میں اگر زیست کی

اس کہانی کو

تصنیف خود کررہا ہوں

تو کردار میرے بنائے ہوئے

کیوں نہیں ہیں،

 

یہ کہانی ورق در ورق

باب در باب

میرے تصور کے برعکس

تبدیل ہوتی رہی ہے،

 

میرا احساس خود مجھ کو

جبری مشقت کا قیدی

بنائے ہوئے ہے،

 

مگرآسمان محبت میں

ہلکی سی جنبش ہوئی ہے

اور مجھ کو یقیں ہے

میرے حصے کی روشن کرن

میرے زنداں کی جانب

روانہ ہوئی ہے۔

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The OBL Episode

The last couple of days have been eventfully immense. The guy who figured central in the security turnarounds in Afghanistan and Pakistan for the last 20 years or so, someone been dubbed as the most wanted person to the USA, the enigma called Osama Bin Laden is said to be killed and ‘taken out’ from a house in Abbottabad in a Sting operation conducted by the US Army. The US civilian and military leadership pronounced the news to be a great victory and ‘justice’ to the victims of the twin towers in New York. The US military took all the credit of the operation terming it their own and that they were in surveillance of the hideout for quite some time.

The details of the event as they poured in and swelled through the idiot boxes in Pakistan, made the masses bamboozled much like Osama did the world media and leadership at large. Our ‘democratic’ and military leadership were caught unawares leading the former, the PM of Pakistan to issue an abrupt statement much in the tone of Obama.

The military are still keeping mum as to what exactly transpired. The significance of the event is such that the Pakistan Army might find itself between a rock and hard place. If it confesses a role in the operation, it in effect invites the wrath of a wounded enemy; if it denies an involvement, serious questions arise over its ability to defend the national borders.

The operation itself looks dubious. The haste it involved, the city the location and the very presence of the person who suffered renal failures almost a decade ago. Somebody told this scribe that Osama had a dialysis session at the CMH Rawalpindi in the late nineties and that he was gifted a dialysis machine by the hospital administration. How on earth could an aged dialysis patient survive without constantly been treated, especially when no such equipment was found in the house that is said to have been constantly monitored and whose inhabitants are said to be aloof and isolated? Why such haste to dispose the body of the most wanted criminal on earth? And why the waters when he could be showcased to the world for the fate he met? The more one probes the matter the more deceitful the story appears. We haven’t yet forgotten Donald Rumsfeld’s confession of the false grounds Iraq was invaded on.

However twisted the story seems, the US of A delivered a decisive punch to floor an ‘ally’. The points it aimed to score are;

  • To send a message that it can strike anyone, anytime and anywhere
  • To salvage something of a war it is finding hard to win
  • To keep its ‘strategic partner’ under pressure to ‘do more’
  • To legitimize its claims of a ‘double-game’ the Pakistani spy agencies play
  • To further alienate the Pakistani masses from an erstwhile trusted Army
  • To legitimize drone insertions

These are tricky times for an energy short, ill governed Pakistan. The confidence of the people ever dwindles. The civil and military leadership need to come out firm and erase the layers of ambiguity around this whole OBL episode. We could always start afresh if the sincerity and will is there.

Random Thoughts

Floods: They have wrecked the body structure of Pakistan. Starting from the mountains in the north in KPK and protracting through the plains of southern Punjab to Sind and Baluchistan. The waters were never so high and never so wide to sweep along high buildings, bridges, houses, crops, cattle and most of all precious human lives. The dent to the infrastructure is immense. The misery of millions of our folks is heart-wrenching. People are starved of food, bereft of shelter and exposed to water rife in epidemics. What they need now is the support of us all spared by the calamity. The magnitude of the disaster makes it our obligation to try and restore the lives, pride and dignity of our people in troubled waters.

Altaf bhai: As if we were short of the disasters, bhai saab wants us to be hit by another. In his recent signature telephonic sermon the moron politician invited ‘the patriots’ in military to come forth and take over the reins of this ill-governed state (of the government he himself is a part). He acts crocodile when says he is moved by the cause of the flood-stricken – advocating the cause in his cozy London flate where he’s glued from eternity come hell or high water. And more so, his proposed military takeover to him is neither a martial law nor something unconstitutional – a marriage of both amid the larger national tragedy. He wants chaos, utter chaos!

Spot-Fixing: Let us not bash them left right and center. Let us not propose punishments. It is pre-mature. The allegations are still to be proved. Till whatever comes this latest scandal of spot-fixing by some of the Pakistan cricketers is damaging with a potential to taint the very image of Pakistan and its cricket beyond redemption. Controversies of one or the other kind has been a regular feature on the Pakistan English tours throughout history. The English media is always on a lookout to malign the gifted players from our part of the world. This is not to say our cricketers are innocent. There is a possibility of black sheep everywhere. But they ought not to be considered guilty until proved so. I feel for Aamir. He is too young, too talented to lose his reputation and career in the nasty business of match or spot-fixing. I wish he’s not the culprit!

Nothingness/Weirdness

I feel pity on this blog for the way it suffers the brunt of inactivity thanks to the rainless seasons in the barren lands of my mind. I started this to grow green pastures of optimism amid the infertility all around me, but alas!

So, the current is a rather lame effort to keep it alive for I have nothing significant to write. What about sharing with you a rather ‘funny’ incident that happened to me a couple of days back? Hmm .. let me recall it;

On the scorching last Sunday afternoon, I went out to the market to have some groceries. As I walked back towards my flat I felt as if somebody on a motorbike was chasing me. I sensed it right when he stopped right beside me and asked,

‘hello, do you live in this hostel?’, he pointed towards the nearby boys hostel.

‘no’ I replied rather politely. ‘why? is it alright?’

‘I actually have seen you somewhere. Do you go to the City gym?’ he took his helmet off, ran his fingers in those sweaty, shiny locks of his and I nodded to his query. As though in a hurry he asked my cell phone number which I couldn’t refuse. (my mannerism got the better of me, to my shock and bewilderment later). I offered him a cup of tea or cold drink which he smilingly promised for some other time later.

Later when I pondered the whole encounter, I couldn’t stop scolding myself for giving personal information to strangers out there. The thing became tricky when I received this sms like;

‘hey, it was nice to meet you yaar!’ to which I replied, ‘but I’m curious as to why you stopped and asked me those questions; tell me about yourself’.

The series of his replies incensed, shocked and amused me when he introduced himself to be an internee in a bank and showed his willingness to have with me ‘a relationship of romance’ 😛 I curbed my intention of bashing him for good and shut him up with a reply which thankfully he understood.

A friend of mine took his number and introduced himself to be somebody with an ‘open mind unlike Aadil’s conservatism’ to play a prank on the eccentric being but the ploy couldn’t work courtesy my friend’s mentioned age of 40 😛

On a serious note, the whole episode reminded me of how moralities evaporate and how values overlap in the age of so called globalization.

P.S: Some of the details have consciously been skipped to avoid indecency. I apologize if it still is.

P.P.S: It was Farhan who prompted me to post this encounter since I mentioned it on my twitter account 😉

Progression Of An Elegy

A poem is coming;
oozing through a tiny opening
of the block —

a bullet hole
from the left to the right hemisphere
in the skull of this Waziristan child.

A poem is coming
wrapped in a blood-stained sheet
upheld in a charpoy
over the shoulders of the bereaved
of a drone strike;

is coming,
screaming to be heard,
staggering under crimson curlicues,
intruding onto the blank peace,
of your apathy.

Boredom

It has never been a case with me — such protraction of a phase of boredom. The current one has really stretched from days to weeks to months and I don’t know where it intends to go from here dragging me along. When I retrospect, I find some missing links, the fading glimpse of a galaxy I used to enkindle my being from. The realization is, that I lost my inspiration and I badly need some to turn this tide of nothingness.

I wish to reconnect with the people whose presence meant colors when things became dull like they are.

An evening to remember

It has been quite some time since I last attended a function of sorts at the Pakistan Academy Of Letters, so when I received this sms of invitation from Khurram Khiraam Siddiqui, the PAL editor of English I had to go there for one doesn’t always come across a person of the stature of Zulfikar Ghose, the US based poet, novelist and essayist, whom the gathering was arranged for.

I was fortunate to arrive earlier at the Editor’s office, meet the honorable Ghose sahib and exchange some pleasantries with him. Thats where I got my hands literally on a copy of the biannual anthology of the Pakistani writers, ‘The Pakistani Literature’ where translations from a variety of Pakistani languages as well as original English works of the prominent Pakistani literati are published. I flipped through pages and was pleasantly surprised to see the publication of four of my translated poems from Pushto. I conveyd my gratitude to Mr. Khiraam who enhanced my delight by showing me a heavier anthology which included pieces of translations as well as a selection of the original Pakistani English literature from 1947 to 2010, that again included a translation of mine. I requested for the contributor’s copies which the Editor generously handed me with compliments.

The function itself was a wonderful experience. Ghose sahib recited poems from his latest collection called ’50 Poems’ published by the Oxford University Press. In between the recitals of his inspiring poetry Ghose sahib delighted us with interesting anecdotes pertaining mostly to his experiences in life. There was a question-answer session in the end which again was full of information as we came to know how writers born in the third world are assigned labels in the West and how it limits the scope of a writer.

The modertator Khurram Khiraam Siddiqui (left) with Zulfikar Ghose (right)

It was an evening to remember and one would like to be a part of such enlightening gatherings more often.