Though I have always been found of Cartoons and the favorite till day are Tom & Jerry. Recently I had the Opportunity to see Curious George, it brought back my childhood memories. Curiosity is something I am born with, rather blessed with from my childhood. Watching Curious George, who is a Monkey and comes out of every situation harmless was a instant tour of my past. Curious George manages to teach kids a lesson but I was not as lucky as this Monkey. I remember the price I had paid for my curiosity and feel lucky that my curious nature has not pushed me over the edge, well....... it still exists and who knows when....
I was seven years of age, but It always felt like if I was 25, which I clinged on to for a while till my wife kept reminding me that I have passed 25 a while ago, but I still feel no older then 26.
It was a sunny bright day and I was on summer vacation with my grandparents, they had lots of cows and all kind of exotic animals. They all lived harmoniously in a large cattle house, it was nothing like a shed but a large bungalow subdivided into different zone which I enjoyed visiting every evening as a ritual to say good night to all of them.
I was found of a bull who was just two years old, I had seen him previous year when he was born but now he was little big bull, I thought he was my friend.
It was early morning and the grazers were getting ready to take the cattle out for Grazing.
I had been insisting to walk the Little Bull, every one advised me against it but I was curious. Why they do not want me to hold the rope of the Bull? They all had to give up in front of my unbending curiosity, so they roped the little bull and told me to hold on to the rope tight and walk along. I was excited, happy and was feeling a real cow boy, but my Imaginary world came crashing down as son as the little bull took off; I am not sure what happen to the little bull but he started running, the rope was in my hand but a large part of it was still on ground around me. I had all the plans to use my muscle power to stop the bull but before I could use my hands and shoulder power to pull the rope I saw my legs going forward and up in he air, the rope was entangled around my legs, now it was scene from a classic comedy, little bull was running and I was not running after, but was being dragged right behind, this little bull went through the whole village robbing me of my dignity and curiosity. Finally I got out of the entanglement but not before loosing back of my shirt along with some skin and the back of my pants was completely missing.
To my surprise whole village was behind be in solidarity, they were really concerned but could not stop laughing, I want to laugh too but I was in quite a bit of pain form all the bums and pebbles on my way. I was too proud to admit that I was hurting, so I picked myself to a big laughter, I tried to check my wallet in the back pocket, there was no pocket... hmmmm I swear I had pants on but now just the front... so some one handed me a Shawl (A large piece of cloth) to rap around. After hearing the exciting adventure one of my uncle who came running behind carried me and took me to the doctor and I was instructed not to sit properly for at least a month, so I had the chance to see the world from a different angle/ perspective.
Now when I am a father, It gives extra precaution alarming bells when my little one tries to pull a Curious George one me!
May be curious George would remind me some others similar incidents in near future and I can write them down In case my curiosity knocks me over the edge in future then my son would enjoy reading some of it.
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Monday, December 27, 2010
A Tale of Two Nations
Not sure why am I missing my Grand mother, May be the rainy day forces me to think of things which often a bright sunny day takes away from you!!
My Grandmother was kind and wonderful women! she has seen tough days in her life, especially when Pakistan was carved out of India, many people know it as a partition of India Pakistan which begin after the British Empire was some what forced to leave India. People were Happy!!! after all it was freedom after many Centuries (Little they knew that they will become slaves to politicians). My Grandmother who lived in a village was very happy to know that finally freedom was on their way, She was a young women with three children eldest being 6 years and youngest a year Old, mood was jubilant every where. Joy came with a limited life as the Gossip was that Muslims were demanding a separate Nation of their own.
Kashmir being the center of Civilization where people from different religions lived for centuries without much religious and cultural differences, in fact their culture begin and ended with Kashmiriat which had no room for violence. It was all going to end, as the religion has taken over the cultural heritage of Kashmir and Muslims (not all) were blood thirsty for any one who was not a Muslim so the saga of Murders, rape, Arson begin with a large contingent of Kabali (Tribals from West Pakistan) assisted by the newly formed government of Pakistan, advanced to capture the Valley of Kashmir. They had clear instruction to invade it any cost and the cost for this was the lives of Innocent women, children and helpless parents.
My Grandfather was in India Army and was posted in Srinagar which is little over 100 miles away from the villagee, there was no connectivity by road, My Grandfathers Brother packed all of his family and loaded them on the horses and left for Srinagar, My Grandmother had gone to fields as usual and by the time she got back half of the village had left for the safer destinations, She was disoriented and did not knew what to do as all the males of the immediately family were gone with all the valuables, she was left with 2 children, a Year old and a Three year old. Few villagers who were still there with a hope that everything was going to be alright but soon they discovered that large groups of Sikhs (sikhnet.com) were coming down the Hills and moving towards Srinagar, They were warning everyone to pack and move as the Tribals have started killing all the Sikhs on their way and they were the lucky ones who could save their lives, they shared the sob stories of their survival as Tribal were not only looting their properties and wealth but also raped young and old alike, some Sikhs fought for their pride but were done to death while the rest were sent on horse backs to inform the Sikhs on the way to head to safer places.
After listening this almost all the villagers decided to Pack and head towards Srinagar including my Grand mother. She was carrying two children and tracking hills to save her two little ones. Being a women and weak she was not able to keep up with group so every group kept passing her. She remembers and mentioned that those were said the terrible days, " People wanted to help you but they were helpless as every one was trying hard to save their loved ones" she mentioned that a group of Sikhs who came face to face with Tribal on a hillock fought them furiously but they were too few and just had few swords against the guns, so they were all chopped to pieces and the women and girls were raped and killed, My grandmother was fortunate to slide of a large hill to save herself and two kids. She was lost had little sense of direction, was hungry, kids were thirsty, she kept walking following the stars and moon. She mentioned that her 3 year old was very wise and would walk a little but walking miles and miles was a daunting job for those little legs, so my grandmother had to carry both of them, she walked she ran without rest whole evening and night.
She finally found a group of people next to the bank of a river resting from the all day and night walk, she was relived she went towards the river on reaching the bank she found it to be steep so she told her 3 year old to hide behind the bush and not move till she gets back with the water. She went down to quench her thirst but her heart to stopped to the familiar cries, it was group of Kublai Muslims along with locals who attacked the tired and resting group, all were killed except few who were left dead but woke up with hand or limbs, She was scared for her 3 year old who was hiding right above the clif, she knew he was very obedient and she will find him right behind the Bush after all the Mehim was over.
She gathered her courage to come out of the river, she saw bodies of men and women chopped into Pieces some were still alive without arms and legs while the rest were headless. she started looking for her son behind the bushes but could not find him anywhere, she stayed whole night looking for him in the same area. She searched all the dead bodies to see if the three year old was killed by the hate mongers, In the process she found a five year old and a three year old sobbing girls who were sitting right next to the dead bodies of their parents.
My Grandmother was tired of looking for her son and finally decided to head on towards Srinagar to save 1 year old son and two girls who were left behind. She kept tracking despite the fact she was hungry thirsty and carrying almost three kids and all alone. On her Journey towards safety and peace she saw an old Muslim man, it was early in the morning and she started crying knowing that this would be the end of all of them, she had almost surrendered but to her surprise the Muslim man took her to a vegetable field and told her to hide there for the day time or she along with kids might get killed. He was helpless to provide her any food but told her she can eat any amount of vegetables and fruits from the field. He was sympathetic and regretted what people were doing on the name of religion. My grandmother along with three kids hid themselves inside the hay, they could see groups of looters moving towards Srinagar, it was understood they were going to take over Kashmir from the Princely state of Jammu and Kashmir. They were all hungry but survived on green vegetables and water, whenever 1 year old was crying she would close his mouth. They made it through the day and started their journey to the safe city or Srinagar. She tracked whole night all by herself along with the kids and made it to Srinagar.
My Grandfather was waiting and he had almost lost the hope of her survival as almost every one else has reached Srinagar and no one had seen my Grandmother on their way. Millions of people were killed so it was obvious to loose hope.
She barely made it to Srinagar where Indian Army was stationed to receive all the refugees, seeing them she felt safer and collapsed, My grandfather was there and he took her to relatives home in Srinagar. My Grandfather never asked her about the Three year old but when my Mom was born they named her after the three year old.
I remember she always had his name on her tongue, even she would call me by his name, she had to correct herself almost everyday, she never forgot about her son though many decades have passed. whenever she started sharing that story she would cry after every 10 minutes, she was never able to tell the whole story but it came in bits and pieces. I grew up with those memories but I never saw hate in her heart for any Muslim.
Once I asked her Granny How come you are so kind to all these workers (who were all Muslims) she replied I wonder if Kulla (her son) is still alive and converted to Islam by People who saved him?
She lived a happy life of 85 years with a nail in middle of her heart which was the Gift of India and Pakistan to Millions of People who lost their loved ones in the hateful air of Partition.
She would always say if her son is alive he be 60 years old he would have his own kids, I wish I can see him just once and tears roll down her eyes. She made sure to celebrate each of his birthday by Distributing sweets in the temple. She never had desire to go back to the area where she lost her beloved son but she always went there with a hope that may be he will be still there even when she was 80, almost 55 years after the partition.
This is just a lonely story of my grandmother there are hundreds and millions of such untold stories which were never told. I hope all those who could not live together in this world because of the religious differences can live in the other world with peace and Harmony.
My Grandmother was kind and wonderful women! she has seen tough days in her life, especially when Pakistan was carved out of India, many people know it as a partition of India Pakistan which begin after the British Empire was some what forced to leave India. People were Happy!!! after all it was freedom after many Centuries (Little they knew that they will become slaves to politicians). My Grandmother who lived in a village was very happy to know that finally freedom was on their way, She was a young women with three children eldest being 6 years and youngest a year Old, mood was jubilant every where. Joy came with a limited life as the Gossip was that Muslims were demanding a separate Nation of their own.
Kashmir being the center of Civilization where people from different religions lived for centuries without much religious and cultural differences, in fact their culture begin and ended with Kashmiriat which had no room for violence. It was all going to end, as the religion has taken over the cultural heritage of Kashmir and Muslims (not all) were blood thirsty for any one who was not a Muslim so the saga of Murders, rape, Arson begin with a large contingent of Kabali (Tribals from West Pakistan) assisted by the newly formed government of Pakistan, advanced to capture the Valley of Kashmir. They had clear instruction to invade it any cost and the cost for this was the lives of Innocent women, children and helpless parents.
My Grandfather was in India Army and was posted in Srinagar which is little over 100 miles away from the villagee, there was no connectivity by road, My Grandfathers Brother packed all of his family and loaded them on the horses and left for Srinagar, My Grandmother had gone to fields as usual and by the time she got back half of the village had left for the safer destinations, She was disoriented and did not knew what to do as all the males of the immediately family were gone with all the valuables, she was left with 2 children, a Year old and a Three year old. Few villagers who were still there with a hope that everything was going to be alright but soon they discovered that large groups of Sikhs (sikhnet.com) were coming down the Hills and moving towards Srinagar, They were warning everyone to pack and move as the Tribals have started killing all the Sikhs on their way and they were the lucky ones who could save their lives, they shared the sob stories of their survival as Tribal were not only looting their properties and wealth but also raped young and old alike, some Sikhs fought for their pride but were done to death while the rest were sent on horse backs to inform the Sikhs on the way to head to safer places.
After listening this almost all the villagers decided to Pack and head towards Srinagar including my Grand mother. She was carrying two children and tracking hills to save her two little ones. Being a women and weak she was not able to keep up with group so every group kept passing her. She remembers and mentioned that those were said the terrible days, " People wanted to help you but they were helpless as every one was trying hard to save their loved ones" she mentioned that a group of Sikhs who came face to face with Tribal on a hillock fought them furiously but they were too few and just had few swords against the guns, so they were all chopped to pieces and the women and girls were raped and killed, My grandmother was fortunate to slide of a large hill to save herself and two kids. She was lost had little sense of direction, was hungry, kids were thirsty, she kept walking following the stars and moon. She mentioned that her 3 year old was very wise and would walk a little but walking miles and miles was a daunting job for those little legs, so my grandmother had to carry both of them, she walked she ran without rest whole evening and night.
She finally found a group of people next to the bank of a river resting from the all day and night walk, she was relived she went towards the river on reaching the bank she found it to be steep so she told her 3 year old to hide behind the bush and not move till she gets back with the water. She went down to quench her thirst but her heart to stopped to the familiar cries, it was group of Kublai Muslims along with locals who attacked the tired and resting group, all were killed except few who were left dead but woke up with hand or limbs, She was scared for her 3 year old who was hiding right above the clif, she knew he was very obedient and she will find him right behind the Bush after all the Mehim was over.
She gathered her courage to come out of the river, she saw bodies of men and women chopped into Pieces some were still alive without arms and legs while the rest were headless. she started looking for her son behind the bushes but could not find him anywhere, she stayed whole night looking for him in the same area. She searched all the dead bodies to see if the three year old was killed by the hate mongers, In the process she found a five year old and a three year old sobbing girls who were sitting right next to the dead bodies of their parents.
My Grandmother was tired of looking for her son and finally decided to head on towards Srinagar to save 1 year old son and two girls who were left behind. She kept tracking despite the fact she was hungry thirsty and carrying almost three kids and all alone. On her Journey towards safety and peace she saw an old Muslim man, it was early in the morning and she started crying knowing that this would be the end of all of them, she had almost surrendered but to her surprise the Muslim man took her to a vegetable field and told her to hide there for the day time or she along with kids might get killed. He was helpless to provide her any food but told her she can eat any amount of vegetables and fruits from the field. He was sympathetic and regretted what people were doing on the name of religion. My grandmother along with three kids hid themselves inside the hay, they could see groups of looters moving towards Srinagar, it was understood they were going to take over Kashmir from the Princely state of Jammu and Kashmir. They were all hungry but survived on green vegetables and water, whenever 1 year old was crying she would close his mouth. They made it through the day and started their journey to the safe city or Srinagar. She tracked whole night all by herself along with the kids and made it to Srinagar.
My Grandfather was waiting and he had almost lost the hope of her survival as almost every one else has reached Srinagar and no one had seen my Grandmother on their way. Millions of people were killed so it was obvious to loose hope.
She barely made it to Srinagar where Indian Army was stationed to receive all the refugees, seeing them she felt safer and collapsed, My grandfather was there and he took her to relatives home in Srinagar. My Grandfather never asked her about the Three year old but when my Mom was born they named her after the three year old.
I remember she always had his name on her tongue, even she would call me by his name, she had to correct herself almost everyday, she never forgot about her son though many decades have passed. whenever she started sharing that story she would cry after every 10 minutes, she was never able to tell the whole story but it came in bits and pieces. I grew up with those memories but I never saw hate in her heart for any Muslim.
Once I asked her Granny How come you are so kind to all these workers (who were all Muslims) she replied I wonder if Kulla (her son) is still alive and converted to Islam by People who saved him?
She lived a happy life of 85 years with a nail in middle of her heart which was the Gift of India and Pakistan to Millions of People who lost their loved ones in the hateful air of Partition.
She would always say if her son is alive he be 60 years old he would have his own kids, I wish I can see him just once and tears roll down her eyes. She made sure to celebrate each of his birthday by Distributing sweets in the temple. She never had desire to go back to the area where she lost her beloved son but she always went there with a hope that may be he will be still there even when she was 80, almost 55 years after the partition.
This is just a lonely story of my grandmother there are hundreds and millions of such untold stories which were never told. I hope all those who could not live together in this world because of the religious differences can live in the other world with peace and Harmony.
Monday, December 13, 2010
Down the Memory Lane
Once the most respected and beloved singer of Urdu Gazal Mehdi Hassan Khan who was born in India and became part of Pakistan after the partition on 1947 but he was always a beloved singer in both countries, He not only contributed to the advancement of Urdu language but also infused soul into the poetry of legendry and ordinary alike. I have seen him when you wish if you could just sit in front of him and listen to his soul jolting poems, but it was not that easy... thanks to the advancement of Media, we were always able to see him perform and of course his albums were in plenty. He struggled hard from his early age for the recognition. I wonder if he was not found we would have lost a legend in the dark allies of Karachi but thanks to Radio Pakistan who gave him a chance to sing and that lead to where poem lovers not only from India Pakistan but the likes of me who live on the remote Islands treasure his music.
My mentor and Teacher Prof. Jagan Nath Azad who was a authority on Urdu poems had mentioned that we write poems but Mehdi provides it soul to soar the heights of unimagined. Jagan Nath Azad who wrote the National Anthem of Pakistan was born in India but now Pakistan had to move to India because of the communal divide but was very much part of the Pakistani existence and culture, He lived in India but his heart was always in Pakistan.
Today when I heard of Mehdi Hassan Khan losing his memory it forces me to think even legends like Jagan Nath Azad and Mehdi Hassan has very limited time in this world, I have seen him when he was in his 40’s though I was kid but I still remember he had a full head of hair and then slowly with each season it all went downhill and the latest is that he can’t even recognize who Mehdi Hassan is or has sang that beautiful gazal but he sure does enjoy the soulful music of his own. He might not be around for a while but his contribution to Urdu and Urdu lovers will stay as long as our memories.
जीकर आया है फिर ज़माने मैं
सूचून लेख डे न फसाने मैं
याद आता नहीं के मैं क्या हूँ
बस के बजती शमा हूँ इस फसाने की
My mentor and Teacher Prof. Jagan Nath Azad who was a authority on Urdu poems had mentioned that we write poems but Mehdi provides it soul to soar the heights of unimagined. Jagan Nath Azad who wrote the National Anthem of Pakistan was born in India but now Pakistan had to move to India because of the communal divide but was very much part of the Pakistani existence and culture, He lived in India but his heart was always in Pakistan.
Today when I heard of Mehdi Hassan Khan losing his memory it forces me to think even legends like Jagan Nath Azad and Mehdi Hassan has very limited time in this world, I have seen him when he was in his 40’s though I was kid but I still remember he had a full head of hair and then slowly with each season it all went downhill and the latest is that he can’t even recognize who Mehdi Hassan is or has sang that beautiful gazal but he sure does enjoy the soulful music of his own. He might not be around for a while but his contribution to Urdu and Urdu lovers will stay as long as our memories.
जीकर आया है फिर ज़माने मैं
सूचून लेख डे न फसाने मैं
याद आता नहीं के मैं क्या हूँ
बस के बजती शमा हूँ इस फसाने की
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Safarnama (A journey...............to nowhere)
I had the chance to witness a beautiful wedding on the beautiful Islands of Hawaii, a Muslim girl from Pakistan marrying a Hawaiian native, though they may have many differences but one thing common was the love! the essence of the universe and the creation, though I was enjoying every moment of the wedding but I could not help to think about those little little who were barely able to walk when I left Kashmir and now they guided to the path of revolt and destruction by the elders of the community. Kasmiri's were always hospitable people but for some reason they were divided on the name of religion, it was very rare to see a cross cultural cross religious marriage in Kashmir, this would not be an acceptable practice no matter how much two individuals were in love with each other, in other words one has to be careful who he are she can fall in love with. I remember a Sikh Gentlemen who was in love with a beautiful Kashmiri girl and the family was moderate and had no objection to the marriage but the only condition they had was that he had to convert to Islam, but when boy refused to to that, he was told that at least he has to pretend in front of the relatives so they were not thrown out of the society or Kashmir, guy agreed to the arrangement after all he wanted to marry her, so they got married in a private ceremony outside of Kashmir and the rummer was that he converted to Islam and they are happily married, now the problem was relatives wanted to see the new converted groom who still had his turban and unshorn hair, cant be Muslim at least one has to look like a Muslim to pretend being a Muslim but being a Sikh you cant pretend to be a Muslim unless you live in Iran (they somewhat look like Sikhs)! Well girl was able to pursued the husband to cut his hair for her sake, so the hair went off but he still had a turban as he did not wanted his family to be excommunicated by the Sikh society he was pretty much out of the fripane and into the fire, but they had strong love for each other so he will leave home very quietly wearing a turban and sneak inside the home when none of the relatives were around, most of the time they would call each other to make sure no new relative (problem) is at home, they were able to run this show for a month and one day Dr. Singh is returning home but as soon he reaches home Ms. Khan is running around like a Dora fish making sure no one inside sees him with turban on, so finally Mr. Singh shows up and expects Ms. Khan to Open the door, as soon as the door opens Mr. Singh turban goes flying into neighbors yard, He is surprised! wife is no angry then why this? she whispers we have relatives inside, now he gets the picture, so he walks inside the home and greets every one and seats down every one has a question for him and why your skin is two tan on the forehead? Da.... he wears turban but they don't know that so made and excuse and started talking about politics and how beautiful Kashmir is etc stc. but again bell rings and neighbor walks in without invitation with a turban.." I think your turban fell down in our Yard"..... I still imagine what it would be like to be in that situation! but they are happily married and live south India, Dr. Singh wears his turban and Ms. Khan is still Ms. Khan never changed her name or religion so people can live together love each other and religion should be a medium to unite not divide, but any way I was happy to see a couple who could live happy ever after despite being two different backgrounds, amazing part of the wedding was that the God Mother of the Muslim girl was a Jewish women, Imagine what people would think of it in Kashmir? This wedding was the perfect example of that we are created equal human beings but divided by the religion or society. I could not notice to see the tears in the eyes of God Mother who despite had no blood or religious relations still loved her like a daughter.
It reminds me of a beautiful Poem:
It reminds me of a beautiful Poem:
Thursday, March 18, 2010
10 Million worth Garland....
Interesting news in the News Papers a Chief Minister was garlanded with rupees 1000 bills and the Garland was worth more than 10 Million Rupees? I looked it up again thinking may be someone goofed up while publishing this news, but no it was real news with Pictures of the massive garland. One would wonder why a Chief Minister of a state would accept such a huge amount of money, isn’t that corruption? but trust me politicians in India are one step ahead of law when it comes to legalize there corrupt actions that is why none of them has been prosecuted since independence, I am not joking, If someone was jailed for few days but they ultimately land up in a five star hospital due to fake heart attacks and once they are bailed out they are healthy and hearty.
Interesting answer to this mega garland of corruption was that it was a gift to an untouchable poor chief Minister of Uttar Pradesh; by the way she is Multi millionaire and the highest tax payer politician in India. She claims people loves her so much that they send her letters full of money and she accepts it and pays tax on it. Isn’t this a very creative way to become rich? Some politicians became millionaires in India by raising and selling milk of one buffalo while others had chicks which laid golden eggs, the corruption is right in front of your eyes, but sometimes I wonder if Indians have lost the will to revolt. Or it is the effect of standing in lines from hospital to offices, nothing comes cheap in India, anyone who has any authority from a clerk to a lawmaker will make you stand in these lines till you pay them or lose will to live. It might have its roots in the history, India being a British colony was ruled with an iron fist for many decades and before that it was under the occupation of Moguls, people pretty much took it as their destiny. It was the Influence of Europe that Gandhi and Nehru can feel and smell the beauty of freedom and decided to revolt against British Empire and forced them to leave India. India attained its freedom from England to become slaves to Politicians, some of you must wonder if British rule was better than the present corruption infested political system of the country.
Chief Minister Claims that it is the people of the state who send her all this money, mind me these are the same people who can't afford to feed their children, they collect wild grass to cook and survive and many thousands of them due to hunger and rest are mal nourished. Do you really want me to believe this? I am sure they hate you as much as I hate and corrupt politician or official, I am sure there must be hand full of butt kissers who arrange all this show for you because they want the piece of the corruption pie. If you were concerned about the poor and untouchables, I am sure you can live of a salary you get from the government and give rest of the corruption money to the needy and hungry of your state.
What happen to billion people in India? Why is everyone a mute spectator to all this mismanagement, don’t you feel suffocated? Are you waiting for a Manifestation to come and guide politicians? Trust me that is not going to happen, it is you who have to wake up and take control of your nation and preserve it for the generations to come.
Interesting answer to this mega garland of corruption was that it was a gift to an untouchable poor chief Minister of Uttar Pradesh; by the way she is Multi millionaire and the highest tax payer politician in India. She claims people loves her so much that they send her letters full of money and she accepts it and pays tax on it. Isn’t this a very creative way to become rich? Some politicians became millionaires in India by raising and selling milk of one buffalo while others had chicks which laid golden eggs, the corruption is right in front of your eyes, but sometimes I wonder if Indians have lost the will to revolt. Or it is the effect of standing in lines from hospital to offices, nothing comes cheap in India, anyone who has any authority from a clerk to a lawmaker will make you stand in these lines till you pay them or lose will to live. It might have its roots in the history, India being a British colony was ruled with an iron fist for many decades and before that it was under the occupation of Moguls, people pretty much took it as their destiny. It was the Influence of Europe that Gandhi and Nehru can feel and smell the beauty of freedom and decided to revolt against British Empire and forced them to leave India. India attained its freedom from England to become slaves to Politicians, some of you must wonder if British rule was better than the present corruption infested political system of the country.
Chief Minister Claims that it is the people of the state who send her all this money, mind me these are the same people who can't afford to feed their children, they collect wild grass to cook and survive and many thousands of them due to hunger and rest are mal nourished. Do you really want me to believe this? I am sure they hate you as much as I hate and corrupt politician or official, I am sure there must be hand full of butt kissers who arrange all this show for you because they want the piece of the corruption pie. If you were concerned about the poor and untouchables, I am sure you can live of a salary you get from the government and give rest of the corruption money to the needy and hungry of your state.
What happen to billion people in India? Why is everyone a mute spectator to all this mismanagement, don’t you feel suffocated? Are you waiting for a Manifestation to come and guide politicians? Trust me that is not going to happen, it is you who have to wake up and take control of your nation and preserve it for the generations to come.
Friday, February 5, 2010
Wish You a Long.................... Life
उमरें दराज़ हों येः दोवा दे गया कोई!
बुजती सी अतिशूँ को हवा दे गया कोई !!
इक मुधातूं से यार हम खाना बदूश हैं!
के मारी करीब वाली चेरह गह जला गया कोई !!
छु के जिसे मैं पा सकूं वोह ख्वाब तुम नहीं !
जब बी हुवे हो पास मारे के नन्द से जगा गया कोई !!
मारे वजू से उस का मक़ाम था बहुत बड़ा!
फिर बी मिला के हाथ इक रिश्ता बना गया!!
मुज को सलाम देने वह आया था दूर से !
आज फिर से मेरी रूह पे अहसान कर गया कोई !!
मिला नहीं कोई बी मुसफेर्रों की भीड़ मैं!
शायद मुजी को दाख के रस्ता बदल गया कोई !!
Mirza Galib a very famous Urdu Poet who lived in obscurity till his death is known for his great contribution to the Urdu Poetry and language. Now governments and non profit organizations have instituted awards and studies in his honor, but during his life time when his wife asked for what would do you have for me for my Birthday? He looked up in the sky and said I give you a dua for a long life... That was the last time she asked him for anything, Next time when Mirza Galab inquired how come you have not asked for any gift this time? She replied who wishes to live longer then you....
बुजती सी अतिशूँ को हवा दे गया कोई !!
इक मुधातूं से यार हम खाना बदूश हैं!
के मारी करीब वाली चेरह गह जला गया कोई !!
छु के जिसे मैं पा सकूं वोह ख्वाब तुम नहीं !
जब बी हुवे हो पास मारे के नन्द से जगा गया कोई !!
मारे वजू से उस का मक़ाम था बहुत बड़ा!
फिर बी मिला के हाथ इक रिश्ता बना गया!!
मुज को सलाम देने वह आया था दूर से !
आज फिर से मेरी रूह पे अहसान कर गया कोई !!
मिला नहीं कोई बी मुसफेर्रों की भीड़ मैं!
शायद मुजी को दाख के रस्ता बदल गया कोई !!
Mirza Galib a very famous Urdu Poet who lived in obscurity till his death is known for his great contribution to the Urdu Poetry and language. Now governments and non profit organizations have instituted awards and studies in his honor, but during his life time when his wife asked for what would do you have for me for my Birthday? He looked up in the sky and said I give you a dua for a long life... That was the last time she asked him for anything, Next time when Mirza Galab inquired how come you have not asked for any gift this time? She replied who wishes to live longer then you....
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