Khwab Kahani

Hum ek khwab ki soorat zindagi guzarne ki koshish main hain. Iss beech main humein bahar se haqeeqat kay kankar aur zamane kay pathar aa kar lagte rehte hain. Hum apni si koshish kar kay apni dunya ko sath sath uthaye chalte hain. Sath chalne main takleef kam aur qurbat ziada hoti hai.

Hum ne sath chalne ki bunyaad hi apni umeedon ko paray kar k rakhi thee. Lekin ye kya kay ab hum umeedon aur mohabbaton kay chungal main phans gaye hain?

Wo dekho…..dekho…..humari dunya main darrar par rahi hai. Hum khuwahishon ki daldal aur aarzo’on kay bhanwar main ghoom rahe hain.

Hum kal nahi jaante per main doobne ki aur kho jane kay andhere jaanti hun. Aur hum jante hain k hum doobna nahi chahte…….. doobna tau marna hai.

Zindagi kay ander hum ne zindagi dhoondi hai.
Dunya main ek dunya banai hai.

Dukhon kay darya se khushi ka chashma phoota hai.

Naseeb ki raat se qismat ki subah-e-nau hui hai.





Hum wapis sath sath chalte hain, pass pass rehte hain.
--------------------------main geet koi kaise gaaon, mere honton per tum hanste ho!!!!

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Indulgence

"I want to bury my head in your chest. Just so you don't hide yourself from me, instead I will hide myself in you."

--- Kookee-ness :)

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Obedience Overrated

Today, when I opened my eyes I didn’t roll down the chicks. Instead, I looked out at the sky with thickest clouds and a shining sun playing peek-a-boo. My lips curved into a smile while thinking about the changes. Nothing is permanent but for once I want to go with the flow, to follow, with no guilt around.

For a change, I feel like breaking rules and being disobedient. For once I want to be “free”.

Obedience is such a deceiving term in my part of the world. Here it is interpreted as a sign of being good and respected whereas to me it is slavery; because it curbs my right to question. Obedience is to just bend down and give in to other’s will without mentioning your willingness or knowing a rationale.

It is very common around just that not many of us have noticed, that questioning any authority falls under disobedience. Whenever my parents used to scold me over something or try to force “because I said so” situations on me, I used to open my mouth and asked for logic. Hence never been an obedient daughter to them because I always dare to ask for logic behind any practice. Obedience doesn’t mean that mental slavery comes into being. We have a matter of 8oz which definitely wants to be used often than expected.

In this part of the world, being obedient means stay shut up and close your mind. In short, the connection between your mind and tongue should be disconnected.

Reasons, logic, questions will not be entertained because “we know better” is unbeatable.

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Mulaqaat

Tum se alag hone kay baad, mujhe laga ab hum kabhi nahi milen gay na hi humare raaste takrayen gay. Lekin main apne dil aur dimagh dono se bekhabar iss khush fehmi ko galay lagaye chalay jarahi thee.......... Aur tab hi...........

Shehar kay shadeed shor main, sarak ki dhool kay paar dekhte hue, janay kahan se tum bijlee ki tarha zehan main koond jatay ho. Roz ek hi raaste se guzarte hue, janay kaise tum barabar main aa kar beth jatay ho aur mujhe aatish geer ankhon se dekhte ho.

Kaam kay bojh talay, mislay nimta’te tum samne aa kharay hote ho ye yaad dilane kay hum aamne samne nahi rahay. Notebook kay safhay palat’te koi tareekh tumhe mere zehan per raqam kar jaati hai. Coffee ka karwa pan, tumhari yaadon kay azaab se kam karwa lagne laga hai.

Shayad main khud ko bhi waisa hi dhoka deti hun, jaisa tum ne diya. Ek khwab main zindagi saath guzar kar ab koi khwaab dekhne ki himmat nahi rahi. Uss khwaab se andhi aankhein sirf tumhe dekh sakti hain.

Main ghalat thee.

Tum se judaa ho kar bhi tum se milnaa mushkil tau nahi.

Written by,

K.

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Baat se Baat - III

“Ab kaisa lagta hai?”

“Takleef hoti hai”

“Kisi aur ka hone per?”

“Wo mera kab tha? Jo hota tau sach hota.”

“Tumne ussay sach hi tau jana tha?”

“Jan’ne aur hone main farq hota hai. Dil kay raaste andhe hote hain, mujhe maloom hi nahi hua kab main andhi gehrai main girti chali gayi.”

“Kitna waqt guzar dia tumne andheron main.”

“Kuch andhere aisi roshni se behtar hain, jo aankhon ko andha karde.”

“Aur ab kya karogi?”

“Dafan kardun gi iss muhabbat ko, jo meri qabar ban rahi hai.”

“Aur usko?”

“Us kay liye mujhe khud dafan hona pare ga.”

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"اب کیسا لگتا ہے؟"

"تکلیف ہوتی ہے "

"کسی اور کا ہونے پر؟"

"وہ میرا تھا ہی کب؟  جو ہوتا تو سچ ہوتا."

"تم نے اسے سچ ہی تو جانا تھا."

"جاننے اور ہونے میں فرق ہوتا ہے. دل کے راستے اندھے ہوتے ہیں، مجھے معلوم ہی نہ ہوا کب میں اس گہری میں ڈوبتی چلی گیی "

"کتنا  وقت برباد کردیا تم نے ان اندھیروں کے پیچھے."

"کچھ اندھیرے ایسی روشنی سے بہتر ہیں جو آنکھوں کو اندھا کردیں."

"اب کیا کرو گی.؟"

"دفن  کردوں گی اس محبّت کو. .......جو میری قبر بن رہی ہے."

"اور اسکو؟"

"اس کے لئے مجھے خود دفن ہونا پڑے گا."

#بانوسازی  

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Dove called Love

A few years back, a friend asked me in a random conversation, what is love? I replied back, wo jo lamhe bhar main umar bhar kay liye hojaye (it happens to you in a moment for lifetime).

Till today, when people are losing faith in this dove, my faith is still unshaken. Day by day, when the world is getting darker in its deeds, love is only emotion which brings in some enlightenment. The idea may sound outdated but the truth is once you put on specs of love, first thing you get to see is optimism. So, yes, love is definitely not blind, dumb or deaf.

If I look around me, people after one bad experience start generalizing people and their emotions. Love used to be one of an integral part of one’s life, but now it seems to be moth-eaten. The older generation still holds it dear but those in the 20s and 30s are wary of it. They can listen to love songs, watch films about it but dread the idea of falling for it. Maybe we want the return of everything, be it an emotion even. What we need to understand is that emotions are not commodity where we can barter.

God made us with so much fondness that I am sure we have element of love running in our blood. No wonder, that when one’s element gets activated, he doesn’t bother about the boundaries of religion, ethnicity, sect etc.

It’s a free will.

Every aspect of life becomes positive and the goodness of humanity becomes apparent once you become aware of self- love and then selfless love. It is the only emotion that has the power to obsolete man-made differences and set you free.

Ye baatein, Wo baatein,
Kab humari batein ban gayi
Soch kay ab karna kya?
Dorahay se raah nikal gayi,
Palat kar peeche dekhna kya?
Kis ne dekha, Kis ne jaana,
Yun zindagi karwat badal gayi
Soch kay ab karna kya?
Hum ek dusre main kho jayen,
Dunya dhoond kay karna kya?
Written by,
K.

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Honestly Speaking

Some people wear their smile like a disguise. Those people who smile a lot, watch their eyes. I know 'cause I'm like that a lot. You think everything's ok, and it is . . . 'till it's not.

--- Ani Difranco

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Danger called Rangers

Back in 1992, I was introduced to the word Rangers with much remorse and hatred. The reason was the beginning of Operation Clean-Up. The locality where I grew up is a stronghold of Urdu speaking and that’s where it all began on the morning of June 19th, 1992.

I saw things from the eyes of an 8-year-old, who was waiting for a school bus at 6:20 am. I clearly remember shots of gunfire when my mother was helping me in getting dressed. Gunshots were not so common then and people could not comprehend the sound so we took it like any normal sound of tire burst. I and mother used to wait for my school bus with another older student. We got on our bus, waved goodbye, and took my favorite window seat. Around 5-7 minutes later my school bus entered hillside of North Nazimabad and since it was a summer morning, everyone and everything was clearly visible.

My school bus was stopped in the middle of the main road and asked to turn back as MQM was having it a first-ever public encounter with Rangers. The stoppers were some young guys who showed us a safe way to exit. Rangers were least bothered to spare a school bus. I didn’t see any one’s face then as it was covered with a red-checkered scarf but I certainly developed an emotion of gratitude. We went to our school anyways and came back home. I was full of stories for my father who was worried about the news of operation. Those guys were heroes!

I spent 4 years in the middle of operation where hundreds of boys were arrested, tortured, and killed for being Mahajir. Several were innocent, and some were guilty, but all were buried the same way. Mothers stopped their sons from attending morning prayers, sent them to other cities, or restrict their movements. Still many succumbed to Rangers with no choice.

Blackouts, days’ long strikes, shortage of food supplies, hiding in neighborhoods, were common incidences then. Living in apartments I had a better and closer look into all this. My mind is still bearing the memory of heavy boots running on the roof to chase and shoot young men, barging into houses, misbehaving with women. We never knew which night could be raid night. Next morning, every kid has a horror story to tell, especially the girl who lived next to TTC, North Nazimabad, this teacher's training center was chosen as Ranger's torture cell. My worst memory includes a man of early 20s who was going to offer Morning Prayer. He was stopped by Rangers, a little harassed, asked to turn around and run. He was shot dead within range of 3 feet probably

Everyone who has lived and experienced this operation first hand has his memory revived after Sarafarz Shah killing. Fortunately, this boy got killed under independent media. Operation Clean-Up had approx 15,000 killings which went unreported and unseen.

This is not the first time; an innocent lost his life at the hands of Rangers.

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21 Days

Dawn breaks.

It has been some time he has not seen broad daylight but today he is anticipating sunrays. This day he will be meeting his fate which will take away his license to life.

He wakes up, loosely hanging his legs from cemented slab while staring away, thinking what went wrong, where he stepped mistakenly or maybe he was destined. Every morning he misses his children jumping over him to drop them to school. It’s been days he is away from them and everyone else.

While washing his face and shaving almost a week’s beard, he ached for his wife’s reflection in the mirror. But he is not home. After dressing in crisp shalwar kamiz, he looks at himself with a familiarity he knew sometime back. Slipping on his leather sandals reminded him that he promised new joggers to his little one; a promise which will take time to be fulfilled. He is interrupted when a monotonous voice asked him,

“Sahab chai piyen gay?”
He nods with assent.

Coming out of cemented walls, heading towards the van, he keeps dodging the harsh sun. It takes some time to settle in and move ahead. His eyes move around and he catches a glimpse familiar and loved faces.

Hearing the several footsteps and surrounded by black & white souls, he enters with his head hanging down, looking at the mosaic floor. He is unable to find the answers except for saying, that it is not him. It seemed to him that he went unheard. Indeed, he was.

When coming down from the aisle, his eyes meet his brothers’ and he steps up to them. After purporting for a while, as if nothing has changed, they embrace each other and the salt can be picked and tasted from the corner of their eyes.

Life has collapsed from his hands while innocent and guilty walk hand in hand.

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SOS

Last night, when my brother called me to inquire about the attack on PNS Mehran, I was least bothered. I told myself probably it is some minor attack etc. and will be dealt with ease. Soon enough, a friend from Islamabad messaged that what the hell is happening in Karachi. That message put me on alert and thought maybe it’s another stroke on the capability of our forces after Operation Geronimo.

Obviously, like the majority of Pakistanis, I too was furious on the Pakistan Navy and its lack of surveillance and response to terrorism. My eyes were fixed on news channels till 2:30 a.m. while remarking how lame our forces can be. Despite that we got our SSG commandos on ground, we failed to save the base and aircraft from mere 15 terrorists. Probably they were far more dedicated to their cause and faithful to their promises of terror as compared to our supreme forces.

Somehow as a nation, we have blind faith in our military capabilities and assume that they are the savior. In recent months, our faith is being tried and tested and probably we are on the verge of losing it. I so don’t want to lose it.
Being a Pakistani, I am proud of various things and one of them is our Pakistan Armed Forces. They have made us proud on various occasions, either it's Battle of Mogadishu or a War against Terrorism. We have buried over 3000 soldiers and continue to do so. In return for our blood and sweat, we have got increased insecurity and orphaned generations.

It is high time, Pakistan Armed Forced buck up to their promised passion and stand for the national sovereignty. We have always believed in you and have given you our fathers, brothers, sons, and husbands. We expect you to protect us from unseen as you are one of us but above us.

We wish you a long life with the hope that it will not be wasted in barracks while planning your retirement plots in DHA or NORE.

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D for Divorce

Though it’s been a while now I sought divorced, I still keep coming across amusing social norms. Interestingly, they are found not only at home but even the west has its ways to address it.

My first ever amusement was seeing that children after divorce are either considered “issues” or casually called “excess baggage”. I clearly remember how many of those looking-concern aunties told me that am lucky for not having excess baggage with me. I was astonished to know that socially we torment the innocent existence. Wikipedia endorsed my astonishment when I read that Prince William and Prince Harry are not children but “issues” between Diana and Charles.

Almost 3 years ago, when I filed my case I knew am one of those few brave and bold women who dare to initiate this taboo factor. Brave because we know the consequences, and bold because ready to face the world with stigmata. In recent years, Pakistan has seen a high jump in divorce rate after a move made by Muslim Family Courts Amendment Ordinance. Despite, every year the numbers are increasing, we still consider it a taboo and keep hush tones.

In Pakistan, society is above religion and it doesn’t really matter that divorce is allowed by religion. If society considers it a taboo, it is a taboo and you better not challenge it. Though divorces are no more an unusual hearing but still outlawed.

A few days back over the weekend, during a late-night family gossip session, my sister told me that whenever she has to mention the word “divorce” in front of her 9-year-old, she instead use “doctor”. I told her that by now, your son must have known what it is. But her opinion is that “aise alfaaz khule aam istemaal karengay, tau khulay aam hogi” (if we use the word openly, it will happen openly). In short, the word should maintain its forbidden nature.

I fail to understand the shame in being divorced until unless it happened out of a shameful reason. We need to realize that God allows divorce, under severe condition, because He knew that such conditions will be born out of mankind. Unfortunately, mankind is not acceptable as we own small hearts and minds.

Our society tends to ignore the root causes of divorce, instead try to curb it by remaining it a social stigma; a stigma which has a different set of rules for male and female. For this, I need one lengthy post.

I will make sure I teach my children the difference between right and wrong so they know D is Divorce and Doctor both.

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Over Heard at Nando's

Lady to the Waiter, on choosing the flavor:

“Mild aur Hot kay beech main kya hota hai?”

(What’s between the mild and hot?)

Next, I knew, I and other 4 friends couldn’t stop laughing over this suggestive query. We started discussing what could be the answer and also asked some of our guy friends. Here are the cheesy replies:

• Me.


• Main Hoon Na


• Depending what’s the capability of handler


• Average


• Aap jo kahein ;)

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Dear Khurram,

Today it’s been 9 years; we buried you 6 feet under.
If I say that life has changed since then, would be overly dramatic and sentimental. But yes, would you have been alive and smiling, I could say my friend is there for me. Usually, time fades memories, but somehow my elephant’s memory has made a movie of that time. I keep reminiscing about you often.

You are stamped in my brain; probably you were the first loved one I ever lost. We didn’t learn or unlearn anything from you but once you left we found that you were much more than what you showed to the world.

Death is definite and I want to admit that yours came quite blunt. If you had been racing, it was easier to console ourselves but your death was another’s mistake.

A mistake that could not be undone.

I miss you :(

Khurram Ayub
8th May 1983 – 21st April 2002

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Revisiting

We keep hearing that time changes, but it’s the only side of the coin. I managed to flip and found the better side. Time does change but it is dependent on people and circumstances. It can be good, in fact so good that you want to hold on to it tightly.

I too tried holding it or maybe stopping it but the clock kept ticking.

When the first time I saw the Nile, I felt so much homesick that I broke twice. But that was when I knew none and the time turned on to its ugly side of the coin. Then a good soul walked up, turned the coin and I smiled. Soon I had my comfort zone build up around me. Time was the same just that I had people around me who were interested in making me happy.

I guess I was lucky for quite some time and will be indebted to those people for life. Throughout our lives, we, or at least I, get to know people on the basis of our families, schooling, college, peers, and status, etc. sort of recommended relations. It was strange to know that I am taken for who I am without biasness or any prior judgment.

Then one day, I had to get over with it by my own consent.

But time spent well is a memory that speeds up your heartbeat, and rejuvenates your brain cells. Time and place never mattered it’s the people.

One day I want to experience this freedom again where I can be me.

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Confessions of a Chocoholic

I am on a chocolate overdose for the last two days; somehow I just cannot control my brain to stop responding to it. People around have start saying if am in love or a relationship and I tell them a big NO.

I can go and ask anyone to make a chocolate charity for me so I can proceed with my day happily and free. I even smuggle into my bag without Mommy noticing, or keep munching it without colleagues seeing and asking for their share. Most shamelessly, I can baffle a 3-year-old for chocolate saying, “awwww birdie took it away”. Someday, I plan to tell him that the birdie was his very own Aunt K.

Chocolate actually keeps me away from the crap called, love. Why I call it crap? It’s because I saw the ugly picture. If I had seen the non-existent side of love, which is oh-so-beautiful, then maybe my opinion would have changed. But for now, I declare chocolate to be my most faithful and life long partner. You know what? I won’t even get scandalized for having an affair with chocolate. It is unbelievably safe.

I am exceptionally high on chocolate, eating it like any staple food.

It’s better than you.

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Joining the Dots

NOTE:

I don't think my post needs explanation. But yes, this is purely my opinion and my theory.

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Epitome

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Baat se Baat - II

“Ye baat se baat kaise hoti hai?”

“Wo baatein jo tumhare samne nahi ho pati.”

‘Kuon? Meri maujudgi tumhe rokti hai?”

“Nahi. Bus haawee hojati hai.”

“Samjha nahi.”

“Tum samne hote ho tau mere khayalat aur alfaz aapas main jhagarne lagte hain.”

“Main tumhe pareshan karta hun?”

“Hargiz nahi. Bus haawee hojate ho.”

“Mujhe kuon is main se ilzam ki boo aati hai?

“Ilzam nahi haqeeqat hai. Tumne muhabbat main logon ko apna aap, apni zindagi waar’te dekha hai. Main’e apni infiradi’yat tum per waar di hai.”

“Tum mujh main gum ho?”

“Nahi, main tum main shamil hun. Gum tau wo hote hain jin ki manzil nahi. Tum se tau mera safar shuru hota hai.”

“Phir ye baatein mujh se alag kuon?”

“Alag hain tau kya? Hain tau tumhari baatein……… Bus soch humari se meri hojati hai.”

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"یہ بات سے بات کیسے ہوتی ہے؟"

"وہ باتیں جو تمہارے سامنے نہیں ہو پاتی "

"کیوں ؟ میری موجودگی تمھیں روکتی ہے ؟"

"نہیں! بس حاوی ہوجاتے ہو ."

"میں سمجھا نہیں."

"تم سامنے ہوتے ہوتو میرے خیالات اور الفاظ آپس میں جھگڑنے لگتے ہیں"

"میں تمھیں پریشان کرتا ہوں؟"

"نہیں! بس حاوی ہوجاتے ہو"

"مجھے کیوں اس میں سے الزام کی بو آتی ہے؟"

"الزام نہیں حقیقت ہے. تم نے لوگوں کو محبّت میں اپنا آپ ، اپنی زندگی وارتے دیکھا ہے. میں نے اپنی انفرادیت تم پر وار دی ہے."

"تم مجھ میں گم گیئ  ہو؟"

"نہیں! میں تو تم میں شامل ہوں. گم تو وہ ہوتے ہیں جن کی منزل نہیں. تم سے تو میرا سفر شرو ہوتا ہے."

"پھر یہ باتیں مجھ سے الگ کیوں ؟"

"الگ ہیں تو کیا؟ ہیں تو باتیں.......بس سوچ ہماری سے میری ہوجاتی ہے."

#بانوسازی  

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Pakistan (Egypt) Un(Changed)

For the last 8 days, my routine is to go home and stick to BBC to watch uprising in Egypt. It is the country in which I spent good 4 months i.e. July – November in 2010 only.

When I was leaving Cairo two months back, I had all the plans to re-visit the city. Not only for the people I have befriended there but the place itself is lovely. Cairo is indeed one of the best combinations where you have the civilization meeting modernization. It is hard to believe that Cairo, the city that never sleeps, now doesn’t stop burning.
During my stay there, I had to come in terms that any Egyptian I meet will not be happy with Mubarak’s regime and want to leave the country soonest. Also, I learned that do not discuss politics or be opinionated in public places. You may discuss anything but do not touch politics as you don’t know where and who is Mubarak’s man.

A very close Egyptian friend used to curse the dictatorship and had various stories from here and there that how this regime is eating his country. In response, all I used to tell him that not all the dictators are like that. To which he always agreed and said, ‘Pakistan may be the only country that flourished in every mean after 1999 military takeover’.
Egypt’s uprising has also risen a concern in Pakistan if we ever going to witness such change. I plainly say, no. Change comes to those who feel the need for it and ready to accept it.

Pakistan is the nation which is divided in the name of sects, language, ethnicity and what not. A divided nation can never witness a revolution or change; we always witness a takeover. On the streets of Cairo, people from all classes and backgrounds are claiming their rights. Moreover, Egyptians living abroad are also supporting their people.

Do Pakistanis have the courage to leave their comfort zone and come on the streets?

Every day, there are not less than 2 rape or abuse cases are reported in media. Food and health necessities are either missing from the sight or being sold at the highest price. Thousands of employees are getting sacked and industries shut down for months now. To all this, the nation reciprocates by becoming criminals.

The frustration of all the above is either taken out by raping a 2-year-old or by killing your own family.

We are definitely heading towards a change; a change in morals and values. We all literate people can do only yap, yap on talk shows, curse politicians, blame feudalism, abuse government, but we will never step out of our houses.

Pakistanis cannot bring the change, let alone be the change.



P.S. I too am a Pakistani.

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Welcome to Client Services

While talking to a friend in the office, I enlightened her with one of my mid-day philosophy. These philosophies occur to me usually when am consumed by client. I think people who are in the same industry will be in agreement with this.

They don’t have a choice :)

“Keeping a client happy is like keeping your in-laws happy.”

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