Monday, February 7, 2011

Love story 2011-Qadri and his beloved

Her beauty had charmed so many. Ever since a lover had built a monument for her by killing thousands of people , she was getting famous. Countless admirers had laid down their lives on her name.
Who does not like being loved? But for some reason she was feeling suffocated. They were all too possessive. Each one of them could kill others for her. ‘They kill for love, how can I except love from them?’
Just when she was pondering over this , she heard some gunshots. She rushed to the window. Her new admirer had gunned down someone for her sake. She was dumbfounded. All the blood shed on her name? So many lovers but not one of them ready to listen to her perception of love?
She started feeling uncomfortable. She needed fresh air. Right then, there was a knock on the door. It was her new admirer to tell her what accomplishment has he made in her devotion.

For the first time she hated love. Seeing his smile made her lose control. She started shouting:
‘We can not be together anymore! I thought love meant peace, for you it means blood.
For me, its acceptance and endurance. For you its intolerance.
I thought love makes you smile. You proved it can make someone die.
Loves makes us feel good about ourselves. You all make me loathe myself.’
She slammed the door on his face. She had refused to be possessed. He was dumbfounded.
 His triumph was now futile.

A page from the diary of a suicide bomber

Title: Brain-washed
Location: Pool of blood
Time: Last breath
I just realized how quickly perceptions can change .But contrary to what people say ( ‘it is never too late’) it WAS too late. Just few minutes ago I was proudly dying as a martyr. I was part of a ‘revolution’.
A revolution which was supposed to wipe out the evils from this society .
I was amazed how blind we are to the angle by which we can see things other than what we actually perceive.
In those last moments I saw blood.
I saw school children whose life ended with me..because of me.
I saw limbs, hands, legs everywhere.
I saw lifeless breadwinners. Their eyes asked me countless questions: ‘Who will support our family?’ , ‘Will they die of hunger?’
I had no answers!  I had devoted my life for Jihad. THIS ..was an assumption. Jihad could not possibly mean this.
Lives of so many innocent civilians would mean nothing to the merchants of this country. They will continue to bomb their own country. They would keep their mouth shut over continuous attacks on their soil. They would keep licking feet of world-powers even if they drive them to stone age.
This suicide attack had been a  grueling decision but now seemed nothing but futile.  Only if I had realized sooner !!

by Sahar Syed

A complete change?

Our sense of humor has surely changed. With so much seriousness around the humor has also got its fair share. The military bombing Taliban hideouts. Taliban bombing capital city.
Is that , excessive use of these grave terms made them less evil or for that matter , utterly meaning less? Have these blasts also ruined our humorousness?
Have we become so inhuman that we find it funny to scare the scared stiff masses by making hoax bomb calls?
Are we ruined completely? Will this ‘war on terror’ affect the mental health of generations to come too?
Would we ever recover completely?

by Sahar Syed

Are we different?

How proudly we declare ourselves to be different from others. But actually we are made up of all those, we differentiate ourselves from.
Emotions,  behavior ,  attitudes do not shape us. We are made up of people. People who have loved us, people we have loved and people we hate.  Those are all part of us. They leave their marks on us. A particular word or phrase used by someone, a small gesture, facial expressions like biting our lips while in deep thinking , winking in jolly moods or sitting with  a special posture. We adopt it consciously and most of the time unconsciously. It becomes our part.
They all form us; people who make us strong; who inspire us, who let us down, who make us laugh, who break us and tear us apart. Yes, they all mold us and yet we think we are different from all these people?
How an attitude, a joke, place or even a word remind us of someone we might have once met.
People change us . They become our part and they make us different!

by Sahar Syed


Why are we leading our lives in the mute-mode. We see each and everything, we are aware of whatever is happening around us. We see but do nothing about it. We can accept a well known notorious criminal of international fame  as our head. We can  accept constant intrusion on our homeland. We accept endless  killings on our soul by our own army. Do we truly accept all this? We do not! But seeing and not resisting means acceptance of our defeat .
 Do we need a revolution ? A revolution in which the masses will finally break their silence and cure their indifference? Will we ever grab our right to be heard .?

By sahar syed

The uncontrollable laughter

I remember the time vividly when everything was so uncontrolled ..the first and foremost….laughter!How I miss it today! unintentional and uncontrolled. Little things and  most of the time even  nothing a-bit-funny would trigger a hysterical and wild laugh .It was so difficult to stop laughing! I just couldn’t help myself in those situations.
It might be the age-factor. We know so little about the world. We have a world of our own at that age. Most of the fellows at schools were like that. Laughing over nothing. A school-teacher used to scold us and  said:’ Only insane people laugh without any reason. Are you mad?’ Were we? If we were...why I miss that madness!?!Today I can react to a funny situation with  just a smile. When I laugh there is something missing .I know what. I can control it anytime I want.
Although very satisfied  and happy with life  I miss that long durations of uncontrolled laughter that never seemed to end….how much we tried. It was so hard to talk during these bursts of laughter I miss it terribly!     

little desires… imperceptibly significant

How often we control our temptations?..let our desires die silently?? It is all a part of this game called life. Sometimes we have to let go ourselves of our selfish desires which revolve around us ..only around us.
Yes but only sometimes..not always!
To be ourselves dream..little desires have to be valued..once in a while it is important.
Recollecting from the treasure of memories something a friend once said:
Longings are part of our life but they are not always fulfilled. There are just so many of them! But at least we  can satisfy our little seemingly insignificant desires. Keep denying yourself  of each and every yearning ,and a time comes when no desires remain. At this point we stop living . 

by sahar syed

Summers of 69

There was almost no traffic on the roads. More than half of the country  was  glued to the television sets  in comfort of their homes. No. They were not watching a severe traffic jam caused by some long march of masses in black coats. They were waiting for ‘ Dhoop kinare’  a pure entertainment drama serial. After an arduous day the’ just what the doctor ordered’  kind of humorousness  was always calming.
It was some time long ago. So long that I  could have used the term ‘ once upon a time’  .
The technology has advanced so much so why not humor?
We have sure made a giant leap in this field. Now , humor is making hoax bomb calls to scare the already scared stiff masses. Humor is publicly expressing how badly we need to hug somebody for their gorgeousness. Humor is calling rescue teams, wasting efforts and time just out of good humor.
Everything has changed drastically. Humor shifted  from plays to politics. Dramas have been transformed into politics. (Saas plotting against bahu , bahu playing the role of a perfect witch). The only dramas left for us to watch is  politics in which professional criminals , beasts ,villains , witches and dacoits  play the roles of noble men and women.
Alas , humor has  lost all its charisma