Love letters from the past

We all are in love with the beauty of nothing

Like a bubble’s wish to live forever

Like a pain we all savor

We abhor the no

But how complete an answer it is

Buildings, corridors and memories

What they even mean if nobody cherishes them

The void that everyone tries to fill

With a dump of emotions

Rotten farewells

Old letters

Expired gifts

There is a box that contains all this

The box that has love letters from the past

The words that now mean nothing

The words that meant a world once

Why to carry a weight

That neither kills you nor drowns you

Why live in past

Why to drive around a roundabout again and again

When you can go straight  

We love to hate Dr. Aamir Liaquat Hussian

Dr. Aamir Liaquat Hussain is many things but currently he is an anchorperson and is associated with the BOL channel. Recently, he made headlines again when he visited Myanmar along with the famous TV host Waqar Zaka to highlight the plight of the Rohingya Muslims, who are facing atrocities at the hands of the Myanmar authorities. Reportedly he was detained at the Rangoon airport when he told the local authorities about the nature of his visit and then was later deported. He has safely reached Pakistan. 

On the home front, his sojourn to Myanmar has ignited a variety of reactions; some have applauded him for his step while many keeping in mind his persona and past antics called the whole initiative just a TRP exercise. Some even went a step ahead and called that he did not even had the ticket or visa to go to Myanmar and all this is mere cosmetics.  

The reality is that we all love to hate Dr. Aamir Liaquat Hussain. We call him a poser but his Ramzan transmission has the highest TRP ratings. We blame him for commercialization of Ramzan but somewhere in-between we forget about all the price hiking and black marketing that takes place during Ramzan. We question his antics on television but forget that up to what extent we go, on the national television for unique kee bike or a Q-mobile. I accept that Dr. Aamir Liaquat Hussain is not perfect but is he the only thing that is wrong with us and our society? Blaming him does not rid us of what we are. Like any other human he must have a good side but this does not attract our attention because you cannot mock a person for a good deed and this also do not fulfill our ulterior motive which is to fetch ourselves as many as likes or re-tweets possible. In order to become sarcastic we are fast becoming pejorative.

Today only negativity sells and we are the biggest buyers of all. In our pursuit of negativity, we have become myopic to the extent that we have ceased to appreciate positivity of any kind. We believe there is conspiracy behind everything even if it is Pakistan’s Champion trophy victory or Malala winning the Nobel peace prize. We think so low of ourselves, that we believe that we lack the spine to achieve anything on our own. How someone like Malala who has become a face of girl education and female rights, internationally can be our enemy. Even if we suppose that she is a western stooge for a minute, in short an imposter still what she represents by all means is only good and best for our girls. If you do not want to support Malala, do not do it but support her message. Sometimes it does not matter who is saying, the thing that really matters is what he or she is saying. In our hate for that particular person we forget this very thing. We refuse to accept the possibility that something good can come out of that person.

This brings me back to Dr. Aamir Liaquat Hussain and his visit to Myanmar. Suddenly all of us have become altruistic but none of this altruism is directed towards the Rohingya Muslims instead we are praying for the martyrdom of Dr. Amir Liaquat Hussain in Myanmar. Various memes are being made and shared on the social media websites which mock him and his initiative. I guess somewhere in their heads they still think that all of this is just some segment of his game show but in actuality it is not and mind you martyrdom is not some “lawn kee sale” that anyone can get it.

Personally, I think that even if it is just a symbolic gesture on his part it is more powerful than most of the words we have said in the support of the Rohingyas and is above all the mock and flogging he is receiving at the moment mainly because it involves a practical action. He could have joined all those who are busy beating their chests and are giving empty rhetoric on media platforms in support of Rohingya Muslims and against the government of Myanmar, believe me he could have done this better than all of them but instead he choose to go there in person, to experience their misery first hand. This feat is worthy of being copied, if not copied then surely it should be appreciated and encouraged. This is the least we all can do. Until when we will continue to play the crowd to a lynching, silent witnesses to a vani or a kar-o-karee or will continue to vote ourselves out? We have to stand for ourselves. Before anything we should realize and recognize that there is a problem in our collective attitudes and behaviors and it needs to be rectified. We have to grow patience and respect for others and their actions which do not conform to us. We should respect the personal space of the others if we want our personal space to be respected.  

We should realize that it is not the face but the message that matters.

(A version of this piece has been published by the blog section of the Express Tribune on 15th September, 2017)

Love and Marriage

Truth is said to be the first casualty of war. The same is said for love and intellect. Intellect is the price that one has to pay for getting love. This assumption is rather false as it is not in love but marriage, where one has to lose his wit and at times guts too. Marriage starts from the point where love ends. It is evident from all the great love stories from Romeo Juliet to our very own Heer Ranjha. You will find only two similarities between all these stories, one is love and the second is that the lead protagonists never got married.

One thing is for sure that all these legendary love stories would not have been such legends if those lovelorns had married each other. Romeo would have still died but not by drinking poison by eating the “teen’daas” that Juliet would have cooked for him. Ranjha instead of running “I hate Qaido club” would have organized a “Qaido fan club” as that crippled, bhung enthusiast was the only one who tried to talk some sense into Ranjha. Had Sohni opted for an uber ride instead of that ill-fated attempt to cross the river with the help of a clay pitcher, then Mahiwal would have been dropping-off children at school and buying “unda double roti” for life instead of grazing buffaloes for Sohni’s father. Punhunn instead of passing as a washer man for Sassi’s father would only needed a “sarkari nokri” to qualify for Saasi’s hand in marriage. On the other hand, assume had these couples been alive in today’s time and day, I assure you that they have still stayed unmarried but because of variety of reasons such as dowry, phupho ka bay’ta, mah life mah rules and papa kee princess attitude of the girls. In short marriage is the “m” in love means there is no marriage in love.

Jokes apart, the truth is that I was lying until now just to make you to read these last two paragraphs. Marriage is the logical conclusion of love. If love is Fakhar Zaman’s century then marriage is Aamir’s three wickets; you cannot win a match without both. The amount of happiness that one gains from love and then marriage, does not requires one to be an Einstein to feel it, a mere simple human made of flesh and blood can feel it.

Love also do not deprive you from intellect, it is a world of its own which has its own standards of sagacity and wisdom. Love enriches you in such ways that Mansoor starts chanting An-al-Haq; you no longer stay you, you become theirs and them. This transformation can only be understood by those who go through the ordeal of loving someone. May you get love and marriage; whichever of these two gifts come first always hope and pray that it is followed by the second one. May your love be the sea where intellect floats and hate drowns.     

The girl with a big yellow umbrella

No sun rays

No raindrops that are pouring

No unwanted gaze can reach her

Her big yellow umbrella keeps every unwanted thing away

Walking while holding it in her hands, she looks like some burning meteor

But for many she is a shooting star

They wish upon watching her

Their days turn brighter than that yellow umbrella

There are legends about her

Some say she is a princess on the run

Some call her the lady of the night

Some just call her ordinary

Some wish, some lust and some fear her

But still everybody thinks about her, talks about her

And she like any dream lives on passes by but nobody can catch her

A futile pursuit

But a worthy one

If that yellow umbrella do not make its way through the street

We fear that the sun might not come out

The time will stop breathing

In short, that yellow umbrella is imperative for our survival

The truth is  

She has no name

No address

But a single identity

The girl with a big yellow umbrella

That bench in the garden

That bench in the garden

That shrub that always covers it from the above

Today when you were not there

I sat there alone for the first time

I have never felt that slab this cold before

And that shrub without a flower before

I reminisced the long talks

The grass that was beneath our feet

You know it is still yellow

The breeze that made your hair go sway

Has stopped since you have gone

That anthill that worried you so much

The ants have vacated it

But they have repaired the swings

And you can here children laughing

Amidst all this I realized what that bench is

It is a shrine

A shrine where my love with your memories is buried

I paid my respects

A nice place where I can mourn our love

Those endless numbered sunny days

They just do not go away

Even if I try

Even if I cry