Wednesday, July 21, 2004

Whoa! Apollo 11 your 35th!


Hey Houston!!!
So it's been 35 years and damn I'm forgetful. Yesterday! Full 35 years since that one man took one small step for himself and one giant leap for mankind. Ah! And I'm late by one day. Anyway, wishing a very very Happy Birthday to that cause. I hope somewhere at JPL they're working on some nice rocket to take a few more of us up there for a moonwalk, InshAllah!

War Threats Peace

War Threats Peace

War and peace are terms that have been synonimized in today’s world due to the trend started by Adolph Hitler by starting the First World War. As the world moved from that episode, a second world war was started. After that there have been numerous wars that have been fought the world over, including civilian strife.

As many people as there are who are the proponents of peace, there would still be many who would tell you that war is important. There would be many reasons given by them for this laughable statement. Even in the non-civilized worlds, wars either used to be carried out for looting, plundering and pillaging or self-defense but nowadays a new trend has come to the fore, that of pre-emptive strikes: to strike the enemy in self-defense but without any provocation. That is what America is doing in Iraq.

Then there are wars that are fought for land that rightfully belongs to the races settled on that land. The finest examples would be Palestine and Kashmir.

The world has made at least some phony efforts at peace by making first the League of Nations and then United Nations. However, nowadays, even the United Nations fails to bring peace to war ravaged nations as it has become a puppet organization in the hands of its biggest member countries who are always either ready to veto peace moves or themselves be aggravators. Russia has been doing this in Chechnya for more than a decade now.

What a shame it is that today, peace has no value. It is fast becoming a term just for philosophers and academics. A term just found in books and not in the world we live in. Where there is war, there is only talk of peace and then even that disappears. There are white doves but no moves for peace.

Of all the wars that have been fought, there is seldom peace in the end. Wars might be fought for any reason, from regime change to no reasons at all. However, not only does a war have a human cost but also costs for the aggressor. Look at Afghanistan today. The USSR started the war in Afghanistan and it did not end but it was reduced from a cold war superpower to many of its component states. Then the civil war continued there for another decade until the Americans struck in the name of war on terror. Thus, the war in Afghanistan still goes on. Not only have many Afghans and many Americans lost lives but it is also costing billions to the Americans when they have started an offensive in Iraq also.

Evident from the Iraq chapter is another bitter truth for the world to see in light of all the examples given to us by history. That even this war might never end and even if it does, there would be no peace. In fact, there would be bitterness and resentment among the people against whom this atrocious crime of aggression has been carried out in the name of pre-emption, right in front of the very eyes of the world rather too blatantly.

If the world leaders and peace bodies keep quiet about these things, that day will not be far off when countries would be attacking each other on no premises at all. War would become the norm and they would be fought long and hard because weapons are as readily available to the aggressors as to the aggressed.


Thursday October 02, 2003

I wrote this as an essay-speech for my friend Shehryar, who had promised someone to write her a speech. It later went on to win the first prize in the speech competition. I don't know this really well but if I'm not wrong, she was first among all the schools of the whole province. I was a bit flattered and also embarrassed *lol* I always get embarrassed and start blushing when something nice involving me happens and I think the same happens when there aren't many things nice. (:

Shehryar told me that the girl was thanking the person who wrote it for her. For me that would've been enough but it's always nice to know that something you did went an extra mile or two to make someone happy (in this case, by winning the first prize... hooray!). I think I was happier than anyone to make a few people happy.

The text of the essay is unmodified here. Sherry made some minor changes in it. He added a few lines about Kashmir. Of course I always agree with Shakespeare that, "Brevity is the soul of wit" and would continue to do so. :P

There's one thing that needs to be added to the essay though. People on all sides of a war suffer. The human toll is the biggest loss. I seriously doubt that a person who loses a family member would think about economy or gas prices or things like that (though in the long term one has to forget the human loss and concentrate on economy) and say it's all right because this might help me. We do tend to put invisible band aids on the marks left by the loss of someone close but they're always there for us to see. To remind us of our losses. Wars cripple people's hearts. They take away innocence. They make people vengeful and bitter. These are some of the reasons why I hate wars but most of all I hate them because I was watching Fahrenheit 9/11 and my heart was going out to the Lila Lipscombe who lost her son to the war. My heart went out to the woman whose whole family was obliterated. My heart went out to the whole world in those moments. I remember when the planes were shown crashing into the Twin Towers. I remember how I had cried. Must the innocent be punished for the sins of a few? That question now repeats itself in my head again. It was 2001 then and 2004 now. Nothing seems to have changed.

Yes. I still hate war. Maybe, more.


I wrote a few stories back in 2000 (12 to be exact). I used to write one at the end of every month except for December. They are incoherent yet linked because in many ways they're offshoots of my own every day experiences. I just made some modifications or added a few things here and there. I find that, essentially, even life is just a story. The difference between something written on a paper (or typed in a wordprocessor) is that the story called Life is happening all around me even as I type right now. On the other hand, these stories that we have in our minds might be extensions of the main plot but they're almost always in our heads. Even sometimes, recalls are stories fabricated by people to make them interesting for the listeners or readers. Somehow, sometimes even history seems like that...
The one for December was written all over the year so it might be the one, which is most incoherent (though it's name might suggest otherwise). I don't think that I need coherence to put my point across. The point of writing is sometimes to unburden oneself and at times to burden the reader. The diary in which I had been writing down my thoughts (and notes) had been issued by some French company, thus the French names. That is not much of a reason. I guess it was more like I found some secret titles in those names.
I thought I'd put them up on my blog. At least just for populating it *laughs* because I think I'm almost out of fresh things to say. Nowadays, there's just one thing on my mind and that's how I'm going to continue with my education sans money. Phew! It's making me sad. Guess on with the stories then.

Wednesday, July 07, 2004


Oops! Not that I'm an American but I must say it is one of my most favorite countries. It saddens me to see what THE Bush has done to it. So today when I was looking at another blog (through a random search), I clicked on this link. Found this code and now it's here. :P

Monday, July 05, 2004

I Always Get Late

Here's a poem by Munir Niazi, I translated from Urdu on 18th November, 2003, the day after someone's birthday. I don't know for sure, but I think that someone had some part in spurring this creative surge.

Anyway, what I really don't know about this poem is whether the translation does at least 50% justice to the actual poem. There's no one here at least in Peshawar who could help me find that out. I mean, no one who is an expert in both languages who could say, ok, this is a good translation or a bad translation. Khair, let's see. One of these days, I might get lucky too. (:

I Always Get Late (Belated)

I always get late in doing things
To say something, to keep a promise
To call him, to beckon him back
I always get late.
To help him, or to sympathize with my friend
To meet someone on ways unrevealed
I always get late.
To put my heart in the changing seasons
To remember someone, to forget someone
I always get late.
To save someone from some grief before death
To tell someone that the truth was something else
I always get late in doing everything.

Munir Niazi

Your Name Distresses Me Sometimes

This is one of those poem, after reading which, you start thinking about things. Certain things that you might otherwise not have wanted to think about. I guess Nasir Kazmi is the kind of poet who has always brought feelings and vague things into focus for me. The first time I read him was when I was 14. What's more interesting is that he gives that socialist touch in his poetry. The people's poet. Since, I don't know anything about the poet's life (there's not much literature available on that here in Peshawar... sigh!) and as I said in the last post, there isn't anyone I really know who'd know about these things. Living in Peshawar is not easy. It seems bereft of literary talent. *double sighs* There is Sir Taha Khan but how would I go meet him? That's another problem. Being a girl out here is a big problem. Nopes. Not a problem. It's a handicap. I'm far from the topic I started. So I was saying, to me Nasir Kazmi seems like a socialist or a communist (during his time, there were many socialist/communist poets and no I'm not confusing the two ideologies) because he used to write about the common man and his problems like life, economy, jobs etc. Anyway, I'll leave these thoughts incomplete for now. I need more information. I might be going to the Central Library in a few days. I'll see if I can find some information on him. Hope so!

Your Name Distresses Me Sometimes

Your name distresses me sometimes
And without a cause do I feel restless sometimes

Oh, heart! Who has this gift of anxiousness?
Only some get this comfort in life sometimes

With your blessings, oh pain of immaculate beauty
Has become the heart a resting place for friends sometimes

The vigor of madness in the tempest of sorrow
Has drowned your face in tears sometimes

A day when your proximity would not bring my heart content
Has gone by on me sometimes

Neither thought of you nor thoughts of mine
The night of parting has passed like that sometimes

Oh friend! Though long has it been since I quit love
I have felt your need sometimes

Nasir Kazmi

18th November 2003