The Broken Wings

یوں دی ہمیں آزادی کہ دنیا ہوی حیران"” and “سارے جہاں سے اچھا ہندوستاں ہمارا” are few of the many exhilarating national songs in Pakistan and India which are the charm of ‘Independence days’ celebrations and signify patriotism. The youth of both the nations happily sing and celebrate their nationhood with great zeal. The national textbooks and the general history told about the making of the two nations is so romanticized and filled with sacrifices by the leaders that all we can do is appreciate them and consider them as our heroes. Although Partition of the subcontinent is a vastly used term, people in the new states of India and Pakistan think that these two nations were made rather that they were ripped apart from each other. Even if one thinks about the word partition, it gives very cruel and sad feelings. 15^th of August 1947 (or 14th of August for Pakistan now) brought with it one of the worst tragedies in the history of the world.  While celebrating the happy history of the nation making now, we never think of the brutal killings and most terrific migration and displacement of millions of people back then. This whole process of was very long yet unplanned and thus lead to uprooting many families of the same home into two different unknown houses. “I feel like I am an aborted plant, I have no roots.” An old lady (whose name is not mentioned) says in an interview in “The 1947 Partition archives - lest we forget the human tragedy” while talking about her feelings about partition. We seldom take in consideration such accounts. We hardly remember that we were one and British left the subcontinent with its broken wings after decolonization and each wing is striving to fly now with the divided soul.

`           As VaziraZamindar explains very well in the text we discussed that partition was a very long process. The main idea of partition came from the “Two Nation Theory”. Muslims and Hindus had lived together in the subcontinent for years and years, but then British came and conducted a census where they divided people into Muslim and Hindus. This division never existed before during the Mughal Empire, but British gave subcontinent this gift which was later shaped into the almighty Two Nation Theory.Umar Khitab, a person I interviewed who migrated from India at the age of 17 told me when I asked about religious tolerance in the subcontinent before partition.“I remember my teacher of primary school; she said that India does not believe in religious differences. There is Ali in Diwali and Ram in Ramzan. We are one nation and we have been living together as one”. It was not only back then, but I came across this news from India today: “Joining the throngs in Delhi on Tuesday was an unusual community of mourners. They carried out their own taziya procession and beat their chests in lamentation. But they were Hindus, not Muslims.”(The Washington Post, by Ishaan Tharoor). This is how Hindus celebrate a Shias’ religious event with them. People of Subcontinent have not only accepted diversity but celebrated it. It is interesting that the Two Nation Theory was given the status of a theory before experimentation, and sadly the common people were put to experimentation afterwards by the prophets of nationalism in the name of self expression. A video “A letter to Dear Neighbor” by ‘Logical Indian’ which just came out and is trending on social media shows that how much this theory was wrong and is still wrong after 67 years of experiment. The video says that Pakistan and India are the reflection of each other, and although a wall is created between us; we still hear and feel each other very clearly. Scientifically speaking, this uneducated guess of existence of two nationswas politicized as a theory and was used to tear down the subcontinent. Why were two different identities imposed on us? Why were the leaders giving us nations by snatching the birth place from many?

            A major cause of the partition and the damage that followed was that it was much unplanned. Many people did not know what was happening and what the future would look like. Asim Roy tries to highlight in The High Politics of India Partition the fact that according to many people Jinnah was using the Lahore Resolution 1940 as a tactic move to be equally represented in United India where Hindus were in majority. It was not even named as Pakistan Resolution and Jinnah said that the name Pakistan was foisted and fathered on Muslim League by Hindus. There was this fear in Muslim leaders that after British leave the subcontinent; Hindus will be taking over everything and vice verse. This fear led to movements like “Divide and Quit” or “Now or Never by Ch. Rehmat Ali”. The worst of all was that there was not any concept of boundaries till late 1940s and the geographical separation was an idea unknown. Saadat Hassan Manto explains this issue in a remarkable way in his famous writing Toba Tek Singh.An asylum was located in Lahore which became Pakistan. After they were told of this decision, the inmates could not understand what it meant:

“As to where Pakistan was located, the inmates knew nothing. That was why both the mad and the partially mad were unable to decide whether they were now in India or in Pakistan. If they were in India, where on earth was Pakistan? And if they were in Pakistan, then how come that until only the other day it was India?” According to BBC report ‘The Hidden Story of Partition and its Legacies By Dr Crispin Bates’another explanation for the chaos in which the two nations came into being is Britain's hurried withdrawal with the realization it could ill afford its over-extended empire.This was the situation during partition. People were engulfed in a snap by this tragedy unknowingly.

            “I feel like I was forced into exile, except I did nothing wrong to deserve that.” An eyewitness named G. S. Sekhon said in an interview with 1947 Partition Archive. What does it mean to plug off people of their motherland in the name of making nations? There were very less options for people than to migrate. The funny thing was that the heroes of our partition were mostly based in places like Bombay and they suddenly started caring about the people of Karachi and Delhi. 47.6 percent population of Karachi was comprised of Hindus and 33.2 percent of Delhi population was Muslims. What kind of an awful disturbance would havetaken place when such a huge number of people shuffled around? Some of the migrants reached their destination, many lost their lives on the way and several of them did not know where their destination was.

نہ خدا ہی ملا نہ وصال صنم

 ادھر کے رہے نہ ادھر کے

This Urdu poem describes it very well because in the name of ‘Khuda’ and ‘Sanam’, people were displaced but many of them were not accepted by either state. As said by the Archive, about 15 million people became homeless and over a million lost their lives during the mass cross-migration of peoples. “As many as 100,000 women were abducted and countless children were orphaned,” the Archive states. “Many of the eye-witnesses, now in their 70s and 80s, still remain deeply emotionally wounded. Moreover the global legacy of Partition lives on today in the form of the disputed Line of Control between India and Pakistan, the world’s second most heavily militarized border.” All of this was done for the sake of getting recognized as two nations. Many women were sexually harassed and others were killed by their parents so that their daughters do not face such accidents. Humanity and feelings for the birth place was overshadowed by the sordid teaching of people like Bose, Mashriqi and Sarvarkar. Their goal was achieved, nations were made and military was set up on the borders.

            “I looked up to see the same sky, the same stars, but this was India,” said J. Hemrajani, a Hindu who moved to Delhi from a small town in Sindh, Pakistan while talking to 1947 Partition Archive.  The story of partition did not end once the refugees got settled, but it will always stay in the atmosphere of the subcontinent. People have families and lands across the borders. This was entropy of cultures, languages and traditions. Many people left their hearts in their own places and ended up on the other side of the wall bare handed but with lots of memories. This psychological impact on people of relating themselves to the other half of the subcontinent would never go away. 98 percent people in our class have some direct family relation to the partition. These stories are not told to the youth because they are painful, but the genetic characteristics like kids of migrated families in Pakistan having Banaras touch to them would keep reminding us that we have been torn apart. There were still thirty five million Muslims left in India making it the largest number of Muslims in a non-Muslims States in the world. The other broken wings like Kashmir and Bangladesh stand there alone looking at Pakistan over a thousand miles of India.

            Partition of the subcontinent was a very cruel tragedy and I am not sure how much of Ehsan it was on us by giving us so called Independence. If India was the best in the world, then why did the same writer have to dream of a separate homeland? No matter what ever the story was, it is never worth the lives we lost and the families which broke.

کچھ ظالموں نے نہ جانے کس حرص سے

میرے ہی گھر کا بٹوارا کر دیا        

           

           

Peshawar Attack :(

‪#‎peshawarincident‬ 

Ami Ami..mujae aap se milna tha ...
Galae lag ke aj ke din ki baaten btani thi..
Pata hae kuch uncles kamre me chale aye..
Shilvar qameez pehne, hath me banduq liye..
Mujae laga ke hamen koi surprise mili hae..
Aisa har din, har kahin to nehi hota..
Ami, unhon ne hum se kalma parvaya..
Phir mere doston pe goli chalana shuru Kia..
Ye muslman hamen kiu maar rehe the??
Phir meri baari bi agai, banduq ki rukh meri taraf thi..
Me ne kaha ke mout se inkar nhi hae lekin..
Meri Ami ka mera lash daekh ke Kia hoga!!
Goli sar pe lagi, Ami ap bohat yaad ayien..
Khuda ka naam lia ke muslmanon ne he maar dia..
Rooh to uth gai par apko atae dekha..
Aba jan bi rorehe thae, AP ko Sahara kon dega??
AP behosh kiu hogai? Ami mujae dekho na..
Mera haath thamo na.. Mujae galae lagao Ami..
Mujh ab khaak me dabadia jayega..mujae rukhsati deden. .
Bhai ko abi tak kiu nhi bataya? Un k school me aisa to nhi hua?
Meri kitaben jalado maa..mera basta phar dalo..
Meri yaad apko satayegi...meri yaad bohat ayegi..
Aba jan ko fauj me janae pe mat dhandna..
Aba aj pehli baar rorehe hain..unko chup karao koi..
Mae shaheed hun..mera maqaam buland hae..
Ap ka kia hoga? Kisko munni bulayengi?

Ami, aba, Bhai, behen...khuda hafiz..
Hum ne jan dedia, hamare mulk ka khuda muhafiz !!

Awarapan: Mere ho ab jaise ho!

Chalo adaab-e-mehfil ka faida kuch aisae ho..

Sub sae hath mila kar unse puchen:Kaise ho?

Wo shakhs jo palken uthane sae tha munkir..

Yu muskurane lage ke khile phuul jaise ho!

Larazte hue honton se hum se mukhatib hue..

Bina jaan ke badan bhala kaise ho?

Meri hairat dekh kar unho ne daryaft kia..

Tum bhi badal gaye ho ya waise ho?

Fizaon ki sargoshi ne ye payam dia..

Meri mohabbat ke liye wo bi jaise tarse ho!

Mere kuch kehne se qabal he lapat parae..

Siskte hue kehne lage “ mere ho ab jaise ho”.

So proud of my Country

Note: This is a satire, and any reference made is imaginary!

How many times have you seen people whining about our brilliant homeland? Well, let us prove them wrong! How about we start our travel with travelling in our country? I believe that our country has the best traffic in the world. It is confirmed by ITRRFDO (International Traffic Rules and Regulation Followers in Descending Order) that Pakistan stood on number one globally with a tiny lead over Bangladesh. Rest of the nations had their hats fell down when looking at our ranking; we are on the peak. The experienced chief minister of Sindh put forward an open challenge recently to the world “I challenge any skilled driver from any developed country to come and drive in the roads of Karachi, especially from Ayesha Manzil to Saddar in the evening. My challenge is never based on the Urdu proverb which translates as “every dog is lion in its street”; rather it is a time-honored truth. No matter how much experience they have, or even many have participated in international races, which Pakistanis imagine only of by the Nescar Race video games; those drivers can never understand our rules.  They will sooner or later quit, faint or may be pass away on the way. At the end, it is not any joke; it is the land of winners, and it is driving in the best country of Pakistan”.

Alhamdulillah, Pakistan is an Islamic country, and we try our best to follow Islam in every second we spend and of course, we follow Islamic rules in our traffic. We have never believed in lanes because it creates distance, and our culture, religion and traditions have always taught us unity. This is the reason that there has never been any gap between two vehicles as well. People in other countries keep a big distance from the car in the front to avoid accidents, but we are not cowards; we are Mards. This series of unity sometime leads us to some narrow streets or squares where we have to stop for a while, but we stay there forever. A motorcycle rider can easily get off, step into a Rikshaw and climb a bus just to offer Salam to a friend. There is nothing to worry about at all, the traffic wouldn’t interrupt and no ladder needed either because we move shoulder to shoulder. The traffic does not move for hours, but we do not care because we like to be together and what is a better place than this to discuss religion and politics? SubhanAllah! Is there any nation which is such patient as Pakistan who waits around for hours sitting in Rikshaws and Qinqis relying on Chalia and Paan only?

Purity or cleanliness makes half of the Imaan, but we have a good philosophy of the traffic pollution. People think that we do not believe in Darwin’s theory, but I think we do! We love pollution because it makes our respiratory system very strong. We use our respiratory system’s filter 1000 times more than it needs to be used because the more you use an organ, the most it develops just like the neck of a giraffe. Now, can a person from UK compete with any Pakistani if both are put in a harshly polluted area? Furthermore, we also have the prayers and support of our molvis who usually drive a torn-silencer motor cycle. Our tremendous idea of believing in modern biology makes my lungs pump up. Moreover, we are also blessed with sound pollution. Horn sound is like an unnoticed music for us. What adds up is when the trumpet of Ambulance gets louder and the person says the lyric “Get out of the way for God sake, we have patient in critical situation”.  Since the dance floor is so full and everybody is moving with the beats, these lyrics go unheard. Our doctors usually appreciate this music the most. We are fun loving country and fond of music.

Most countries claim that there is gender in equality in Pakistan and women do not get their rights. How wrong and disrespectful our enemies are? I believe that no doubt there is gender inequality but women are more privileged than men. Take the example of women in the majlis of traffic jam; they are all covered in black. They have a very well dust safety over their mouths and most women wear glasses which makes them total dust proof. What do poor men have, except spitting Tulsi and Chaalia on the wheels of neighboring vehicle?  Zainura Bibi expresses her gratitude and excitement for being a proud Muslim woman “Non Muslims and Kafirs think that women are not valued in Muslim countries, but that is not true. We have a complete black hijab covering which stops any external particle to irritate us during slow traffic. We can see whatever we want to see through our black sunglasses. This is a big slap on the faces of people who are against hijab”. “We also enjoy the hot weathers of Karachi in black dress, there is shifa from Allah” she added. These brave women are pride of our nation.

Finally, the civil police which we pompously name as conductors take over the situation and start controlling the traffic. After a struggle of few more hours, the traffic starts moving. Everybody feels bad to be leaving, but they are happy that it happened rather than cry to be departing.  The traffic is further slowed down by some entrepreneurs who have extended their dry fruit, coconut and cigarette business to the middle of the roads. Nobody would object on that, because we encourage small businesses. When we move a bit forward, the traffic might stop to watch some street cricket. After every over, the wickets are taken away and the traffic moves. Everybody enjoys it because we are cricket loving nation.

Do you wonder if our politicians and “bare log” enjoy all this? The answer is No, because our leaders never want to snatch the rights of a common man. They have their own easy exit without all this fun.

I am sure there need to be any more reasons required to be proud of our country. We have given so much to this country, and I pray to Allah that may these traditions and the love and unity among people never get dim and there be no changes in our traffic system so that our coming generation have the honor to see what we have to give them as a present; A country we are really proud of!!

A Winter Day from My childhood

Life moves so fast that we hardly get time to look back at our lives of few years ago. Today I feel like missing my childhood winters. Those were some nice days: peaceful, lovely and memorable. I have mostly spent my childhood in the valley of Chitral. It is a cold place, and in winters the white sky falls on it. We used to get 1-2 feet of snow. My day would start by listening to BBC news on radio which my dad always listened to. We were lucky enough to not have a TV at that time. I would be lying under the blanket and may be teasing my elder brother Wajid who never like to get up early. I would wait till my dad call “Khan, get up!! Enough of sleeping”. I would behave if I just woke up and would stretch myself out. I hated taking bath so I would just take hot water in ewer from above the stove and throw water on my face to get fresh. My dad was regular in morning prayers, but he never asked us to go to Jamat Khana for Morning Prayer because no dad would like his kids to get frozen. After calling thousand times, Wajid would get up.

My sister and mom would bring us breakfast. Our usual breakfast would be tea, chapati, egg, shoshp/sanabachi or any other traditional stuff. After breakfast, I loved spending time in the small room sitting around stove and keep feeding that with Mirghinch wood. I had to read or at least pretend to be reading some book because my dad would read some books sitting in the same room. Wajid had the skill of escaping the room and I, the poor young kid, was supposed to be in the room so that dad doesn’t feel that we are not interested in our studies.

I also had my good times when it would be time for my dad to take a nap. As soon as dad would start snoring, it was time for me to get out of the room. My dad would not allow me because he did not want me to get sick in the cold. Wajid and I loved cleaning the pathway and hit each other with snow. I still remember that each of us had our Shoqa, a thick over coat made of wool, and plastic moozas. Going sledding with my friends and cousins to a steep place near our house was one of my favorite activities. Each of us would have a slingshot to hunt the birds. Now I feel how cruel we were, but it was a lot of fun to shoot a bird and then cut its neck with sharp stone meanwhile reading some Quranic verses, bring it home and burn its feather in fire and put it in the stove till it get cooked. By the time we would get home, my clothes would be all wet and the short day would be over as well. I would rush to the kitchen to dry myself off before my dad would see me. I did not mind scolding of my mom because I would just get up and hug her and she would burst into laughter.

Then mom, dad, I and Wajid would go to Jamat Khana for prayer. I do not know why, but I would slip and fall the most. I could see Wajid giggling back there and I would hardly control my anger. After coming from prayer, my sister and cousins would have made the dinner and shapik on a steel “TAAV”. I was crazy for rice. The day we had rice for dinner, everyone would say “ It is Eid for Wahid”. There would have always been something delicious on the dastarkhan. We usually had meat of LASHTI, a goat/ox which is well fed all the time and is slaughtered in winter so that long winter spends eating meat. After dinner, we would listen to radio, chattering with cousins (Wasim, Salim etc). We would laugh, dance and then pretend to be studying till we all go to sleep.

Those were the good old days! I look back, take a deep breath and wish I could just rewind it all, but Alas! Past is passed. It has been three years since I have spent a winter with my family in Chitral, and I miss my dad (R.I.P) when I memorize these days. I listen to the song “aj raat chandni hae or Jugnuo se bhar le aanchal” and my eyes get numb. Oh, how I miss my childhood winters. It is truly said that in childhood everyone is a king.