Wednesday, October 29, 2008

NO VISION - NO SUCCESS

The Man with a vision to found a New State
          
          Last Sunday, while browsing over different books and magazines spread on ground in the old book corner of Lahore Cantt.’s main department store, I came across an old magazine. Its title was torn off, as also was the name of the author who wrote this article.
         Having glanced over a few lines, I got interested to know more about what the writer wanted to say, so I got this mag from the vendor. Having found the article profoundly analytical, thought provoking and all said in a particularly simple, to the point manner I thought I should share this with my fellow Pakistanis to see what went wrong with us and how can we redress it even now.
        Normally I do try to put up posts on our blog which are original, however, we do reproduce off and on such matter which could be of interest to our readers in Pakistan or so many other readers who regularly visit this site from all over the globe.
And now the article....

             NO VISION——NO SUCCESS
  • Lack of a national and individual vision

    The price we pay for having not been able to answer this question in a lifetime of sixty years is chaos and confusion. Without vision there is no commitment and without commitment, there is no success. It is as simple as that.
  • No vision means, complete confusion!
    Vision is the uniting force for a nation. We in Pakistan need it more than any one else. Because of the diverse nature of our people “Peaceful and Prosperous Pakistan” could be a vision for Pakistanis. It should be our declared policy that we want to build better life for our people. As the wise say “Actions speak louder than words”, our actions must support OUR vision. Our mission to lead the Islamic world or the whole world is a bittoo much. We should base our mission / goal on more realistic basis. If we do
small things right, may be later, we can do the big things right. There should be an open debate on national vision. And the national vision must be shared by all the people, all provinces, the whole nation. It should not represent an individual or one institution; it must be a nation based approach, widely debated and widely shared.
  • Convert vision into measurable and specific / short / long term goals
We must convert the national vision into specific and measurable goals with the time frame for all significant areas of endeavor. For example, we may set specific and measurable targets for education, like 100% literacy rate by 2012. These goals may further be sub grouped into regional and departmental short term goals. Major areas like those listed below may further be grouped into specific and measurable goals specific measurable goals with specific time frames like:-

· Poverty Alleviation
· Health for all
· Education, science exploration, Freedom of Enquiry, commitment to truth and reward for excellence.
· Justice (law and order)
· Employment and equal opportunity
· Promotion of music, art, culture and all forms of creativity
· Tolerance of other religions, their ways of thinking and living
· Being at peace with history
· Our global role
· National defense, military as well as ideological

Islam, Islam, Islam

We have to come up with a national vision that incorporates Islam because it is the religion of the majority of Pakistanis. By the grace of Allah I am a Muslim and nobody other than Allah has the power to decide otherwise. Law of opposites suggests that the more the hype less the action. Let us stop clamoring Islam, Islam and Islam and focus on doing what it demands us to do. One of the greatest hurdles in our development is the narrow and wrong interpretation of Islam. This attitude sends a signal to the world that Islam is their enemy. In fact it is the greatest friend any one can possibly have. Islam brings good news for the people, while our brand of Islam only brings bad news. How come? The only way forward in this regard is having an open national debate on the issue of Islam and then we take a vote on the course of action we want to take. We cannot, and we should not try to, change Islam. We may however, develop some form of consensus on the issue of Islam. People do what they clearly see to be in their benefit. If we can make them see that Islam is in their benefit, they will welcome it. If they see better quality of life, justice, equality, freedom of speech, law and order, prosperity coming their way, they are not mad to resist it.

Islam stands for peace, prosperity, individual liberty, justice, equality, fair distribution of wealth and opportunity, learning question and search for answers, freedom of speech, accountability. That’s the Islam I know about.

 India our neighbor and accidental benefactor

Indian leadership secretly hopes that our nation would dissolve in due course of time. We have tried very hard to prove them right. Unfortunately Indian leadership either has sadly not shown great visionary ability over the years. They facilitated the making of Pakistan and facilitated, though unintentionally, making Pakistan a nuclear power. In that sense, we owe a lot to them. There must be normal friendly relations with India, but not at the cost of Pakistan. Ours is a poor country and we cannot afford expensive nuclear weapons. But we must see things in right context. We live in a real dangerous world, where weaker nations are attacked and wiped out just on the flimsiest of evidence and arguments as thin as fading mist. One can bet one’s last penny on the fact that in the light of the recent international events a dozen countries are aspiring to go nuclear.

Are all Great men born in the West?

International media is dominated by the USA and its allies. It has falsely created an image that all great men are born in the west. If greatness is defined as acts of self sacrifice, act of character, acts of standing steadfast in the face of opposition and hardship, risking life and limb for a cause, working for human development and stretching the domain of knowledge; then we will find many a great men in Pakistan. If a great man means rich and famous then it is hard to match Americans. In all honesty, it is much more difficult to do great deeds in chaotic conditions. Even Steven Covey, Anthony Robbins, Andrew Matthews, and Norman Vincent Pale, the custodians of positive (constructive / solution focused) thinking, will be hard pressed to retain their sanity in chaotic conditions. Had Bill Gates been born in chaotic country, he would probably be banging his head trying to talk sense into people and would be stuck in perennial debates on issues and would have no energy left for action. At a stage, the debates would have been so internalized in his head that he would have been swaying in a whirlpool of confusion, completely paralyzed for action.

World Powers are a dangerous reality
We cannot wish them away


The moral superiority of the west is a story of the past; lately they come up with amazingly inconsistent and flimsy arguments. They spy on UNO and Embassies and respond with great ease that “these things happen”. They attack sovereign nations and kill hundreds and thousands innocent civilians. In other words, any or every breach of morality and international law is just talked away or explained away. This situation puts us in a very dangerous position. We must watch our step, every step. If there was ever a moral world, it is gone. The age of innocence, if ever there was one, is over. Discretion must be the patron saint of our policy towards the great powers.

Some of the great powers are decidedly being led by men almost completely devoid of rationality (America or any other country is not inherently an enemy or inherently a friend. We may speak the language they understand. . Americans, despite all their limitations, are product of a tradition of debate and rationality. Let us talk to them in their language. There is hardly such a thing as absolutely free foreign policy. Recently BBC showed a programme tracking relationships between the British Prime Ministers and US Presidents of the last fifty years. It clearly demonstrated that there was no such thing as absolutely free foreign policy even for countries like Britain, Japan, France and Germany. We live in a real world. Our national vision has to become realty in the context of real world.

Father of the nation said: “character lost, everything lost”. Character is committing to cause and standing steadfast in the face of hardship and opposition. Small individual contributions tally up into national greatness. On the other hand, small individual dishonesties tally up into national disasters. Sadly, it is the part of our national mentality that we are extremely flexible in front of the powerful and extremely rigid in front of the weak.

Most of the Pakistanis want to go abroad. Why? In one word: injustice. We may go on debating about the greatness of our country for seven days and seven nights, the fact is that most of us want to go abroad. Sadly it is most skilled and most educated who end up going abroad. Government of Pakistan may partially be responsible for this, but essentially it’s we the people ourselves who are. Unfairness upon unfairness heaped upon an individual makes him think that there is rosy ideal world in the west and thus immigrate.

We have certain phenomenal qualities if only we learn to use them constructively, we are the unique adventurers. When I was studying in the UK my friends from other countries asked me what was my country like. I responded “It is an adventurous country”. Everyday is a new adventure. Adventure of such magnitude that would put Indiana Jones movies to shame.

We the creative

We find creative ways to bypass the law. We find creative ways to find short cuts to learning and education. Everyday we start a new experiment in politics. In that sense, we are the most creative nation on earth. Wake up friends! Every action has a reaction. This chain of cause and effect snowballs into an avalanche of troubles.


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Tuesday, October 28, 2008

EMPOWER YOURSELF WITH POWER OF YOUR HISTORY - TASTE THE REAL ESSENCE OF HISTORICAL PLACES

                                                                                                              
A View of the Enterance to Dai Anga's Tomb in Lahore

Have you ever been to Dai Anga’s mausoleum, in case of Yes or No, here we reveal the essence of this historic place, which we call the “History” should be our present, for those whose answer is “No”, have the chance to visit this marvelous piece of architecture and art of our forefathers, its beauty of art is about to end.

This is a monument which gives us a spur to build an incredible future like our marvelous and glorious past. When the sun unveils the day, the horizontal directional rays expose the real texture and art work of this square brick structure built on a raised platform with a large dome and four square pavilion like kiosks carrying projecting eaves and cupolas.

This is the perfect season to enjoy and understand the real ornamental and symmetrical beauty of the tomb; the fresh morning cool air gives you a rhythmic pleasant breath, which will allow you to properly concentrate on the nature of tomb and its art work. After few moments you’ll understand the splendid, magnificent and regality living of our subcontinent’s Muslim emperors.

As the sun rises gradually this worthy tomb, it’s top borders of the walls (parapet) having “Kashi Kari” (the mosaic) on it, which points towards the quality and kind of tile mosaic that in all likelihood once covered the entire façade and all this show you the love, respect and care for our loved ones. As being the Dai (Wet Nurse) of Mughal Emperor Shah Jahan, she deserves this honor. You can easily understand her importance as a Dai, as our Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) respects his Dai Haleema R.A.
At noon when the sun is at its full glory and its peak, this fully lighted worthy memorial mausoleum describes our generation the real height and boom of our powerful Muslim rulers in this continent. This is the perfect time when the warmth of sun rays increasing the temperature of the surrounding to give us the grandeur feeling of the respect and dignity that we had. Now is the time to let you imagine and float with the feelings that you are in the past and part of that era.
Now it’s the evening after illuminating the whole day of more than 400 years of Mughals’ the sun started setting, and the tomb shows the damages by the Singh and the Englishman.
Sun is setting now, you can hear the sound of birds chirping, birds, those who lived the whole day out from their nests in search of food, just came back their homes awaited by their children, this calm and peaceful atmosphere is available on the roof of the tomb which make you realize that you also have someone who needs your care and love. At this time looking through the arc one of the kiosks towards the red sun it will knock on our minds that we are missing something, we are losing something, where is our glory?

Photo Credits: On top: Genral View of the Tomb and on right: The Tombstone, by Sajjad Butt. On botom left, taken from a website but url could not be located.

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A SOULFUL EVENING AT ALHAMRA


Heer Recitals In Different Ragas

by Nayyar Hashmey

Every year in the last week of July the Urs of Baba Waris Shah is celebrated at Jandiala Sher Khan near Sheikhupura in Pakistan. WOP Contributing Editor Umair Ghani is a frequent visitor to this event. In two previous posts Umair portrayed the life and times of this doyen of Punjabi Sufi poets Syed Waris Shah titled as Waris Shah, Ishq da Waris, and the Legend of Heer and Ranjha.

Although I vey much wished to attend this event but during the days of Urs, I had to be in Islamabad, so was keen to learn the proceedings of the Urs specially the details of homage paid by the people of Pakistan and all those sons of Punjab who love this saintly poet irrespective of their national, religious or regional affiliations.

I thought of meeting Prof. Ghulam Rasool Azad who happens to live near Gurdawara Janam Asthan in Nankana Sahib in a house over which the shadows of the holy Gurdawara are cast as a shade. Prof Azad is a great lover of Punjabi and Syed Waris Shah and, as I was told he regularly attends the Urs of Baba Ji in Jandiala. But then Umair told me that there is an evening at Alhamra Cultural Complex where winners of Heer Recitals in JSK are giving a live rendition of Heer. So on we go and find there some very gifted singers who recited Heer in their unique and lovely style. But the peak performance was of course given by Mme Samina Najam Hassan and Risham Syed, respectively the wife and daughter of great living Sufi, Najam Hassan Syed, (A poet, writer and critic of Punjabi literature).

The beauty lies in unique rendition of Heer in different ragas by Syed’s family. Hitherto Heer has been sung only in bhairween style, a style which almost is an icon for the recital of Heer by different singers. It goes, to the credit of Najam Hassan Syed’s family that they have innovatively cast Heer into different ragas. Mme Samina Hassan has a voice which does not sound like the voice of a typical Heer singer, yet the mastery she has, the perfection she exhibits in her art, a style of singing that you wish she may go on singing and we go on listening. Her daughter Risham Syed, and Shafqat Hussain gave her a perfect ‘sangat’ and that makes rendition of Heer almost immortal. The mesmeric singing by the trio kept the audience spellbound.

Waris Shah is My Murshid and being a man of God, he has blessed me with every thing, says Baba Muhammad Sadiq

The evening is celebrated with great gusto by Lahore Art Forum. There at the Forum I met Baba Sadiq who is a staunch devotee of Syed Waris Shah and the principal organizer of the event. An ex banker, Baba Sadiq left his promising career in banking because of his love for the Guru, his mentor, his Pir and his Murshad Hz Syed Waris Shah. He is now full time devoted to propagate the thought of Waris Shah. Baba Sadiq relates the history of the event in following words.

I was serving as a manager of the Habib Bank Ltd. Railway Station Brach when somebody told me there was a Heer recital at Free Mason’s Hall on the Mall. I went there and it was my first listening to a Heer recital. I was so enthralled by the melody that I fell in love with the world of Heer poetry and its creator Baba Syed Waris Shah.

Baba Sadiq on doorsteps of Hujra where his Murshid comiled the classical love legend of Punjab

To find my Murshid I visited Jandiala Sher Khan (JSK) for the first time in 1975. I saw the mazar of Baba Ji in a pathetic condition. There were hardly 200 or so persons attending the Urs, the mazar had just a dilapidated boundary wall and the unmarked graves of Baba Ji, his brother and father. At that moment I wished and prayed that mausoleum befitting the persona of this great bard of the Punjabi poetry be built, so I contacted the then Chief Secretary Punjab late B.A. Qureshi. Mr. Qureshi himself was a man of great literary taste; he assured me his full support. A committee was formed of which I too was a member. The Chief Minister Punjab Mr. Hanif Ramay a superb writer of Urdu himself and a lover of Punjabi poetry too rendered his full support to us but the main conduit to get funds for our project was Mr. B.A. Qureshi.

Mr. Hanif Ramay then allocated funds for the mausoleum. Thus construction of the final abode of Baba Ji was started and it was completed in 1978. It was at this time that the idea struck my mind that a true image of Baba Ji be traced and this should be available to lovers of Punjabi poetry. There was a painted image of Baba Ji which was in a highly worn out condition. I took this image to photographer S.M. Khalid who is an expert in preparing true replication of old images.

I asked Baba Sadiq what was the source of this sketch and how much authentic it could be.

Bab Sadiq replied:

In 1970 one Malik Afzal, a publisher of Lahore issued special edition of a local magazine. This mag had three sketches of Baba Syed Waris Shah, namely:-
  1. Syed Waris Shah in the eyes of Western Punjab
  2. Waris Shah as seen in the Eastern Punjab
  3. Waris Shah as seen by the common man
I shared the 3 pics of Syed Waris Shah with S.M. Khalid and one that we thought could truly represent the person of Waris Shah was taken as a standard after a further probing had been made on its veracity and its similarity or exactness to how the great Punjabi poet looked like in his actual life.

To proceed further with my endeavor to find a verified description of Baba Waris Shah’s real life like image, I visited Malka Hans (It was here in Malka Hans where in a hujra of a mosque Waris had compiled his Heer Waris Shah), where one Baba Chiragh Din who was then 114 years old and was one time Imam of the mosque where Waris Shah had completed his epic poem. Baba Chiragh told me that his grand grand father was a contemporary of Syed Waris Shah and whatever he had learnt from his father (as was trnsferred from generation to generation) was most authentic and therefore reliable. The description of the life like image of Syed Waris Shah was then compared with one of the three images we got from Malik Afzal’s publication and the one which we found most similar to Baba Chiragh’s description was selected by me and the photographer Khalid, as final and authentic photo of Hz Syed Waris Shah. This very image is now taken as an officially recognized and undisputed image of Hz Syed Waris Shah.

Later, said Baba Sadiq: I set up a cultural centre “Jehan-e-Waris". This Centre was initially started to organize Heer reciting competitions. The first one of its type was held in 1978 which was won by one Nazeer Maseeh (a Christian by faith but a superb singer of Bhairween style of Heer recital). Now his son Suhail Maseeh, too is a good singer of Heer. Another member of Christian community who also has won the competition of Heer singing, is Liaquat Maseeh who recites Heer simultaneously on harmonium. (Liaquat Maseeh also sang Heer on Waris Shah Evening at Alhamra Cultural Complex).

In 1999, continued Baba Sadiq, I started the Centre of Spiritual Science, at the same place (Babu Sabu Estate near Sabza-zar, Lahore). Adjacent to the Centre, is a small beautiful Library, a free dispensary and a mosque. Every year, a competition is held in the last week of July and winners are awarded prizes by Baba Sadiq. And all these activities are but an humble tribute to my mentor, my Murshid, with whose blessings am rendering these services to humanity as much as I can. Baba Sadiq ended his coverage with a piece of his mentor:-

Chalo waastay Rabb de nal meray
Qadam ghatyan Faqar de houn khaireen
Waris Shah Mian tera Ilm hoya
Mash-hoor wich Jinn te Inss Taireen

In the Name of thy Lord,
Step along with me
For these steps of noble Thought
will lead all Good to thee,
Waris's knowkedge going get famous
Among Men, Bird and Genie

* Though I very much wished to put up recordings of Heer recitals at Alhamra Cultural Complex but I regret none was done at all. Instead I have  uploaded a Youtube video from a gathering in Faisalabad. If you like Heer in Bhairween, it's a good recital. Listen and you will like it.

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Wednesday, October 22, 2008

REACH TO THE TOP AND BEYOND

Abbotabad, Jinnah Garden in Early Spring



REACH TO THE TOP AND BEYOND



by Nayyar Hashmey



 Located at a distance of 116 km from Rawalpindi and 217 km from Peshawar, Abbotabad is a popular summer resort in the midst of spacious valleys surrounded by green hills on all sides. The city is noted for its verdant parks, gardens, a beautiful golf course and pine covered hills. Besides, it boasts some prestigious educational institutions of the country and serves as an important gateway to almost all-beautiful places in Pakistan.


The formidable Karakorams and the enchanting Himalayas are approached from Abbottabad. It is a junction from where one goes to places like Hunza, Gilgit, Skardu and Kohistan of the Karakoram Range. One can easily reach Swat, Swati Kohistan, Dir and Chitral of the Hindukush Range along with Naran, Saif-ul-Muluk, Shogran and Babusar Pass of the Himalayan Range. Neelum, Lipa and Jhelum Valley of beautiful Azad Kashmir are also connected through Abbottabad.

While other hill stations are deserted during winter, Abbotabad is blessed with visitors due to its bracing winter season. The place has a beautiful park, the Jinnah Garden, maintained by the local Cantonment Board. The splendid stretch of turf in the city promises plenty of room for sports like polo, football, hockey and golf. The Cantonment area is still very British. The European bungalows, the club, the church and cemetery are still there.

This is how the city looks nowadays but long time back, when I was doing my HSSC course; it had a different, even more beautiful and natural look than it has today. I was invited then by my elder brother to spend summer vacations in Abbotabad. (My brother in those days, was posted there as a tax officer of the Govt. of Pakistan).

Lady Garden, Abbotabad

Abbotabad as every one knows, was then and still is the second most important hill station in Pakistan. It was in those days, a clean, fragrant and beautiful town. There was absolutely no stink of diesel fumes, population was small and a rain shower even though a slight one, would dry clean the whole town, giving the small, beautiful Abbotabad a totally new look.
The city had on its brinks green blue hills dotted with poplar forests. Crisscrossing the hills were small streams and rivulets. Up on the hills and their slopes were fruit orchards laden with apples, pomegranates and wild berries of every kind. The place we were living was also on the edge of the city and was called Malikpura. (It exists even today but is a much congested and overcrowded locality now).

Another Pmoramic View of Abbotabad

Now we had a Gujjar lady who used to bring milk and poultry for us. We called her ‘Masi’. This milk lady or our Masi had a son who sometimes accompanied his mother. One day this son (I would call him a Masizad because I have forgotten his name) told me that up on the peak of the mountain and beyond, down hill there is a cave where Raja Rasaloo, the one time king of the area used to keep his gold and other treasures there. Now the fascination of a place which used to be laden with gold in time unknown coupled with the fact that I had never seen a cave yet, my fascination turned double fold and a strong urge arose to reach the summit of the mountain, descend the other side and sneak into the cave of a Raja who used to rule the valley in ancient days. My younger brother asked this ‘Masizad’ how high is the mountain and how much time will it take to reach there. Came the terse reply “Oh, not much, it’s just a two hours ascent and there you go”.

My bother and I were so impressed with an idea to scale a peak even though a not very high but then peak is a peak. Our enthusiasm also grew much as a few years back, late Edmund Hillary of New Zealand for the first time had conquered the world’s highest peak on Himalayas, the Mount Everest. If not the highest, yet we would be scaling a peak and that would be great adventure and fun.

Now having listened to the very tempting and luring adventure, we decided to go for the expedition next morning. With the feeling of a would be conqueror, from verandah of my house, I just looked at the great mountain in the west, which carries the city like a mother does its child in the lap, I visualized a wonderful, pleasant and comfortable journey upwards. And let it be known dear reader, neither myself nor my younger brother had the least idea of trekking, climbing or mountaineering, yet irrespective of the hazards on the way, we decided to scale the peak of mountain.

A View of Abbotabad's famous Ilyasi Mosque

Next day, we left at about 7.30 in the morning. While trekking upwards, we felt very pleasant. There was lush green vegetation everywhere; small rivulets came on our way. We happily waded through.. Water was cold and flow was rapid, yet we easily crossed over.

In the beginning our stamina was high so we did not feel the stress and exhaustion of moving upwards. However, at 8.30 am we asked our Masizad, how far it was to the top, to which he calmly replied, “Bhai, just near the top we are”. With these words, we again plucked our spirits and started moving upwards, although both me and my brother were gasping all the time and did not feel like going up any more. But with his words we started going and again gasping, moving upwards, gasping, moving with short breaks for rest and again moving. We asked the Masizad how far was it now to the top and he with his usual calm says” Bhai ab thora sa fasila reh gya hae” (brother, its just few steps now). With these morale boosting words, we again collected our spirits and started moving through but this time it was real hard task because not only was the height a big challenge to our stamina but also the lush green vegetation had turned into thorny bushes. To this malady came another misery in waiting. The grass on the mountain had every now and then shrubs which had a slimy juice in the leaves.
Winter Scene in Abbotabad

There were many leaves of this type lying on the ground like a creeper. This made us many a time to slip and fall down but we managed it some how. It was almost 9.30 now but the top was nowhere in the sight. We were almost nearing exhaustion both in spirits and physique. Again the morale boosting dosage from our Masizad “Bhai ab tau aap top per pohnch gayay ho”. (Brothers, you have reached the top almost). These words acted like a tonic but as the poet says “abhi ishq ke imtihan aur bhi haen” we had yet many tests, feats and miracle to perform. That was the price we had to pay for our love, adventure, and persistence to reach the top. Again we collected ourselves and started trekking upwards. We were very much exhausted and now the sun had brightened too much, we could not open our eyes and were terribly thirsty. Fortunately our masizad had with him water in the chhagal. Those of you, who do not know what a chhagal is, well! Chhagal is a canvas container for carrying water. Mostly soldiers used this in their exercises and actual battles. I do not know whether our army jawans still use it but in those days, it was a part of an armor by a soldier, a traveller or a climber in remote areas - whether desert or the mountain. As is the case and this we starkly observed near the top of Abbotabad mountain, that in such places, thirst is another reason to loose one’s life. But fortunately, we had water so we quenched the thirst to our heart.

After having refreshed ourselves, we started ascending once more. While taking water, we had taken a 15 minutes break and thus had revamped our energies. Our ascent began once again but now we were not so tired as before. Fluid intake had done an elixir’s job. And then we had also the excitement to reach the top. We trekked and we trekked almost for an hour or so and vow! we were on the top. It was an immense joy for me and my brother. We were on the top of a local mountain and yet our excitement was not less than a mountaineer who had reached Mount Everest.

A Cloud over Baloch Mess in Abbotabad

Mountain top was a very fresh and plain ground, lush green shrubbery and pine trees. There was wild fragrance in the air and it was a paradise like atmosphere. All our fatigue had gone in a nu.

Having stayed on top for a while, we started descending now and in about an hour’s time, we reached the cave of famed Raja Rasaloo. The cave was not a big one, it was quite muddy inside but in we went. It was as cool as an air-conditioned room. We selected a dry place, plain enough to squat easily. The feel of being inside a Raja’s cave’ even though there was absolutely nothing romantic about the cave, nor anything special, no wealth of the Raja, no gold and nothing else except a hollowed space in the mountain, yet it was a great feel, great fascination and fun for us. At that moment our Masizad asked us whether we had some hunger and both me and my younger brother said we were indeed. To this, he opened his “poatlee” and vow; he had parathas and potatoes made into bhujia done in mountain style by our good masi. There was a special type of achaar made of wild apples, berries and a special fruit which had the look of small black pepper seeds. It was a wonderful recipe, the most sumptuous treat I had ever had in my life especially after such a hectic hike to the mountain and then to the cave of a mythical Raja who used to hide his wealth in the cave. Well dinner with such a relishing food and off we go. We came out of the cave, started ascending once again. The journey back home was quite smooth as we had acquainted ourselves with the whole trek now and were now much experienced hikers.

Later I trekked to many places, the Saiful Malook lake in Kaghan, Parachinar in Kurram Valley, the Alps in Upper Austria and Salzburg, the Czech and Slovak highlands in Eastern Europe and it was a normal way of life with me but the one to mountain in Abbotabad was a tough, yet a very good learning experience to embark on mountain treks, no matter low or the high mountains.

Photo Credits: Joseph P.G. Sharaf, Ph.D. (A Pakistani Catholic and a Proud Balochi., an ardent believer in.... Kai Kai Baloch, Ghazi Ya Shaheed!).

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Thursday, October 16, 2008

Mystique of the Mystic Lakes – Lower Northern Mountains


Dodhipatsar Lake




MYSTIQUE OF THE MYSTIC LAKES - LOWER NORTHERN MOUNTAINS




by Abdul Razaq Vance




Beyond description, was my excitement when I saw four lakes scattered over a vast panoramic expanse—covered by green hills and majestic Nanga Parbat in the background. I was trekking down the Saral Gali pass and mother nature rewarded me for my strenuous effort. The magnificent panorama stretched 360 degrees.

Along with my three other journey mates I had spent a night at Lake Saiful Maluk, then started early in the morning for Jalkhad, a small stop over Naran-Chilas jeepable road. Earlier this road was much neglected and used to be in fairly poor condition, however, after the Kargil episode things started changing. Now FWO is constructing this road as a totally new driveway.


Saral Lake


From Jalkhad the road bifurcates. One part leads to Chilas and joins KKH while the other goes to Sharda and Muzzafarabad in Azad Kashmir. This part is popularly known as MNJ (Mansehra – Naran – Jalkhad) road. It runs along the Kunhar River up to Jalkhad and from there over the Nuri Nar Gali Pass to Sharda. Our fascinating journey started from Naran and far beyond the road seemed to wind through a dense pine jungle upto Bata Kundi – a small but beautifully placed valley. From Bata Kundi the track forks to one of the most popular tourist spots known as “Lalazar” and the main road continues towards Jalkhad.


Hanif, our jeep driver was an expert in maneuvering through serpentine roads which later had to drive across over steep heights of mountainous terrains. A happy chance that he belonged to the area where we were destined to go i.e. the North East. Being a local, all roads, bends and treks were on his finger tips so he confidently navigated each and every corner, the blind one as well as the clearly visible but highly dangerous ones too.

Porters and horses for our trekking journey at Jalkhad had already been arranged. These porters were mostly residents of the valleys from where we started our track. A few kilometers before the Nori Nar Gali Pass we left the jeep and started on foot. Ascent was gentle in the beginning but became a bit steep in the later hours. There was no clear trail.

Guided by our local escort, we walked through the dense green grass with multi colored flowers. It was evening now and sky lit up in warm colors of a splendid sunburst in the west. It was unanimously decided to pitch camps at the spot. A chilly wind blew across the landscape. It made quite tough for us to establish camp site, but our porters were expert at it. They erected tents within no time and started preparing meal for the night.

The night was dark but studded with countless stars of unimaginable size. I had never seen such a clear starry night. Despite all that beauty, it was a sleepless night because of high altitude, and high chill in the atmosphere. Our camping site was just below Saral Gali Pass which is more than 4000 meter high. Air was very thin and it was quite tough to breathe at night. Lush green grass also consumed oxygen in the air and made the situation worst.


Saral Valley


We began our ascent to the Saral Gali Pass early next day. Trek was now a bit more steep and rugged. But the Pass was not too far, and within one and half an hour we reached at the  top. We saw an un-named lake in the North West of the pass [also mentioned on the map in Pakistan Trekking Guide by Isobel Shaw]. We moved along the ridge and soon reached at a point from where we saw first glimpses of that deep blue un-named lake. It lay there, serene and beautiful, like a centuries old jewel shining among a vast landscape. It was absolutely a mystic land with deeply serene and enchanting solitude all around. I wished I could go into it to experience the magical solitude of the valley, just sit and meditate; a deep urge within my soul but then had to move ahead as we were to go a long way still further, still higher.

As we approached the descending slopes of Saral Gali Pass, it seemed we were standing in the midst of a Lost Paradise. Four lakes of sapphire blue water shimmered under the sun. As far as the eyes could see, a lush green carpet of wild foliage stretched all over the place. Herds of sheep and goats spotted the vast panoramic grandeur of the valley. A picturesque pastoral and magnificently inspirational landscape surrounded us. Some patches of snow from icy months still lay around the lakes. Multi colored stones were being reflected in the shallow crystal clear waters. Pink, yellow and blue flowers swayed in abundance in the swampy areas and vast pastures. Green hillocks descended towards the banks of these shining lakes with mighty Nanga Parbat looming in the distant background. Blue sky overhead dotted with white cloud patches as small sailing boats on a wild blue ocean.


A nameless lake in the valley
         
Spellbound, we witnessed the glory of Supreme Nature. Silently we prayed to Almighty. This gorgeous canvass carrying unforgettable strokes of color, motifs of a never ending beauty and message of peace and hope slowly assimilated in our worldly beings and purified our mortal existence. Porters moved ahead and broke the spell of Nature's magic. About half an hour from this heavenly abode, equally beautiful and marvelous – stretched another lake. It had a vast shallow shore richly endowed with scattered round pebbles and sand. In its tranquil waters relatively green and small clusters of cold water fish were swimming in an idyllic joy along the surface. What a day it was! What a place to sit around! Meditate! Soothe and relax! All of us were still and speechless, so beauteous and bountiful was the look of it– it was simply unbelievable.

Landscape became an embroidered piece of sheet with natural prints of multi colored flowers. Pink dominated everywhere. It was like living in a fairyland. But my trance broke and had a restless heart as I saw MNJ road and jeeps waiting for us. Beauty though is mostly a short lived and short loved affair but stays forever and ever in the eyes and hearts of those who love Nature.

             "The most beautiful emotion, man can express is the mystique. It’s the power of all truth, all art and science. But to science, emotion is a strange thing. Science can no longer feel the wonder, the awe and delight, for science, it is as good as dead.The highest wisdom and most radiant beauty is manifest in the knowledge about the centre of true mysticism. In that sense, I belong to the ranks of devoutly mystic men.
(Albert Einstein)
----
Photographs: All photos in this post have been taken on locations by the writer.


Disclaimer: The views expressed in this article are the sole responsibility of the author and do not necessarily reflect those of the ‘Wonders of Pakistan’. The contents of this article too are the sole responsibility of the author(s). WoP will not be responsible or liable for any inaccurate or incorrect statements contained in this post.



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Tuesday, October 14, 2008

VIEN VOIR - Africa Thinks, Africa Blinks

http://www.ziddu.com/download/2467932/09ViensVoir.wma.html
Vien Voir, A Song from Africa

By Umair Ghani

WOP Contributing Editor and Photographer Umair Ghani is nowadays in Africa. On a special photographic assignment to capture the soul of Africa through his lens, he met many African artists, painters and poets there.
In his first report which he filed for our readers, Umair sends me a poem written by African poet, Tiken Jah Fakoly. As I read this poem, I was stunned to observe the feelings, the pain, the anguish Jah feels for his land. Its same story every where. You just put Pakistan in place of Africa and every thing what Jah says, seems to portray a perfect picture – of us – of our country – our own sufferings at the hands of unscrupulous rulers. A fact that betells, common people all over the world think the same way.

Its now time for more people to people contacts. Interaction between different civilizations, people and countries. This will definitely help usher an era of understanding between different cultures. It’s incumbent for our generation to act now, when things like North South, East West Polarization, War on Terror, Uni-polar World have turned this beautiful earth into nightmares, not only for us but also for our coming generations.

Umair Ghani reports…

Tiken Jah Fakoly (1968–)a reggae singer from Côte d'Ivoire, was born into a family of griots and christened Doumbia Moussa Fakoly on June 23, 1968 in Odiené, north-western Côte d'Ivoire. He discovered reggae at an early age, assembling his first group, Djelys, in 1987. He became well-known at a regional level, but would soon ascend to national recognition.
Concerned by the social and political evolution of his country, it was not long before Tiken Jah was writing incisive works on the political environment in Côte d'Ivoire. One such work was on the death of Félix Houphouët-Boigny in 1993, which resulted in a surge of popularity amongst the nation's youth. In 1998, Fakoly made his first international appearance in Paris.
Tiken Jah Fakoly plays music "to wake up the consciences". His music speaks about many injustices done to the people of his country, and those over Africa. As such, many African listeners feel a deep affinity with his lyrics as Fakoly speaks for oppressed people. This connection has helped make Tiken Jah Fakoly a much-listened artist throughout the world.
Since the rise in political instability and xenophobia in Côte d'Ivoire in recent years, Tiken Jah has been living in exile, particularly in Bamako (capital of the neighboring country of Mali) where his concerts are well-attended. In December 2007, Fakoly was declared persona non grata in Senegal after criticizing President Abdoulaye Wade.
Viens Voir is a moving song by Tiken Jah Fakoly, a symbol of unity and strength for African people. Here in Africa, almost everyone is playing or singing his REVOLUTIONARY songs everyday. All taxi cars consistently blare out his voice, all cafes and bars and everyone on the streets is humming… Jah Fakoly is living in exile in Paris, after his severe criticism of Senegalese, South African, Ivory Coast and Congolesean puppet rulers in his previous albums. One of his songs goes like this...."give me arms Ohhhh people, so I can kill these criminals who are ruling over us for nothing."

Come See [Viens voir]
Come see, come see
Come see, come see
You who speak without knowing
Bamako, Abidjan ou Dakar Bamako, Dakar or Abidjan
Sierra leone, Namibie, ? come see
My Africa is not what makes you think
It is believed still faces the same
It is believed the same comments
It is believed the same stories
Listening to my Africa would be drought and famine
When we listen, my Africa would be fighting and minefields
Come see
Chorus
My Africa is not doing what you believe
Not a word about the history of this continent
On civilizations and wealth of yesteryear
No word on the meaning of values
People who t'accueillent hand on heart
Chorus
My Africa is not what makes you think
Africa is not doing what you believe
Come in our families
Come to our villages
You know what hospitality
The heat, smile, generosity
Come see those who have nothing
Look how they can give
And leave you richer
And you will not forget
Come see


You can listen to this song by clicking on the title which provides the link to audio player.

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A NEIGHBOURLY SHOW... OF PRIDE AND PREJUDICE



A bird, perched on one of the lamp posts, also watches the ceremony


by Umair Ghani



Pakistani flags on our side and the Indians’ on their side flutter above a densely barbed wire. This wire fades into long distance forming an immense curve along the border that lies on both sides of Wahga. Visitors to the show are watchfully escorted to concrete pavilions where flag-lowering ceremony is about to begin. Foreign visitors are allotted front rows on either side of the metalled road. The Iron gates separating the border are also painted in Pakistan, India flags. These gates are tightly closed and guarded. Crowd roars . . .

Gradually swelling, the crowd chants slogans and dances on high-pitched patriotic songs. Young men and women carrying national flags run up and down the road. Moderate spectators stand high on multi tiered pavilions and wave gestures of friendship and goodwill to the people on the other side of the fence. Atmosphere is charged with powerful expressions of nationalism as all wait for final parade to begin, a commanding expression of national pride and rivalry between the two countries.


Awareness and interaction between India and Pakistan helped hatred to cool down”, Abdul Samad, one member of the parade party tells me, “and with that, former style and gesticulation of the parade also changed. It used to be very aggressive a couple of years ago. Now both governments realize that antagonism must calm down.”

 The Indian sentiments in Mridula Kapur’s article “Sundown Madness” narrate a slightly hostile account of this magnificent activity from the other side of the border, “...the striking feature of the occasion was not the smart drill, but the attempt to outdo each other in showing their anger and contempt against each other. Soldiers raised their boots to show the soles to others across the border, chests were puffed out and touched others’ when they came face to face, and feet were stamped so hard that the road must require weekly repairs!” Quite aggressive, one agrees, but if viewed in wake of pulling crowds for entertainment and a mere display of nationalism, it may not seem as intimidating as Kapur portrays it. Mridula further comments, “Ordinary men and women were turned into ferocious warriors wanting to rush to the defense of their respective countries. Faces flushed, the people behaved as if in a tantric trance. Each shout of command, louder than the previous, further enhanced the atmosphere of hatred.”


But despite this entire huffing and puffing, and banging boots for display of assertive gestures, the flames of anger and contempt have mostly been extinguished. Only fumes of smoldering aggression and national pride whirl in the charged atmosphere, forcing people of India and Pakistan to celebrate freedom in their very own distinctive way. And this signifies the gist of this regular activity at the border, as Esben Agersnap, a Danish writer quotes,” what makes this ceremony so special is the highly ritualized aggression displayed by the soldiers of both sides - with huge crowds cheering them on both sides try to drown out the other side by playing loud patriotic pro-Pakistani or pro-Hindustani songs! Here the soldiers have just begun pulling down their respective flags.”




  

Lowering down flags at borders is a military routine, and why not in style when you have so much to show the world. Soldiers gracefully attired, in black and khaki, wear rich colored turbans above their heads and broad chests laden with silver and bronze medallions. Throwing ropes high in the air, saluting their respective flags, and as the sun goes down in the west; they wrap fluttering flags in grand manner. Holding in up next to their hearts, they bring it back to their posts and the ceremony comes to end.
 People on both sides rush to the iron gates and greet each other by blowing kisses in the air. Yet Mirdula Kapur remains skeptic about this daily ritual at the border, “Finally it was over. The crowd fell silent, drained of energy. What it left behind in the minds was sure to last a long time. What was the purpose of the entire proceeding? It bred nothing but intolerance between two neighbors who could surely do without more animosity. Artificial borders separate two peoples who have been brothers till recently and daily events like these are only helping those wanting the relations to remain sour.” 

Sweet or sour, the impression it leaves behind is sure to last long, with a flare of national pride and awareness that we must guard our freedom at every cost, while also showing respect to the sovereignty of our neighbor.
                                                                     
Photos: Courtesy Asif Ayaz


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