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Wednesday, August 31, 2005

ismat chughtai

#2766 Ismat Chughtai`s Autobiography -- A Transalation on November 11, 2000
Lubna #6

My understanding is they lived 'au-pair' and he was/is Hindu.

As for Ismat being a role model let me ask a rhetorical question.

Who would you select for a life partner: (am oversimplifying a bit but you will understand)

(a) A Muslim who prays five times daily, pays zakat, fasts during Ramadaan but lies occasionally, cheats on taxes, drinks on the side and once in a while consorts with call girls.

(b) A non-Muslim who maybe an atheist or agnostic but is sensitive, considerate and a good 'corporate' citizen.

The answer should be obvious. But given the choice, what I find interesting to speculate about is what would God do?....well, that is His problem....really :)


sac #5

Muniba has posted an excellent reply. Cannot add much to it.


scout #10

The results of a quick net search.

Professor M Asaduddin of Jamia Milla has translated excerpts from her autobiography:

Autobiographical Fragments
Ismat Chughtai

(Excerpted from Ismat Chughtai's autobiography, Kaghazi Hai Pairahan)

Translated from Urdu by Prof. M. Asaduddin
more at

http://www.freespeech.org/manushi/110/ismat.html


Rekindling an Old Fire

Ismat Chughtai made Urdu the language of rebellion
By Gillian Wright

ISMAT: HER LIFE, HER TIMES
EDITED BY SUKRITA
PAUL KUMAR & SADIQUE
KATHA
PAGES: 287


Rekindling an Old Fire Ismat Chughtai made Urdu the language of rebellionBy Gillian WrightISMAT: HER LIFE, HER TIMESEDITED BY SUKRITA PAUL KUMAR & SADIQUEKATHAPAGES: 287 This is a fun and imaginative book. As a concept it's wonderful -- literary criticism, biography and autobiography, with lots of photos, box items and memorabilia -- a real guide book to Ismat Chughtai, one of Urdu's great modern writers and script/story writer of a bevy of Hindi films, particularly the moving Balraj Sahni starrer about Partition, Garam Hawa.To recreate her times Katha's editors have brought together all her "set" at a period when being a writer was truly exciting, when it mattered, when, and many of them were, of course, communists, and thought they could change society. The contributors read like a who's who of modern Urdu writing -- there's Faiz Ahmad Faiz, Sadat Hasan Manto, Krishan Chander and Qurratulain Hyder commenting on Ismat.Hyder sums her up very well as "Lady Chenghez Khan, because in the battlefield of Urdu literature she was a Chughtai -- an equestrian and an archer who never missed the mark". Hyder writes from experience. Ismat had used her for target practice in an essay entitled "Pom Pom Darling", a reference to Hyder's elitist duck-shooting characters.The question arises -- who is this book for? Priced at Rs 395 and in English its most likely readers are going to be people whose first language is English. However, they should have heard that Ismat is great, and ideally have read some of her works translated into English -- most likely Lyhaaf (The Quilt). This was the story for which she faced the trial for obscenity because of a lesbian scene between a lady and her maid. This compilation reveals that Lyhaaf, great though it was, hung like an albatross around Ismat's neck for the rest of her life, overshadowing her other writing which deserved just as much attention.The book provides for its readers a real insight into her character, her loves, her likes. She was a flirt, a wit, a born rebel and a fearless speaker of her mind. Ismat brought a new idiom to Urdu prose, the language of the urban and semi-urban middle class, and a new awareness of the woman's point of view and the oppression she faced and faces.It is important that here for the first time a number of chapters from Kaghazi Hai Pairahan, the nearest Ismat ever came to an autobiography, appear in English. The drawback is that the translation is in places sloppy. I will give one tiny example, not because it's the worst, but because it's the first. The translation of Ismat's words reads, "A heartless brute was beating a hapless, dark child." The original, however, has no P.G. Wodehouse-ian "heartless brute". It is more like, "One person was beating another mercilessly. The person doing the beating was tall and strongly built, and the one being beaten a rather frail and extremely black child."I'm not sure whether the fault lies with the translator or in excessive editing. The introduction admits that translators for many articles "knew Urdu" but had to work from Devnagari as they could not read the Urdu script. Ismat Chughtai was in favour of printing Urdu in Devnagari to save the language from extinction. However, if you are embarking on literary translation, ideally you should be familiar with its literature. With Urdu that means taking the trouble to learn the alphabet. It's not difficult to do and I am sure the results would show that it was worth it.

Two more reviews of the same book

Torchbearer of a literary revolution
Ismat Chughtai, enfant terrible of Urdu literature, has been accused of having a limited choice of subject matter. That is true, for she wrote of only what she knew at first hand. But within these limits she perfected her art, giving the greatest shock that an artist can ever give her readers, says RAKHSHANDA JALIL.

A BOLD and unconventional woman

http://www.the-hindu.com/2000/05/21/stories/1321017u.htm


Inscribing the Rebel reviewer sara rai

A haphazard but welcome tribute to Urdu's first lady

ISMAT: HER LIFE; HER TIMES
Edited by Sukrita Paul Kumar and Sadique
Katha
Rs 395; Pages: 287

http://www.outlookindia.com/20000410/books.htm


And an english translation of the lihaaf:

The Quilt
by Ismat Chughtai

(Translated by Syeda Hameed
http://www.humanistmovement.org/hs/jan99/quilt.html
________________________________


love and rgds

t

juggernauting identity tags

part i

what kind of muslim are you?



ajmer say bulawa aata hay jub hee koi ja pata hay

_____________________________________________________


...a red-eyed traveler arrived at the ajmer railway station in the wee hours...at the platform he was immediately accosted by a sherwani...clad young man of his age...where are you from?...have you come for the ziarat? what is your name?

...the traveler was polite but firm in his non-answers...all he wanted to do was freshen up, brush his teeth, have something to eat, see the mazar, recite fateha take in the surroundings and move on to pushkar lake...but this sherwani...clad man kept pestering him with queries and refused to go away...

...it is a fifteen minute walk from the station to the dargah bazaar and then the inner courtyard flanked by two huge beautifully carved doors...just before the entrance the traveler found a roadside eatery and ordered scrambled eggs and tea...hoping the pest would leave him alone...it seemed to work and he disappeared from view...after the third cup of doodh-patti the now refreshed traveler paid his bill and entered the gates...`these daigs cauldrons were gifted by the mughals...the pest was back at his side!...

...there are two huge cauldrons ... the bigger one has a capacity of 4480 kg and the smaller one 2240 kg... food is cooked in them and distributed to the pilgrims and visitors...there were bamboo ladders attached to the sides of one of them and a crew was washing the insides of one of them...

...and the pest stuck like a shadow to the traveler...

...inside the courtyard there is the dargha and a mosque and chambers, big and small...and signboards...the signboards declaring this hujrah (chamber) belongs to the successors of hazrat falana falana and that hujrah belonged to the successors of that hazrat falana falana...there must be 40 plus chambers in there…all the hazarats ostensibly must have been noble souls but the present day occupants ... the gadee nashins seem like capitalizing on simpletons...

...there is a a la carte price for vicariously offering offerings, pledges, duas on behalf of absentee muslims in the diaspora...their mailing list is legendary...year in and year out they send out pledge cards and donation solicitations to muslims all over he world completed with self-addressed envelopes and bank account numbers for electronic transfers of funds...

...the traveller looked around...the floor was marbled and being cleaned...in places cracked...their was a raised platform around the grave of the saint...as the traveler climbed up to have a look at the sepulcher and offer fateha he saw the intricately woven marble screen around it and silver railings around the huge grave covered in chador...

...at the entrance to the chamber the pest in black sherwani jumped forward and by way of introduction mentioned to a middle aged fellow sitting cross legged behind a low floor desk that the traveler was mr. so an so from TO...the fellow exchanged traditional greetings with the traveler and then forwarded a register…when the traveler ignored that thrust he made a point of asking the traveler to put his name and address down on the register...the traveler wanted to know why...he was told everyone who comes for ziarat signs the register and makes a donation...so that is what the scam was, the traveler said to himself...

... 'no, I won't sign this register and I am not here to make any donation' ...the man behind the desk tried to persuade but in vain...finally asking the traveler 'why are you here then'...

'am here to offer fateha, look around and leave' ...

... 'cover your head before you go in there' man behind the desk curtly informed the traveler

...by now the traveler was quite piquant to say mildly

...he glared at the man behind the desk... 'janab hum aisay hee khulay sir andar jaayengay' (sir, I will enter the inner chamber bare headed...

'no you cannot enter bare headed'

'why?'

'because everyone who enters has to cover the head'
'but i won’t cover my head...it does not say here anywhere…the only sign i saw was to remove the shoes...besides....explain to me this sir...i have been to the haram shareef (kaaba, mecca) and musjid e nabvi (prophet's mosque, medinah) with bare head…so what is so greater about this place?'

'that is a different thing,' the man behind the desk said

'no, it is not'

'what kind of muslim are you?' said the man behind the desk, trying to wriggle out

'i don't know...possibly a very bad muslim...possibly a big gunahgaar...but sir, i know this...i am a better than muslim than you are or can ever be' saying this the traveler raised his hands to offere a fateha from the outside...turned back without entering the inner chamber...invited the man behind the desk to come outside the dargah area so the traveler can throw some choice words at him (he declined)...and left for pushkar...

part ii

what kind of hindu are you?


...your traveler arrived at bhubaneshwar, the sleepy capital of orissa in the east...dubbed as the golden triangle...with Konark and Puri...at Konark he visited the Sun Temple…once the chariot shaped temple boasted of a huge dome atop the temple being pulled by twenty four wheeled chariot...each stone wheel intricately carved and about ten feet in diameter...

...once boasting 700 temples, bhubaneshwar still has a few temples of worth but serves more as a conduit to Puri and KOnark...a major portion of the Sun Temple has survived the ravages of time...beware of the guides who try to push the porn...they are a nuisance...

...next stop the famous juggenath temple at puri...the traveler walked up the narrow lanes and arrived at one of the gates to the temple known as lion gate...a little way inside he is welcomed by a prohit...a temple pujari in saffron...

'aaiyay, aaiyay maharaj, swagatam, swagatam! bhagwan kay darshan kernay aa'aye haiN? yahaN apna naam pata likhyay aur hastaakchur ker deejiyay'

...and a pen and register is thrust in front of him...the traveler smiles recalling the earlier confrontation at ajmer...he smile some more...this time more pleas are hurled at him…and then finally

...'bhagwan kay naam pay bheee dakshina nahiN daiga, tu kaisa hindoo hay?'

...'aap say achcha'...the traveler says and moves away...some things do not change…no wonder the bearded one considered this sort of religion an opiate...there are set prices here too for some services...check this:

Gopal ballabha bhog (early morning bhog) - Rs. One Thousand
Sakal dhupa bhog (morning bhog) - Rs. Five Thousand
Madhyanha dhupa bhog (midday bhog) - Rs. Twenty Thousand
Sandhya dhupa bhog (evening bhog) - Rs. Ten Thousand
Badasinghar dhupa bhog (night bhog) - Rs. Three Thousand
Combined Five Raj-bhogs of the day - Rs. Thirty Thousand

...leaving the huge temple complex he comes out on the grand road...reminding him of a widened mall road…shops on either side...slowly being replaced by eight ten storey buildings with shops in the lower levels...the rest of the front along the road was like any other town...shops, stores, kiosks, vendors...

...he looked up and saw a sign for a terrace restaurant...went up and took a table by the grand road...there were no other customers at that time in the restaurant...from this height he could take in the temple entrance, the temples in the distance and the hub of the bazaar below...he took in the activities recording it on his vidcam...

...down the centuries this widened grand road is the path they follow once a year when the three murtis are taken to the other temple on chariots pulled by devotees...with all the attendant acrobats and dhols and chants and mantras...

...these festivities gave birth to a word in English...juggernaut

...the irony is apparent...major religions are juggernauting their followers unabashedly

__________________________________________

Note: the traveler was being facetious when he informed the purohit and the gaddi-nashin that he was a better muslim/hindu...he is struggling and barely succeeding to be a better insaan

Tuesday, August 30, 2005

eavesdropping

A: in fact friendships and relationships when tested by adversity come off stronger when faced collectively (with awareness)

B: i just have the nagging fear that no good deed goes unpunished...can't get rid of that...

A: well....my friend....i suspect you have fallen....hook, line and sinker as cliche goes...is that so?….don’t answer yet…if that is so...then forget all the discussions we have had…pack bags and elope, flee, run…you will be happier…

B: happier? i'd keep my sanity, my peace of mind...but would i be happier.. to quote Walcott: "When have I loved and not loved the pain of love?"

A: "To love and fail makes for better memoirs than to love not and write"

B: "I prefer a nice cup of tea, myself"...DH Lawrence

A: one sec...(the great A is looking into his bag of tricks...oops bags of quotes to repair and refurbish!) "Happiness is a state of mind; fuller stomachs have more to contribute towards it than horizontal muscle toning exercises"

B: "Man can't make love on empty belly"

A: "Man can't make love on empty belly"...wrong! "True love follows the true lover: give me a bottle rather than a burger any day", cry of the true mavericks

B: heheh

A: one last one "It's true marriages are made in heaven: but we have to work every single moment to make a success of it"

sadequain

a newly married couple visiting Sadequain presented him his odd sized (8x5”) jute bound copy of Rubaiyyat e Sadequain for an autograph…he made small talk…asked where were they visiting from and saw a young couple in love …oblivious of most things around them…he smiled and wrote this rubaii in their book:

qal'laash hooN yeh khabar suna dooN aye shOkh
naq'qaash hoon yeh tuj'h ko bata dooN aye shOkh
rangON hee say moo' qalam say gardan pay t’ri
MaiN kyuN na gulu'bund bana dooN aye shOkh!

Monday, August 29, 2005

a few words on love for ss

who among us has the courage to love?

love? ain't that rare as sincerity?
love? ain't that rare as...well, courage?
courage? as in telling it like it is?
courage? as in courage of conviction?

we love to babble gabble
till the chickens come home...
me, mine, i and a period
with an all-encompassing finality

and of course we love distant shores
far away idols, bustees we left behind
memories of memories ensconced
or rotting - little do we know

courage?
surely we're no cowards
so what if we sit here
and criticize this person, that leader
governments in power, leaders in exile
anyone disagreeing with our truths

it's all in courage, it's all in courage
i keep hearing voices tell me
it's all in courage sans conviction

love-in in the shadows: hollow grin meets weak knees

vajapayee musharraf agra meet

love-in in the shadows: hollow grin meets weak knees

where is the pit in the stomach
where this unease is supposed to be?

believers of this god or that idol
play with lives innocent
death a provocation
a proclamation to the world
death merely a tool as life gasps
a press release is faxed

would lose out if peace prevails
these believers from ganges, indus
hence this unease
like the eve of the other meets past
in innocent blood spills I fear

on this eve of the love-in
in the shadows of marble arches
tough hollow grin meets
determined weak knees

smiles and hand shakes and pats galore
beaming and beamed in space
from under the shadows of monument

there will be agreements aplenty
promoting peace and friendship
and promises will be made
to keep, to placate, to break
but will it help where it is needed?

will they build more latrines
yes, dignity of the common man
matters with me

patience is a virtue.

patience, virtue's soul
.................or harlot?
stretched and spread thin
(remember, we're six billion?)
thinning ozone like
not enough to go around
gaps and holes let in
no light, dream or smile
but dark visions of an end
that waits -- patiently

(...and they say words are mightier than most sharp objects...)

wedding photos of psalim and psalma

Comrade Asimov Hyatinsky # 19:

Salut!

Ba'ad adab guzarish hai kay raqim chotay 't' walay qabilay say hay. Is qabilay ka silsila oos daur say milta hay jub insaan insaan tha aur musulman musulman -- na woh sunni thaa na shia --na hanafi thaa na shafii na.... ummeed hay aap humara matlab samajh rahaiN haiN.

inayat-mund,

t as in r-s-t-u-v- waghera waghera

PS: Aap ki un-likhi farmaish par ik aur post-post script haazir hay! Moucho gracias for 'supplying' the 'full-toss' when you mentioned....."The last wedding reception that i vaguely remember attending was almost 5 years ago, in Lahore. They say one does not remember one's own wedding so well. Perhaps, that's why the wedding video philosophy is so popular such that the groom's memory can be jogged." Chalo, bhayee, aap paanch saal maiN hee bhul rahaiN haiN --- ya bhool rahay thay --- lakin kum-bakht video aap ko bhoolnay nahiN deta hay. But to be honest even if you want to forget the zaalim zamana would not let you forget it ---once you cross the barrier --- the presence of the wedding band --- the absence of it on the finger --- the genetic finger print carriers that may result from any such encounters --- no, change that to unmitigated fiascos --- encounters still have a pleasant ring to it in my ears --- so these off-springs or 'issues' as an old timer once enquired of me --- much to my perplexity then --- are a constant reminders of things that could have gone right --- even brother hamidm occasionally and rather wistfully reminds us --- and then much before the advent of these cyber links, the globe was wired through some inexplicable cosmic connection --- one bites the bullet --- and all your friends in the small black book on the other side of the globe get a loud, buzzing beeper --- at least that is what I felt --- but mother time has dulled the pain --- for me --- so take heart --- ignore the video and listen to the heartbeat --- look for the magic through the mental eyes --- they are more disconcerting and unforgiving --- and helpful ---oh--- I almost forgot --- these wedding videos are an international consipracy by pharmaceutical conglomerates to help increase the sale of aspirin, tylenol etc.--- (Chowk Editor: surely you didn't think I would go on a personal rampage in this valuable space reserved for Globalisation? I mean -- come on -- I could not be that irresponsible? Mostly, you say? What do you mean? okay, okay I may have slipped the odd time --- but wait -- let us hear from urstruly --kiyouN bhayee kiya yeh aap kay mazmoon kay saath ziyadti ho rahi hay?--- ummeed hay aap such say kabhi kabhi parhaiz kartay hoNgay --- tou janab, if there were no wedding videos where the people don't talk and Bollywood songs scream at full throttle -- where you learn unwanted details about the video-grapher --- and the way bride and the groom spell their names Psalim and Psalma --- so --- if there were no wedding videos how could unsuspecting and often gullible people like you and me would have to endure 1: the rushes (all five 120 min. tapes) 2: The edited version (2x120 min and that is Mehndi and Nikah only) and finally 3: the edited version TWICE with the sound added --- twice becasue the first time invariably some important family elder was in coma and couldn't make it to the 'screening' -- can you imagine how much I have contributed alone to the bottom line of these multi-nationals? ---- I almost gave up my religion and started looking for a religion that bans these videos -- or perhaps forbids glorification of all legal, illegal, moral, immoral, ethical unethical pleasurable or painful sexual contacts --- now that is a subject out of context for the present -- so until next time -- as ferozk says -- ciao.

on maharaj's perfect pledge philip marchand

A Perfect Pledge
by Rabindranath Maharaj
Knopf Canada, 401 pages, $32.95



With the publication of the latest novel by Ajax's Rabindranath Maharaj, the cane fields of his native Trinidad have become as much a province of the Canadian imagination as the Montreal of Mordecai Richler, the Vancouver Island of Jack Hodgins, the Toronto suburbs of Barbara Gowdy, even the Bombay of Rohinton Mistry.

A Perfect Pledge is a novel that examines a Trinidadian village with the same merciless eye as those great naturalistic novels of the late 19th and early 20th centuries, with the same ugly details of everyday life in the foreground, the same sense of people struggling against an environment destined to crush them.

Philip Marchand

Sunday, August 28, 2005

karachi of old


Shahzad:


I really enjoyed your reminisces...am from the same karachi and have somewhat similar memories...in fact I did a series on Karachi some years back...on what used to a precursor of the present 'unplugged' section...

some digressions:

--show me a city unchanged in the last 25 years and I will show you moenjo daro

--this writer (shahzad) has every right to reminisce about his past as he choses…if he was born with a silver spoon and if he choses to mention that I see nothing wrong...

--http://www.koshish.org/ looks good...just had a cursory look…will check out later in detail...somebody who intends to retire back in Karachi asked me about volunteering time there...after i have checked it out might recommend this to him...

--all cities have 'other' sides of the track or river…the poor bustees and the enclaves for the rich…in third world countries such divides are more pronounced…

--the real Karachi--keamari (an island really)...khara and meetha dars, (mahim maher did couple of excellent articles on them)...garikhata and pakistan chowk areas and the upscale old garden and jamshed road colonies (aamil colony, sindhi colony)...

--things that can be added if this is expanded and revised:

*pidc pan wallah
*hanifiya
*grand hotel in malir
*dhabeji falls
*the still functioning mandirs (opp. Kmc, two in solider bazaar area, one near islamia college, at the foot of native jetty, Clifton)
*the synagogue at lawrence road, ranchor lines
*the zoroatrian temple, and across from it adam sumar's bakery ( and the ford model T)
*the talpur fort at manora island (a rather well kept secret: mainly because pak navy controls the island)
*the old aero club on country club road (now engulfed by various gulshans)

fading with a smile - for sammi

thank you samina shah for your words
alacri(t)ous, resonating, quivering
will overlook the hint
(mistaking the message for the messenger)
do i wonder, do i dare
is there a recourse
is my head or heart on the block
no, no, can't be me
we are ( M and I) well on the way
to merge into one-ness
of mores, manners, bent,
of all consuming intensity
of hurts, scars and moments
with the longing of tides for the shores
birds for spring branches
of lovers entwined by masters
.......................in marble
before fading with a smile
into today's morrow
or tomorrow's past

Let There be Light...

shandy


Let there be light
She said without slight
And there was a bang at midnight
He stood there awashed in the starlight
Holding a girl in one arm and a blight...

For survival the baby fights
Using charms of birthright
While he is in the field cutting cucumbers
She tends to burping and messy diapers

End of the day in sight
Baby still wide awake in tights
Means no dinner with candlelight
Shandy takes aims at her blacknight
And even swipes bystanding men in her sight.

Let there be light
Let there be light
She said not so fast Bud-light

Forgive me, Danny

Now you are wiser

now you are wiser
dear danny up there
you time was up
you had to leave

now you are wiser
you know you were caught
in a storm of
not our own making
the vicious wheels of
injustice grind
and innocents are
as is writ in fate
caught in them again
and again 'n again

now you are wiser
and rid of all pains
but the injustice
and showers of death
come unabated
we wait in silence
sheep in abattoir
our turn will come soon


because we are the
silent, living dead.

lament/shikwa II

lament
shikwa


as god (you remember my god smiles?)
showed adam the door,
said leave, leave for your temporal abode
adam, the first poet, had he published
am sure would have opted for temporal
as his pseudonym,
am not sure, am positive he would be
the first temporal!

...and so on and on...

therefore my dear cute chowk editors
and janab khamkwa
confess i to be temporal bin temp
or temporal bin temporal bin temp
or temporal bin temp bin tempu bin...
or simply temporal, sweet and short.

shukria, urstruly, cmp99,
veeresh, Jawahara, Ana, afrasiyab,
nasah, nazar, Ras, aamir, shandy,
Ahmedzai, kashaziz and others
a big fat thanks....

and you! do not fume
will write, call, sing, dance, shortly
demarcation is a must
'cause my god smiles always
while their god breathes fire and rage.

branding game

The New Raj: or Classic Colonialism

as an outcome of their decades old bi-polar approach to decision making the military-industry-business triumvirate in the US cannot function without a real or imagined enemy in their gun sights...please consider this:

--when that enemy is not there...or when the enemy has weakened or fallen or turned less hostile it is time to take a fix at another enemy...

--without this perceived opponent their motivation and rationale dies out...the academicians cannot churn our papers and studies to create a climate of distrust and hate to inflate an opponent...

--using those studies the big business cannot sell mega-projects to the congress...without the 'public' opinion and 'public' pressure that is thus created the congress cannot pass multi-billion dollar budgets to sustain the greed and hunger of the big business

--and the white house?...it is just a pawn… the Great Facilitator...in the game...nothing more, nothing less…the intelligence of the Great Leader is exaggerated...you could have a talking inflated balloon there...as long as the white house aides do their homework;)

(apologise: this is getting longer!)

now...surprise surprise...we live in a uni-polar world...the US military-industry-business conditioned to live and thrive in a bi-polar world need to create an enemy...enters a pious looking Osama...real, imagined or 'created'… and comes 9/11…the rest is the Mother of All Deceptions…the marketing of the brand-name Al Qaeda...to drive fear in the collective psyche of the West…with its attendant fall-out in the East...where some actually revere him...

...the 'fringe' groups...the fundos of the west are equally as bad as they have built al qaeda to be...but as you hinted they are local and with connections in media and politics...they can get away with it all...

...my final thought...

...this is not a war between Christianity and Islam...get this right please...this war and any subsequent wars it nurtures are to use a cliche a war between the Have and the Have-nots...between the West and the RoW...between North and South...and yes, this is the New Raj...though classic old Colonialism.

Professor Annemarie Schimmel - khaled ahmed

Obituary: Professor Annemarie Schimmel

'Pakistan didn't even wait for me to die'

Khaled Ahmed

The road along the Lahore canal, from the Mall to Jail Road, was named
after Goethe; but the road across the canal was dedicated to
Annemarrie Schimmel. The twin roads are a befitting symbol of
Pakistan's special relationship with Germany created by Pakistan's
national poet during his academic sojourn there in the beginning of
the 20th century. Schimmel used to say laughingly: "Pakistan didn't
even wait for me to die before naming a road after me"

The first disciple of Rumi in our times was Allama Iqbal. In his
Persian magnum opus "Javidnamah", Rumi was his Virgil. Annemarie
Schimmel, the greatest living authority on Islamic culture and
civilisation who passed away yesterday, loved Iqbal and Rumi with
equal intensity. When she came to Lahore in 1996 to deliver a lecture
on "Islam and the West" at the Goethe Institut, she was hardly in her
room at Hotel Avari for 10 minutes when the phone bell rang and
someone requested her for a meeting. She said she was booked for every
hour of the day until June 1997, which included her Iqbal Lecture in
London.

She had delivered a lecture on Rahman Baba in Peshawar in Pashtu,
which, together with Sindhi, she thought more difficult than her first
love, Turkish. (Linguists are agreed that Turkish is one of the most
difficult languages to learn.) She loved Sindh, admired its
intellectuals, tolerant culture, and its great poet Shah Abdul Latif
on whom she wrote a book. She remembered fondly Sindh's foremost
intellectual, Allama I.I. Kazi and his disciple Pir Hisamuddin Rashdi,
and visited the Makli tombs many times. Sitting in a cafe in Bonn
once, journalist Tony Rosini told me in a whisper that she wanted to
be buried at Makli.

In 1982, she had requested the government of Pakistan to name a road
after Goethe, the German national poet that Iqbal admired, on the
occasion of his 150th birth anniversary. But Pakistan went one better.
The road along the Lahore canal, from the Mall to Jail Road, was named
after Goethe; but the road across the canal was dedicated to
Annemarrie Schimmel. The twin roads are a befitting symbol of
Pakistan's special relationship with Germany created by Pakistan's
national poet during his academic sojourn there in the beginning of
the 20th century. Schimmel used to say laughingly: "Pakistan didn't
even wait for me to die". She was in her mid eighties, in good health,
with a mind whose clarity was astounding.

She was recognised by the Islamic world for her knowledge of Islamic
civilisation. When she went to Egypt lecturing in Arabic about
classical Arab poetry, she was received by President Hosni Mubarak.
She lectured in Yemen, Syria and Morocco, talking about a heritage
that most Arabs have forgotten. In Tunis, she introduced the
revivalist thought of Allama Iqbal; in Teheran, she spoke in Persian
about the love of the Holy Prophet (PBUH) in Rumi, disabusing today's
revolutionary Islamists of the misconceptions made current about the
great Sufis of the past. She was in Uzbekistan talking to the Uzbeks
about their great Muslim heritage. "If an Uzbek speaks slowly I can
understand him, and I can answer in Osmanli", she used to say.

Her first love was Pakistan and Pakistan responded to her in equal
measure. She fondly remembered the Governor of the State Bank of
Pakistan, Mumtaz Hassan, the great teacher of philosophy M.M. Sharif,
the historian S.M. Ikram, the scholar Khalifa Abdul Hakim and Pir
Hisamuddin Rashdi, who welcomed her again and again to Pakistan when
she was young. She recalled her Urdu lecture on Iqbal in Government
College Lahore in 1963 on the invitation of Bazm-e-Iqbal. Befittingly,
Allama Iqbal's son, Dr Javid Iqbal, is a devotee who often visited her
at her residence on Lennestrasse in Bonn. When national awards were
set up, she received the highest of them, Hilal-e-Imtiaz and
Sitara-e-Quaid-e-Azam.

She was so completely at ease with her subject that she hardly
realised that she was working so hard, teaching at Bonn University
since 1961, and at Harvard University since 1970. The Islamic world
did not ignore her work. She received the First Class Award for Art
and Science from Egypt's president Hosni Mubarak, and a Gold Medal
from Turkey for her services to Turkish cultural heritage. Austria
gave her the prestigious Hammar-Purgstall prize; Los Angeles had given
her the Della Vida award for Excellence in Islamic Studies; Germany
bestowed upon her the famous Ruecart Medal and Voss Medal for
Translation; and the Union of German Publishers recently gave her
their highest Peace Prize which she treasured. There are many other
German awards that celebrated her work in the promotion of
understanding between religions.

Annemarrie Schimmel was born in Erfurt, a town that fell to East
Germany after the Second World War, in the family of a civil servant
who greatly loved poetry and philosophy. She recalled reading the
German classics at home, including the poetry of Rilke. Her interest
in the Orient grew out of the classical trend of treating oriental
themes in German poetry and drama. When she was seven, the parents
already knew she was a special child on whom normal laws of upbringing
couldn't be applied. At 15, she was able to get hold of a teacher of
Arabic who had a taste in Arabic classical poetry. Her second love was
Turkish which she learned before she went to the university. Her
subject led her to Persian, which she learned enough to be smitten by
the poetry of Rumi.

She regretted that she didn't learn English well (sic!) since she was
busy passing two classes in a term. (She was an extremely articulate
speaker in English.) One is not surprised that when she finally
finished her doctorate, she was only 19, a German record at a time
when women were not encouraged in higher learning. (She once remarked
that the bias still existed because she was not given a chair at the
University of Bonn.) The topic of her PhD dissertation was "Position
of Caliph and Qazi in Mameluke Egypt". She recalled that her father
was killed four days before the war came to an end, and while she
studied, she had to do six months of forced labour and work six days a
week in a factory. After the war, she went to West Germany,
interpreting and translating in Turkish for the Foreign Office and
working on her thesis for teaching. Marburg University took her in as
a professor of Arabic, Persian, Turkish, history of Islamic art and
religion after her graduation when she was only 23!

In 1949, she did another PhD in history of religions and went to
Sweden to pursue theological and oriental studies for two months. In
1952, she was able to travel in Turkey, keen to visit Konia where her
"murshid" Jalaluddin Rumi lay buried. She said that Konia was a sleepy
little town where the genius of Rumi was easily invoked. In 1953, she
was again at Ankara University lecturing on Islamic art and religion
in Turkish. The university offered her, a non-Muslim, the chair of
history of religion and she stayed there for five years, writing her
books in Turkish, including a Turkish version of Allama Iqbal's
"Javidnamah".

She had written hundreds of books and papers as far apart in subject
matter as the mystery of numbers in Arabic, Arabic Names and Persian
Sufi poet Qurat-ul-Ain Tahira whom she called the first Muslim
feminist. Her first book to be known in Pakistan was "Gabriel's Wing"
but it was published in Holland and was not properly distributed in
Pakistan. It is surprising that Pakistani publishers have not tried to
get the publishing rights of her great books like "Islam in the Indian
Subcontinent" printed 20 years ago, and others like "Deciphering the
Science of God" and "Mystery of Numbers" and "Gifford Lectures on
Islam". She translated hundreds of Islamic classics, as is manifest
from the awards she received.

Her work in German will probably take a long time in reaching the
international audience (for instance her beautifully produced work on
imagery in Persian poetry) but what she published in English is lying
with such obscure publishers in Europe and the United States that it
has no way of reaching the Pakistani market. She remained a recluse in
matters of publishing; her publishers seldom wrote to her because of
bad marketing. "I don't care that I haven't made money from my books;
I have enough to live on", she used to say thoughtfully. Her house in
Lennestrasse was full of rare manuscripts on Islam but she gradually
began to give them away to institutions, like Bonn University, as she
thought they would take care of them and make good use of them.

Annemarrie Schimmel was not into the politics of orientology as most
of us who are busy thinking about civilisational conflict are inclined
to think. While she considered Edward Said's critique of Western
orientalism justified, she believed it was misapplied to German and
Russian orientology. Her interest in Islam sprang from her great
reverence for its intellectual and spiritual genius. She was a
"practising" scholar who admired Massignon and was deeply involved in
the philosophical aspects of the religion of Islam. She believed that
Iqbal was the only Muslim genius who responded intellectually to
Goethe's "West-Eastern Divan". She was the only western intellectual
who responded to the true spirit of Islam. Her poems in German and
English were published in two volumes and proved that her interest was
not merely restricted to bloodless research. She was of no use to
those who study a religion only to find fault with it. She has passed
away but her work on and love for Islam will continue to illuminate
the true path. *

jawab aur shukria (for kufa upon euphrates)

it's writ in holy parchment
"men shall remain imperfect"
and angels will be angels
this hussain and this yazid
neither are pure nor perfect
a blend both of good and evil
but in life as in living
rules often the exceptions
all imperfect men once were
playful innocent angels
and friends it's them angels
that evoke sighs and sadness
in this weary soul mine

harsh mander -- gujrat riots

harsh was the civil swervant who resigned in the aftermath of gujrat riots:In search of Gandhi and Godse
HARSH MANDER

The communalisation process under way in India clearly has an impact on people of Indian origin around the world.



DURING a hectic schedule of speaking engagements that recently buffeted me across the length and breadth of the United States, I witnessed a diaspora in tumult, even more polarised, divided and wounded, than the middle classes in India today. With battle lines drawn everywhere, courageous, secular and progressive elements sometimes seemed under siege. Muslims of Indian origin were in the throes of anguish, often internalising their anger as an intensely personal sense of hurt and loss. I saw recurring signs, during my travels, of the heart-breaking near death of faith and hope.

The Gujarat carnage - the stunning brutality of the mass violence, the impunity of the state authorities, the depths of the social divide, the success of the economic boycott and above all the electoral endorsement of the massacre - has convinced many living in the prosperity of their adopted country, of the threat of the imminent death of Gandhi's India; and of the fact that minorities in the India of the future will have to come to terms with second-class citizenship. Their dark sense of despair and alienation is clouded further by the post-9/11 scenario in the U.S., with the swirling winds of public prejudice, militarisation, brutal and unethical wars and racial profiling of all Asian Muslims by the government.

Zahir Janmohammed, a 25-year-old graduate and third-generation expatriate from India, poignantly evoked this sense of bewildered loss: "I have been searching for Gandhi for several years. But after spending months in Gandhi's homeland, Gujarat, I fear he may be dead".

His grandparents migrated from Gujarat to East Africa in the 1920s. His father, expelled by Idi Amin's regime in Uganda in 1971, made a fresh start in California, where Zahir was born. He was a vegetarian and revered Gandhi. It was natural that he encouraged Zahir to return for a year to Gujarat to reclaim his legacy. Zahir volunteered to work with a non-governmental organisation (NGO) in a slum in Ahmedabad. Weeks after his arrival, the city and much of Gujarat was convulsed by the most brutal sectarian blood-letting after Partition, following the torching of a railway compartment in Godhra.

Zahir volunteered to work in the relief camps for the battered survivors of the pogrom, where he tried to share with them a little of their agony. But he encountered bigotry everywhere, even among friends. No one restrained the members of the NGO with which he worked, when they openly taunted minorities. The mother of his host family, a hospitable and affectionate Hindu, said to him: "Well you know beta, those Muslims go to the relief camps because they get free food there". His stomach heaved at the memories of the relief camps, with their pervading stench of human excreta, urine and crowded tents.

Returning months later to his home in California, a shaken Zahir found himself frozen when a shop-keeper asked him his name. A year afterwards, he joked bitterly when he saw me off at the airport, "Be careful, your air ticket has been booked on the Internet by a Muslim."

Zahir, a sensitive, reflective young man still struggling with the unhealed wounds of his trauma in Gujarat told me: "The Gujarat carnage has changed my life" - a refrain I heard echoed over and over again in many parts of the U.S. Among those whose lives were altered irrevocably were a large number of deeply idealistic young American Indian Muslim men and women, trying to come to terms with the situation in which their community finds itself. Many were trying to contribute by raising money for relief and rehabilitation, or lobbying with both the U.S. and Indian governments, or building networks with secular, progressive groups. I was touched by the way they dealt with their intense internalised sense of personal tribulation and privation, by constructively working with resolutely preserved resources of faith and hope, for reclaiming and defending pluralism and democracy both in India and the U.S.

In New York, Ubaid Shaik, a neurophysician with gentle manners and a passion for justice, was engaged for many years after he migrated to the U.S. in the African American civil rights movement. He was so wrenched by the Gujarat massacre that he launched the Indian Muslim Council to promote values of pluralism and tolerance with particular focus on the Indian diaspora in the U.S. He barely sleeps a few hours each night, so that he can find time for this work even after a punishing schedule in the hospital besides commuting for four hours daily, and taking care of a large and loved family. He has been joined in this enterprise by young professionals from cities across the U.S.

In Seattle, I was drawn to Javed, a software engineer who, after Gujarat, tirelessly collects money for relief as a volunteer for the Indian Muslim Relief Committee, which was formed in 1983 following the Nellie massacre by a compassioned and energetic biochemist Manzoor Ghauri. After Gujarat, an energetic elderly nuclear engineer in Chicago, Imtiaz Uddin, pulled himself out of retirement to establish a forum for the defence of secularism.

A number of committed secular academics in universities across North America, including Biju Mathew, Shalini Gera, Vinay Lal, Angana Chatterjee, Abha Singhal and many others came together in the wake of the Gujarat massacre, to put together the Stop Funding Hate Campaign, which painstakingly collected extremely damaging evidence on the funding of organisations belonging to the Sangh Parivar by Indian Americans.

In many universities I also met young members of secular development organisations such as Asha (founded by Sandeep Pandey) and the Association for India's Development. Many of them shared the grave disquiet about the assaults on pluralism in India, and wanted to contribute to efforts to defend secularism. But among some members, I also did find ideological confusion, reflected in their sympathy to parts of the Hindutva ideology or claims that many NGOs in India were 'neutral' to the turbulent communal divide.

For Jayashree and Ashok, a young couple in Seattle, a major segment of their daily life is devoted to volunteer work for Asha. Ashok spends many evenings and week-ends away from his work in a computer company, singing old Kishore Kumar songs in a band cobbled together to raise funds for development work in India. Stirred by accounts of the continuing distress of families in rural Gujarat, the couple has resolved to raise funds for them. Both dream of abandoning their well-paid positions and returning soon to India, to work for advancing the cause of education. In most cities, mainly first-generation young Indian Americans, many of them engineers, attempt to engage constructively with development organisations and social movements in India.

MEETING these two groups of young people of Indian origin, those belonging to the Muslim organisations and those with organisations like AID and Asha, I was struck by how similar many of them were - idealistic, impassioned and sincere. They were also of the same professional profile - software professionals, university students, social science researchers, and so on. Yet, they rarely met and worked together. The claims by AID and Asha that they never consciously kept youth from the minority communities out and that it just happened, mirrored arguments a few years ago about why most development groups 'just happened' to have mainly men.

Also, with both sets of groups of socially committed young Indians of American origin, I observed their remarkable insularity from social justice movements in the U.S. Except for Ubaid, the remarkable doctor who founded the Indian Muslim Council and a young physics teacher in Detroit, I rarely encountered any young people of Indian origin - first or second generation - who were involved in civil rights causes of African Americans, or those who volunteered to work for causes of deprivation and injustice in the U.S. like homelessness. For Ubaid, it was only the state complicity in the Gujarat bloodbath that persuaded him to pull back from his work in the cause of human rights in the U.S., and, instead involve himself in efforts to safeguard these rights in the deeply loved country of his birth.

Many Indian Americans involve themselves in political events in India with an immediacy and passion, to an extent that it is sometimes difficult to remember that one is not in India, but on the other side of the planet. During my visit, for instance, people followed and analysed every reported word of hate speeches by Praveen Togadia and the confused, unsteady responses to these by state authorities in India, with greater concern than in many bylanes of India itself. A multiplicity of deep emotional chords continue to bind millions of people of Indian origin who choose to live and work in the most powerful nation in the world, to the ancient land in which they and their parents were born.

Many Indian Americans spoke about how precious the pluralism of the Indian tradition and their identity as Indian Muslims were to them. Quaid Saifee, a young computer executive in Detroit, spoke of his days in an engineering college in Indore. "I was the only Muslim in my entire class. My friends always used to adjust their plans, when we went out to see films, or for dinner, so that I could offer namaz at the prescribed hours. When any vegetarian friends came home for food, my mother would wash out the entire kitchen in advance, so that their food could not be touched by meat. There was so much love between us. Where has all of this gone?"

The visit confirmed to me how closely the turbulent recent history of the dramatic rise of right-wing religious fundamentalism and the politics of hatred in India, is related to and nourished by the Indian diaspora in the U.S. An influential segment of this diaspora is ideologically committed to the politics of Hindutva, and shares its irrational malevolent hostility towards minorities, and uncompromising opposition to the vision of a pluralistic, democratic India with genuinely equal citizenship for people of all faiths, caste and gender.

Going beyond its enormous financial support, exposed by the Stop Funding Hate Campaign, is its ideological nourishment from the U.S., in the form of minority bashing literature, web sites and propaganda. The temples are one of the only spaces where the majority of Hindu Indian Americans meet on a regular basis, and these are reportedly increasingly controlled by Hindutva elements that actively promote their divisive ideology. Youth summer camps to assist second generation Indians to learn about their 'culture' are also used as powerful vehicles to propagate their intensely partisan vision of Indian culture, history, society and politics. There were many Indian Americans who believe that the U.S. is growing into the most influential fortress for the rallying of the forces of Hindutva after the Indian state of Gujarat.

There is also evidence of influential political alliances with powerful sections of the U.S. ruling political establishment. Especially in the aftermath of 9/11, and the wars against Afghanistan and Iraq, the U.S. government and major segments of the media and public opinion are actively engaged in the demonisation of the Islamic world. This has led to a growing opportunistic alliance between the domestic and global policies of the U.S. government and the domestic politics of the Indian government. Hardline Israeli elements and the government of Israel are also joining this axis.

The impact of all of this on the Indian diaspora is to create an uncompromising, unprecedented divide between people of Indian origin who are born into the Hindu and Muslim faiths. This spills into even second and third generation Indian Americans, and increasingly characterises social relations even in universities, with increasingly strident organisations of students owing open allegiance to Hindutva playing an active role in most U.S. universities.

People I met in many cities recognised, especially, the need to work with young people of Indian origin in the U.S., including those of second and third generation, in order to strengthen their commitment to pluralism, peace and justice. Spaces like places of worship need to be reclaimed from fundamentalist elements; young people need authentic humanistic teachings of their respective faiths. Secular avenues also need to be built to enable them to acquire an undistorted picture of what constitutes Indian culture, its syncretic, pluralist, tolerant character, but also its traditional injustices of caste and gender. They also need to be brought in touch with the social justice issues of the adopted country, which is now home for them and their children.

Everywhere, there was great enthusiasm for building an Aman Parivar, or family of peace, as an alternative to the Sangh Parivar. This is envisaged as a very loose and broad platform of people and organisations that are committed to join hands to fight the mounting poison of communal hatred and divide, and to defend to reclaim and to strengthen pluralism, secularism, justice, humanism and democracy. It would bring together anti-communal religious, cultural and professional organisations with a range of liberal, left, democratic and development organisations.

ON May 19, 2003, the day I returned to India, a call was given by Hindu Unity, the U.S.-based wing of the Bajrang Dal, which is the youth front of the Vishwa Hindu Parishad (VHP), and by the Hindu Mahasabha to celebrate Nathuram Godse's birth on May 19 "to send a message to the enemies of humanity that we will fight and even die to protect the basic principle of Hinduism". It further denigrated Gandhi by saying: "Gandhi was a downright pacifist, without guts and scruples. His constant preaching to his fellow Hindus, to be non-violent at all times, even in the face of aggression, paralysed the manhood of India, mentally and physically..'

The undisguised poison of this appeal, and the outrage of many groups of Indian Americans that followed, symbolises the struggle that convulses the Indian diaspora in the U.S. The struggle is to find its soul, whether in the message of love and tolerance of Mahatma Gandhi, or in the twisted legacy of his assassin Nathuram Godse.

In the dark storms of bigotry, of wars of collective vengeance that sweep our world today, does anyone in the U.S. or India have an answer to the question that young Zahir Janmohammed asks each of us, both as a challenge and a plea:

"Could Gandhi still be alive? Somewhere, in someone?"

rozaiba and drumz

Warning: long post

rozaiba

'Bus vaikhee Ja!'

jub kashti saabit o saalim thee saahil ki tamanna kis ko thee
as aisis shikaasta kashti main saahil ki tamanna kaun karay


DRUMZ:

"A good poem is a journey to self, a bad one merely leads us to appreciate the cognitive processes the poet went through. (internal vs eternal)"
a poem could be both…

a poem that strikes a chord with the reader is one where the personal experience/s of the poet resonate with those of the reader...in this cyber medium (or on the printed page) words reverberate thoughts and feelings...in themselves words are nothing but nuts and bolts...it is with their selection and arrangement that the poet attempts to convey the thoughts and feelings...and on those rare occasions when s/he succeeds in conveying it …when the readers feels the pulse and thoughts...then that poem works for both of them...

...otherwise the effort is wasted...however...\for every one poem that resonates...there are thousands that do not…agree with you there...

Saminasha:

What are you hoping to acheive in this piece?
How do you see the abstractness working in here?
What do you want to reader to take away from this?


some of it is covered in the preceding reply to drumz…and some in the following reply…...


if the imagery and words used in this poem did not convey my feelings then i take full responsibility...let me take a moment and try to redeem…

...hopefully...it is clear that this is a lament of shikwa...zamanay say, khuda say, halaat say...when all efforts come to naught...dead end...when one cannot do anything more to alleviate the sense of impending doom...

sailing anchorless
pier to pier
shoulder to shoulder
smile to smile

ships do have anchors...for sailing the waters they need sails or engine power: for steering the course rudder: and for stopping or parking other than at a pier they have to use anchors...as in life's journey...the daily grind does stop at dusk to begin again at dawn...

in smoke filled rooms
and open skies
navigating help
non existential

...mentioned zindagi ka safar...the daily grind...in this journey how do we take measure of progress?...what distance have we covered?...we need markers around us to navigate...to measure distance covered...or yet to be covered...think of yourself in a plane (open skies), or a submarine (smoke filled rooms has a social set up allegory in-built) or in your own home blindfolded...if you cannot see any markers or landmarks or milestones you will have a tough time walking, navigating, traveling and arriving at your chosen destination...hence the despair highlighted...and the inability to ascertain our exact position at a given time in this journey...

...what part of this the poet attributes to his sealed lips and his blocked hearing and to others sealed lips and blocked hearing is left at the discretion of the individual reader's perception and experience (this for you also dost-mittar)

yeh na thee humari jaahil bakri

tahmad, hamidm, SR:

Yeh Na Thee Humari Jaahil Bakri

bakri ho ya bakray ki maaN
bhook mitanay kay lyay
khai gee to beh'r haal

aur zik'r oos bakri ka:
qusoor srif yeh tha na
kay paRhi likhi na thee
aur bhooki bhee nikli woh
tou khaa gayee woh patta

aur such poucho tou bhai
kaash koi hum say bhee
gar pooch ta tOu kehtay
bhayee yeh namaz rozay
waghera bhee mazaidar hain
laikin yeh na thee humari...

wondering


sac:


of what hope do you hope for?
can there be light
when the doors to the ears
and windows to the eyes
paths to souls
are sealed by shouts
from pulpits and minarets
by visionless beards
with eyes blinded
by hermeneutic
hallucinations?

and

where some of us
--the people of the book
who can, do not read
understand nor follow
despite untold exhortations
leaving the field clear
for the flowing beards
and then we ( you and i)
have the temerity
to blame the maulvis
and wonder
if there is any hope

callousness


am


blinkering cop out...plain and simple...hogwash...excuses for not dressing in public when the wardrobe is (ostensibly) full...no justification!...time moves at the same pace here, there and there...words elicit respect...callousness does not:

...callousness is streakers running amok in church service
...callousness is filmi qawwali during an auschwitz memorial
...callousness is marsia singing on mehndi or wedding eve
...callousness is not reigining in the horses in chariot-race of ideas
...callousness is abuse, plain and simple
...callousness is not respect for words and ideas

...this is only intended for you since you will understand the reference...

attitudes - here and there

hamidm:

i forget who mentioned here that when their daughter is a certain age they would return back...khair...here is my take:

two/three years back...i had a informal seminar-interview session with the students of Islamic Studies Dept at KU...(that's another story)...and another one at an 'art' school in defence…students were 16-22 years of both sexes...the format in both places was similar...i would ask questions, they would identify themselves and answer my question...

at this art school...every question i asked the students the principal sahib would answer instead...and in one of his responses he drew a line....'us vs. them'...he opined that here in the west the students were immoral, used drugs...etc....at some point i pointedly asked him to shut up and let the students answer me questions...and in response to principal saheb's tirade i asked the students if they were aware of what goes on in the west...yes in a chorus they replied...

then after more prodding one student said...'Sir, everything that goes on there goes on here.'...the principal saheb's jaw dropped..."our parent's do not know most of it...let me give you an innocent example...if there is a jam session here...all of us would attend...but nobody would mention it is jam session or a dance session...we would just say there is a lecture at the school...'

recall what i wrote about elaichi in an earlier post?

sex, drugs, immorality is as much prevalent in today's kids there as here...with one stark difference...over here there are well publicized programs by the school boards and cities and municipalities and tv channels promoting drug awareness, drug abuse, unwanted pregnancies etc....over there... elaichi....

Parents and the Pill - zeh'r

zeh'r:

...yara the whole desi perspective on sex stinks...on sex? it stinks on just about everything;)...we know that...but do not admit it...storks still carry babies down...bhagwan ki kirpa say, Allah kay ehsaan say bachchay paida hojatay haiN!...sex education is a taboo subject...sometimes i think we are slow...and dichotomy starts right from the home...hiding behind faux-talk of morality and culture (and i am not even bringing religion here)...khandaan and upbringing....we bury our heads in the sand...and just in case some nut-case mulla gets uptight with this...let me add explicitly...am not talking about sex, pill or condom usage only...

...the younger generation for ever pushes the envelope...in another era they used to smoke and return home after freshening up with elaaichi (cardomom) or paan thinking their elders would not suspect that they have been smoking...it is a game...each generation knows what the other is upto...that they chose to turn their head and hide themselves away from the truth is their fault or mechanism to deal with it...take your pick

...replace elaaichi (cardomom) with pill or condom...

...and yet there are holy desis who make fun of the writer (zehra)...one even taunted her to be more explicit...another publicly proclaimed her celibacy...sad...am sad for their comprehension skills and for their pathetic life they lead...for the vicarious pleasure they seek....she has said what she wants to...it is they who take vicarious and perverse delight rather than seek or discuss the truth!

...certain ...no make it most segments of pakistani society are sick indeed...mullahs routinely abuse their young wards...nobody makes an issue of it in any concerted way...(instead they do not shy away from hurling qur'an ayahs and hadiths as if they were cluster bombs to annihilate the skeptics) no wonder those abused children abuse others when they grow up...

...men hold hands and walk the bazaar...married couples cannot...even within close families...couples have to sit apart...all in the name of some faux sense of propriety......in faux regression the desi would do victoria proud

...and before some mulla-wannabee accuses me of being an exhibitionist let me remind them that is not what i am writing about...i am discussing decent and forthright behaviour...by both the generations...and if it includes discussion about that aspect of life we call sex, so be it...

summing up...each generation pushes the envelope farther and farther...the older generation has the experience if not the direct knowledge of what the younger generation is upto...so kidding aside...time to get real...

for am

ps:

i know, i know
liberty is a statue...
looking out to sea
so we can do things
behind her back

gods of literature
have made a provision
small-time poets
when they hit the wall
or some hard surface
can take liberty
(once in a while
not repeatedly)
with a word here
a word there
but a major aspiring
writer is cautioned...
;)

kabhi kabhi ki

Subroto:

…my first and right instinct was to ignore you on the prodding at k word…don't get me wrong…i could have given a dizzying k ride to you…could have said:

kabhi kabhi
kal ho ya na ho aaj to hay!
kabhi khushi kabhi ghum
kabhi hum kabhi tum
kabhi humari kabhi tumhari - merzi
kabhi yahaaN kabhi wahaaN
kahaaN ka halwa kahaaN ki puri
kabhi idhar ki kabhi oodhar ki
kabhi yeh kabhi woh

jaali digrian

kyuN ja'ali deegriouN ki talash maiN
youN bhatak rahay haiN sinai maiN

jub aa'een ja'ali hay,
hukumat karnay walay
fauji ja'ali haiN
mullah log ja'aali haiN
oonki daRhiaN ja'ali haiN

jahan sub ja'ali haiN
wahan degree ki pedigree
dhondnay ka faida kya?

real blasphemy

Hamidm, Dost-mittar, mohar11, Ralph, arjun, Bina, Saima and others:

There are some basic thoughts that guide me. I have mentioned them here often.

First is : pehlay inssan, phir muslamaan: pehlay ta'aleem phir tafheem: pehlay Khuda phir Rasool

Second: be good. This jokingly I have refereed to as the founding of a new order... A religion with no holy book, no prophet/s, no rituals. The individual's conscience being the inbuilt criteria to inform and guide as to good and bad.

And being human, being frail and susceptible to cross currents I do fall off these loft ideals every now and then. But am lucky or resolved. I correct and climb back. And like the venerable Shaikh Saadi said, "I learn from everybody." I continue to learn not only from the wise but also from the simpletons. My words are there for the record. In the very next interact after Urstruly's post.

This article has touched up various issues regarding the intolerance of some Muslims, (remember I call them cuckoos and bigots and a minority), the ethics of freedom of speech and expression, blasphemy, response to acts of violence, the role of us…as Muslims, non-Muslims, as citizens of other countries, as denizens of a global village.

In my first response before commenting on Bina Shah's article I said unequivocally: am against loss of a single civilian life by another individual, organization or state…. in the most controversial scene, partially clothed women are portrayed as the victims of abuse with scars on their bodies, but verses from the Quran are also inked out in black on their bare skin.

And concluded with: …to me this is simply asking for it…

This must have touched off a raw chord in some friends. I also had the temerity to agree with Urstruly some. That I disagree with some was conveniently ignored.

Silence is golden. Perhaps I should have held my peace. But for how long? The current mess the silent majority of world Muslims find themselves in cannot bear anymore silence.

The Silent Majority of Muslims need to speak up. Only then would their voice countering the cacophony of zealots and bigots be heard. This is a long over due and long to be effective endeavour. Hence this attempt to clarify and explain to myself and to my friendswhere I come from. Make no mistake. This is as much an attempt for my sake as for theirs.

Back to that one aspect I discussed and why I felt Van Gogh was asking for it.

When our children come to a certain age we tell them to look left and right before crossing the street. And never to cross the street if the signal is red. We inculcate in them at that tender age a sense of awareness, sense of safety, and self preservation.

My thoughts on Mr van Gogh were in that spirit. As denizens of the global village we know the world we live in. We know for a fact that no city or country is outside the reach of bigots and zealots. By provoking them, and by ignoring warning and threats, and by not understanding the ramifications of the damage our actions can cause he was indeed asking for it.

In the earlier cases of Salman Rushdie, the full might of a state came to his rescue. Taslima Nasreen similarly is under protection. Those who recklessly disturb the hornet's nest and then fail to heed caution sooner or later pay for it.

We read papers. We watch the media. Are we that gullible?

I am offended by the depiction of Qura'ani Verses on naked female bodies. But belonging to the silent majority, being responsible and sane, I am opposed and averse to taking the law into my own hand. And I would not kill another human being. And there are millions like me here. But, I do know that zealots and bigots do not recognize this. They are prepared to play with their lives and harm those who offend their deeply held beliefs.

This is not a simplistic and foolhardy issue like us vs. them.

Borders, nationalism, religion is a concept alien to natural disasters. And to man made disasters. Religious zeal and bigotry is man made. If we do not speak up then we are seen as condoning it. If we speak up and not do anything to alleviate the problem is much worse.

For the Muslim mess I and we are partly to be blamed. Partly because the world has shrunk. As global citizens we cannot declare it is Muslim problem and wash our hands.

Dispatching high flying bombers and raining daisy cutters has not and would not fix the problem. It will only temporarily deflect. And it will recruit more zealots for the cuckoo pupeteers. Read the full transcript of the Osama bin Bush's latest video hot.

When I mentioned that apartheid-- of old as in South Africa or the current one in Occupied Territories is our problem, friends here disagreed. No it is your problem. I disagree. Injustice, poverty, lack of education in this world is our problem. We do not live on an island. We cannot seal off. Isolationism is not an option. Or ostrichism as Saima says.

Only when we do our bid as global denizens, regardless of our nationality or religion, to lessen injustice and poverty can we rid or lessen the number of cuckoos, zealots and bigots. And this is for the long haul. And like it or not we are all in it for the ride. Only then would be able to put the Quran between Russell and ibn Warraq and not feel a tinge of guilt.

This was and remains the sole point in my discussion here. Until we address Injustice, Poverty, Education, in the less fortunate world we will continue to suffer the consequences.

class rooms

... common strand that runs through these three articles on the main page is the inability of the occupying army to deal with the looming crisis in Pakistan...let's dispense with the white-wash...democracy and all that blah blah…and about how the power is transferred to the people...more blah blah...

...(came across these figures about four years ago from the then sec. education...a laeeq khan...am relying on memory and am searching for more current numbers)

...every year more than three million young Pakistanis are added to the school going age...between the stretched educational resources of the GoP (digression: the defense related expenses eat up between 48- 66+ % of the budget –depending on how you add up)...here is the low down:

number of new school age children............3,000,000
based on an average of 30 children
per class—number of additionalclass
rooms required.................................100,000
new class rooms provided by govt................10,000
new class rooms provided by madrasah.............6,000
new class rooms provided by pvt groups...........3,000

yearly class rooms shortfall....................81,000

...that is 2,430,000 plus children that are added every year to the numbers of uneducated...and this folly is compounded every year...millions of hopeless soul scurrying for petty existence and fodder for physical and mental slavery...is there any wonder the literacy rate is going down...(so much for Madrassahs and Schools...not to mention law and order....infra structure development...women issues, gender inequality, honor killing...heck, just about everything except nuclear aresenal and land grab by the faujis?

...am sure there are saner minds in the fauj that have figured this out have come to realize that the pie is shrinking and the occupying army's share cannot be increased beyond a certain point...remember...no Pakistan, no pakistan army...perhaps that is the driving force behind the fauji's push for a solution to the Kashmir crisis (Indian Troop Reduction in Kashmir: Merely Symbolic?)...so that the meager budgetary resources can be allocated to developmental fields...a bare minimum level of economic prosperity is introduced to help the pie expand…and with a bigger pie the percentage yield for them will become bigger too...

lonely cloud

rahul: moving! (inspired this)

lonely cloud

fight back, fight back air echoes
and deaf to them some move on
oblivious
blind
cloud-like

not all battles
are worth
taking up swords for
sunshine and eid in the air
young and eager smiles
anticipating and warming

nahin kaam mujhay aaj
fasoordagi say, ranjishOn say
shukranay ki takrar
hay her soo' aaj
aaj - hay j mustaqbil ka pehla din

time to come out a step at a time
to newer smiles on today's faces
a step on the road
to tomorrow's salaam, today

in defense of hamidm

Thought would never have to see this day...no... not referring to that mention of your well loved daughters as a chunnoo/munnoo...something else bothered me today...straight out of the left field... and a yaar suggested to come here and indulge in some senator or was he congressman? ...cathartism...so dutifully...oh I have so much respect and love for this yaar...hum such boltay haiN...here I am...and what do I find here...you alongwith "dot dot, merlot-lovers(for the record both you and jawahara ---my comments in parentheses), jehadis, fanatics, liberals, seculars, fundamentalists, and conservatives"... and phaja of wink-wink mandi... Bandu's third cousin from his father's seventh wife's step mother's side (oh that is another story) masquerading as Karachi's Bundoo...Allama Iqbal's loyal servant Imam Din's (?) adopted wife's son from the third marriage...sorry.. make that 'adopted' appear before the son...Jawaid's bootlegger...Zia's mujawar ..sure he must have a mujawar...I mean if there is Jabra Shareef there has to be a salaana Urs and those charas (tauba tauba) and bhang (do they merit one tauba or two?) sessions alongwith fine qawwalis -- like Fareed (mota and marhoom)and Maqbool (chota) Sabri's immortal rendition ( have it on tape -- will auction it to highest silent bidder) describing when the Prophet was born ----"Hoorain naachiN, chum chumma chum..." --- and we heard it and enjoyed this before we knew what mujrah was which was before we learned how to spell it which was before we saw one which was before Muzaffar Ali's version of Umrao Jaan Ada --- you know the one mis-labelled as Rekha's Umrao Jaan ---and incidentally would you care to know that they have discovered that MaaNg-l'aye-thay-chaar-din Zafar's grave in that forsaken city formerly known as Rangoon .... and now they lay those chadors and have salaana Urs at his old, permanet but recently discovered grave?...now how to tie this back to the mother of all sweeps -- heheh... am not referring to anyone here --- just how to tie this sweep back to your inclusion in that unholy alliance that includes all save one or perhaps if I am charitable those two gentle folks?...well I protest my one solitary vote .. raise this hand...O duniya walo!.... notice lay lo!.. I protest...haaN yeh zul'm hay!... Naa insaafi hay!...Yeh ghalat jhaRRoo hay...aur baaqi sub logouN kay saath ziyadti hay...agar hamid nay khuda ka naam liya tha... tou ilzaam srif hamid ki hud tuk hee mehdood rehna chahiyay...baqi duniya tou khuda ka ehteraam karti hay...oos kay rasoolouN say ish'q karti hay...aakhir may my lord oon baaqiyouN ka kya kusoor tha....baqiyoon ko (thumping on the desk) is ilzaam say barri kya jai mylord... aur is hamid ko aisi ibrat naak saza di jaa'ye keh rehti duniya oos ki mashkoor ho...jis kitab maiN baar baar likha hay paRRho, ghoure karo, amal karo oos ka yeh joor'm na-qaabil-e-qubool hay...and before you punish him let us hear from Begum Hamid also... she has the right to submit a statement as the most aggrieved party...how can anyone waltz with a fine single malt .... oh no he was accused of being a merlot lover ... that is even worse...and preach about striving to be an insaan first ...naoozobillah .... is say tou hum paidaishi musallman hee achchay haiN...:)

bila oonwaan

oos nay kuch kaha
is nay kuch suna
aur baat bigaR ga'ee

He has not changed / woh nahin badla


He has not changed


sadly mistaken are you
He is the same as always

perhaps even He
could not change Himself ---
but that is another debate

we can change the course of a river
a mosque here, a temple there
love for hatred, hatred for love

peek intently it is we
who have changed...!


woh nahin badla


m'ray hamdum, m'ray dost
ghalat feh'mee hay shadeed
woh tou woh-hee hay
badla kahaaN woh?

shayad khood ko bhee
woh bad'l na sakhay ---
woh a'lug behas hay

darya kay rookh ko
musjid o mandir ko
pyar ko, nafrat ko
badla ja sakhta hay

jhanko ghaure say
dilouN maiN
woh

triple divorce - teen talaq

...all this brouhaha is so very understandable...we muslims may have one book and on prophet (sorry Sattar saheb;)...but we do subscribe to several Allahs...each small group of us has their own Allah...this is the only explanation one can proffer...otherwise if Allah was one...then how in Jam-the camel driver's name would these various factions and off shoots would be killing each other and dispatching them to some hell in the name of the same Allah?...

khair...on talaaq!
(...all the following is from memory...don't have my books or notes here...so if any one you wants to assign me a choice spot in hell...hopefully they will have the courtesy to afford me some good defense lawyers first)

Islam is a deen....the approache to practice this deen is called a madhab (or mazhab in urdu: plural madhaib/mazhaib)...

in the days of Muhammed (saw) there was only one deen and one madhab...understandably...the various madhaibs...and splits came later...the sunnis with their hanafis, humbalis, shafii, malikis...and the shias with ithna asharis, ismailis, khojas, bohris...and then the minor offshoots...druzes, naziris and so on...each of these groups and sub groups practice Islam their own way...naturally!...:)

so back to utterances of three talaqs:

during the lifetime of Muhammed (saw)...the overwhelming occurrences of talaqs were 'delayed' talaq...in stages...the quickie divorce was tolerated but not kindly looked upon...

...this continued for about three years after his death...( am relying on memory again)...this continued through abu bakr's caliphate and went on unchanged during omar's first or second year...somewhere around that time hazrat omar seemed it fit to change the rules!...since then...the quickie divorce came into fashion over the delayed divorce...and is continuing to this day in the mostly sunni world...

...to be fair to omar...towards the end of his caliphate he broached this subject in one of his letters and wondered aloud if he had done the right thing and also speculated aloud about the misuses of the quickie divorce and expressed a desire or hope to revert things back to the older way...but he died shortly afterwards...

godhra, gujrat, buddha

godhra, gujrat

yesterday, accidentally
burned my hands
and thought
what were 'they' thinking
in fire's embrace?


godhra, gujrat

kul jo achanak
jal gaya hath m'ra
tou souchnay laga
janay kya guzri hogi oon per
aag ki aaghosh maiN


some buddha

they speak now
of resurrecting
that Bamian Buddha.

And 'they' speak here
wisely, foolishly
incessantly
over whose buddha *
is better




*buddha---old fellow

tribulations of the love song of J Alfred Prufrock.....

#5 by omar_r_quraishi on May 21, 2004 5:31am PT
this is pure unadulterated crap -- i suppose though to praise something like this would be considered quite fashionable however
[Reply to interact #5]

#7 by temporal on May 21, 2004 6:46am PT

omar:

coming from you (or any reader)this is acceptable: this is pure unadulterated crap...

--in this interactive medium anyone can express his/her personal opinion...

but this is not: -- i suppose though to praise something like this would be considered quite fashionable however...

--this is blatant and unwanted editorial intrusion;)

(i take back above if you understand the prelude to the love song of j alfred prufrock in its original format)

rgds,

t

ps: the word 'editorial' is being used figuratively - no personal aspersions


#18 by omar_r_quraishi on May 24, 2004 10:39am PT

haha temporal -- sorry havent heard that song -- shandana -- btw u havent responded to my emails -- so i ask u here -- have ya got the check or not we sent?


#19 by temporal on May 25, 2004 8:52am PT


omar:

...let us see if i can put this delicately to you...oh never mind!...instead have a good day sir

...t


#20 by omar_r_quraishi on May 26, 2004 1:08am PT

temporal ??? -- this isnt your ilog sir -- so u will have to be a little less abstruse if you want me to understand what your talking about

#21 by temporal on May 26, 2004 6:05am PTomar:

...t.s. eliot sir...t.s. eliot!

...buried in the i-logs i accidentally dug up where he got the 'song' in alfred j prufrock...(from a short story by rudyard kipling)...the poem is not a song...the prelude to it is in latin...

...i apologise for a bad joke gone awry...

rgds,

t#24 by omar_r_quraishi on May 28, 2004 1:26pm PT

sorry temporal sahib -- dont really get the time to do any outside reading these days --
[Reply to interact #24]

speaking slowly

Romair:

patience is a family forte
so i will say again
loudly for you to gain
am no critic
so what am i doing here?
expressing my views
selectively

sorry to have missed the other names
but you are knowlegdable
farsighted with acumen
in short a boy wonder, a genius
am proud
you know the price of everything
and once you know their value too
will be more proud of you

and this is not a poem
am speaking s l o w l y

****


(still talking s l o w l y)

sometimes less is more

despite many posts and name droppings
you still know the price
but know not the value

you do not have anything
to make me an offer or deal

but
this is what i will
voluntarily concede
I will refrain from commenting
on your creative submissions

with others
time and interest permitting
i will interact as before

***

The whole debate started out between me and temporal (who actually thought what I had written was good) . I challenged him on that. - romair

speaking s l o w l y
and c l e a r l y
the above hogwash
is best described
by the following;)

mis-understanding
mis-representing
mis-nomer
mis-stating
(the proof pudding
is in #1)


* * *

mindless
mis-mis-mis

foul abramis
canine anthemis
apollo's twin artemis
finns' cheremis
edible cucumis
leafy inermis
nile pyarimis
rural tamis
just themis

and all of above
hitting the vermis

;)


ps: disclaimer: when i started off writing the mis part it had a purpose...that soon got over taken by the simple pleasure of reverse alliteration...pls. forgive!

ralph russell on urdu

Late Ralph Russell wrote an long article --- Urdu in India since Independence. Some excerpts I find interesting and will reproduce here.

"There is a proposal that the teaching of Urdu should be taken on as one of the main tasks of the religious foundations, the madrassas and so on, which are primarily established for the imparting of Islamic learning. I do not think that there is any point in this at all. In the first place, why should the job be handed over to other people. The champions of Urdu are looking for someone else to do work which they ought to be doing themselves and which they are not doing. In the second place, there never has been the least evidence that these organisations are interested in the teaching of Urdu, or at any rate in teaching it to any very worthwhile level. These madrassas have functioned continuously both before independence and throughout the whole period since independence and not one of them has ever shown the least interest in teaching Urdu to the level which would introduce their students to Urdu literature. They are concerned with religious questions and only with religious questions. It is not in the least likely that they will undertake this task on anything like a large scale. As far as my experience goes there is no reason to assume that the attitude of the teachers in religious institutions has changed much since the time of Ashraf Ali Thanavi when, almost a hundred years ago now, he wrote Bahishti Zevar. He has a chapter in Part Ten in which he lists all the kinds of books which women should not read. But two things have to be said about that. Firstly that we want women to be able to read everything that men can read. Secondly, the disapproval of the kind of literature which Ashraf Ali Thanavi, censures obviously extends to the literature which men read. In Bahishti Zevar, he lists among other books that should not be read: "divan aur ghazalon ki kitaben" "divans and books of ghazals" – in other words, virtually the whole of Urdu poetry and certainly that part of Urdu poetry which is the most valuable; the Indar Sabha; the story of Badr i Munir, that is the story of the masnavi of Mir Hasan; Dastan i Amir Hamza, Gul i Bakavali and other books. To expect people who are dedicated to religious teaching to teach people to read some of these best works of Urdu literature seems to me quite unrealistic."

and

"Publications of Urdu works in the Devanagari script, of course, serve a wider audience than that which I have just described. They serve the audience of Hindi speakers who do not know Urdu but are interested in what Urdu literature has to offer. I think that Hindi speakers offer the next most favourable audience for Urdu literature after that of Urdu speakers themselves. True that there are people – some people – in the Hindi speaking community who are the most vociferous opponents of Urdu, but it would be a great mistake to think that all Hindi speakers share their attitude. There are among Hindi speakers substantial numbers of people who do not want to make Urdu their first language, but are nevertheless interested in getting access to what Urdu literature has to offer. This is proved by the number of publications of Urdu works issued by Hindi publishers in the Devanagari script. Quite numerous selections from popular Urdu poets are being published by Hindi publishers. I know that in her later years, according to what she herself told me, Ismat Chughtai could always find a publisher for her stories in Devanagari before any Urdu script version was published. And Muhammad Umar Memon of the University of Wisconsin, US, tells me that almost all of Manto's works are now available in Devanagari. My experience is that champions of Urdu are for the most part simply unaware that this is going on and even if they are aware they take an attitude towards it more or less of indifference – and they certainly should not."

and

"There is another, I think increasingly important, audience for Urdu literature presented in English in the second and third generation immigrants from Urdu speaking areas into the English speaking and the English knowing world and there are substantial numbers of such people both in North America and in Britain, and to a lesser extent in other European countries. In short, there is a much wider audience for books presenting Urdu literature in English than there was, say, 30 or 40 years ago. There was published in England, The Penguin Book of Modern Urdu Poetry, selected and translated by Mahmood Jamal (1986), and in India a Penguin book on Ghalib (Pavan K Varma, Ghalib: The Man, The Times, 1989) and numbers of translations of Faiz, including The Rebel's Silhouette: Selected Poems, translated by Agha Shahid Ali."

more at: Ralph Russell

karo kari

make no mistake
karo kari and honor killings
and chattel trading will continue
we are corrupt - to the core
morally bankrupt too
forget spine - we don't have vertebras
words are all we have
stripped of meaning
empty, fading, decaying - words
they meant something to someone - once
are murder weapons today
in bearded bigoted hands
and without spine
it is hard to stand up - or stand up to
we cannot yell - we whimper

curse me, hug me, cry with me
am a decaying not-yet-dead muslim

top ten dead end careers

OTHER TOP TEN DEAD END CAREERS

10: Smokin' hookah, wearing Fez, playing politics.
9: Counting beans (in Mexico or in a high-rise tower)
8: Making fluorescent glass bangles or iridescent Soorma.
7: Being filthy (as in filthy poor or filthy rich) in Desiland.
6: Teaching 'common sense' in the Madaaris.
5: Teaching 'tolerance' in Desi High Schools.
4: Disengaging earnest-hotheaded interactors.
3: Apprenticing as a trainee-Mahout.
2: Writing poems (specially the trans-creative kind)
(a tie)
1: Writing these Top Tens.

irshaad haqqani

From an Aug 20th column by irshad ahmed haqqani. Lamenting over the 8-10 million unwed, of age, women in pakistan, who cannot get married because their parents are too poor to afford them a 'suitable' dowry or reception he reproduced two letter written by four unmarried sisters. The first of the two letters is written by the fours sisters from sargodha in their blood. Will provide an approxiamte translation here.

_________________________________________________

Dear Babajaani Irshad Ahmed Haqqani Saheb:

Assalamoalikum!

Babajaani, we are four sisters and have no brother. Father died eight years ago. Our mother made tremendous sacrifices and worked very hard to provide for us sisters. As a result of that excessively hard work today she is afflicted with various diseases and is on her death bed.

Today, we sisters teach Qur'an and offer tuition to kids in our neighbourhood to barely earn sustenance.

If we leave our house for any reason, we continuously encounter hoodlums ready to play with our honour.

Babajani we have written this letter in our blood, please publish this in your column. Is their a Saviour who would get us married so we can live and our mother can die in honour?

Babajaani if you do not help us (by printing this) then these cruel street urchins would violate and rob us of our dignity and honour. And for justice we would have no recourse but the day of judgement.

Wassalam,

Your daughters (four names)

(mr. haqqani added a foot-note in a subsequent column requesting gentle folks not to contact him any further with offers of help. He had been innundated with offers and from amongst those he felt there was enough to help these girls)

avoiding the present: harking on the past

September 5, 2003

avoiding the present: harking on the past



we look in the mirror...(nothing wrong with it if it is for a purpose)...we look in the mirror but what do we see there…depends on what we are looking for you say...yes, will agree...but what irritates me is those long drawn battles fought to correct the present ills and imbalances... but seeking half baked, far fetched lessons from recent or past history...

...so the road in your block is un-repaired after the recent rains...ok...so it never was paved ever since you recall and is worse for the wear now...

...so the power is even more whimsical...and the khakhi honcho managing the electric supply is a nincompoop..(incidentally, do you know of one khaki who has made a success of a civilian post?...any job, any post, any era?)...

...so you know someone who knows someone who lives in that village/town where another girl/woman was gang raped and their uncle was one of the accused...and it cost him Rs.75,000 to buy his way out...as for the victim girl/woman?...who cares...

...so...:)....where am I going with this?...bet discuss any issue and sooner or later that issue under discussion is covered in a misty fog, set aside and the discussion turns to inane and irrelevant issues...yes the recent or past history’s turns, twists and injustices...

...so if historical wrongs were corrected according to this Qur'anic (mis)interpretation or that hadith the muslims would have been more...yeah, right...or...if jinnah had done this then...yeah, right...or if the gadar party in 1905 had not gathered in california and...yeah right, or if...

...if only we focus and discuss one issue...and apply all our energies towards resolving and alleviating that problem...if only...instead of harking on the past...

...forget jinnah, forget sunnis, deobandis, barelvis, ahl e hadees, hanafis, malikis, shafii, humbalis...forget shias, ismailis, athna ashaaris, bohris...

...forget broken promises for we are broken consciences

...the trouble (and the problem) lies with you and me...it is not in some obscure and misinterpreted wording of a long forgotten historical resolution in some park beneath a fort...it is not the chess game played by a dying man with resolute vision…(my way or the highway)...it is not in the hijacking of the state by the bureaucrats at first and then by the army...ah the army with a country!…when all is said and analyzed to death...pardon my swahili...the trouble (and the problem) lies with you and me...

why?

...because this is how we do it...

...bismillah ar rehman ar rahim…yes!...Begin in the name of the Most Beneficient, Most Merciful...and then...totally ignoring Him…His Message…totally ignoring all norms...insaniyaat we indulge in things a flying pig with conscience would not indulge in...laanat ullah on our sophistry...

...forgive and ignore the bitterness...focus on the truth if you find it here...

shikayat doctor say

"Juice pio
tylenol khao
aur aaram karo
theek ho jao gay."

m'gar doctor sahib,
aapki nab'z sha'naas nigha-ouN nay
tash'kheesh ghalat ki hay
yeh aur nazla hay!
shayad aapki hikmat
raftar e qal'b jaanchna
dauraan e khoon ta'tolna
din raat ki yeh kaavish
buhat do'or lay ga'ee hay
aapko humari fasurda duniya say

yeh tapish, yeh jalan
nazla bukhaar kahaN
is ka eelaaj
juice, tylenol, aaraam nahiN
yeh aapkay bus ki baat nahiN doctor
is ka eelaj
woh goom-gooshta mooskurahat hay
jis nay chori chori
neend in ankhyouN say
chura li hay!