Life

Life is a game. Half done. Half Yet to Come.

Aafia Oh Aafia (a sisters call)

(a sisters call)

Aafia Oh Aafia.

We won’t be able to forgive ourselves,

For the wounds that were caused to you,

For the annihilation and agony you faced,

And for our stricken strengths, we stand disgraced.

Aafia Oh Aafia.

For some petty coins we sold you off,

Now trying our best to fake things off,

We regret we couldn’t stop your rape,

And for our stricken strengths, we stand disgraced.

Aafia Oh Aafia.

It was never a tradition,

We never sold our daughters or mothers,

I know not what malice we had,

Or the looming greed which made us gape,

For our stricken strengths, we stand disgraced.

A sisters call to prisoner Number 650,

I don’t want you to be in trouble. Any More

There is a purpose for you to still be Alive,

Let my brethren around the world know your case,

And liberate you from this disgrace.

Resilient still Unsung‘d

“I walked through the boulevard of time, back to the sententious days of my life I gradually strolled into my reminiscences. Variegated shirt with maroon pants completed my entity.”

My prestigious school had planned for an excursion to Lahore which they thought was the best way to bid us farewell. The lovely Minaret standing a lofty 203 ft. tall in the Iqbal Park was the last destination of our itinerary to be divulged.

I remember my geography teacher continually roaming around to converge the flock of students gathered around the monument. She yelled at the top of her voice as we gradually assembled together. The reason being that we were so much over whelmed not only by its magnanimous height and gargantuan structure but the fact that the challenges it must have posed not only to its rudimentary architectural designers but also to the labourers who translated such designs, converting and blending beauty coupled with structural stability that could withstand the tests of time.

Educating and refreshing our course books, she refurbished our minds with the memories of the early 1940’s when Our Quaid, Mohammad Ali Jinnahbhai consolidated the persisting Two Nation Theory, which was the brainchild of Late Allama Sir Muhammad Iqbal.

Fate foretold that Allama Iqbal would not live long enough to see the dream he had visualised for the People of his own Pure-land “PAKISTAN”,

But fate decreed that the garland of victory should fall squarely on the shoulders Quaide-e-Azam Mohamed Ali  Jinnah who was destined to be the Saviour of the Muslims who had been maltreated, humiliated, despised, ravished thus disgraced right from the onslaught of invaders till the last remnants of the East India Company despots.

Hence, as the currently articulated old phrase of “IT’S THE WRITING ON THE WALL” became a reality.  Meaning thereby that it was inevitable and high time that “PAKISTAN” had finally been assigned a Saviour by the ALLAH Almighty.

Jinnah, modeled a preamble, which would eventually form a first declared Islamic Republic. He clarified, that Pakistan was not just a name it was an ideology of a land free from vice, malice and discrimination. A land in which rule of law would prevail. He gave the pure people three visionary sharp swords to fight the wicked eventualities which he had foreseen.

The contingency plan that he had designed if people perhaps succumb to destabilizing factors of the Pristine Pure Land he had so visualized.

He gave the infant Nation, the sword of UNITY to fight the DISORDER; he presented a sword of FAITH to prevent any UNCERTAINITY and a third sword of DISCIPLINE among the pure men so that the pure land would not be shattered, into pieces.

Numerous thoughts pounced, rummaging through my mind of what on earth had made this minaret stand tall and high, why did the vagaries of Nature not take its toll and how and why the architectural structure stood bold defying the tests of time. Time a limitation which eventually, effaces even the best of best diminishing it into dust and sand. 

I immediately grasped my emotions , emotions  which deviated in every possible dimension  and reigned in my sentiments trying to avoid letting them go astray, trying to find the root cause why the structure stood so remarkably supreme in spite of the ravages and havocs played by rain, sleet, storm, thunder and lightening.

Then, then suddenly it dawned upon me, my inner self upon reflection revealed to me the secret of defiance of the structure to time.

UNITY: It was the unison of ideas, of the architects who visualized a dream and cohesion of thoughts with which the masons, labourers, painters and the entire paraphernalia of people so associated in its construction who converted the abstract dream into a reality which was able to withstand and defy time. Still it does so.

FAITH: It was the faith, trust and reliance of these masons, labourers, painters and the entire paraphernalia of people so associated in its construction upon the planners allegorically Allama Iqbal and the architects allegorically Quaid-e-Azam, which gave the members of this team the strength to carry on its construction come what may hail sleet or storm.

DISCIPLINE: It was discipline that forged amongst the ranks of all the members of this team despite of the fact that there could have been variation of thoughts, ideas amongst the members of this team but despite of several of thousands of diverging thoughts and ideas they all collectively thought they had to sacrifice their own thoughts and ideas but they gave credence to a thought which was collectively important.

And they succeeded in erecting a concrete paradigm which ultimately projected to our generation and to this world how compound their perceptions were. And this is how this gargantuan and magnificent structure came into being.

These reminiscences were not mere thoughts of futility. IF WE INCORPORATE AND SUBSEQUENTLY IMPLEMENT, THESE THREE MAGIC WORDS INTO OUR DAILY LIFE, WE TOO WOULD ONE DAY DREAM OF ATTAINING THE IMMORTALITY ATTAINED AND ACHIEVED BY THE PLANNERS AND ARCHITECTS OF THIS NATION.

PAKISTAN ZINDABAD!!

-Sr 

Legacy of Nasir Continues.

Ambala, a small city district located on borders of Indian Haryana and Punjab , brought into existence the most prominent, exuberant and a marvellous poetic figure, a celeb that literary world would never forget. Nasir Kazmi a perfectionist of true sort, each of his writings produced epilogues of allegory which made his writings invincible and unassailable.

His poetic life started in 1940s writing romantic poems and sonnets while he looked after his fertile lands in Ambala which he inherited from his ancestors he soon had to migrate to Pakistan after the independence he chose Lahore the heart of Pakistan to compose his ambitious poetries. Ensnared by the thoughtful verses of Mir Taqi Mir he was greatly touched. He started writing ghazals (couplets) under the guidance of Hafeez Hoshyarpuri.

His writings instilled pathos which he had seen at the time of independence, the murders, the lootings and the degradation left an indelible impact on Kazmi's poetry. His artistic ideas were complex yet so easy to grasp. His work beamed about the humane longings and desires and about the love struggling for survival.

Migration though brought glory and he was made the editor of Auraq-i-Nau. Later in 1952 he became the editor-in-chief of Humayun, was associated briefly with Radio Pakistan in Lahore.
A decorous purpose enthused Kazmi to write more and more. He wanted to capture every glory life brought to him, every emotion he gone through, every abstract he had seen, he brought life to his writings which contained gothic emotions, which garlanded his name with immortality.
Apart from the Nazm and Ghazals he was a writing virtuoso. Surr Ki Chaya' is one such work in this book where his proficiency in writing is elaborated. Surr Ki Chaya ' was shaped imperiously and well conceptualized.

Even 35 years after his death his writings persevere the very same charm and they delight. The preserved images have reincarnated the beliefs that Kazmi held onto and continue to amaze its readers

 -Sr