Protected: What lies beneath the Hijab…

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The Real Pakistanis

I went to my dad’s hospital today which is located in Kharadar. I saw crowds of sick people, wailing children, harassed mothers, miserable humanity. A little girl came for check up, PCM Grade 3. Her father earns Rs. 100 per day. How can her parents afford to feed her nutritious food specially with essential food prices climbing higher everyday? How can she even buy medicines to be able to get well?

You think this is a hospital, people on the streets are probably better off. But they’re not. The smoke, noise and pollution was enough to give me a headache in the few hours I spent there. And these people live there…

This is the oh-so-famous common man. For him day to day survival is a struggle. These are also our fellow countrymen, our brothers and sisters. Why then do we not relate to them? All Pakistanis don’t live in Defence. They live in dirty, narrow cobbled streets where sunshine is scanty and infections plentiful, where mosquitos hover and stench pervades and garbage is strewn everywhere. While we eat our KFC and Mcdonalds our brothers and sisters die of slow starvation.

Just look past the invisible barrier at Clifton Bridge and see. All Pakistanis are not as blessed as we. While we go to schools and colleges, little kids are busy in hard manual labour and household chores. They are hungry, malnourished and unhappy. What dreams can they have for the future? A full stomach, a single day of safety and love, when mommy and daddy aren’t tensed and distressed? Will the starving man not steal? Will he not grab every morsel that comes his way, whatever the consequences.

This is not a common man. He is a Pakistani, an individual, a human being. And thus he deserves every opportunity that every other person gets. A right to education, clean drinking water and sanitation. And above all hope. Hope that working hard will yield results. Hope that a lack of “source” will not prevent his getting a job. Hope that not having a prestigious English-medium education will not effect his chances in life.

Skeletons forced to remain alive.

How can you step into life with an open, honest happy heart knowing that there will be no justice? And that you’ll be supressed by inequality and discrimination and a pervasive feeling of hatred?

Politicians - promises that will never come true. Purposes self satisfying. Full wallets, empty hearts. A vision that is meant to deceive. Selfishness and greed.

What I am unable to understand is the lack of love. Why do we not want our brothers and sisters to prosper? Their progress will not reduce our own. Why not help them and bring them on the same level as yourself? If a man has fallen down, will you not help him up? Or would you rather crush him as you go?

Inhuman cruelty.

Pakistan doesn’t need corporate successes. We don’t need flashy ads, mobile phones, McDonalds and KFC. The need of the day is quality education for all children. A better economy. Justice and social equality. And above all empathy.

The little girl’s eyes were large and sparkling. And somehow she was still able to smile. An endearingly shy smile that slowly widened to reveal missing teeth. Lets do something to keep that smile ever blooming…

Virus Attack!

My computer is sick. Infact it’s on it’s deathbed. And i can’t find no medicine.

M. Samad Hassan messaged me on msn, “Hey check out my new jeans”. Obviously I had to check ‘em out. As soon as I clicked on the picture, my PC got blasted. It now runs an infinite loop of “Syntax Error” windows every time I turn it on. Some times all I am greeted with is an ugly blue screen thats eeirely blank. Sigh.

I miss writing.

Last night I was having an episode of insomnia. I was itching to write but bereft of my computer there wasn’t much I could do. Now I just can’t seem to put pen to paper. Mobile messaging is the more expensive alternative I chose

I am in IBA right now. I need to pin down these racing thoughts or they’ll run away from me. Round and round they fly like a merry-go round. Or the wheels of a topsy turvy car that aren’t running in unison.

But the distractions are too many.

I can’t get the juices flowing. IBA lab is no place for introspection.

My PC had just gotten ok last week. I had not connected it to a stablizer with the result that the power supply got burnt. Literally. I woke to the sounds of blasts emitting from my CPU. Smoke was arising in ugly spirals.

Just like the spirals of my confused mind.

Allah Ta’ala cloaks our sins when He could’ve exposed them to the world. He knows, conceals and protects. Where we could’ve faced ridicule and disgust, He gives us admiration and love. We think of all that we DO NOT possess instead of appreciating what we do.

A story narrated by Kamran,

This is a tale of two men. One of them had the treasures of the world and yet he would always thank Allah. And thus Allah would increase his blessings.

The other lived on the streets. He had no clothes, just a leaf to hide his private parts. Some one told him, “Thank Allah for his infinite gifts.” The man retorted, “What do I have to be thnakful about?!”. At that instance, a gust of wind blew away the only leaf he had.

we all have, if nothing else atleast life. And as long as there is life hope exists. For tomorrow is another day. Maybe things will get better tomorrow.

Lets thank Allah for all that we have today.

Suhani Raat Dhal Chuki

This is an incredibly beautiful song. It transports you into another word, one of love and longing. But sans pain

He spends the night waiting for his beloved. Nature awaits her with him. But now the stars are fading away, the winds have changed direction. Will she not come before dawn?

Movie Name: Dulari (1949)
Singer: Mohd Rafi
Music Director: Naushad
Lyrics: Shakeel Badayuni

Suhani Raat Dhal Chuki Na Jaane Tum Kab Aaoge
Jahan Ki Rut Badal Chuki Na Jaane Tum Kab Aaoge

Nazaare Apni Mastiyaan Dikha Dikha Ke Kho Gaye
Sitaare Apni Roshni Luta Luta Ke So Gaye
Har Ek Shamma Jal Chuki
Na Jaane Tum Kab Aaoge

Tadap Rahe Hain Hum Yahan Tumhare Intezaar Mein
Khiza Ka Rang Aa Chala Hai Mausam-E-Bahar Mein
Havaa Bhi Rukh Badal Chuki
Na Jaane Tum Kab Aaoge

You can listen to it by clicking on the following link:

www.youtube.com/watch?v=o8vnQrhJoac

Protected: Long winter nights…

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Mughal-e-Azam by Dr. Irshad Sethi

My earliest memories are those of waking up to the melody of old ghazals. My father is a connoisseur of the arts - writing, music and drama - and he inclucated this love in his children. Mughal-e-Azam is one of his favourite films and arguably the best Indian classical love story every made. He has spent his life researching the making of this movie and the events unfolding in the lives of his idols - actors Dilip Kumar and Madhubala and the director K. Asif during it’s making. I typed this article for him and am attaching it here for your perusal…

A labour of Love - Mughal-e-Azam

Saints and Sinners

From Abba’s pal, Dr. Habib Undre

“Every saint has a past and every sinner has a future”.

Agreed. But what ever their past or future, give ‘em a chance in the present. Don’t be judgemental and don’t pry. Becuase if a person knows that his past will always catch up with him, he will never reform.

And after all it is for Allah to judge, not us.

“Tum zameen walon par reham karo, aasman wala tum par reham karega”

I think it’s a hadith but I am not sure :s

Ab ke hum bichre…

I found a withered rose in one of my books. It’s fragrance was still alive. It evoked forgotten memories that now make me smile.

One of my favourite ghazals, beautifully rendered by Mehdi Hassan…

Ab ke hum bichRe to shaayad kabhi khwaaboN meiN mileiN
Jis tarah sookhe huye phool kitaaboN meiN mileiN

dhoonDe uJde huye logon meiN wafa ke moti
ye khazane tuJhe mumkin hai kharaboN meiN mileiN

tu khuda hai na mera ishq faristoN jaisa
dono insaaN haiN to kyoon itne hijaaboN meiN mileiN

gham-e-duniya bhi gham-e-yaar meiN shaamil kar lo
nashaa badh-ta hai sharaabein jo sharaabon meiN mileiN

Aaj hum dar peh kheenche gay jin baaton par
Kya ajab kal woh zamaane ko nisaabon meiN mileiN

ab na wo meiN hooN, na tu hai, na wo maazi hai faraz
jaise do saaye tamaana ke saraabON meiN mileiN

- Ahmed Faraz

Che Guevara Revisited

I was just having a a hot, steaming shower and something about the Me-time got me thinking…

As I grow older I am understanding Samar Irshad Sethi better… who she is and what her dreams are. And I find that her dreams are not worth attaining.

Who was I kidding with, “I want to make these greedy multinationals good corporate citizens?”. In my heart of hearts I just want to be part of the establishment - have a comfortable job and make lots of money. If making a difference to the world means losing my comforts, the world can go to hell. Not a pretty picture? Thats who I have become.

When I was 6, all I wanted to do was draw. I used to fill pages upon pages with my dresses, my dolls, my perceptions of my favourite storybook characters. I drew Elizabeth Bennet, Jo March, Maggie Tuliver. Come 8th grade and I was coached - give up your art, it’s too time consuming and you can never make a living outa it. Concentrate on your studies.

I participated in an art competition whose topic was “My world in the year 2000″. All the other girls were copying pictures but I used my imagination. I showed a dark world with filth, flies and fecus and another dimension of the same world that was bright and beautiful, where education and healthcare was free for all, where little children had love and security and where dreams came true…My teacher accepted my painting and it was to be sent in later in the day. Shortly after as I walked the school grounds, I saw my painting lying in a trash can. I decided to disprove my teacher and worked harder than ever. I turned to pencil work and calligraphy. But my art started conflicting with my studies and under pressure I gave it up in matric.

Later at 17, all I wanted to do was write. Writing to me was like breathing, it came naturally to me I would’ve loved to have made English Literature or Journalism my career. But again I was coached, you can’t make writing your bread and butter, you need to have a stable career not just something you enjoy doing. Let writing be just a hobby.

And I came to IBA.

Now I realize that just having a good career was never my aim. I wanted to discover and polish the talents God gave me for only then I could be truly useful to the world. If every man does just what he was created to do, the world will be a much happier place.

Not to say that I am not happy at IBA but these subjects are just not ME. I wanted philosphy and art, writing and religion, not just how to maximize your profits and minimize your costs. A teacher of mine recently had the audacity to say “Bringing about change in your organization could make your employees committ suicide. This is one of the emotional disadvantages of change”. Talk about cruel.

But I am part of this blood-sucking system now. Our generation is the sort that wears Che Guevara T-shirts without knowing who he is. He just looks cool and rebellious. Our elders fully support our capitalism perhaps because they have seen that ideals yield nothing. Broken dreams, shattered promises.

But again, it doesn’t have to be that way.

Why not show the world that doing your own thing today CAN yield to a better, brighter tommorrow?

But I do not have the courage. I look at my designer hand bags all lined up and I think, can I give all this up to step into a world where the future is hazy? Where risk is certain but profits are not?

No. If my name is to pop up on the 2nd P & G list, I would be delighted. I would feel prestigious. Even if I am just selling soaps.

Maybe if the corporate world rejects me, I’ll have no choice but to do my own thing Perhaps that is what Allah has planned for me.

And the future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams.

The Desire to Sell Soaps

I have this unyielding desire to sell soaps. And for that matter shampoos. And not just any soap and shampoo. It has to be either P & G or Unilever.

Lifebuoy, anyone? Nawww

But hey wait, isn’t lifebuoy Unilever too?

At the end of the day lifebuoy or lux are all soaps after all. Why then do I desire to sell something so inane? What kind of freaking society is this that finds selling soaps glamourous? Why is it prestigious to work in a blue chip company and immature to “do your own thing”?

[Rant and rave because P &G didn't accept you. If they did, you would've sold soaps for the rest of your life happily ever after]

Speaking on a serious note, I think that providing society quality products that it needs at low prices is a noble service. Look at hindustan Lever in India, what services they have rendered for the villages. Actually thats what i would have LOVED to have done. Make these greedy multinationals good corporate citizens of the world. And precisely thats why I chose External Relations at P & G because I wanted to work on their wonderful programs - building schools in Muzaffarabad for the earthquake victims, the READ foundations and donations of medical equipment for neonates.

Sadly, it didn’t work out.

InshAllah, God has other plans for me.