Gone are the days when a "khat" meant "aadhi mulaqat" !

I had  forgotten the traditional style of letter writing as if it never happened to me. I am using the word happened after going through an experience last night. While searching for a lost document I bumped into an old treasure box of letters, paper cards and printed photographs….ahh those good old days.

Those cards reminded me of my childhood, my relationship with my siblings before we all got lost in different corners of this planet. Those lifeless pieces of paper brought so many living friends and memories. Those silent words spoke my friends’ languages with perfection as I could visualize all the golden moments of school and college days. I had a wonderful time with my past going through those cards and letters.

That  love and  closeness and the precious expression is all gone with a single blow of social networking. Now we see each other every day on Facebook and Twitter but the life and soul of those relations is missing. We exchange recent pictures and days to day routines but no longer touch each other’s lives. We never get to sit and talk in peace when we do not have to run for the next task or appointment. Alas! life is more like an job now. Who has the leisure of sitting and writing letters to each other? Typing a few lines in short or broken English serves the purpose of staying in touch…

I wonder do people still write and post letters in this age of email and internet. I did not write a single letter for years and yesterday I realized what I missed in all these years. I received only one or two letters and paper cards in recent past  which made me forget the happiness and bonding attached with this activity of writing and receiving letters and cards. Now eid is coming and I know there won’t be a single door bell to drop an eid card at my door step when my wall on facebook will be flooded with eid wishes!

I haven’t seen a post man in my street for a long time. The courier only delivers bills and magazines now!! Where has the “daakia” disappeared ….

Remeber the childhood rhyme…Daakia aya, daak laaya!

Technorati Tags: facebook, internet, khat, letter writing, old letters, paper cards, postman

Lets educate a child

I am motivated, touched and impressed by this simple yet beautiful story by Mr Asad Ali. After reading this I felt a huge burden of responsibility on my shoulders (Even more as I am a  teacher by profession). We often assume that these beggers will stay on streets all their lives but they need a little help, a small push, some direction, a kind heart and our precious time. I know you will feel the same after reading this.

Riaz wanted to learn English – by Asad Ali

It was almost 11 years ago when I stopped my car at the Teen Talwar traffic light to be greeted by the usual herd of beggars, windscreen cleaners and newspaper sellers.

One of the newspaper sellers, Riaz, a total of four feet in height, asked me for a lift to the Marriot signal. Irritated by the commotion around me, I chose to ignore him.

Rather than moving on, he boldly walked in front of my car, locked eyes with me, stuck his teeth out like President Asif Zardari would, if he stared at the sun, and performed a mini-break dance in defiance. His army of four footers was in hysterics.

What a cheeky little fellow!

The traffic light turned green and I drove on only to see high fives being exchanged in the rear view mirror.

About a week later, I was going to pick up my mother from the Karachi airport and once again stopped at the same traffic light. His Royal Cheekiness appeared, but this time he was alone. He politely informed me:

“Sir, signal tak jaana hai.” (Sir, I have to go to the next signal.)

I asked him to come around and sit in the passenger seat. As he sat inside the air conditioned car, he took a huge sigh of relief. He looked tired, worn out and a bit disoriented.

I asked:

“Kya huwa? Naach gaanay say thak gaye?” (What happened? Tired of singing and dancing?)

He looked at me quite confused. In return, I gave him a big smile and subtly mimicked his break dance move from the week earlier. He started laughing uncontrollably for about sixty seconds. “Sorry, sir”, he said to which I replied that Pakistan needs more artists, so he needn’t be.

After about five minutes, we arrived at his stop. He thanked me and asked if I wanted to buy a newspaper. I looked at him quietly for a few seconds trying to picture his entire day from start to finish. Perhaps a little recess was in order. “I’ll tell you what…” I proposed (in Urdu of course). “I’ll buy the entire stack if you give me company to the airport and back”.

It was as if the entire weight of the world was lifted off Riaz’s little shoulders and replaced by the thought of complete bliss, even if it was for just an hour. He agreed, closed the door and sat back down. I put on his seat belt for him (only to receive a condescending look), turned up the volume on the stereo and divided the AC vents between us. Conversation was expected to be limited, but satisfaction immense.

As it turned out, there were plenty of stories that were shared on our journey; some humorous, some serious and some downright painful (at least on his side). I could only offer two-bit advice knowing very well that it was all well and good in the theoretical sense, but too hard for someone in his situation to apply. Instead, we both chose to focus on the green patch of grass that was the present, especially the background (and sometimes blaring) music. In fact, Riaz became quite the fan of the Pulp Fiction soundtrack as suggested by his numerous head bobs and shoulder shrugs.

Upon arriving at the airport parking lot, Riaz jumped out of the car and raced towards the arrival exit as if he was going to receive some long lost friend after many years of separation. Trying to stand tall on the railing he would point towards every arriving passenger and impatiently ask, “is that them?” When my mother finally came out of the exit, Riaz ran towards her and grabbed the carry-on piece she was rolling. In her confusion, she let go off the bag not knowing its fate. To her amazement Riaz came and stood right beside me with the piece. “Er…and who are we?” she asked with a confused grin. “We sell newspapers” I replied with a big smile.

The three of us sat in the car and proceeded towards Clifton. This leg of the journey, Riaz was very formal. Not a peep came from the back seat. My mother and I conversed mostly in English with a few sentences of Urdu mixed in as we usually do, ignoring the fact that there was another passenger in the car. After about ten minutes, my mother started asking Riaz questions about where he lived, what he did, his parents etc. But I was a little surprised at the bluntness of the answers and how they lacked the same detail he shared with me earlier.

Occasionally I would glance at him through the rear-view mirror and find him staring into the empty space as if he was listening to something intently. Perhaps he was trying to focus on the faint music coming from the rear speakers. What a musical nerd I thought; God bless him. We ended up dropping Riaz at the Baloch Colony Bridge. As promised, I bought his newspapers. I also asked Riaz if I could meet him the next day at the same Teen Talwar traffic light. He agreed.

I packed a few bags of some old clothes (quite oversized for a ten-year-old) and other things that I thought would be handy for him. Riaz was at the traffic light, but without any newspapers this time. He sat in the car looking quite dissatisfied. I asked him if he had a great day and sold out. His jaw-dropping reply caught me completely off guard:

“Mujh ko akhbaar nahi baichnay… mujh ko ungraizee seekhni hai.” (I don’t want to sell newspapers. I want to learn English.)

Then it hit me. Riaz wasn’t staring into the empty space trying to listen to the faint music while sitting in the back seat. He was trying to decode the conversation my mother and I were having. He was trying to absorb the ‘sound of English.’

His timing couldn’t have been worse. I was leaving for the States in two weeks to pursue my undergraduate studies or else I would have taught him the language myself. In retrospect, I could have fixed him up with another family member, but that thought didn’t cross my mind at the time. Instead I took him to Boat Basin and bought some primary school books for English. But there was a catch. He had to find someone to teach him.

Parked outside the book store in Boat Basin, I gave Riaz an hour long lecture, the content of which shall remain between the two of us.

I handed him the bags, the books and an envelope.

He looked very sad. I felt even worse.

Then I ripped out a piece of paper from a notebook and wrote Riaz a letter… in English (the contents of which shall also remain undisclosed).

I wrote my e-mail address on it. If Riaz ever wrote back to me, well I don’t have to explain what that would mean.

Almost eleven years later (three days ago) I received an e-mail from Riaz for the first time. His determination to learn to speak the language proved to be truly remarkable.

Riaz’s story is a testament to the fact that our youth is thirsty for education. Unfortunately our leaders have not provided the necessary infrastructure – but that story is old now.

We have run out of excuses to let things be as they are. If only one per cent of us took the responsibility to take one 10-year old from the street under our wing, in ten years we would have 1.8 million more educated people than what would have been otherwise. Ten years fly by. Imagine if two per cent of us mobilised.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to do anything substantial for Riaz. He is completely self-made.

But, he did do something for me. He reminded me that there is no excuse for mediocrity.

Technorati Tags: child beggers, educate a poor child, pakistan beggers

Private armed guard

Strolling on my way to work this morning I was too involved in thinking ‘How things are getting from bad to worse everyday’. The beautiful spring morning seemed gloomy and I envied each brand new car driver and luxury home owners in this post sector of Islamabad. We all have the same Creator, who made us alike and Claims to love everyone then why this discrimination? Allah has given so much to some people and has made survival impossible for some.

I know we should count our blessings like health,loved ones etc. but one can enjoy these only if he/she will live. Or the rising cost of living in Pakistan will force the silent and honest  minority to give up their values and morals. To feed their kids, to educate them, to take them to a doctor, to give them a rented house, to light the bulbs in their rooms, to heat the ovens, to put food in their plates, to cover their bodies…..they have to give up the scared quality of ‘honesty’.

Pakistan is a country which is known for corrupt leadership where our wealthy elite gathers money from wherever they get and lead life like kings and they want us to believe that our prime minister has assets around 2 Crore ruppees only! (And rest of the bunch also made similar declarations) They are making life ‘unliveable’ for common people.  Every businessman, doctor, shopkeeper etc is playing a role by helping them in this slow poisoning of the poor. Government  raises the cost of one thing and every doctor, every shopkeeper raises the prices and fees like wise. Nobody cares if others die.

We are actually not a nation but lakhs of small mean groups living in a country where every crocodile eats up other animals for its survival. He wants to stay alive even if others die. We are no better then animals!!!

What is the use of having an elected government if it cannot  insure one thing only i-e food for every one. We are not talking about roti, kapra aur makan but only roti. We should throw away such a democracy which sells imported cheese, soaps, biskits, tissues, cars, generators at affordable prices for the rich and does not insure aata, cheeni and dal to the poor at a subsidized rates. Why can’t they sell those luxuries at double prices to people who can pay and give cheap food to the poor. But only if they cared… I am sorry for these random thoughts. I am not sure if all these words make sense to you or not.

One last thing …. I heard a friend saying one day that every house in Islamabad has an armed guard who is payed a few thousands to protect a household earning in crores.A day will come when the same guards will lift arms on their masters!

Technorati Tags: corrupt politicians, poor in pakistan, poverty, rising cost of living in pakistan, roti kapra makaan poor

Life

Zindage kia hai, aye dost!

Aao sochein aur pareshann houn …..

Our Holy Prophet has summed up ‘life’ in the most interesting way! Abdullah ibn Umar (May Allah be pleased with them both),  relates that the Prophet (Peace be upon him) once held my shoulders and said:
“Live in this world as (if you are) a wayfarer or a stranger.”
Being a stranger you enjoy the life the most when you look at it as a new and unexplored thing BUT you do not think of settling down there for ever!

When Dalai Lama was asked  “What thing about humanity surprises you the most?”
His answer was as follows:            *“Man”*
Because he sacrifices his health in order to make money
Then he sacrifices his money to recuperate his health
And then he is so anxious about the future that he doesn’t enjoy the                  present,
And as a result he doesn’t live in the present or the future
And he lives as if he’s never going to die, and then he dies having never                really   lived.

Give your life a purpose, we are not here for ever. Enjoy but keep your goals in sight.

On a lighter note  “The first half of our lives is ruined by our parents and the second half by our children.” Clarence S. Darrow

Secret of Happy Life

Technorati Tags: dalai lama, future, hadith about life, health, man, man's life, money, present

monster thoughts

During my days of living in the hostel I learnt how to talk myself out of trouble. Feeling low, home sick or having trouble coping with so many new people and many such moments raised the need of having friendly ear and shoulder! Which is hard to get living with friends of your own age. I managed to talk to myself and control my negative feelings which kept me out of depression in those lonely days when only means of communicating home were via “air mail”…..no sms, no mobile, no internet. Can u imagine? Even I can’t !

I did not realize the negative impacts of nuturing such thoughts then. Neither did I have any idea about the words which can tame these “monsters”. Now I know it does effect your health, thinking, studies, work, digestion and even your relationships. Health experts claim that these thoughts can ruin your life and they call them ANTS – Automatic Negative Thoughts!

“In his new book Change Your Brain, Change Your Body, Dr Amen identifies the infuriatingly common scourge: the ANT (Automatic Negative Thought), which he describes as ‘the ­little voices that pop into your head and tell you you’re not good enough, not thin enough, a rubbish daughter, mother, worker’. A few ants he says can be managed but having more are alarming.”

He further says ANT-eater techniques can develop an ant-eater in your brain that can eat up all these negative thoughts. Read More.

Dr Amen’s book deals only with the thoughts one has about his/her appearance and how these thoughts end up changing you. In my opinion the impact covers whole of ones life.

For example if we blame ourselves for the failures in life and feel guilty about it all the time then our positive activities come to a stand still. Admitting failure before trying by saying “i can never do it” is another sign that we are losing control over our actions. Like you can not succeed in a job interview if you yourself think you are not good enough and there is no point in attempting at all. If we have to do anything in life like attempting an exam, losing weight, winning a debate or even dressing up for an occasion we need to train our mind ( which I do my talking to myself) by logical and realistic reasoning.

So, control the “monster ants” developing in your mind before they take charge!

Technorati Tags: control your brain, monster ants, negative thoughts, positive

Eid ka chand

Chalo apni apni eid manayein….

A recreational cum religious activity for our maulanas takes place a few times every year where a scene is set and maulanas explore the skies. This is called “spot the moon” and whole of the nation looks from their eyes. They have the equipment and the met department to assist them but our moon controversy is here to stay.

All other issues haunting us like floods, drones and sialkot boys are put aside at such times and everyone is glued to the tv screens for the “moon” updates! My friend’s niece called from Kohat and asked “khala! aap ke tv pe chaand nazar aa gaya hai?” Kids who are usually not willing to share their cartoon time with us were ready to check news channels for the discovery of the eid moon. After hours of struggle we got the mubarakbad for 30th roza and KP for eid!

Technorati Tags: 9/11, chanda mamu door key, eid 2010 pakistan, eid in KP, eid in pakistan, kids nursery rhymes, mufti muneeb ur rehman, ruet-e-hilal committe

be quiet

This bird is trying to stop the other one from speaking. It seems even the birds do not believe in the freedom of expression any more:)))

Or it looks like a tired husband is back from work and cannot tolerate the wife’s complaints. He has lost his temper like humans ))

Anyway, it is excellent photography. I wonder how someone captured this unique action and that too with perfection. can you think of any other caption?

“yeh dastoor-e-zubaan bandi hai kaisa teri mehfil main

Keh yahan to baat kerney ko tarast-ti hai zubaan meri!!”

Technorati Tags: bird picture, freedom of expression, funny pictures, pakistanihousewife, tolerance, urdu shairi

They tried to make themselves better over the years and after multiplechin and cheek implants, as well as botox and fillers you will be shocked to see them. This is why Allah says in the Glorious Quran ““We have indeed created humankind in the best of molds.” Quran 95:4

When man tries on improve on how Allah has made him …this is the result. After being obsessed with their looks they made themselves horrific.

Igor and Grichka Bogdanoff now

Allah is the best creator and indeed He has made us in the best moulds. Have a look at Michael Jackson too.

michael-jackson-surgery

People are wasting so much of time, money and effort on their looks which will not last ….as even we the human or this whole world will not last forever.

Technorati Tags: Allah, Allah is the best creator, best creator, Igor Grichka Bogdanoff, michael jackson, plastic surgery, Quran

Can daddy bathe me

THE NEXT SURVIVOR SERIES

• Six married men will be dropped on an island with one car and 3 kids each for six weeks.
• Each kid will play two sports and take ither music or dance classes.
• There is no fast food.
• Each man must take care of his 3 kids; keep his assigned house clean, correct all homework, complete science projects, cook, do laundry, and pay a list of ‘pretend’ bills with not enough money.
• In addition, each man will have to budget enough money
• for groceries each week.
• Each man must remember the birthdays of all their friends and relatives, and send cards out on time–no emailing.
• Each man must also take each child to a doctor’s appointment, a dentist appointment and a haircut appointment.
• He must make one unscheduled and inconvenient visit per child to the Emergency Room.
• He must also make cookies or cupcakes for a school function.
• Each man will be responsible for decorating his own assigned house, planting flowers outside, and keeping it presentable at all times.
• The men will only have access to television when the kids are asleep and all chores are done.
• The men must shave their legs, wear makeup daily, adorn themselves with jewelry, wear uncomfortable yet stylish shoes, keep fingernails polished,
• and eyebrows groomed.
• During one of the six weeks, the men will have to endure severe abdominal cramps, backaches, headaches, have extreme, unexplained mood swings but never once complain or slow down from other duties.
• They must attend weekly school meetings and church, and find time at least once to spend the afternoon at the park or a similar setting.
• They will need to read a book to the kids each night and in the morning, feed them, dress them, brush their teeth and comb their hair by 7:30 am.
• A test will be given at the end of the six weeks, and each father will be required to know all of the following information:

each child’s birthday,
height,
weight,
shoe size,
clothes size,
doctor’s name,
the child’s weight at birth,
length,
time of birth,
and length of labor,
each child’s favorite color,
middle name,
favorite snack,
favorite song,
favorite drink,
favorite toy,
biggest fear,
and what they want to be when they grow up.

• The kids vote them off the island based on performance.
• The last man wins only if…he still has enough energy to be intimate with his spouse at a moment’s notice.
• If the last man does win, he can play the game over and over and over again for the next 18-25 years, eventually earning the right to be called Mother!

After you get done laughing, send this to as many females as you think will get a kick out of it and as many men as you think can handle it.

Just don’t send it back to me….

I’m going to bed.

Technorati Tags: funny, humor, Humour, husband, husband wife, men and women, men vs women, wife, Women

Adding to all this he said ‘Sarah and I may go off and do charity work’. All the best to this lovely family!

Gordon Brown resigns

I know its not a big deal for the people of UK  but for us it is. Our heads of state either fly to other countries which welcome them with open arms. I wonder why our culprits are their honorable guests! If they are not welcomed by the outsiders then they go behind the bars. I wish we develop such an accountability system that our leaders can also retire and still be a part of our free society.

I used to believe that this will happen only when a common educated man will be the head of our country but thanks to Mr Shoukat Aziz we cannot trust anyone anymore.

Can you imagine Mr Asif Zardari, Benazir bhutto and their children bidding farewell in the same manner….they wil never do it because they think the own the country for the coming generations too. God bless us.

Technorati Tags: asif zardari, benazir bhutto, gordon brown, Pakistan, pakistani hopusewife, pakistani prime minister, shaukat aziz