A quote

It is both a blessing and a curse to feel everything so very deeply. ~ David Jones

On "Being Disrespectful"

The moment you get disrespectful to people, you become irrelevant to them.

On 'Taste Buds'

I was once told by a dietician that it takes 3 weeks for taste buds to develop any specific taste alike tea without sugar!

The Missing Goat

 It all started one lazy Sunday afternoon in a small town near Toronto in Canada.

Two school-going friends had a crazy idea. They rounded up three goats from the neighborhood and painted the number 1, 2 and 4 on their sides. That night they let the goats loose inside their school building. The next morning, when the authorities entered the school, they could smell something was wrong. They soon saw goat droppings on the stairs and near the entrance and realized that some goats had entered the building. A search was immediately launched and very soon, the three goats were found.

But the authorities were worried, where was goat No. 3? They spent the rest of the day looking for goat No.3. Gradually there was panic and frustration. The school declared classes off for the students for the rest of the day. The teachers, helpers, guards, canteen staffs, boys were all busy looking for the goat No. 3, which, of course, was never found. Simply because it did not exist.

Those among us who in spite of having a good life are always feeling a "lack of fulfilment" are actually looking for the elusive, missing, non-existent goat No.3.

Stop worrying about goat No.3.

On "One Nightmare"

(us ne mujh se poocha)

"Kiya tumhare saath kabhi aesa huwa hai ke - tumhari aankh is baat se khul gai ho - ke tumhari saans miloN bhagne ke baad ki tarah phooli ho, dil ki dharkan 200 fi minute ho aur ulcer ki takleef apni shiddat se urooj pe ho - aur ye aehsaas ho ke - tumhari mohabbat kisi aur ki aagosh main bethi hai"

Gareebi Hispatal

Ye barsoN pehle ka qissa hai, shayed ab bhi wahan aese hi hota hoga

Pakistan main 'house Job' khatam kerne ke baad main ne aik 'private hospital' main sham ki naukri ker li. Hospital Karachi ke mehnge ilaqe Clifton main tha.

Hospital ki peechli taraf, shuru main Western/American tarz pe aik 'Public bathroom' banane ka irada tha jis ki construction ke baad, use istimaal kerne ka irada tark ker diya gaya tha.

Har Jumme ki shaam main notice kerta ke, andoorne-Sindh se bus bhar ke log aate - wahan aik chota sa 'hispatal' lagta (Baad main pata laga woh Gareebi Hispatal ke naam se mashoor ho gaya hai). Wahan 2 din un logon ka chota mota ilaj hota aur itwaar ki shaam bus wapas chal deti. Choti moti 'dispensary' type ka ilaj to theek tha magar us waqt mera matha thanka jab pata laga wahan 'cataract', I n D, D n C, appendix, sutures aur 'tubal ligation' etc. ka bhi kaam hota hai! 

Main ne hospital ke owner se zikar kiya to us ne mujeh bataya - bus yun samjho un logon pe ilaqe ki 'party' aur police ka haat hai! hum kuch nahi ker sakte. 

Aik din main 'Gareebi Hispatal' ke andar chala gaya - ab muamla ajeeb ulaT tha- Safaai suthraii bhi achhi thi - 'dispensary', pharmacy aur hone wale operation - aese hi safaii se hote the - jo kisi aur hospital main hote hain. Ye sare kaam kerne wale doctor nahi bulke dusre hispataloN ke compounder, OT technicians ya midwives hoti thin. Allah jhoot na bulwaye: ye sab apna kaam doctoroN jesi maharat se hi ker rahe the.

Main baRa satpataya 

Usi hospital ka aik technician nazar aaya to main ne use rok ke poocha - ye kiya maajra hai?  

Us ne mujh se kaha: "Doctor sahab! jo kaam aap log 2000 rupe main kerte hain, hum 200 rupe main ker dete hain, Dawaian aur supplies sarkari hospital se aa jaati hain - bus ji sab ka bhala ho raha hai"

"Magar ye to galat hai" - Main ne kaha

Us ne gusse se mujeh kaha: "Aap ko kiya lagta hai? sarkari hospitals main doctors ke naam pe unke ye saare kaam kaun kerta hai? - hum tecnicians hi kerte hain -  aap logoN ne gareeb aadmi ke liye is mulk main koi kasar choRi hi nahi. Hukumat ko awam se dilchaspi nahi. Private hospitals ko gareeboN se nahi - Sahab! jo chal raha hai , chalne dain, Aap to sirf paise kamate hain, hum paise bhi kama rahe hain aur gareeboN ki duain bhi"

BarsoN baad bhi mujeh  pata nahi - ke - gurbat ke saaye main woh kaam theek tha - ya galat? 

Shayed zindagi yunhi 'gray zones' main chala kerti hai !!! 

Bazgasht

Insaan ki zindagi main aane waale kuch waqiaat ki bazgasht is qadar shadeed aur ameeq (strong and profound) hoti hai ke us ki dhamak (vibration) - aane wale waqiye se bohat pehle hi insaan ko apne hisaar main le leti hain. 

Urdu ke chand intahaii khubsurat jumloN main se aik Shafiqur-Rehman ne likha tha ke: "Agar yahi hona tha to mere dil ki wirani ne mujeh pehle hi se kiun na bata diya".

Jamni Rang ka Phool

(Whenever I get the chance, I ask elderly people lessons they learned in life 

- ke is kaainaat ki sab se baRi kitab insaan khud hai)

"Main aur meri biwi saari zindagi choti choti baat pe laRte rahe. Choti choti laRaion ne diloN main woh shigaf daal diye ke bas rishte ki aik boseeda deewar hi reh gai. Aur phir aik din aesa huwa ke woh aik dum se mar gai. Us din mujeh apne rishte ka shiddat se aehsaas hua. Jin bachhon ke sath main ne biwi se bachne ke liye har lamha guzara, ab woh apni zindagioN main masroof the. Arizona ke 'red mountains' ki agosh main main ne biwi ki aik khubsurat qabar banwaa di. Uske jaane ke baad baar baar ye baat chubhti rahi ke sabar aur durguzar ko kiya huwa tha? Shayed mian biwi ke rishte main aik baar "power rope" chal paRe to mushkil se hi khencha taani khatam hoti hai. 

Arizona ke 'Native Indians' kehte hain 'Hum sab hawa main uRti khaak se ziyada kuch nahi'. Main jab pehli baar apni biwi ki qabar pe fatihaa paRhne gaya to pakki qabar ke sarahne aik ghere jaamni (dark purple) rang ka phool, gaz bhar lambi akeli shakh ke bilkul ooper khil aaya tha. Waqt mile to kisi din maloom kerna ke is ka kiya matlab hota hai*. Mere baRe bhai kehte the: ' Jeeta woh nahi jo aage nikal gaya bulke woh jo ziyada der TheRa raha'. RishtoN main bhi bus aese hi hai. Jo darguzar ker gaya, TheR gaya - woh jeet gaya. Barson pehle is zameen pe aik daana shaks guzra tha jo kehta tha: 

sab kahan kuch lala-o-gul mein numayan ho gain
khak mein kiya suratein hongi, ke pinhan ho gain'


* Purple flower means: to tell your loved one that he or she is still the King or Queen of your heart.

Old Age and Perdes

"I think we killed our father. My father was one heck of a happy man in Pakistan. He was in a plumbing and gas contractor company all his life. He enjoyed his naukri with colleagues he worked with. Besides co-workers, he had one best friend all his life with whom he shared everything.

First, my brother moved to Canada, followed by my sister and me. We sponsored our parents. My father never wanted to leave Pakistan, but at our mother's and our insistence, he gave up. But mentally, he never left Pakistan. He was destroyed by losing his work and his only friend. Over time Papa became more and more somnolent. He can be quiet without a single word for hours. He didn't want to do anything. We tried to get him to involved in dawats, parties, and community events, but he would not talk to any person sitting next to him, even as a courtesy. In the beginning, it was tolerable as he enjoyed grandkids, but as kids got more involved in their lives, he lost all interest in life as he had nothing to look forward to each morning. He stopped going to my brother's or sister's place. In the beginning, he enjoyed News from back home, but they didn't do any good as most News were depressing. He became more and more homebound in the severe, harsh cold weather of Canada, and his diabetes went out of control. His arthritis starts acting up. He started getting angry at himself since his body was not functioning well. He starts popping more and more pills.

We thought of sending him back to Pakistan, but if he goes to Pakistan, the mother also has to go with him, but she wanted to live here with her kids and grandkids. Also, we always lived in a rental place in Pakistan. We lived on the 4th floor, and last year when we visited, Papa couldn't even climb those stairs. He firmly believed that he came to this state of health because he came to Canada and became home-bound. If he had stayed in Pakistan, he would have been fine. When we went to Pak, only one person met with him - his only friend. Papa was extremely sad that day when his friend left. I considered leaving Papa back in Pakistan, but it was logistically impossible. Coming back, he was a stranger fellow.

One day he got a mini-stroke. He was prescribed a walker by his physical therapist, but he wasn't ready to use his walker though he continues to have attacks of vertigo. It was a massive blow to his ego as all his life, he was never dependent on anything and was never seen as a weak man. We thought he might listen to another man, so we asked my brother to 'talk' with him, but he didn't listen to my brother, and my brother doesn't have that much patience to talk with him over and over for the same reason. He lost his mind when Papa gave rough answers. Mom and I have been so stressed keeping an eye on each of his movements, ke abhi gire abhi gire.

On that day, we had a big argument with Papa. He, in return, decided that he would not eat his lunch. He fell due to hypoglycemic shock and died.

*

Sufi

"Babaji! Asli sufi ki asal pehchaan kiya hai"
"Beta! Asli Sufi woh hota hai jo apna asal chupa ke chalta hai"

"Aik hi Shaks tha Jahan main kiya" / On "Jaun Aelia"

Jaun Aelia sahab (here )se meri aqedadat is liye nahi - kiunke woh bare shayer the - kiunke baRe shayer to aur bhi bohat the. Magar Jaun sahab ne shayeri ko zindagi samjh ke nibahaya. Jo guzaara wahi likha. Kai bare shayer hain, jin se meri mohabbat bohat waliahana hai magar ye bhi sach hai ke - un shayeron ko jahan moqa mila unhoN ne dunyawi zindagi ke maze bhi khub loote..... Kiya Iqbal, kiya Josh, kiya Faiz, Kiya Faraz ... ye sab lafzoN ke jadugar the - magar inhon ne apni shayeri aur duniyadaari ke beech aik lakeer hamesah qaim rakhi - magar urdu shayeri main bohat thoRe naam hain jinhon ne zindagi ki pan-chakki main lamha lamha peeste shayeri ki - un main do baRe naam -Sagar Siddqui aur Jaun Elia hain (yaqeenan aur bhi honge). Jaun Sahab is liye mumtaz hain - kiun ke shayeri ke ilawa, taarikh aur waqiyaat per jo un ki "read" thi - woh "distinct" thi - Aur unki shayeri aesi ke - khud bhi rote hain, aur hume bhi bilak bilak ke rulate hain. Un ka aik shyr to mujhe peechle 2 hafte se aese "haunt" ker raha hai ke bayan se bahir hai. 

یہ مجھے چین کیوں نہیں پڑتا

ایک ہی شخص تھا جہان میں کیا

Poori nazam neeche video per hai, magar kuch aur  ashaar yun hain

عمر گزرے گی امتحان میں کیا
داغ ہی دیں گے مجھ کو دان میں کیا

مری ہر بات بے اثر ہی رہی
نَقص ہے کچھ مرے بیان میں کیا

مجھ کو تو کوئی ٹوکتا بھی نہیں
یہی ہوتا ہے خاندان میں کیا

خود کو دنیا سے مختلف جانا
آگیا تھا مرے گمان میں کیا

ہے نسیمِ بہار گرد آلود
خاک اڑتی ہے اس مکان میں کیا

یوں جو تکتا ہے آسمان کو تُو
کوئی رہتا ہے آسمان میں کیا

On "One Night Stand"

(One of my friend texted me this on Sunday morning)

After a one night stand last night, now I know that feeling of being used.

An Interesting Quote

“She said, 'I'm so afraid.' And I said, 'why?,' and she said, 'Because I'm so profoundly happy, Dr. Rasul. Happiness like this is frightening.' I asked her why and she said, 'They only let you be this happy if they're preparing to take something from you.”

― Khaled Hosseini, The Kite Runner

On "Lowest Point in Marriage - and Cheating"

(Posted as quoted)

"I remained married for 40 years before my wife died of cervical cancer. Before she died, she confessed to me her cheating in marriage. She was shocked to know that I was aware of it! Cheating happens in marriages when they are at their lowest points. In my opinion, all marriages get at least one lowest point. It usually occurs between the tenth to the fourteenth years of marriage. Our twelfth year of marriage was very stressful. I had a very sick mother at home. We were raising three school-going children. I was busting my butt at work. There was a complete breakdown of communication. We were living a parallel life. In those days, there was no Facebook, but she accidentally met her high school sweetheart, which ignited the flame. It was a perfect storm! She was an excellent mother, and she took care of my mother as an angel.

Interestingly, I never got angry. Somehow I was able to rationalize it. It sounds and feels mind-boggling now, but it didn't touch me. I am not sure how long that fling lasted, but the episode passed as kids became auto-pilot, my mother died, business got secure, and we could re-connect.

I stay married for so long that after a specific time, it would not have mattered to me anyway- and I am sure it does not matter to most who stay in the marriage for that long. I never lost respect as my wife raised three great respectful kids and, beyond everything, took care of my bed-bound sick mother for so many years. Cheating looks like a minion compared to other issues we were going through in life. I sometimes feel guilty that I failed to understand her extreme emotional exhaustion as she had to seek support elsewhere.

Marriage is a bizarre relationship of accepting and forgiving matters which outsiders can't comprehend".

*

Next generation literature

Last couple of weeks, I had to interact with young teenagers. They were absolutely smart kids. As I vented against time wasting "online games", they asked me to see following video clip on concept of "Faith". After watching the clip, I am convinced that - next generation intellect, literature and form of education would be way different and revolutionary than what we imagine, alike printing press previously. Watch yourself - (preferably with caption) and decide yourself.

Call me a new convert!!!!

 

Gar Mujeh Is ka YaqeeN ho

It is questionably attributed to Chekhov that: "Any Idiot Can Face a Crisis; It’s This Day-To-Day Living That Wears You Out!" Like any other human, I have my those days and certainly many of my friends around. Years ago, I used to find solace in Faiz's following poem - and then life went on another path - but today after years I felt like listening again - talking to myself! - talking to my those friends!

Gar mujhey iska yaqeeN ho, mere humdum, mere dost
gar mujhey iska yaqeeN ho, ke tere dil ki thakan
teri ankhooN ki udasi, tere seeney ki jalan
meri dil_jooi, mere pyar se mit jaey gee
gar mera harf-e-tasalli voh dava ho,
jis se ji uThey phir tera ujd.ra hoa bai_noor dimag
teri paishanee se dhul jaiN yeh tazleel ke daagh
teri beemar javani ko shifa ho jaey

gar mujhey iska yaqeeN ho, mere humdum mere dost

 roz-o-shab, shaam-o-sehar, maiN tujhey bhelata rahoon
maiN tujhey geet sunata rahoon, halkey sheereen
 absharoon ke, baharoon ke, chaman_zarooN ke geet
amad-e-subh ke, mehtaab ke, sayyarooN ke geet
tujh se maiN husn-o-mohabbat ki hikayaat kahooN

 Kaisey maghroor haseenaooN ke barfaab se jism
garm hathoon ki hararat se pighal jatey haiN
 Kaisey ik chehrey ke Thaihrey hoey manoos naqoosh
dekhtey dekhtey yaklakht badal jatey haiN
kis tarah aariz-e-mehboob ka shafaf bilor
yakbayak baada-e-ahmer se dehak jata hai
 kaisey gulcheen ke liye jhuktee hai Khud shaaKh-e-gulaab
 Kis tarah raat ka aiwaan mehak jata hai

 yoonhee gata rahoon, gata rahooN,
teri Khatir geet bunta rahooN, baiTha rahoo, tere Khatir

par mere geet tere dukh ka madava hi nahi
naghma jarrah nahi, moonis-o-gum_Khuwar sahi
geet nashtar to nahi, marham-e-azar sahi
tere azar ka charaa nahi nashtar ke siva
aur yeh safaak maseeha mere qabzey main nahi
 is jahaN ke kisi zee_rooh ke qabzey maiN nahi

Haan magar tere sewwa tere seewa tere seewa

Wrong Number

Someone emailed me following ultra-short story, after reading our previous musing on it here (with request to keep it anonymous

"Wrong number", Said a familiar voice.

Line of Oldhood

Aadmi zindagi ki tamam tar tawanii ke saath chalta rehta hai, bulke doRta rehta hai
 - aur phir aik dam se ek din ehsaas hota hai ke umar ki aik lakeer aai thi jab

umar kab ki baras ke sufed ho gai

Perdes

(This blog is more of a portal of people living away from their land of origin)

Following is a piece of conversation, I thoroughly enjoyed - and speak a lot of brain drain from third world countries. One of my class fellow recently received a letter confirming his full professorship in Medicine in one of the top ivy league university. I called him to congratulate.

"Yaar! bohat bohat mubarak ho! Duniya ki sab se bari university main full professorship of Medicine - woh bhi itni young age main. I am really proud of you".

Us ne zor ka qehqaha lagaya aur jawab diya:

"Bhai! main to yahan sirf roti kamane aaya tha! magar in haramioN ne kisi aur hi raaste pe laga diya"!!

L'Esprit de l'Escalier / Moazzam Sheikh

If you ask me to pick 3 top writers of South Asian origin in North America: I will put in descending order: Rohinton Mistry, Jhumpa Lahiri and Moazzam Sheikh.

Unfortunately, Moazzam sahab remained interested in teaching and translation, and never went beyond short stories. He has been mentioned as Woody Allen of South Asian genre but I feel he is more like a Saadat Hasan Manto of second generation Desi-Americans. I wish someday he writes proper full blown novel.

He carries a sharpness of dagger in his sentences and usually at the end of the story leave a lot to readers' imaginations. Let me write one line from his short story "Invisible Strands" - "..he couldn't like a nation (germany) that lost 2 wars in a row..".

But his story "L'Esprit de l'Escalier" is so far the best work I read. It is a story of a young man who is left emotionally weak due to abusive father and possessive mother. It is a story of a kid who cannot establish assertive relationship due to psychological traumas. Let me-write lines from story that may convey the depth of his writing:

"...Regardless of what mother said about you, you being a dirty old man, a skirt chaser, a wife-beater, a son-beater, I knew there was another you buried in you, half dead, half alive, and I kept searching for that half-alive you, in you, but you tried your best to not bring him along. You hobbled without a shadow. I knew you were going crazy, suffering from some kind of chemical imbalance that most men in this world suffer from. And do you remember ? You liked to put on your father's ties you had saved for so long ? You liked them so much. You told me I could have them when I grew up. But I didn't want those ties. You cursed mother out of habit and chemical imbalance. I wanted to break the cycle. Although I don't have your ties, I am not so sure I have been able to break the cycle. Partially, I have become like you, incapable of being happy, and partially like mother, unable to pull myself out of depression, unable to stop eating  and eating, bloating, drawing a blank."


(Related post: A quote)


* L'esprit de l'escalier is a French term for the predicament of thinking of the perfect reply too late.