East Pakistani or Bangladeshi ???

My beloved husband belongs to Bangladesh. But strangely whenever I call him Bangladeshi he always corrected me....no...not Bangladeshi....I am East Pakistani.

He migrated to Pakistan without his parents when he was only 7 yeas old. He told me that the people in Bangladesh was so mad on the people who wished to go back to Pakistan that they brutally killed them.

So his parents tackle the situation in a way that they sent every child one by one to Pakistan to their relatives here and at the end the both my MotherinLaw and Fatherinlaw came to Pakistan

Its a long story that how my beloved husband had survived in such small age without his parents for almost 5 years. While his relatives were not very helpful or friendly with him.

hmmmm.....that's why he is a good cook....lol...

Few days ago I had to renew my passport for my visit abroad and this was the first time I was changing my status from single to married.

We have everything computerized now. Which somehow complicated few things and parallel way simplified too. Every thing went smooth until the last stage when I had a little chit chat with the Manager of NADRA and he asked me about my husband, sitting besides me though.

I told the manager about US...and then he asked....

Is your husband Bangladeshi????

I said...hmmm..no...he is East Pakistani.

the rude manager said......same thing.

And you told me that you get birth in Pakistan, Karachi? Yeah ?

I said...yes.

He said...ok bring me evidence.

I said.....what evidence.....baah?

Manager.....anything...which confirms that you belong to Pakistan since birth. Your birth certificate or your B form or your father's CNIC card.

I...as I did had those papers...readily presented him.

He smiled....and pass my form.

And then when we were about to leave his room...he said..sorry...we are not making passports of Bangladeshi here anymore.

He smiled.....but I couldn't smiled back.

I looked at my beloved husband's face....it was pale.

I felt pity....

Bangladeshi or East Pakistani ....when they were forced to leave their country...how come we expect them to bring some evidence that they belong to Pakistan?

When we has allowed them to enter into Pakistan then why not we are accepting them???

Why not we are giving them our identity...nationality....rights???

If this is the criteria than we all are still INDIAN....cause we migrated from India.

I am so so unhappy since then.....

To Bangladesh:

To lost East Pakistan....hmmm....

Retreating or Reviving !

Last night me and one of my friend was talking about banning of Minarets in Switzerland.

He told me that he didn't get offended by this banning...hmm..let see what Minaret remind us :

A minaret is a tower that adjoins a mosque. The original purpose of a minaret was to allow a muezzin to call people to prayer in that neighborhood.

Some minarets are still functional in that regard although, with the use of public address systems, loud speakers today are frequently attached to the minaret instead. Most mosques have only one minaret, many of which are placed in the direction of the qibla, which shows the direction in which Muslims pray (toward the city of Makkah).

However, some mosques may have more than one minaret. Minarets are also somewhat like church steeples in that people can tell from a distance which building is the mosque.

He confirmed his statement by telling me that the earliest mosques were built without minarets, hadiths relay that the Muslim community of Madina gave the call to prayer from the roof of the house of our beloved Prophet Muhammad (PBUH), which doubled as a place for prayer.

Around 80 years after Muhammad's death the first known minarets appeared.

He thinks that he don't need a MINARET to remind him of his being a Muslim.

1990, the Muslim population was 152,200, or 2.2% of the Switzerland’s resident population. A surprising development for those who know that in the early seventies, there were less than 20,000 Muslims living in Switzerland. Islam is now the second largest religion in Switzerland, after Christianity.

He got a valid point but being a second largest nation of a Switzerland, does this gives a positive sign if you are prohibited to exhibit your culture and tradition?

I know...people would say let it go. We don't need a minaret to be a Muslim we have so much enthusiasm for our religion and we will stick with it. But still when religion is a personal adoption, its human nature to be totally IN that adoption. Otherwise you will feel like fish out of water.

I mean how it would be like in Switzerland when it about adhan time and we cant hear it as it is banned? Isn't this will gives a little void feeling...? Like something is missing ??

But than I also discovered that there are only four total minaret exist in Switzerland even before it was banned publicly, it was not welcomed either.

According to the government, there are 130-160 Muslim cultural centres and prayer rooms in Switzerland, and four mosques with minarets:-
The Mahmud mosque in Zurich, inaugurated in 1963.-
The Petit-Saconnex mosque and Islamic cultural foundation in Geneva, opened in 1978.-
The Albanian Islamic cultural centre mosque in Winterthur, opened in 2004.-
The mosque of the Turkish cultural association in Wangen near Olten, inaugurated in 2009.

Why Pakistan felt the most about this banning is because in the inauguration ceremony of Mahmud mosque the high society turned out , including the former Pakistani foreign minister Zaffrullah Khan and mayor of Zurich Emil Landolt.

Which means that we are attached with Switzerland mosques and Muslims since than.

I don't know whether accepting the Switzerland's banning of Minaret is our retreating from culture and tradition or reviving that there were no minaret at the start of Islam so its not something on which ISLAM depends.

Calendar !

Hmmm…I have a calendar which serves me since January 2009 and it did fine. I mean being normal can also be a hard task.

It has separate pages for every month and the first week of the day starts from Sunday which also gives a positive sign that week is starting with an off-day. It has the list of national holidays. All very normal like a normal calendar one can have except for one.

Why and what struck me all the time when I looked at it was its pictures on the top of every page almost taking the 75 % of the whole area(I think you got it that you can’t avoid the picture).

I do like to see people (I mean the people I know at least)…I don’t hate normal people (the people I don’t know or don’t even care to know). But I hate this normal people photo calendar.

This calendar has a photo of some normal man or woman doing some ordinary work and even I sometimes hate to see at the picture or don’t like the way it is picturised I have to stick with the page as if once we are in specific month we have to stick with that hideous photo for whole 30 days.

As for December 2009 my normal calendar has a photo of a lady who is sweeping on the white marble floor.

I wonder what the photographer would had said to her when he was about to take her picture with this gesture or pose…..hmmm….may be something like…YOU WILL BE WATCHED BY THOUSAND OF PEOPLE FOR THE WHOLE ONE YEAR….BE HAPPY !

I know I know…sorry to all those of you out there who have a soft corner for these hard labour work people.

Believe me and please don’t forget to count me in. But it looks very selfish to give someone this kind of exposure just to fill your own pocket.

hmmm…I wonder all the time where this un-privileged…unlucky and under pressure lady would be ???? and that’s the case with other photos too that it gave me a sad and heart breaking thought whenever I looked at it.

Did any of these people have any idea that they would be memorized in a horrible photo calendar? Especially by ME ????

However, I always get this feeling that whenever guests walk into our sitting, they expect to find a lively, colourful and cheerful calendar may be some of them may be expecting to see some small cute baby’s calendar?

Or it could be a green woods/scenery calendar or it also could be a fruit calendar. I saw such calendar in my friend house in which they gave a fruit for every month with so many thoughtful comments to keep you healthy. I mean its normal that people usually hang cheerful or colourful or lively calenders in their houses.

But no…nope…nobelium….I had this hideous calendar and got stuck with it until end of the year.

If only I were a weaker person I would had set that calendar on fire by now but than I kept it on wall and kept my self tortured by the INSANE photography.

And now when I am soon going to replace this calendar with a new one I am kind a happy.

Only 15 more days to go…..hmmmm

By the way...its not funny to be stuck with one calendar whole year when you dont like it.

Barbarism or Freedom ?

Were you out of your mind talking on the mobile phone in the middle of Tariq Road....?

I asked my friend who was telling me about how easily and frankly two male snatched her mobile in the middle of Tariq Road with so many people around them and nobody had even raised a voice.

"It sounded like they are free to do such snatching" . She told me sarcastically.

hmmm.....I rather would say barbarically free to snatch.

Since we are a free country (Alhamdullilah) does this gives us the right to act barbarously towards others ?

What does freedom means : Freedom in is the right or ability to act according to ones will without being held up by the power of others.

And what about Barbarism : An idea, act or expression that in form or use offends against contemporary standards of good taste or acceptability.

It is usual to see people not following the traffic signals in Karachi. They often not follow the Que system in banks. They normally cheat you with the car parking in front of busy shopping plaza.

And what if someday I make a stand and ask them why not follow the rules and they would turn smiling and might say " Cause its a free country".

hmmm.....yes !

We are free to do any thing in this world its our legal right since our birth and at the same time we have freedom of making choices.

As Jean-Jacques Rousseau said, "Man is born free, but everywhere he is in chains". Why ?

Because of his choices and he chooses not be offended to anyone or to be a snatcher. If he chooses to be the first one he has to follow the rules of his states and mostly his heart's.

Its our heart which makes a CODE OF CONDUCT for our practical (which means when we are old enough to reason) lives. We make set of rules and one by one implement them on our lives and sometimes these rules are the inspiration from our ideals or our contemporary era. These rules do not directly collide with the state rules but they both usually are parallel.

I know due to the abrupt glamorised media our children and young generation has a list of luxury to attain while they don't have money or jobs.

But still we have our ideals and they had a fulfilled life even without these luxuries.

And even we don't have anyone in our mind we still have our heart to guide us towards wrong and right. We have our religion to help us becoming a better person.

After all these media and choices in our hands we are still barbarous in nature and making other peoples live miserable.

hmmm....

Love US (Usman ~ Sunaina)

There were times when I was in love...what kind of LOVE I am talking here ?

The kind of love I am talking here is not the love we have for our parents...sisters...brothers or our family's children...

The kind of love I am recalling right now is the love when we met someone....complete stranger and after spending few days with that one somehow start making things work more easily and more rapidly.

Life become easy and intersting. Time become soft and things work out and make sense.

ME...I think I tried everything in my life....even LOVE too...when I was in love...man....I was in love. I tasted it and find it sweet but bitter when people are not in favor. I dont think loving someone is bad if you do it with dignity and loyalty it can make love flourish and lively.

You can forget everything in love....not even your senses but your instincts and your self respect too but I think love worth it.

But as said, True love can blind you but at the same time if you let it, it can also open your eyes.

So than there were times when I made up my mind and forget all about it and went on. If you have courage to love, you have courage to suffer too.

Good thing about love is that you can easily skip it...stop it....reject it....deny it. So did I.

When I first met the below two children on my first day at my office, I can feel the love between them but that time both of the young couple was thinking about either to or not to make commitments.

hmm....you attrack people by the qualities you display. You keep them by the qualities you possess.

I even remember once Sunaina told me that there is nothing in between them and they naver can think about having an affair with each other. They are just friends....lol....

May be that time she didnt know how miracle works....how Allah granted HIS blessings.

I did pray about them...want them to have good ending of love. Though it makes me perplexed when they used to told me little about the resistance from their family and friends.

And as now they finaly got married hapily and all the offense and resistance washed away...hmmm..refreshed my confidence on love.

I conclude in my personal writtings that love may also have happy endings.

hmmm..I love this picture.

Joan of Arc (1414~1431)

This french national heroine and saint of Roman Catholic Church gained her renown during the Hundred Years' War with England.

Since then, she has been the subject of countless works of art and over 100 plays, the most famous of which are by J. C. Friedrich von Schiller (1801) and George Bernard Shaw (1923).

Joan was an illiterate but pious peasant girl who began having religious visions and hearing the voices of saints at age 13. When she was 17, these voices convinced her that her calling was to restore national unity to France by driving the English away and seeing that the dauphin (the eldest son of a king) Charles (1403-1416) was crowned king at Reims, where all French kings were crowned.

Although in southern France Charles was recognized as ruler, the English and the Burgundians (French citizens in favor of the British) controlled Paris and northern France, where Reims was located.

When Joan appeared in his court with her strange story, Charles, although broke and desperate, tested her. He let a noble sit on his throne, but Joan saw through the deception. After Joan told him what he asked from GOD when he prayed alone, Charles gave her a suit of armor and some troops and sent her to the besieged Orleans.

Once she got there, Joan led a series of skillful assaults that made the British flee in about a week. The English were so fear struck by her presence that an English proclamation was issued against those that deserted their cause "for fear of the mayde".

While she was wounded several times, Joan later claimed to have killed no one.

After recovering several occupied towns on the way to Reims, Joan stood by during the 1429 coronation of King Charles VII.

While trying to recapture Paris, she was taken prisoner by the Burgandians, who delivered her to the English for 16,000 francs.

After an unfair trial in Rouen in which she was pronounced a heretic (a religious disbeliever), Joan was burned alive at the stake before a huge crowd.

Her courageous behaviour there made many of them fear that they'd just seen a saint martyred.

In 1455, her Trial of Rehabilitation proclaimed her sentence void, and a statue of her was erected on the site on which she had died.

She was declared a saint by Pope Benedict XV in 1920, and the day of her death, May 30th, became her feast day.

NOTE :

Why is that we, people dont have space for those who turned differently from the whole comunity?

Why we, people can't just let them go and make a room besides us for them as well?

Why we, people always have to kill them or crush them ?

Is it just because we, people don't like different or someone who can think better than us ?

It seems that their presence somehow blocked all of us, peoples' breath and thats why we have to remove them from our lives.

hmmm......its all the same story since human origin. We make mistakes and kill inocents. After we realize we did it mistakenly we made a statue and settle that in the middle of our cities.

hmmm......

KESC - Vision and Values !

Did anyone of you had a close look at KESC (Karachi Electric Supply Company), new bill?

It includes a line saying, "Hum bijli churatay hain tabhi hamaray bachay school mein garmi say bay-haal hotay hain".

Which means, " We steel electricity that is why our children suffocate in school due to lack of it".

This line while embark the new rage in me at the same time gave me new hilarious joke to share and to talk about with whoever I know....hmm

What a customer service.....hmmm....KESC is accusing all its customer of steeling and at the same time giving all the thieves the reason of their suffering too.....wow....hmmm

Even though I usually not satisfied with the settlements of my electricity bill, they always take my breath away and make me speechless, I always paid the dues before deadline.

And I know so many who have the same practice.

And if some of us do have electricity by unfair means it does not gives KESC the right to call me thief .

Besides, why we have monthly METER READER, came to check and make a record of our meter reading? Is he blind? Cant he judge that who is steeling and who is not? I mean that's what I heard that mostly people do something with their Electricity meter to run slow so cant a professional can figure it out? Cant he see wrong dimensions of electric wire going from one house to other? Are these wrong connections are so easy to pass by and never get noticed?

But no....he will not because :

a) He don't care....and
b) Owner of that meter bribed him to keep his eyes and mouth close.

Basically, it is not KESC customer fault, it is KESC negligence and laxity and besides accepting their own laziness and failure of doing their job properly they include a line on the monthly bill.

Bravo !

It seems like a slap on my face that even though I am paying every month more than three thousand to KESC....just to have a calm night sleep.....I am a thief. And that's what their VISION AND VALUES are.....

hmmm....so now what I did this time...I include a line on that part of the bill which going to receive by KESC that says, " I don't steel electricity" .

hmmm......what a customer service.....baahh !

Makhfi - The hidden one !

The wine of my delight has lost its taste;

The earth of my whole life has turned to waste;

No wholesome grass grows there, now only weed;

My flaming spring of life has passed indeed.

Biographical Data :

Name : Atiya Begum Faizi
Period : 1876 - 1967
Biographical detail : She was an impressive figure in the socio-cultural field, of the Indian sub-continent during the early half of the 20th century.

Atiya went on a scholarship to London in 1906. She visited France, Italy, Germany, China, Japan and many other foreign countries. She complied a book on music that was published from London. Iqbal and Shibli were among her good friends or to some extent admirers.

Atiya was married to a painter called Faizi Rahimin. The couple migrated to Pakistan in 1947 at the invitation of Muhammad Ali Jinnah. She is the author of "Sangeet of India" and "Indian Music".

Atiya Begum was born at Istanbul and hailed from a respectable family of Bombay.

They were three sisters, Zohra, Nazli and Atiya. They were probably one of the foremost families who sent their daughters to UK for studies. Nazli Begum was married to H.H Nawab Sidi Sir Ahmad Khan Sidi Ibrahim Khan, Nawab of Janjira (1879-1922) and passed away in 1964.

hmm...whenever I started someone to read.....I read like I am in love with him/her.

Nowadays.....Iqbal is on my mind....even I have started to have him in my dreams...lol...

Mr Shaffique wrote extremly tremendous biography of Iqbal and first thing which attracts my attention was the freindly-lively lovely conversation or meetings of Iqbal and Atiya, who certainly was not the first woman to travel to Britain, but she certainly was one of the earliest to have wrote about her tour to Britain.

And as all the normal curious reader I started searching for Atiya Faizi and found it a little sad that despite of all her intellectual status, we had just gave her the remebrance of relationship with the poet-philospher Iqbal.

The letters of Iqbal to Atiya Faizi I read (17th July 1909), did not confirmed any colorful relationship between the two instead I think it was a letter to his(Iqbal) friend(Atiya) to whom he can speak out of his heart. Beacuse I personaly believe no one can speak about his/her unstable mental state to ones lover. Its human nature to behave as strong as one can be infront of his lover.

Iqbal was a poet and after all a poet can always use their own poetry while writing to some of his/her friends and can use it as a metaphore.

They might have exchanged some pet phrases to express their friendship, time they spent together and gratitude which Iqbal the same time include in his letters to different people too. They were not solely wrote for Atiya.

It is also evident that Atiya dislike Iqbal's failure to visit her in Janjira where she used to live with her sister for condolence of Atiya's mothers death. If this failure was only due to Iqbal's busy schedule or lack of money, Atiya was such a generous woman she would had forgave Iqbal but as it was not both of the above reasons she belived that Iqbal ignored her intentionaly.

There are so many other things elaborating the same about the both intellects of the same time.

However, as I always like to read about great women of world, I am happy that I found one more pearl from the history and Atiya Faizi would be an inspiring increase in my great women of world list.

I am trying to purchase her daily diary (roznamcha) which was translated and published by OUP-India, "From Colonial Bombay to Edwardian London". But unfortunately couldn't found it here in OUP - Pakistan.

hmmm.....there is always something very nice and worth reading about these people but I do also see that all those people who had made so many accomlishments in history never had an easy life. I dont know why to achieve something one must go through all these hardships and sometimes found oneself lost.

In 1912 Atiya got married to a painter called Samuel Fyzee Rahamin (1880-1964) who was an accomplished painter and a Jew by faith. He embraced Islam at Atiya Begum's insistence.

Fayzee Rahamin was at one time the art tutor of Mary of Teck, queen consort of George-V of the Great Britain.

The couple were invited to make Karachi their home by the Quaid-i-Azam. The couple sold their beautiful house, the Aiwan-i-Riffat, in Mumbai and moved to Karachi and purchased a house in Karachi and named it Aiwan I Riffat .

After moving to Karachi, the couple opened their doors to the local intellectuals and bequeathed the paintings of Fyzee Rahamin and other books and artifacts, their dearest possessions, to the citizens of Karachi.

Next door to the Arts Council are the grounds of the villa of Atiya Fyzee and Fyzee Rahamin.

Unfortunately the estate was neglected and their legacy disregarded as the the owners wished it to be converted into a Art museum but now The construction of Aiwan-e-Riffat- Fyzee Rahamin Art Gallery is under way or might have been completed.

After a span of some years, they were asked to leave their house as it was unauthorized (Strange enough?), helplessly she was made to leave Aiwan i Rifat at and took shelter in a hotel.

How long could they afford to live in a five star hotel , soon they were forced to dispose off some of her prized furniture and artifacts for nothing to the Junk Dealers and even had to borrow to live in Karachi where they were invited by the founder of the country.

I wonder if she had chosen to live in India and a Kala Mandir or Sangeet academy would have been offered , she would have created much more things to live long than what we have today.

She was well versed in Music and knew Ragas so well that one of best books on Music of India has been written by her.

The Music of India was first published in 1925. She took a lot of pain to establish the Bhatkhande College of Music in Delhi.

A large collection of her personal letters were lying unattended including letters by Maulana Abul Kalam Azad,
Maulana Shibli Nomani (the two-volume Makateeb-i-Shibli brought out by Darul Musanifeen contains no letter by Atiya),
Jigar Muradabadi,
Sarojni Naidu,
Maulana Shaukat Ali,
Maulana Mohammad Ali Jauhar
George Bernard Shaw
and Iqbal.

Atiya Begum Fyzee is no more but her life story is not finished as we have got such tantalizing stories to cherish.

Sourses :

Tashkili Daur by Khurrum Ali Shafique,
Writer Forum (http://dir.groups.yahoo.com/group/Writers_Forum/message/41173)

Note :

I gave this topic a name "Makhfi" which means hidden one taken by a princess poetess (Zebunissa - Daughter of Emperor Aurangzeb) whose tragic destiny is shrouded in mystery. In prime of her life, her father incarcerated her in the fortress prison of Salimgarh, where she languished for twenty years until her death.

I strongly believed that this is what we did with our history and heros. We discouraged their tremendous work and than sent all of their work to sentence where their work died and nobody knew when exactly or what exactly happened.

Beauty ?

I found her beautiful....whenever my mother wore SARI for occasions and forbid me to come close (I was the youngest and naughtiest one)...hmm...it could ruined her dress.

Always only that time I strived hard to reached her ears just to tell her that how beautiful she is looking.

Now after all these years when I reconcile my behaviours.....I question was it love or was she a real beauty? (For my mum...I think it was both...)

How we define beauty ?

Is it looks....? Is it....good figure ?

If it is only the looks which makes anything beautiful than what about the flowers.....poems...songs...lyrics....places...how we going to define their beauty?

Isn't all the human/nature/world beauty lies in the way we see them? Or how strongly we love them?

The dictionary says beauty as "The quality that gives pleasure to the mind or senses and is associated with such properties as harmony of form or color, excellence of artistry, truthfulness, and originality."

A pretty looking lady or good looking guy does not necessarily be beautiful.

Good looks are only skin-deep.

A good look may fade off like an attractive flower, which will wither sooner or later.

Nothing against good looks (believe me), but it is just one of the other million ingredients which make "Beauty."

A poem will be more beautiful if it has deeper meaning than just fancy words sans essence.

A human will be more beautiful if she/he has the right nature than just an attractive visage. Beauty comes from deep inside a person.

It is a reflection of ones character, their mind and thoughts.

Beauty lies in ones actions and deeds. Beauty is defined by ones kindness and their loving nature.

Real beauty is in being oneself and not in pretentiousness. Beauty is perennial.

There is one more way to look at beauty…

In the middle of the eighteenth century, the Scottish philosopher David Hume wrote:

'Beauty is no quality in things themselves: It exists merely in the mind, which contemplates them.'

Or think of the common saying" beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder".

The more you like a person from deep inside, the more beautiful you will find them.

Here is my deeper view…

I find everything beautiful around me....as I believed that ALLAH created all these things and since HE touched them.....they all are beautiful.

It is my love towards my MAKER which makes everything beautiful around me...hmmm....

Moved on !

With every passing day, you wonder...is this what it is to be in a global village?

We’re all connected, by mail or phone...We’re always there when someone needs us!

Yet, we’re not with each other!

The keyboard is a wonderful instrument to type, and the mouthpiece an excellent device to talk.

Yet the feel is missing, the touch is lost!

You keep reminiscing the days of the past.

It is not that you are in denial, it is just that you are in a state where there is something missing! Behind all the separation though, there still is hope!

The Hand that is painting the picture is too benevolent and mysterious for us to understand.

All we know is that the picture will be a beautiful one.

As I keep saying, the larger picture is always nice!

This is just a momentary divergence; the journey will continue, and roads will converge once again!

After all, the streams have to meet at the river!

The streams gush forward, the river is calm!

The lashing against the rocks will continue till we get to the river.

Patience will get us there, after which...there will be pure bliss.

Patriotic, Me !

Last night....we were late and by the time we left for our home it was almost quarter to three. Whole of Karachi was in deep sleep but the big empty and open roads of Karachi were shining and were like smiling at their travellers (which means US of course).

I always adore night...how ALLAH is marvelous in making of such a contrasting flavour during the 24 hours of single day???? I like night...its the best flavour of the day...Allah made it for us to find peace in it. It brings peace and calmness. But I always find sadness in it. Dark sadness....sadness which makes you slow...which can bring tears in your eyes and you don't even need to hide them as it is DARK all around you.

So my inner darkness...sadness was trying to mingle with the out side darkness. And I started enjoying it.

I said to my heart...let go your darkness...whatever is in you...let it out....

And here it comes.....

Few days ago....I read two great writers.

a) Khalid Hosseini - Afghanistan
b) Khalil Gibran - Lebanon.

The interesting thing I found in both of them was that even after living in other country than their own they both felt the strong sense of belonging to their country.

Both of them moved to US in their childhood, the age where changing places is a way of enjoyment. And children are very flexible and don't find it hard also to settle in the new place.

Even than growing in a country where they gain every luxury and good education. Though they got new nationality but they didn't loose their patriotism. They loose their nationality and had a new one but didn't lost the desire of belonging to their own nation.

Both of them are in their writings someway or somehow sang the beauty of their beloved country. You may find yourself seeing their beautiful country from their eyes. Even war is going on in their and shattered her (their countries) beauty. Even than they both find her beautiful and very proudly described her nights...days...cultures...seasons...fruits...innocent people...hmm

I don't want to be the one like them.....hmm ! (believe me it doesn't mean that I dare not to become a great writer)

hmm....they sang the ballads of their country....enchanted ballads and mind capturing songs....

But how sad that....that they have lost her....hmmm....

I don't want to be a person who suddenly become so possessive of a thing which already out of reach.

I don't want to be a person who is loyal but has no one to be faithful with.

I was thinking...about my own beloved....beautiful....country PAKISTAN. ohh....how I adore you my beloved one and how lovely you are in my eyes.

You are the only reason of my cherishing...aspirations and my own separate identity. I have a nationality because of you. I belong to you and it makes me so proud all the time.

I want to be patriotic towards you - my beloved PAKISTAN.

Allah forbid....if something happens to you - my beloved Pakistan....may be I will be the one who would die in the crash or may be somehow fly towards other country and will become like the above two. I will always sing the ballads but would always feel hollow inside. There would be no charm or any enchantment in them.

But I don't want to sing such hollow ballads of you. I want to be faithful and loyal to you while you are alive and I am living in you. I don't want to feel miserable when I talk about you.

So my dear...beloved Pakistan...I prayed and will keep praying for you...MAY ALLAH GIVES YOU LONG HAPPY LIFE. As you are not only important for me their will be more after me who would need to feel the same belonging towards you - beloved country...hmmm

Tomb of a stranger !

On the tomb of a stranger like me there is neither a lamp nor flowers. Since it is deserted, therefore there was no sound of nightingale or the Parvana (a small insect which burns its feathers on the flame of the lamp for the love of it).

It is unfortunate that her tomb was situated in a city which was along the route from Central Asia to India used by traders and invaders. After the Mughal Empire declined, the Sikhs also took advantage of the situation.

Her tomb was deprived of its outer covering of stones.Even the graves of her and daughter were ransacked. They thought they might find ornaments and other precious jewellery from the coffins. When they did not find any such articles they threw the bones away. And the Mausoleum became the abode of cows and goats.

The city Lahore....she adored and may be thats why she decided to have her own mausoleum there.

I gave my life and bought Lahore of equal value. In fact I bought another paradise in lieu of my life.

She, who possessed exquisite beauty, a fine taste for Persian literature, poetry and arts, a piercing intellect, a versatile temper, and sound common sense.

She exerted strong influence on the career and reign of her husband (Jahangir).

Even than she couldn't save herself from insult and disloyalty of her fellow people. She was intelligent enough to predict but couldn't predict her future after death. Even though from her prose on her tomb might someway make a point that she knew somewhere in her heart that it would happen buut couldn't get the exact time.

Because she was not the GOD here.....only HE can decide whether people would respect us even after our death or neglect us.

Sometimes I feel so so helpless and hand tied. I cant even decide my own birth my own death? It seems that since our first breath we are in the TOMB OF STRANGER. Where nothing belong to us and we dont belong there.

hmmm......

(Ohh....I had talked about Noor Jahan wife of Noor-ud-Din Jahangir, the third Mughal ruler).

What I learned ?

When something....anything....liked by your heart it means there is something good in it. Your heart is better judge then your mind/brain.

Cause brain/mind always works with information...experiment...and finally knowledge....or...experience. It never accepts the theory. It always tries to fix every picture with set of reason. It can't just work on imaginations/illusions. It always want you to give examples so that it can reason your experience.

Also...brain can't wait. It just want you to give the reason and do not allow to wait for the correct time.

It don't accept the fate.

Always tries to make people look into the back to see what might cause this or that. While we can easily get away with our failures or misfortunate events by just exclaiming that, " OK...it was my fate to be a failure and I want to be a good failure because it does not matter what you do...the matter is how you do it. So even failure should respect their failure and try their best to be a good failure. "

And just because haunting of our mind we die-try (well this word is invented by me to tell people when they don't believe that how much I tried but couldn't...lol) to find the cause of our failure and than start blaming other people when we cant find any reason. And become exhausted.

I remember when I started reading Ibn-e-Safi (Imran ) was my favourite...while Capt Faridi was OK but he was too too accountant type of person (you know one plus one equals to two). Anyways...I always love to read Ibn-e-Safi....WHY???

Because all of his stories has a hero who never dies. That hero (Imran/Capt Faridi) was our HOPE....hope of good future. So whenever I finished any of the story I felt good inside. Cause I had HOPE to buy another book in which I will find same Imran again.

That time I was a little girl...my mind was on developing stage and I was free....I have not seen the dark side of life. I was in the lovable family. And I was reading all those stories in which I have a never dying hope.

I saw few of the Waheed Murad's movies but whenever I did I felt good inside. Because he also have a hero always with a good character and filled with love not for only selected people but for all of the humanity. Those movies also un-noticeably developed that HOPE phenomena inside me.

I, when entered my practical life....I saw partiality...I bear dirty politics....I over estimated human and under estimated love. Which ruined best years of my life but even though when I was broken I had a hope. Hope of time that it would pass and I will gain myself again.

What I meant by "I felt good inside" is by liking of my heart. Those things were liked by my heart.

And until yesterday in Iqbal discussion session, I was unable to look for a reason of my heart liking.

Because I was afraid of my heart and mind to think on one subject. I do like Imran but if I talk to my heart it would say....good....Imran is good. But my mind would say...it is foolish...no human can save himself from machine gun bullets like Imran did. No one in this world have this authority like Imran has...and so many other reasons. Cause mind always works on reason.

So I used to afraid of taking out my liking for anything if it is liked by heart. But now I can....because heart always likes hope....happy ending....happily live ever after and so on.

I can say this to my mind that because THIS got a HOPE in it....I gonna like it.

When I saw WM movie clip with everyone in the session and than we start exploring those things...I said to my self that just because I was afraid of giving the reasons to my mind I just ignore the whole idea or moral of the movie. What I did was just watch the movie while our mind was sleeping. That's why I couldn't actually see it. I just watch it. And over looked every essence of the moral.

So now I learned that whatever....whenever...wherever....my heart likes I should wake up my mind to work on it so that I can see the reasons of my liking.

hmmm....also I learned that I should get rid of all the HABIB JALIB books because they are too much onto my husband. (Believe me I am not jealous).

And....Shafique Sahib is a very good SALEMAN....hmm...he when was giving me his book told me that I am getting it on sale rate as if I purchase it from market I would've had to pay more.

hmm....very very interesting and informative session.

I.Robot !

The night is dark, raindrops falling...pitt....patteer...on the neighbour's flat balcony steel shed.

And suddenly at 5:30 am a shrill sound comes out making my air conditioners fan sound lesser.

Five beeps one after other with a slight gap of two or three seconds. The shrill sound will go on until my hand reaches out for the sound making device.

Now its a big decission waiting for me....which button should I press ????

One says...SNOOZE....other one was....STOP.

I think this is the meanest and crulest device I ever had to buy to keep myself on time.

It is just few hours ago I set the alarm how time can be so ruthless?

I press snooze....even five minutes more looks like the best luxury right now.

But what had happened if I presses the stop....even though if I pressed the STOP, I actually had to start.

After two hours of continuos preparation of my husbands departure for his job and me, I finally was ready to wait for my van. It comes on time as usuall carrying few nice and neat looking people waiting to become robot.

Yeah...sure few of them might think that they are humans but I know they are not. They are ROBOTS in disguise.

And all of those robots including me have a definite set of rules....

1. A robot may not injure a human being or allow a human being to come to harm.

2. A robot must obey orders given to it by human beings except where such orders would not match with the First Law.

3. A robot must protect its own existence as long as such protection does not match the First or Second Law.

When me, Robot reach my work place I always recharge my battery, by taking tea...or little gossip...or little chat with other robots.

Fortunately, the device which makes me robot in the morning change me into human again after 5:00 pm.

I become again a normal human who have a family, old mother to take care and let husband take care of me.

I, robot quite forget what had happened to me while I was human. And human always keeps memory of what had happened even when I was robot.

Suddenly or fortunately, its friday....its time for me to become human for two continuos days.

hmmmm.....

Broken Dreams !

(HE = my MAKER, ALLAH)

I wrote this a few weeks after everything I thought I cared for in my life shattered, and I found myself alone, starting over, and hurting so much I didn't know how to go on.

I wrote it by faith then, for I could not see the beauty of new dreams, or hope of joy returned, or that the ache in my heart would ever lessen and the sting fade, but then, I chose to sing, to hold on, because HE promised that sorrow would turn to joy...someday.

Today, I look back, and it was a long and dark journey, and I may always carry a few little scars in my heart, but HE did not fail.

HE brought more joy, more beauty, more than I ever could have hoped for and I see HIS hand.It wasn't HIS plan that I have a broken heart, but HE knew what was best in the end.

HE gave me strength to let go, to face the shatteredness that was a result of my own choice, yes, but worked HIS plan over the mistakes, and made something beautiful from what seemed like brokenness.

And it gives me hope to keep trusting the outworking of HIS will in my life. It may take time, but I'll keep singing, keep trusting, keep believing that HIS way is perfect.

Always perfect.

To ALLAH be all glory.



I saw my dearest dreams crumble, broken into a thousand pieces, and fall to the ground. They were worthless that way, and with trembling heart, I bent to try to gather the pieces back up and make sense of the emptiness that closed in around me.

For one small moment, I thought I was alone in the world. No one knew that what I lived for, what I had hoped for so long would be a reality, was now but a pile of rubbish.

And perhaps... no one would care....hmmmm

But my tears, falling to the ground, unseen by any human eye, were not unseen by HIM.

HE knew my grief, HE saw my broken dreams, and HE cared.

The dreams that each of us holds dear, the fragile things that our hearts long for, that we wait for all our lives, do shatter sometimes.

All of us have tasted of the bitter sorrow that clutches the heart as those beautiful things we thought were within our reach tumbled to the ground, and all that was left was but a pile of broken pieces.

This is no uncommon fate. (hmm...dil ko bhalanay k leye Ghalib....)

Yet, there has not one thing, one tiniest of disappointments pained our hearts, but that HIS watchful eye has taken it in. HE has put all of our tears into HIS bottle. HE knows. HE cares.

Are you tired of chasing pretty rainbows?

Are you tired of spinning round and round?

Wrap up all those shattered dreams of your life.

When I first looked up from my dreams, and with painful heart looked at the road ahead of me, I did not think I could go on.

I could not see HIM that day. It was all too dark,

but HE was right by my side...hmm... I couldn't feel HIM there, but HE was holding me in HIS arms.

I did not know if I could give up my broken dreams, so much a part of me they seemed.

But HE was waiting to take them, and even to give me the courage strength to let go.

But ALLAH is no arbitrary breaker of dreams. HE sees each one of our hearts and desires. HE knows our dreams better than we do, and HE wants to give us the very best, much better than what we thought we wanted most of all.

We cannot see HIS plan, but if we can learn to understand HIS purpose in pain, we have gained a blessing that is indeed rare.In the breaking of our dreams, HE wants to take us yet another step higher.

HE desires for us to trust HIM with our hearts, but we hold on so tightly.

We are afraid to let go, and let HIM have what is dearest and nearest us. And HE knows that unless we are broken first, we may never realize we need to let go.

And HE is able to turn sorrow into joy.When we give HIM our dreams, HE doesn't just take away the broken pieces.

Ahh....no. HE does much more than that.When at last, I let go of the pieces I was holding on to so tightly, when I finally gave HIM my dreams, my hope, my everything, HE gathered them all up, and began to rebuild them into something more beautiful than I could ever imagine.

It is not the promise of an easy pathway, nor of constant 'sunshine' that will bring us the contentment and happiness to wait on HIM to fulfill our dreams.

It is the choice that we make, to see beyond the pain, and to trust HIS purpose.

HE has promised us strength to sing, even during the darkest moments, and this is the key to joy that is stronger, even than all our shattered dreams.I do not know if the dreams I gave to ALLAH not long ago will ever be mine again.

I cannot see ahead to know what the future holds. There are still tears in my eyes, and yet I can sing. I choose to sing, and to go on my journey, trusting that in HIS perfect time, my dreams- beyond my highest of expectations- will come true, someday.

So dear myself, HE will build your dreams too, if you'll let HIM.

To ALLAH be all glory.

Sufism !

"When I come to Love, I am ashamed of allthat I have ever said about Love."-- Rumi

Mansur uttered "Ana'l-Haqq" - I am the truth - and was condemned to death for it .

It was his intolerably heretical claim to have achieved unity with the Devine that made him the only Sufi martyr in history.

After the long departure, finaly with the help of an old man, Layla and Majnun faced each other.

The old man tugged on her arm, but Layla could not move.

"Noble Sir", she pleaded, "this far but no farther. Even now I am like a burning candle; one step closer to the fire and I shall be consumed completely. "

Majnun stumbled forward and suddenly under the dome of heaven, Layla and Majnun faced eachother.

The two lovers stared at one another, drunk with the wine of love. Yet though they were now close enough to touch, they knew that such wine could be tested only in paradise. A breath, a sigh, a stifled cry, and Majnun turned and run from the groove back into the desert, vanishing like a shadow into the night.

Orphaned at a young age, Rabia(Rabia of Basra 717 - 801) became a slave and the sexual property of her master. Yet, she longed throughtout her life to experience mystical union with God.

It was during one of these nightly meditations that her master first noticed a blinding nimbus of light shinning above her head, illuminating the entire house he immediately set Rabia free, allowing her to go into the desert to pursue the Way.

Rabia's poetry betrays a profoundly intimate encounter with God :

You are my breath,

My hope,

My companion,

My craving,

My abundant wealth.

Without You - my life, my LOVE -

I would never have wondered across these endless countries.....

I look everywhere for Your love -

Then I am suddenly filled with it.

O Captain of my Heart,

Radiant Eye of Yearning in my breast,

I will never be free from YOU

As long as I live.

Be satisfied with me, Love,

And I am satisfied.

And now....its Laal Shahbaaz Qalander....in his mystic DHAMAAL. His eyes are closed seems like he dont know where he is and what his purpose in this world. He who knows only that there is HIS GOD somewhere and he can clearly see HIM.... He said once about his Tasawwuf that " It begins with the thought of GOD / ALLAH and then there is no end of it"

Apnay dost key muhabbat mein

Ruqs kanna'n hon mein aagh per

Jhoomta hon kabhi khaakh mein

Loot-ta hon or kabhi kantoo'n per

Ghoomta hon mein muhabbat mein

Badnaam ho gaya hon mein tum say

Iltaja kerta hon k tum mere pass

Aao ! Mein badnaami say nahi darta orr

Bazaaro'n mein nachnay say nahi darta

Poetry by Moulana Rumi : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zTHRl_GBeGA

Tina Petrova about Sufism : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GJDeQRLhar4

Defination : The meaning of Sufism is the selfless expiriencing of the truth.

Me just a drop of water has mixed myself into the sea and now I have lost myself. I dont know which way I have to turn....whether downwards or upwards lie my destiny.

Do I actually belong here ?????? hmmm....

(Few incidents were taking from : No god but God by Reza Aslan)

May I romantic with you???

I feel romantic whenever I see Rajesh Khanna in an outdated outfit but extremely smart lip singing a song, "Yeah shaam mastani madhosh keye jaye" with whistling intervals and strikingly beautiful heroin in his sight and with beautiful scenery around... ohh...gosh...I feel romantic.

Or when I listen " Jiss galli mein tera ghar na ho sajna uss galli say hamain tu guzarna nahi"(Mukesh) , or when I am listening to, " Tum sang naina lagay manay nahi jee a ra" (Rubina Badar) , sometimes I suddenly fell into the nausea or the trance or charisma of ," Woh Ishq jo hum say rooth gaya" (Farida Khanum). I couldnt help falling in the background of these songs or the poets who wrote them or the people who sung these songs or ghazal.

No offense, "baat tu sach hay per baat hay ruswayee key", but I couldn't find any single person around me worth these lyrics or music. I want to picture my husband or my friends or my lover in these songs but couldn't. There is something more in these songs..more than our worldly love...more than our narrow desires.

I wonder what was going on at that time with the poet who wrote the lyrics or with the singer who sung them...who...they were picturing in their heart? Were their picture is of flesh and blood???

"Jiss chaman mein tere pag mein kantay chubhay....uss chaman say hamain phool chunna nahi", or, " tum ko manao kaisay manay nahi jee a raa".... I only feel this love or loyalty or desire or falling only towards my MAKER - Allah.

Only HE - ALLAH worth these lyrics, no flesh can have such striking personality that our one glimpse on him/her explode such feelings of being romantic inside us.

Now, I don't want to be the offensive one, who think of Allah while listening to music as in Islam music is forbided. Nor I can say this to ALLAH that I want to be romantic with YOU.

But, this is how it is with me....I cant help it...whenever I see flowers blooming...clear sky or dense with black clouds.... chuckle of a little baby... moon...stars...sun... morning fresh air... morning itself or whenever I hear music I picture HIM and starts feeling romantic.

I mean what a personality HE has.... so much variety... so many levels... so many ways of sending us the hints.... I cant help but feel romantic with YOU...hmmm.

Am I Feminist ?

I still remember my third day after our valima reception, I packed my little suitcase and ready to go to my mum as all the Pakistani traditional bride had to spent few days with her groom in her family house and when my husdand saw me carrying the little suuitcase he asked, " Can I carry that for you? "

To me it sounds more like, “Prithee, fair maiden! Allow me to relieve thee of thy luggage.” To which I responded (in my heart ofcourse), “What century are you from?” And I felt awkward on his innocent attention towards me and responded, "No its ok....I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you" ...baahh... the very moment romance died...lol.

After only few months we fought and first thing he said after my thousands of complains that I still didnt actually let him in my live. No it is not it....just because I never asked him to open the door for me....or always took the liberty to submit the utility bills myself...or never bother him to fetch me from my mums house (always come back myself)... or never get sick and asked him to nurse me.... never asked him to carry my bag...did grocery myself.... I thought I am giving him a favour but he was taking it differently... He thinks it hurt my feminism to take help from him.

It was not because I am a feminist.... and it hurt my feminism if I let my husband help me... it is because my parent brought me up like this.... "I am tired" or " I cant do this" was not very common in my mums vocabulary of sentences.

I dont know what FEMINISM means at the first place though I read its meaning in dictionary which says : Advocacy of equal rights for women.

I do belive that women should fight for their proper place in this world. They are human beings and have desire to play important role in their family life or want to achieve thier career and be satisfied.

Erin Pizzey (one of Feminism's pioneers and founder of the UL's first refuge for victums of domestic violence) came to startling conclusion : Women should stay at home and look after the children while men go out to work" .

Cosidering the idea of women having it all - a family and a career - is more like a myth to me.

And as I does not possesses any supernatural powers, I just want to be a woman who need help.

I dont want to imprisoned by my own freedom or vanity and become exhausted end up taking care of everything in and out of my house.

So definetly.... I am not feminist. hmmm.....

Daughter of East !

I just completed this book and happy that I picked this up from the local book store as since I started it capture all my attention.

Though my husband was opposing me as he thinks that I am not a political person at all.

Yes I am not...its true...but I was not only looking forward to read a politician biography but also she was a brave woman who servive the difficulties of terror, exile and prison as any man and dramatically thorugh her pateince brought the change around her and her country.

Beautiful and charismatic, Benazir Bhutto is not only the first woman to lead a post-colonial Muslim state, she acheived a status approachin that of a royal princess - both in her native Pakistan and around the world.

Bhutto's life has been full of drama. The daughter of one of the Pakistan's most popular leaders - Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto, who was hanged families. Following an international education at Harvard and Oxford she became politicised after her father's execution and was first elected Prime Minister in 1988 - both the youngest person and the first woman to lead the government of a Muslim state.

And now I will share few of the paragraphs from her book which really inspired me and made me her fan though late.

I didnt choose this life; it chose me.

Born in Pakistan, my life mirrors its turbulence, its tragedies and its triumphs.

Once again Pakistan is in the international spotlight. Terrorists who use the name of Islam threaten its stability. The democratic forces believe terrorism can be eliminated by promoting the principles of freedom.

Pakistan is no ordinary country. And mine has been no ordinary life. Despite the difficulties and sorrows, however, I feel blessed. I feel blessed that I could break the bastions of tradition by becoming Islam's first elected woman Prime Minister. It proved that a Muslim woman could be accepted as a leader by both men and women. I am grateful to the people of Pakistan for honouring me.

I am a woman proud of my cultural and religious heritage. I feel a special personal obligation to contrast the true Islam - the religion of tolerance and pluralism. I do believe my career has been more challenging because I am a woman. Clearly its not easy for women in modern society, no matter where we live. We still have to go the extra mile to prove that we are equal to men. We have to work longer hours and make more sacrifices. And we must emotionally protect ourselves from unfair, often vicious attacks made on us via the male members of our family. Sadly many still believe that men control the women in their lives and by pressuring the man they will get him to pressure the woman.

Neverthless, we must be prepared not to complain about the double standards, but to overcome them. We must be prepared to do so even if it means working twice as hard and twice as long as a man.

I am honoured and I am blessed. God willing, I will return to my home land. This is my destiny. And as John F. Kennedy once said, ' I do not shrink from that responsibility, I welcome it.'

BENAZIR BHUTTO

London

April, 2007

To Allah be all glory.

Shed your calories !

My beloved husband.....

This is time we should start some exercise..... we are over 30 years now and I don't want to end up with heart diseases by the time we reach our fourties.

hmm.... I said to him.....

He : ohhh..... what exercise...what is it? What did you say?? Sorry ???

I: Walking....we will start with walking and then we will start doing some other kind of exercises also.....

So... do you know any park with jogging tracks?

He : ohhh....you are serious...yeah I do !

Its a park behind that big departmental store where you always wanted to go for shopping but I never took you.... (hmm....he reminds me to change my mind about walking and give me reason to quarrel).

I : (as don't want to spoil the healthy conversation though took me 10 seconds to stay calm and get rid of his wicked way of not letting me shop in that departmental store)

Ok...we are going today evening as I am free and my mother Allah ka shukar is feeling well and I would love to see little children playing around us while we walk....

He : less enthusiastically.....OKAY.

When we reach the park it was almost 4:50 pm. Good timing. Perfect for an evening walk. I said to my self and take a deep breath tried to inhale every fragrance I can feel of flowers...grass and wet soil. It was lovely indeed.

It was a small park. At one side on wet soil there were swings and slippers for children to amuse. And at the other side was benches. The jogging track was in a circle covering whole park and in the middle was ground with grass and flowers pots. So if I walk on the jogging circle I can see everyone or everything in the park while covering whole circle.

And then when I was wearing my joggers I saw my beloved husband wearing slippers.

I: Why? What not you wear your shoes?

He : ohhh...why...would I need my shoes here? asked he innocently.

I: Well we are not here to sit and have fun....we are here to walk...remember? Anyways...suit yourself... I said a little irritably and move ahead.

He : start following me.....with low shoulders....

After a little walk we come across the place where there were children playing cricket. One of them has made a huge shot and ball came towards us....husband catch it expertly and start smiling....he stopped and I too with with....

I: Ok...let go the ball...you don't want to take it home? Do you?

He: No no...I was just remembering my days of childhood...how I used to play cricket all day and never get tired of it. And the way I used to make shots and my bating and my bowling and my....

I: Ohhh...please we can talk about it with walking as well....why you had to stop your feet's when you move your tongue?

He: whats the hurry....

A boy came and took the ball from him....of course they were tired of waiting him to threw it back too.

After a small walk again we came across the children who were having fun in sewing...and few of them were in a line to wait for their turn....he suddenly stoped again....

I: Now what ?

He : I should tell the children to stay a little away from that swing its not safe...they all are standing so near.

I : hmmm.....(tried to yell at the children)....hey children....shoo...shoo...shoo...away from swing....

He: Not like that silly....they are children not cows....or goats....

We again stoped and he went and made another line of all of them with a little more distance from swing.

I : I should have not come with you. Next time I will come alone. Cant we walk continuously? Cant you just concentrate on your speed and your feet...feel the pain on your feet when carries that much load on them....? Poor feet !

He : You are so cruel... I am a lively person and I will definitely take a notice of anything wrong around me and will make a noise about it too.....

I : yeah...whatever....

We walked a little more than he stopped again.....

He : Oh....look at that ?

I : in my own thoughts went a little ahead of him but stopped hearing his....noise.... What is wrong now?

And while we were standing with a little gap between....and he has bend on the floor to see or observe something and at the same time I saw few ladies who had also come for walk coming towards us following the track....

I : hich...hiccch....stand up....

He : by the time he stand up ladies were near us.... OH HELLO ! (he said broad smilingly).

Ladies : hye...haye....hello to you too.....

He : step behind to give them space to go through the track.... and then picked something from track and come back to me.....

I : What was that ?

He : Can you believe it...it is very low....someone throw a bone on the middle of the jogging track?

I: Ohh... I am sorry...was it your BONE ?

He : No no...I think someone has eating something and throw the bone on the track and people might get hurt because it is a very sharp...pointed bone.

I : hmm...can we please continue....?

He : Ohh yes...

We finally made our first round....I was so glad....

I : Isn't it lovely....we complete our first round of the park? Should we continue?

He : ohh yes yes...ohh did you see that?

I: What is it now ?

He : ahh...French Fries....you love them don't you? Shall I buy a pack for you?

I : hmm....after little consideration....okay....

And soon we had our 20 rupees pack of fried tomatoes and were sitting on the grass....eating with pleasure.

I : Isn't it funny that we came here to shed our calories but end up taking more of it ?

He : (with awkward smile) ohh yeah yeah....

I : Thanks to you my beloved husband.