Providence 2009

The trees are a little way away from this building, separated by an oversized parking lot. But even though, and perhaps because, the trees are so far, one can hear the sweet calls of various birds from time to time, especially in the dead of night; which is strange. Birds are usually not up so late. Maybe that's also part of man's contribution toward the disturbance of the echosystem?
It's very late at night and the din of the traffic has died out. It's very very quiet; just ten minutes before midnight, and I can hear this persistent, most sweetest of all, song of a solitary bird. Its musical, whistling melody is most soothing to the soul. I stop reading and listen to the bird. Its tone and syllables rise and fall as they ride the wind. Wonder what bird it is? It sounds exotic. I wonder if it is too restless, or too restful at this hour of the night. It has been singing for the past hour now and I wonder who will fall asleep first; the bird or I?

An Eventful Journey

It was hard to say goodbye to my children yet one more time. I had spent a few wonderful months with them and it was now time to move on to my next destination. This time it was Toronto, Canada where my sister lives.
So I gave one final hug to my darling granddaughters and my dear son and wiping my teary eyes, sat down in the car next to my dear daughter in law. My flight was in the afternoon but I had to leave early as my daughter in law would be dropping me off before going to her work.
It was an hour's drive which we spent talking about various things. Before we knew it, we were taking the exit for the airport. My daughter in law helped me with the bags and check-in after which we said goodbye. "God bless my son and his family and keep them all safe," I prayed in my heart.
Having rid myself of the heavy bag, I walked towards the security section. I was grateful when I emerged safely on the other side. Security check can be a harrowing experience and the only way to stay relaxed through the process is to remember that it is a necessary operation for the safety of all passengers. Who wants to find himself on a flight sitting next to a terrorist?
Soon I was heading towards the gate assigned to my flight. I found a seat and settled down with the book I had borrowed from my son to keep myself busy during those hours of waiting. I couldn't read beyond a few pages before my head started to nod and my eyes closed. I had been up since 3:00 am; it was Ramzan, the Islamic Holy month of fasting. I just rested my head against the back of the seat and napped. This exercise would be repeated at least  a few times over the next five hours. Around 1:00 pm, I got up and walked upto the computer screen where the information about my flight was at display. Thank God it was on time; 1:35 pm. But what seemed very odd was the fact that I could not see a plane at the end of the boarding gate. No sooner had I found my seat again, did they announce that my flight was cancelled because of bad weather in New York. Imagine the anxiety of the passengers at that moment because many of us had to take a connecting flight from NY. I got in touch with my son and also with the airline I was booked with. Thank God I found out that they had transferred my booking to another airline that would take me to Toronto straight from Hartford airport where I was. I was obviously relieved, but there was one little glitch there; the flight was leaving in about forty minutes; which meant that I had to go back to the ticket counter, get my bag checked in on the new flight, go through security check again and still make it in time to board the plane. Well there was not much choice was there?
I literally ran my way back to the ticketing counter, and after explaing the situation, got my new boarding pass. My bag had been checked in at 8:00 am that morning and now I had to retrieve it and get it on the Air Canada flight. I was more than a little relieved to find out that, because the previous plane had been late, my bag was still in the hold. I don't know what would have happened if they had had to unload it off the plane. Still it seemed to be taking the gentleman forever to retrieve it from the hold. Bless the young woman at the counter who, sensing my fretful behaviour and anxiety, offered to bring the bag to the Air Canada terminal and told me to hurry on there myself. Again I ran to the place and explained my position to the man behind the counter, at the same time displaying my new boarding pass. Regardless of the urgency I was feeling because of lack of time, the person refused to check me in saying he had no information I was on that flight. I had to suggest to him to check in his system and find out. In the meantime, true to her word, the young lady appeared with my suitcase. "Luckily", the Air Canada person found my transfer on his system and agreed to check me in. Much relieved, but still a long way from my ordeal being over, now I had to run back to the security check.
 If I had any hope that it would be easier the second time around in the same day, it was quickly and efficiently dashed by the relaxed attitude of the security guards I ran into. I kept repeating that I had a flight to catch in less than ten minutes but it was as if I were talking a foreign language. And the fact that I was wearing shoes with laces, had on a belt around my waist, was wearing an overcoat, had a shawl around my neck and carried a sweater on my arm did not really help. Anyway, I thought the best way to deal with the situation was to stay calm and not create any suspicion in the minds of the people I was dealing with. I was praying constantly under my breath and looked obviously relieved when I was again on my way to the new gate. I was running again and was endlessly grateful to God for granting me the strength to be doing so. Inevitably, I was reminded of the words of my orthopaedic surgeon who, years ago, had told my husband after my accident that I would never be able to run again and would be lucky if I could even walk straight. God's mercy and my loved ones' prayers had definitely worked the magic which enabled me to reach the gate in the nick of time. Imagine my indignant annoyance when I heard the same airline guy tell me, " You can relax now, we haven't started boarding yet. " I looked at the clock; it was only five minutes to the flight time. As soon as I put my stuff down and sat down, boarding was announced; so along with some other passengers, I started walking to the gate.
My surprises had not come to an end yet. As I reached the end of the chute that connects to the plane, I noticed that instead of an aircraft, there was only a step ladder attached to it. I could not believe my eyes, as after walking on the tarmac, we were led to the smallest of planes one could imagine. Uuughhh, excuse me? Is this the plane that was going to fly me on an international flight all the way to Toronto? And in this bad weather? What choice had I but to keep walking. As I reached the plane, horror of horrors; I noticed I did not have the sweater on my arm any more. Excusing myself to the crew member standing there, I retraced my steps, and sure enough, there was my sweater, lying on the ground. Picking it up, again I ran towards the plane. I handed my boarding pass to the officer who was checking them; but wait. Murphy struck yet again, and a gust of wind blew the boarding pass out of my  hand and landed it, very conveniently, under the belly of the aircraft!!! It was just unbelievable!!In my total nervousness, I made a move to retrieve it, only to be stopped by the kind officer who told me to proceed into the plane while he got my boarding pass. I went up the ladder and finding a seat, settled down. There were just about fourteen passengers on the plane. As the engines revved into life, the flight attendent began explaining the safety rules and the exit strategy in case of an emergency. It seemed like a joke to me because I was thinking; there's no way anyone is going to survive if this thing goes down. As the plane started to taxi down the runway, the flight attendent announced that the rear of the plane was so heavy that the weight imbalance could cause major problems during flight. The solution? One of the two very fat passengers sitting in the rear would have to move up to a seat in the front.
And I was thinking...what if this had gone unnoticed? My mind, exhausted as it was from the whole day's proceedings, refused to think what could have happened.
Finally the plane took off and we were airborne. All through the flight, the plane flew at a height of just ten thousand feet and I could see the land and water very clearly below. Sometimes the turbulance shook the small aircraft so badly that I gripped the sides of my seat and prayed. Despite everything, the plane finally landed safely which brought the nightmare to an end. Never before was I so glad, and so grateful to put my feet back on the ground.

Heart Or Mind???

The seat of all intelligence, feelings and emotions is the human brain. It is also the centre of wishes, desires, likes and dislikes. It is quite likely that the brain is also the 'home' of our soul. For all our knowledge and learning is an experience of the soul.
Why then is it, that we involve the heart in activities which are clearly the undertakings of the brain? eg. when we say that 'we must choose between the heart and the mind', or that 'our heart tells us differently than does our mind', we only mean that two separate parts of our brain guide us in two different ways. The only two things in conflict are the 'intelligence' and the 'emotions', not the heart and the brain.
The heart, though an extremely vital organ in the human body, is incapable of thinking. The heart is given the function of purifying the human blood and circulating it throughout the body.
So when we feel that our heart desires a certain thing, we are merely being guided by the emotional part of our brain. The other part of the same organ which is responsible for more processed and intelligent decisions, steers us away from frivolous desires and pursuits.
It is time we stop blaming the poor heart for our wrong decisions, or giving it credit for our wisdom of choice.

Pas Che Bayad Kard???

Man is born a gregarious animal. It is not in his nature to be isolated from the rest of his race and when that happens it is hard for him to survive or flourish.
Man is not a self-sufficient creature and needs the support of others throughout life. His interdependence on others can be judged by the mere fact that a human child takes the longest of all creatures to learn to look after himself. And if he is forced to live away from loved ones, his emotional dependence and affinity keeps him closely entwined with them. This is why a person who chooses to live by himself is often teased and stigmatized with titles like 'hermit' and 'loner'. Such a person is looked at with skepticism and mistrust. People wonder at his sanity and try to avoid his company.
Man on his own cannot achieve much in life. On the other hand, when he pools his mental and physical abilities with others, mega miracles are achieved.
The human soul must mingle with others in order to reach the sublime heights of acquisition in any given field of life. Man must live a life which is more expansive in approach to various things. It is only through the experiences and perspectives of others that we come to know of areas which we may not encounter in a direct way. The joys and sorrows of others have much to teach us. Their tragedies often help diminish our own pain and suffering, and their joys and quests inspire us to strive harder and to keep up our hope and faith.
Mixing and associating with others gives us a vantage point in life. It gives us opportunity for unique experiences and thus unique memories. A person who refuses to allow others to enter his life is an unfortunate soul. Such a person can only have an isolated outlook on life because he does not have the privilege of having others contribute to his experiences.
The experience of meeting people is like the flowing water of a river; for it allows the flow of fresh thoughts to pass through our lives. Contrary to this, life lived in a cocoon of isolation is like the putrid rancid water of a stagnant pool, and can only give rise to a character which is the same. Just like such water is a breeding space for disease and pollution, an isolated soul gives rise to contempt and hatred, self-righteousness and conceit. Isolation renders the human soul incapable of magnanimity and understanding, of love and sacrifice, of accommodation and generosity. This in turn produces a monster who believes himself to be right and above board in all he does. He believes his own deeds as the ultimate achievement of success. He believes that his approach to life, and toward religion and God, is correct which becomes the biggest catalyst to his lethargy and failure to further advancement through effort and perseverance.
They say that an enemy is your best friend if he points out your weaknesses to you, and a friend who hides them from you does you the greatest dis-service. So when we share our experiences with others and allow them to criticize us, we must realize that we are going through a process of self-improvement and evolution. When we look around us, we see everybody in the shape of the evolved human species. But in actual fact, very few are eligible for the title of 'human'. Only those who accommodate and adjust to the changing times and factors of life are the ones who are evolving constantly and acquiring the supreme characteristics of the human being that God planned to put behind the steering wheel of this planet.
If we go into isolation and concern ourselves only with the well-being and interests of our self, we will be responsible for the decay of first the family unit and then the entire society. If we sit in a darkened room and spend hour upon hour rolling the beads between our fingers, how many people will benefit from this ritual? How will it help feed the hungry children in our neighbourhood? And how will it save the down-trodden of the society from further exploitation and degradation?
Our religion does not ask us to waste our time in rituals; rather, it compels us to go out and help improve the lives of our fellow human beings. Feed the hungry, clothe the naked, educate the ignorant. But the Muslims of today have isolated their own interests from the interests of humanity. We seem to be concerned only with our own betterment and salvation. But we must not forget; turning beads in dark isolation will bring salvation neither to the nation nor to us. Islam is a religion of practise and deeds, of 'amal' and 'ilm'.
The meaning of the title of my essay is: 'So What Needs Be Done?'
And here lies the answer: instead of isolating it, we need to mingle our soul with those of others in the world around us. The need of the hour is 'ilm' ie. knowledge, and 'amal' ie. is practice. Without the employment of these, we will remain an incongruous tribe of ignorant people isolated and far removed from the path of reality. At the end of our journey, we will realize that our isolation benefited us neither in this world nor will it redeem us from God's wrath in the next.

Free Will or Destiny???

It is often very hard, sometimes impossible to understand how things work in our life. On the one hand we are told that our life has been pre-planned and that we cannot escape destiny. On the other hand, we are held responsible for our actions and every decision we make.
True that our destiny has been written in The Safe Book of God, even before we are born, and even though sometimes it seems like we are driven by some unknown hand, we really are making our decisions consciously and of a free will. Why should we be punished for our bad deeds if they are not our own; and why should we expect to be rewarded for our good actions if all that we are doing is follow a preordained agenda of fate?
We know that God created all human spirits at one time. He then took an oath of allegience and total submission from each spirit. According to the Quran all spirits consented to accept and submit to God's every command. This makes them all Muslim, as the word 'muslim' means 'one who submits to the will of God'.
After years of pondering over this strange phenomenon, I have come to a conclusion of sorts, which not only clears a lot of ambiguity, it also brings peace to the mind. This is what I feel.
After all the spirits were created, they were shown their entire future life in a flash; a small task for the Almighty. The spirits were presented with every opportunity that their life on earth would present them with. Then they were given their options, and the free will to choose the path of their preference. Whatever choice the spirit made, was then recorded in The Book of Fate and marked as our 'destiny'.
This means that our spirits have already 'lived' their life once before and have made their choices. But they do not remember, just like they do not remember their existence in heaven before coming to live on earth in the form of a human.
God has knowledge of what path we will follow in life as our spirit has already made her choices. This explains why we shall be held responsible for our deeds. If we blame our destiny, we blame our spirit and hence the blame falls indirectly on us, as we are our spirit. So even when we say that we are victims of our destiny, we are still responsible for the decisions we take as these are the decisions taken by our spirit.
Unfortunately, the privilege of free will was given to our spirit long before we became concious of it, and as soon as it exercised this free will, the decision was stamped down as a final deed, and as our destiny. This is why we sometimes feel that we cannot really plan our future, as it has already been planned for us. All we can do is to set out on a path and meet the consequences. This is the extent of planning we can do.
Events, happenings will sort themselves out as we move along and as time passes. We are just like a herd of cattle or sheep. They wander all day in the fields, scattered and spread out in search of food. As evening approaches, they head back home. Just like them, we the humans live in this worldly life, struggling and striving. We all go our haphazard and busy courses, and all the time, with every passing moment, we are drawn towards our home, our eternal life, our Creator.
We often wonder why God causes some to prosper and progress while others remain captives of their destiny. The truth is that we are all captives of our destiny; driven on our path by the choices our spirit has made. We have formed our destiny ourselves and the only way it can be changed is by the Divine intervention of God's mercy and benevolence.
And so it is that we must bow our head before our Captor and silently but constantly remind ourselves to be humble, as captives must be. For He is the One and Only who can set us free.

Faith!!!

For a person who has no faith, it may be the hardest thing to understand what it is, but at the same time, a person who is blessed with it may find it the most natural thing and in fact a vital componant of his fabric.
What is the active factor in a bird's mind when he flaps his wings and takes off from a cliff? How does he know that he will soar upward into the depths of the sky, and not drop to his death on the rocks below? It is his faith that helps him take his chances with his life.
Faith gives you power over the odds in life. It brings clarity of mind and ideas. When you have faith, you can take on challenges and overcome the fear of failure. Wishes that are supported by a strong faith are always easier to achieve. Having faith is like a child holding the hand of his parent when crossing a street. He knows that his parent will see him safely to the other side and not let harm come his way. When we place our faith in God, we know that He will watch over us and guide us on the right way.
Faith is strength. Faith is vision, for it lends us the ability to see the possibilities of life ahead.
A life without Faith is like a body without soul; and what is a body without soul but a mere skeleton; an empty cage without a song bird.
A person without faith is like a traveller without a compass; a student without a teacher. Having faith adds pleasure and satisfaction to our every endeavour in life. It gives us hope and a destination to walk towards. A faithless person believes that there is no life after death. To him, life on this planet is all God has to offer us. It is not hard to imagine how insipid and limited such a person's existence must be. How sad and pitiful for such a being to think that the experiences of his life here, just a few years if viewed in the scheme of things, is all that he was created for. That when he adheres to his base qualities, there will be no accountability for his misdeeds and no punishment for him. And if on the other hand he conducts himself on a path of righteousness and lives in fear of God, there will be no reward for his hardships and sacrifice. If we believe in God's blessing and mercy, we must also believe that He will judge and we will face the consequences which are drafted by our life in this world.
True that we see many things around us which do not make any sense to us. But we must not forget that man is born with limited capabilities. Our power to see and understand is in no way sufficient for us to decipher the codes and mysteries of Creation. We must acknowledge our humble existence and embrace the truth. Faith is that certain things must be left alone with the acceptance that everything makes sense to the Creator and He does nothing without purpose.
Faith is always accompanied with peace and harmony, joy and hope. It gives meaningful purpose to life. It lends beauty and a certain grandeur to our existence. It provides embellishment to humanity and brings it closer to Divine reality. Those who live without faith, might just as well have been sheep or cattle with no direction and no purpose; born only to feed their bodies and starve their souls.

Jehed-e-Musalsil

Vohee havaa hai, vohee chaman hai,
Vohee sitaaray falak pe raqsaaN.

Vohee fizaaoN maiN KHushbuaiN haiN,
Vohee zameeN hai jo ser b girdaaN.

Hai hasratooN ka paimana lebraiz,
HazaroN dil maiN posheeda toofaaN.

Kee laaKH koshish-e-zabt laikin,
Hain PHir BHee motee b nok-e-miZHgaaN.

Hua yeh asr us kee bay ruKHee ka,
Keh BHoolay rehguzar-e-shehr-e-janaaN.

Vohee nigaahoN maiN ashk paihum,
Vohee dareeda-o- chaak giraibaaN.

Agar hai Kaa'ba nazar maiN to kia,
Jo paak dil na ho tera az butaaN.

ABHee to manzil maiN dooriaN haiN,
Bohot musaafat aBHee hai dermiaN.

Talatum-e-ishq-o-KHirud musalsil,
Hai jis pay inhisaar-e-kaar-e-insaaN.

Hai Chaltay rehnay maiN kamyaabee,
Rahay jo paivasta-e-kaarvaaN.

Usay pukaaraiN to kia pukaaraiN,
Keh saamnay hai magar hai pinhaaN.

Yeh apnee bay daanishee kee hud hai,
Keh jis ko doost samJHa, THa dushman-e-jaaN.

"The Candle In The Window"

The sunshine of Your love bathes me,

When the dark clouds of despair hound me.

You play the sweet melody of hope to me,

When dejection and gloom surround me.

Your love is the crystal brook of my life,

That bounces off the jagged rocks beneath.

And continues to sing on merrily,

Undaunted, unstopped, unabashed and free.

You talk to my soul when no one does,

You lend me an ear when no one does.

All thought that is virtuous comes not but from You,

All hope that keeps me afloat is a gift from You.

You are the sail of my ship,

You are the wind in the sail.

You are my strength and my wings,

You are the wind beneath my wings.

I see not a flower that I don't see You in,

Not a speck of dust that You do not reflect in.

You are in every rustling sound of the leaves,

You are in the song of the whispering breeze.

Each wave that crashes against the shore,

Sings of the mighty glory of Your power.

As it rushes in and ebbs away,

Taking its treasures to the floor.

The setting sun and the rising moon,

In silent submission to Your command,

Never fail to follow, one the other;

Without a question, without demand.

You are the beauty in the face of a baby,

You are the wondrous thought in a noble heart.

You are in love, You are in charity,

You are in every act of nobility.

Every bird that sings, sings of You,

Every star that shines, a reflection of You.

Every branch, every leaf that sprouts in spring,

Your manifestation, each blossom on the twig.

You are the fragrance in every flower,

Every colour in the rainbow is You.

Each drop of rain that softens the heart,

Of a hardened soil, is naught but You.;

You are the noble thought that flashes across,

A pitiless heart, a soul deprived.

You are the tears of a bleeding heart,

You are the joy of a peaceful mind.

You are the fire that melts the soul,

You are the spirit inside the soul.

You are the candle in the window,

That guides my path and drives me home.

It may be I seem to be alone,

But in fact it is never so.

For You are always by my side,

You are always the Other of the two.

KHak Ke Zarray

Hava maiN uRtay yeh KHak ke zarray,
Na janay kis kee haiN KHak ke zarray.

Her aik zarray maiN hai SHabeeh nihaN,
Ye kis ka laKHt-e-jigar THa, ye kis kee jaN.

HazaaroN saal se haiN vohee mah-o-saal,
Ke jin kee haqeeqat ka soCHna hai muhaal.

Ya Ilaahee bata ye maajra kia hai?
Ke jis KHak se uTHa THa KHameer, vaheeN ka hua.

"YaadaiN"

Hava ke dosh pe uRtee uRtee

Yeh kaisee yaadaiN sataa rahee haiN.

Voh kitney beetay dinoN kee yaadaiN

Voh bachpanay kay dinoN kee baataiN.

Voh din jo maa'soomiat maiN guzray,

Kisee bhee JHanjat binaa jo beetay.

Voh apnee CHHotee see piyari dunya,
THa jis maiN koi na GHam na faqa.

THay kitnay sustay shuGHal voh apnay,
Na koi lumhay muqarrar un kay.

Jo jee maiN aya to ho lieay KHUsh,
Na suBHa kee qaid, na shaam ka hosh.

KaBHee deevaroN pe CHaRRh ke baiTHay,
KaBHee daraKHtoN maiN CHHup ke KHalay.

Voh garmeoN kee jalee dopehraiN,
Voh serdeoN kee haseen shamaiN.

Voh GHoNsloN maiN reKHay 'undoN' ko,
UTHa ke hathoN maiN GHaur kerna.

BaRee muhabbat se PHir vaheeN pe,
UnHay jama ke vo laut anaa.

Voh titleoN ko pakeR pakeR ke,
Azad Phir se hava maiN kerna.

GHanay daraKHtoN ke saey maiN voh,
Kitab lay ke mudhosh hona.

KahaaN voh lumhay gaey suhaanay,

Voh jo THay merey giraN  KHazanay.

Hui haiN yaadaiN meree sahailee,

Yeh umr-e-rafta kee haiN pahelee.

KaBHee jo dil ho udaas mera,

KaBHee jo GHao ho jaaN pe gehra.

Yeh yaadaiN mera haiN dil LuBHatee

Meree nazar se guzartee jatee.

Ye rooh perver puraanee yaadaiN,

Gaey dinoN kee suhaanee yadaiN.

I was going to travel soon. It was very exciting and I looked forward to my flight in about a month from the day. Just as I was going through the travel documents, I was horrified to discover that my passport was expiring in two months. I would not be able to travel on this one as airlines require that your passport be valid for at least six months from the date of travel. I would have to get a new passport!!!

As a first step, I went online to check the requirements and procedure on the official website of the Pakistan Embassy. From what I gathered, it did not look to be very daunting. All I needed was my original ID card and my old passport, and my physical presence at the office. It looked very simple at the face of it.

After enough discourse, it was decided that in order to get the passport back in time, my son would have take the day off from work and take me to the Consulate of Pakistan in New York on Monday.

This also happened to be the first day of Ramzan. Even though I had clarified with the clerk at the office about Ramzan timings, I thought it would be prudent to make sure one more time. And so I called. There was no answer. I called again...and again...and again; still no answer. It was now close to 9:30 AM. Somebody should have been in the office half an hour ago. It was very disappointing. Finally when I did get a response, I was told to be there before 12:30, or else my application would not be entertained. Coming from someone who suffered from tardiness himself, that was a strange request.

 It was kind of rush hour time, but my son managed to reach us at the Consulate before 11:00 AM. Because it was Monday, there was not even a slim chance of finding a parking place close to the office, so we decided that I should go in and get the work done while my son waited outside in the car. It was hot in NY and I felt guilty but it seemed to be the only option.

I got out of the car and looked up at the building and the green and white flag hanging over the main entrance. I felt a sudden warmth and pride at seeing my flag but something clutched at my heart. My feeling of joy was a little jaded as I noticed that the flag's edges were tattered and the colour faded; almost a reflection of the nation's condition at present. I went inside; it was as if I was not in Manhattan NY, but in some mis-managed, ill kept government institution back home.

The first thing that hit me was the absence of would be visa seekers. Except for one Greek looking elderly gentleman, there was not a soul to be seen in the visa section. Nobody wants to visit my country, I thought. How sad that the world knows only the dark side of the people there, and has no opportunity to find out what the place is actually like. But we have only ourselves to blame. Sigh!!!

People who were there for the same purpose as I was ie. passport renewal, were either sitting or standing in the inadequately furnished small room. There was no concept of a queue, or the order of 'first come first served'. After making sure I was not cutting ahead of anybody out of my turn, I approached the window. The unsmiling, curt gentleman on the other side ordered, "original passport and ID". I produced them from my bag and pushed them through the small opening in the glass. "Photo copy of both". I said I didn't have any so he told me to go to another section of the room where I saw a phtocopying machine. After a few futile, abortive attempts, I asked a gentleman for assistance and finally managed to make the required copies. I went back to the window where my spot had conveniently been taken over, or given over, to a gentleman. After a few minutes the clerk was gracious enough to accept my papers after which he thundered, " money order ". When I showed signs of confusion as to where to get the money order from, he directed me to go outside the building, turn right and decend down a staircase into the basement. Following the instructions I reached a small room where I found this small lady perched on a high stool behind the window. Dressed in a blue sequined dress, her eyelids painted just as blue, she was talking to some relative or friend long distance. When I extracted my bank card to make the payment, she barked in a monosylable,"cash"! I told her I was not carrying any cash on me to which she unsmilingly said, "go and get it from a bank". As if there was any other place I could get it from.

 I had no choice but to exit the building and find an ATM machine where I could get the required cash. Luckily I found one just a block away. I walked over and got the money and came back to the 'lady in blue', whose mood was even bluer. She made the money order and charged a few dollars as fee. Taking the certificate of payment, I came back to the main building once again and handed it to the man behind the window. He took it from me, stapled it to the previous documents, and started dealing with the next customer, without giving me further instructions. I waited for about ten minutes and then asked him what he wanted me to do. He handed back all the papers to me and told me to go to another section in the building where they were going to take up the process from there.

Thankfully,this section was slightly more civilized and looked and smelled cleaner.

Anyway, I walked through a couple of glass doors and came upon this office where three gentlemen sat working a little more professionally. There was more order here too; people were waiting to be called for their turn at the official's desk. When I was called, I approached the table and was asked to be seated. Again I was asked to show the passport and ID card, which I did. The young officer asked me if I also had the NICOP because the data on the screen showed him that I had one. So when I told him I did, he told me to get a photocopy of that too; which I did, without assistance this time :)

Then I was fingerprinted and photographed and asked to verify the details I had supplied.

After one and a half hour and being robbed of $125, I emerged from the building to see my son patiently waiting in the car, in the summer heat of NY, bless him.

As I sat in the car and fastened my seat belt, I could not help but reflect on what had transpired inside the building that carried the name of Pakistan and flaunted the flag of the country we belong to.

Why was I charged $120 instead of $46? I was in no rush as my travel date was a month away.The Consulate's website said the normal handling was ten to fifteen days with a fee of $46, and urgent fee was $120 which would reduce the processing time to three to four days. But the officials at the office disclosed that the normal delivery time could take three weeks or longer and the urgent processing time was ten to fifteen days. Why was the information on the official website conflicting with the actual procedure in the office? Why were there no instruction signs put up in the various departments? Why was it not possible to pay by card, as is the case in all civilized offices? And why did the 'blue lady in blue' charge me more than she did some others? Why was she even in the picture at all? Who was benefitting from another agency which was making profits on money that should be going straight into the coffers of the government?Why is our government staff not trained to handle customers with more respect and civility?

When will we start taking pride in ourselves as a nation? When will we decide that a country develops only when each citizen focuses at least as much on giving back as he does on extracting from her? When will we, as a nation, conciously conduct ourselves in a manner befitting a proud, independent, sovereign country? Are we lesser human beings that it does not occur to us?

All these questions have only one answer; we have become so irredeemably selfish, incompetent and dishonest that we do not care. We have become the proverbial cabbage leaf that the raindrops slide off without wetting.

Let us stop and think. Unless we change our ways, we cannot improve anything. We have lost the few good values and practices that we used to follow fifty sixty years ago. Filth, chaos, intolerance and uncivil behaviour have become our hallmarks.

We have to stop the apathy that we find ourselves steeped in. We have to work very hard to make our country what it has the potential to be; a Jewel. We must realize that every moment of our official time belongs to our nation. We have no right to usurp it to our own ends.

We have to allow new ideas to flow in so that we can shed the myopic vision we have all fallen prey to. We have to prove the present day concept of the world about us wrong. Our country is a precious piece of land where we have every blessing under the sky available to us. We have beautiful people inhabiting the various regions of our beautiful land. Let us not label them with any classification except 'Pakistani'; for that is what we are. Let us make it safe for people of the world to visit our country and discover the unlimited charms it has to offer; the ocean, the rivers and valleys, the majestic mountains in the north and the sprawling deserts in the south.

Let us not forget that our country is the only home we have. We have our roots here, why not make sure that we have our fruits here too. Let us remind ourselves of the dreams of Allama Iqbal and Quaid-e-Azam and work towards their fulfillment.

We have gained so much from Pakistan; let us start giving something back to her.

Let us give a new voice, a new face to our country. We already have more than most countries do, to build on.

Let us make it the 'jewel' it can be.

We are proud to be Pakistani; let Pakistan be proud of us too.

From the movie, "A Beautiful Mind"

"I have made the most important discovery of my career.......

It is only in the mysterious equations of love, that any logical reason can be found.

I'm only here because of you.

You are the reason I am.

You are all my reasons!"

Untitled

Your love is the pillar I lean against,

It is the anchor that holds me in place.

Like the spring blossoms on a cherry tree,

You bring me hope of eternity.

Your love will set my spirit free,

Breaking the shackles of despondency.

My soul is content in the fountain of your love,

Secure in the knowledge You watch from above.

She knows she will join You in heaven one day,

Long after she has departed from the world she knows.

Oh, how will it be?

In a world un-known?

"Why?"

Why is it that you leave me so?

Blind and stumbling, groping and falling?

Why do you make me suffer so?

A wounded heart, a seared soul?

Why is my joy always jaded by grief?

Oh, why is my laughter, my peace so brief?

" Voyages of The Mind "

My wishes have no bearing on how Nature runs this universe, and I am quite aware of this; but what to do about the fact that I belong to the strange species called 'humans' and am predisposed to falling prey to unnatural urges and desires. I know that life is short, and time here limited. I also know that today will soon be yesterday,and become a link in history. But I want my days to linger; I want my yesterdays back. I wish for a vehicle which will transport me over the years back to my childhood days. But I have no such facility, except the vehicle of my thoughts and memories. And so I go on these escapades to flee from the chaos of my life and to take refuge in the warmth and safety of my childhood.

As I smell the heady fragrance of the sweet peas and narcissus that grow in my garden, I embark upon a sweet journey into my past. I close my eyes and see myself a little girl in another garden in another time, where I pick the sweet peas and narcissus to make a bouquet for my mother.

Ah, my dear, dear mother! I can see her sitting in her favourite wicker chair under the shade of the old oak tree, right in the middle of the garden; either reading an English classic or knitting; two of her favourite passtimes. I want to reach out and touch her, but I can only see her from afar; for that is how far my powers will take me, and no further.

The musty but refreshing smell of the first drops of monsoon rain as they hit the dry, parched earth, transports me to summers of my childhood. Somehow they seem so different now. The sun did not scorch the mind and body as it does now. The screeching call of the mynah bird and the incessant calls of the crows did not jar the senses and seem almost romantic in the distant memories.

Our spirits were alive, our souls restless. We could not be confined by walls and rules. Despite the daily ritual of my mother telling us to rest, every afternoon saw my brothers and me outside, quite unhampered by the sun and heat. Shinnying up the tall trees, collecting stones of different shapes, or finding and saving colourful feathers of pretty exotic birds were some of our favourite activities. Taking pity on the poor tadpoles for living in the murky pool in the backyard, we would transfer them to our bathtub feeling very proud and generous. We never understood why they died so soon after. Every day was an adventure; every act a lesson of discovery.

The sweet smell of burning wood carries me on a spiritual pilgrimage to visit places and people long lost to the passage of time. Even though we were used to living in the comforts of city life, spending summer with our grandparents was always a welcome news. They lived in a village called Maldive, not far from the famous fort of Rohtas. Visiting them meant experiencing a very different taste of life.

This was the time when there was no gas or electricity in the village. Food was cooked fresh on wood fire twice every day as there was no means of saving it from spoiling. Water was cooled in large earthen jars called 'mutkas' placed on wet sand for added cooling effect. Every morning we would wake up to the smell of burning logs laced with the delicious smell of 'parathas' being cooked in pure butter. To the young and hungry, that was the most inviting smell there could ever be.

We basked in the warmth of my grandmother's love as we were all very close to her. My brother and I would fight over who would get to sleep in her bed every night. We listened to her strange stories of djinns and spirits late into the night, and even though she repeated the same stories over and over again, we were never less enthusiastic and made sure we looked thrilled as if we were hearing them for the first time. Just the rapture of her closeness was enough for us.

Because there was no electricity in the village, hurricane lamps were brought out and polished and scrubbed every evening before dark. Another daily ritual was the carrying out of all the beds in to the lawn as it was too hot inside. Preparing beds for everybody must have been a daunting affair. They were carried out every evening one by one and then bedding spread on them. In order to ward off the mosquitoes, a special net was draped around each bed with the help of long iron poles, so that when they were ready, each bed looked like a little fortress set up against a common enemy, the tiny mosquito. Life was made especially cumbersome in case it decided to rain during the night, for everything had to be dragged hastily inside. Sometimes it hit early in the night and proved to be just a short burst of the clouds. Imagine the misery and dismay with which we were transported back outside. Only now, years later, can I look back and remember it all with a smile and a shake of my head....ugghh, crazy!!!

Sleeping under the stars was a fascinating experience in itself as it used to be quite a lesson in astronomy for us. It was also special bonding time with our parents and we tried to keep off sleep as long as we could so we could enjoy their attention longer. As we lay in our beds gazing up at the night sky, our father would show us 'stars' that moved and would explain how they were not stars at all. We listened in awe as he explained that they were man-made satellites orbiting the earth to gather information. Our mother would show us how to follow stars and join them to make various constellations and signs of the zodiac. She would also tell us stories related to them and how they came to be; a lesson in Greek Mythology. It is not without nostalgic emotion that I look up at the sky and recognize the Great Bear even today. The feeling is compounded by the irony that the sky and the stars have remain unchanged over the centuries, while the lives they gaze down upon undergo constant turmoil and are altered from moment to moment.

The chirping of beetles in the night reminds me of the time when we lived in Quetta. Those were peaceful times and Quetta was a beautiful city overlooked by two gigantic mountains called " Cheeltan " and " Murdar ". We would go for long walks with our parents after dinner. My brother and I would stop every now and then to examine and admire various types of beetles hovering around the street lamps or crawling on the ground. Occasionally we would hear the flapping of wings as birds flew off into the dark, and then we would hasten our step to catch up with our parents.

 I remember sitting behind my mother in the car and grabbing a corner of her 'dopatta' to see the distant lights through it. I can still feel the awe and magic of how the simple yellow light broke into all the colours of the rainbow as it passed through the silken strands of my mother's veil. It does not embarrass me to admit that I sometimes do that even now, if only to relive some of the pleasures of those innocent times.

Memories of my childhood are a cherished treasure and an integral part of my being. All those beautiful people who touched my life in so many ways and nurtured me with their unconditional love, have now gone away. But their rememberence keeps that love alive and guides me through my days.

Sometimes when life is slow, and time lingers, these memories rush in to fill the gaps and take me on many exotic voyages of the mind.

"Mother"

She is the strangest of God's Creations,

Beautiful and tender of heart and soul.

And though she may seem perfect in form,

There is one little blemish in her mould.

However may her soul be touched by life,

Tears will overflow the brims of her eyes.

She cries at every happy occasion,

She cries when her heart is ripped by pain.

Those around her watch her and wonder,

If all is well and she is not insane.

When you were little, she kissed your tiny feet,

Your cherub face, your smooth brow,

Your each little finger she held in awe.

Every time she folded you in her arms,

She thanked the boundless mercy of God.

You were the bundle of joy in her life,

Her peaceful refuge from troubles of life.

Your laughter was her reason to live,

The sweetest music to her ears.

And your tears, God forbid your tears!

Fell on her soul like molten fire.

When all was quiet and the world around her,

Lay shrouded in the blanket of deep slumber.

She lay awake despite her fatigue,

Keeping a silent vigil over you.

In her heart were endless desires,

Her wish was to see you grow a certain way.

She prayed you grow up kind and gentle,

Ready to forgive and eager to embrace.

She tried to reach you from the depth of her heart,

And teach you the value of humility;

For boughs that are heavy with abundant fruit,

Bend not but downward to the earth beneath.

She prayed you learn of the peace in forgiving,

As when you forgive you set yourself free,

From the bondage of baseness that sears the heart,

And shackles the spirit that is born free.

Her love was revealed in a thousand ways,

You understood some, while some were mystery.

You did not understand her scourge, her anger,

Why she did not fulfill your every fantasy.

It was her love for you my child,

That kept her from spoiling you with undue indulgence.

For she wished to prepare you for the difficulties of life,

She endeavoured to impart the art of acceptance.

Had she been unwise in her treatment of you,

Had she shown weakness of determination,

She would have done you no favour my dearest,

For you would have suffered the ramifications

Of her oversight and failure in rearing you.

Time is a bird that flies on swift wings,

And man may only witness the changes it brings.

Now you are grown up, enlightened and wise,

On the threshold of a new beginning of life.

It may be you are far, but in miles alone,

And never in loving heart or mind.

She knows you may have dreams of your own,

Not far removed from hers for you;

And so she prays every moment of her life,

She says a prayer and blows it your way,

So you are happy and you are safe,

And never wanting in the treasures of life.

Your every little trouble gives her sleepless nights,

Your every little wish becomes her mission in life.

She places her entire being, her very soul,

Into her silent supplications.

She is oblivious to all around,

Imploring, begging, forehead glued to the ground.

And when her prayers are heard and answered,

Again she finds her brow on the ground.

It is her desire that when she is old,

You will still love her and respect her the same;

That you will not lose your patience with her,

And you will be proud to bear her name.

That you will still seek her company,

And you will not shun her for senility.

There will be moments when you will find,

She will become a test for you my child.

It is then she hopes that you will be strong,

Will not lose heart and be gentle and kind.

Her only reward for her toils is your love,

In that is her pride and her gratification;

But that is an aspect of her love for you too,

For in your love for her will be salvation for you.

The Spring Streets Of My City

The chirping bird at my window sill,

Wakes me from my slumber deep.

The sweet smell of blossoms carried on the wind,

Plays on my senses no longer asleep.

Spring is here once again at last,

Awakening from the winter frost.

My streets are drowned in colour once more,

The dead brown trees are dead no more.

The gentle dawn breeze rustles the blooms,

And the branches heavy with their fragrant burden,

Shudder and sprinkle some of the encumbrance,

To colour the waiting earth below.

The noise of the birds nesting in the trees,

Rises and falls as it travels on the breeze.

People are taking a stroll on the streets,

Their spirits lifted by the unending treats.

The melody of the birds, the fragrant air,

The crispy freshness of the atmosphere,

The foliage of the old trees joining above

In canopies of deep and soothing shade.

The plentiful flowers blooming in their beds,

Unleash a sea of colours wild.

So the city becomes a heaven on earth,

An artist's pallette, an angel's ride.

The heart cannot but rejoice the sight,

For before too long they will be gone.

Leaving behind only memories,

Of spring in my streets and the endless delight.

You And Me!

Will I ever know?

Where I came from,

And where it is I go?

My past is shrouded,

In the folds of mystery,

And my future

I barely know.

In my heart I feel,

I was with You;

When I was not I,

But You were still You.

And so I wander,

From day to day,

Searching for 'me',

Only finding You!

In Praise Of Modern Parenting

I walked down the aisles in the book store, not particularly looking for anything. As I walked past endless shelves of books, one aisle that said " Parenting " caught my eye. I stopped and started browsing through the various titles under that heading. It was just amazing; there was not a single aspect of parenting that was not available in the form of books there. Every stage of parenthood was discussed and the authors had elaborated upon the subject in great detail.

These books provided information on everything, from how to hold a newborn baby to how to feed him and put him to bed. How to create a friendly environment around the baby and what to expect at different stages of his growth.

How wonderful, I thought, and how convenient for new parents, especially in today's fast world where lifestyles have changed so much. These books now do the job that grandparents used to do in olden days when joint family system was still the norm and grandmothers knew through experience what to do. They had remedies for everything. More than anything, they gave of their love freely and readily. Their affection was not regulated by the hours of day and night.

With the help of these books, parents are equipped with a sea of knowledge on how to bring up their children. Technically, this should help make them better parents than their own. But does it?

I must say here that I do not hold a grudge against most modern ideas, but I do feel that there should be a point where one should be able to draw the line; especially in a situation which involves something as precious as a little baby.

Every child is born unique. Not even siblings are too similar in their personality. How, then, can the same instructions from a book be followed to handle babies universally? The physical and emotional requirements of each child are different, and so they have to be treated differently too.

While these books are quite a treasure, one would be well advised to use them sparingly. Not every knowledge comes from books. Certain things come only with observation and handling.

Do not take away your baby's pacifier ( ie. in case you have taken the liberty to disobey the rules given in your book and given your baby a pacifier in the first place) just because the book says to do so at such and such age. If it 'pacifies' your baby, let him use it. There is no point in suddenly taking away an object from him which will only result in his howling and disrupting the peace of the entire household.

Does your baby want to cuddle you and sleep in your bed sometimes? Does she crawl into your bed in the middle of the night? Do you take her right back to her own crib because the book says that's the right thing to do? If you realize how soon time will fly and it will be time for her to leave home, you will let her enjoy the warmth of your love as long as possible.

Do not be too hasty to follow instructions given by a person sitting thousands of miles away, who does not even know your baby. You are her parents. Take the trouble to discover what your child needs.

Give your child the security and comfort that comes from your love and the warmth of your affection. Do not expect her to grow up faster than she should. She is entitled to go through different stages of life at her own pace. When you hasten her on, you may achieve what you desire but at the cost of something more precious which you may regret later.

Children, as they grow older, grow out of habits as they become concious of their oddity.

So, while you are measuring the quantity of his food intake to the last grain, try not to limit his requirement of love, attention and affection from you.

Nai Nasl Ke JavaanoN Ke Naam

Tiray darya maiN tuGHyani nahee hai,
Ke soCHoN maiN aBHee ravanee nahee hai.

TuJHay CHalna hai manzil hai bohot door,

Teray restay maiN aasanee nahee hai.

Raqam kernee hai tuJH ko ik nayee dastaaN

Nazar aatee hai jo, teree kahaanee nahee hai.

Teree lehraiN karaiN baataiN falak se,

Ke too THehraa hua paanee nahee hai.

THeherta hee nahee pal BHar ko BHee pal,
Guzar gayee jo GHaree laut ke aanee nahee hai.

Kamar ko baaNDH lay, uTHH ja, zamaanay maiN nikal,
THeher jaeygee, aisee chees javanee nahee hai.

MaiN hairaaN hooN ke ub tuk too ne dil maiN,

Apnee taqdeer badalnay kee THanee nahee hai.

KaraiN hum shoomi-e-qismat ka chercha her GHaRee,
Yeh sheva hai hamaraa, hukm-e-Rabbanee nahee hai.

JahaaN tuk soch pohonchay, teree dunya vaheeN hai,
Ke sochooN ka jahaaN faanee nahee hai.

Zamaanay ne banaya chaaNd ko GHar,

Jo sumJHay too, to kia teree ravish puraanee nahee hai?

Guzar to jaeygee bekaar baiTHHay BHee,

Magar yeh maqsad-e-zindagaanee nahee hai.

TuJHay baRhnaa hai aagay, aur aagay,

Muqarrar din yahaaN haiN, hayat-e-jaavedaanee nahee hai.

NaviSHta-e-dar-o-deevaar peRHH lay,

Ke yeh tehreer pinhaanee nahee hai.

CHuraya jee agar tu ne husool-e-ilm se,
To tu laaiq-e-sultaanee nahee hai.

SamBHal ja, aik ho ja, bun ke uTHH too aik ummat,
Vagarna maut teree marg-e-nagihaanee nahee hai.

The October Streets Of My City.....

The October streets of my beloved city,
Fragrant and sparkling after the autumn showers.
Drops of water from the recent rain,
Glistening like jewels at the end of bowers.

The red and yellow lights of the passing cars,
Reflected in the pools beside the road.
The water splashing and rising like a tide,
Whenever one drives too close to the side.

Fragile yellow leaves hang on to the branch,
Clinging to life though weakened by death.
One more gust of the chilly wind,
Sends them floating to the waiting earth.

The cold wind blows them through alleys and roads,
Conjuring them like an apt magician,
Picking them up and scattering them around,

Creating a musical rustling sound.

The air is heavy with more than moisture,
Laden with the rich smell of the soil.
The random crows and birds flying home,
Weary but content after the day's toil.

I walk on these streets, inhaling the beauty,
Looking up at the sky, at the evening star.

There is no place else I would rather be,

This is my city, my very own,

This is my home, most precious by far.

"Sabr"

Kitna asaan hai kehna ke haaN ker lo sabar,

KHoon ke GHoont pieyo, rooh pe reKH lo paTHer.

AanKH ho jaey lahoo, KHaak ho jaey jigar,

Rait ke zarroN kee tarah, toot ke sub jaey biKHar.

Dil pe JHelay CHalay jana, siskiyaaN dil maiN hee reKHna

Lub pe lana na shikayet, kaheeN ho jaey na kufr,

Rooh per laaKH lagaiN zaKHm, uski pervah nahee kerna,

Raasta aur nahee, yuNhee CHaltay CHalay rehna.

Aaeina-e-dil jo hua, kirCHi kirCHi kia hua,

DuKH uTHanay ke lieay, dil pe sehnay ke lieay,

Paida insaaN ko kia.

LiKH diya 'Lauh' maiN sub, aur kaha iKHtiyar diya,

Aik dil toota hua, raasta pur KHaar diya.

Jism-e-faani maiN hai dil, aur us maiN hai rooh posheeda,

ZaKHmoN se CHoor hai jo, her taraf se hai dareeda.

KuCHH BHee iKHtiyar nahee,

 Hum se sarokar nahee.

Aa gaey is lieay hum zinda haiN,

Zindagee aisee ke sharminda haiN.

KHushee se apnee na hum aaey yahaaN,

Aur na merzee se siDHaraiN gay vahaaN.

Jub bulaey ga hamaiN

CHHoR daiN gay yeh jahaaN.

The Lotus Pond

The bumpy narrow winding road,

Snakes around the woods and hills;

And veers off on a sudden tangent,

To disappear in a clump of trees.

I follow the path I cannot see,

So thick are the trees surrounding me.

The pristine silence of the warm spring day,

Occasionally broken by the cooing dove.

And frogs making merry in lively concert,

Leaping out of the water to rest.

The fragrance in the air is a precious gift,

Floating down from the blossoms around.

The woods come abruptly to a sudden end,

Revealing a clearing that hosts a pond.

A pond with heavenly lotus in bloom,

Shaded by the leaning willow trees.

And seated on the jutting rocks beneath,

Two lovers gazing passionately in each other's eyes.

Bold and timid at the same time,

They touch hands lightly, afraid to do more.

But the frogs in the lotus pond are singing,

Giving them heart to shed their fear.

And so they move closer, and closer still,

She rests her delirious head on his shoulder;

She is more dauntless, more driven by love,

For she divorces tradition and presses her lips,

To his flushed, feverish burning cheek.

Emboldened, he gathers her up in his arms,

And holds her tight against his heart,

She raises her face and he seals her lips,

With a kiss that promises commitment for life.

To Those Who Are No More!!!

The dead lie cold, insensitive,
Unfeeling and distant.
They do not care
What they have done;
In what ruin they leave
Lives behind them.
They do not care
That with them they take
The sunshine of faces,
The lustre of eyes,
The laughter of souls;
They do not care!!
For their faces lie open
Not to the life they leave behind,
But to the Eternity that lies ahead!!

GHam- e - BekaraN

Lagay itnay zaKHm dil pe,
Ke guzar gaey hum jaaN se.
KaraiN kis se ub gila hum,
Is falak se ya jahaaN se.

Kia jin pe hum ne takia,
Voh subhee adam siDHaray,
Unhay BHa gaeya jahaaN voh
Na KHabar milay jahaaN se.

Na palat ke deKHtay haiN,
Na pukaar dil ki suntay.
Raha vaasta na un ko
Hamaaray dil-e-veeraaN se.

Jub BHee unhay pukaarey,
Yeh dill taRap taRap ke.
Laut aaeN sub sadaeN
Pehlay hee asmaaN se.

Dil KHoon bun ke tapkay,
Tun zindagee se jaey.
Koi kaisay sub samBHalay,
Sho'la-e-GHam-e-bekaraaN se.

Sub kuCCHH hee jul gaeya ho,
Jub GHam kee aaNDHeoN maiN,
Na milay koi kinaara
Na nija'at is biyabaaN se.

KaraiN laaKH un se minnat,
DiKHaeN jigar ke CHHaalay,
Na hai faida taRap ka,
Na hee sood is fuGHaaN se.

THE WILD HEART

I came upon this wilderness,

"How wild this wilderness is," I said.

"But the wilderness of my wild heart,

Surpasses the wilderness of this wilderness!"

Dil-e-VeeraN

Mera dil ruka ruka sa, yeh jigar kata kata sa,
BaRhay hausla yeh kaisay, jo rahay gira gira sa.

Hai voh ajnabee sa lekin, keuN lagay diKHa diKHa sa,
JanamoN se janta hooN, PHir hai keuN naya naya sa?

Koi baat BHee karay voh, to lagay gila gila sa,

Koi rishta- e- azal hai, jo lagay juRa juRa sa.

Koi kashash e mustaqil hai, voh jo hai mera mira sa,

THa muhabbatoN ka aadee, naKHal- e- dil hara BHara sa,

Hua nafratoN ka aadee, vohee dil jala jala sa.

Nahee dil maiN koi raNg ub, jo na ho uRa uRa sa,

Na to rooh maiN sakooN voh, na hee munn KHila KHila sa.

Hua zindagee sey aari, yeh jahaaN luta luta sa,
Yeh bala ki bay yaqeeni, hai eemaN bika bika sa.

Hua saaNs layna dooBHar, ke samaN GHuta GHuta sa,
KeuN nazar maiN yeh veerani, keuN yeh ser JHuka JHuka sa.

KaheeN jaaN dari dari si, kaheeN dil dara dara sa,
Hai yeh piyar ki tammanna, ya diya buJHa buJHa sa.

Kabhee ho ga KHatm aaKHir, yeh safar bay aab- o- giah sa,

Barasay ga meeNh ik din, hai yaqeeN zara zara sa.

My Paradise Lost

How sad, but true
That we take for granted,
All the bounties of life,
And choose to remain oblivious
To the depths of Life,
To the enigma of Death.

Does ever a day go by
Without the cry of a funeral?
Have ever we met one
Untouched by the hand of Death?

And yet it is,
That we give it no thought.
Nor place in our lives,
Until it forces its might on us.

Death is no respector of persons,
Though it claims the same from us.
It is a thief, it steals our life,
It spares none, it comes to all.

It pays no heed,
To the pleas of a widow,
Nor does it succumb,
To the tears of an orphan.

Never does it return to its Maker
Empty of hand,
Never does it transgress
His command.

Oh why did I not see
The writing on the wall?
Why could I not see
You were weak and fragile?

I sheltered in the thought
You would always be there.
That you could desert me,
Was not a possibility.

I saw the tears in your eyes,
As we said goodbye.
As you stood in the doorway,
Until you could no longer see me.

There were no words,
But your eyes said it all.
" Is this the last time?
Or will I see her again?"

How I wish I could hear,
That silent prayer in your heart.
"Oh let there be other times,
Let not this be the last!"

There will be time in future I thought,
When you would be there,
And I would be free.
Then it would be just, you and me.

I would be free to sit with you,
To talk to you, and listen to you,
To share with you,
And confide in you.

But alas!
It was not meant to be!
I waited too long,
For I was a fool.

Fate was mocking my ignorance,
Shaking her head at my blindness.
I trusted in her and she failed me,
Taught me a lesson of reality.

That you were a candle in the wind,
I failed to see.
For you had always been,
The lighthouse of my sea.

I could not see that you were waiting,
That you were tired
And ready
To rest.

That you were eager to leave
And meet Him.
That you were closer to Him
Than me.

Now I know that you were always with Him,
For He listened to you,
When I did not.
I had failed you, and knew it not.

You saw
What I did not.
You knew
What I did not.

For even though
It tore your heart,
You had made your choice long ago
Between your love for Him and me.

And so it was,
That you were at peace,
As much with Him
As with yourself.

I found you quiet,oh, so quiet;
But in your heart you were not;
For you were always
Conversing with Him.

Would I be wrong to believe
That He talked to you too?
For what else could be
Behind that tranquil peace?

That frownless brow,
That smile on your lips,
The memory of your silence,
Blights my soul.

Will there ever be
A time for atonement?
Will you let me undo what I did?
And do what I did not?

Will you ever forgive me?
In my question lies my hope
To hear you say 'yes',
In your answer lies the secret of my peace.

Please forgive me,
Though I do not deserve your forgiveness.
Please forgive me
Though I am the blackest of your sheep.

Though I never said it,
And though I never showed it,
You were the cornerstone of my life;
You were the reason for my life.

If you could only see me
Now that you are gone.
I stand in the rain
Without shelter, desolate and forlorn.

I long for the cool warmth of your love,
As I burn in the scorching heat
Of the desert of life.
And I search for the shading canopy, of your affection.

For you were my shelter
And you were my shading tree.
Without your forgiveness,
My paradise is lost.
And so is my soul
Lost without you,
Mother dear.

"The Picture Of Dorian Gray"

Turning the key very carefully in the rusted lock, I slowly opened the door and stepped inside.
How empty, sad and quiet. The house had been abandoned years ago. I felt suffocated as dust choked me. My first instinct was to pull the curtains, open the windows and rush back outside for fresh air.
Houses are built with a lot of care and passion and have to be maintained with the same. Rooms need to be aired, the gardens need to be tended with care, bushes trimmed and trees pruned regularly. A house where none of these activities takes place, soon earns the reputation of being 'haunted', and rightly so. Any place that is so neglected, and lacks signs of normal human existence will surely become a haven for 'the others'.
The human soul is such a house my dear friends; a very delicate, fragile house; a house built by none other than God Himself. And this house has windows too.......countless windows. To name just a few, love and fear of God, love for all His creatures, love of nature,compassion, tolerance and the ability to embrace everyone with their faults; equal sense of justice for all, humility, charity and mercy.
Each of these windows brings new life and nourishment to the soul. As we close one, it paves the way for the next to shut down, and one by one, over a period of a lifetime, all the windows are sealed and the soul is choked to death.
 And what is a man without a soul, but an animal; a slave to the demons of desire?
In order to maintain the house of our soul so that love grows and happiness flourishes in it, we need to keep all the windows open. Close even one of them and the soul begins to stagnate. Gradually it becomes putrid, just like the water in a closed pond. Very stealthily, the foulness of the soul takes over the entire body that encases it. When that happens, even the most handsome of men will lose their charm and beauty to the ugliness of their dying soul. As our ugly deeds alter the beauty of our soul, so do they cause our face to become hideous and repulsive; for the face is the mirror of our soul!
The reason why Muslims of a thousand years ago were so great is that they had kept their souls flourishing by keeping their windows open. They learned from others and embraced people and ideas without selfish prejudice and malice. They were magnanimous people and sought 'ilm' or knowledge rather than power. The latter fell in their lap without struggle, as a result of their intellectual pursuits.
History has proven that the great fame and success of the Muslims were generated primarily not so much by their military superiority as by their acts of extraordinary kindness, tolerance and generosity. The extended periods of their rule over vast regions of the world is accepted today, even by the west, as the greatest time of all, for learning and advancement of art, culture and science. It was a period of unimaginable glory and enlightenment for the Muslims of those days.
Alas, no more!!!
Why is it that today Muslims all over the world are suffering humiliation, indignity and oppression? Why is it that we no longer hear Muslim names in the fields of medicine, astrology, mathematics; all areas where Muslims were the pioneers of knowledge and discovery? Why do we hear of them bracketed only with violence, barbarism and brutality?
The answer is simple: We have closed all the windows. The 'rooms' of our souls need 'airing', the gardens need tender care and love. We are forever obsessed with the well being of our bodies, little realizing that bodies cannot be separated from souls.Our souls need nourishment of a different kind which only comes from self effacement and love for humanity.We forget that while our bodies will perish, our souls will not.
Let us open our closed windows, one window at a time.
Let us forget our conceited desires and rise above our biases.
Let us begin a new phase of life; a phase of love and kindness, of peace and tolerance.
Let us bring hearts and souls together.
Let us never forget the story of " The Picture Of Dorian Gray".

My Favourite From Iqbal

1.

Gaisooey tabdar ko, aur bhee tabdar ker,

Hosh- o- khirad shikaar ker, qalb- o- nazar shikaar ker.

2.

Na uthha phir koi Rumi ajam kay lala zaaron se,
Vohee aab o gil e Iraan, vohee Tabrez hai saaqi.
Nahee hai na ummeed Iqbal apni kisht e veeraan se
Zara num ho to yeh mattee barri zerkhaiz hai saaqi.

3.

Laa PHir ik baar vohee baada o jaam aiy saaqi,
Haath aa jaey muJHey mera muqaam aiy saaqi.
ISHq kee teGH e jigardaar uRRa lee kis nay
Ilm ke haTH maiN KHali hai nayaam aiy saaqi.

4.

TuJHey yaad kia nahee hai, merey dil ka voh zamana
Voh adabgahey muhabbat, voh nigeh ka taziana.
NaheeN is KHulee fiza maiN, koi goSHa e faraGHat
Yeh jahaN ajab jahaN hai, na qafas na aaSHiana.
Merey KHak o KHoon se too ne yeh jahaN kia hai paida
Sila e SHaheed kia hai, tub o taab e javidaana.
Teree bunda pervaree se merey din guzar rahay haiN
Na gila hai dostooN se na SHikayet e zamana.

5.

Apni jaulaN gah zair- e- aasmaN samJHa THa maiN

Aab- o- gill ke KHel ko apna jahaaN samJHa THa maiN

Bay hijaabee se tiri toota nigahoN ka talism

Ik ridaa-e- neelgooN ko aasmaN samJHa THa maiN

KaarvaN THuk ker fizaa ke paich- o- KHum maiN reh gaeya

Mehr- o- mah- o- muSHtaree ko hum anaaN samJHa THa maiN

ISHq kee ik just nay taey ker diya qissa tamaam
Is zameen o asmaaN ko bay karaaN samJHa THa maiN

Keh gaeeN raaz e muhabbat perda darihaey SHauq
THee fuGHaN voh BHee jisay zabt e fuGHaN samJHa THa maiN.

6.

Tu abhee rehguzar main hai, qaid- e- maqaam se guzar

Misr- o- Hijaz se guzar, Paaras- o- Shaam se guzar.

Jis ka amal hai bay gharaz, us kee jaza kucchh aur hai

Hoor- o- khiyam se guzar, bada- o- jaam se guzar.

Tera imaam bay huzoor, teree namaz bay suroor
Aisee namaz se guzar, aisay imaam se guzar!

7.

Phir chiragh- e- lala se raushan huay koh- o- daman

Mujjh ko phir naghmon pe uksaanay laga murgh- e- chaman

Husn- e- bay pervah ko apnee bay naqabee ke liey

Hon agar shehron se bun piyaray to shehr acchhay ke bun

Apnay mun main doob ker pa ja suraagh- e- zindagee

Tu agar mera nahin buntaa na bun apna to bun.

Mun kee duniya! Mun kee duniya soz o mustee jazb o shauq
Tun kee duniya! Tun kee duniya sood o sauda makr o fun

Mun kee daulat haath aatee hai to phir jaatee naheen
Tun kee daulat cchhaon hai, aata dhun jaata hai dhun.

Mun kee duniya main na paya main ne afrangee ka raaj
Mun kee duniya main na dekhay hum ne shaikh o berhaman

Paani paani ker gayee mujh ko qalander kee yeh baat
Tu jhuka jub ghair kay aagay, na mun tera na tun.


8.

Ummeed e hoor ne sub kucchh sikha rekhha hai vaaez ko,

Yeh hazrat dekhnay main seedhay saaday bholay bhalay hain!

9.

Aalam hai GHulam us ke jala-e-azalee ka,

Ik dil hai ke her lehza ulaJHta hai KHirad se.

10.

Tiray azaad bundoN kee, na yeh duniya na voh duniya,

YahaaN mernay kee pabundee, vahaaN jeenay kee pabundee.

11.

KHiradmandoN se kia pooCHHooN,

Ke meri ibtidaa kia hai,

Ke maiN is fikr maiN rehta hooN,

Ke meri intihaa kia hai.

12.

Aalam-e-aab-o-KHak maiN

Terey zahoor se firoGH,

Zarra-e-reg ko diya

Too ne tuloo-e-aftaab.

Shauq agar tera na ho

Meri namaaz ka imaam,

Mera qiyam BHee hijaab

Mera sujood BHee hijaab.

13.

Nahee tera nashaiman qasr-e-sultani ke gumbed per,

Tu shaheeN hai basaira ker pahaaRoN kee chttaanoN per.

14.

Nazar nahee to merey halqa-e-suKHan maiN na baiTHH,

Ke nukta haaey KHudee haiN misaal-e-taiGH-e-aseel.

Ghareeb-o-sada-o-rangeeN hai dastaan-e-haram,

Nihayet is ki Hussain, ibtida hai Ismael.

15.

KHo na ja is sehr-o-shaam maiN aiy sahib-e-hosh,

Ik jahaaN aur BHee hai jis maiN na farda hai na doosh.

16.

KHudee ke saaz maiN hai umr-e-javedaaN ka suraGH,

KHudee ke soz se raushan haiN ummatoN ke chiraGH.

Hui na zaaGH maiN paida buland pervazi

KHarab ker gaee shaheeN baCHay ko suhbat-e-zaaGH.

17.

Na ker zikr-e-firaq-o-ashnaee,

Ke asl-e-zindagee hai KHud numaee.

Na duniya ka ziaN hai, naey guhar ka,

Dil-e-darya se gohar kee judaee.

18.

Haqeeqat KHurafat maiN KHo gaee,

Yeh ummat rivayat maiN KHo gaee.

BuJHee ishq kee aag, anDHair hai

MussalmaN nahee raaKH ka DHer hai.

TaRapnay PHaRaknay kee taufeeq day,

Di-e-Murtaza, Soz-e-Sideeq day!!

19.

SitaaroN se aagay jahaaN aur Bhee haiN

ABHee ishq ke imtihaaN aur BHee haiN

Qana'at na ker aalam-e-rung-o-boo per,

CHaman aur BHee ashiyaaN aur BHee haiN.

Tu shaheeN hai pervaaz hai kaam tera,

Tiray saamnay asmaaN aur BHee haiN.

Isi roz-o-shub maiN ulaJH ke na reh ja

Ke teray zaman-o-makaaN aur BHee haiN.

20.

YooN to Sayyed BHee ho, mirza BHee ho AfGHaan BHee ho,

Tum saBHee kuCHH ho batao Mussalmaan BHee ho?

Dances With The Rain

Heavy clouds gather in the sky; chasing winds hastening the darkness they tow. Lightning crisscrosses across the horizon followed by rumbling thunder in the distance. The air is already moist and fragrant, betraying the presence of rain elsewhere, not far off. I hold my breath in anticipation as my heart waits excitedly. And as the first large drops descend upon the parched earth, it seems they fall upon the dry soil of my thirsty soul. The dead earth comes to life and so does my spirit. It dances to the sweet melody of the rain. My heart rejoices. People run for cover, cursing and grumbling as they are forced to abandon their plans. But my heart becomes restless. As I see people eager to seek shelter, I long for the freedom of the outdoors. My spirit yearns to embrace and merge with the beauty of nature.
And so it is, that I leave the confines of my home and set out. I head towards the ocean and walk beside the excited waves. The only other creatures out there are some large sea gulls and pelicans. As I seek nourishment for my soul, they are foraging for food to sustain their bodies. I watch them in fascination as they hover precariously over the water, miraculously poised, maintaining a safe distance as they peer down into the dark depths of the ocean to spot fish. The slightest tip of the wing could mean the end for them. But they do not err; for that is the destiny of man alone. They have unwavering faith in their Navigator, while man is steered by 'free will' and 'mind', and invariably failed by both.
I allow the moisture laden wind to toss my hair from under the cap. The rain beats down on my face, hitting like sharp pellets, but it doesn't bother me; the pleasure derived is too great to allow a little discomfort to stand in the way.
The rain lifts my spirit and carries my soul on its wings, enabling it to soar beyond the boundaries of human limitations. My soul seems to abandon its physical confines for a moment and is able to view life from a different perspective.
Ah! how futile are human endeavours and pursuits of worldly wealth, how perishable and transient all things material, and how valuable and enduring, qualities like humanity,generosity and love. It is not difficult to understand why since time immemorial, men have forsaken all that is frivolous and arbitrary, in pursuit of things more sublime and lasting; for that is the true purpose of life. When God created man, He planted in him the best of His own attributes; for He wished man to be the mirror in which He could see His own image.
And what, pray, is the mirror but a sheet of glass, without the qualities of what it reflects?
Hour upon hour I walk, my soul and heart drawing their very essence from the descending rain. The shackles of slavery to the god of my ego are shattered and I feel liberated, exhilarated. Perhaps the strong opposing wind slackens my pace a little but it does not stop me. On the contrary, it quickens my heart and strengthens my resolve.
I look up into the dark sky and silently thank God for His blessings. I wish the rain to go on. Just as it collects in narrow streets and alleys and washes the dirt down the gutters, so do I wish it to wash away the impurities and blemishes in the alleys of my soul.
I need the clarity it brings to my thoughts and the life it lends to my existence.
I need the rain to be alive;
I need the rain to carry on.