Maqsood ki Imandari

Agar aap ye blog parhte rahe hain to aap ko andaaza hoga ke meri nau-umri aur nau-jawani ke din Karachi main guzre. Main pehli dafa Rawalpindi/Islamabad gaya to meri umer 24 baras thi. Mujhe Abbu aur Amma ke liya Canadian Immigration ke kuch papers jama kerwane the. Abbu ne kaha, Karachi ke halaat ki badolat behtar yahi hoga ke tum haat ke haat jama kerwa aao. Hamare mohalle ka aik lurka Murad Ali Rawalpindi main naukri kerta tha. Chandni Chowk ke qareeb usi ke makan pe therne ke plan bana. Chalte huwe abbu ne koi 5000 rupe alag se mere hawale kiye ke agar zaroorat par jaaye. Main ne woh paise patloon main daal liye.

Main aur mera cousin nazeer ba-kheriat Murad Ali ke makan pe paunch gaye. Murad Ali ka aik aur room-mate tha - Maqsood. Maqsood ka kamra kafi bara tha. Main aur Nazeer usi ke kamre main ther gaye. Main ne raat kupre badalte huwe patloon se 5000 rupe nikale aur sink par rakh ke bhool gaya. Subha hui to Murad Ali aur Maqsood to kaam pe chale gaye. Mujhe 5000 rupe nahi mile to Maqsood pe shaq guzra. Main ammi abbu ke immigration papers jama kerwane Islamabad chala gaya magar poora din dil hi dil main kurhta raha. Nazeer jazbati aadmi tha, is liye usse zikar nahi kiya ke Allah jaane kiya afat dhaye. Hum Islamabad se jald hi laut aaaye. Murad Ali aur Maqsood sham 6 baje kaam se wapas aaye to Maqsood ne pehla kaam ye kiya ke almari se 5000 rupe nikal ker mere hawale kiye aur kaha tumhari amanat sambhal lo. Mujhe apne aap per bari sharam aai aur usse bhi ziyada sharam us waqt aayi jab Maqsood ki kahani suni:

“Maqsood ke waldain 1947 main bihar se hijrat ker ke East Pakistan aaye. Jub 1971 main Bangladesh bana to Maqsood ke khandan ke saath bhi wahi huwa jo wahan har Bihari khandan ke saath huwa. Maqsood ke walid ko Mukti-bahini waloN ne goli maar di aur ghar walon ke saamne bari bahen ki izzat lut li. Us ne ‘talao’ (lake) main chalang laga ke khud-kushi ker li. BalwaiyoN ne baqi khandan ko saari zindani ye gum sehne ke liye zinda chor diya. Maqsood ki amma baqi 4 bachhoN ko le ker muhajir camp main mehsoor ho gai. Wahan se girte parte 2/3 baras baad woh Karachi paunche aur ‘Orangi town’ main thikana kiya. Maqsood ki amma ne kisi local factory main naukri ker ker ke 4 bachhoN ko bara kiya. Maqsood ne B.Com kiya to Amma ko naukri churwa di aur ab 3 behnoN aur Amma ka kafeel tha. Jo kamata tha woh guzare aur behnoN ke jahez ke liye jama ho jata tha”

Maqsood chahta to asani se mere 5000 rupe harap ker sakta tha, magar in halaat main bhi usne imandari ka daman nahi chora.Ye meri zindagi ke sirf woh 6 din the jo main ne Maqsood ke saath guzare magar har cheez main who hisab se apne paise pehle aage barha deta. Mujhe nahi maalom Maqsood ab kahan hai magar imandari ka jo sabaq woh mujhe parah giya, saari zindagi nahi bhulta. Ab bhi jab dostoN main “soldier system” ke hisab se paise nikalne ka waqt aata hai to meri koshish hoti hai ke sab se pehle apna hissa de dun – shayed mere andar bhi Maqsood ki imandari ki aik choti si ramaq jag utthe !

Aik Shair

A thought provoking shair of Abdul Hameed Adam.

"Khuda kee zaroorat naheen Adam mujh ko
abhee to mein koee insaan dhoond'ta hoon."

On Obama's win

As written by Adnan:

"I do have to say, the Americans have impressed me. This is the same country that let Bush be president for two terms, and clearly elected him for one (the second) term. And despite the smear campaign run by the Republicans, they still elected Obama.
Muslim. Arab. Pals around with terrorists. Socialist. Marxist.
And still, they elected him. Thank you for showing politicians that smear campaigns are awful, and they should not work."

Read very intelligent full post here

Salim Kausar

One of my all time favourite ghazal from Salim Kausar

People's Disease

Being a physician, one lesson I learned : "People's disease is a very private thing and it should not be brought for discussion unless and as appropriate needed. People get hurt !"


Azam koi dus baras mera class fellow reha ! Pehli se dasweeN jamat tuk hum aik hi class main rahe. Azam ko shuru se hi darde-shikam (Abdominal pain) ka problem tha. Diarrhea kubhi itna shadeed hota ke dinoN school se gaib rehta. Aksar class main use vomitting ho jaati. Aksar khabar aati Azam hospital main hai. Kai baar hum use uski amma ke saath clinic ya sarkari hospital se aata dekhte. NaweeN aur DasweeN main Azam mere saath tha. Bohut dosti rahi. Phir main aage chala gaya. Azam kisi aur college chala gaya. BarsoN beet gaye.

Jub main ne residency khatam ki to state license ke liye mujhe kuch papers attest kerwane school jana para. Azam ab bhi school ke aas paas usi makan main rehta tha. Junhi main school se nikla woh aik dam se saamne aa gaya. Ab bhi yunhi dubla patla jism tha. Lagta tha bimari ne uski jaan nahi chori thi. Jub salam dua khatam hui to mujhe kuch samjh nahi aaya ke kiya baat karun. Main ne be-khayali main poocha: "Ab tumhari bimari kesi hai ?" Us ke chehre pe aik rang aaya aur guzar gaya. Usne gol mol sa jawab de diya, magar meri baat se use jo takleef hui woh saaf ayaN thi.

Aaj bhi uska chehra yad aata hai to dil main nadamat aur aik kasak si uthti hai !

Phantom of Pleurae

"Human lung is covered with 2 layers, visceral pleura and parietal pleura. Inflammation between these pleurae cause pain and difficulty in breathing".

Jub main residency ker raha tha to hamare aik Korean pulmonologist the. Bare Allah wale aadmi the. Aik din unhon ne hum se kaha: "Human relationships are like 2 pleurae together. If they develop friction and inflammation but have no choice but to live together - causes severe pain with every breath. And let me tell you its not easy. Sometime there is no apparent reason for pleural inflammation. All workup remains negative. Kind of idiopathic.. But pain remains there - severe pain with each breath. Manytime human relationship turns into what I call Phantom of Pleurae".

Human Touch, Women and Business

Mere aik dur ke chachha the. Hum unhe Shaban Chachha kehte the. Wese intihai be-zarr se aadmi the magar Allah jhut na bulwaye, thore se sust (lazy) bhi the. Saari zindagi idhar udhar choti moti naukrian kerte rahe. Aur agar kubhi karobar main haat daala bhi to woh unki sustravi aur ziyada sote rehne ki adat ki badolt beth gaya…

Akhri baar unho ne ‘North Nazimabad’ ke ilaqe main aik choti si bakery kholi. Main jub kubhi us ilaqe se guzarta to abba ki nasihat ke baais unki bakery pe salam kerne ruk jaata. Ab ki baar bhi karobar ka wahi haal tha aur who phir bakery band kerne ka soch rahe the. Pore din main bakery ba-mushkil koi 40-50 rupe ki ‘bikri’ (sale) kerti.

Koi 6/8 mahine baad amma ne bataya ke Shaban chachha ki bakery khub chal pari hai. Mujhe bari hairat hui. Ab ki baar unki bakery gaya to customers ka aik jame gafir tha. Faraq sirf itna tha ke ab bakery chalane mein Gulshan chahhi ne unki help kerna shuru kar di thi. Main ne Shaban Chahha se poocha: “aakhir aesa kiya majra huwa ke bakery aik dum se yun chal pari?”

Chachha ne jawab diya: “Tum to jaante ho ke ye saara residential area hai. Ziyada tar gharelu log ya khawateen hi hamari customers hain. Tumhari gulshan chachhi ne logon ki dukh dard ki kahani sunna shuru kar di (I knew her from before; she is a very good listener). Customers ko is bakery se cheezon ke saath dukh dard ka madava bhi milna shuru ho gaya. Phir who aros paros ke logon ke liye kubhi ghar se pakore to kubhi gulab jaman paka ke laane lagi. Dusri taraf Bakery ki bhi halat durust ki. In sab ke baais peechele 8 mahine main tumhe ye sun ker hairat hogi ke meri roz ki sale 5000 rupe ho gayi hai aur bare dinoN pe to ye 9/10 hazar tuk ho jaati hai”.

Kiya ye sach hoga ke: Women due to their ability to create 'human touch’ are better salespeople than men?

Confabulation

Few days ago, while I was traveling in an airplane, I noticed my co-passenger had a traveling magazine which I didn’t have in front pocket of my seat. I asked to have it for few minutes as I am always intrigued with natural lakes of USA. I looked at the relevant article but instead of giving back, I put magazine in my front pocket without realizing that it was not airlines’ but his magazine. He asked for his magazine back and I embarrassedly returned it.

Bachpun main bhi aksar aesa huwa ke, main ne zid pakar li ke ye khilona ya flaN flaN kitab meri hai. Amma ne ya bhai ne samjhaya tub kahin samjh aaya ke ye meri cheez nahi.

Zindagi main bohat si cheezon ke baare main hame ye aehtmal rehta hai ke woh cheez hamari hai magar ziyada tur cheezain bus kuch der ke liye hi hamare paas mustaa’r (on lease) hoti hain. Is aehsas ko – jis main ke ye tameez kerna mushkil ho jaaye – ke kaunsi cheez hamari hai aur kaunsi nahi – ya jis main ‘reality’ aur ‘fantasy’ – khalat malat ho jaaye- ko confabulation kehte hain.

Confabulation is defined as the confusion of imagination with memory.

Khalil Jibran apni kitab “The Prophet” main likhta hai ke asal main aulad bhi hamari nahi hoti. Hamare bachhe hamare nahi, waqt ke bachhe hote hain.

Abhi kuch hi dinon pehle main ne Nazeer Akbarabadi pe aik post likhi thi. Zaalim kiya sach likh gaya hai:

Sab thaT para reh jaawe ga jub laad chalega banjara

A quote

"A man could lose all his decency faster than any other thing he possessed: money, health, love"

(From Moazzam Sheikh's short story 'Monsoon Rains', when central character Masud walked to his naukrani basti in pouring rain whom he used as sex slave).

Kaifi Aazmi

What a ghazal from Kaifi Aazmi !

Woh bhi sarahney lagey, arbaab e fun kay baad
Daad e sukhan mili mujhey, tarkay sukhan kay baad

Deewana'waar chaand say aagey nikal gaye
Thehera na dil kahiN bhi, teri anjuman kay baad

HontoN ko see kay dekhiye, puchtaiiye ga aap
Hungamey jaag uThte haiN, aksar ghutan kay baad

Ghurbat ki thandi chaa'oN meiN, yaad aayi uski dhoop
Qadr e watan hui humeiN, tark e watan kay baad

Elaan e haq meiN khatra e daaro rasan to hai
Lekin sawaal yeh hai kay, daaro rasan kay baad?

Human emotions - healed or numbed?

A cross-posting of a paragraph from Aisha's recent post. It tells a lot about humans reactions to overwhelming emotions

"A group across from me drink cocktails engaged in casual conversation. Politics, I think until I hear them. A meeting of those with missing family. One lady with a page boy cut and blue jeans talks about her father. He went to Nepal and never returned. The other, a son in Iraq. "Do you think we'll ever know what happened?" Ms. Page asks as she takes a sip. A lady with coke bottle glasses shrugs as she looks at her nails. I'm amazed by how neutral they seem. They could be discussing the weather for all the emotion revealed. Maybe time heals? Maybe it numbs".

You may read whole post here

Father

Interesting Ad. (thanks to karrvakarela for tip)

Nazeer Akbarabadi

Nazeer Akbarabadi was an unique urdu poet. In 18th century era, when everybody was writing difficult classic urdu, mostly 'ishq related' ghazals, Nazeer wrote for and in simple common man language. In that time period, poetry in small 'bahar' (like of Mir Taqi Mir) were valued but Nazeer wrote in long 'bahar'. First time when I read his "sab thath para reh jawe ga, jub laaad chale ga bangera" in 10th grade, I loved his 'laffazi'. Ye woh umer hoti hai jub lafzon ka khel dil ko bohat bhata hai. Than, there was a point, I thought - what a big deal writing in such long lines? But when I gained more sense of world (did I?), I realized that his "laffazi" and long "bahar" make sense, as it send a strong message of core meaning. I doubt, he ever wanted to be famous. It is said that, 98% of his work was never found.

For any literature/writer/poetry we all go through 3 phases 1) enjoying its obvious flavour 2) criticizing it 3) understanding its core and value

A quote on life

"sometimes there is no such thing as right decision, we have to do what we got to do, as long we accept the responsiblities of the choices and stand by them...it always works"

(From a single working mother of two teenagers)

Mani ki Kahani

(I am cross-posting few parts from Baraka's recent post with permission. She left me speechless for many minutes in front of computer screen).

"...........Before my cousin Mani committed suicide in May, he was homeless for one period, in jail for another. He was the last person you’d expect either of, with two masters’ degrees from reputable Bay Area universities, a job at Sony, and a devoted wife and adoring son - all the stuff that is supposed to signal success and protect you from becoming one of the unwashed crazies on the street. But when his first mania struck at the age of 32, within weeks he had lost everything. As his mind boiled with fantasies and conspiracies, he spent his savings, lost his job and apartment, and then left his family, reputation, and sense of self-worth behind, never to be recovered. Two years later at the age of 34, after great suffering and consistently refusing to accept his condition or seek treatment, he shot himself in the head while his sick and aging parents slept in the next room............

I locked his memory away without allowing myself to grieve in May, too busy tending to a houseful of distraught women, including his wife, and to a frantic child, his son. Five months later it is still too painful to imagine his agony and isolation before he died, believing that we didn’t love him, that we were all against him. I still have all of his e-mails and the replies I sent him, unbearably harsh now in retrospect, because I didn’t understand that it was the disease speaking for him............His tragic death - and my role in contributing to it - showed me how serious a medical condition bipolar is; how imperative psychotherapy, medications and empathy are; and how deadly the consequences of not informing ourselves of the lethality of the disease proved to be. Lithium is as necessary as prayer.

For the first time since May, I find myself mentioning Mani in detail, here, and to her, because I hope that by speaking of his death, she - and others - might live.........I hope that he knows that I love him. But my mind recoils imagining that he does not know, and at someday having to answer his now five-year-old son when he asks me how and why his father was killed."


Read full post The Slippery Slope

Related previous post: Saving a person

The Professor

As commented for previous post - cross post from Uncle Saugoree blog

"He was not a university type professor but he was master of Ulum-e-Nujoom wa Qiyafah. He knew my chief and many other chiefs he knew as he had "tiched" them and had a testimonial from all big shots of Pakistan some professors, some High court Judges or Lawyers and such well-known officials and politicians (Pakistan and India- I am talking about 1958 experience).

One day he proceeded to demonstrate his "powers". He gave us a slate on which we wrote something after we had gone into other room and came back to him and to our surprise he was able to write it down exactly what we had written. So what is this "tiching". He would catch hold of a finger, mostly little finger just for a moment and then will tell you about what will happen to the person. This process was called by him as, "tich kerna". I was tiched also (no charge) and most of what he said turned out to be true such as when I would go out (of country) hwereas at that time I had not thought of leaving Pakistan".

Read full post here

Kala Jaadu - Syed Ali aur Zubi - 2

Syed Ali aur Zubi ka jo qissa pehle likh gaya hun (here), usi ke parton main ye aik ajeeb saniha hai.

Jesa ke main ne likha tha ke Syed Ali aur Zubi ki shadi ke liye shart ye lag gai ke pehle Syed Ali ki bahen ki shadi ho, jo ke ho ker hi nahi deti thi. Zubi ke andar jalti aag aahista aahista jalan aur phir adawat main tabdeel ho gai. Gurbat, Mohabbat aur dhalti umer ne mil ker 'frustration' itni barha di ke Zubi ne taaweez, gandon, babon, sadqon bulke kaale jadoo tuk ka sahara lena shuru ker diya.

Aik din Zubi ki ma use Karachi ke ilaqe 'teen hatti' pe kisi aamil ke paas le gai jis ne shaadi kerwane ki 'gaaranti' le li. Kuch ajeeb ajeeb amal bataye aur kaha; ye amal parh ke har raat Syed Ali ki bahen ki tasweer pe phoonkh do, tumhara kaam ho jaaye ga. Zubi ko ab in 'totkon' pe koi khas yaqeen to nahi raha tha magar ye soch ker ke kiya jata hai, amal ker diya.

Koi do teen mahine baad ye khabar aai ke Syed Ali ki bahen "Yarqan" (Hepatitis A) ki waba main faut ho gai. Maut bhi aesi ki jism ke har hisse se khun band hi nahi hota tha (coagulopathy due to liver failure).

Jub Zubi ne pehli baar mujhe ye qissa sunaya to rote rote uski hichki bandh gai. Mujh se kehne lagi, maiN ne kubhi aesa nahi chaha tha. Poochne lagi qayamat ke roz mera kiya hoga? Ab is zindagi main is nadani se ho jaane wale gunah ka kaffara kese ada karun? MaiN khud gunahgar.........siwaye tifal tassaliyon ke kiya jawab deta?

Allah hum sab ko is 'shar' (evil) se bachaye!

MaiN jub Amma se milne Canada jata hun aur raat ke peechle pahar, Amma ye samjh ker ke maiN so raha hun, mujh per 'surah falaq' parh ker phoonkti hain aur sir pe haat pehrti hain to pehle mujhe khub hasi aati thi magar ab nahi aati - bulke achha lagta hai !

(Below is a forward from regular mails I get)

Achhi Aulad

Main internet per Eid ke programmes 'browse' ker raha tha ke Pakistani comedian Umer Shariff ka show dekhne beth gaya. Usme usne aik bari achhi baat kahi:

"Duniya main is se bara sadqae jaariya (continuous charity) koi nahi ke aap aik achhi aulad chor jaayain"

A quote

I think, following quote best describe parents and kids relationship. (anybody knows author?)

"To the world you might be one person,
but to one person you just might be the world".

Tumhe mere Allah ne bheja hai

(written on Eid day)


Zaroori to nahi ke Zindagi main insaan ko har kisi ki baat ka yaqeen aa jaaye magar phir bhi aksar kuch baatain dil main reh jaati hai.

Pakistan ki aik trip ke dauraN mujhe ye khayal aaya ke aaj bus se safar kerna chahiye. Karachi main ‘prince cinema’ se zara aage ‘tibet center’ ka bus stop hai. Jumme ka din tha aur dophar ka waqt huwa hoga. Main bus ke intazar main khara ho gaya magar bus thi ke aakar hi nahi deti thi. Mere sabar ka paimana labrez huwa aur main ne aas paas nazar doraii to aik khali rikshaw khara nazar aaya magar us khali rickshaw ka driver nazar nahi aaya. Main ne wahan khare aik shaks se poocha: ‘is rickshaw ka driver kahan hai?’ to usne door khare aik bachhe ko awaz di: ‘Munne jao chacha se kaho, sawari aai hai’. Munna saamne dukan pe bethe aik chache ko bula laya. Chache ne mujh se kaha: ‘Aap to kub se wahan bus stop pe khare the, kiya irada badal diya?’. Mai ne jawab diya: ‘Bus chacha! Dhoop se behaal ho raha hun’. Chacha ji ke chehre pe aik muskurahat aai aur bole:

“Mere Allah hi ne tumhare dil main ye khayal dala ke aaj bus ka safar karo, phir tumhe dhoop se behaal kiya aur mere rickshaw ke paas bheja. Aaj mera kaam kafi thandda tha aur main soch raha tha ke – aaj ka kharch kese poora hoga? Kiya mujhe aaj phir mithaii wale ka aata goondhna pare ga? Magar mere Allah ne tumhe mera rizq bana ker bhej diya. Tumhe mere Allah ne bheja hai”

Mujhe unki baat ka yaqeen to na aaya magar main ne sir hila diya. Chachaji to bari asani se eeqan ki rassi thame apni mushkil se guzar rahe hain. Sochta hun, bure waqt main hum jese munkir, iman ki woh taqat kahan se laayain ge !!

Peechle eid ki posts: Bhoot and Eid in west