I Am Hazara!

I was mother of a son till yesterday when a bomb blast took this privilege of life from me. My son lost his life in this attack. Unfortunately, I am not alone. See there! these are all mothers and sisters who have lost their loved ones. These are all those who have a reason not to smile for rest of their lives.

I don’t know what my son did, what was his crime, what did he do to be killed brutally? I know he was Shia, but is it a crime?

Someone has killed my motherhood. That someone calls himself a Muslim, I know. How dare he can call himself a Muslim when he cannot call himself a human? Who gave him this right? Who the hell gave him this duty to kill? Who is he? How can I curse him? Oh Rabba!

With all other ill-fated families, I am not burying my son. For the sake of our breathing ones, we are taking this bold step of not burying our non-breathing ones until we get a promising word of justice. We want protection. Your silence has killed my son; now speak with me to stop this genocide. If you have a reason, talk to us. You can teach us, you can argue; but you cannot kill us.

Prophets didn’t kill people. Companions of Prophets didn’t kill people. They were used to preach through harmony and peace. In the worst cases, they were used to leave. They never killed. They never started genocide.

I remember how my Prophet PBUH treated Abu Jahl when he reached height of disrespect. My Prophet PBUH just changed his way. He PBUH didn’t kill Abu Jahl.

What is the reason behind your killing? How you encourage someone to this worst level of act against humanity?

Do you use money? Shame!

Do you blackmail? Shame!

Do you use religion? Shame!

Do you use Islam? SHAME!

How dare you use my religion to kill my son?

Before yesterday, I was full of motherhood, love, harmony and peace. Since yesterday, I have become a body who is cursing everything around her. I wish all the mothers die before seeing their motherliness lying in front of them with such brutality. I wish I would have died before yesterday.

This is the body of my son. Yes this is his blood. This is blood of a Muslim, a Muhammadi, a Husseini, a Pakistani and a martyr. I’m not burying him till I get a promising word of safety for all other sons around. You cannot imagine at what stage of life I am now as I myself never thought of it. I never thought that this life will take me to this verge of obscurity. But here I am standing with my dead son.

I will leave quietly as soon as you will give me justice. I will leave when you guarantee the protection of my people. Then I will bury my son. I will leave this road. I will go back to my home where I have enough space and life to grieve.

Please give me justice and let my son have a proper burial. You didn’t treat him right when he was alive. Please treat him right when he is no more. Stand beside and speak with me!

 

Book: “Jinnah: India – Partition – Independence” by Jaswant Singh

Following are some fragments from book “Jinnah: India – Partition – Independence” of Jaswant Singh which created a lot of controversies in India.

It was the turn of the century. Great Britain was at the height of its imperial glory, Queen Victoria reigned majestically supreme, the lords, the ladies and the sahibs who ruled on her behalf in India saw not a speck of cloud obstructing their imperial vision. Not a single troublesome dot. How in such a scenario socially very far from nawabs of India, not the inheritor of family wealth, standing or name, etch his name so boldly and so indelibly on the social and political firmament of India? That was Mohammed Ali Jinnah.

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Jinnah was a source of power. Gandhi … an instrument of it… Jinnah was a cold rationalist in politics— he had a one track mind, with great force behind it. Then: Jinnah was potentially kind, but in behavior extremely cold and distant. Gandhi embodied compassion. Jinnah did not wish to touch the poor.

For Jinnah, a secondary status was galling, what he had always sought and mostly attained was the centre stage.

(Page # 78)

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Both (Jinnah & Gandhi) born of Kathiawari trading communities… One shaped religion to his political ends; the other shunned it on grounds of principle. Gandhi, in a very real sense was deeply under the influence of Tolstoy. Jinnah recognized the political impress only of Dadabhai and Gokhale. Gandhi led his personal publicly. Jinnah led even his public life close to his chest.

(Page # 99)

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Nehru himself set the tone with his haughty remark in March 1937. “There are only two forces in India today, British imperialism and Indian nationalism as represented by Congress.” Jinnah was quick to retort: “No, there is a third party, the Musalmans.” History was to bear him out.

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Gandhi admitted failure in his quest… He (M. A. Jinnah) won Pakistan with the help of just a typewriter and a clerk. (Chapter # 2)

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We went always to Europe not to those great cities, the great centres of civilisation, our historical and cultural kin: Baghdad, Istanbul/Ankara, Cairo, Tehran.

(Page # 153)

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Answer to letter of Nehru;

When you said that “I am afraid I must confess that I do not know what fundamental points in dispute are”, I am only amazed at your ignorance.”

(Page # 247-248)

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The celebration of 23 March as “Pakistan Day” did not start before 1956. It was first celebrated as “Republic Day” to mark the passage of the first constitution and the emergence of Pakistan as an independent republic similar in importance as “26 January” for India. However when General Mohammad Ayub Khan abrogated the constitution and established martial in 1958, he was faced with a dilemma. He could not let the country celebrate a day commemorating the constitution that he had himself torn apart, nor could he cancel the celebration altogether. A way-out was found by keeping the celebration, but giving it another name: “the Pakistan Resolution Day”.

(Page # 272)

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Notes from Lord Wavell’s Diary:

August 27, 1946: “Gandhi said that if a blood bath was necessary, it would come about in spite of non-violence.”

August 28, 1946: “During the morning I received an abusive and vindictive letter from Gandhi… It confirmed the view I have always held of Gandhi, that his professions of non-violence and saintliness are political weapons against the British rather than natural attributes.”

(Page # 391)

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On 7th August, with Ahsan, the Naval ADC, Miss Jinnah, and the Quaid, we flew from Delhi to Karachi, in Mountbatten’s white Dakota. There were only a handful of people to see him off. Before leaving the house Jinnah had given me a cane basket full of documents to take to the aircraft. Before we took off, he went out to be photographed, but he did not speak. As we taxied out he made only one remark; he murmured, “That’s the end of that”, meaning, I supposed, the end of the struggle on Indian soil.

He was perfectly dressed, as eve, in a white sherwani, and his Jinnah cap. Dark glasses. Miss Jinnah sat in the front and I sat opposite the Quaid. He had an immense bundle of newspapers which he read immediately and during the entire flight. Only once, he spoke. He handed me some of the newspapers and said, “Would you like to read these?”

This was his only remark during a journey of 4 hours – all he said in what one might describe as the greatest hours of his life… We reached Karachi in the evening, and as we flew over Mauripur, Jinnah looked down and saw thousands of people waiting for him, including many women – waiting on the sand, to greet him… Even then there was no change in his expression and he did not say a word. He was the first to emerge from the aircraft, followed by Miss Jinnah. All the Muslim big guns were waiting for him. He shook hands with a few o them, and then got into the motor-car.

The thousands of people were cheering, “Pakistan Zindabad!” “Quaid-i-Azam Zindabad”, still he showed no signs of pleasure. He was very tired and he entered Government House, for the first time, without a word. After two or three days he changed his apartment from the left to the right side of the house.

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Retrospect by Jaswant Singh;

Pakistan and its citizens have doubtlessly suffered grievously in the six decades of an independent existence. A break-up into two, in the emergence of Bangladesh; four military dictatorships during these decades; on top of which came the civilian governments that did not exactly serve the land, all this has inflicted upon the citizens of Pakistan untold hardships. There were then these several conflicts with India, each draining the land of resources. Whereafter arrived extremism. The country is now ravaged by all varieties of sectarian and provincial divisions, extremism, violence. And yet, it demonstrates a great vitality, enormous natural creativity and exuberance and, of course, always an outgoing heart-warming hospitality. In comparison so much of the past pales, for Pakistan has overcome many near impossible obstacles. However, the dream of the late Quaid and the current reality do not entirely harmonize, which is a saddening comment for the lad, for its people, in trust, merit so much more.

(Page # 522)

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Note: Page numbers are according book’s edition of 2009 by Rupa Publications, New Delhi.

Tragedy

It was 2:00 in the morning. He opened the drawer of his side-table. There was a pack but only one cigarette left. The whole night and one cigarette were as depressing as the darkness of the load-shedding.

He went to the balcony. It was a pitch-black night with no stars and a cold breeze moving with a light rustling sound. He moved to the corner, put the cigarette in his mouth, and lit it. It was a strange cigarette. It didn’t burn properly, and the fire was gone. He tried again and nothing.

He moved back to his room, took the cigarette in front of the laptop’s light. And there was the whole world upside down. It was the filter which was all burned and wasted. The last cigarette was gone. The era of darkness sustained. Such are the times when tragedies are born. However, such are also the times when the sunrise brings divine comedy.

Things I Don’t Need

I have a wish to never drive or sit in a limousine. It surely sounds absurd or epic or perhaps lunatic, but to be honest, the answer to this question is as simple as the title of this blog. I will quote Aristotle here, who once said that there are thousands of things in this world that I don’t need.

Today, the whole world is about media and information technology. They are loaded with advertisements trying to convert our needs into wants; and thus making us the most miserable creature on earth.

The miserable and unsatisfied expression on the face of a homeless man can also be seen on faces of billion dollar gurus of “corporatocracy”.

This rising misery within all of us is mainly because we are taught and fed with lies of not-needed-wants daily. During my professional education, none of my teachers were impressed with lives and living styles of Prophet PBUH, Edhi, Rumi, Bhudda, Kafka, Tolstoy, Mansur, etc. All were fans of Steve Jobs, Gates, Mittal, Zuckerberg, and Warren Buffet. We were mostly taught how to make money, and never about spirituality. We were taught to avail opportunities, without moral or ethical considerations.

We sometimes run into someone different during life moments. It is said that we can have tens of teachers but only 3 to 4 mentors. One of my mentors, who happened to be the only spiritual teacher in my professional education, focused more on teachings of Ibn-e-Khaldun, Karl Marx and sufism. Being a teacher of a professional business course, he never emphasized on making money, accumulating furniture, carrying handheld devices, buying cars, attires, formalities, or being artificially smart and unbeaten by plea.

But, with around forty materialistic teachers and one spiritualistic, I turned out to be more of a machine. The biggest problem that Pakistan, perhaps the whole world, is currently facing is the problem of being someone else; like being famous without doing anything, having heavy bank balance without working physically and being recognized for someone else’s work. Unfortunately.

Answer to this dilemma is simple: having patience, being conscientious, living within limits, understanding the cycle of life, reading regularly…

We need to shift focus. There are beggars and there are advertisements on the billboards at a road signal.

We simply have to change the seeing and thinking attitude and change in preferences will follow.

I have been in problem that I have mentioned above, but I am not the solution that I have described above. I am working on it. You have to pin your own bubble of wants yourself. Only then you will realize there are billions of things in this world you don’t need.