baithak

Poessay: Rosary 11 - Creating In Isolation

Poessay: Rosary 12 - Kohled Eyes

Poessay: Rosary 13 - By the Lake

Poessay: Rosary 14 - Snow Flakes

Poessay: Rosary 15 - The Drop

Poessay: Rosary 16 - Ageless Quest - tishnagi

Poessay: Rosary 17 - Hemashree

Poessay: Rosary 18 - Burning blazing fire rages

Poessay: Rosary 19 - Word Whirlpool - BhaNwaur LafzouN Ka

Poessay: Rosary 20 - Thanksgiving I

Poessay: Rosary 21 - KhamOshi - Wordless

Poessay: Rosary 22 - A Simple Poem

Poessay: Rosary 23 - Musings

Poessay: Rosary 24 - Monologue

Poessay: Rosary 25 - pink flamingos, yellow roses, dark clouds

Monday, December 20, 2010

does it matter

does it matter?
will it matter?
if the legs are crossed
or left bare
swift's eggs broken from which end?
wrapped in traditional garb?
it does matter, perhaps
for legs that hold high office
and think with knee-caps?

pondering such
is the nadir
of thinking
(with the lower half)

and speaking of halves
we are not the other half
of halves lost in celestial orbits
though admittedly we are not whole

forgive me dear
last night...
forgive me last night
when in heat
yes, yes that happens
i said things
not meant to be aired

and while deliberating, we ponder
and muse unlike desani's hatter from
above the navel
which is where the sages think from

most deeds
resulting from the foresaken thinking
emanates not from above neck
nor from the heart below

and
drawing from our collective past
so many innocent sweet ones
have reminded us (all)
not to think from below (the waist)

which brings us to global warming
abusing resources of the dharti mata
non renewable ...
runaway population no one talks about
deficit in comprehension
worse than trade deficit
tolerance and un-valentinish love

worse than...
don't dare go there t
this is not the week nor the season
ha!
is there a season for madness?
who'd answer this?
desani? modi? kahane? goebbels? the son of son of ...?
and why not the daughter of daughter of ...?
(binte-binte for the un-initiated)

how could i mention desani
with the exalted ones?
does it matter?
will it matter?
when the abuses
emanate from above
and below

Sunday, December 19, 2010

A Different World Part III : Statesmen or Pygmies

(Continued from A Different World Part I : A Travelogue of Sorts)
and A Different World Part II: Zina ul Haq's Debauchery)

On March 23, 1940 at the Minto Park (now Iqbal Park) the Pakistan Resolution was presented before the annual session of All India Muslim League. (The emphasis added are mine).

No constitutional plan would be workable or acceptable to the Muslims unless geographical contiguous units are demarcated into regions which should be so constituted with such territorial readjustments as may be necessary. That the areas in which the Muslims are numerically in majority as in the North-Western and Eastern zones of India should be grouped to constitute independent states in which the constituent units shall be autonomous and sovereign. That adequate, effective and mandatory safeguards shall be specifically provided in the constitution for minorities in the units and in the regions for the protection of their religious, cultural, economic, political, administrative and other rights of the minorities, with their consultation. Arrangements thus should be made for the security of Muslims where they were in a minority. I H Qureshi, (1992), A Short History of Pakistan. University of Karachi, Reprint of 1967 edition. ISBN 969-404-008-6

The Working Committee of the Muslim League in Lahore (1940)

This was a clear call for confederation or union. As a declaration of intent it was sufficiently clear and yet vague enough for the political leadership to negotiate with the Raj. After the failure of the Cabinet Mission, Lord Louis Mountbatten was sent to preside over the dissolution of the Raj. He was given enough time but Atlee also dangled the carrot of the First Lord of Admiralty. (The vacancy was to be created upon the retirement of the naval chief - but that is another story.)

In his haste to return, aided by Congress leadership's retreat from a stance of no division to an acceptance of division (first Sardar Vallabbhai Patel, next Jawahar Lal Nehru and finally Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi succumbed) Mountbatten called in the bluff and offered Jinnah a truncated Pakistan.

credit: Shahid Siddiqui

The sprawling Quaid e Azam Masoleum Complex in Karachi also houses a small museum. Inside there are his suits, sherwanis, shoes, cars , furniture, monocle and various other items displayed. One realises the larger than life figure was rather diminutive. In a display case we saw a personal diary. In the open pages one can read in Jinnah's handwriting notes he made on a certain day in 1940. This entry as I recall named a chowkidar who was going "home" on vacation. It mentioned the date he was hired and the vacations days due him. He wrote in a clear flowing writing the number of days his leave was "paid leave" and the extra weeks of "time off without pay".

A meticulous and organised barrister whose brilliance was admitted by his detractors also, could not have been so disorganised about Pakistan. You can read more about this in Ayesha Jalal's books and papers. Jinnah wanted to max the guarantees offered to his constituents in a confederated Indian Union. The "independence" was the calculated bluff called in by Mountbatten when he had Congress behind him.

Mountbatten saw another equal in aristocratic Jinnah. He knew how hard it would be for Jinnah to agree to a truncated Pakistan. He told Jinnah, "Tomorrow morning, with the Congress leaders present I will say that you have agreed to the partition, and I expect you to nod."

Movietone newsreels showed a grim Jinnah barely nod the next morning. Intrigue, intransigence, ego and miscalculation carried the day. Jinnah had his truncated Pakistan, Congress had its divided India, hoping the nascent state would soon fold, and Mountbatten had a fixed retreat to return and lobby for the Admiralship.

Nobody gave a thought to the looming holocaust in which 2 million would die, millions would be uprooted and millions upon millions would grow up on both sides of the divide in hate, distrust and intolerance.

On August 11, 1947, Mohammed Ali Jinnah, with permission from the Speaker off the Constituent Assembly, Shri Mandal said:

You are free; you are free to go to your temples, you are free to go to your mosques or to any other place of worship in this State of Pakistan. You may belong to any religion or caste or creed - that has nothing to do with the business of the State.

Zina had the temerity to have this expunged from all official transcripts. He tried to steer Pakistan towards an abyss from which it would be difficult to turn back.

Part I was written in 2002. The civilian government that took over after the February 18, 2008 elections is feebly trying to undo the damage inflicted on the country by the occupying army. There are too many hurdles in way of this nascent democracy. It does not have strong leaders. The dominant parties - PPP, Muslim League (Z), MQM are led by autocratic leaders the former two by billionaires with vast foreign assets.

Wily Asif Zardari has outwitted the veteran Nawaz Sharif a few times already. If ever there was a time to strengthen democratic roots in Pakistan it is fast disappearing. The Army under Gen. Ashfaq Pervez Kayani is stretched and bogged down fighting the Pakistani Talebans and participating in the US proxy wars. This rare opportunity is being squandered away.

The army's role in politics cannot be counted out for long. The militants have become a power to reckon with. Generations have been brainwashed not to question. Generations are being raised on intolerance and hatred, not compassion and understanding. Each group hates the others - the totem pole includes Deobandis, Barelvis, Ahle Hadith, Sipah e Sahaba, Lashkar Jhangvi, Sunnis, Shias, Ahmedis, Christians, Hindus. The one group that flies below the radar is the influential and powerful Ismailis.

Like India, the electronic media in Pakistan is mostly passing through teething troubles. It is enamored of its own power. The sane voices there seldom rise above the cacophony of mediocrity and blandness.

If there were statesmen in Pakistan (and not wily politicians) in the aftermath of Mumbai Mayhem, they should have said to Manmohan Singh, "Let's join forces to fight this plague." Instead, media fed bellicosity and belligerency from both countries widened the gulf.

Media likes drama and there is no better developing story than war. They salivate at the thought of surgical strikes. It can only happen when the receiver is impotent...Gaza, West Bank, Iraq...or with the receiver's consent...as in the case of FATA and Nato/US drones.

The other Pervez...Ashfaq Pervez Kayani is the wild card here should Manmohan Singh succumbs to the war cry and order surgical strikes.

GoI has shown restraint and political acumen. Can Zardari be trusted to reciprocate it? The choice is stark - survival or conflagration and instability.

Instability will breed further instability in the region.

Saturday, December 18, 2010

Poessay: Rosary 24 - Monologue

Go for it yaar temporal. You bloody self effacing, self effusive, evasive temporal. Go jump in one h two o. You wanted to experience death. Go ahead. What is stopping you?

Nothing is stopping me. Even if I am reluctant to meet it, face I will - the inevitability. I will die like I have died many times before. You, me, him, her, believer, unbeliever, undecided all will hear that music. Six under or six over. So why not embrace it?

Embrace it? Death wish? Resignation? Wait. I am not in doubt. Youare. I do not care if a eighteen wheeler splashes my brain all over the tarmac. You do. You wonder how you would greet Death. What will it be like. Will there be a vision when you are flat lined. How soon the blood in the vein will coagulate. Soul - if there is one - how will it escape. Will you feel it. Does it float? Is it indomitable? Is it a part of a whole? Is it a prisoner?

Stop there. Do not overwhelm me with your rhetoric. It is I who poses queries - unresolved and raging within. You, you are just the shadow. With me every living moment. Deserting me when I die. I can and will question that phase. You cannot. I will, if I chose to, deny - deny life, death or soul. That is my sole prerogative.

Earlier:

Poessay: Rosary 11 - Creating In Isolation

Poessay: Rosary 12 - Kohled Eyes

Poessay: Rosary 13 - By the Lake

Poessay: Rosary 14 - Snow Flakes

Poessay: Rosary 15 - The Drop

Poessay: Rosary 16 - Ageless Quest - tishnagi

Poessay: Rosary 17 - Hemashree

Poessay: Rosary 18 - Burning blazing fire rages

Poessay: Rosary 19 - Word Whirlpool - BhaNwaur LafzouN Ka

Poessay: Rosary 20 - Thanksgiving I

Poessay: Rosary 21 - KhamOshi - Wordless

Poessay: Rosary 22 - A Simple Poem

Poessay: Rosary 23 - Musings

Poessay: Rosary 24 - Monologue

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

Poessay: Rosary 23: Musings

Edge of precipice. Cliff?
Diving board. Looking down into water.
Water?

Of hope.
What hope? Mirage. Shimmer. Illusion. Belief in the unseen. Acceptance.
Acceptance? With conviction.
Conviction of what? Faith or reasoning?

Of reason.
Rationality. Two plus...Cause and...Things not...
Self-existential illusions. Illusions or hoaxes? Certifiable?

Of faith.
Belief of unfathomed power. Recognizant of the unrecognised.
Unresolved nothingness. Ensconced nothingness. Transference.

Back to hope, reason, faith. Nothing.
What if nothing is the vacuum cementing life to death.

Oh death? The final dot. -30- Kaput. Kapitsh. End.

End, another beginning. Movement towards another dot. To other
unresolved queries. To other needs and desires. To know or to give
in.

Again.

Earlier:

Poessay: Rosary 11 - Creating In Isolation

Poessay: Rosary 12 - Kohled Eyes

Poessay: Rosary 13 - By the Lake

Poessay: Rosary 14 - Snow Flakes

Poessay: Rosary 15 - The Drop

Poessay: Rosary 16 - Ageless Quest - tishnagi

Poessay: Rosary 17 - Hemashree

Poessay: Rosary 18 - Burning blazing fire rages

Poessay: Rosary 19 - Word Whirlpool - BhaNwaur LafzouN Ka

Poessay: Rosary 20 - Thanksgiving I

Poessay: Rosary 21 - KhamOshi - Wordless

Poessay: Rosary 22 - A Simple Poem

Poessay: Rosary 23 - Musings

Tuesday, December 14, 2010

january 1, 2009

georgiou emptied the bins - coffee cups,
crushed cans, mickeys, wrappers, paper tissues
and sweeeping the Nathan Phillips Square
gathered frozen kisses, melting sighs,
discarded resolutions and shouted greetings
that had ushered in the first day of an uncertain year
as he went about methodically he knew he'd survive
- as would most in the west, relatively unscathed

the future is full of long shadows
for those in occupied Gaza, Somalia,
Darfur, FATA, Afghanistan, Iraq...
the world has shuttered the window
blinds drawn

wish you and those around you
health and peace for the coming months

having put in his hours in the chill
georgiou smiled pensively, took off work gloves
changed and went home

Monday, December 13, 2010

Poessay: I'm Not Dev Das and You're Not Anarkali

Permanence is a Utopian illusion. It is nurtured by groups that ferment a vested interest - popes, padres, rabbis, maulvis, pundits, financiers - purveyors of permanence.

Insomniac Dream Sellers of
Truth, Beauty, Wisdom, Courage, Love, Anger, Hatred

Sea
and Mountain
Enslaved and encircled with smile.

Then the smile melted
His?
Her's?
His smile melted her? Her smile melted him?
0r like the shivering polar ice
Melting under the rape of environment
Euphemism for global warming

Sea - the mother of transmogrification
-clouds, snow, rain, lakes, rivers
And completing the circle - sea

The circular reverberation
Womb - grave - womb
Is the tale of drops
spermatozoa
"Read, read in the names of thy Lord..."

***

for believers it is Him
for others some grand design
that would finally still
the drop
the last meltdown
when neither love
nor hate
will deter, defer, persuade or play
when the smile
will last for ever sans flesh

we, who indulge in super hate
we, who miss not an opportunity
to throw barbs, grenades
and uranium tipped mines and bombs
we, who excel at malevolence
- when will love conquer us?

yaadOn ka guldasta thamay*
sar-saratay sukoon maiN ghar'q
jub saa'yay hum aa ghosh hotay haiN
tou mudhoshi ki devi bhee
khud hee muskurati hogi
hosh apnay kho bethti hogi

ab tou yaad ki baiRiyouN maiN qaid
dabay qadmON t'ra tasawwur
youN chala aata hay kay
khood faraibi ka shaiba
bhee choo ker nahiN guzarta
choti ki is joostujoo maiN
khaai maiN girnay ka ehsaas kisay

said the bluebird to the bulbul
the simpleton is unaware
and the curmudgeon unconcerned
love has been cremated
in hiroshima

Man shorn of humanity is hurting and hurtling down the precipice, brakes worn, singling gaily, oblivious of the rushing winds of time, aware but not cognizant of the abyss.

_________________________________________________
* translation:

clutching the bouquet of memories
and drowned in the whispering quiet
as the shadows embrace
the goddess of intoxication
would smile at herself
while letting go of sobriety

bounded in memory-chains
your thoughts tiptoe
swirling and cascading
around whims and doubts

in the strive to conquer the peak
who thinks of a fall into the abyss

Sunday, December 12, 2010

A Different World Part II: Zina ul Haq's Debauchery

(Continued from A Different World Part I : A Travelogue of Sorts)

The irony is this: people on both side of the frontiers were predominantly Punjabis. Only fifty plus years back they spoke the same language, looked the same, shared similar culture and passions, but today they are different...not physically different...but in their mindset and attitude.

Zina-ul-Haq (Zina means rape: Haq is Truth – my coinage for the erstwhile dictator) induced religious stupor had flamed the latent fundamentalism and created such a wide gulf of intolerance and divide that most Pakistanis today accept segregation as the norm. Some even elevate it with piety. He unleashed his version of Islam that has polarized Pakistanis, increased the chasm not only between Sunnis and Shias but also between Sunnis themselves as well as fanning parochial differences between residents of all provinces.

The denial of one's roots and ersatz emphasis on a culture that was and is almost alien led to an influx of mental and sexual depravity. The orthodox misinterpreters of religion (read Islam) twist and bend the religious injunctions to satisfy their limited understanding and fetishes. This increase in provincialism, parochialism and ethnic diversity played well in the hands of manipulative politicians and the occupying army. Divide and Rule!

And it has also led to the killing of Pakistanis by other Pakistanis in the name of the same Allah.

Today's West Punjab and indeed Pakistan is set on a different course. Not the one envisioned by any of her founders or detractors in their wildest hallucination.

Off the intersection of Aram Bagh Road and Bunder Road, now M. A Jinnah Road, the Pakistani equivalent of Indian cities' Gandhi Margs, there is a side street. To the south is Dow Medical College and to the north is Pakistan Chowk. At the end of this side street there is a gurdwara, I was told. I had dragged M through the traffic, dirt and pollution but all we could see was the walls. The side street was a furniture market and unless you knew there was a gurdwaraonce there you would miss it.

In Mata: Meem, Alif, Tay, Alif I had written about visiting some of the mandirs in Karachi:

Karachi has lots of mandirs. And there are a few functioning ones too that I visited. There is one in Clifton, one across from the KMC building on M A Jinnah Road, one near the old Native Jetty Bridge, two in Soldier Bazaar and one in Amil Colony # 2 near the Islamia College. And there is a crumbling one on the beach in Manora that ravages of time has turned into a crumbling structure.
The Lakshmi Narayan Mandir across from KMC building on M. A. Jinnah road is in a compound. When we visited it one afternoon, the mandir was closed and some boys were playing cricket nearby. One twelve year old asked us if we were Hindus. M smiled and said she is aninsaan. The kid nodded wisely.
Tu Hindu banayga na Musalmaan banayga
Insaan ki aulad hay insaan banayga

Neither a Hindu nor Muslim will you be
A human you are, a human you shall be
Another day we visited one in Soldier Bazaar. One thing is imprinted on my mind from that visit. Inside the sanctum sanctorium on the far wall Mata was spelled in glittering Urdu lettering, about two feet high - meem-alif-tay-alif. Mata was written in multicolored glitter ribbons, the kind used in garlands and for decorating the bridal car. Mata: Meem, Alif, Tay, Alif

Karachi is perhaps in the top twenty cities of the world by population. It citizens are always on the go and unaware of its history and heritage. Less than one in twenty Karachite is aware of a fort in Karachi. It is a city of affluence and poverty - of palaces and mansions with high walls, private zoos, monitoring cameras and Kalshnikov carrying guards and jhuggis and huts. In a nation where prohibition is the law, more alcohol is consumed than can ever be imagined to the loss of the exchequer. The private bars of individuals would shame the sommelier of a seven star establishment.

In one evening friends spend more at the BarBQ Hut or Coppper Kettle than the average monthly salaries of their drivers and servants. The poor can be seen lining outside modest hotels in the evening, where the affluent drive by and pay up for the meals for 20 or 30 people.

The middle class wants to shrivel and disappear. It is despondent and despairing.

Lawlessness is rampant and its acceptance is annoying for the casual visitor. Almost everyone you meet has had their cellphones snatched or robbed at gun point at least once. Every acquaintance you meet has a home robbery tale for you.

My notes for the trip - names, places, times and photos stored on the Palm Treo were lost to a gun totting polite robber. "Uncle, please give me your cell phone." With the gun inches away from the stomach, there were few options available. The phone was replaced the next day but it took me a long time to get over the loss of those notes.

Saturday, December 11, 2010

Israel & Palestine: Force Is Never the Solution

First published here December 29, 2008.

Taking advantage of the lame duck Presidency of Bush, the deliberate distancing of President Elect there-is-only-one-president Obama, the holidays in the West and the attending low emphasis of politicians, Israeli Air Force launched a devastating attack on Gaza.

Israel is the non NPT signatory Occupier in the Gaza Strip and the West Bank, Golan and East Jerusalem, aided (up to 5 billion a year) and abetted by the West.

President of the Palestinian Authority Mahmood Abbas is perceived as an Palestinian Uncle Tom and he was soundly beaten in the elections by Hamas.

The infamous US dichotomy re: democracy sprung into action and immediately cut off all aid to Hamas in the Gaza Strip. It also twisted its allies and lackeys' arms (including Canada's) to do the same. This US amnesiac approach is well documented and understood globally. Do as I say, not as I do.

Hamas leadership did not go to the same school.

This latest foray into the Gaza Strip would wane away sooner or later. But the violence and "terrorism" it would spawn would perpetuate the cycle for long.

Can anything be done to avoid the unnecessary spiralling of violence? I have written about the solution before here: Peace With Dignity: Another Gift For Israel

Criticizing Zionism is NOT anti-Semitism. States do not exist without an “official” map. Israel has to exist. Its citizens have a right to live in peace and harmony within its defined borders. They forget that to ensure this its neighbors should also have the same rights.
Both Israel and Palestinians have to demonstrate more effectively that they want to live in peace and do not want to kill, maim, expel from their land. It is for them to deliberate and decide if this should come under One State of Two State solution.

The world should help them reach this decision but should not refrain to remind Israel that it should curb its policies of occupation, subjugation, ethnic cleansing, and terrorising.

We should encourage initiatives that will let all Israelis and Palestinians to live in peace, with dignity, justice and guaranteed fundamental human rights in secure borders, as enshrined in the various UN resolutions.
To remove misgivings, doubts and suspicions, international bodies including the UN, the European Union, OIC should be enlisted to provide guarantees. Peace in the region is not to be equated with death for the state of Israel.

Israel portrays itself as the David but acts as the Goliath in the region. Here are the (boxing preliminary) statistics of Israel and the Palestinians of the occupied Gaza Strip.

The Occupier Goliaths

High quality tanks 970
Medium and low quality tanks 1830
APCs, IFVs, ARVs, LCVs 6930
Self-propelled artillery 1204
Combat warplanes 875
Transport warplanes 84
Training warplanes 171
Military helicopters 286
Heavy SAM batteries 25
Warships 13
Submarines 3
Patrol boats 50 50
nuclear bombs over 300-500

The Occupied Davids

Five major militant factions operate in Gaza. These are the Islamic groups Hamas and Islamic Jihad; the Al Aqsa Martyrs' Brigade, which is loosely tied to Abbas' Fatah faction; the Popular Resistance Committees, a shadowy umbrella group; and the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine. The size of the groups is unclear, but they are equipped with assault rifles, mortars, anti-tank missiles, homemade rockets and other explosives.

****

The point neoconzix in Israel and the West refuse to fathom: force is never the solution.

Friday, December 10, 2010

Poessay: Rosary 22 - A Simple Poem

love me or let me go

the crooner sang
as i channel surfed,
ate, walked, read,
intermittently gazed
at this ball point
wrote, paused and
pondered over the feel
of all the pens have possessed
ball points with fine points
blue, black, red, even green
old fashioned ink filled pens
ah the old parker
the zee nibs, the ink pots
stained hands and clothes
the set of unused calligraphy pens
pens with cushy holders
handcrafted tops
folding pens for travel
thin pens, modulated pens
and reminisced
the feel of my favourite pen
a pen warm and flowing
comfortably imprisoning wayward words

laikin kalam qal`m ka marhoon e minnat kahaaN?
aamud hoti hay kalam ki
phir woh sadiON seena ba seena
musafat tay karta hu`aye
safha e zaati say safha e qartaas per
kabhi youN muntakil hota hay
kay paRhnay wala baisakhta bOl oothay
`wallah! kya baat paida ki hay dost
yehi baat tO m`ray dil maiN thee
yehi baat tO maiN kehna chahta thaa...`

words
ensconced in dictionaries
listless and trembling
only a writer's pen
can furnish them a soul

through the centuries, bosom to bosom
brain to brain, to impulses, to fingers
to pen, to ink, to paper
the journey enigmatic, intricate and involved

flawlessly the moving finger infuses
words - simple, loaded
burnished in the heart
and when reader reads
s/he simply nods in agreement
at the palpitations shared

i get up
fetch some water
return, read, surf
write and rewrite
as the crooner sings
…or love me forever…

Earlier: