Life is one tough teacher that brings you every lesson, it wants you to learn. In this process sand just keep shifting, and later all you had left is an imprint. Now reliving those moments across the sand of times, it can be treat or a living hell. Right now I can’t pick up the end of my feeling; everything around me is just blurry, motions are abrupt and jerky, fear in the air is so thick and death; its collecting the souls around me.
I felt like I might throw up, for the van I was travelling in rocked, so did the ground. I closed my eyes and try to avoid looking outside. The tremors had moved the plates under the surface, shaken the mountains, caused sliding of heavy rocks at a few corners of the Chattar Plane road, leading to District Battagram. The road was damaged but still it was good for us to keep going. We may have had a chance to reach there. I opened my eyes and risked a glance outside. The village across the river that I grew up watching every year I passed this road, was just gone, all I could make out was the outline of a few roofs, a broken wall sometimes. I had barely recognized the mosque from its one standing wall and half a portion of its “Mehrab”. I just diverted my attention to the other side of the road and in front of me along the roadside, was bodies; the walls of the houses were broken or cracked and the dwellers were sitting along the roadside with their dead and wounded, purse-lipped or weeping or just shaken. The after-shocks rocked the earth eventually and panic struck many times, and finally we reached Battagram city.
Headquarter Hospital of the District is at the main entrance and it was packed with wounded and unconscious, missing one body part or the other. Adjacent was the Army Camp where the rescue tried to help us get to my Aunt, who lived in Valley of Alley, but all the communication was shut. And we had no idea of her whereabouts. So we just came back from the city, for some piece of road was missing. No travellers were allowed to pass the area. All the way back to Mansehra, we travelled and saw the same destruction and panic all over again.
Only two hours before I was at my school. It was a beautiful day and our attendance was about to be called. And then earthquake hit, shook the school building. Panic stricken, the students ran outside and a few were left when an after-shock came, dropping a few bricks from roof where construction was still in progress. Everybody ran for home asa the news came that a whole city, Balakot, had been shaken to the ground and adjacent cities were heavily damaged. That was October 8, 2005 when Pakistan, Iran, Afghanistan, India and the belt was being hit by a moment magnitude of 7.6 centered at Pak-Belt, where death toll was estimated nearly 75,000.
In panic we left for Battagram and witnessed what I stated. We had been able to get in touch with my Aunt after a week or so and brought her home. She survived. But mothers lost kids, fathers buried sons and daughters, and even some lost the whole families, worse than that, all of them were just; gone. But we remember them. The nation grieved and helped and did the best to rehabilitate.
I remember the fear, I remember the pain. I remember the tears, and I certainly remember the feel. But above all I remember the love, sympathy, and the nation’s unity in hard times. Many of us suffered but they survived. Still every year a tide of grief comes and passes by. But life just goes on. It just does what has to be done, she just teaches and teaches; otherwise how come we gonna survive.
( Response to a writing challenge: http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/08/05/writing-challenge-remember/ )
Working around the edges of the politics, we even sometimes forget what we are, what we do, and even sometimes the real face of humanity is just scratched away. Politics being the most ancient occupation of the civilization, ‘Course after the prostitution but I, like many, don’t get the real difference between them at all. One is metaphor for selling the body and the other is for the land. And it’s very much ironic that always it goes in the hand of the one, that don’t seem to realize the importance of the position that they have been chosen for. Yeah they do care about the power that comes along but it’s considered to be the tertiary root, Power is one real and primary to it (so far).
The so called “of, for and by” rule is always having a nagging effect on me. It’s doing grea’ for the West and those who respect the system. Contrary our people rise, present the best discipline of liveliness when it comes to Shahzeb Murder Case, Mukhtaran’s issues, Dr. Afia Siddique’s Confinement or should I say imprisonment, Sialkot Case, Tauheen-e-Risalat Case, Salman Taseer’s Case, with a force that can move mountains and the next moment this emotional build just falls back with another so-called-counter-blow, and then it seems like we aren’t there anymore. Nothing’s the problem with the democracy, but our emotional compatibility is disastrous. Sharing of government and hereditary issues, is an old story now. Seems like I have talked much, but hey it’s just one of the packages that come free under the tag of “Awam”, so let me just talk.
On my way back to home from Lahore, there was one person and he was a journalism student. We sort of started the conversation and what we concluded at that night was very simple and so easy to put like “Every bad news is a good news, and good news (brows meeting), well there is no such thing as “good-news” fellas.” News channels have come up to the same reputation as we had for StarPlus sometime back in a near past. Live Transmission of Royal-Births comes in bonus like we have nothing else to do in the seven kingdoms. Ramadan transmissions are even in worse shape. What-in-the-name-of-God is going on? Our dramas, reality shows and morning/evening transmission, do they really are presenting our culture and a common man? Is it really who we are? Is it really our culture or is it just new us in-making?
The real talk was to have a non-political view but to be honest; in every walk of life we can’t just ignore the political issues. It just comes up, from ground zero to elevator point; we all seem to have an aversion towards the apolitical views. What we need now is a thorough grasp of our actions. We need to understand that Politics isn’t the only issue we have; our day to day activities do have a cut in our fall. Somewhere in ma mind I see a common point for Prostitution and politics, and I call it “Prostitution of mind”. The state of mind where we have contradiction between what we think and what we do. What we need to do is, we have to shed the attitude. HM Naqvi said, “We’d become Japs, Jews, Niggers. We weren’t before.” We need to act for M.H. Rakib says,“A small dream leads to a big idea and endless opportunity…..!”
Take the opportunity and don’t be pushed by your problems. Be led by your dreams. Work around the edges and live to the fullest but keep apolitical track of the life. You will be amazed what you can achieve.
“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than the ones you did. So, throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.” – Mark Twain
Aside Posted on Updated on
Looking around oneself, observing the past, predicting the future through the mists of creation, wandering around the edges of life and death, articulation gives you a feeling that you have something special inside you. You have an idea, which can either disintegrate or integrate you with the soul of world. Speaking of which, anyone who can bond with his soul, can bond with the soul of the world. Lord of the Heaven created mortal and gave him this special sense of understanding. With that understanding, he learns about himself, he gets himself acquainted with whatever he wants to.
We learn, engage, excel. Out of the mist of art, emerges our true self. The creator has done his job, and “Oh Lord! How beautifully He has done it.”. Its now your turn, your choice and only you have to decide what you want and how you want it. Let us create our own paradise. It’s never too late. You might have heard of the fragrance that remains in the hands of those who give roses. But striking point is roses are not to be plucked, Let them be. Innocence is not for you to tarnish, Let it be. Beauty isn’t for you to dishonor, let it flow with the soul of the world. Just let it be added to Soul of the World!
” The earth does not belong to man; man belongs to the earth. This we know. All things are connected, like the blood which unites one family. Whatever befalls the earth befalls the sons of the earth. Man did not weave the web of life; he is merely a strand in it. Whatever he does to the web, he does to himself.” – Chief Seattle