You are currently browsing the daily archive for July 8th, 2008.
I told my little nephew that there was a time when there was no school and no work and people just hunted and played and rested. His eyes widened and he asked when did the change occur.
I heard of death of a woman I knew as a child. She was a grown up girl and created a great scandal by falling in love with a neighbor and faced ridicule from the whole community for being “bad”. The drop scene after months and months of humiliation was that the guy was got married by parents elsewhere and the girl wrote “the whole story ” in a magazine for the world to see. I was a boy then and enjoyed the whole scandal like everyone else and talked with great fun with friends about the “facts ” and the humiliation of the family and inquired about more “information”.
salutation to the lady!
There is a small village graveyard in one of the remote corners of Russia. Like almost all our graveyards, it has a melancholy look; the ditches surrounding it have long been overgrown; grey wooden crosses have fallen askew and rotted under their once painted gables; the gravestones are all out of position, just as if someone had pushed them from below; two or three bare trees hardly provide some meager shade; the sheep wander unchecked among the tombs . . . But among them is one grave untouched by human beings and not trampled on by any animal; only the birds perch on it and sing at daybreak. An iron railing surrounds it and two young fir trees have been planted there, one at each end; Evgeny Bazarov is buried in this tomb. Often from the near-by village two frail old people come to visit it–a husband and wife. Supporting one another, they walk with heavy steps; they go up to the iron railing, fall on their knees and weep long and bitterly, and gaze intently at the silent stone under which their son lies buried; they exchange a few words, wipe away the dust from the stone or tidy up some branches of a fir tree, then start to pray again and cannot tear themselves away from that place where they seem to be nearer to their son, to their memories of him . . . Can it be that their prayers and their tears are fruitless? Can it be that love, sacred devoted love, is not all powerful? Oh, no! However passionate, sinful or rebellious the heart hidden in the tomb, the flowers growing over it peep at us serenely with their innocent eyes; they tell us not only of eternal peace, of that great peace of “indifferent” nature; they tell us also of eternal reconciliation and of life without end.
” My name is ……, you had a kidney transplant ” these were the first words of a nurse I heard like coming from far far away in dark after the kidney transplant as I gained consciousness. I felt extremely guilty for my brother (who had donated me a kidney) and wanted to say let it all reverse, but I asked if my brother is doing well. And the nurse said the brother is okay and asking about you too and she said the brothers love one another. She asked if I had pain and I said yes near my stomach…and she said why is still there pain,,, give more morphine….and then I was again unconscious.
This was first 48 hours after kidney transplant, when I would close my eyes I would see a rain of fire or distorted frightening vivid faces all colored red and moving. I would try to feel strong , would collect my will and keep my eyes closed but it would all become so vivid and images would come so close I would open my eyes in horror. I could not sleep as I could not close my eyes. I wondered what it was. The doctors had stopped my sleeping pills I was used too ( that they may interfere with transplant medicines ) , was it immuno-supressing medicines, anesthesia or other medicines. But I became fine later, and now I sleep well without the sleeping pills.
A few days back I visited hospital for routine checkup for kidney transplant. My blood creatinine was 1.21 well within normal range.
We used to trek into mountains to laka ser (tallest mountain peak ) in Khyber Pass, and far away on way to it between the mountains is a small cemented pond gathering water from a small spring coming out of mountain side and on the nearby rock is a cement plaque on which is engraved ” Major Thompson and Lover Pond 1933 “.
Tirah and Tora Bora areas so known for taliban today were not always so. We have sweet memories. As there was no road to Tirah, and it was far far away ..days on foot, we listened to stories of it like beautiful green valleys with pristine splashing streams where apricots, nuts, pomegranates and grapes grew on tall mountains, and there were mountains with snow covered peaks even in summer. We were told as kids that fairies still live in this age in that far off land. Jamrud next to Peshawar was on route to Afghanistan and Europeans tourists in hundreds would pass from Afghanistan into Pakistan via the Khyber pass on road and even camp in tribal area on road side for night.
Let me put here something for my memories:
After 9/11 incident Pakistan supported USA in war against terror and provided logistics support and much else like selling its people to USA in name of terrorism some of who were released by USA as innocent though one such was Abdullah Masood the top leader of the Pak taliban today in waziristan. Well the point is that when the US forces overwhelmed Taliban in Afghanistan, our President+Commander in Chief + Chief of Army Staff in a television talk at night said something like “we did good to support USA, else USA would have bombed us like that and while Afghans can run and come here we would have had nowhere to run…”
Condaliza Rice says USA gave Pakistan US$11 billion for development of tribal areas. And just a few days ago G8 countries agreed on US$4 billion further. If you divide US11 billion dollar on one million tribesmen you get US$11000 each; a fortune in pak currency…one million people could have been rehabilitated and put in real business . Our President says it was paid for services by USA (to Pak Army). Its a shame, real mercenaries…. how can our army be paid for service ( and even that so badly performed ). Or do we mean by that our forces and land were sold to CIA and USA… what a shame. Terrorism was our duty to handle too. And who in the first place let this terrorism grow to such an extent. Well talking of the US AID fund of US$11 billion… someone come and see the first kilometer of broken road into tribal area from Peshawar into Jamrud. And as usual we have the most corrupt officials posted in tribal areas who can only communicate with tugs, smugglers and thieves……and its not because of politics as tribal areas are under direct control of the President.
