Tryst with nature.

It's been a hat trick to watch sunrise from the roof of my home. Clouds, sun and birds with moon hovering in the opposite horizon make the morning rise a tryst with nature. I feel bringing the nature at my door step and without getting out of my home I enjoy the colorful show as a solo audience. What I like best is the turning of the color of sky from blue to orange in the east. Today it was hide and seek between sun and clouds and I was mesmerized by the glow of sun behind the clouds. I forgot where I was and found myself as part of a great celestial drama. Everyday nature offers spectacular scenes to watch, feel and be part of them but we miss them or fail to acknowledge their uniqueness. As it is said by a classical Urdu poet Mir Dard "Sarsary hum is jahan say guzray, Warna har ja jahan e digar tha". ( We passed this world cursorily, otherwise every place was a world in itself.)

38...so what!!!

Next month I will be 38 years old. When I look back at my last 10 years of life I find myself going through a lot of change. During these 10 years I have suffered set backs, endured difficult times, tasted defeats and passed through the phase of total abandonment by my so called close friends. The last decade has also given me some of the greatest happinesses of my life. I have become far more open, spontaneous, easygoing and carefree than what I was in 1997. I used to take everything very seriously and allow myself no margin of error. Hence I was very upright, fastidious and no-nonsense in dealing with people especially with students. I was respected but at the same time I was a lonely person. I used to wonder why any girl was not in my life. I was well educated, well placed, good looking yet I was a failure in the matter of love. I could talk for hours on current political issues, history, management, economics but couldn't engage a girl in a light conversation. One of my female colleague told me to read literature to understand the complexities of human relationships and particularly to understand female psychology because she felt I was too prudish. Literature didn't help me much to understand the female psychology what helped me most were women themselves. When I started listening to my female colleagues, to my cousins, to my girl students, I found that what women want is understanding of their emotions. All my credentials worth nothing when it comes to winning the heart of a woman because I knew only how to involve the brain and didn't know how to engage the heart. It was big eye opener for me. The transformation of my personality started and I became slowly more open and relaxed. Life became easy for me and I started enjoying my work more. The change in my personality didn't come quickly and easily and it took many years before I was able to get out of the confinement of a nice, perfect and infallible image that I had locked myself into. Then love of my life came. My poem roller coaster describes my sentiments.

Roller Coaster

"I am flawed, erratic and moody
yet you hold my hand all along
not knowing where I would lead you
sometimes we soar as if never to fall
when I become quiet, you wait for my call
my life is like a roller coaster
Love entered in my life when I stopped being perfect
and it was then you told me " I love to ride on a roller coaster.

I am not what I was in 1997 and I will be not what I am today in 2017. I have seen many of my dreams gone shattered and many new dreams come alive. I have met scores of beautiful, intelligent and remarkable women, read rich literature from Kundera to Murakami, travelled to remote and rugged places in Sindh, captured marvellous natural scenes in my camera, listened to intellectual giants and savored quality food during the last decade especially during last 5 years.

I feel young, 38 doesn't describe me. "Cheeni Kum."

A bud.

The touch of bud enlivens my heart. Spirited, gushing, untrammelled flow of admiration from every action has inundated my heart. "It's you, I swear", these words have made my day.

Khamushi.

Ae khamushi utar ja meray dil mein
sunna chahta hun dil kehta hai kiya
bohat hangamay hain dunya main aur main hun dhoondta
ik gosha jahan main or ho mera dil
phir karun ghanton batain apnay dil say
Ae khamushi utar ja meray dil mein

My Heaven.

Books, Paintings, Music and You.

Its time for decision making.

Now a days I have not too much to do. My classes in one of the institutes are over and at my home centre too students have completed their courses almost. So I have lots of time in hand particularly on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday. I have got rid of lots of clutter. I am also reading my unfinished books. At the same time I have purchased few new books in Sindhi despite self imposed ban on purchasing books. I couldn't resist the temptation of purchasing so cheap books on such interesting topics. I couldn't believe that for just Rs. 100 I got 4 books from Sindhi Language Authority book stall. The books are priceless, I have already got worth of my Rs. 100 when I read in one of the books about saints in Jainism, Hinduism and Buddhism.
In the evening I went to see our neighbour who came back from a visit to India. He is above 60 years of age and a fervent traveller. He went to see his relatives in Rajasthan. He went to Jaipur, Sikar and Bikaner and then further south to Hyderabad. He was all praise for the progress in India. He said that now there was no comparison between India and Pakistan. India is far ahead. The salaries are high there but the prices of goods are cheap. Muslims, Hindus and Sikhs live peacefully. While he was narrating his account of Indian trip I felt disappointment on what we have done with Pakistan. He urged me to visist India and see Delhi, Jaipur and Agra in the first trip and if there is a chance then I must go and see my ancestrol town of Mahedragarh as well.
Karachi is calling me again. I have prayed that I take the better decision. I want to read, travel, write and teach and that's all I am doing. But only teaching is giving me money. May be in Karachi I will be able to earn from my other passions as well. I don't want to leave the things that I love most. The time for decision making has arrived and I cannot escape it. I have to make the decision pretty soon.

In the memory of Dr. Ishqi

The city of Hyderabad once famous for literary and intellectual gatherings is now deprived of such events. When one of the learned Professor of English told me about the organization of a gathering in the memory of Dr. Ilyas Ishqi I decided to attend it. Last night I went to the function and found very few people attending it. There were hardly 50 participants in a city of more than 2 million. Dr. Ilyas Ishqi was no ordinary person. He was an intellectual giant. Born in Jaipur in 1922 he migrated to Pakistan in 1948. His professional association was with Radio Pakistan but his areas of expertise were literature, language and music. He was an expert on Urdu literature. The aspect that inspired me most was his command over many languages of Pakistan. He was fluent in Sindhi, Punjabi and Seraiki. He was one of the top most literary figure who was seen as the expert in Sindhi language especially on Shah Latif though his mother tongue was Urdu. Persian and Hindi were other languages in which he expressed himself in the form of poetry. He devoted his life to spread love among the dwellers of Pakistan especially Sindh. His first and last love was books. He passed away on 12 January 2007. I am lucky to know him as a close friend of my father. Dr. Ishqi came to our home many times to spend time with my father. Hyderabad has lost one of its greatest patron of knowledge. One of his verse is below with my attempt to translate it.

" Harf ki qeemat bay payan hai, harf kay hain imkaan bohat
harf ko zinda karna seekho phir chahay taqdeer likho"

" The price of word is infinite, the possibilities of words are countless"
learn how to make word alive, then write your own fate".

Love You Indus.

I was feeling jaded so I went to see you. O Indus, you are always there for me to rejuvinate my soul. Love you.

It is not over.

You are settled. I am settled. Let the game begin.

Keti Bandar.

On 3rd May 2007 the allure of the distant sea took me to the end of Pakistan in the south to the small port town of Keti Bandar. When I reached there I was convinced once again that fear of unknown lies in our mind not outside of it. I reached Gharo at 9 am where my Memon driver was waiting for me. Without wasting time we moved towards south on our way to Keti Bandar. Passing through the heart of Indus Delta we reached Keti Bandar around 12 noon. The first sight of the sea gave me the pleasure of finding a long lost friend. We entered the town and met Mr. Bukhari, a member of Fisher folk forum, who gave us remarkable hospitality beyond our expectation. The sea water all around us was actually the intrusion by the sea in the lands of Sindh. The intrusion is caused by the lack of flow of Indus river into the sea therefore sea water is gnawing the land each year. Where we saw the salty water of sea there once stood the crops of rice. I asked Mr. Bukhari to show us the roaring sea. He told us for that we had to travel on boats to enter the Arabian Sea. We embarked on a small boat called " Horo" in Sindhi. All the way we saw small islands on which the Debali community of fishermen lives. After travelling for half an hour we saw the high tides of Arabian Sea. We were about to enter into the open sea when I asked the boatman to return to Keti Bandar. After spending sometime there I left for Hyderabad and reached my home at 8 pm.

For more pictures visit my Fotoblog.

Banbhore.

The Mosque of Banbhore, Sindh.

Yesterday I went to Banbhore. When I sat foot out of my home I didn't know that I would reach Banbhore because I intended to go further south to the Arabian Sea coast of Keti Bandar. After contacting some people of the area I came to know that the route to Keti Bandar goes from Gharo, a small town on the road between Thatta and Karachi. By the time I reached Gharo it was already 2pm and when I asked the driver of the taxi how much time it would take to reach Keti Banadr he told me that it would take around 3 hours. So I decided it was too late to go to the place and asked the driver to show me the nearby places. The driver belonged to the Memon community of the town and I was surprised to know that he knew so much about the life in Indus delta and sea. Memons are usually businesspersons. He told me that he was married in the Mir Bahar community who are actually fisherman. Mir Bahar, the king of Sea, has given the name Admiral , the commander of the fleet of navy. We first went to Gharo creek where the fishermen were catching fish and then we went to Banbhore. Banbhore is a ruined city now but it is said that when first Arab conquerer of Sindh Muhammad Ibne Qasim came here it was the bustling port city and called Debal. I took some pictures of the ruined city with the Gharo creek in background. The famous poet of Sindh Shah Abdul Latif Bhittai has immortalized the love story of Sassui and Punnuh through his poetry. Sassui belonged to Banbhore. The first mosque in the Sub continent is said to be built in Banbhore around 712 AD at the time of Arab conquest of Sindh. I came back home with better and clearer understanding about visiting Keti Bandar that I will visit soon.

Wounded Alma Mater.

The massacre at Virginia Tech has blown the hallowed institution of university to smithereens. It is like bombing the mosque, temple, synagogue, or church. No, I am wrong the university is more sacred than the religious centers because here the learned and the learners together are in the pursuit of knowledge the only activity truly epitomizing the essence of being human.

The killer wounded his alma mater and killed her children who were not strangers but his own siblings. Who would now feel safe in the lap of alma mater? The students and teachers will doubt each other; the home of learning has been shattered. I feel the pain of the teachers of Virginia Tech who grope to find the answer to the biggest question of their life why did they fail to pacify the brewing anger of a young guy who had shown enough signs of alienation. Something somewhere must have altered the role of university, teachers and education so subtly that resulting absence of support system for any estranged student turned an ordinary student into the perpetrator of the deadliest massacre in US history.

I do not claim to know America and its culture and how it would feel to be a part of an American university so I am not in a position to comment upon the pressures an immigrant student might have felt that led him to commit mass murder of his own varsity fellows. However as a teacher I think the lacking may lie in not reaching out to the family of the student especially his parents at a time when first signs of diabolical thoughts were detected in his writings. Taking the family into confidence and tracing the causes of his problems might have given the university authorities better clues to know true state of the mind of the embittered student. I feel sorry for the VT faculty and staff who no doubt would have done more had they known what catastrophe a lone student would bring to their institution.

“Give respect to each other, help the weak students to grow, never make fun of any student, never ridicule anyone and always stretch your hand for mutual growth “, this is my message to all the students of the world.

Existentialism. (My 100th Post)

When I got the novel Plague by Albert Camus I had no idea who the author was and what kind of the novel Plague would turn out to be. Later I came to know that Camus was associated with existentialism though he himself preferred not be associated with any school of thought. Camus was once a close friend of Sartre who is regarded as the leading philosopher of existentialism of the 20th century. The meaning of existentialism in philosophy was not clear to me and after searching on net and reading from my introductory book on philosophy I found that existentialist philosophers believe that human beings although have no power to choose the environment of their birth but they do have the power to form their world through exercising the will power. I know that there must be more to the subject than what I have understood but the essence that I got from reading about it is liberating. One can make a difference for better in the presence of overwhelming problems and challenges through resoluteness and will. Plague is such a story where the indomitable spirit of the human beings fought a battle against the plague. Plague struck the people out of the blue and altered their destiny but failed to subdue the will of the people to defeat the dreaded disease. Eventually the people of the town saw the retreat of the plague and began living their ordinary lives again.

My mood is ethereal

The night has fallen and the humming of the fan enhances the silence all around. I am sitting in my study room with a new book around. "...And Another Woman Shall Bear Me" is the collection of articles by Khadijah Gauhar an Afro-Asian writer. I have already finished a couple of articles and surprisingly the first article was finished even before I reached home after purchasing the book. My bike was standing idle for almost a month and I decided to take a ride on it. I went straight to the bookshop to get the book and on my return trip I found my self stuck in a traffic jam. The blockade was so massive that I switched off my bike and opened the first pages of the book to read. I created an island of serenity in the midst of mayhem and started reading the book. As I engrossed myself in the thoughts and ideas of the author I forgot that I was stranded in the traffic jam and the feeling of being in control gave me satisfaction at a time when most of the people seemed frustrated. I read about the author's apathy towards restrictive form of education she got in a school of a Muslim neighborhood of Cape Town in 1930s. As I finished the first article with these words " I believed that the general aim of sound education is to help individuals to grow to fuller maturity; to help them to live well with his or her own world or society", I looked around and found no improvement in the traffic jam. I waited for few more minutes and then turned the bike back to reach home via long route. I am reading the other articles now but I will never forget the start of the book as it was made in very unusal environment for reading. My mood is ethereal.

Curse of a woman

Leave me forever if you so desire but you will long for love and it will never embrace you. Every step forward and every passing moment will lead you to a life where each day ends in the lap of loneliness, ennui will rule your life and tall buildings surrounding your abode will obstruct fresh air and sunshine to enter, the loosening of the tie will not ease your breathing and you will feel your body turning into a concrete. You will watch thousand faces popping out from the dead walls of your forlorn room mocking your highbrow living and you will die all alone in the midst of dark night faraway in time as well in distance from the one who is urging you right now not to leave.

Magic moment

Distnictively tall, having long black hair, big eyes and buxom body with confident and affable outlook she walked effusively towards the garden of our campus. Her untrammelled youth had enthralled me. Next day our eyes met and locked for a split second then drifted away. I didn't go to campus for next few days but on my next visit I saw her seeing in my direction and again our eyes met but this time we smiled. The magic moment passed and we parted.I never saw her again. When I look back at the magic moment it enchants me and fills my heart with happiness.

Irrational son.

Why do I hurt my mother despite possessing ineffable love for her? I think the answer lies in my irrationality when it comes to my relation with my mother. I want to see her always happy. The sight of my mother being tense, sad or depressed shakes my world and I lose my sangfroid and try to make her happy instantly without realizing that she would naturally take some time to get out of her gloomy mood. I become extremely annoyed with whoever causes her bad mood. My extreme agitation affects my heart and brain and I start feeling pain. At this point my mother forgets her own pain, assures me that she is fine and asks me to be normal and there is absolutely nothing that she is worried about. When I hear her I should calm down but then I find myself in a vortex of emotions that keeps spinning my head. Seeing my condition my mother gets stressed and worried and there I feel utmost guilt that in the pursuit of making her happy I have inflicted pain on her. The guilt of causing pain to my mother further exasperates my condition. Finally after hours of talking, expressions of love for each other, promises of taking care of each other and hugging things start to normalize and my mother forgets her pain and smiles as I start my daily routine.
I know I do not deal with the normal swings of my mother’s mood in an emotionally intelligent way but despite my efforts to control my emotions, I lose my control over them and deny my mother her right to be sad, angry or depressed like any other normal human being.

Teaching my veiled students

In my all girls class four of the students wear niqab or veil. Teaching the veiled students was a difficult task for me. I establish eye contact with every student while teaching but I find it difficult to establsih eye contact with girls wearing veils because I thought it might offend them. However without eye contact I found it impossible to teach so I slowly started establsihing eye contact with them. The result was an improved level of communication. Veil ceased to be a formidable barrier as I started focusing on the non-verbal aspects of voice to compensate for the loss of facial gestures that are so important to know the level of comprehension of students.
I haven't seen the faces of my veiled students but in my imagination each student has a face that may not correspond to the actual face but that face smiles, questions, concentrate and performs all the gestures while I teach. I determine the obscure facial expressions of the students through the tone and pitch of their voice and their body language. Those who cannot see with eyes have thousand other ways to appreciate the beauty of world, so if facial expressions are missing there are ample ways to communicate effectively with veiled students.

Heart wrenching

Bob Woolmer's death has shaken the Pakistani nation. "Bob Woolmer has died", the news muted all the tirade against Bob Woolmer by the jingos of Pakistani cricket. In our frenzy to castigate the team we forgot what the toll it would take on the coach and players. Although exact condition of his mind at the time of his death would never be known but the pressure build up following the deafeat of Pakistan may have been too much for the man to cope who had dedicated his life for cricket and in the night following the defeat he collapsed. The Woolmer wanted to quit as the coach of Pakistani team after the completion of his contract in June 2007 to spend more time with his family. He was under tremendous stress and far away from his home in an alien island he couldn't make it to the morning. The headlines of the papers are filled with praise for him but he is no more.

Naxalites of India

The terror attack on the police station in Bijapur by Naxalites as reported in Hindustan Times is deplorable without any doubt. However I was surprised by the scale of killing in this attack and concerned that something terrible is happening in India that is not getting due coverage in international media. The under privileged class in India feels itself trounced under the feet of bourgeoisies who are rapaciously gulping Indian resources to imitate the lifestyle of the citizens of western world. The naxalites represent the reality of interior India that is obscure to the western reporters who are dazzled by the glitter of Bollywood and dazed by the success of Indian cyber world companies. India has aligned itself with the capitalism of US and the socialist ghost of Nehruvian era has been exorcised from its economy. The backlash by the Indian down trodden is feeble yet it is gaining momentum day by day and the time is not far away when the news of the emergence of a leader of Hugo Chavez stature from the little known states of Chhattisgarh or Jharkand would take the world by surprise. In the eyes of western media India is beautiful, democratic, vibrant, progressive, secular and the darling of the west yet in the dark jungles of far off India Naxalites have become the voice of oppressed Indians who find themselves languishing in the India that has no resemblance to the India portrayed in western media.

Abhorently Haughty.

After reading the post Let us trade with Pakistan on Amit Varma's blog IndiaUncut one cannot miss the sense of self righteousness that is prevailing among Indian intelligentia. The simplistic approach of Indian writers of squaring all blames on Pakistan for the troubles in Kashmir is of no help to take out the billions of people of sub continent from the quagmire that we are facing for decades. The worsening of the situation in Kashmir cannot be attributed solely to Pakistani support of the insurgents there. The sooner Indian intelligentsia realizes the bungles of its own government the better India would be in a position to win the hearts of ordinary Pakistanis who really want to see relations between India and Pakistan strengthened. The mess in Indian held Kashmir has to be sorted out. The blame game must stop if Indians want that they should be truly accepted at a higher moral pedestal by ordinary Pakistanis. Haughtiness of Indian political writers is putting off the Pakistanis who want to be the partner in achieving the cherished goal of long lasting peace in Sub continent.

Exclusive Kiosk

Time has stopped in my mind whenever I think of you. What I find there is a tall, fair girl with big eyes and blonde hair sitting on the black leather sofa in front of me in the sumptuous office of an advertising agency where both of us had gone for an interview in a June evening long time ago. I never knew those brief common moments of our lives would leave a permanent mark on my mind. You went back to your own world leaving me behind to reminisce the joy of your brief company. I have captivated that moment or that moment has captivated me, I don't know what I know is that in my imagination I have made an exclusive kiosk where I marvel at your natural simplicity. When I am not with you in the kiosk I imagine you are glowing in the light and I am wondering whether the light is coming from the sun or you.

Keep shining, keep glowing.

You cannot give me " nothing"

I ask from you nothing. Will you be able to give me nothing? No, you cannot give me what I ask. If you try to give me nothing in what shape will you give it to me. Will it be in the form of ignoring me but ignorance is not nothing. In your attempt to give me nothing you are trying to fulfill my desire thus performing the act of lovers who try to fulfill the desire of their beloved. If you intentionally deny it and give me something in the form of attention, affection, love or presence you will be doing something that is also the act of a person who may be on the path of falling in love. The other option of hating me is not possible because nobody hates anyone for asking for nothing. If you hate me for asking for nothing than this itself is the affirmation of your love for me because that shows you want me to want something instead of nothing. You cannot give me nothing. You are doomed.

Gone to Canada

Z is my first cousin. We were born six months apart, I being the elder. We went to the same school and spent 12 years till we pursued different careers. He left for Canada yesterday as an immigrant. I don't know how would I fill the time in the evening when I need a friend to talk about sundry topics like my poetry (that he regarded as merely puerile...) my real or imaginary flirts, our married lives, old friends, politics, philosophy, his chats on yahoo in religion rooms, his friends whom I don't like, (I think these friends were just a wastage of time). There was a sort of tacit agreement between us not to try to change each other though we may advise and suggest what we feel was better for each other. I have spent years and years of close friendship with him and there was hardly a day when we did not talk or meet each other. As he left for Canada I feel a portion of my life vacant. I know I can keep in touch with him through net and call him on phone as well but it will not be the same as it was here. I wish him success and hope to see him soon.

Colors of Holi

When one of my hindu students came to study I asked him did you celebrate holi. His answer was no. I was surprised but he explained that the fun of holi was to celebrate it with family and his family was scattered in Karachi, Hyderabad and his village. He told me in childhood when he used to celebrate it his grand father always told him not to throw colours as they would spoil the floor. He explained that the colours available in Pakistan are hard to get rid off and even after a week they remained on skin and he had to cleanse the body with kerosine. I was surprised how come here the water colors are not available. He may be right...I don't know. Was he hiding something or scattered family and caustic colors were the causes of such a bland holi day in the life of a hindu guy.

Sindhi

Last week I met Mr. Abdul Qadir Junejo, a famous Sindhi writer. It was an intellectually satisfying meeting. I told him about my interest in Sindhi literature and my efforts to excel Sindhi language skills. We talked on diverse matters ranging from gypsies to Portuguese attack on Thatta. On my request he recommended me a Sindhi novel " Rehji Wiyal Manzar" that I purchased next day. The novel is a love story developed in Sindh University campus in Jamshoro. I have picked few new words of Sindhi and I am enjoying the novel. My fluency in the language is improving and one of my student was surprised when he found I could speak Sindhi. I remember those days when in the university I used to fumble in speaking Sindhi and people used to smile on my clumsy efforts of speaking the language. Learning of Sindhi has been a long journey for me. There are few words that only Sindhi speakers could pronounce correctly like Bba, Jn, Gn and my Sindhi friends used to ask me to say JnJn and I was unable to speak. Through practice and efforts I can now pronounce the peculiar Sindhi words correctly and I feel great about it. My journey to explore Sindhi continues and the greatest reward is the enhanced feeling of belonging to Sindh and its people.

Janay do

dil ka har bojh utar janay do
na roko ashk beh janay do

teri zindagi say jo chala gaya
aay jo uski yaad to aanay do

phir kabhi, kabhi na ai ga
hamain hal e dil sunanay do

main khud bhi so hi jaun ga
pehlay khabon ko sulanay do

bat hai tai dar nahin kholna
phir kiyun isay khatkhatanay do

zindagi bhar ka hai saath lekin
main aur dunya goya anjanay do

Son of the Sea

When I boarded the bus to come back to Hyderabad from Karachi his face struck me immediately. He had a very dark complexion that became starker due to his shocking green dress. The seat beside him was empty and there I sat. I asked him is he from Thar, the remote desert in the South East of Pakistan. He looked like a Thari but he replied no he is not from Thar. He was from a small village along River Indus in the north of Hyderabad, Sindh. He belonged to the community of fishermen known as Mallahs. Mallah literally means the boatman. He told me he was coming from the sea after fishing there for a month and going back to his village. I asked him about his life on sea and his eyes shined as he told me that the life on sea is wonderful. He spend nearly a month on sea catching fish. Fishing has been their livelihood since centuries. The take all the food on the boat and spend days and nights in open sea. During the nights they dance and sing. Finding me interested in his work he asked me to go along with him on a fish catching trip. I liked him, his simplicity and sincerity. He was the son of the sea. His dark complexion was the making of years of exposure to the heat of sun. I enjoyed his company and said good bye to him before getting off from the bus.

On a weight loss jaunt

It has been 5 days since I am on a diet and eating only chicken and salad. It feels good but pounds are yet to shed. I want to lose weight to look great and feel great. I am enjoying the change in diet.

Delhi once again

I dreamt of Delhi again. It was a saint's tomb and I was sitting with the disciples. I introduced myself to them as Pakistani. When I saw outside it was a ruined masoleum and in the back ground I saw Qutb Minar. I had an idea that it was the tomb of Hazrat Qutbuddin Bakhtiar Kaki.

Cynicism must not prevail

It was my last lecture of the course in an MBA class. As has always been the case I urged the students to be genuine, creative and forward looking. One of the students quipped that all our strategies and analysis would be of no use because in Pakistani environment an illiterate boss would scuttle our ideas and demand blind compliance of his orders. The mood of the class changed as if all their studies are in waste and they cannot make any real difference through their efforts once they are out in the field. I vehemently opposed the belief that out there in the practical life they would face ogres. Subscribing to the idea of cynicism tantamounts to accepting the role of education and educational institutions as ineffective and by the same token it would mean that my standing as a teacher has no impact on the outside world.I tried to defuse despair by injecting hope among all the students and exhorted that no matter what circumstances you face keep the negative thoughts away and concentrate on delivering the best, certainly, you can and will make a difference. The cynicism must not prevail because it would paralyze your limbs and mind and leave you frustrated. You must give yourself a full chance in life by continual improvement in your education and skills. Do not succumb to cynicism because if you succumb I would lose my pride as a teacher. I have seen success and the seed of success is born in the mind, here right here in you.

Your hand

Your hand slipped away and I was lost
I am looking for that hand to find me back
Do you know how much I have missed you
In thousand dreams I have kissed you
Time sepeartes you and me
it's increasing, it's decreasing
the feel of your hand is still with me
and that gives the clue of my being.

Cold nights

Cold nights challenge me to dare out and feel their raw chill. I want to spend a night over the top of an arid mountain in Kirthar range. When cold freezes me I will take refuge in a cave and lit the fire and wait for the sun to come out.

Sunny Serene Sky

After Monday's thunderous rain Hyderabad's sky is sunny once again.
I love the colour of sky.

Timeless purity

Many will be sending you the messages to wish you happy birthday but they don't know you were born at the time when the stars were born billions of years ago. The glimmer in your eyes is similar to the glitter of heavenly diamonds in a pitch black cloudless night. Your purity is timeless and originality is intact just as the purity of stars is untouched and unmolested.

Emotions and words

She said, "I am good at words for emotions". If you are good at words for emotions you are a poet. We usually fumble and lose our way in the labyrinth of expressing our emotions. To be good in expressing ones emotions is an art because I think one is considered good in expressing the feelings if he/she is able to make other understand the feelings as well, if you are able to do so then certainly you are eloquent and you do not need to be an orator because the skill you possess is rare.

Delhi in my dream

I dreamed of Delhi last night. It was an old part of Delhi having high rise but old palaces and the tombs of saints. While passing through a street I heard someone saying to his younger brother give niaz of 2 annas for a wali but not of 4 annas, his brother replied "aftab" (aftab meant in my dream ok though actually it means "Sun"). I travelled like a wanderer on foot and thought that one day when I actually visit Dilli (let me call Delhi as Dilli as it gives the feelings of belonging) I would find these places so I tried to remember the details of the monuments.

Elegant beauty

If you were born 100 years ago you would be living in a secluded room of a Haveli in a city along river Ganges. Only your eyes could be seen from the small window of your room. Thanks God you were not born at that time and now I can see your elegant beauty unhindered.

Unaiza Nasim: In the line of duty...

Unaiza Nasim: In the line of duty...

Deciphering My Emotions.

Fiction
The difficulty to understand the nature of my emotions has not barred me to look deep inside myself and get a feeling of my emotions. I see a rampant flow of passion gushing out from my heart to inundate the target of my emotions. I am awed by the sheer power of my passion and admit the target of my emotions would be terrified to be swept away in the amorous flood yet I believe when it is over the target of my emotions would have been satiated up to the hilt. This is what I believe; what if when emotions subside I find the target of my emotions in the battered condition? What if instead of being satiated the target of my emotions is devastated? What should I do? Keep the check on my emotions and devoid the target of my emotions of the most gratifying experience of becoming the center of undivided attention of a passionate being. No I cannot go against my nature: this is the message I get from my emotions.

Anew Love Story

"The following passage is a piece of fiction."

In an alien land of your exile I want to cross your path in a murky evening as a stranger to start the love story which never began though it could have begun had I known how to begin love stories when we met for the first time. Do you know you taught me indirectly how to begin love stories? Of course you did all instinctively but through your actions I learn the instincts of woman. You became my learning ground for understanding woman for which I am indebted to you. It has been many years since I last saw you and during this time I have met hundreds of women and refined on my initial learning and I consider myself now experienced enough to begin the love story that never began with you. The story that will begin now has a plot, the title is love story but there is no love, it is a story of calculated moves in which you will have what you always wanted: hope and anxiety, excitement and boredom, victories and defeats, certainty and uncertainty a complete course in falling in love. Finally after a long quest you will get what you wanted attributing the victory to your unflinching power of love. At that moment I will smile on the naivety of my acts and foolishness of my efforts to win your heart when we met for the first time.

Mound of the Dead

On the second day of Eid I visited Moen Jo Daro with my mathematics teacher of school days. The ruins of Moen Jo Daro or Mound of the Dead lie 300 km north of Hyderabad on the banks of river Indus. The purpose of the visit was to see the genius of the people of Indus valley civilization that existed between 2500-1500 BC. After a journey of over 4 hours when we reached MJD we found a huge number of people visiting the place to enjoy the Eid holidays. My mathematics teacher was conducting a research to show the mathematical advancement of the dwellers of MJD and the use of mathematics in the construction of their city. My teacher said that people of MJD were far advanced in mathematics and the Greeks had learnt most of the mathematical concepts from the people of Indus valley civilization. He pointed to the number of wells of different sizes in MJD and told that it was likely these people knew the use of Pi to make wedge shaped bricks to construct these wells. After spending 3 hours on the site we returned back to Hyderabad just after dusk. On the way back my teacher told me about many links between Indus valley and Greece. There are many words common in Sindhi (language of the land of MJD) and Greek. It was a learning of high class and a holiday well spent.

Lonely victory

Fiercely ambitious people crush every one who comes in their way. For them every interaction is an opportunity to further their own interests. They see the world as if it exists only for them. They want all relationships to serve their purpose. Their purpose is to reach the heights where no one is above them. In the pursuit of their goal they destroy many lives and at the end what they get is loneliness at the peak of the mountain. This mountain is made up by the heaps of tormented people. Who are these people? They are the ones whom they had called their friends and loved ones. A lonely victory is the end of every ambitious man's story.

Poverty and Peace

"Lasting peace cannot be achieved unless large population groups find ways in which to break out of poverty”, this was stated by Nobel Peace Prize committee as it awarded this year Nobel Prize for Peace to Muhammad Yunus of Grameen Bank. The above statement is the statement for hope for the world. Muhammad Yunus has transformed the traditional banking sector by providing small credit to poor especially poor women without asking for any collateral. The Nobel Prize is the recognition of the role of Grameen Bank and its founder in the promotion of peace by eliminating one of the major causes of war: poverty. Nobel committee has shown to the world that war or absence of peace is caused by economic reason. I appreciate the decision of the Nobel Committee mainly because it highlights the relationship between poverty and war.

The wide gap in the standard of living that exists between poor and rich creates ill will among the poor towards rich. The poor of the world see the world resources have been monopolized by few rich nations and these rich nations plunder the resources of poor countries through regimes run by kings, generals and other despots. Wherever there is anarchy the root cause will be economic injustice. If the world resources are shared on equitable basis the ever-elusive world peace is achievable by mankind. “

Women all around

My younger sister when she came yesterday said to me, "Bhaijan I have observed that it's all women around you". I smiled and replied, " I am very lucky". At that time these were the women present and I was the only man.

a. Mother
b. Wife
c. 2 daughters.
d. 3 Studnets (all girls).
e. 2 housemaids.
f.1 sister
g. 1 niece.

MashAllah :)

Roller coaster

I am flawed, erratic and moody
yet you hold my hand all along
not knowing where I would lead you
sometimes we soar as if never to fall
when I become quiet, you wait for my call
my life is like a roller coaster
Love entered in my life when I stopped being perfect
and it was then you told me " I love to ride on a roller coaster."

Analysis of Pope Benedict Speech

There is an uproar in the Islamic world on the speech made by Pope Benedict in which he has quoted a Byzantine King who said "Show me just what Mohammed brought that was new, and there you will find things only evil and inhuman, such as his command to spread by the sword the faith he preached."
I was aghast at the use of malicious quotation by Pope and thought why would he say such a thing in the time when the world is already in turmoil due to religious intolerance. To understand the motive behind his speech I read its full text. Here is my analysis.

1. The objective of the Pope in the speech was to invite non-practicing Christians back to the religion of Christianity. He pleaded them the case of religion (Christianity) that had lost its central position among Europeans.
2. The strategy he adopted to achieve the objective was first to malign Islam by quoting the Byzantine King who was humiliated by Turks throughout his life. Then he portrayed Islam as a religion in which there is no place of logic. Why did he malign Islam? To get a soft corner in the heart of the audiences who in these times consider Islamic fundamentalism the greatest threat to the secular civilization of Europe.
3. Next he quoted from Bible that Logos (Logic and word) is God. This quotation was to appeal to the secular audience, who are adherent of the logic and followers of science.
4. He then said the Church and Greek Philosophy have never been at odds essentially. (This was important because audience identify themselves with Greek Philosophy, Socrates, Plato, Aristotle, and not with church.)
5. He quoted a Muslim philosopher Ibn Hazn who said, "God is not bound even by his own word, and that nothing would oblige him to reveal the truth to us. Were it God's will, we would even have to practice idolatry. " Now here he tried to discredit Islam through this quotation as a religion in which God is not oblige to reveal the truth.
6.Then he tried to detach the modern Catholic Church from the past in which Church itself was the greatest impediment in the path of enlightenment and logic.
7. He then appealed that religion must not be excluded from the realm of logic and the Europe that wants to engage in the dialogue with other civilizations/religions must do so as Christian Europe because there is no conflict in the Christian faith and the values of secular Europe.

The points mentioned above show the position of a man whose institution has lost its ground long time ago and he is trying his best to reclaim the central position for the institution he represents and to do so he used Islam that is indeed sad and dangerous.
How should Muslims react? Muslims should not involve themselves in violent protests. The Muslims should involve themselves in intellectual debate. In universities and in media the Islamic scholars must respond to the misinformation that exists about Islam in Europe through historical facts.

Indus View: Latifabad, Hyderabad, Sindh.

No.

That was a moment when I felt all alone, left out in the middle, abondened under the scorching sun in a city of chaos and mayhem. I had two choices either to crumble down and crack under the pressure of that ominous moment or to lick my wounds and without wasting time in lamenting the fate carry on to do what I was upto. I selected the later choice. I didn't allow that moment to suppress my will and write me off. As I withstood that moment everything started to click. Unknown forces came to my help. Strangers became friends and blind curves opened new vistas for me. I didn't do much except saying NO to that moment that was asking me to surrender, that was trying to numb my senses, that was forcing me to withdraw from the game of life.

In wilderness.

I am shining, I am glowing, I am dancing, I am flying, I am flowing in wilderness.
I long for you O my love.
Shine, glow, dance, fly and flow with me.
Give meaning to my existence.

Call of my heart.

The tranquility of mind depends on the clarity of purpose. What is the purpose of living? Do we have time to think about it? Do we really make a delibrate decision about it?I doubt. What is the purpose of my life? It is an enormous question. I have defined certain goals for my life but I cannot say "this" is the purpose of my life. I want to know myself, my abilities, my potential and work on that. I want to be "Me". Without considering how old I am, what qualifications I possess, how much money I have I want to answer the call of my heart. My heart tells me to love. To love what is around you. How to love? It is a difficult question. I think when I put aside my own biases and take the thing as it is it reveals its beauty and then I could love that. Human beings fascinate me most. I want to reach the real inside the person. I want to peel off the layers subtly of the person and see the real one. The beauty is inside. What I have found is that all human beings are vulnerable to fall in love. They cover themselves up. These covers are the protection against the intruders whom they cannot trust. I want to shed their fear and see through. To see the real one. The greatest joy I get is when someone trusts me and I uphold the trust. The greatest sorrow is to break that trust. I love to reach the heart of other human being and handle it with care. I want to listen and understand. I want to love and be loved. My thirst for love is never quenched. The stream of my love is never dried. We are all different apparently but deep down we are all same. We all crave for love.

Two Valleys

In the valley of Indus it is dusk and I am returning home
on the western horizon it is all red
cool air is kissing my cheeks
it has just been rained,
"Life is beautiful", says my heart,
In no time my thoughts travel to a far away land
there too, the sky is red, but the color is of blood
there too, it has rained, but the rain of bombs
I think of a man who has no home to return
the cool air has kissed his cheeks but it carries the message of chilling death
Now my heart says, " Life is beautiful but I can't rejoice until there is peace in the valley of Bekaa.".

I am looking.

Look, I am looking.
Looking at something?
No.
Looking for something?
No.
Looking into something?
Yes.
What are you looking into?
Into your heart through your eyes.
What did you find there?
An ocean.
Ocean...? What's in the ocean?
Your love for me.

Mumbai and Qana

Many Indian bloggers support the Israeli attack on Lebanon.

Mumbai, India.........Innocent train commuters killed in bomb blasts.
Qana, Lebanon.........Innocent Labanese civilians are killed by the Israeli war planes' bombings.

Is there any difference between the blood of Mumbai victims and Qana victims?

I don't see any difference. Nor do I see any difference between the blood of civilians killed in Northern Israel and those killed in Gaza on every day basis by Israel.

I urge my Indian friends not to support Israel in its ruthless campaign that is destroying Lebanon and causing deaths to civilians.

Roaring Monsoon.

Latifabad, Hyderabad enveloped.

I am happy.

On tuesday ammi insisted, "go to Karachi, you need a break, I would take care of myself, don't worry about me." There Sam kept calling "come to Karachi, I am missing you, I have never missed you like that before, but it's upto you if you wanna come, but why don't you come, but keep your mood good, it's your choice, I am not pushing you, plan it na, come." So finally when two of the most important women in my life were asking for the same thing, I had no choice but to go and there I went. During the journey I was excited to see NL and Naveen and Sam. Mostly NL, she has become my darling and I was missing her like anything as Karachi was coming closer. When I reached NL was looking so cute in her new hair style
In the evening I went to Liberty books with Sam and her cousin who had come from Canada. She wanted that I choose some books for her. I selected Pilgrimage by Paulo Coelho, Love in the time of Cholera by Gabriel Marquez and Immortality by Milan Kundera for her and gave one book by Karen Armstrong as a gift as well. I love book shops and I do not want to get out of them. When I pick a book I lightly touch the cover to have the feel and read the back cover to know what other say about it then I open the book and read the preface and then glance through the pages, read some lines and by this time I have a fair idea whether I want to purchase the book or not. There were many tempting titles but I kept my control as I didn't want to spend when I still have unfinished books. In the night I went to attend a wedding party. My relatives congratulated me on the new born but some of the them said InshAllah next time it would be a son. Like they were saying man don't worry better luck next time. Now why do people keep saying this to me. I am happy with two daughters. For me having children is itslef a blessing no matter one has boys or girls. I have got one assignment from a production house as well in Karachi. They want me to write a script of a travellogue on the historical and least known but exotic places in Sindh. Though they are paying me not much but I want to give it a go. I love walking in Karachi and the weather was marvellous during my stay. I had two long walks. So much is happening but best part is I am feeling elated and confident. After spending a refreshing time in Karachi I am back to my town across river Indus.

Never take a woman for granted.

Woman wants love...undivided attention, exclusive moments, appreciation of uniqueness, understanding of emotions and true listening. What she wants is a companion who absorbs her changing-mood-shocks and just be with her no matter how irrational she behaves because when woman loves it is not based on reason, it is based on emotions, feelings.
A man who gets the love of woman is the luckiest man in the world because the love of woman gives him the power to conquer the world, to follow his dreams and to march on all the fronts of life fearlessly. In the pursuit of his dreams a man should never forget the woman who loves him because if he takes her for granted he shatters her and this is not what a real man does.

Gain and Loss.

I went to the institute after receiving the call from MBA program coordinator. He wanted to talk on the remuneration for the subjects for next semester. Oh......something must have happened that forced him to call me because last time when he had talked he told me in a firm voice NO we couldn't pay you what you wanted. When I went there in the afternoon he asked me for a cup of tea and I said no. He wanted me to accept what they were offering but I was in no mood to compromise. Last semester they had to change four teachers for the subject that they had taken away from me. They wanted to give me the subject back but now I would not accept without their accepting my conditions. After trying his best and seeing me stubborn he finally said Ok, have your timetable. I felt good, really good inside. I was not unfair with them I was only asking what they were offering to the teachers from Karachi (though no teacher from Karachi accepted their offer). I told them I am no less a teacher in quality so why should I accept less.

After the deal when I went upstairs to collect the book I saw FS. She didn't meet me warmly and I asked what happened to you, are you angry or what? She said, " Don't you see it on my face, I am devastated." I asked what happened as I sat in the faculty enclosure for a cup of tea. He has broken the engagement three months back. I am missing him very much because today is my birthday, last year he was with me, I couldn’t bear the pain of breakup. I felt so bad for her, she was engaged with him for 5 years. I was looking for words to give her hope but all the words I thought looked hopeless. How could I give hope to a girl whose love has been shattered? She said I would never ever trust any man again. I hate men. Why did I trust him, she was regretting. I was sitting in front of her, listening to her. Soon other staff joined and she kept quiet. I managed to tell her that InshAllah next year when your birthday comes you will have what you want. It will be the birthday full of happiness. I told her about my new born, tried to make her happy, but I found she was lost in her world. My words were touching her ears but not making any effect on her heart. I realized the pain is severe and told her that you had a friend here whom you could share anything you want. I came home with mix feelings, I was happy that I got what I wanted as my remuneration but sad that FS fiancé had left her.

Silly...don't play with heart.

I had never experienced such a thing before but it happened to me lately, a shoot up in blood pressure. It was a silly thing to begin with but when the heat is on you do not recognize how silly you are behaving. I was under stress no doubt, Sam was in the hospital after the cesarean operation, I had not taken proper rest for two nights and financially I was feeling the crunch. In the hospital I was running up and down for medicines and also taking care of Sam because she needed me on her side more than anyone else. When I finally came home for a break a query about certain payment blew it all. I consider the query inappropriate for the time. I felt that no one cares for me and everyone cares only about payments and money.

I felt hurt and I told my heart not to feel well. I felt cold sweat on my forehead and a burden on my heart. My heart started behaving the way I wanted. I was surprised why it was following my mind. Suddenly it happened I had high blood pressure, first time in my life. Damn, why did I order my heart to act erratically. As my condition worsened, panic struck in my home. Baji called for the doctor and my poor mother started crying. I was feeling bad but now it was real. I was feeling a huge burden on my heart. Baji checked my blood pressure and it was 90/140. I was feeling so bad and ashamed. I was not feeling well but I couldn’t allow this to continue. I had to act fast. To calm them I said I was feeling fine. It's ok. No need for taking me to hospital, give me lots of water. I smiled, hugged my mother and told her I love you more than anyone in the world. I told my heart hey I am fine, you idiot, why you listened to me. It didn’t listen now. I kept feeling the pain. I kept quiet and thought of the new born, of Sam, of NL and of all the loved ones. Later on when my heartbeats got normal and I felt ok I went to hospital to see Sam.

Lesson: Never play with your heart. Think positively. Do not react. Control your emotions. Heart will follow what you will say. Take it easy.

Self talk: There is so much beauty in life and you are the most charming man around (I am pampering my heart and I know it very well). Money is no problem and you have to go a long way.

I am fine now but it was a terrible experience.

Unbroken connectivity of time and people.

Every moment is the end of an era and the beginning of the new one but it is not discernable to see where one ends and another begins. Story of each person's life continues, it is not like the movie with a happy or sad ending. There is no respite from the every day problems and stress. New challenges keep emerging. Ignoring the issues is merely a self deception. Ghalib said " moat say pehlay aadmi gham say nijaat paey kiyun/Before death how could a man get respite from grieves". In my opinion even after death there is the continuity. The children left behind, the unresloved problems of one's life, the impact of his actions or inertia continues his story even long after his death. Infact every person is the entry in the long novel that is called the history of world. You are bound to play the role according to the plot of your time. End is not known and beginning is obscure such is the stroy of world. The history of the world and the biographies of individuals are intertwined.
We cannot act outside the realm of present that is the outcome of the acts of individuals of the past and acts of today are shaping the future that will become the ground for action for future generations. Connectivity is unbroken. The realization that every moment is vital puts immense responsibility on each one of us for the better formation of future however our future does not depend on the outcome of our own actions but on the actions of millions of others as well. We just simply cannot remain oblivious of the thought and actions of the people around us and also we cannot shrug our own responsibility in building the future. More than six billion people are shaping the world of tomorrow. Six billion plus biographies = State of the world tomorrow.

Two 10th-Julys

I am blessed with a daughter on 10th of July at 1:30 pm. 10th of July is my birthday as well. Now what better gift I could get on this day. Love you Sam.

Maazi/Past

Mujhay maazi khenchta hai
nahin...mujhay tum khainchtay ho
kiyunki mera mazi tum hi to ho.

Past pulls me....
nay....you pull me.
because my past is you.
-----------------------------------------

"jism agay barh gaya......rooh peechay rah gai
body moved on and the soul was left behind"

Moon

Last night while walking in the street I saw moon peeping between the minaret and a tree. I thought what a photograph it would be. At the same time I felt as if moon was saying to me, "it is only your view that catches me sometimes between a minaret and a tree, sometimes behind the branches of tree, sometimes just above the horizon, sometimes over the desert and sometimes between two of your fingers. For me all of your angles of view are meaningless because I travel in the vast expanse of universe. I am the same at this moment but thousands of my different poses from all over the world may be taken depending on the viewers. Your imagination captures me otherwise I am free beyond your reach."
With these thoughts in my mind as I moved forward I saw moon in a different light, it was soaring high, shining in the cloudless sky, proud and aloof. I extended my hand to catch it but couldn't.

Finally it rained.

Finally last evening it rained heavily after a dust storm. The electricity went off immediately and didn't come back till morning. I recieved a call from my nephew and brother in law who had returned from a trip to China. My nephew was full of praise for China. He said , " Dubai is nothing as compared to Shanghai. China is far far ahead". He is a teenager and I consider him lucky to have visited foreign countries at this young age. What he has learnt in few days of travelling equals a year of learning from books only. After talking to them the traveller in me became restless. When will I go to far away places? When will my time come? Perhaps as soon as I just go without thinking much. Just go. I will go by train to Beijng from Kashgar after reaching Kashgar via Karakoram highway. A long journey. I will take that journey.
Coming back to the present the weather is pleasant here. It is cloudy. I hope the electricity will not fail for long time periods and I will feel at peace with myself.

Hugo Chavez

President Hugo Chavez of Venezuela is the most vocal critic of the "American imperialism". I am following the rise of Hugo Chavez with interest. His speech at AU summit in Gambia in West Africa is testimony to his courage and it is heartening to see that there are leaders in the world who could challenge the US openly. Later in his visit he talked to reporters. The excerpts of his talk are given below.

"Europe and the United States should apologize to Africa for the cruelties of slavery."

"Both Africa and Latin America had been blighted by slavery and colonialism for centuries, to the benefit of Europe and North America. Africa is still weeping ... and Europe does not recognize it. Europe should apologize, get on its knees and apologize. They should lower their European arrogance and say sorry, as, one day, North America should apologize."

"The powerful nations will continue to dictate to us via multinational companies and neo-liberal economic policy, and if we cannot resist this neo-colonialism, we will be crushed."

"No to the Pax Americana. No to Superman. No to the American Empire. No to the American way of life. No. That is the way to hell."

"The United States said again yesterday that Venezuela does not qualify for a seat. With what authority does the imperialist government of the United States decide who should sit on the U.N. Security Council?"

"If there was real democracy in the world, the U.S. government would be placed under administration because it is a government of the United States that ignores the democracy of its people and ignores democracy in the world: it invades countries, murders and bombs cities."

Do we have any one leader in Pakistani government who could shout, "The king is naked"?

main hi kiyun?

ishq ishq
sehra sehra
kante kante
kucch bhi nahin
per teray siwa
qadam bekhud, badan gard alood, dil be-qarar
sab dhoka hai
per yeh aagahi, ik saza hai
main hi kiyun?

Dusk....time to fly home!!

Dusk at Latifabad, Hyderabad.
Taken from the roof of my home.

Roots, values and contribution.

Who am I? What are the values of my family? What is important and what is superficial? What will be my contribution? What will be my legacy?

1. I belong to Bhatti, Rajput clan of Jaislamer, Rajasthan, India.
2. I am 21st descendant of Alf Khan Bhatti (Ala Singh) who embraced Islam in 14th century inspired by the teachings of Chishti Sufiyas of Ajmair.
3. My ancestors 400 years back migrated from Jaislamer and settled in Mahendragarh, (Kanod), East Punjab (Now in Haryana), India.
4. 1947 Muslims of East Punjab had to leave their homes.
5. My grand father settled in Hyderabad, Sindh in Pakistan in 1947.
6. My father made his home in Latifabad, Hyderabad in 1963.
7. I was born in 1969 in the same home and I still live here.
8. My language is Urdu as Urdu was the language of the areas of East Punjab in the vicinity of Delhi.
9. I love Sindh as my new homeland but I long for visiting India.
10. I have learnt Sindhi and wish my children speak it fluently.
11. Simplicity and humility are the qualities to be adopted, I have learnt this lesson from the examples of my elders.
12. Books have been our first friends and I want this friendship to continue in coming generations.
13. Never be impressed by worldly possessions is the message we get from our elders.
14. I want to leave my imprints in the form of students, books and institution.

River Indus: Dry and docile

In its final leg of journey towards Arabian Sea river Indus flows near Latifabad, Hyderabad. The bed of river is dry. Strong winds blow the sand towards the city. In summer this sand is very irksome for all of us. No monsoon rains yet so we will have to wait to see river flowing in its full swing.

Lava

It is hot fluid lava rushing inside my veins. It is like a fire that devastates whatever comes in its way. My body is becoming like a volcano and it may erupt any time. I have been keeping the restraint, neglecting the comments of those who happen to be around me. Do they think I do not know what is best for me. Ah...the prisoners of routines, how will they know about the life of an independent person? They want to bring me down so that they can gloat over the defeat of a person who has always despised the corrupt system and its parasites. They have underestimated the power of a person who has nothing to fear, nothing to lose. They cannot withstand the wrath of someone who can see straight in their eyes, peel the layers of hypocrisy over their warped personalities and show them their naked prejudices. I warn all the manipulative, mendacious and mediocre blood suckers who have occupied high posts in society not to fiddle with me because if I erupt they will just perish.

Declaration.

I don't want to do a job in a bank or in any MNC or in any other setup where I become the tool of someone else strategic implementation. I want to live as my own boss and self employed. Doing things that give me inner satisfaction, like writing and teaching. I want to live the way I want. Period.

Absolutely nothing

Increasingly I am becoming wary of absolutes. For me it is beyond the capacity of human beings to know the ultimate truth. The ways of following one's life are so diverse that no one can claim that his/her is the right one. Let's not talk about main religions of the world just look at the way pagans live. From Australian aborigines to African pygmies we will find human race living naturally without following any of the major religion. Who is right and who is wrong? The answer will always vary. No one knows the absolute. "The truth" is elusive. I shudder at the vanity of those who claim to know the truth.
I give my self to the flow of nature and I swim in this flow...............I do not know from where I have come ......I am a flash, a flicker, I am humble, a wanderer, in awe of this brief presence, of this awareness of self, for I know immensity of time will suck me and I will be no more.

It is called Astro Turf

In the evening I went to stadium in the vicinity of my house for jogging (I am not into it..but on and off I have a desire to reduce weight, to feel fluffy and to look cooler;)). Well, there after couple of rounds I took out from my pocket my latest obsession (digital camera) and took the picture of a boy, in the backgroud was newly laid Astro turf. The boy hesitantly asked me " Is this a carpet?". In his voice I found the apprehension that I may snub him. I smiled and took his question as an opportunity to contribute in the knowledge of a young boy who may even not be going to school. I told him it is called Astro turf and I asked him to repeat till he pronounced it correctly. I felt very good that now he knows what it is, correctly. I further told him it is like a carpet but needs lots of water to keep it in right condition. Before leaving I asked his name. His name was Haris. I hope in future Haris will have no apprehensions in asking questions to know about unknown.

Cats in my home

Cats have always been an integral part of our home. Infact sometimes we say that it's the cat's house in which we are living. They come and go inside our house with free will. The store room is the maternity home for all the cats of neighberhood. There has never been a time when our home has no cats. Cats of all shapes and colours have been the residents. One of the cats has the habit of pushing down the trash bin of the kitchen with its paws on regular basis in search of some edible. My mother is truly annoyed by the cats but has accepted them as unavoidable nuisance.
Today I took this picture of one of the cats of our home. She is taking rest under the champa tree in the hot afternoon.

First picture on my blog: Cloudy Evening

This is the first picture I have uploaded on my blog. The picture is taken by my recently bought digital camera. (I did'nt know how to fix the date...see the wrong date). The picture is taken from the lawn of my home.

God bless them.

Last 15 days had been very busy. My sister was getting married. It had been a long ordeal for her. She got divorced in 1998 after 4 years of dismal married life. Some of the relatives looked at her in such a way as if she had no future. In their opinion there is no future of a woman without marriage. My father passed away in 2004 and even at his funeral people commented " Oh what an unfortunate girl she is..that her father passed away with the desire of seeing her married." Then in January this year a proposal came from one of our acquaintances. Her brother's wife died leaving 3 children. Two girls of 7 and 9 years old and a boy hardly 6 months old. Apparently such a proposal was not very attractive but the decisive factor was the person himself. His age was just few years more than the age of my sister. Lively, decent, responsible and family oriented were his qualities. I talked to my sister, asked her to see him and meet ( at our home) and then decide. She gave her consent and finally on June 2 they got married. Last night they came and the girls were calling my sister Mama, they were glowing and my sister was happy too. God bless them.

Making of a Player

Many years ago he said to his love,

"I love you with free will
and you know that I love you
don't tie me with the chain of my love to you
I abhor to be slaved
don't punish me for telling you that I love you
lest I become a manipulator
a player
who will never love, just pretend to fall in love
infact to make other fall in love
and then treat them the way you are treating me
tell me.........has your love been trampled?
is it a vicious circle?.....break this circle
embrace my love."

--------------------
"He is a player now."

Done away with....

I have done away with all the musts
I fly high, see the crumbling shackles
My restive heart longing for the desert night
I look for abode far away in the mountain's height
I am one of you O shimmering stars
we don't need words to talk for hours
O rain! come, greet me, I am free
touch my soul, hail the victory.

Fear.

I want to visit Gorakh Hills since the time I came to know that it is the highest peak in Sindh. The problem is that it lies in the hinterland of Dadu district which is notorious due to the presence of dacoits. Although I have travelled many times in that area but I never ventured deep inside the hills off the main Indus High way. I know local people there , I have talked to them and they are willing to provide me escort to Gorakh Hills, but a certain unknown fear occupies my heart, and I don't like that I am afraid. I am afraid of what? Is it about dacoits? Those dacoits who may or may not be present.
I know that one has to take risks to explore the unknown. Sometimes I think the dacoit fear is just an excuse to keep delaying the reply to the call of wilderness, to keep supressing the desire of the heart because now the heart is testing the resolve of the lover of nature. Fears are within not outside. The real dacoit is the fear that is robbing me of my dreams, I will not let it do that.

Her plea.

Do not surrender so quickly
let me conquer you
it's just the beginning
let the flicker turn into the flame
let me miss you, let me think of you
let me sigh, let me die, let me come alive
let me burn, let me yearn and let me earn your love
let me have all the feelings
make me complete.

That hurts...

I: You know when I will be old, I will look back at the time spend with you and cherish every moment of it and remember you as someone who touched the strings of my heart subtly and I will be thankful to you for opening yourself to me, for trusting me and for making my life more beautiful.
She: Oh! you will leave me, that hurts.

Among the intellegentsia

Whenever I feel frustrated by the lack of opportunities to indulge in intellectual discussions I take refuge in the cyberspace. I knock the doors of eminent writers, enter their homes, listen to them and savor their words as if they are the drops of honey. I completely lose the sense of time and space while I am in their company. Today I have come to know about some of the great literary minds and now I look forward to reading their books. I am give credit to Chandrahas Choudhury for becoming my guide to the literary world of cyberspace. His blog The Middle Stage is one of the finest blogs on literature. Today I met Nepalese writer Samrat Upadhyay. He has written short stories as well as a novel. I am fond of reading novels so I will be ordering his novel The Guru of Love from Liberty Books. (In Hyderabad I hardly find latest books in English literature so I have to rely on my visits to Karachi or on online shopping.) Next in the line was William Trevor. The rendezvous took place at BBC website. He was a sculptor but then fell for his love for words. If you do what you are passionate about you are bound to excel. I have not yet decided which of Trevor's book I will read. Apart from these two writers I read about other writers and their books. During the reading I kept picking up new words for building the vocabulary. Oh!! I love words as they are the pebbles I play with and and I want lots of them. Before I finish I want to mention about another writer whose books are among the top of my list for future reading. Eduardo Galeano is the writer from Uruguay. I like to know about history, culture and politics of land in fiction and it seems Galeano has produced some work that is exactly what I want to read.

Your cloudless blue sky.

Right now the sky here is clear blue and absolutely cloudless. When I look at the sky I try to detremine its mood. When its cloudy I infer the mood is jubiliant. (This is Sindh). When there is thunderstorm the sky is enraged. When there is duststorm sky is irritated and when there is no air and every thing is still the sky is gloomy. (This rarley happens here as Hyderabad's nights are famous for cool air and its days are almost always windy).
What does cloudless clear blue sky represent? It represents the real character of sky......calm, thoughtful, profound, sober, patient and aloof. No matter what seasons come and go, eventually sky remains what it is. Beyond the thick layers of clouds or sheet of dust sky is blue and ofcourse cloudless. We experience this when we fly above, all is blue.
I am using all this as a metaphor to bring a point into notice. Everyone should know and remain in touch with his or her real character, real self. No matter what is the mood it will pass. No matter how we feel at that time that emotion will be over. Inside you there is a clear blue sky that is unaffected by the swings of moods. That clear blue sky is real you. The depression or bad moods you experience are like sandstorm or clouds over the sky. As the sky remains unaffected no matter what goes beneth it same is the case with your real self it will be not affected by temporary swings of moods. Know and keep in touch with the cloudless blue sky inside you. (This post is inspired by Deepak Chopra's book Uncoditional Life)

Nakata and Zorba

Last week I finsihed reading the novel "Kafka on the Shore" by Haruki Murakami and what an absorbing experience that was. Nakata, one of the characters of the novel, reminded me of Zorba, a character of Kazantzakis' novel "Zorba the Greek". Despite having entirely different upbringing and background both share an uncanny similarity in character. What is that similarity? I call it their natural way of living. By natural way of living I mean absorbing oneself to nature to become part of nature and feel at ease with nature. Plants, air, rain, sunshine are all natural phenomenon so are the human beings. Both Nakata and Zorba acted naturally. Having no burden of the past, living in the present, giving fully to the task at hand, having a sound sleep when tired, replenishing the energies with food and enjoying every single bit of it when hungry are their natural ways of living.What was the result of living such a life......they were happy. Living a life naturally seems easy but only few actually live life naturally.

Hawaiian Queen' s Message to Americans

The islands of Hawaii in the mid of Pacific Ocean are now 50th state of the US. Since childhood I was fascinated by these remote Islands of Pacific Ocean. The mainland USA is 2300 miles away in the east. Hawaii was an independent state till 1890. In 1893 Queen Lili'uokalani was dethroned by Americans. She sent the following message to the American people. The message contains pain and a sense of betrayal. I post the message so that we remember the sad story of the annexation of Hawaii by US whenever we see fun filled pictures of Hawaii.

" Do not covet the little vineyards of Naboth so far from your shores, lest the punishment of Ahab fall upon you, if not in your day, in that of your children, for ' be not decieved, God is not mocked.' The people to whom your fathers told of the living God, and taught them to call 'Father,' and whom the sons now seek to despoil and destroy, are crying to Him in their time of trouble; and He will keep his promise, and will listen to the voices of His Hawaiian children lamenting for their homes."

Such a pain, such a grief.

Idealism vs Realism

She and I were sitting on the bench in the evening in the campus garden. She was wearing light green lawn suit. Yes summer has arrived here. The gentle breeze of river Indus touching her hair. She looked so fresh. I was seated beside her on the bench. Few of her books were placed between us. After greeting one another through eyes she spoke.
She: Now you tell me why are you so much against being idealist?
I: It’s because Idealist ignores reality and search for something that does not exist. I am against idealism because it forgets to see the beauty in reality.
She: Beauty? Where is the beauty? It’s an ugly world…so much of hatred, killings, war …all the misfortunes…. it is the idealism that leads us towards correcting all the wrongs.
I: Idealists try to find something that does not exist, something that cannot exist…idealists dream for a world that is impossible to built because by default we human beings have been fighting each other since the start of history and we will continue to do so ever. For me the ideal world is the existing world…the present is ideal because out of infinite possibilities this present has emerged. The world could have been anything…but no …the actions of nature and billion of other factors have contributed to the emergence of this present world.powerful forces have shaped it.this is ideal,,,see you are ideal…because nature has selected you to come into existence....the selection of nature is ideal..now you may want your height different or you may not be satisfied with any of your feature but for me whatever exists is ideal….is perfect.The color of your eyes is the color no one has…to have exactly the same color …no not possible
She: now does it mean nothing needs to be improved…..we just let ourselves resigned to what ever comes our way in the life……no ..I want to build my own world…make this world better. and I damn care if I possess the unique color of eyes or not. …it doesn’t matter to me ..what matters is what have I contributed to making this world a better place…..a place where every person has the opportunity to reach self actulization..to be in the ideal state of his or her being……….I cannot agree to your viewpoint.
I: we are constantly in a flux..everything is changing..the thoughts flowing in your mind are having an impact on all the surroundings…..right here..in the city beside river Indus……our talk will have an impact on tomorrow, something will be changed….may be for better ….but still there will be idealists always running for better………exhausting themselves in the persuit of perfection...and missing the momemts that are no less ideal…..like this evening……under the clear blue sky..amidst…roses…., take a deep breath and you will inhale all the freshness…..as I am doing……….and the air I breath comes after touching roses, river and you..and makes my soul dance..this is ideal for me..my eyes are attuned to beauty……
She: hey…..you call me idealist……infact you are idealist……..only looking at what you want to look at……..but that’s a very unrealistic and limited way of looking at things.
I: yeah you may call me an ideal realist.
She: or a real idealist..
I: well I just want to see your pursuing dreams while appreciating what is best around you
She: I know that…………looking at me
I: (smiling) your eyes………really ideal
We laughed and departed. :

It is love, Idiot.

Why do you want her to tell you in inverted comas that she loves you. Why do you want her to bare her emotions? Why do you want her to admit explicitly her falling in love? Is this not enough for you to see that her eyes shine when she sees you? Is this not enough that her voice trembles while speaking to you? Is this not enough that she is happy in your company and sad when she is away? Do you know you are showing that you are not confident that anyone could love you? Girls go indirectly in expressing their love, their admiration and their liking especially at the initial stage of the love. When the drop of rain falls one does not look up to confirm for clouds. It is love, Idiot.

Why are they called Indians?

Why are natives of America called Indians? She asked me. I asked her in return, "You tell me why are they called Indians? What do you think? She replied " I think,may be because they......I dont know that's why I am asking you." I smiled and told her...ok...Now listen..
In 1453 Ottoman Turks captured Constantinople (modern day Istanbul) from the Byzantines. The capture of Constantinople blocked the land rout between Europe and India and Eurpoeans started thinking seriously to find the sea route to India so that they did not have to deal with hostile Turks.
Christopher Columbus was convinced that by sailing towards west the route to India could be found. Convinced by this theory King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella of Spain sponsored the voyage of Columbus to discover the sea rout to India. In 1492 Columbus sailed out for India from Spain in the western direction. After a journey of 29 days he found an Island and thought he had discovered India. The people there were called Indians by Columbus and since then the name has been stuck on the indigenous people of Americas.
She was delighted to hear this..why don't you write it down? she asked.
"Fine, I will write a post about it on my blog." I answered.

Life

The experience of living ,just living,need no efforts. When I say no effrots I mean even if we do not put our efforts to live we will continue to live till we encounter death. Live a purposeful life or just drift aimlessly you will end in a naught. In the long run who cares what happened to the lives of billions who are living today. Do we care what happened to billions of unnamed, unrecognized homo sapiens who persihed before us. In the long run everyone's life has no meaning. We are myopic creatures who think ourselves as the centre of the universe. Laughable Predisposition.
Lte's look at the life of an ant. The tiny ant may be thinking that it is making the life of fellow ants better through its efforts. That ant has just been crushed under the foot of a teenage boy while he was runnig just for running. Has anyone noticed........? "The Ant" is gone. We are no more important than these tiny ants in the larger scheme of the universe. Shooooooooooooooooo,and we are finished. The stars keep moving. Not a moment for them to mourn for us, they even dont know about us, how would they care, sum is zero.....result is nothingness. Life is a meaningless experiment of mind of a creature on the tiny ball call earth that is travelling towards emptiness. Life is a joke.....take it lightly!!!!

Two nights.....60 years apart

Last night I felt immense peace and calm as if everything was in harmony. While lying on my bed my thoughts took me away in the past and I imagined the night of September 1947 when my father, at that time 23 year old, was crossing into Pakistan from India at the time of partition in the train that was attacked many a times during its travel from Delhi. At that time what mattererd most was the survival. The passing of each moment safely was an achievement. The covering of each yard of the distance from Pakistan was a feat. It was the night of doubts, anxiety, fear and apprehension. Time passed......a night in 2006....his son now a grown up man, felt peace and calm around him.....and missed his father who passed away couple of years ago....and thought about his struggle and his love at the same time and said to him in simple words " I owe to you this night of peace and calm."

Choice!!

She (through sms)= Thanks 4 luving me.
Me(reply)=It's my choice.

teray janay kay baad.../after your departure

kuchh dair tahar jatay..
yun na chalay jatay..
hum bhi sanbhal jatay..
jo tum ruk jaatay...

yun na dhoop parti
yun na piyas barhti
yun na aansoo bahtay
yun na paaun jaltay

waqt nay sikha diya hai
ab jhooti hansi hansna
jo saibaan nahin hai
khud sar pay haath rakhna

yeh safar-e-zindagi hai
manzar badal raha hai
hum bhi badal gai hain
har shakhs badal raha hai

---------------------

had you stayed more
had you not gone like this
we would have prevailed
If you had stayed..

there would have been no such scorching sun rays
no such increasing thirst
no such flooding of tears
no such burning of feet

now we have learnt
how to pretend to be happy
if there is no shelter
how to cover head with our hands

this is the journey of life
every scene is changing
we have also changed
as every person is changing

The dream journey!!

The moonless sky glittering with stars, I and you crossing the desert in land cruiser, full blown music, you wearing blue jeans and white T shirt, your hair all over your shoulders, your eyes sleepy and I looking into them time to time ...and then we stopping and camping in the open sky....in the morning we will resume our journey towards east. You know I love to see that old fort of Jaisalmer so you accompanying me to my dream journey. O Karachi girl!!! I love you.

My love for Spanish

Hola!!!
In the beginning let me make it very clear that " I don't know Spanish" but this is also true that I want to learn Spanish. Why Spanish? The love for Spanish or to be exact for Spain started during my school days when I read the poetry of Allama Iqbal glorifying the Moorish rule of Spain. The name of the cities Gharnata (Granada) and Qartba (Cordova) represented splendor and grandeur. During the same time Pakistan Television telecasted a serial " Shaheen" based on the novel of Nasim Hijazi. The story was based on the downfall of last Moorish ruler of Spain. The names of Badr bin Mugheera and Rabeea, the hero and heroine of the novel, still resonate my ears.
My first attempt to learn Spanish was during these same school days. I bought a small book Spanish Urdu Bol Chal, sort of a Spanish phrase book with no grammar, not of any use. Time kept passing and I kept building my knowledge about Spain and its history. The life of Abdur Rehman (Ad Dakhil) is one of the great stories of history that tells us how an uprooted prince of Damascus (Umayyad Dynasty) re-established the rule of Umayyad in Spain. I also learnt about Hasham the most pious ruler of Umayyad in Spain. The friendship between Abbasid Caliph Haroon Rasheed and Spanish ruler Charlemagne is also an interesting chapter of Spanish history.
As far as learning language was concern I had little success. In 1999 through Internet I started learning Spanish again. It was an interesting start. I joined Spanish language channels in MIRC (Bolivia, Mexico, Peru, Chile etc). On these channels I used to write hi and the answer I got was hola...so I learnt hola means hello. This was the beginning. Next I got was " de donde eres". I absolutely had no idea what it was. So opened the web site alt vista and used it translation facility by writing the sentence in the window and clicking translate " Spanish to English"...what I got was " from where you are"...so it means de donde eres. I wanted to ask if the chatter is male or female so I wrote m/f?? the answer came m. I thought the chatter was male but in fact it was female because I later discovered mujer is female and hombre is male. So in Spanish it is m/h? to ask for gender. Through these chatting sessions I learnt more words and sentences. Eprendiendo espanol...I am learning Spanish. Muchu Gusto...(Nice to meet you) Igualmente (same here) and blah blah blah. I also made friendship with a girl from Bolivia and I tried to write in Spanish by taking help from alta vista web site. My adventure in learning Spanish was limited on net and no one to speak to me so it didn't go much longer. Now here I know little bit of Spanish but of course I cannot claim that I know Spanish. I haven't given it up. I will one day learn Spanish and read Spanish literature without translation. The books of García Márquez will be among the first ones. Adios.