustrated with everything and anything. To be in that moment and not have any frustrations, anger or tension and replace it with love, acceptance and understanding was a triumphant moment. My mom called while I was rocking the youngest one to sleep and thanked her for all the frustration and worry I put her through, all the diapers she changed, all the crying she had to endure. She told me that she was long over that and she had other worries now... Oh, mom... ;) I was raised with a very lenient set of parents that allowed me to grow quite freely. I'm not saying there weren't moments of a strict law, fear mongering and some old ways that were handed down. We all have our disturbed childhoods because we are the ones that get to define them. And as my brother once told me, our adult lives are spent trying to cope and deal with those memories we created.

I've got them sorted now and am looking forward to bringing miniature little Khayyam's into the world bouncing about with their springy hair and lofty ways. The running joke of me having multiple wives and girlfriends in various countries have given explanations to my relatives as to why I am 'expert' with the kids. They can think what they want, but I have to equate my expertise with the fact that I found that innocence that children possess and it lives with great passion within me.

My initial definition of success has been altered severely and now understand what it means. Had it not been for all the mistakes to learn from, the family to influence and the events to have occurred, I'd still think that working my fingers to the bone to amass copious amounts of dollars so that I could have my 2.3 kids, white picket fence while dawning a box top fade, glasses and a pocket protector was the way. The best thing about the way is that there is no way, no wrong or right, no good or bad, it's all of it and it's up to us to lead the way.

Lead by the way you live...

Tuesday, May 08, 2007

Souled Out...

My acescency towards my stay in Pakistan has dwindled into the faintest after taste, but one thought of it's stench brings me whirling back. Good thing the pollen count is so high and my nasal passages have been unable to detect the smells of my surroundings ;)

The complacency and numbness of my existence in Pakistan has indeed taken a toll on me, the price - I've souled out from being a traveller, a fool. My schedule consists of waking up at six or seven, checking some emails, going to my new office where I have been providing consultancy services to the Pakistan Engineers Society, going to this place and that place running errands that aren't mine with relatives, then spending exuberant hours with facebook when I should be reading a book or trying to squeeze in some creative works. By the time I realize it, it's three in the morning and realize that I need some sleep in order to repeat Groundhog Day.

I have felt no desire to create as of late which has been my sanctuary, even my sanctuary has been invaded. When I sit down to concoct something that has been flowing through my thoughts, my mind goes blank. When I want to express some thought or experience through writing, I have no motivation.

I feel tired and drained of energies. If I were to have only 100 units of energy in a day, I've used them up by 9am. I hear loud talking, tension in the air, cars honking, people screaming, power outages - the common everyday in the sub-continent. However, what I found to be the most glorious of chaotic harmony is now fingernails on a chalkboard. I am allotted 100 units to use wisely throughout my day and currently going into debt. Debt is a horrible way to exist with it's lingering tension. I am changing my environment and have enrolled in a quick debt reduction program of travel. Does anyone know if there is a karmic debt reduction plan? I definitely need to reduce that one, sooner the better ;)

I have had one medium in which to share my existence and it has been my saving grace (thank you). I am feeling the blood course through my veins and my breath is steady and supportive. My mom tells me she loves me, my love tells me I'm loved, my friends tell me they love me and my imaginary friends tell me they love me, except in different languages ;) The allergies and sinuses are clearing up and I can faintly pull in the perfumed garden once again.

So I have received my Indian visa, my NICOP card is on it's way and am packing away clothes that will encumber my travels. Reducing the weight and excess so that I can start trudging about as a wandering traveller. No plans, no guides, just a backpack and a desire to experience the experiences...

Sunday, May 06, 2007

An Old Skool...

Da mayor don't bother nobody and nobody bother da mayor...

Let me tell you the story of "Right Hand, Left Hand." It's a tale of good and evil. Hate: It was with this hand that Cane iced his brother. Love: These five fingers, they go straight to the soul of man. The right hand: the hand of love. The story of life is this: Static. One hand is always fighting the other hand; and the left hand is kicking much ass. I mean, it looks like the right hand, Love, is finished. But, hold on, stop the presses, the right hand is coming back. Yeah, he got the left hand on the ropes, now, that's right. Ooh, it's the devastating right and Hate is hurt, he's down. Left-Hand Hate K.O.ed by Love.

Friday, May 04, 2007

May the Fourth be with you...

40 acres & a mule...
Originally uploaded by theusual.
I met an English chap at the Embassy and got along swimmingly with him. He invited me out to his home in Kallar Syedan ( which is about forty kilometers outside of Rawalpindi. He just described exactly what I needed. Serenity of birds chirping, beautiful naturescapes and a once in a blue moon chance to experience village life in Pakistan. I had been starved for the spontaneity and here it was. The hills and valleys in what is known as 'tribal' areas but I later was in formed housed all the thiefs, dacoits and murderers ;)

Imran called me while he was still in Rawalpindi and on his way home. Fortunately I had just finished visiting my Tayyee Ji and so I was game for an adventure; adventure is what we had. Night driving on the thinner than usual roads of Pothwar and then traversing the off roading of boulders and carved out roads to his home almost had me gripping the dashboard, almost.

When I walked into the courtyard it literally was a scene out of a Bollywood movie. I met his brother, Zaheer, who was the reason for the family coming to visit from the UK. He was married less than two weeks ago. We stayed up chatting about this or that and finally we all retired for the evening after they told me of the ghosts that wonder about their land and visit them. Most people would be scared but I was looking forward to a chance meeting with the unexplainable. I slept outside under the slendering full moon, crickets, bugs and whatever other instruments that were part of the symphony of nature.

I woke up to the rooster call and the sun rising over the trees and popping through the low cloud cover. The morning was met with their father who was quite the laid back character, how could it be otherwise being in this area?! That morning's drama was that the pump to the well had broken and a group of men fiddled away with it trying to repair it. Lowering the motor down the shaft of the well and then to see a man scale the side to install it was my morning entertainment. I had an amazing whole grain paratha that I've never tasted before and those farm eggs were splendid - real farm cookin...

It came at the right time and slowed everything down to the point where I could hear again. I put my face to the wind and listened...

I got my answers ;)

Thursday, May 03, 2007

Visa accomplished...

I walked up to the counter and there were five people waiting in line. I had urgently needed to release the pressure on my bladder, but I thought to myself that it is worth it to sit out the five people instead of the fifteen that might be there when I came back. I did my dance then stopped thinking about it and I was finally relaxed. I sat there visualizing my turn walking up to the window, smiling and saying thank you for seeing my visa glued into my passport was what I saw. The gentleman at the window recognized me right away and smiled. He retrieved my confirmation letter from the Canadian High Commission and told me to give him my passport. I told him that the office already had my passport which he responded to with a firm, "No."

What I had envisioned moment before had none of this in it. The fellow behind me asked if I was from America. I told him politely that I was from Canada. He didn't have to tell me where he was from as the thick London accent poured through his lips and over his tongue. I explained briefly what had gone on and just then the man behind the glass in the air conditioned office whose cool air was escaping through the tiny hole informed me that he indeed had my passport. He opened it up and there is was in all it's glory, a stamp that was finally glued in place. I thanked him, smiled and was on my way.

As I was walking away admiring the handwriting on my visa I stopped admiring when I came across the word SINGLE. They had issued me a single entry visa when I had applied for a multiple entry visa. I was informed by both Pakistani and Canadian High Commissions that because I applied in Pakistan I am only given a single entry. If I needed a multiple, only my home country would have been able to accommodate me.

This throws me off kilter. Everything happens and for reasons unknown to me at times, but I'll accept it and see where it goes.

It is easy to be pleasant when life flows by like a song, but the man worth while is the one who will smile when everything goes dead wrong. For the test of the heart is trouble, and it always comes with years, and the smile that is worth the praises of earth is the smile that shines through the tears. -Irish saying

Wednesday, May 02, 2007

Back to back sentences...

Imprisonment. That is what I've been feeling and the bitterness of a thousand lemons resides in my chest at the moment. Not like me to be bitter, but this country is wearing extremely thin on me. I think I've complained here and there and as I write this feel no need to rant on about what rubs me like 80 grit sandpaper any longer. It's like one of those letters you write and choose not to send.

The days seem to roll by effortlessly with me doing absolutely nothing. Regularly I invite the bliss of nothingness into my life but I can't accept being in a house all day without venturing anywhere except the internet. I am ready to throw this computer at someone if it weren't for one of two reasons that I need my I.V. of one's and zero's. I have had the accumulating weight of anger on my shoulders and as they say there is a straw that will break the camel's back. I think I managed to find that last straw. There is a wise man that rings into my ears as I write these words, "Each day gets better". Ain't that the double truth Ruth?!

I just want to leave this country. What was once beauty has turned into a beast.

It's coming up to Monsoon season in India and I don't like continuous rain, the bottom of your trousers always get wet and it's so difficult to care for shoes ;) So I have no idea what my plans are other than vacating the Islamic Republic of Pakistan as soon as I can. One of the determining factors remains to be the lackadaisical staff at the Indian High Commission. They have my passport but have forgotten about the big note on the front of my application that states to contact me when the work is complete. Lesson in having expectations ;)

The other matter that has really kept me here is my NICOP card which I can't leave the country with. My visa expired long ago and visa extension seemed to be the best solution. Aftere $66 US dollars I arrived at the visa office only to be told they need another $50 for a multiple entry visa. The only reason I opted for this route was so that I could leave the country and come back at a later date to retrieve my identity card. So, here I've ended up waiting a full month for it and over forty days for the visa. The funny thing is that it took less than a few hours for the Indian High Commission in Canada to approve and clear my visa. The staff here must be having a hell of time finding a glue stick to affix the visa into my passport ;) Every time I visited the High Commission here they promptly offered me some kind of reason for the delay, every time something different. They spewed out some tutty just so they could prove their authority. I've become quite proficient in the dialect of bureaucratise and offer the answer to all their suggestions, with a smile of course. They offered me a job ;)

My sanctuary exists in a world of magic, headphones and continuous creative jobs that keep flowing in. Thank you to those that fuel my sanity, you have no idea what it means to vanish from everything for what seems like an eternity. I am very grateful.

You must not for one instant give up the effort to build new lives for yourselves. Creativity means to push open the heavy, groaning doorway to life. This is not an easy struggle. Indeed, it may be the most difficult task in the world, for opening. ~Daisaku Ikeda

Tuesday, May 01, 2007

I am not a terrorist...

Like my life couldn't get any worse. A judge jailed five "cruel and ruthless" Britons for life on Monday for plotting al Qaeda-inspired bomb attacks on targets across Britain ranging from nightclubs to trains and a shopping center. One of the five was named Omar Khyam, the alleged ring leader. Isn't that a slice of pie?! ;) It's taken almost forty days to get my Indian visa, took me a month to get out of India to begin with because of this whole terrorist thing. So in case of my mistaken identity as a terrorist I am posting this letter to whomever is so illogical to think a fuzzy haired swaggering cat from Canada who calls a backpack a home wants to think I have some ulterior motives.

Dear Captor,

I, Khayyam Wakil, am not affiliated with any strange or bizarre groups that have any intentions to inflict harm on any human being (innocent or guilty). I also would like to inform you that none of my family is involved with any terrorist cells or organizations as far as my knowledge extends into their fairly risk averse lifestyles.

I do admit to setting off fireworks in a heavily tree filled area when I was sixteen resulting in a small fire, very small. This is the extent of my terrorist activities. Does it count if you've been terrorized by bullies? I guess I'd be the victim, forget that statement then. I once again emphatically deny any accusations that I am in any way, shape or form involved with any other person who would be willing to end life.

If you need references there are several complete and thorough investigations on me available with the Indian Police in New Delhi, Port Blair and Havelock Islands. In addition you will be able to find a concise C.I.D. report with the government of India. Since those reports I am confident that if you contact the US&A or Canadian governments they will have updated copies of my file(s).

I would also like to fight this battle on tourism, I am here solely for the purpose to smile and travel,

Thank you for your cooperation in this matter.
Khayyam Wakil

cc: The Canadian High Commission, High Commissioner

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