Muddleheaded's Weblog

Can Confrontation be a Postive Practice?

2009-04-16T02:44:00.002+06:00

As stated in most of the dictionaries, confrontation is 'a dispute, fight or a battle between two people or a group of people'. But I believe there is always a more comprehensive meaning to every term we use in everyday life. So does confrontation. There is a lot more to it than just a dispute.

There can be two modes of confrontation; confronting others and confronting yourself. Confronting people is relatively an easy task. People accuse, blame, and yell at each other all the time and with quite an ease. They don’t even analyze the actual causes of the issues which act as stimuli to confrontation. The usual reasons are biases, prejudices, misconceptions and inability or unwillingness to see through the problems. The outcome in this case is disastrous. It involves risks of strained relationships and probability of your reputation as an arrogant and mean personality. Even if you are right in confronting people, you will still have to face many if not all of such blemishes. People don’t like to be confronted generally.

Does that mean we should not confront at all? Well the answer is we should do it. But when we do, we must be sure of it. We must not think judgmentally. Judging people and situations makes our opinions unreliable and prone to break down. Then, confronting someone does not mean we do it for the sake of accusing or blaming. Reach out to the basics and inner core of the problem. Even if we think that the other person is the cause of the problem, we must learn why so and so has done or said such thing? We must realize the consequences also which are described above. May be then we are able to do our homework in a better way.

If we are right and logical in our apprehensions, then it's a win-win situation. We propose our case, we provide evidence and logic and the wind is in our side. Confronting people can prove to be very positive depending upon all the factors discussed above. The last factor is the capability of the person you are confronting. A person who is open to criticism proves to be an easy one to get him/her, understand the things.

Contrary to this, confronting ourselves involves almost no risk which can affect others. It is only we who would be affected and that too for good most of the times. The solution to any problem lies in identifying the problem, as they say. The next step is to come face to face with it. It's like a war; where two forces had identified each other’s strengths and weaknesses while they were in peace time and now they have come face to face with each other. It is at this time when they exploit each other. So are our very own selves. This can not be done while residing inside our selves. We have to come out of ourselves, come out of hiding, and throw away the veils of ego and false self respect. Be disrespectful to ourselves for a while in a whole day. Confront ourselves of whether it was I who were the source of conflict? Be on the other side of the line and watch ourselves from there. It is difficult. It is arduous. It threats the edifice which we have been erecting since long. It can shake our very own basis. So we are terrified of confronting ourselves. However, if we succeed in doing that, it will be the most direct and consequential approach towards betterment of our selves.

It will be a life long learning experience. It will save us from the strenuous task of protecting ourselves from the opinions and judgment of others. It will even prevent us from confronting others as it is a phase which must be initiated prior to confronting others. If we find ourselves at wrong then there is no need of going to the next phase. Hence, it will project us as a constructive and optimistic human being for them.

Restoration of Judges - A Waking Pakistan

2009-03-16T14:25:00.000+05:00

Chief Justice and other judges have been restored finally under the immense pressure of people. Pakistani nation has once again proven that it still has resilience in it to compel the political powers to decide according to the will of the people of Pakistan. I have seen and heard so many political and social analysts being pessimistic about Pakistani nation. But I ask them today to comment on what we have seen yesterday on 15th March 2009. The Pakistan People’s Party government had gone overboard by putting every hurdle in the way of protestors but people at large were firmly determined to put everything down.

When it all started a couple of days ago in south of country, we saw the crack down of police and other law enforcing agencies in Karachi and other cities. I, like so many others became depressed because apparently the government was successful in pushing down the pressure which was built up for Long March. But I had a little hope that these people from Sindh and Baluchistan will not let their struggle die down. I was optimistic that they will join with people of Punjab and ultimately it will all end up in Islamabad. This was what we have witnessed. After the start of long march from Lahore, so many delegates from Sindh, Baluchistan and NWFP flew in or traveled by other means to Rawalpindi and Islamabad.

I am not a fan of PML (N) or for that matter Sharif Brothers, but one must give them credit for their resolution towards restoration of judges. Had Mian Nawaz Sharif not come out of house arrest forcefully, we might not be watching people rejoicing these moments as I write down here. At least Mian Sahib has learned a few lessons while he was in exile. And I can not even negate this thought that this whole Long March episode might be just one of his political tactics but even then I welcome it.

I intended this post not to be a credit giving article but how can I forget the back bone, the blood and the flesh of this movement – the lawyers. These are the people who are true well wishers of Pakistan. The best part about them is that they don’t have any interests so far but to empower people of Pakistan. Rather a few of them like Aitzaz Ehsan have lost their positions in their respective political parties. They were on the roads, being tear-gassed, beaten, and threatened long before when political parties came in and joined hands with them. They are the perfect example of Pakistani middle class who have sacrificed their time, their efforts, and even their blood and soul for Pakistan. There is a hip slogan these days that a lawyer had made Pakistan and now lawyers have saved it as well. It's very much true. This lawyer movement, which has come to its destiny now, has injected that life, thrill, confidence and trust in minds of people of Pakistan that they are not the weaker ones. They are not the ones whose will and wish could always been purged away. They can make themselves to be listened. They have proven that it's they who shall decide the destiny of their country and not those few who are sitting in the palaces.

Lawyers have shown us the silver lining and now I have a feeling that I am not alone to have a wish to give a better Pakistan to my next generation. I have many around me. God Bless Pakistan.

Ali Moeen Nawazish - This is Pakistan

2009-02-12T09:11:00.064+05:00

In the present scenario of Pakistan's many faceted turmoils, it was really a refreshing news. Ali Moeen Nawazish who hails from Rawalpindi, Pakistan has made a record in Guinness Book of World Records. He took a whole bunch of 23 subjects for his A-levels examination and made a world record of passing in all of the 23 subjects. Adding to this, he not only just passed them but actually claimed straight A's in 21 of the subjects, while B and C in other two.Watch his interview to BBC here:

Even earlier in O-levels he had secured 9 A-grades. But he was determined to do even more for himself, his parents and his country. And yes indeed he did. Now he is studying Computer Science at Cambridge although he has achieved a top score in US admission tests and got accepted by most of the Ivy League insitutions, including Harvard and Yale.

This is a slap on the face of word which is trying to build an image of Pakistan otherwise. Pakistan is more than what most of the ignorant people think. Ali Moeen Nawazish has proven that Pakistanis are a resilient nation and they have the highest potential to do the extra-ordinary and even impossible, if one believes in something impossible.There are so many examples from history and in present day scenario too, but unfortunately they are forgotten or never come up to surface. A problem with the present day soceity is that no matter of how high caliber a person or a thing or a happening happens to be, it never catches attention of mass level until it is advertised in media. And sadly our government and our politicians are doing nothing in that. It was their duty to give him a huge amount of prize and other goodies to encourage him but state run TV hasn't said a word about him yet. Its so sad and raging. But this proves one thing, that our younger generation has guts to run the country. We will rock in future INSHA-ALLAH.

50 Things

2009-02-09T13:27:00.100+05:00

Finally, I have come back to my blog for a while. Actually I have been trying at some other places like Helium and an online journal which I will talk about some other time. Plus I have been writing at print media as well. So my blog has been at rest for quite some time now. Ritu and Tikuli were the one who pushed me actually to write something here... :) by tagging me on facebook notes... So here the actual tags goes:

Once you get tagged simply copy and paste into your own note andreplace my answers with your own. Once you have completed your own listplease send back by tagging me and however many of your friends. Justdo it!!

***. If you want to do it, then you can :)

1. WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE?

Not exactly. But my name is actually one of the names of Prophet Muhammad PBUH.

2. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED?
Well its been a year I guess... some where in February or so...

3. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING?
Yes I love it... I use different styles for every letter and I learned it hard way by years of practicing.

4. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCH MEAT?
Fish or for that matter any sea food.

5. DO YOU HAVE KIDS?
Nope.

6. IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON, WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU?
Yes I guess so, but I think it would be very hard... lol

7. DO YOU USE SARCASM?
Aaaall the time... :p

8. DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TONSILS?
Yes

9. WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP?
Yesssssssss.

10. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CEREAL
Maize.

11. DO YOU UNTIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF?
Yes. I am quite tidy.... :p

12. IF YOU WERE TO PICK YOU OWN FIRST NAME, WHAT WOULD IT BE?
I don't want to change at all. Not even in another life.

13. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM?
Mexican Almond Chocolate or Cherry Almond Chocolate Chunk Ice Cream.

14. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE?
Eyes, and movement of their brows.

15. RED OR PINK?
Red

16. WHAT IS YOUR LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT YOURSELf
My stubbornness...

17. WHOM DO YOU MISS THE MOST?
I don't discuss past normally.

18. DO YOU WANT EVERYONE TO COMPLETE THIS LIST?
Hmmm... Can't insist anyone as I got time very hardly to do this... so they might be busy as well.

19. WHAT COLOR PANTS AND SHOES ARE YOU WEARING?
Black.

21. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW?
Mrs. Robinson, Beatles.

22. IF YOU WERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE?
Blue or Gray.

23. FAVORITE SMELLS?
I'm fetish on all kinds of smells. Love soil, moss, husks at country side. These are few which are out of the way but I love every kind of fragrance which can be regarded as nice by anyone.

24. WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE?
My sister.

25. HOW DO YOU KNOW THE PERSON WHO SENT THIS TO YOU
Well, what else than the best discovery of my life, the blogosphere :)

26. FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH?
Soccer.

27. HAIR COLOR?
Dark Brown.

28. EYE COLOR?
Dark Brown.

29. DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS?
No.

30. FAVORITE FOODS?
Anything hot and spicy

31. SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS?
I used to love scary movies but not anymore.. they are soooo mundane... and Happy Endings
? forget it.

32. LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED?
RNBDJ.

33. WHAT COLOR SHIRT ARE YOU WEARING?
White with blue lining.

34. SUMMER OR WINTER
When its winter, I like summers... and in summers I yearn for winters... hahaha

35. HUGS OR KISSES
Depends... ;)

37. DESCRIBE YOUR PENCIL CUP
Something painted by yours truly with 'stain glass' paints.

38. FAVORITE ARTIST(s)?
Not any particular.. there are many......

39. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING NOW?
The Prophet by Khalil Gibran (more than 10th times I guess)

40. WHAT IS ON YOUR MOUSE PAD?
I dont have a mouse pad... I use touch pad which is black and blank.

41. WHAT DID YOU WATCH ON TV LAST NIGHT?
US Top Movies... or something like that.

42. FAVORITE SOUND(S).
A laughter inside a home in winters, sound of wind in mountains, flowing water in a quite place and lastly I can't forget the voice of crows in my school after the school hours when there is no one inside.....

43. ROLLING STONES OR BEATLES?
Beatles... had there more choices I would vote for Pink Floyd. They are better than Beatles.

44. WHAT IS THE FARTHEST YOU HAVE BEEN FROM HOME?
Well, I have never been out of my country yet, and I live in a small country :)

45. DO YOU HAVE A SPECIAL TALENT?
Yes. Reading people faces.

46. WHERE WERE U BORN?
Rawalpindi.

47. FAVORITE PIECE OF JEWELRY?
Well, of course I don't like ANYthing on myself but I like Punjabi Nose Pin women often wear.

48. HOW DID YOU MEET YOUR SPOUSE/SIGNIFICANT OTHER?
Hmmm... how can I know future... or was this tag meant for only committed people?? :s

49. FAVORITE SONG?
There are sooo many... but right now I would like to listen to The show must go on by Queens.

50. Favorite Musical?
Again boring question so I will pass this one. There are soo many.

P.S. Everyone who reads this tag HAS to do this at her/his own blog or otherwise I will curse you... hahaha

One Perfect Rose

2009-01-17T03:58:00.000+05:00

"Dorothy Parker" is an American poet. Her poems are usually simple, musical and contain diverse, critical and morphing contents. I stumbled upon one of her beautiful poems "One Perfect Rose". It contains three stanza and if you read all of them seperately, then each one of them gives a miles-apart-view. In the first two stanzas the reader feels that its some a romantic rambling of the poetess, but the third and the last stanza completely negates this aspect. I recorded its narration below. Do check it out, hope you would like it.

A single flow'r he sent me, since we met.
All tenderly his messenger he chose;
Deep-hearted, pure, with scented dew still wet--
One perfect rose.

I knew the language of the floweret;
"My fragile leaves," it said, "his heart enclose."
Love long has taken for his amulet
One perfect rose.

Why is it no one ever sent me yet
One perfect limousine, do you suppose?
Ah no, it's always just my luck to get
One perfect rose.

Money Makes Friends

2009-01-14T00:14:00.000+05:00

After office I went to have a nice sleep as I couldn’t sleep last night. But as I was in the transitional phase of losing my senses, I received a call from an unwanted person. Obviously that was the reason enough for me to not to go again to sleep. But still I kept on lying inside the bed waiting for it to come. It didn’t. So the thoughts kept on shifting inside and out of my brain which ended me writing about two people on blogosphere, whom I know. So here I am with this brand new "Chunklet".

They met on the very blogosphere. Kaf got impressed by Terry’s writing and outspoken style. He found that essence in her which he actually wanted. He always wanted to be open and blunt to his reader but he simply couldn’t. May be his eternal shyness was blocking his entire creativeness. Another thing which contributed in his immense liking towards her was the fact that she was one of the very first bloggers, he had ever met. And the first thing always remains first. It creates an everlasting effect. She liked his or not? That he didn’t know as usually people don’t criticize each other on blogs. It is considered bad for your own reputation. But sometimes he would read between the lines and he knew that she did like his style too.

So they kept on communicating each other somehow on internet and step by step they had found each other on other social networking websites. The communication was increasing day by day although they were thousands of miles apart from each other. They would exchange emails and chat online with each other.

After a few months, a time came when they both felt lethargic of commenting on each other’s blogs. Both didn’t mind the other though, as both were a little bit of disappointed. Not from each other but from the fact that since they have started blogging they have put Google’s Adsense on their blogs and they thought that they would be earning a few grand each month.

It came out when one day Terry emailed him inquiring about how much he earned through Adsense. His reply was US $ 1.9. 1.9 bucks in five god damned months? She burst out laughing at him and later on herself. She told him that it was the same story her side too. All the techniques to get people clicking on the ads had proven wrong. What was wrong then??? They couldn’t figure it out quickly. May be it was the genre they chose to write about because people are not willing to pay for the kind of stuff they write about.

Whatever was the material course of their companionship; one thing they were very sure of. They have found a very good friend in each other. Money had brought them closer. They still write but not for earning money but for their passion for writing.

Are You Biased?

2009-01-09T09:27:00.008+05:00

Formation of views about certain issues is necessarily a natural process. It just can not happen with our own intent. The experiences of life time make our views and it may take up to years. In the process the intervals between consecutive events may span large time differences. Physically, the specific information in our memory, in gray cells of our brain, might be stored at quite different places far from each other relatively. Hence, the connection between such memory chunks is usually weak. It depends upon the number of times we visit such chunks. The more we visit; the connection will be more vibrant and alive. It’s just like the web traffic to a web page. The more people visit a website, the more will be the chances of that website to be ranked higher in the search engines. Hence it is necessary for us to revisit pass in our leisure time. We often do that, sometimes intentionally and most of the time unintentionally.

Some times it happens that we are constantly thinking about something but we just can’t concentrate. Many would say that it is because of the external factors which do not let us so. But in fact, the internal factors always outnumber the external ones. The experiences on which our cognitive process carries on are placed sporadically at different points in our brain. Due to the weak links between them; we are unable to concentrate on the different results coming out from each of those experiences. Then the brain would also tend to be diverted to those 'unrelated issues' which have less or no connection with the initial or 'primary issue' but have strong connection with 'secondary issues' we are trying to probe in to. Two results come out of this. One; in the beginning, we would say “I am just unable to focus”, two; if we are affected by those strong but unwanted connections, we would be having biased views about issues.

Consider a simple example to understand it better. John interviews Sam and is reading his resume. John is looking for an MBA for his company and Sam is an MBA. John reads Sam’s experience profile and he feels satisfied as Sam has some five years of experience. John remembers that the company went to loss because of an inexperienced manager earlier. Then, John comes to know that Sam is good in IT networking also but there is a problem too. Sam has done his IT education from IT institute ‘X’. John had hired another IT expert three years earlier, who proved to be a prick for the company and he had obtained his IT education from the same IT institute ‘X’. John refuses to give the job to Sam.

Now, here ‘hiring a manager’ is the primary issue for John. Sam’s ‘experience’ and his ‘IT education’ are the secondary issues which are connected with the earlier experiences of John. The ‘experience’ goes in favor of Sam. But his IT education goes against him. Why? Because John correlated his place of studies with his moral values instead of relating his IT education as an extra expertise for which he has to hire a separate employee. The immorality of the ex-employee of John’s company has strong connection with his experience with John BUT it has minute connection with Sam at all. That’s where John’s verdict becomes biased.

The example is quite simple in its nature, just to understand the basics. We come across very complex situations every day. There can be innumerable unrelated issues connnected to secondary issues which are in turn connected to the primary issue. It all depends upon the capability of a person of how much of information she/he can process in a given period of time. It also depends upon how much of information a person can store in her/his short term memory. The ability to analyze the outcome of experiences and then to hold those outcomes in memory for further comparisons is what is important. It's a multifarious chain linking so many other such chains and making a web. The expertise is to get hold of the lose end of the web and not to get entangled in it.

The problem remains a problem until it is identified. I have tried to uncover those unidentified objects impeding a valid thought process. Was it helpful? Are you biased then? If yes then to what degree? While you muse about these questions, I promise to write the remedies of biased thoughts later some day.

Sakina - The Maid (IV)

2009-01-05T12:26:00.000+05:00

Earlier, Part-I, Part-II, Part-III

He tried to find work desperately and he found too but only for a few days. Staying at home and the tension of supporting the family increased the frustration in him. Sakina too started criticizing him for doing nothing. This was even more crucial for the relationship they had between each other. The money, they saved earlier, was being spent too quickly despite Sakina’s good management at home. A neighboring elderly woman had told Sakina that some Begum Sahiba needed a maid.

“Agar tu kahay toh mein Begum Sahiba se baat keron?” The woman asked her.

“Khala aj Samuel se baat keron gee mein, phir ap ko kuch bataon gee”

In the evening when he came home, she told him about the offer.

“Aur paisay bhee achay milein gay” She added.

His initial reply was “Koi zaroorat nehein hay tujhay kuch kernay ki”

But later she somehow persuaded him or may be he was unable not to succumb to the idea of her working and him staying at home.

So that’s when she landed in to the Begum Sahiba’s house and that was six years back, she remembered as she completed the work in the kitchen and packed for home. Her youngest kid, the sixth one and the rest too would be waiting for her.

“Ammi a gayee, ammi a gayee” Echoed the voices when she entered her rented house.

“Josephine...... Josephine...... kaakay ko idher la...” She yelled her name twice from the yard.

Josephine would take care of the youngest one when her mother would be away working. Sakina often thought that she was always unfair to her daughter. She always compared herself with her own mother. The thought would have taken her once again to her mother, but Samuel’s husky voice came from inside.

“Sakina... a gayee tu...” He came out.

The words were slurring from his tongue as he was in heavy dose of Heroin. She didn’t look at him for only his sight would be enough for her dismay. But how could she stop her mind. It all started when she began to work and he was staying at home looking after the infant Josephine. Empty mind is the devil’s workshop. So was his. He had ample time and that too on his own, with out her supervision. He befriended with the people who were already rejected from the society and indulged in to the same habits. He started smoking first and then led himself in to havoc by smoking Churse (marijuana) one day. But this was only a beginning. Soon he was addicted to every kind of stuff including Heroin. Initially she didn’t have knowledge and she thought that he would be fine soon. But later, she refused to give him any more money whenever he would come home. He would beat her as badly as he could. Ultimately she had to yield.

This was a very odd feeling for her. She always knew that she wouldn’t keep herself standing up for long. She knew that ultimately she would have to give him the money but even then she would linger it on until he would whack her. She was not just used to it but in fact she somewhat liked it. This likeness had come from the deep longing from within her - the longing for an attachment with a man. She never had a man ever in her life. Her father had died before her birth; she did not have any brother, not even any uncle or for that matter, any male in her family. All she had was her mother. She needed love of a man. But she needed scolding and cursing of a man too. She had love of her husband but she never had tasted the other way around. She had no experience in that and unseen venues always fascinated her.

Human mind is always curious to know the facts which are hidden to it. Her mind was working on the same lines too. There was this whole atypical aspect of love and belonging which she was unaware of. She wanted to experience that too. She had enough of the tenderness and caring attitude. She wanted to be taken over by him. She wanted to be a complete slave to him and she sure was a slave to him. She was working for running the house; she would take care of the kids; she would take care of her house; she would take care of him too, in every possible way. To fulfill her fantasies she would use his weakness – his addiction. She knew that he would come back to her to get money so that he can buy more of it and beat more of her body and she always waited for him for that.

One day, after being beaten by her husband, she went to work. Farhad, the Chotay Sahib saw her stigmatized all over her face.

“Sakina! aj phir tujhay us kameenay ne peeta hay?” He inquired.

She just looked at him with no signs of pleading sympathy and nodded.

“Tu usay police ke hawalay kion nehein kerwati? Mera aik dost aik NGO keliye kaam kerta hay. Mein us se keh ke us ko sabaq sikha sakta hon”

“Nehein jee is ki zarurat nehein... baree mehrbani ap ki” She replied.

She had refused his offer earlier as well. How could she accept that? She did not want to come out of what she had plunged in to.

The same day when she went home, he started whipping her again - striking her everywhere with thin sticks which acted like a whiplash and left several slanting scars all over her body. She won’t stop yelling at him and the kids, like always, started screaming like chimps in the woods. Josephine was hiding behind the door secretly though. The shouting of Sakina made him even wilder and he started kicking her with his shoes. He was looking like a lunatic. He didn’t notice that Sakina became silent and crumbling at that time and blood was pouring out. The neighbor woman who was looking from above the wall spotted that. She came at the very last moment, screaming and calling the other people who were listening to the screaming and yelling but were not paying heed. Samuel was rushing out of the house, still mumbling, when they carried her and took her to the nearby clinic.

The doctor refused to take over the case.

“Ap isay baray hospital lay jayein... mein kuch nehein ker sakta” The doctor said.

“Ray doctor sahib! Larki mer jaye gee wahan tak pohanchtay pohachtay... ap he kuch ker dein” The elderly woman who came along with pleaded.

“Amman! Yeh seedha seedha police ka case hay... kion meri rozi kay peechay per gaye ho aap log... jayein yahan se mein kuch nehein ker sakta” He gave his final verdict.

The doctors at district hospital took care of her immediately. She was pregnant and violent blows had shaken her womb badly. The baby was lost and she came back right from between the claws of death. Had it would be a little bit of more late, too much blood would be lost and she would have not withstood it all.

The incident was highlighted and people from some NGOs wanted to talk to her. But the police had to take her statement first. After the initial official questions, they came to the point.

“Toh bibi! Kya hooa hay yeh aap ko? Yeh sub kaisay hooa hay?” The officer inquired.

She looked away from the man and stared on to the wall for long, trying to find the appropriate answer. After a long pause she said:

“Sahib jee! Kya janena chahtay hein aap? Yehee na ke meray khawand nay mujhay peeta hay? Kaisay itna khoon baha hay? Kaisay mera bucha zaya hooa hay? Ap logon ko kya pata hota hay jee ghareeb logon ka... Ap ko toh case banana hay... Toh banayein case... per apna kaam asaan kerin aur mujh per bhee ehsaan kerein... likh dein ke Sakina chakar aanay se chhat say gir gayee... bus”

The police officer gave her one more day; just in case she wanted to change her statement. He came next day. NGOs came, reporters came and her Chotay Sahib and Begum Sahiba also came to see her. But she had only one thing to say;

“................ chhat say gir gayee thee jee. Allah ne karam kia hay per bari mushkil say bachi hon”

------ The End ------

Happy Year 2009 - A Message

2008-12-31T23:39:00.001+05:00

A very Happy 2009 to everyone. This year (as its still 2350 HRS as I write here) we might have seen a lot of worst and things of a little less than this degree, but I believe in seeing the matters in a little positive manner always. So while I sit back and rethink the past one year, I try not to recall and associate bad memories and odd times we all had in the past year. Sometimes, when I am stumbling upon such things, I try to bring out even he least of the positive stuff out of it (as its always there). I believe this is the only way to learn from life and carry on. Yes we can linger upon past for a while but only for learning and not to punish ourselves.

A message to all just before the beginning of the new year;

"Please learn to forgive people. Who knows who will be in this world the next day, the next hour and even the very next moment. We must not let any chance to go away".

I couldn't write much this night like I always do. But I am posting a poem in Urdu (apologies from non-urdu readers here) which I had written a few years earlier. However, it does not depict the present sentimental state ;)

Ik guzar gya, ik aur bhee beet jaye ga

Ik saal kya ehd-e-umar bhee ikhtataam paye ga

Hein aur bhee mausam saal ke sunta hon mein

Kya kabhi kya mausam-e-dil bhee badal paye ga?

Hay her jagtay lamhay, her khwaab ki her muskaan o aah mein

Tha kabhi socha woh is qadar yaad aye ga?

Ker dee yeh khata ke umeed-e-wafa dilai usay

Khabar thee kya ke apna bhee iman jaye ga

Saal ki pehli shub, athwein ka chaand, chandni kahan ki?

Gazb-e-aber dekha, yeh noor bhee chheena jaye ga

Chirian tinkay, mein yaadein ikathee ker raha hon

Woh qareeb-e-inteha, magar mujhay waqt lag jaye ga

Aber hay jo barasta toh barsay, akhir asmaan khul jaye ga

Yaad hay aaj aata, milan kal ho he jaye ga

May God bless you all....

Islamabad Blogger's Meetup - A Critique

2008-12-30T15:20:00.007+05:00

So finally I attended the first ever (at least at mass level) bloggers meet up in Islamabad. It was a good experience overall indeed on the part that I came to know and see actually physically some of the bloggers whom I have been interacting online. I don’t want to praise or sequentialize the event because I know everybody is going to write like that about it and some of them have even done a live blogging thingy on the whole meet up here here and here. What I intend to write here is a critical review of the whole episode.

I felt while sitting inside the auditorium, observing the attendees, that they were getting bored of the details about what is a blog, how to blog and how to earn from your blog and bla bla bla. Many of the attendees were bloggers and for Heaven’s sake, it was supposed to be a BLOGGERS meet up. It was not a blogger.com promotion meet up. It was supposed to be an interactive program where everybody could raise his/her own voice. Yes there was no restriction on questions but the very mood of discussions was not allowing bloggers like me to discuss on the issues which are really important to them. So the most addressed part of the gathering were those who were not bloggers but those who had come just to see what’s going on in at the venue or may be to those who had just come to savor the free servings by Google Pakistan. I believe next time more time is to be given to bloggers than to bloggers-to-be.

The interaction among the bloggers individually was almost negligible. One reason was the seating arrangement. I know (by watching photos) in Karachi Bloggers Meet up and Lahore Bloggers Meet up, there were separate tables where segregated groups had come in to being and one table had five to six people to sit face to face to each other and talk more fervently than this setup. Here the function was held in Bahria University’s Auditorium and the seats were in rows and one person could communicate with two people only sitting her/his right and left. So that was the biggest hindrance. Then there is a difference between people’s behavior too. Karachi and Lahore people are more interactive naturally than Islamabad or Rawalpindi guys. We are either too shy to talk about the things or we have too much of “atti” in us, both of them are actually good-for-nothing. Even during the tea I did not see anyone meeting somebody for the first time. Everybody was busy sipping the tea or talking with people with whom they came with or they already knew.

The concept of the whole program seemed too old. It followed the same pattern as Lahore and Karachi’s. I guess everyone is Pakistan’s Blogosphere had already read and watched those episodes. I didn’t find much new or which I could say that I did not know already.

As I have pointed out a few flaws in the whole thing, so I must conclude with some suggestive statements as well. I believe the things which I pointed out can be improved upon. I mean if you name something as “bloggers meet up” then just let it be for bloggers. For people who are not blogging and have come to attend – well if you want them to develop any interest in blogging then they will do so only by seeing other bloggers not by pushing them for making a blog. Then there are hundreds of articles which are there on internet for tips on starting a blog. Then the seating arrangements can be improved upon easily. About the innovation in the structure – well to give an impetus, I loved the last 30 minutes of the whole meet up the most. Because there was an issue to really talk about (those who have attended must know what I am talking about). So we can decide two or three topics for a period of three hours.

The participation from the girls or women, if I may say, was almost seen nowhere. They have turned up in very little numbers and then they did not participate at all except one girl who spoke a little. So for all the female Paki bloggers out there. Please do come to such meet ups. It is a very mature forum where there is no gender discrimination and the people who come there are decent or necessarily enough behave decently :)

But that doesn’t mean that I negate all the efforts of Badar and Uzee and others. They have really done something which was needed by bloggers in the north. It was definitely a great effort. At least they have made them to come to a common place other than internet and I really wasn’t expecting that much of people showing up. Lastly the administration was very good. Everything was prearranged and available in abundance, from Wi-Fi to stuff as simple as tea ;) For the little issues discussed above I guess we can give some leverage of being the first timer in Islamabad.

Those who have not been there please go to this link to get some visual glimpses of the meet up (Courtesy : Abdul Wahid):

http://www.awahid.net/2008/12/islamabad-bloggers-meetup-slide-show

I hope the critique and suggestion would be taken positively for the sake of improvement. I rest my case.

A Tag - Once More

2008-12-27T03:56:00.002+05:00

Tagged by Ritu and Tikuli and here it goes:

1. The age you will be on your next birthday : 29

2. A place I would like to visit : Paris

3. My favorite place : Bathroom... hehehe

4. Favorite food : Anything Chutpatti

5. Favorite drink : Jaam-e-Ulfat
Couldn't find any image. Its actually plain boiled water but it was used to be served at Hotspot, Islamabad... lol

6. Favorite pet : Finches

7. Favorite colour combination : Blue, Purple, Gray

8. Favorite piece of clothing : Scarf

9. All time favorite song : Tonight by Tina Turner & David Bowie

Watch here

10. Favorite TV Show : Friends

11. Town in which I live : Rawalpindi

12. Screen name : Muddleheaded

13. First job - Teacher

14. My dream job : Farmer

15. Bad habit : Stubbornness

16. My worst fear : Death of my loved ones

17. The one thing you’d like to do before you die: Charity

18. The first thing you will buy if you get $1,000,000 – A Farm House

2 aur "Dau" "Char"

2008-12-25T19:57:00.000+05:00

Mampi has tagged me. I wanted to do it later because I have been posting that short story, but then I thought lets take a commercial break the way they have it in between the little chunks of TV soaps. So here I am with 2 aur Dau Char.

4 Places I Go to Over and Over Again

1. My Office (have to in fact)

2. Jogging Track (I wish I could include Gym too but I’m too much of a lazy ass)

3. Internet (inevitable)

4. Bookshops (addicted simply)

4 People Who Mail Me Regularly

1. Fahad

2. Rehan

3. Ammar

4. Fraz

4 of My Favorite Places to Eat (Apart from Home)

1. Qilaa, Karachi (damn expensive but it's worth to pay)

2. Cukoo’s Den, Lahore (the khanna is good too but the environment is awesome)

3. Bala Tikkay wala, Rawalpindi (a very traditional Bar-B Que restaurant but there is no one else in Pakistan who makes such superb Tikkas)

4. Pizza Hut (Anywhere, anytime)

4 Places I’d Rather be Now

1. Sitting in bed inside a wooden hut in the midst of Neelum valley.

2. In Brunei with my sis and nieces and having all night going chats.

3. On a ship drifting in the deep sea.

4. Paris, my dream.

4 Favorite TV Shows

1. Friends (Star World)

2. Hum Sub Umeed Se hein (Geo News)

3. Tom & Jerry (Cartoon Networks)

4. American Idols (Star World)

4 Movies I Could Watch Again and Again

1. The Hours

2. Armageddon

3. Black (Rani Mukharjee’s)

4. Jia (Angelina Jolie)

4 people I would like to tag:

1. Tikuli

2. Seher

3. Snow

Sakina - The Maid (III)

2008-12-23T22:52:00.002+05:00

Earlier, Part-I, Part-II

Samuel had some money saved, so his ego urged him to thank his friend for all the hospitality and move to some place of his own. But Iqbal refused to let him so. He suggested that Samuel should get a job first and then he may move on.

“Kion jana chahta hay tu? Kya yahan koi takleef hay? Idher he ruka reh. Mein apnay boss say baat keron ga aj. Shayed woh factory mein tujhay kaam day day.” Iqbal offered.

So it was decided and next day he had been given work of packing goods at the same factory where Iqbal was working. He felt really indebted to his friend and didn’t want him to disturb his personal life any more, so he silently got a home on rent and bade farewell to his well wisher. For Sakina it was a shock to reach at her house. It was more or less similar to Iqbal’s. She tried to express her disappointment but then realized that it’s not a time for it. It made her a little depressed too for the first time. Nevertheless, she was as hopeful for a better tomorrow as much as the dreams she saw with open eyes. She started to improve skillfully the condition of their house. Each day, after coming back from work, Samuel would be amazed by looking at the house. He admired her. But for him there were difficulties at work.

All his life he had done nothing but work in a stable. He knew nothing about the packing and he had to learn a lot. The quality assurance team at the factory was quite keen about the sophistication with which the goods were packed. They did not want any fault in a single folding even. However, he had been pointed out four times in the very first week. Iqbal had tried to make him understand the work and the demands of the company owners too. But he was not a good learner. The reasons were his over self confidence and arrogance. He did not like the other workers to tell him how to do it. He didn’t even like Iqbal lecturing him.

“Yar Malik ke ghar ko tu aik maheena pehley chor aya hay. Ab kon sa ghora kis nasal ka hay, kya khata hay, kitna bhaag sakta hay aur kitney mein bikay ga..... yeh sab kuch bhool ja. Agar tujhay koi baat batata hay toh suna ker aur usay khanay ko na dora ker. Her koi tujh se tang hay factory pe. Yeh dada geeri chor day ab....... ” Iqbal criticized him severely one day.

“Tujhay bohat kaam ata hay kya? Mujhay lecture mat dia ker tujhay keh dia hay mein ne. Mujhay pata hay mujhay kya kerna hay aur kya nehein” He booed him and stormed out of the room.

When he entered home, Sakina offered him water and asked, “Khana la don?”

He didn’t reply and went to lie down on the charpoy in the room. She followed him.

“Samuel, kya baat hay? Kya tujhay koi peraishani hay?” She inquired softly.

“Apni bakwas band ker aur kaam ker ja ke.....” He yelled at her and went inside the room.

She stood stunned there for a few minutes for it was the first time he talked to her like that and it came too abrupt. It came completely out of nowhere.

The next day he was refused to be given any more work at factory. Another customer had complained about the packing and it was traced to him again. Then again on Iqbal’s request, the supervisor placed him in to the loading section of the factory. It did not include any skill to learn but again there was an impediment here. Loading the goods needed strength and Samuel lacked in that. All the rest of the workers were good in physical health and he was facing difficulties in that but for the sake of running his home he continued it. Then the payment he would get was even lower than earlier. He would come home completely drained out but he had a treasure waiting at home in the form of his wife. She was very much of a consoling figure and his frustration would wash away once he would be in bed with Sakina.

Months passed by and finally it was time for which both of them were waiting for. Sakina gave birth to a tiny but cute baby girl. She named her Josephine after a character of one of her favorite TV soap. She got a doll in the form of Josephine to play with all day long. She came as a blessing to her lonely life at home. Samuel kept on working hard and it's been seven months now that he had been laboring like a mule. The work load had made his nerves to stressful. When he would come home, he would talk little to Sakina and she didn’t notice his behavior as she was busy in pampering Josephine all the time. So, all day long stress would exert itself out at night. Their love life had become more of a mechanical thing than actually an activity full of sentiments. Ironically, the fruitless attempt at night brought Sakina another pregnancy right after the second month of the birth of Josephine. She broke the news to him, somewhat with joy, but he was totally unfeeling.

“Samuel mein ne aj Azra khala ko bula bheja tha” She started.

(Azra khala was the same woman who carried out the birth of Josephine)

“Acha toh?” He inquired taking the glass of water from her.

“Woh... woh... khala keh rahee thein ke tumharay phir se paon bhari hay” She finally let it out.

“Oh acha.......”

That was his response – not condemning at least but so joyless. They slept that night thinking different things.

Two more months had passed. This time the baby wasn’t easy for Sakina, may be one reason was immediate pregnancy after the birth. Her health began to worsen day by day. Before the completion of the third month, they had to bear another calamity. The factory caught a fire and faced major loss. The board of directors decided to cut down the labor and Samuel being a weakling at work was sent to home.

Continue Reading........

Sakina - The Maid (II)

2008-12-22T17:04:00.003+05:00

If you want to take the full taste of the story, please read the first part of this short story first.

Samuel was looking after the horses of the Malik. He was a skinny, short heighted and bearded boy of age a little less than twenty. She never noticed him earlier but his continuous staring said too much. In the beginning she ignored him totally but he seemed tireless. Whenever she caught him looking at her, he would lower his eyes and pretend to be busy in working on something. She would turn away and smile. She didn’t want her to be that easy target.

One day she got free from the work late in the evening. The dark was falling and while she was walking back to her house across the fields she felt scared. She wrapped around her the large shawl she always carried and noticed that not a single soul was out and the shadows of the trees and bushes were looming here and there. Suddenly the jackals, which were plenty in her village, began to howl ferociously. Their calling spurred the dogs nearby to reciprocate. Out of nowhere, she saw a dog running towards her. She hurried her steps and ultimately had to run. The dog was quick too. She was looking back at the woofing dog and running ahead too, when suddenly she saw the dog halting at its steps. Surprised – she looked ahead and saw a man on a horse coming in front of her. She didn’t recognize him until he got closer.

"Sakina?..... What are you doing here?" He inquired.

Then she realized that it was Samuel.

"I... I... I was going home and this dog........." she couldn’t complete her sentence and began to sob.

"Come on, get over the horse." He commanded her.

She was reluctant as she had never been on a horse before. He helped her in getting on. When she was safe and the feelings of fear began to fade away she felt the sensation which she must have felt when he was holding her and helping her getting on the horse. He escorted her to her home and all through the way she kept looking at him out of the corner of her shawl. At her door step, Samuel saw all of that which he wanted to see in the eyes and on the face of Sakina and Sakina, without saying anything and just blushing, went inside to her mother.

The next day was a new day for her. She formally resigned to Samuel’s advances. They began to spend time whenever they had any. He knew many hidden places in the village and together they found even more where they would sit for hours after the work. It became so frequent and they had become so intimated that a few days before her sixteenth birthday, she discovered that she had been pregnant. The revelation made her faint and she immediately conferred it to Samuel. He was very happy and that made her satisfied too, if not happy. They made plans to work something out.

“Chal mein maan se baat keron ga....abhee itna waqt nehein hooa hay” Samuel hoped.

“Per agar us ne naa ker dee toh?” She made a point.

“Nehein keray gee wo... meray siwa us ka hay he kon Sakina? Aur tu bhee apni ammaan se baat ker aj he”

“Mein? Per mein kaisay.. mujh se nehein ho ga” She refused.

But somehow he managed to make her agree upon the matter. But it wasn’t so simple. Her mother almost died when she told her the whole story and refused to be a part in the sin.

“Aray mooi tera satianaas ho... isi liye mein ne tujhay Kabhee akela nehein chora... bemaar thi per phir bhee tera saya bani rahee per ab kya kerti mein Maula ne meri aik na suni” Her mother scorned her mournfully.

“Maan... ” Sakina tried to explain.

“Aray chup ker ja... agar aik awaz bhee apnay kalay mun se nikali toh zubaan kheench lon gee teri mein... ” She warned her.

Same was the story at Samuel’s end. So finally they decided to run away to nearby city. The thought of a new life with her husband-to-be-lover and that too in a big city made Sakina even forgetful of her seriously ill mother. She packed her meager belongings and left the village with Samuel.

Samuel had a friend, Iqbal living in the city and he had already made an emergency call to him for help before getting on the train. So the immediate issue was settled and they were free to dream while on their way. Samuel was no matter a man of small built but had an attitude of a hulk. He had been working for the Malik since he was eleven. The Malik was very fond of his horses and Samuel over the years had learned the skills needed for a better look after and breeding of the horses. Hence, he was the blue eyed boy of his master. This had given him an excessive pride among the rest of the male servants. His direct access to the Malik gave him a stature of a leader among them. In fact Sakina fantasized for exactly such kind of man who can ascertain his authority over her. She liked to be commanded over. The thought of such a man beside her and the imagination of a future with the same overjoyed her. She was out of her village for the first time and he was telling her all the details about the places passing by, he actually knew about some of them and others he just made up in his mind to impress her. She kept on clinging to his arm and kept on admiring his knowledge while the train drove them towards the city.

The journey from platform to Iqbal’s house was even more thrilling for her. She kept on comparing the big roads and huge buildings alongside, with the only mud-spattered road which lead to their village. However, the house of Iqbal was of a little disappointment to her. It was in a low lying area of the city. The streets were narrow and house itself was more of an ancient two-room ruin in the midst of so many other similar looking houses. But she consoled herself that at least it was not her house. The men slept in one room and resigned the other to her and wife of Iqbal.

The very next morning they went to church and got married. She wore the wedding dress which Malik’s daughter had given her after she had worn it on her Mehndi. It was the happiest day of Sakina’s life. Both the couples went for sailing in the river in the evening and dined out. Later in the night, the newly weds talked about their unborn baby and planned their rest of life revolving around it.

“Samuel mein ne toh naam bhee soch lia hay” She muttered, snuggled in his arms.

“Kya bhala, bata toh sahee”

“Abhee nehein” She smiled. “Per ho ga bohat “modrun” naam us ka jo bhee ho ga... haan”

He giggled and kissed her on her glowing cheek. They slept the closest and saw the sweetest of the dreams together that night.

Continued.....

Sakina - The Maid (I)

2008-12-18T10:27:00.009+05:00

(This is my first attempt on anything in real ficiton. I will post it in chunks just to make it easy enough to slip through your throats. I hope you will like it. Please give me a critical feedback for my own learning. I would be grateful.)

She was rubbing the saucer uselessly in her hands for the last ten minutes. She would have continued that had she not heard the mistress’s shrill voice. She looked up and saw Begum Sahiba standing there with one of the most horrifying of her looks.

“Aray kya thaali ko ghisa ker choray gee? Kabhee pehli awaz mein bhee sun lia ker.”

Begum Sahiba was totally out of her mind.

“Go and get some tea for Chotay sahib and his friends”, she ordered.

“Jee acha”, she replied under her lip, washed her hands and turned the electric kettle on with some water in it. She knew that Chotay Sahib doesn’t like the normal mixed tea. She let the water to boil and returned to the saucer she was washing. It wasn’t for the saucer actually. She was a time machine. Whenever she is working somewhere, she would go down her memory line to escape from the reality of the present. Usually it was quite a pleasant experience, as she would select only those of the moments which she considered the best of her life. But today it was quite different. She was unable to harness her thoughts despite continuously trying. But she was still enjoying it. It seemed like a challenge to her and yet the sadness which was overcoming her was equally delightful.

She had very fond memories of her mother. She could still hear the echo of her mother’s voice calling her.

“Sakina baita mujay aata la day, tandoor tap gya hay.”

She left her only friend promising to get back as soon as possible and brought her mother flour which she had already kneaded for making bread. She was only three then but she used to help her mother in anyway she could. She used to do the little errands her mother would ask her like, bring her things she needed, help her cleaning the house, plucking the mustard twigs from the farms. She would even see to it that the wooden fuel in the stove keeps on burning. She never knew that this was going to support her for the rest of her life. She was the only beloved child of her mother. Yes mother only, because her father had died when she was still being nurtured in her mother’s womb. So for her it was her mother who was the whole world to her but still there was a deep longing for a man’s nearness in her heart. She would see with awe the children of neighborhood, being carried in arms, caressed and kissed by their fathers and sometimes even when their fathers would beat them.

Even now when she is a mother of six children, she was still in the awe of men. The thoughts reminded her of the water boiling in the kettle for Chotay Sahib, the only man in this house where she was working. She made tea and headed to the lawn where the guests must have been sitting. When she reached there, she approached from the back of her mistress’s proclaimed Chotay Sahib. However, she never called him Chotay Sahib.

“Farhad Bhai! Tea is ready.”

“How are you Halle Berry?” he posed.

She remembered, when she was new to this house and he was in his teens, he called her one day and showed her the cover page of the Vogue magazine and told her that she was even prettier than this American top actress. Regardless of her complexion, she was indeed very beautiful, rather the darkness in her skin has added to the mystery in her. While going back to kitchen she imagined her present self and a sigh expelled out of her deepest inner crevasses bringing more out of the Pandora box of the memories.

At the age of twelve, her mother refused to let her out of the house without her own supervision. The reason was her splendid youth. The only time when she would see the outer world would be the time when she would go with her mother to their village’s Malik (the godfather of the villagers) to help her in the house work and after that she had to be inside the house. On Sundays she would go to church with her mother. Her mother would be everywhere with her, wherever she would go. She would feel strangled with nothing much to do at home and her thoughts would torment her. From the very childhood, she had big dreams. Dreams of a big house, which must be equipped with every technological facility like TV, all those CD players and music systems that she had seen in Malik’s house, and servants (like her mother and herself) working around for her. Later in her early teens, she began to think for her a lover and a husband too, a longing like every other girl.

Not all and not in their true essence but her dreams started to come true. Her mother was old now and her health was continuously deteriorating. She would go less and less to the Malik’s house. She would send Sakina on work to keep the house running. In this way Sakina was getting more and more freedom. She realized very soon that her dreams are not going to come true. So she began to take the Malik’s house as her own. The wife of the Malik was kind enough to let her access to the luxuries of the house. She would let Sakina to relish on the Cable TV, movies and all the stuff available when she used to be free. This gave her imaginative mind even broader horizons. The last of her fantasies came true when one day she saw a male servant of the house gazing at her.

Continue reading...

My First Award

2008-12-15T11:33:00.002+05:00

My first award, "The Proximity Award", but very aptly given to me (it sounds like a little bit of self-praising I guess but its true) by Monkia. My wishes and actions have really paid off. I always wanted myself and my blog to be free and without the confinements of boundaries and I guess I have proved it in many ways. My traffic comes more from across the borders than in Pakistan. Even on my facebook's BlogNetworks I have more than half readers from India and the rest too is mixup of Pakistan and other coutnries.

This award is given to a blog that invests and believes in PROXIMITY - nearness in space, time and relationships! These blogs are exceedingly charming. These kind bloggers aim to find and be friends. They are not interested in prizes or self-aggrandizement. Our hope is that when the ribbons of these prizes are cut, even more friendships are propagated. Please give more attention to these writers! Deliver this award to eight bloggers who must choose eight more and include this cleverly-written text into the body of their award.

So I give this award to:

Ritu for bringing out the social issues which are universal to human kind, peeping in to things clearly and not just remained aloof of the staus quo but being outspoken against it specially here.
Tikuli for always being happy and smiling (on facebook :) ) and always good in making communications and ready to make others smile too.
Seher for bringing about the positivity for everone in the whole world, for creating an aura in which any one can feel soothing her/his own self.
Snow, who while sitting abroad (even not in India) was trying to communicate and abrdige the boudaries between people around the globe.
Parivesh whose posts gave an insight in to a typical Indian guy, but yet the tit-bits of thoughts were quite an insight experience for those from the rest of the world.

and ofcourse to
Monika for giving place on her blog for so many causes and for bieng friends and acknowledging little efforts for people like me.

Desolation

2008-12-12T13:59:00.001+05:00

I wrote this poem quite a while ago. I know its nothing but my personal ranting but since I couldn't write for so many days, so I thought to upload at least something for you guys. Hope you will like it. All worst comments are welcome :p

My eyes are brimming with tears
I sink in despair sitting here

I can see snow flakes falling around
Melting as they reach the ground

I am thinking about what you did with me
I confided in you and you lied to me
I gave myself to you and you disowned me

Whenever you called my name I was there
But you always hurt me with your cold stare

You always tried to get me wrong
O God! I thought my love was strong

But I know now,we never really made it
I couldn't bear more my peace being voilated
So I left you to make my life desolated

We Condemn War

2008-12-02T15:16:00.006+05:00

We have seen a number of times how the wills and wishes of a few in societies can incite ordinary people. But once again we have fallen prey to them. We are unable to identify those who want to direct innocent people for their own political and strategic motives. Do we yet need to reach that maturity level where we can see through the infernal designs? Where we can hear the voice from with in? Where we can give precedence to our own and our nation’s good? Where we can banish the malice thoughts and ideology?

I have been watching both Pakistani and Indian media a lot and I was wondering who is behind all the fuss that media is creating. I noticed that there is a fraction of society which is behind everything. I heard “Bharat Varma” from “Indian Defence Journal” on “Mere Mutabiq”, a talk show on Geo News. He spoke unabashedly about the current situation between both countries and went to the extent of saying that Pakistan needs India’s support to neutralize its internal security. What did he mean by that? It is quite understandable to even a person who is not much indulged in to political intricacies. Then there is ARY One world, which is telecasting a video footage of snippets of interviews of people of Pakistan, willing and vowing to go to war. Of course it comprised of the selected interviews. People of both the countries do not want conflicts. They want peace. They want prosperity. More recently, Star News showed a video which showed “Rehman Chacha” gunning and aiming and making plans to terrorize people at large. It looked more like a Bollywood thriller than any real terrorist unveiling footage. To me it was even funny. Star News has mocked itself very badly with the accompanied lights and the sound affects.

I am not here for advocating one and abusing the other government but for the clarity of the clouded and muddled minds of people, I want to ask a few questions:

How can the security of such a reputed hotel like Taj Mahal be surpassed so that the terrorists can gather around so much of the explosive material that lasted for three god damned days?

Indian security agencies and government have confessed that there were no intelligence reports regarding this terrorist activity. That means that they are not professionally very good in their field as there was an attack. Then how come they investigated so quickly and then declared after very few hours of the incident that sources of attacks were from Pakistan?

The Pakistani group who they blame for the attacks is more or less like Al-Qaeda. They are highly trained and banned in Pakistan. Even American CIA along with world’s most renowned intelligence agencies is unable to track Osama. Then how come Indian intelligence agencies become so quick to announce the roots of terrorists?

Let’s suppose that the terrorists succeeded in dumping that much of ammunition inside the hotel rooms. This means that they were quite smart chaps. So, were they so dumb on the other side that they left the wrappers of sweets in their pockets, which carry the name of Pakistani sweet manufacturer? And made phone calls from their cells to someone in Pakistan?

First the terrorists pronounced that they were from Deccan and then when they saw that it’s not helping Indian government to spit poison against Pakistan, they made a call again to media, rephrased and said that they forgot to tell last time that they were actually from Pakistan?

India suffered a major terrorism act which cost it lots of innocent lives and an environment of terror has developed among people. Indian Congress has lost more popularity. Pakistan has suffered too, diplomatically in the eyes of world. Then who is the benefiter of this whole bloody episode? Indian general elections are on the hand. Doesn’t it echo like BJP?

Lastly, Pakistan has already been suffering from so many of internal problems vis-à-vis a strangling economy, a feeble newly hatched government, so many little-made-huge crisis like shortage of wheat, sugar, and electricity. Above all it has been at war with internal terrorist entities for more than one and half year now. How can a country like that dare to venture a new hostile front?

To put it in simple words; the possibilities of involvement of some Pakistani terrorists can not be negated at all but there can be no involvement of Government of Pakistan or its any of intelligence agencies, so to say.

Pakistan

can simply not afford it. Since an incident has happened and Indian government has failed yet to find any clue to the actual roots of the terrorist activity in Mumbai, she thought it easy and better to blame Pakistan for everything (no matter the facts negate the hypothesis). The idea of alerting its armed forces was to play the pressure tactics on Pakistan as well as to divert the attention of the people of India from the graver condition of security in the country. But still it’s the people who should decide where the course of upcoming history should be taken to? And people do not want war. They want peace for they know that 24% and 24.3% (2007 est.) of population of Pakistan and India respectively, lies under the line of poverty, what to talk about the rest of issues like health, education, and unemployment? We need to work jointly on all our problems including terrorism.

God bless everyone, for He sees no boundaries. Amen.

Zeno (A Chunklet)

2008-11-29T08:38:00.012+05:00

(Its not a short story. Its only a collection of thoughts with a bit of ficiton. I often call it a chunklet.)

“And are you still in love with him?” Her husband asked angrily.

She thought of replying bluntly but refrained and let her silence fill in the answer. It might hurt him more and she never wanted it. In fact this was the reason which held her back for four years. It took some time but things happened quite smoothly after that, as her husband was quite an understanding person. She was thirty two then. Now with graying hair and kids of her kids playing in the lawn outside, she was sitting on a rocking chair and passing a retirement life. Since she had left her job she used to sit like that and ruminate over the past.

“Zeno Aapa”, her house maid called her and her thoughts jostled for a while.

“You asked for tea”, the maid said.

She left a cup of tea beside her and let Zeno dive in to the sea once again. Time literally flies by and in her case it flies away like a bird. She always correlated it with a bird as the bird flies away from where it nestled and leaves behind the nest. For her the nest is a bunch of memories which are to be abandoned, whether good or bad. Past is past. She was quite a practical woman. Even balancing between her love and marriage was much of a mechanical task. She fought with her own self to prove that she was a good wife and she did. But after four years of her marriage she broke out that day in front of her husband out of nowhere. It was not actually that much out of nowhere. She was never been infidel towards her husband and marriage but she had a secret life - a world where only her thoughts can penetrate. She was always secretly justifying herself for marrying an innocent man and not loving him and kept immersed in love with the man who was her lover but not her husband. Coming out was not easy. But what reinforced her was the fact that it’s better to hurt her husband now rather than hiding a truth for a life time. At least he deserved this for all his kindness and love towards her. It’s never too late.

Now a widower of her 2^nd husband (her lover) and a mother of a daughter and two sons, she was said to be the luckiest woman in the society. But she was rethinking and re-evaluating the decisions she made in her life. She had made some right choices but she had regrets in her life too. The regrets – not over the matters which happened to her but the way she carried them out. She thought she should have not succumbed to the idea of marrying her first husband in the first place. Later when she was married to him, she thought, she should have continued with that. It always pinched her that she had been mean towards him for running away like that. It actually was a proof that she had not been strong enough in implementing what she chose or even had to choose. Humans are mean in majority after all.

What I would Like to be Reborn as?

2008-11-26T08:38:00.008+05:00

“Tikuli” has tagged me ages ago I guess now. The tag was “What I would like to be reborn as?” I couldn’t get the time to write something about it and then later I just couldn’t think properly. So after much of deliberation and by an impetus given by my friend “X”, I am finally able to write something here.

I have done a lot of facebook apps, which tell you what animal are you and bla bla bla. They told me that I should be a dog or a monkey - stupid enough. I have always fantasized being invisible - don’t want the world to see me. So I guess, if I were given chance I would like to be born as a “Chameleon” or may be an “Octopus”. I know the negative phrases associated with it but I don’t really believe much in old things. Then there are a lot of perspectives to see anything.

Why I fascinate being a Chameleon? Many reasons to it:

1.    I like change - change in my looks, my clothes and appearance. That doesn’t necessarily include change in my inner-self. A Chameleon changes its skin color but from inside it remains the same.

2.    I love to blend in to the group or the society I am in at that time. You would find me comfortable among diverse groups categorized by age, social status, ethnic or educational background. A Chameleon does the same. It adopts itself to the surroundings.

3.    Colors fascinate me too much. I don’t have a single favorite color. I love all the colors equally and blended together. I’m an amateur painter, so I love to play with them. Same does the Chameleon. It has Chromatophores under its transparent skin which gives it the most exotic of colors like red, yellow, green, blue, pink, brown, and even white.

4. Then I like tree life. I remember when I was a kid I used to sit for hours up high among the branches of tall trees with my cousin “G”. Chameleon is much of an arboreal animal.

5. One thing that I don’t have but Chameleons have is their eyes. They have a vision of 360 degrees, means they can see all around them without moving their head. But I guess if I had such ability I would be even lazier... hehehe

6. Lastly, the most obvious reason for me to choose Chameleons is because I love reptiles. It would be any other of them if it were not Chameleon.

There are certain other features of Chameleons which can come handy IF you have them, like a long protrudable tongue, claws, and the fact that all the coolest people love to pet Chameleons. So any way, you tell me, have I justified myself appropriately?... lolz

In the end I tag,

Snow

Alagappan

(Photos by the courtesy of http://www.screameleons.com)

Mughal Nama - More on Mughals

2008-11-23T22:19:00.002+05:00

This post is to be read in conjunction with the first episode "Mughal Nama"

The ostentatious behavior of Mughals was yet another cancer which had eaten up most of the wealth of the sub-continent. They used their every capacity to squeeze whatever they could from the poor masses of the region. The whole Mughal generation was obsessive of silver, gold, diamonds and other precious stones. The famous Peacock Throne was one of such examples. Its value was more than 60 million rupees at that time. The infamous emperor Rangeela reportedly had ordered that jewels of all types to be scattered on the floor of his palace because he liked to walk over them. The treasuries used to be loaded with wealth in form of diamonds, rubies, emeralds, and many other precious stones and of jewelry and decorative art pieces made of gold and silver. In 1739 Nadir Shah took away a wealth of 600 million worth rupees plus the Kohinoor Diamond and the Peacock Throne. The utensils used in the palace were of gold and silver too. Then they had a strong drive for constructing expensive monuments and buildings of massive structures. In Agra, the Taj Mahal was constructed by deploying more than 20,000 workmen of different expertise for about twenty two years. Their wages alone would exceed ten billion rupees if calculated on present standards. It even does not include the material used in that. Same figures stand true for Delhi Mosque and the Badshahi Mosque in Lahore. Such were the limitless merriments of our great emperors on behalf of bread and butter of ordinary people of the sub-continent.

The last but not the least is the moral values and religiosity. Almost all of them were morally corrupt themselves and far from religion, although they claim to be the greatest admirers of Islam. All of them were avid drinkers of liquor but Humayun and Jahangir drank so excessively that it cost them their lives. Their keeping of harems of so many women needs no elaborations. If they claimed to be Muslims rulers then Islam does not allow such extrusions. Akbar went to the extent to make a hodge-podge of all the religions. Historians claim that he created religious harmony. In my opinion, by removing boundaries between the religions, he had played with them. He tried to dismantle the originality and identity of the major religions of that time namely; Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism, and Jainism. Religious harmony means to live peacefully yet not interfering in to each other’s religious practices.

I tried to highlight few of the major misconceptions which are very much there but we unintentionally refuse to perceive them. It needs a lot more discussion to clear the fog but before concluding all the discussion here, one must question once again; what are the welfare steps that had been taken during the reign of Mughals? What were the policies which emancipated the ordinary people of the sub-continent? What change was brought down in the economic, social, and moral system already established (I leave culture aside)? The living of an ordinary farmer was even more scrutinized in terms of grabbing inordinate taxes and hence his life was even more miserable. The “justice” was available to few and that too prejudiced by the emperor’s own will and wish and there were no rules laid down. There were no civic facilities available to public which we see flourishing in the western empires of the same time. The people remained aloof of the technological advances which the rest of the world was witnessing and taking part in. Instead they were alluded in to literature and art which actually was to satisfy the emperor’s pleasure and wishes. Even in art the region could not produce a Picasso or Da Vinci, to say so. The one somewhat significant aspect of their whole era, their structural monuments, which historians claim to be the golden heritage, in my opinion, is even the worst thing to claim to. What good use is a palace, a Serai (Inn), a garden, a castle or even a mosque of that magnificence to a person living in the street? It was all to provide comfort to the emperor and those very few who were near to him. The people remained as they were or even worse in many cases.

The whole Mughal dynasty followed the simplistic but mean approach in governance, which focused on procuring wealth from the grass root level to enliven the palace no matter it cost the precious lives of people. In my opinion Mughals did the same as the British, in some cases even worst. If British looted the sub-continent tremendously then they did some reforms too notably in infrastructure, technology and irrigation system. They brought the concept of democracy in the sub-continent. We are benefitting from these fruits even to this day too. Mughals excruciated people at large but left behind merely buildings built at the cost of people’s blood, sweat and tears. Those might be marvels for some but whenever I visit them I can’t exclaim Mughal sense of architecture, I feel the touch of calloused hands and smell the blood amid the massive walls.

Mughal Nama

2008-11-20T18:43:00.005+05:00

Much of the population of Indian subcontinent, i.e. present day Pakistan, India and Bangladesh, has generalized views about the things – things which they have been taught in books and told by elders. Few take the pain of analyzing the facts rationally and even fewer dare to shed the false concepts of history inculcated in their minds. “Mughals Era” as we perceive generally was the golden period of the history of the sub-continent. The facts are however contrary, in my opinion, if we look in to it objectively. What was the major achievement that they accomplished in the region apart from just reigning innocent people? Apart from building monuments, they did nothing withstanding. There are a few major points which ought to be discussed.

Mughal empires were not strong internally. This applies on almost every Mughal Emperor from Babur to Aurangzeb. Babur died just after four years of his succession to Indian throne and his son Humayun took charge of the empire but had to face opposition from his own brother Kamran. Ultimately, Humayun had to flee from his own empire and fifteen years later resurged and took to the throne once again. Unfortunately, he died after only six months leaving the yet not re-established empire in the hands of his young son Akbar. Although Akbar was a better administrator and a better human being as compared to the rest of the Mughals but he too had to face his son Jahangir’s defiance. Jahangir in turn was challenged by Khusrau, his eldest son. The next successor saw the most impertinent of the treatment by his son. Shah Jahan fell ill in his later years of life. His four sons namely Aurangzeb, Dara Shikoh, Shah Shuja, and Murad Baksh saw the succession of the throne nowhere after their father’s death. Hence, the time saw the brothers at war with each other. The successor was Aurangzeb and so he had to take revenge. He ordered to kill his two brothers and a nephew. To add to the brutality and infidelity he captured his own father Shah Jahan to imprison him until his death. The list went on. After the death of Aurangzeb, his son Moazzam Shah exterminated his two brothers and assumed the title of Bahadur Shah. His successor Jahandar Shah snuffed out all the princes of the time. His nephew, Farrukh Siyyar, in turn had slain him the following year. Siyyar was also killed later on. It continued even till the last dummy emperor, Bahadur Shah Zafar. So to speak, their internal integrity was too weak and continued through the centuries. How could they focus on welfare of their people when they were constantly threatened by insurgencies in their empires? They did not do anything to exterminate the reasons behind it.

The major profession in the sub-continent since thousands of years was cultivation and agriculture. But it remained; perhaps, the most misgoverned and uninfluenced area of concern. Almost fifty percent of the produce had to be snatched away from the cultivator. The one who collected tax was never an employee of the emperor but he was authorized to do so, provided he continuously added to the emperor’s treasury. This left the petty farmer, forming the majority of the population, living hand to mouth, whereas the Mughal families and the flanking one’s enjoyed every luxury available at that time.

Another serious issue which was overlooked was development in science and technology. When intellect of west was brimming with the innumerable discoveries and inventions, east was busy in settling old and creating new disputes and rivalries among themselves. The populace even at that crucial time had great potential in them. We saw the emergence of some great poets, writers and philosophers of that time. But they too were all there to entertain the great emperor of the time usually. It was not needed at that time. British over threw the last Mughal throne because they were far ahead in these fields of life.

Then talk about the emperor’s courts. The emperor had immense powers of deciding cases regarding mere thefts to such serious ones as relating to people’s lives. The presence in the court where the decisions were made was a prerogative of few. The justice was provided quickly but the intricacies of the matters were overlooked. Hence, it led justice to the extent of brutality. The appointments in the government were made by emperor himself, which of course left gaps for mistakes of appointing improper people at improper appointments.

Continue Reading...

One day Excursion Turned Out to be a Great Experience [Episode-III]

2008-11-14T11:12:00.010+05:00

This post is the sequel to...
"One day Excursion Turned Out to be a Great Experience [Episode-I]"
and
"One day Excursion Turned Out to be a Great Experience [Episode-II]"

It was Ramadan and we were fasting that day as well. So we thought of moving ahead and reaching “Kel” before the Maghrib Prayer. But our estimates about time went wrong. We had hired a jeep and now we were scared as we were completely new to this area and we had trusted a completely stranger as our driver. He could have taken us wherever he wanted to. We had heard stories of missing people in the mountains. The prevailing atmosphere added to such feelings. The route was totally deserted. We couldn’t see even a single human being all the way to Kel. The sun had already refused to shine anymore and the mountains; which were beautiful in the day time, were now looming ferociously on our right and left like dark huge monsters. The trees were even worst, looking like ghosts but the smaller ones with many arms. The river was again far from us, deep down in to the valley, as the road to Kel is constructed high on the mountains. Thanks to my imaginative mind - I even thought of chances of the jeep falling in to the abyss where the river was flowing. It seemed immensely dark and deep, just like the one in the ocean, which has no ending, no bottom. It was a sea of darkness. The sound effects were provided by the distant rushing river and occasional flapping of wings of some bird which falls from the perch where it’s resting. The daylight breathtaking scenes had turned in to horrible scenes in the dark. Amid all this, our jeep was moving ahead in the darkness with its headlights on and the sound of its revving engine piercing in to the silence.

Our endless journey at last ended in to the town of Kel. People were still out in the streets, so it was easy for us to find a hotel. You can find a few hotels here as it is relatively a bigger town. The room was all made up of wood. The walls, the floor, and the ceiling all were of Pine wood. Even the toilet was wooden. There was a sensuous aromatic smell of Pine all inside the hotel and inside the rooms. The town is essentially an oval shaped valley inside the bigger valley of Neelum. The sky among the surrounding mountains in the night looks like a giant orb which is illuminated further by millions of shinning silvery bulbs and almost seems like something artificially created. The night was getting colder and colder and we were chilling even under our heavy quilts in the room.

As we had to start the return journey early next day so we got up early in the morning so that we can have a good look around the town of Kel. After having a heavy breakfast we went out to see around. Everything was covered in white frost. It was around 8 o’ clock and the chilly wind of the night was still blowing. We were wearing ample clothes to get protected against it but it was just piercing inside so brutally. The heat of the sun rays was yet not so enough to make it warmer or even to make it tolerable. People of the town were coming out now sitting idly alongside the streets – talking and smoking or savoring oranges. Contrary to the people of Punjab plains, they didn’t have much to do during this time of the year. They had already sown and harvested maize (the only crop) and now they have no worries for the upcoming winters. May be that’s why their faces reflected contention despite the cruel early winter winds. We saw very few of them working – they too were doing nothing but spreading the maize to get dried. Yes few of them were collecting wood. It seems like they are very much dependent upon the wood. Farming is not much of a generative kind of profession because of very little area of land and that too is not suitable for cultivating grains. The wood from various perennial trees like Pine is all they have, all the year, and they are quite generous in using this natural resource. They use it to build their houses, their day-to-day use tools, their strangely looking granaries, bridges, water storage tanks and the most important use is to get energy in the form of heat to cook food and warm themselves.

Yet we had only seen one of the genders in the market places – men. We got a chance to see women when we marched to relatively suburbs of the town near the bank of the river. They were sensual and wildly beautiful with their fair complexion, sharp facial features and deep dark eyes. I couldn’t help imagining them cat-walking down the aisle on any of the international fashion show. They were no less than any of the supermodels I had ever seen. Alas! All of the women we saw were married and had many kids who were getting ready to go to school. As I was teasing around the kids who were getting shy to see strangers, my friend X gathered around me a few kids and took a memorable photograph which till this day I treasure as the best photograph of our trip.

Kel is relatively a large town comprising some 7000 of populace. The dialect of Kashmiri language which is spoken here is more or less like Pothohari, a dialect of Punjabi. The town has a hospital, a high school (intermediate college) each for boys and girls and a small market where you can easily buy ordinary day-to-day stuff along with the local handicrafts. The most beautiful stuff is the embroidered women clothes and men’s shawls and caps. The town has electricity and a non-digital telephone exchange by the courtesy of Pakistan Army. In fact most of the facilities available are by the advent of Army. Their presence is obvious. The place provides them a relatively better safe house than any other place in Neelum Valley. Then the route to Kargil also initiates from here via Hulmat and Nekroon although it can only be covered on mules.

The worst part of our excursion had to start now – turning back. We never wanted to go back as there were more to see, had we had any chance to move ahead. It is a very interesting feature of traveling in mountains that one never gets bored. The people, the culture, the landscape and even the natural life continues to diversify itself with change in elevation. It is something that one can never find traveling in plains. Kel is considered as the last town of the Neelum Valley, however in my opinion there is even more ahead but only for those who can dare to venture. If you want to travel even beyond Kel, for your information, there is no road or even any pavement ahead. You will have to go trekking on endless mountains, meadows, and passes which can be quite daring. To my own wonder, I later on came to know that human race has built houses even in those mountains. I can only fancy what it would be like living there. We started out this journey out of nowhere. We had planned for a one day excursion and we ended up spending five days lost in mountains. We didn’t have clothes other than those we were wearing. We didn’t have our shaving kits. We didn’t even carry the chargers for our cell phones. We didn’t even bring any camera with us (later on we had to borrow one from Athmuqam on payment). But still it turned out to be a life long remembrance. I have a firm belief that whenever we plan for something, something else always comes up and we re-prioritize our stuff in which such excursions are always in the end. Even this year we planned to go to Neelum Valley again, not for Kel but beyond – to the unseen land. Something had come up and now I am here just ruminating over the past. It makes my vagabond heart race faster and my mind deluding myself of lying in the small cabin made of Pine wood, but sadly I am lying in my bedroom in the heart of one of the bustling cities of Pakistan. But I promise my heart that I will take it once again to the land of the majestic mountains, the jutting out Pines, the singing fountains, and the beautiful people.

And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills
Where blossom many an incense-bearing tree;
And here were forests ancient as the hills,
Enfolding sunny spots of greenery

---Coleridge

Provocation

2008-11-10T11:00:00.002+05:00

Where are you now, I’m scathed and bleeding
Do I echo in your ears when pleading?

You have my heart brushed on that canvas
Does it incite the same old flame now?
Left lone! So what? I can still grow old
It seems hushed which was once veneer vow

You know how much of my blood you owe?
How many sleepless nights I spent in woe?

Did you not say we were like jigsaw?
Which you toyed and broke into pieces
Are you brave enough to place it again?
They make you so vain, those vain teases

What about those tears you cried you croc?
Knock me today if you ought to knock

‘Morrow I’d be scared but not bleeding
‘Morrow must change, must not be pleading

b-O : My Savior, Your Savior, Their Savior, Oh! Everybody’s Savior???

2008-11-07T08:19:00.006+05:00

I have been watching TV. I have been reading newspapers. I have been reading blogs and I have been listening to people and I’m sick of it all. Why everygod damnedone has to talk about b-O? I’m talking about the newly hatched president of the world… oops! Sorry I mean president of US of A. But doesn’t it seem like he has become one for the whole world? Not actually though. But the delusion, which has been gripping media and people generally since he delivered his first speech as president, has been at the height. In my opinion media has been the culprit. You see it provides outlet to people to speak out their minds. Now I don’t complain about too much of media freedom but it does create disdain for people like me sometimes. Since the day one, Geo TV had been displaying a marquee message board right on the screen. People could SMS their messages about the results of American election directly to that message board. Trust me, you got to read those messages. They were funny. I still remember one of those. It went like; “Obama duniya se ghurbat, mehngai aur jurayem khatam ker dein”. In English; “Obama please abate the poverty, dearness and crime from the world”. Now, somebody ask, “Why he has been bestowed upon that many responsibilities?” Hasn’t he had to look after the problems his own people; his own country is facing? And about the war on terrorism; well he will do everything which needs to be done – whether it’s about pinning down Iran, continuing attacks on Pakistan or screwing up his marines’ asses sending US marines in the deserts of Iraq and Afghanistan. In that part of the world, policies may discourse for a while but ultimately they lead to the same destination. So people chill out. Be your savior yourself.

I guess I have become one of them too as I am discussing it as well. So?… Well after all I am just a human being and as long as I live how can I be unique, different and changeable (I’m gonna run away with it :p).