Interesting take!

Still not sure if I agree with this but find it thought-provoking. 

 

 

The judgement of a split second

 It was 2017. I was in London for a conference. As it was hard to find a cheap and decent hotel around the conference center, I stayed away from London in a smaller town named Burgess Hill and decided to take the bus - I explicitly remember bus # 523. It was summertime, so it was good to walk and enjoy the bus ride.

One eve., as I was on this side of the road, I saw bus #523 at the stop on the other side of the road. I thought I could jaywalk the main road and catch the bus. I had an old English man standing beside me. He said: "Don't Do! There is no way you can catch that bus". Knowing my skills of catching buses from Karachi, I asked, 'how you know?' He smiled in the classic English style and answered in an accent. "I know because when you live in an area for decades, you gain enough experience and the skill of judgment of a split second." 

For many days, I thought about his notion of the judgment of a split second. Indeed, when you get experience in any matter of life, what makes you superior to a novice is a split second, which makes the difference. The whole wisdom is about gaining that split of a second.

Why we want future

 

Fourth Wall

 Insaan zindagi main baRe drame kerta hai - aur jawani main kuch ziyada hi. 

When I was 19, I gave an audition at the Karachi Arts council for acting. To imitate India, Pakistani actors were getting serious about formal training in acting. To make a story short, I was selected (which I never pursue after a few classes). The first lecture was from actor Talat Hussain. On that day, I realized he is indeed an actor of high caliber with a depth of knowledge in literature and human emotions. On that day, he said a beautiful thing.

"Actor's biggest obstacle is the fourth wall. An actor on stage has three walls around him but there is an unseen wall between him and an audience. You need to learn to break that wall and connect with your audience. That's the only skill you might need all your life even if you are not an actor. You will need this everywhere. This skill of connecting with the soul and psyche of your audience to strike the cord is the essence of your success".

Ana'a

 

Patthar

 The following is considered the hallmark poem of Ahmad Nadeem Qasmi. Reportedly was written when a student at the National College of Arts, Lahore made his sculpture. The photo was taken at that moment and history and poem both were saved.

پتھر - احمد ندیم قاسمی

ریت سے بت نہ بنا اے مرے اچھے فن کار

ایک لمحے کو ٹھہر میں تجھے پتھر لا دوں

میں ترے سامنے انبار لگا دوں لیکن

کون سے رنگ کا پتھر ترے کام آئے گا

سرخ پتھر جسے دل کہتی ہے بے دل دنیا

یا وہ پتھرائی ہوئی آنکھ کا نیلا پتھر

جس میں صدیوں کے تحیر کے پڑے ہوں ڈورے

کیا تجھے روح کے پتھر کی ضرورت ہوگی

جس پہ حق بات بھی پتھر کی طرح گرتی ہے

اک وہ پتھر ہے جو کہلاتا ہے تہذیب سفید

اس کے مرمر میں سیہ خون جھلک جاتا ہے

ایک انصاف کا پتھر بھی تو ہوتا ہے مگر

ہاتھ میں تیشۂ زر ہو تو وہ ہاتھ آتا ہے

جتنے معیار ہیں اس دور کے سب پتھر ہیں

جتنی اقدار ہیں اس دور کی سب پتھر ہیں

سبزہ و گل بھی ہوا اور فضا بھی پتھر

میرا الہام ترا ذہن رسا بھی پتھر

اس زمانے میں تو ہر فن کا نشاں پتھر ہے

ہاتھ پتھر ہیں ترے میری زباں پتھر ہے

ریت سے بت نہ بنا اے مرے اچھے فن کار 

Paradox of history

As I was watching the USA's election in the doctor's lounge, one old-timer physician made an interesting comment: 

"It is interesting that in history, people have switched sides. In the Civil War, Republicans were in the North led by Abraham Lincoln and were anti-slavery. Pro-slavery conservative white democrats dominated the South. One hundred sixty years fast forward; the North is full of socialist democrats, and the South is red, more conservative states. Unfortunately, this is true throughout human history. Victims turned into aggressors; defenders became attackers; pacificists generated into warmongers; anti-this and pro that switched to anti-that and pro-this; and builders turned into destroyers or vice versa. Pick any nation, religion, or culture - you will see this phenomenon perpetually happening".

*

Kausar

 "Mubarak ho, beta ya beti?"

"Kausar" !!!

(I didn't know, Kausar means daughter too. And, it is used in the most loving term)

A quote

 

May 23

 One of my friends twice in a week make the same mistake with the subject line "May 23" on the Title slide while we were working out presentations for students for October 23 and November 23.

I asked: 'Why you are so obsessed with  May 23?'

He is from Chandigarh. We converse in Hindi. He said: 

"Yaar duniya main kuch taarikhain aesi hoti hain, dimag se chipak jaati hain.......I was in deep love with one girl back home in India. Unfortunately, it didn't work out. It's now 28 years but still whenever it's 23 my hand subconsciously type May 23. It was her birthday......... Yaar ye ishq aur lagao bari zalim cheezain hain. Lagta hai sab kuch bhool gaye, magar saath chipki rehti hain............I am a geriatrician. You know in senile dementia and Alzheimer's, people recall their past vividly. I deal with this phenomenon every day. Mere yaara it hurts".

Art of life

I enjoyed this quote very much. I think it is true. It all depends on how we find that line of passion in our everyday life.

 

One spanish folklore song

 I was 17 years old when I and one of my friend read two books by Mustansir Hussain Tarrar (aka chacha). One was "nikle teri talash main'" and other was "undalas main ajnabi". We literary planned to run away from home so we can go to Europe like he did. We went to Liaqat national library in Karachi, photocopied maps, drew our route, collected all details of the train route, and youth hostels along our route. We made our passports. This was the time when Iran and Turkey's borders were open for Europe. As it was bound to happen, someone came to know of our secret plan, reported to the family and it took another 25 years before I saw Europe in true sense! What took away our breath was chacha's flow of writing. It was mesmerizing. 

Salmon Run

 Salmon Run is one of the most intriguing phenomena of nature. I was first told about this by one of my patients, a professional fisherman in the pacific ocean. I didn't believe him. But when Google came, I learned he was right. Salmon can go as far as Japan but will return to spawn at her birthplace. She will spawn, become colorless, and act like a dead, so her eggs stay protected (big fishes don't come near/eat dead fish). 

Once her children leave for the river, she will die at her birthplace.

*

Aqlima

 I don't think anyone knows for sure but it is said that Aqlima was a sister of Habil and Qabil (Cain and Abel), and use to see fighting them from the mount. Fehmida Riaz described the agony of a woman in this beautiful poetry.

Note: Please see Saugoree uncle's comment in the comments below

Al-Nabi

 Here I am attaching the weblink of the Urdu translation of Khalil Jibran's famous book: "The prophet". This is one of the most read books in the world. I was 16 years old when I read this book. For months, I was in ecstasy and re-read its chapters again and again. This was a new world for me. Though over the years, I grew out of this book as harsh realities of life took a toll on childhood innocence. But this book is still very dear to me. There are other Urdu translations too, but I think this one has the best flow (By Habib Ashar Dehlvi).

http://www.mediafire.com/download/5t1y3y3r1d30zpb/Al-Nabi_-_Khalil_Jibran.pdf

(this is a download link, and will ask to get save on your computer. I have a copy. If you feel unsafe. Send me an email at zindagikidiary at yahoo. I will send you the copy).

Death - A ritual

 One of my close friends is in a home hospice due to metastatic colon cancer. Unfortunately, diagnosed too late. Despite COVID, I took a flight to go and see him. I was fortunate to spend some quality time with him (we were up till 4 AM for two days). There were many private talks, a lot of private messages for friends he is not in contact with. Together, we laughed browsing Facebook & Whatsapp memes, feel dejected on Pakistani physicians soulless politics, listened to Rafi Sahab songs, and searched girls we knew in college days. We drank a lot of chai made almost every couple of hours by his wife and puffed cigarettes.  

I realized the impending death of a known person is a powerful force for introspection. It makes you let go of many things, forgive many people, and look for forgiveness. He was happy to see me as we both were hard-headed at one point in our lives. We had arguments, and friendship has its ups and downs. When I was leaving, he said a beautiful thing with his usual smile; 

"Bhai, maut bhi aik rasm hi hai jo har insaan ko bilakhir nibhani paRti hai". (Death is also a ritual every human has to go through)

The year 2020, on the bright side, bring a lot of humility for me. I guess it made me relatively more humble and a feel-blessed human being. The return flight was somber. The flight was empty. I didn't even read the book. I quietly sipped some cold water. I am glad I skipped the mindless presidential debate. 

Worst thing to teach children

 Yesterday I got a piece of very sensible advice:

"Apni aulad pe sab se ziyada zulm tum us waqt kerte ho jab unhe nafrat kerna sikhate ho"

(The worst thing you can do to your children is to teach them to hate)

Immigrants!

-- فلسطین سے تعلق رکھنے والی عربی زبان کی مشہور شاعرہ فدویٰ طوقان کی ڈائری کا ایک ورق ---

مشمولہ: "عربی ادب میں مطالعے"، تحقیق و ترجمہ: محمد کاظم، سنگِ میل پبلی کیشنز، لاہور

آہ بہار! جس کی سانسوں میں شباب کی لپٹ ہوتی ہے۔ میں اپنی رگوں میں زندگی کو سرایت کرتے ہوئے محسوس کرتی ہوں۔ میں ابھی مشوار سے واپس آئی ہوں۔ آسماں پر چودہویں کا چاند تھا اور ہوا میں ہزاروں خوشبوؤں کی مہک تھی۔

میں ابھی اپنی دوست "ا۔ ن" کو اس کے خط کا جواب دوں گی۔ اس کے خط ہمیشہ موت کے ذکر سے بوجھل ہوتے ہیں۔ میں اُسے اپنے سفرِ مشوار کے متعلق بتاؤں گی کہ میں وہاں کھڑے ہوئے کیسے سوچتی تھی کہ اپنے دونوں ہاتھوں میں اس کی مٹی بھر لوں اور اس کی ہوا میں اتنا سانس لوں کہ میری طبیعت سیر ہوجائے اور میں کیسے اس کی پہاڑیوں کو دیکھ کر خواہش کرتی تھی کہ کاش ان میں سے کسی کی چوٹی پر پہنچ کر میری زندگی ختم ہوجاتی۔ ایسی جگہ پر موت کتنی مرغوب ہوتی ہے جہاں قبر میں پڑے ہوئے انسان کے جسم سے جنگلی پھول اور بیلیں بھوٹ نکلیں۔ 

میرا دیس کیسا خوب صورت ہے! یہ کیوں کر ممکن ہے کہ میں اس کے سوا کسی اور زمین پر جان دوں۔ میرے پیارے مہاجر انسانو! یہ کتنا ستم ہے کہ انسان اپنی زمین سے دور کسی اور زمین پر اجنبی ب کر مرے!۔۔۔۔۔۔ صرف اپنے آباء و اجداد کی سرزمین میں انسان اپنے آپ کو پھلتا پھولتا ہوا محسوس کرتا ہے اور اپنے اردگرد پھیلی ہوئی زندگی میں اسے ہم آہنگی کا احساس ہوتا ہے۔ 

A web!

We all are connected in a web of grey zone. As Mir Taqi Mir  said 

 nāhaq ham majbūroñ par ye tohmat hai muḳhtārī kī 

 chāhte haiñ so aap kareñ haiñ ham ko abas badnām kiyā

 

A Unique thought

We pass our death anniversary every year without knowing the date!  ~ Anonymous