Happy New Year

Three years ago

It was 27th of December 2007.
I was at my radio station, which is situated in an office plaza at sharae faisal, Karachi. 10 minutes before the 6 o'clock news I am usually going through notes, while constructing words for the opening line of my radio show, which starts right after the 5minute news bulletin. Political atmosphere of Pakistan had dramatically changed. Emergency was imposed, judges were deposed, media was shunned. I like many in this country, was barred from carrying out my show for 34 days. After years of army rule, not only musharraf had taken his uniform off, also both ex-prime ministers had returned to the country. From being in exile few weeks ago, to campaigning in front of the nation for upcoming elections, it was sadly the best, in this country, people have seen of "democracy".

Despite stories of the day in my notes were...

• Peak-hour electricity shortage reaches over 2,000MW or 20 per cent of the total demand.
• Musharraf and Karzai renewing pledge to combat terror.
• Pakistan invites hundreds of foreign observers for the January 8 polls.
• US Special Forces to train Pakistani troops.

...I began my radio program with the usual "Salam" followed by "listeners, there is a sad news still developing and reaching us from Islamabad, that Benazir is killed".

A minute earlier; news department had confirmed me, as to what happened when the dust settled from the bomb blast at her motorcade. I remember not saying much, and stepping out from the studios queuing commercials.

I went back on air after commercials and shared with listeners some more information about entire events of the day leading up to this incidence. The shock was difficult to stay live on mic with, so I went out of the studio office to grab a smoke in the alley near the stairs. What I saw was something I had never seen before; the entire workforce of this eleven story office building was leaving all at once. Their faces were pale, terrorized and everyone looked confused as if somebody tipped off a bomb hoax. Seeing this flood of people evacuating the building, I followed 'em down to check the streets. Since I knew news department will take over the transmission to connect with reporters from the scene and etc... hence I never had the burden to resume the show immediately.

I remember street lights were out, people were gathered in huge numbers, cars were packed with extra people, as every one instantly believed, "fleeing to home" was the right thing to do. I talked with few people to explore what they knew more about Benazir's death that I didn't. They all said, "you have no idea what is to come, now". I tried reading their minds by inquiring what is to come? They all seem to agree with "just about anything". As if the instant reaction of her death was intuitively sent into their brains. I could not see the reason for panic, since I myself was shocked like most of them were, I told myself "lets go upstairs and finish the show, then I will head home".

I received a text from my younger brother, conveying a very important instruction from my father.
"No political commentary, beta!"

Within an hour, the fear of those leaving for home instantly after the news of Benazir's demise; started making sense.

Radio's newsroom started receiving information of riots, gun shots and fires being set in several places of the city. This was odd at first, but as hours passed and police, rangers and army was not mobilized at all, it all turned into complete havoc well before the 10pm news bulletin. Office staff at our radio were the only few people in the entire building left stranded.

News of cars being burnt, banks being looted and several unknown gunmen harassing public at almost all big and small roads, started reaching us. Public transport was either halted, stopped by force, or crashed and then set ablaze. Little did we know, that we won't be able to go anywhere for next 36 hours. Terror danced out on the streets, naked in front of our eyes.

Phone calls we received and reports which reached us throughout next three days; still haunts many in our staff team. Billions of dollars worth of looting and destruction. Several dead and kidnapped.

Terror wasn't over:
More than 28 railway stations, 13 engines and 7 trains were set ablaze, totaling a loss of more than 3 billion $ alone. More than 3000 cars, 176 banks, 37 gas stations, hundreds of buses, trucks, shops and buildings were destroyed. More than 100 people died in riots which followed BB's assassination.

Unreported stories:
21 year old Abid (now 24), is still waiting for his sister to return from office. Last phone call she made was minutes before plunging into a small street for safety, abandoning her car after witnessing riots on streets.

Her wedding date was in a month's time.

It was a black day in the history of Pakistan and BB's death was the least of any reason why.

Returning Investment

news item [19 October 2010]
Law Minister Babar Awan surprised many when he announced the donation at the Supreme ]Court premises and it was immediately accepted by SCBA president Qazi Anwar who received a cheque for Rs1 million, while Rs4 million will be paid to the association’s new leaders to be elected on Oct 27.

Thank you

Its been the longest winters without you.
When I thought that I didn't have you in my mind; still I existed in yours.

Oh Lord Beauty!

I shall never stop smiling, why should I? You still love me.

I regret my wrongs. I am guilty. And the moment I feel sorry, I can feel your mercy.

Some may never take that road. I knew not where I was going. With tranquility it reads, journey within.

Where I finished myself... there were still steps. Following into the world outside me.

The kingdom of never ending vastness.

Once beyond my grasp, now in my imagination.
The stars, the heaven and the galaxies.

All for a reason. All for the eye, which sees.

Just when i thought, what better could I smell? I smelled what was new to me.

Just when i thought, what better could I taste? I tasted what was new to me!

New feelings, sounds and sights.

Liberated from the shackles of myself... now I walk free. Or perhaps, I only suppose that I am. Free.

In the midst of this; the world unseen and unknown is coming into being. With every step outside myself...

... restlessness grows.

I remember the forbidden tree. Taste of which, knows all of me.

I can repent, cry and beg for mercy. You will always love me.

Enlighten me and protect me. I am bound for the journey within.
But I can't even conquer me. Help me!

I have smelled, tasted, heard, felt and seen; what I once knew not of.

How can I go back to just live with me?

Its already been the longest winters without you.

Hearts and minds

We live in an age where learning about destruction caused by wars doesn't necessarily take us into digging war logs or archives. News papers here in Pakistan mostly have a dedicated column for Iraq, Afghanistan and more recently; Waziristan. Terrorists, coalition forces and more occasionally civilian deaths make most of the headlines. Roadside explosives, bridges, hospitals, schools and marketplace related destruction and violence by small armed groups along with search and combat operations by regular armies are all that fills every read.

Collateral damage and rare targeted assassination of enemey combatants; makes world leader break their silence, every now and then. But the cold blooded routine goes on.

I have had a rare glimpse of life in war, as a ten year old. Enemey air planes would sometimes find their way inside the country. Sirens would go on, immediatley lights would be shut off and gas masks would be put on.

But these recent wars are different. In post aeriel bombardment scenario, the dust has never settled. Nobody seems to either win or lose. Enemey doesn’t have a regular army marching on drum beats, infact this street combat is often refered as guerilla warfare. Tactics are often miscreant’s brainchild or sometimes it is an over whelming use of force resulting from an army running short on patience because of an ever illusive target living among civilians.

The scale of destruction often refered as oil supply disrupted, schools blown out, bridges exploded etc. might be worth reporting from a journalist’s point of view.

But the children, girls, women, boys, men, and old ones living those streets are my concern here in this writing. The people living in wars. Not just flesh and bones, but their existence of non tangible dreams & aspirations, emotions, fears, which no MAN on earth can ever get an estimate of. That plain is the real battle ground. The slogan of winning hearts and minds has been translated into an abusive tragedy of humanity for many witnesses and survivors of war.

It’s been 20 years since the first gulf war, but I can still remember her tone as my mom comforted me in one of those nights. Siren had gone on and we slipped into darkness as she spoke “don’t you worry dear, me and dad will always be around. Otherwise, be strong and take care of the other children”.

Every time I read of a drone attack somewhere in Pakistan, her words always renew its meanings.

After almost a decade since these pointless wars were first raged, the world has not only failed to eliminate the threat, but generally mankind has lost the virtue of his most iconic strengths; that is to talk, debate, negotiate, resolve and reach agreements.

A famous economist/writer said the following lines

“The direct use of force is such a poor solution to any problem; it is generally employed only by small children and large nations”.

A mean spouse

more or less like any ordinary couple, they too had usual disagreements. But never in their almost three years of living together; did any conflict result in "drawing lines for each other". They would still discuss and settle disputes verbally. Somewhere deep inside, both knew of their partner's worth.

Its a cruel world out there, for anyone not walking in pairs or partnership.

Fueled with this unadmitted insecurity, their relationship gained strength with time. They learnt not only to respect but also feed each other with their individual cravings. Still disputes and reservations never completely faded away.

Amid these ongoing wrangling, one of them decided to end the relationship. Meantime upon learning of partners intentions, rather than planning to calm things down, the other one decided to feed own ego and slap the divorce on the face first !

Or perhaps in simple words....

...news item: "Molana Fazlu decides to quit the ruling coalition."

Wikileaks