Meeting the King

A Persian king asked Saadi of Shiraz:

‘On your wandering through the cities of my kingdom, do you think of me and of my works?’

‘Your majesty, I think of you whenever I forget to think of God,’ was the wise man’s answer.

© Paulo Coelho

The Perfect Woman

Nasrudin was talking to a friend, who asked him:

‘Have you never considered getting married, Mullah?’

‘I have,’ replied Nasrudin. ‘In my youth, I resolved to find the perfect woman. I crossed the desert and reached Damascus, and I met a lovely, very spiritual woman, but she knew nothing of the world. I continued my journey and went to Isfahan; there I met a woman who knew both spiritual and the material world, but she wasn’t pretty. Then I decided to go to Cairo, where I dined in the house of a beautiful woman, who was both religious and a connoisseur of material reality.’

‘Why didn’t you marry her, then?’

‘Alas, my friend, she was looking for the perfect man.’

© Paulo Coelho

Pakistan was created in 1947. Israel was created in 1948. Both are ideological states. Both are home to extremist elements. In Israel they are known as Zion. In Pakistan they are called Mullah/Militant/Taliban – or their sympathizer and supporter that exist not just in caves but like Zion in every field of life.

Zia said:

Pakistan is like Israel; an ideological state. Take out Judaism from Israel and it will collapse like a house of cards. Take Islam out of Pakistan and make it a secular state; it would collapse. For the past four years we have been trying to bring Islamic values to this country.

General Zia-ul-Haq (1916-1988), Chief Marshal Law Administrator, Pakistan 1981

Zia for me and our future generations is nothing more than a monster of sort for nurturing the Frankenstein that’s been turned against us. This Frankenstein devours our blood daily yet its thirst seems unquenchable.

IF in all your naivety you believe that Pakistan has nothing to do with Israel or that they are die hard enemies; you may consider changing your view after reading the report called: Beyond the veil: Israel-Pakistan Relations. It has been written by a Hindu for a think tank based in Tel Aviv and I first came across it in The News (Pakistan’s daily) in 2005. It is available online in the PDF format.

This report chronicles all the hidden – in diplomatic jargon – backdoor diplomatic channels between the two ideological states.

So Israel is basically yet another tool for our politicians to run their business and fire up things when needed. After all in their view, Israel wants to eliminate Pakistan because this under-developed, terrorist infested, poor country of 160 million people is a great threat to Israel.

No one realizes we are our worst enemies; the others just take full advantage of that!

People sleep walk and I am sure I sleep write. I have said this on a number of occasions that for some reason when at night the lights are off my mind wanders in the alleys that lead me to creativity. Ninety percent of my fiction pieces have been written that way. For that reason a drafting pad always stays on my side table because such lyrical themes and thoughts are fleeting and I don’t remember a bit when I wake up the next morning. I attribute my mind’s better functionality to the serenity and calmness that prevails at night.

I have a bitter-sweet relationship with night. I like it since it precedes the day – the day that usually cheers me up unless it is marred with some bad news. I don’t like it since my mind becomes quite active so much so that it pushes me into uneasiness.

So I discovered a note cramped under my pillow. It read:

Sometimes I miss you the way

Oasis dwellers miss the rains

My nights are shrouded in strangeness because I miss people at that time. I can write better, plan better and even the oldest and remotest things rain on my mind until drowsiness steals over me. I don’t remember when and how I wrote the above mentioned note. I do miss certain someone but the astonishing thing is that I don’t remember jotting down these lines. That truly makes me feel that I sleep write. I am sure I do.

On the morning of 8th October, 2005 the 7.6 magnitude earthquake had rocked Pakistan. Soon after, Fatima Bhutto left the comfort of her Karachi mansion and visited the affected areas. She visited the hospital in Islamabad, where children were being treated mentally and physically. She spoke with them, spent time with them and then compiled a book about the valor and resilience of those survivors who had lost their entire families.

I wish, I too could write such tales but all I know is that the entire Peshawar wears deserted look – the look of mourning – these days, markets are shut and even fresh fruits and vegetables are scarce in our area. The battered victims are being treated – still many are serious and amid all that chaos several people are in search of their loved ones who have gone missing since the blast. They shuttle between the hospitals, morgues and the blast site but there is no word of their loved ones. Many are left with the last bits of cell phone conversations that they had had with their relatives now haunt them day and night.

The fact is that their loved ones might have been blown to pieces that the rescue workers have been collecting in sacks and burying loads of them without the possibility of conduction DNA test ever.

That is a sheer tragedy!

I came to know of certain stories that are tragic, poignant and heart-rending.

The father of our neighbor’s friend

He had a shop in that market. Somehow he survived and was helping others when one of the buildings collapsed. He buried alive under the debris and lost his life.

Salah-ud-Din’s grief

His elder married brother would sell artificial jewelry on the cart. That fateful day his younger brother, the student of 7th standard, too accompanied him since he was home due to the closure of schools. Both of them died on the spot. When their other brother, Salah-ud-Din saw the dead bodies he lost his senses. He jumped into the canal saying he can still see his brothers and they are alive.

Young electrician from Karachi

A young electrician who used to work in Karachi was on leave. He was shopping for his wedding in the market when the bomb struck and he lost his life.

There are too many other stories of tragedy where the children lost their parents and especially mothers, sisters their brothers and parents lost their kids. But it is difficult to pen them down. The more you listen or read such tales, the more you feel being plunged into an abyss of darkness and hopelessness. All we can do is to pray in such trying times.

Every time the bomb goes off
I feel being blown into smithereens
Look! A piece of my charred flesh sizzling on the charcoal road
Brother, be careful, you’ve stepped on a brownish mass
That’s slowly palpitating counting its last beats
That used to be a heart once
Full of life and zest
There you rescue worker
Collect my severed leg and keep the shoe for
My dear ones to recognize
The fingers flew everywhere… some are burnt and crushed
Some rotting in the drain close by;
Some are picked up by the investigators
Take a close look that’s NOT how suicide bombers hellish fingers would look like
Clutching the necklace, that had to be bought after a brief bargain
The melted eyes mixed with dirt, blood and smoke
Used to weave dreams are blind
I see, still, I can see
Myself in pieces, scattered all over
The good thing, however, is that now there is no pain

We Pakistanis are fortunate enough to have a person of Abdul Sattar Edhi’s stature among us; who has been constantly involved in the humanitarian efforts over the last so many decades. I had written The Real Humanitarian in 2006 when Muhammad Youns of Grameen Bank had won the Noble Peace Prize. At that moment I thought how come a Nobel Peace Prize committee ignored the struggle and activities of someone like Edhi. Recently, Edhi won the United Nations prize for his efforts. Edhi in my view, deserves Nobel Peace Prize too so let’s make our voices heard.

The Real Humanitarian

In fifty-nine years Pakistan has produced just one Nobel laureate Dr. Abdul Salam. The younger generation of Pakistan knows very little about this prominent scientist who won the Nobel Prize in Physics in 1979 for his work in electroweak theory. Unfortunately due to his religious beliefs he didn’t get due recognition from the government in Pakistan.

People often think is there any other Pakistani who could win a Nobel Prize for his genuine efforts in the scientific field, literature or peace? There is certainly one humble personality the more one analyzes his efforts and achievements spanning over five decades the more he seems to be a strong contender for Nobel Peace Prize. Always clad in a simple gray shalwar kameez, black cap and chappal he is none other than the Pakistan’s most loved and respected philanthropist, Abdul Sattar Edhi.

Born in Bantva, a small village of an Indian state of Gujarat to Memon parents, Edhi was taught to be kind and compassionate towards the needy people since his childhood. In 1947 the Edhi family migrated to Karachi. At the age of fifteen Edhi got financially independent as he started off his own small business. Soon after that he got associated with Bantva Memon Dispensary in Karachi. That was the time when he officially started social work. Following some administrative disputes with the other members of Bantva Memon Dispensary, Edhi parted his ways with this organization.

In 1951, he set up his own dispensary at Mithadar that would provide medical assistance and medicines to the poor. Edhi gained popularity among the masses during the 1957 flu epidemic in Karachi. It was during that time that he bought his first ambulance called “Poor Man’s Van”. Later on in 1974 he established the Edhi Foundation. Today Edhi Foundation owns a fleet of almost 600 ambulances, 1 helicopter and 2 aircrafts hence making it the largest volunteer network of ambulances in the whole world.

Edhi Foundation has 3,500 workers and thousands of volunteers who work in over 300 centers all across Pakistan with daily expenditure of 1.2 million rupees. The Foundation runs 8 hospitals in Karachi, including clinics, maternity homes and blood banks. Edhi dispensaries are established all across Pakistan where people get free treatment. There are six nursing schools that provide basic training to the nurses and so far have produced 40,000 qualified nurses. The Foundation’s Apna Ghar, is a home to 50,000 destitute, runaways, orphans and mentally challenged people. Besides that the Foundation has also established shelters for women and Jhoolas for the unwanted infants. His Foundation works day in and day out to make the difference by providing health facilities, food, shelter and basic and vocational education; these are all the duties of a state but instead of looking up to someone he quietly does his work. Edhi Foundation swiftly responds at the time of natural calamity and other crisis. After the earthquake on 8th October 2005 the Edhi Foundation was among the first to reach the affected areas.

Edhi Foundation hasn’t limited its welfare activities to Pakistan only. The Edhi International Foundation has branches in 34 countries including UK, USA, Canada, Australia, Japan, Dubai and Bangladesh. The main task of UK and USA branch is to provide the facilities of temporary residence to the people hailing from the third world countries who come for a treatment to UK or USA. These branches provide assistance to refugees; maintain community centers and work for emergency relief such as after the 9-11 Edhi offered aid and assistance to the New York government and after Hurricane Katrina donated 100,000 dollars to relief efforts. The Foundation also sent relief items and established centers in the countries affected by Asian tsunami of 26th December 2004. Lately Edhi personally visited Lebanon during the Israel-Lebanon war and provided medical assistance and food to the people. Moreover he donated three ambulances to Lebanese government. After witnessing the gruesome scenes of death and destruction in Beirut he requested for immediate cease-fire.

In 1979 Mother Teresa was given the prestigious Nobel Prize for Peace. She, a Catholic Christian of Albanian origin dedicated all her life to the poor people of Calcutta and later on expanded her activities to the other cities of India. By awarding Nobel Peace Prize to Muhammad Yunus this year (2006), the Nobel Committee has certainly broadened its criteria for selection. Edhi has been given many national and international awards and honors in recognition of his services to the humanity such as the “Ramon Magsaysay Award” given to him in 1986 and “Lenin Peace Prize”, awarded in 1988 besides Pakistan’s highest civilian award, Nishan-i-Imtiaz in 1985. In 2000 the Italian government awarded him the ‘International Balzan Prize for Humanity Peace and Brotherhood’. And most recently he won the UN prize for his services in promoting tolerance and non-violence.

The time has come that the Nobel Committee should also consider Abdul Sattar Edhi and his Edhi Foundation for the Nobel Peace Prize. Edhi is one such personality who is selflessly serving the humanity in distress from many decades irrespective of their religion, caste or social status. His achievements speak volumes about his credibility. He is a simple man with no political affiliations and with a vision to bring peace into the lives of suffering humanity.

Everyone is prone to making mistakes. One’s greatness doesn’t lie in the non-committal of mistake but in seeking forgiveness soon upon realizing it. Mistakes are of two types. One, that directly break God’s rule and hence you go against His will. Second, that hurt feelings of those you are dealing with. Actually, almost every mistake involves both hurting people and breaking God’s law simultaneously. So this means one has to seek forgiveness of the person concerned and then of the God.

You know seeking forgiveness from a person is a tough thing. But forgiving someone is the toughest. How strangely we all are connected in the web of emotions! But things are different in the divine realm. God does forgive. Anyway, those were just random thoughts about committing mistakes and seeking forgiveness.

I had read Rumi’s poem quoted below, in a personal letter from Qudratullah Shahaab to Mumtaz Mufti, printed in Alakh Nagri. Mumtaz Mufti had hard time battling and curbing his temptations even at quite an old age. He knew he was running after mirages. Yes, who would expect a man close to 70 to be fallen for a woman in 20s and then roam the roads of Rawalpindi with her on the two-wheeler. I appreciate Mumtaz Mufti’s honesty. It takes loads of guts to admit the eccentricities of one’s nature. When he got sick, he wrote to Qudratullah and he somehow helped him out of that quagmire. Mumtaz Mufti admitted he loved confiding in him because he, unlike others, never admonished him. Perhaps that is why he took him to be a Sufi – a saint.

This poem basically says what we usually hear from elders is that the doors of divine forgiveness remain open so one shouldn’t give up hope that he/she wouldn’t be forgiven.

Come, come, whoever you are
Wonderer, worshipper, lover of leaving
It doesn’t matter
Ours is not a caravan of despair
Come, even if you have broken your vow
a thousand times
Come, yet again, come, come

He was staring in the eyes of destiny.

‘What are you ogling at? Why don’t you go ahead, work hard and break the barriers.’ Said the destiny.

‘What barriers?’ He yelled. ‘I can’t see any. Why don’t you provide me with opportunities that I am waiting for since long?’

‘Opportunities would come when you break the barriers, try once at least.’

‘I can’t. I did all I could. He snapped back.’

‘You can’t do… because you are coward don’t blame the destiny for your cowardice. If fortune favors the bold, destiny favors perseverance.’

What is your browser’s homepage? Mine is Yahoo… since ages because back then I would only use Yahoo Mail and would log onto Yahoo Chat so both were easily accessible from the main page . Now I don’t have any special reason of keeping it as my homepage. It is just that I am used to it, so can’t think of any other site.

Sometimes I can’t believe the way I used to frequent Yahoo chat rooms. That too was ages ago btw, really it’s been 9 years almost. Once, after a long time, I tried logging into chat and can you believe it I couldn’t figure how to navigate. I was lost, besides, all that Indo-Pak bashing and cussing made me sick.

So I was thinking how our tastes and interests change with time. How we shun certain forums and adopt other? I often wonder how would I take my blog after 4-5 years from now? I like consistency but sometimes one gets fed-up without any specific reason. I hope this place wouldn’t turn into a ghost site

I’m not a huge fan of shrines, however, I like visiting them whenever I get a chance. It was a few years ago, in Lahore, with a bunch of friends, I had visited some shrine that was located inside the narrow streets. Even at night the streets were flooded with lights, fragrance and were bustling with enthusiastic people.

My friends bought rose garlands, candles etc. I had left my handbag with my (other) friends who chose to stay in the bus, because I was told it isn’t safe taking handbags, wallets and other valuable items in there for pickpockets are more than active at such places; so one of the friends was generous enough to bought me candles too from the nearby shop.

We stepped inside the shrine – imagine I didn’t bother reading the board at the top of the entrance – perhaps since I was visiting any shrine after a long time and crowded places tend to put me off anyway. So the inside floor was marbled – people including women and children were sitting next to the walls. We offered Fateha at the grave(s). I peeped inside the window and saw the grave being inundated in the red/pink rose petals. I had never seen so many rose petals before.

The fragrance of the petals alone sent me into strange sort of trance – so I literally, jerked my head and moved on with eyes wide open. Then the girls lit the candles in one corner. That was such a black, filthy corner, where hundreds of candles were alight and the plethora of sticky wick looked creepy. Quite frankly, I didn’t understand the lighting of candles. Anyway, I roamed around for a while and then we got back to our bus.

The irony is that I’ve visited Lahore many times but never got a chance to visit Daata Darbar. So – I never bothered to discover for years as to which shrine I had visited that chilly December evening.

One day I was talking with a friend – our conversation floated and converge on the Sufism and shrines. I told her about my almost blind visit to some shrine in Lahore – she sent me the link – I checked the photo and viola – years later I finally found out that I had actually visited the shrine of Bibi Paak Daaman.

Today, weirdly, I’m missing both Bibi Paak Daaman’s shrine as well as that (ever mysterious & elusive) friend – no, not the one who took me there – but the one, who revealed the name of that shrine.