The sun will still rise!!

His time was quickly running out. He had to reach the seaside before dawn. He increased his pace and then decided to run to get there in time. He had always been fascinated by dawn, by the rising sun, by the first ray of sunlight. The ray which wipes away all darkness and which symbolizes hope. Despite all his attraction for dawn and sunrise, he had never been so regular in coming here. But two weeks back, everything had changed.

Two weeks back, he had realised that his life had betrayed him. And now, he wanted to or rather hoped to see all kinds of dawns that he would have seen if his life had not done this to him. He had always been the optimistic type, seeing all the bright sides of life.
But now, it was different.
This time, he himself was the victim.
Victim of betrayal...........

He was there now. Watching the waves splashing the beach. It was dark like his future prospects.
And then, the sun appeared on the horizon, wiping away all the darkness from the surroundings. But inside him, it was still pitch black.
No hope, no light, no dawn!!!

All his life, it had been drilled in his mind that life is very uncertain. That man is never sure even of his very next breath. And he hated words like unsure, uncertainty etc.

But now.....

Now he thought 'uncertainty' was a blessing. He knew what a curse it was to be sure when your life is going to end, to be able to count your remaining breaths, remaining days, remaining weeks or even years. But he knew that no years were left for him. Only six months.....
Or 24 weeks or 168 days....
Ahhh! even if he said 4032 hours....
That was not enough.
His plans were for a much longer life. For him, his life has just started.
His dream flight had just taken off and...
And some jerk in a white coat had given him a piece of paper telling him there was no fuel left for the journey.
He was no smoker, no drug addict. He had always taken good care of himself. But the GOOD LORD had somehow found a fault with him.........
So, his time was running out.

The sun was dominating now. The day was bright and sunny. He decided to go back home.

Home..........
Where all the important people of his life lived. His mom, dad, sisters, brother. People who were discussing his forth-coming marriage - two months later.
So far, he had been unable to muster enough courage to tell them the truth. The bitter truth that he was not going to marry afterall.
Because.....

Yes, because he was going to die after six months.
After 25 years of struggle, academic achievements, medals, certificates and finally a good job. His fate has chosen an early death for him.
He was at home and faked a smile for everyone else.

Sitting in his room, the scenes from dawn were still mocking him infront of his eyes. He thought he was fooling himself by going and watching all those sunrises everyday. He decided, he will see the sunset today for a change.
ATLEAST it was more like his life. Hopeless....promising nothing other than darkness.

He picked up the newspaper from the table thinking it might distract him from the present thoughts.
It was an old newspaper- some three weeks old. He already knew all the contents by heart. He had been blessed with a sharp memory.

Huh!!! it was of no use to him now.
Six months.......Phew!!!!!!! All will be over.

He read that already read article once again. He had not given much notice to it then. But this time, his thoughts were running wild.
It took just a split second for him to decide. He got up and went out. His destination was not too far from his home so he decided to go there on foot.
He was smiling because he had a purpose this time. After some 20 minutes, he was in the doctor's office. He told him what he had in his mind. The doctor was pleased and applauded his decision. He brought a form out from the drawer.
Azaan took some time filling it. He thanked the doctor and came back home.

He smiled and said Salam loudly to greet all his family. This time his smile brightened his eyes too.
In the evening, he told his brother first about his diagnosis of terminal cancer and then about the decision he had taken today.
His brother was shocked at first but slowly it all sinked in. He hugged Azaan tightly with tears shining in his eyes.





Five months passed in no time. He never missed a single dawn. The pain was unbearable for him now. He could barely walk. His brother always accompanied him now. He had spent the five months trying to see all he could have seen if he had some 30 or 40 years more to live.

The sun was rising and the waves were splashing. He was standing there waiting to greet the angels. He knew they were coming. But he was not hopeless......

Because he knew even when he would not be here physically, his eyes will still see the sun rise. His death will colour up the world for someone else.
He had always wanted to make a difference in the society, in people's life. He considered the mission accomplished now.

He knew the sun will still rise and brighten up the world. The dawn would still symbolize hope. His eyes may close, but not forever.
Yes, the sun will still rise and symbolize hope. He knew hope was eternal.


(Azaan had decided to donate his eyes to the blind to make a huge difference in someone's life. He died but made someone's else life worth living. A part of him will always live).

PS: I know the idea is a much talked-of one....but i wanted to write it because of some articles i read which really touched me. As a medical student the first thing our facilitators tried to make us realise was that death is the most difficult thing to deal with. What i feel makes us fear death is the realisation that as we will cease to exist in this world physically, our importance would be lost. We-as humans- want to feel important. We like to think that we are making a difference in people's life.
The biggest satisfaction can come in our life when we find out the real purpose of our being here in this world
The knowledge that even if we don't exist physically in the world, our spirit will be here and our deeds would make an everlasting difference in someone's life is indeed a boaster for the spirit.

"BADAN KI KHAK AKNHON KA PANI CHOR JAUNGA

MAI DARYA HUN BAHAO MAI RAWANI CHOR JAUNGA

MUJHE MALOOM HAI AKHIR TERI DUNIA SAY

CHAL JAUNGA PER APNI KAHANI CHOR JAUNGA

MAI KHUD KO MUNTAQIL KARDUNGA APNI ANEY WALI NASLON MAI

MAIN APNI APNEY BACHON MAI JAWANI CHOR JAUNGA"

Trust me, My love!!!

My love for you,

Believe me is true.

My every tear,

Is shed for you my dear.

You may think that i lie,

But believe me when i die.

You will still be there in my heart,

As my soul's eternal part.

And till the very end, I will keep loving you,

Trust me, my love, what i say is true.

Reflections on The first week in medical college!

I had always been at a loss of words when faced with the question about why i wanted to become a doctor and how I will deal with the stress which the countless demands of this profession results in. I had always been troubled with the questions like are you doing it for the monetary value or the social status and respect which the society gives one as a physician. I thought i would have been guilty of hypocrisy if i had claimed that i wanted it only to save humanity and work selflessly for mankind. Afterall who does not want monetary benefits and respect from the society? I often used to ask myself what would i do after completing my medical education? Would i be treating patients for the common cold and flu problems or would i be sitting in some office as a specialist in any particular field treating patients referred to me by some other colleagues?

I had this strong impression at the back of my mind that medicine is the only thing that i ever wanted to do and would love to do but i was unaware of the actual reasons behind this desire of becoming a physician.
I have been amazed by how suddenly i got answers to all these of my questions in just a few days or probably in just a few hours.
In only the few discussion sessions with the faculty members of my college, i have realized that stress management is not the actual issue, That a physician's goal is not his own self-betterment but it actually revolves around the welfare of his patients. That its not about treating somene for physical ailments, its also about emotional and spiritual healing. That its not about being an excellent medical practitioner, its about being an almost perfect human being. Its about being honest, altruistic, truthful, communicative, empathetic, skillful and innovative. I have realised that a physician is not one who treats a disease but the one who relieves a patient from his problems, pain and suffering and tries all feasible options for this very purpose.
The movie about Patch Adams was indeed inspirational. It cleared the confusion regarding the real goal of medical practice.
Its not just delaying death thats important, its basically improving the quality of life for the people around you which will make some difference.

The idea of being content at the sight of a suffering human's (i.e patients) smile tells me how the physicians manage all the stress. The stress experienced by seeing a patient whose condition is worsening further evaporates at the sight of another patient who is getting better and smiling back at you
What i have realised in these few days is that medical education is not about memorizing facts and practicing skills. Its about developing one's overall attitude towards life and humanity. It demands determination, hardwork, sincerity,passion and committment but it gives back a lot more. And the most important among all what you get is the satisfaction after seeing a patient recover and smile.

One handclasp lifts a soul,

One sunbeam lights a room,

One candle wipes out darkness,

One laugh can conquer gloom,

One touch can show care,

One heart can know what's true,

One life can make the difference,

YOU SEE ITS UPTO YOU!!!

Hajj: when i was there!!!

I saw the visuals on television of millions of Muslims performing Hajj (the fifth pillar of Islam which is obligatory for every Muslim who has the means to perform it) and i went back in the time when i was also there in Makkah. It was quite a few years ago at the beginning of the new millenium when our family decided to perform Hajj. It was the last year of my dad's transfer to Dubai. The journey was a memorable one indeed. And how could it have been otherwise?

We decided to travel from Dubai to Makkah on road accompanied by two other families of my friends and dad's co-workers. My grand parents also arrived from Pakistan to join us. The dads were given the task of driving, moms to pack and prepare and we the kids just to behave well. It is not a short drive from Dubai to Makkah . And therefore, it took us almost 60 hours to reach Makkah. We slept from 10pm till fajr for the two nights we were on the road and were on the move for the rest. With Hamdia and Naatia Kalaam's on the player along with Manajats and booklets explaining the ways to perform Hajj and all its components in our hands, sometimes we dozed off inside the car, sometimes we talked, sometimes we ate anything we could get our hands on from the back of our car and at other times we simply looked outside enjoying the ever-changing view. It was simply amazing, most of the part was desert and we kept wondering on the textures and various colours of the sand there. Then, along the road sometimes came camels and they completed the picture. The temperature was also strange or very desert-like. In days, it was extremely hot and at night it was freezing cold. Especially, at the time of fajr prayers, it was a real test to get out from your blanket and use chilly cold water for ablution (no hot water availiable as there are no water heaters installed on the roadside mosques). My dad had a special duty for me......

It was when everyone dozed off during the daytime in the car and snored (this was done by my grand-dad), my dad would keep me wide awake to give him company and make me wash my face and sprinkle water on his face whenever we both felt sleepy. There came a time when i felt so sleep deprived, i tried to keep my eyes open and let my body sleep. :)

We changed into Ehraam (the clothes for Hajj- two white unsewn pieces of cloth for men and regular clean clothes for women with Head scarf) at the appointed place outside Makkah and offering two Raka'at of prayers moved forward. We were stopped outside the boundaries of this sacred city and split into small groups of ten cars and asked to follow the police officials. Throughout the journey we had not seen many cars along the road, but there we saw the actual crowd. There were cars and cars as far as one could see. By the police officials we were led into a huge parking lot and asked to park our cars and move forward with our luggage in the buses provided for the purpose. The cars not registered in Makkah were not allowed to enter the city in order to control traffic there. We were hungry and the only food availaible was mixed daal(lentils) which was very liquidy with bread. We ate it because we were hungry and because we knew we had to eat whatever availaible for the remaining days of Hajj. There are no hotels, the food is provided to the pilgrims free of cost. There are hotels in the city but none at places like Arafat, Mina, Muzdalifa where pilgrims spend most of their time...almost a week.

Once we entered Makkah, the time fled away without our even noticing. We were always on the move, starting with performing Umra and then moving to Muzdalifa where the only thing one saw was tents. Tents where we had to spend atleast three days and nights....

Spending one night in Mina, we went to the ground of Arafat for the most important component of Hajj. It was very hot, extremely hot but then no one cared. All everyone cared for was forgiveness. Everyone cried for it, begged for it and prayed for it.

Offering prayers, we came back to our tent and collected small stones for the next day. Next day dawned and the time for stoning the devil -Shaitaan- came. After the slaughtering of animals we were free to change the Ehraam. We stoned the other two Jamra'ats in the next two days, offered Tawaf-e-Ziarat ( which to me seemed as the toughest part because it was so crowdy around the Kaaba Mubarak that i feared dying of suffocation). Somehow, we completed the seven rounds around the Kaaba and prepared for the journey to Madina.

We reached Madina, the next day and visited Masjid-e-Nabawi, offered prayers there...spent some days and were ready to come back.

How the time flew was strange. We were there for almost a month and yet it seemed like a few minutes. In no time, we were sitting in our cars, my dad was driving and we were heading back towards home on the same roads we had passed earlier. We reached Dubai after two days and saw the shopping festival and millenium festivities going on. The music in the ground infront of our house was deafening, the cheers from people were shrill and high as they enjoyed some ride or other below. And we thought, what a different world it is from the one we had just left.

At eleven years of age, i might have no proper knowledge of its importance but now i know what it meant to me then.When i realize how i wasted my time there in my childishness, when the only thing i should have done was to pray and pray endlessly and earnestly, my desire of going there now reaches another height. I know i will go there one day, InshaAllah. I know that the Almighty above there will give me one more opportunity to see the Holy Masjid-e-Haram, the Holy Khana-e-Kaaba, the Rooza-e-Rasool (PBUH) and the battlefields of Ohad and Badar. I know i will once again be able to get lost in the crowds of millions dressed in the pure white, crying infront of their Lord for forgiveness, for purity, for Jannah. Oh! i so hope i will be there once again offering those "NAFAL PRAYERS" in the Cave of Jabl-e-Hira where once Our Holy Prophet (PBUH) used to offer prayers for days and nights.

I know for sure that i will get another opportunity to land my foot there because even in my childish lack of awareness, when i had to pray where every prayer is answered and every wish granted, I asked this ,"YA ALLAH TA'ALA!! MERI HER JAIZ DUA AUR KHWAHISH PURI KARNA" (Oh! Lord Almighty! Listen to all my prayers and fulfill all my just wishes).

And from that day i never had a wish unfulfilled. Never had a pray unanswered, I might have felt that my wishes are not being granted, or my prayers are not being answered or that i am being treated harshly by fate. But, everytime when my frustrations got the better of me and tried to make a thankless jerk of me, The ALMIGHTY made me realize i have not lost everything, that the actual wish has still been granted, only in a twisted form, That i was stupid not to realize how beneficial the temporary setback had been to me.

When i see millions dressed in white offering Hajj i realise the power of the Muslim Ummah, only if the Ummah also realises it.

All Muslims are there for one purpose, to please their Almighty and ask for forgiveness. No one remembers his ownself, the individuality vanishes. There is no black or white, red or yellow, African or American or Asian or any other. There is no Indian or Pakistani, no short or tall, no smart or plump. All the various groups merge into one whole unit- The Muslim Ummah-capable of crushing any power, any evil force that comes in their path. The problem lies in the fact that as soon as the white Ehraam is off from our bodies, the voices of Labaik-Allah-Humma-Labaik subside and we leave that land, we once again split into the many groups, we once again become the black and the white, the yellow and the red, the Asian and the African, the American and the Indian. We lose our strength as soon as we become individuals. The 313 soldiers were victorious at Badar because they were one whole unit, because they were united and commited, because they had belief in their unity.

We want to get back that belief and commitment which made our forefathers rule Spain for more than eight centuries. Only then, we can live in this international community with our heads high.

"Yun to kaaba bhe, kalma bhe, hai quran bhe aik

kuch bari baat thi, hotey jo Musalman bhe aik

------Allama Iqbal--------"

Poverty- the vicious cycle!

It was a shabby little hut where he opened his eyes,
The innocent baby and his innocent cries.

The cries foretelling his miserable fate,
The fate, which was to be his lifetime mate.

His father- a poor hardworking man,
Was killed in a dispute with a nearby clan.

The dispute being of trivial nature,
Never brought into notice, the poor man's murder.

Thus, came into this world, an unfortunate soul,
Unaware of what was for him in store.

His mother too weak to earn some bread,
The boy was, therefore, seldom fed.

With little to eat and no fun at all,
He started to grow a little tall.

When he was but a little boy of eight,
In vain, he would, for good days wait.

The good days never came his way,
But destiny took his mother away.

Oh! how the poor innocent soul cried,
Wondering why every joy, was he denied.

Without anyone to love and caress,
The boy's life was one of agony and distress.

The hut was the same, and so was the boy,
He laboured hard, his life devoid of any joy.

Labouring hard, he grew into a young man,
He would then, with hope for good days, plan.

He married a girl whose life was the same as his,
Determined to share sorrows, and turn them into bliss.

They started their journey with love, together,
They vowed to stay happy forever.

Though money was scanty, and meals rare,
They thought their life was pretty fair.

The cruel fate again came to strike,
The young man was hit, by a rashly driven bike.

He was disabled for the rest of his life,
And left in misery, his poor young wife.

Being forced to earn bread for them both,
She knocked every door to sell some cloth.

Her health kept failing, but the stove was kept alive,
Inside her, she was nurturing, another life.

The young man seemed to be nearing his demise,
From his sickly bed, he was unable to rise.

The money was scantier, the meals rarer,
The only option left was an earnest prayer.

The answers to their prayers never came,
They had no idea that who was to blame.

The night was getting darker,
The future looked even harder.

It was the same shabby little hut, where he opened his eyes,
The young man's baby and his innocent cries...............

Mr. Bharat Verma's Misconceptions.

I had heard him first on a Tv channel and to tell the truth was not pleased with his tone especially towards Pakistan. So, i thought of finding a bit more about him. In this quest, i stumbled upon his one article which catches your attention (if you are a Pakistani especially) only if you read the title.
Stable Pakistan not in India’s interest by Bharat Verma.

I don't know what majority of the Indians think about this view of his, as he is quite critical of his own countrymen too.

I would like to comment on some of his misconceptions about Pakistan.
He says in the very beginning :
"That New Delhi is its own enemy became obvious, when it permitted the creation of a pure Islamic State on its borders...."
"Therefore, if New Delhi has not slept a wink since the creation of Pakistan, it has no one except itself to blame!...."

Well , Mr Verma you might as well clear your assumption that Pakistan came into being because of New Delhi's mistake.
As a matter of fact it came into being because Millions sacrificed for its creation, because of a struggle which extended for almost a century and in one way or other is still continuing. Most important of all, Pakistan came into being because it was destined to.


He then says:
"Many conveniently propose the myth that a stable Pakistan is in India’s interest. This is a false proposition.
The truth is that Pakistan is bad news for the Indian Union since 1947-stable or otherwise".

I seriously am shocked to see Mr. Verma worried because of a nation which he thinks will cease to exist in matter of time as i will quote later on. Well, Mr Verma! Pakistan and India are two Nuclear powers. Whatever, you may think you have to cope with this bad news you call Pakistan. Because, as the situation stands today, a stable Pakistan is imperative for a stable India. Ofcourse, all indians are sensible enough to know, war is in no one's favour.
It will end with two lands destroyed, and the two nations will be no more there to claim it.

He continues with baseless allegations:
"However, during these phases of stability, it continued to export terrorism, fake currency, narcotics, and indulged in attempts to change demographics on our borders, cultivated sleeper cells and armed groups inside our territory to create an uprising at an appropriate time".

Mr Verma, for these allegations of yours which you so confidently link to Pakistan, i would like India to go with all your proofs to that International court of justice. You certainly need some justice as you have been hurt so much. The crimes you accuse Pakistan of are serious enough. Certainly, if Mr Saddam could be convicted, you might succeed in getting justice and convicting Pakistan. I wonder if you are so convinced of your suppositions, why haven't you created havoc in the international community for being treated so harshly.

Mr Verma mentions:
"In either case Baluchistan will achieve independence. For New Delhi this opens a window of opportunity to ensure that the Gwadar port does not fall into the hands of the Chinese. In this, there is synergy between the political objectives of the Americans and the Indians. Our existing goodwill in Baluchistan requires intelligent leveraging".

Disregarding your and other countries' objectives Mr Verma, i am shocked to know that you have some kind of existing goodwill in Baluchistan. The situation in this province of ours doesn't really seem to have any particular signs of "goodwill" involved there.
I wonder what sort of admission this is on your side???


Mr Verma continues and mentions his biggest misconception:
"With Pakistan on the brink of collapse due to massive internal as well as international contradictions, it is matter of time before it ceases to exist".

"At the height of the recent disturbances in the Valley, when a general asked me for a suggestion to resolve the issue, I said: “Remove Pakistan. The threat will disappear permanently.” Today the collapse of Pakistan as a state is almost certain. All the King’s men cannot save it from itself".

I never realised that my country was on the brink of collapse. Mr Verma, you have really opened my eyes to all the dangers.
Well, i may ask you, who was it who commented in 1947 that Pakistan can't even survive for ten years?
Some British or Indian perhaps!
If Pakistan survived at that time with no industry, no capital funds, no military training, no ammunition, with only one thing we had-spirit. It will face all the odds once again, and then again.
And for the correction of your record, we don't need any king's men to save ourselves,
we still have the spirit.
And one thing strengthens my belief even further!
If Pakistan could survive with the sort of leaders we always had, none good after Quaid and the party, why can't we now?
We definitely can and will!
Pakistan is a reality Mr Verma, and the sooner you realise it, the better it will be for you.

The two nations would like to live as two good neighbours, visit each other, share there scenic beauty, play cricket together and do all which two friendly nations do.
No one wants a fight. But self-respect is the right of every country. And we the Pakistanis are a very proud nation indeed. True, we have problems. Every nation does have theirs. In our own course, we will overcome these problems someday.
Hope, no doubt, is the foundation of most revolutions. The second is spirit. And thanks to the Almighty above, we have both.
I know so many indians, who unlike you would like to see both nations happy.
And there are a lot many Pakistanis who would like the same.

Looking forward to busy days!

I have had my share of inactive days in which i had nothing to do. Now the countdown has started.....



There are just 11 days left and my days of freedom (velapan) will end. Oh! i am so pleased to know that.

I often ask myself if the seemingly endless months of studies and preparations for exams and entrance tests frustrated me more or these two months of complete idleness. I almost had started to think of myself as an idler, a burden on this already burdened society of mine who eats, sleeps and wakes up again to eat and then sleep again.Suddenly my insomnia was gone as soon as i was free from the monsterous intermediate books. I had been sleeping as if in hibernation. I have slept so much that i am pretty sure i can go on without doing that again for a few weeks atleast.

For the first time, i realized what a curse it was to have nothing to do, to have no tasks set for a day, to have no immediate purpose in life. I had often yearned for the life i was kindly granted for two months. A mere glimpse of the life i had actually desired once was enough to terrify me and make me determined to stay busy all my life.

These days made me aware and actually worry about my being anaemic. They also gave me plenty of time to bother myself and my demented mind with all sort of family matters. They made me think for hours about all sort of things i never gave a second thought to. They made my headaches even more frequent.

But as i see my ordeal nearing its end, i am getting better everyday. I am looking forward to a splendid time ahead.I am looking forward to the time when i will be too busy to even scratch my head. When i will have to spend hours locked in my room studying books which i hope i will love.

I am looking forward to a lot many new friends, a whole lot of new interesting people which i will meet and befriend.
I hope i will have a great time in the coming five years which are the most important in my academic career.I hope shifa will prove to be the best thing that ever happened to me.
I hope....after five years i will be writing another lengthy post to preserve many new memories.

You still remember me!!!

That day i opened my inbox without any intention of mailing you. I was angry because you were so busy and i was so free. I thought the endless chats we used to have were all history. I thought i will never be able to get that sincere advice by you. I even thought i might have been a pass-time friend for you with whom you talked while you had plenty of time at hand. I thought i had lost a very important friend forever.
I went through all my previous read and unread mails and your mail address came infront of my eyes. I tried to ignore but the temptation was there. I decided to write a few formal words so that i won't regret it later on. I opened that new mail page and wanted to start with a simple hi but what my fingers typed was entirely different from what i wanted to. I typed my heart out. I knew it would sound rude and accussatory. My fingers kept hitting various keys and without even re reading it once, i clicked the 'send mail" button.
I never expected your reply atleast for one week. Ofcourse, you were busy and to me it seemed that you were not checking your mails often.
I logged in the next day and found you nudging me and asking if i was getting your messages. I was shocked to see you online and i told you so. I never gave you any opportunity to speak. I was so full of the many things i had to tell you. I filled you with all my latest miseries and you listened. You helped me relax and smile as you always did,


Thanks B for all that you are!!
Thanks for sending me those stupid but lovely three mails in reply to my one. Thanks for staying online for so many hours despite your busy shedule just to tell me you were there.

Thanks for everything. AND never ever dare to forget me.

The picture.......

It was one of the coldest nights of the winter season. It was also the darkest.
Lying on the structure which she used as a bed, the girl was sobbing. She had been suppressing her tears all day long fearing that if she gave way infront of them, she would be beaten badly for being so weak.
She was but a weak creature...but she hated to admit it.
She had spent all day appearing as normal as she could but now the well of tears which had been building inside her all day was uncontrollable. She felt so helpless.....

Last few days had been the happiest of her life. She would wake up every morning and get it out from under the bed covers. Wiping away the non existant dirt she would kiss the lovely face and tenderly put it back. It was her hidden treasure....
The adorable expression of that beloved face kept her happy throughout the day. She beared all the hardships knowing she could tell about them secretly to the lovely picture. She ignored the kicks of her step brothers, the taunts of her step sisters and the stares and slaps of her step mother knowing she would forget them all after caressing the picture just once.
She remembred when her father had secretly given her that picture saying, "Jasmin, my dear! keep this with you and don't let others know you have seen it".
That picture was the only memory she ever had of the most important person of her life. She had asked her father with all the love in her eyes, "Dad, why can't you love me infront of them?"
Her dad, kissing her forehead, had just said this, "To maintain peace, my love."
He was a stranger to her when they were around.

Oh!! she cried hard thinking she will never be that happy again. It was gone now. The picture of her beloved was gone...
The only link between both of them....

Her tears dropped even faster when she recollected what misery she had felt when she first realised it was no more there.
The scene repeated itself once again infront of her swollen eyes.

She had come back from school shivering from the bone chilling cold. She was very happy because of her good performance in today's test. She was dying to tell her beloved picture about all of it. She wanted to thank it for being the cause of improvement in her life. When she went to her room, she was shocked not to find it as usuall under the bed covers. She crazily threw away the bed covers, feeling for the picture by her hands as if it was a pin she was unable to see. She had searched her room many times but all in vain. She felt terrible....
She kept searching the whole house whenever possible carefully avoiding their eyes.

And then, she saw it.
Inside the plastic bag in her stepmother's hand. It was crumpled and torn but she could recognize it anywhere in any form. She saw her stepmother give the bag away to the garbage collector and with that went all her hopes of ever holding it in her hands again. Her grandmother had turned after banging the door shut and had an evil smile of triumph on her face. She was standing dumbfounded robbed of all her treasure.
Her stepmother told her to stop staring at her as if she was a strange sight.
For the first time in the 13 years of her life, Jasmin stared hard at her and told her step mother on her face, " I hate you. I really do."
She turned away and busied herself in the daily chores. She expected and recieved a harsh treatment but was numb to all pain then.....

Lying on her poor broken bed, she was crying for the loss of her hidden treasure. The only picture of the person she didn't knew personally but loved the most, missed the most, was no more under her bed covers, close to her heart.








Jasmin cried for the loss of the lovely face of her beloved mother who had died giving birth to her. She sobbed because she was alive and her mother dead. She cried for her mother's death. She had died a fresh death for her.
And this time, she could feel the pain..................

Mumbai Horror!!!

A terrible attack once again. Only its another country, the style of attack changes and the places are different. The result is still the same. Many innocents die, those alive are left in a state of terror unimaginable.
I, sitting there on my cozy sofa and watching television's live coverage wondered, what if gunmen are running all over the streets in which i had spent my childhood. What if the same hotel in which i dined so often is burnt infront of my eyes and i am made a terrified spectator? What if the city i so love, is turned into a battlefield? Or what if i am confined in my house for three horrible days forced to watch television which shows me deadbodies of my own citizens? Or God forbid, what if i am taken hostage to mere youths in their mid twenties and mentally tortured to death by them??

Mere youths!!!!!!!
It breaks my heart to know that people who are almost of my own age are brought up with such crap in their brains that they think they do a job of greatness by killing people. What sort of youth is theirs!!
Instead of doing something to build their countries (if they belong to any), instead of dreaming of an excellent future and planning for it, they are doomed to die as terrorists. Is there any greater pity than the fact that when they die, they are so unfortunate they have no one to cry on their dead bodies.
They have no life here, and none in the world hereafter.

If i had one such person infront of me, i would like to draw blood drop by drop from their bodies and tell them repeatedly no one cares when they die. Its of no use even then, because these people are not capable of any humanly feelings. They are beneath the wildest of animals.

They belong to no cast, no creed, no nation. They don't even belong to the human race.
The society disowns them. Their bodies must be left in some jungle to rot, as they don't even deserve a proper burial.

I always thought cruelty is wrong even to criminals. I thought bloodshed in any form was actually to be shunned. But being forced for a long time to see the gruesome dead bodies of my own brothers, sisters, countrymen and fellow humans mutilated or blown into pieces. I often wonder what punishment will bring all of these people back to life.
None!
I often wonder what punishment will reduce the pain of those whose loved ones died because of some diseased people unfortunate enough to be born.
None!
I often think, my head will one day burst with all these thoughts.

And then, i often think what our world would have been like if there were no terrorists!
No diseased extremists, no murderers of humanity.

It would have been heaven.
Where people smiled, children were not confined inside the walls of their houses because of terror but were allowed to play on the streets without any danger. Where death came as naturally as possible. Where people enjoyed their dinners in the Taj, in the marriot, in the Oberoi without ever seeing them burning and blowing into pieces.

I hope....once again, that everything returns to normal.
But i don't know what is normal..
Because sounds of blasts, gunfires and cries of innocent people seem to me as more normal..
I see and hear them more often than i see smiles and hear laughter.

I hope i die a sane person and have a normal death. I am not afraid of death but i am afraid of my lifeless body lying on some road with ambulances screaming and bloodshed all around.

In between PAST AND FUTURE!!!

I am on my way to make my dream a reality. The journey of my lifetime is about to start. Yes, finally i know for sure that my future is going to be the way i hoped it to be. Thanks a ton to Almighty Allah for his blessings on me.
Today i have resolved to pen down some of the most cherished memories from my past. And i do hope that this post is going to be one of the dearest of my all.
Two years of college life flew away so quickly that it seems just tomorrow when i was blogging about THE EXPERIENCE OF COLLEGE.....

Whatever my initial response to the hardships we faced in the first weeks was, it soon changed into an acceptance of what was a routine matter.
Starting with a bunch of strangers, our class progressed into the most notorious (rowdy, undisciplined according to our great teachers). A-section of 2ND year was a group of serious trouble causing sweet girls and we were its proud members.

The days which in the start felt like a burden became so full of fun that it was difficult imagining it will soon come to an end.
My first acquaintance in the college was with no one else but our very own Respected Principal. She first communicated with us at orientation and then made it her habit to do so every now and then.

STUDENT-PRINCIPAL MEETINGS.............

How can i forget those interesting student-Principal meetings in that doomed hall to which she called us so frequently???
I wonder why these were always arranged so that to spoil our precious cafe-time. The meetings usually were for discussing the reasons of our poor performance in class tests etc especially of chemistry ( as she had done PhD in the very subject).Our Principal's lectures were not to the students taste and thus we- the students- tried to avoid them as much as possible. But those who were unfortunate enough to enter that gloomy room called our main hall tried to have fun by complaining against almost any teacher whose name came to their minds. Our Principal would desperately ask us to tell her if we were facing any problems with our teachers. We were always full of complaints but most didn't had the courage to name our teachers (usually because the most problematic teacher ensured her presence in the hall during this all important meeting). But if luckily someone was not present or we were alone with the Principal for sometime, there were few courageous girls in our class who stood up and gave a good speech in favour of the poor student lot and the cruel teaching staff. The rest would whisper about "how true this is??" etc. And almost everyone thought " i was also just about to complain against her!!(any teacher being discussed)".
Here i would like to say that RB and AN were usually the ones to stand for a cause ( and a great cause it usually was indeed).

THE COMPLAINTS..............
The complaints lodged were for a variety of reasons against a greater variety of teachers. They were all genuine complaints - those which reached our Principal and those which were just discussed among us during breaks, free time etc.
E.g, the English teacher talked too much in English and her replacement didn't knew any English. The Urdu teacher was usually absent and when she came she preferred not to teach. (This is quite another issue that we all ticked our sweet Picasso music a little too much in rhythm to irritate the hell out of her. We actually shared pens with those who had ones which were not able to make that particular sound. Tick Tick tick...............).
The chemistry teacher taught too slow that we feared we wont be able to cover our syllabus in time. One physics teacher was too strict and the other was a bit too lenient and sleepy. I don't remember if our class had some serious issues with our Islamic studies teacher, but i certainly had one. She made me realise how badly my name can actually be pronounced. I just cant figure out how she got the idea that my name was the way she used to call it. We also had our doubts about the doctorate degree held by our biology teacher Madam Dr R, but we kept them to ourselves.
You people must be wondering we were one hell of a complaining lot but these are just glimpses of the complaints we had and the actual scale of them is quite unimaginable.

Most part of the First year was spent in making friends and deciding which seat in our overcrowded class was best suited for listening to lectures and which for the purpose of avoiding them. Everyone tried their best to get the honours of being a backbencher but all wishes cannot be fulfilled. Some unlucky ones just had to sit in front and they pretended to like it.

BUNKING CLASSES.........
We learnt the art of professional bunking and some of our class mates mastered it. The main reason behind bunking the classes was to get something edible for our stomachs. Because if we attended all our classes, the only reward we got was a lot of fried rolls stuffed with very less potatoes(boiled) and too much cabbage. It was considered the perfect diet for students and prepared in infinite quantity.....our college seemed to have an unlimited stock. With the passage of time our stomachs got used to them. If we wanted to get a plate of Channa chat ( which was not a good idea) or rice( which were rarely available) or anything other than rolls we just had to miss those boring chemistry, physics or biology lectures. If someone reading this is wondering why we didn't utilize those 20 minutes breaks we had in between the fourth and fifth periods?

CAFE...........
The reason is that during those breaks it was one hell of a task to get into that cafe and manage to come out looking sane with some eatables in your hands. We used to walk those corridors from that Room no 15 (our main occupation during First year) to the cafeteria and stand in front of its entrance planning how to satisfy our hunger. Some unfortunate soul was handed over all the money and pushed into that hungry crowd asking (rather shouting) for every sort of eatable (though they were not that "eatable"). By the time that unlucky girl came back with her hairdo spoiled and dupatta almost torn with some samosas etc in her hands, it was already five minutes past the fifth period. We had to rush back to our class and innocently claim that we had not heard the bell at all. Only then were we allowed to come in.
The sensible ones just brought lunch from home like good school girls and had fun with their sandwiches, fries during the break.

There was another option!!



CHALLI!!!!
Yes, that is boiled corn. The challi wala uncle was a great hit actually. When one was really hungry and the cafe was no help, one could always opt for buying one and enjoy eating it. When corn was out of season the "challi wala uncle" became the "daaney wala uncle" and we enjoyed those hot channa''s and kashmiri daanas a lot. In fact the daana's were quite in demand. You could choose from the varieties available i.e the hard, the soft or the mix ones.
Unlike what we usually supposed, the daaney waley uncle was quite a rich man ;-). Well, he at least always had a change while our cafe people usually had none. I remember quite well that once i required a Rs.1000 change quite desperately for i had to submit some important form. I went to the cafe for three or four times with WT but came out disappointed. It was just a thought to inquire from the uncle and WT said, "Come on Yaar! I don't think he will have it this early in the morning". I replied, "What's wrong in giving it a try yaara?"
Well, we asked him and he shocked us by getting it out from his pocket and giving us the required change. We thanked him and walked away to submit the forms.
We also entertained ourselves with his daanas during our biology practicals.Biology practicals were always a treat. Reason???

ZOOLOGY LAB.............
Our zoology lab was located in close proximity to our great cafeteria. So, we managed to get something to munch on while preparing those slides and viewing them under the microscopes. Coming to think of those microscopes, i think most of them were for the purpose of display as only a few actually worked. It was a tiresome task to put your slide under almost every microscope present and be able to see nothing at all. At the end one would just ask the girls around if this or that one was working. At last when one finally identified one in a functioning state, the scream of joy uttered would catch the attention of all students present and the place would become crowded in seconds with everyone pushing their slides in front. . To add to all the disappointments, the slides were usually a great failure. They were either full of bubbles or the dye (methyl blue) exceeded the required quantity a bit too much so that the only thing one could see was the dye itself. It was an interesting spectacle- the slide preparation. There was great bustle in the lab. Everyone trying to make the best slide. Our teachers directed us to take very little material for the slide as according to them, the lesser the material, the neater and clearer the slide would be. In the quest of getting as little as possible, we ended up with actually nothing on the slide other than a drop of water. We assumed our material to be microscopic and dropped some dye on the water. We would then try every microscope and ask every other class fellow if they could see anything like the slide we were supposed to prepare. Getting answers to these innocent and desperate queries in negative, we washed the slide and usually started all over again with the determination of Napoleon Bonaparte.

PHYSICS..........
Physics- as the name suggests- was terrible. Whether we were having the theoretical lectures or performing the practicals, we mostly messed everything. The department itself was quite weak. The faculty was not very impressive and we got the worst share. Our incharge-Madam S-was from that department. She tried her best in the one and a half year she was our incharge to convince us that we could never be doctors. Her favourite sentence was "Kia samajhti hain Aaap? aap sab doctor ban jayengee??"

She had that Inzamam-ul-Haq's sort of tendency to use a lot of "is" in her conversation too. We all thanked our stars when she happily got married and we got a new teacher as our incharge.

Madam T!! Oh, she was a sweety. A middle-aged woman who taught us very well. She was our teacher for Modern Physics and we irritated her quite a lot. She had that habit of giving childish punishments for our time wasting tactics. If someone talked a lot, she would punish her to go and sit on the last bench at the back (it was a wish granted for the concerned student). Then, if someone still disturbed the class, the maximum punishment she gave was to make the student stand facing the wall at a corner. Once she punished some students while we were in a mood to have some real fun. And i remember well how we all laughed out loud while she was lecturing us on our bad manners because the girls were exchanging corners behind her back (or rather pretending to play the kona-kona game).

Thanks Madam T for all your patience with us. I know we were trouble for you but i hope you didn't mind it much. I am saying it based on the way you usually smiled on our stupidities. And because you were one of the very few people who sincerely wished us good luck for our future when we met you last.


While discussing Physics, i really cannot skip the ever-smiling Madam A. She tried to teach us the electrical part of our course and was always wondering that something must have gone wrong. Because after almost every sentence she would ask, " Theek hay?" with that wide smile on her face. And we would say (to our own poor selves of course) that, "Nothing is theek(right) Madam!! We couldn't get a word of the crap you were trying to teach us". It was considered that banging one's head on the wall might be more fruitful then asking a question regarding physics from her.
She was the sort of our teacher, our college really treasured!

The practicals were not even worth mentioning. Both our instructors for the two years were a great terror- Madam S and Madam K. We never got any reading correct. We always supposed that the fault was with the apparatus available. Madam K would draw a circuit diagram on board. We would follow it to connect the apparatus. No reading!
We would disconnect and change the connections as we wished and finally would get the desired readings. Hurrah! three cheers for the 90 minutes of our poor lives wasted away.

CHEMISTRY............

Coming to the biggest horror of our life- chemistry. How we passed the physical chemistry's exams???
I really have no idea. But nevertheless we did accomplish that feat probably because of the efforts of Madam U. She worked harder than us to teach 86 brains which were blank as far as concepts in chemistry were concerned. I, for one, had no idea that anything like concepts existed in chemistry. Our Madam K always told us how she wondered that such dumb brains as ours could pass that first year exams. She had that perfect sarcastic touch to her lectures which were delivered so that we would realize how dumb we really were!

She taught us Organic chemistry and everyday when the bell ringed signalling that her lecture has ended, everyone took a deep breath of relief and knew that if this period went well, the rest of the day is going to rock.

She really was pleased when someone failed to answer any of her questions. It was the perfect opportunity to remind us what dunces we were.
Oh! how she caught 17 bunkers one day. It was a massive bunk because she had threatened that if someone failed to answer any question from the previous lectures, the consequences will not be her responsibility. She charged Rs. 100 to every unfortunate girl and then allowed them to sit in the class. I was also among that unfortunate party, and we all felt quite bad for F who was crying as if the whole world has come down because she had been caught.
We always repeated her (Madam K's) famous statement which she had delivered when a girl commented that she was unable to understand the last days' lecture. She wrinkled her nose, raised her eyebrows like a tent top and said,"Kia main kal faut hogaee thi? jo ab mjhe bta re ho? duffer!" The way she banged the door on MI's face when she came late in class and had a juice and rolls in her hand. She remarked, "Agr 11 bje he tum log bhook se mar rahe hotey ho to koi zarurat nahi class main aaney ki?" (if you are dying of hunger at only 11 am, there is no need to come to the class). We were shocked she could do this to MI, she being one of the best in chemistry.
WE got two weeks of complete bliss when she went on leave. Everyone was elated and wondered what could keep her away for so long. Some wished she was ill, some supposed she went to attend her son's marriage (though we were not sure if she had any son). We all hoped she wont return, but Alas! she did come back to torture us yet again.
Our inorganic chemistry was pathetic, courtesy Madam H. We called her Madam Sa Re Ga as she liked to sing and was a dance teacher too. In fact when we laughed while she was lecturing us, she used to tell us how "besurey" we were at laughing. She was biased in favour of any student who could sing well. Thankfully, we had none who showed this particular talent.

During practicals, the fun reached another level. In that smelly chemistry laboratory, the funnels (all broken and dirty), the burettes (with those funny rubber nozzles) and the beakers (both plastic and glass ones) were all our tools. We enjoyed the titrations and were particularly happy when we made good crystals. We would keep them in our notebooks like people keep roses in their diaries. We were completely unaware of the torturous salt analysis until we reached second year. The blunders we made while performing confirmatory tests or identification tests agitated our instructor a lot. The gases which evolved especially for bromide and chloride radicals were irritating to our nostrils and throat but we tolerated them somehow. Everyone tried to reach the laboratory early because they wanted to get their hands on the cleanest of the watch glasses, china dishes, test tubes etc. I thought it to be a useless quest as there never was any clean apparatus in that lab. We washed them as much as we could and when we returned them to that stupid monster of a lab assistant we had, he would say, "Wash kerain, warna main kal apko aisey he dunga".
If he was not around everyone attacked the apparatus as ants would attack honey. We played with acids, alkalies and salts and came out after having fun bracing ourselves for Madam K's torture. Everyone rushed to the Room No 2 while taking off their lab coats as soon as the attendance was marked..

The remaining subjects were what we called "compulsory" and so were not very important. We bunked them mostly, attended them for fun and cursed them as we reached our homes so late only because of them. In this category were placed english, urdu, islamic studies and pakistan studies.


ENGLISH!...........
We were always in a state of war with our english teachers and they kept on changing like Islamabad's weather. They were on top of our complaints-to-do list. There was one Madam A who had the shrillest voice one could imagine. It tore one's eardrums apart. She had so much nasal quality to her voice that we wondered if she used her voice box at all. We suffered many a headaches as a result of listening to her lectures. We got her replacement in Madam S. OH! what a command she had on Minglish (yes , not english). We feared our pronounciation will be lost if she taught us for even a full week. We complained against her strongly, RB even wrote a letter to Madam Principal about her. We got another teacher in her place who was quite a good one. The only problem was she mostly remained absent but it was not as serious as the last one. So, we graciously ignored it.

We also had a child-teacher in Madam S (biology). All the year she worried about whether she would manage to get admission in QAU for the PhD she wanted to do. She started to cry if we talked a lot or didn't listen to her or made noise. We then calmed her down with apologies. It was a tough job to listen to her inaudible voice. I have no doubts her frequency was below the range for human hearing. She was pathetic as far as diagrams were concerned but had a good grasp at the concepts. It's quite another thing that she failed to to convey those concepts to us.

WE.............
Our class was a group of many fun-loving girls among which thrived some who used to spoil the fun. There were bookworms (IM, HM, AK, KK ETC), there were bunkers (MA, JM, the AA and group n me too etc), there were childish girls (SK) and there were very mature girls (can't remember) too. We learnt a lot from each other.

E.g, RB taught us to swear a lot. She would swear on almost anything saying that "kasam sey" every now and then. And we admired it very much. After some while we all adopted the habit and said "kasam sey" very often. KK was a hardworking girl with immensely active tear glands. She would cry after every result (even if she got the best scores among the majority) and when we tried to cheer her up, she would say, "Tum logo ko nahi pata, mere dad ko kitna bura lagega mera result" and would cry even more. Our second year's Class representative- AN- was a fun loving girl. She was a great character infact. She always reminded me of the Fifa world cup italy had won. She was the cheerleader of the whole class when we made life hell for our teachers. She would call present for many of the absenties and bunkers by changing voices. In short, she was an excellent representative and a great help.

AK and HM-the pair was a good one in studies. Both were always competetive and remained at the top till the end. We considered them big time jerks for doing so well in studies and making us feel so average.
The greatest pride of our class were MA and JM. Wow! they brought great repute and fame to our class. JM with her head buried in the torn Harry Potter book and MA with her killer looks and lovely smile. I wonder if JM ever completed that book or not but i reckon she was pretty determined to do so. MA applied kajal with unbelievable neatness. It even shocked Madam K......

It was chemistry exam and she was wearing a pink sweater (when only black was allowed) and Madam asked with her eyebrows raised high, " aap walimey k liye ayi hui hain? Itni safai se to mene kabhi kajal nahi lagaya."
She kept wondering on it for a long time even after MA was gone from the exam room. Well MA hardly attended any class and so did JM. There was one sweet girl in Namkeen (Sorry T) and SK was the child of the whole class. She even brought her doll (Munni) for the visit to the class and we all loved it. IM was always a worried girl who kept on issuing and re-issuing books from our library (so was that room called where a pile of old, worn out books was kept stored like junk). I often helped her find the required books. We would find the best book for physics in the zoology shelf and would read it and try to figure out how much help the book would be to us.

EVENTS....AT COLLEGE...........
We had but few events at our college and we - the pre-medical lot- usually didn't participated in even those. We always were invited to the most boring of the events. I once participated in one graphic designing "poster competition" on insistance of my friend WT. She was a student of ICS and forced me to participate. It was quite strange but i won that competition. I was very much elated and recieved congratulations from all my class fellows. My smile that day reached a mile and remained so until RB bluntly mentioned it and i had to make my face look normal again. It was this prize that made me register myself for the intercollegiate poster competition. I and WT worked on it together with great devotion. We went to the XYZ college well prepared. They disallowed WT to participate. I still managed to get a prize there. Came back to the hall where WT was waiting for me. She gave a brave show by cheering up for my sake. We came back greatly dissappointed and told everyone how biased the competition was. Well, they allowed only one participant from other colleges and above ten students of their own were listed. We levelled the scores when they visited our college for competition though. We also introduced that one-student-each-college policy and it irritated them quite a lot. WT won a prize this time and the rest went to some other colleges.


FUNFAIR- THE BIG DAY..........
The other big occasion in our college was the Funfair. The first time we had it, the day was a rainy one and it spoiled much of the fun. The second time, it was a good sunny day and I and WT enjoyed a lot along with other friends.
The gol gappas were stale and roll paratha cold but we still enjoyed the pizza and the variety show in a packed, suffocated hall. RB and T performed very well and earned a lot of praise. Their dance performance was indeed excellent and was discussed for many days after the funfair. Infact, RB earned many fans after that. Other than those boring (for us) competitions and funfair, we had nothing of great importance in college. The whole session seemed to move towards this big event. Girls selected their dresses way before the actual day and planned how to spend it for the whole year.

MY FRIEND.......WT....
WT and i had great fun and the time spent with her will certainly be the most memorable. The whole day bunks, the cafetaria fun, the endless laughter on stupid jokes. I met with many other girls through her, few of them quite interesting. E.g, MH whom we called as the HBL, and SF who was a very cool girl with a habit of shouting and getting excited at every little happening. There also was a B frm her class, thin as a rod with a speaking style of the perfect Ghunda....(thief) and a very innocent looking MA(nt our own class one). She was an all time confused personality but fun to be with. She joked frequently and never realised that she had done so .


FUN IN BUS.............
The other time with WT which was really memorable was the fun in bus. The bus time was really the prime time. It was tailor-made for having fun. Our buses were wonders of mechanical engineering and survival. They produced strange sounds which only talents like RB could copy. We-the girls- were loaded in them just like poultry vans are loaded with hens. With our bodies bent at every extreme angle, we came home happily dicussing our day's happenings and suffering the cruelty of uncles and conductors. We had a Gandhi ji resembling baba for a conductor(no offence to gandhi ji meant, he really had a striking resemblance with him). He preferred to sit himself and let the conductory be done by someone else and usually was ready to flame our khooni driver against us. They were specifically trained to insult girls and they did their duty well. The khooni went away in our second year and we all were very much relieved. But we were unaware that his replacement will be a sweet-from-outside-bitter-in-real uncle. He never waited for anyone while picking us from our stops and we missed our buses very frequently.

We would make great noise in the bus singing jingles, copying our teachers, sharing jokes, teasing AS for being so thin that we could easily blow her. We would tell her that we never booked a seat for her, as she could easily fit in the air space between two girls. The sweet girl would just smile on our stupid jokes. Our group in bus got bigger and bigger with time and people feared us as we made so much noise to cause serious headaches. RB, her school time friends, AS,WT, me and later A and S from first year also joined in

EXAMS...........shhhhhhhh!!!
I didn't mention the exams because that particular period passed away without our even noticing its arrival. We were always giving exams. May it be monthly tests, periodicals or sendups or pre-boards (did anyone appeared in all of them??). We were always performing bad especially in chemistry (much to the dismay of our poor Principal) with the exception of a few who did well.


We always were shocked with our results, no matter how we did. If we passed, it was shocking, if we failed, it was shocking and if someone had got the topscore, then it was even more shocking. Everyone had that strange expression on their faces when they had their papers in hands. With eyes bulging out, mouth wide open, everyone just stared at their performances. We worried about the finals, went to the cafe and cheered ourselves up once again. WT would say that the college administration should mark cafe's attendance instead of the classroom's, as the former was much better.

NO-GO AREAS........

The college account's office was a strange place. May it be forms, registration cards, submission of transport or other charges, we had to stand for hours in long lines and the clever ones got the task done by the backdoor.
We avoided some places almost as if it was our moral duty to do so. Among these were the college office where some clerks were seated. We visited it when we had to get some important document's copy attested. We also avoided the assembly hall- it was the same doomed place where we had those meetings i had mentioned above.
We used to run away from the hall as if it was infested with some kind of contagious disease. If someone called us for the assembly, we used to scatter in every direction in the college but the one which lead to this great hall.
Also there was a library (or a room which was so called) where we rarely went. I only went there to assist IM and once for some search regarding an assignment. I remember we never saw those papers we had submitted with so much hardwork again and therefore pledged never to do any (hardwork) again.


DEDICATIONS...............

In the end, there are some dedications i would like to make to some of my teachers and some class mates. There is no ill will involved, its just a funny way to make you people remember me always.

FOR TEACHERS!!
Madam K (organic chemistry)
Meri nazrain hain talwar, kiska dam hai rokey war, tauba tauba astaghfar!!

Madam H (inorganic chemistry)
Abhi to main jawan hun!

Madam Sh (Biology)
Main roun ya hansun? karun main kia karun?

Madam S (Physics, Class incharge)
Main hun kon? main hu Don!

Madam A (Physics, Electricity)
Show me the meaning of being a teacher!
Are these the questions, you are going to ask me?
Tell me why you cant be quiet??

Madam S (English, or maybe Minglish)
Ik bar angrezi prha do, ik bar muskura do! Minglish se jan chura do! ik bar muskura do!


FOR STUDENTS:-

KK
Sheesha ho ya dil ho toot jata hai...acha ho ya bura ho(result) rona aata hai!

SK
i am a barbie doll, in a barbie world...imagination, munni is my passion : P

AK
bheja (brain) hai ya tape recorder??

MA
fikr na faaka, aish kr kaaka, ye hai naara fulan falan ka

AN (Fifa world cup)
chalti jaye, chalti jaye.......non stop masti, non stop fun......

RB
chupi rustam (bcz ov her performance in funfair and excellent results though she pretended she never studied)

IM
tension deney ka nahi, bus lene ka or letey rehne ka (IM's motto)

SA
ankhen iski gol gol gol! or hr wakt ghoomti hui.....

AS
larki hai ya chari hai, kesey ye khari hai??

WT
chaar din ki zindagi hai, kha le pi le mauj ura ley!
(the reason i had so much fun with her is her this attitude)


Maybe I have missed many important people, maybe i have skipped many a cherished memories. Whatever our complaints were, i would say these two years were indeed very important and fun filled. We enjoyed, we had fun, we made life difficult for our teachers and vice versa :)

THANKS....

I would like to thank all the people who made these two years possible, who helped me become what i am today and what i will be in future. I would like to thank Madam TS (Biology) for her loving attitude. I would like to thank WT for giving me this great idea of preserving these cherished memories online.


Above all i would like to thank my whole class for making these two years memorable. Advance apologies from my side if i did hurt anyone in the passages above or any other time. May Almighty Allah bless you all. Congratulations to all those who have accomplished what they wanted to. Goodluck to those who are facing tough times and trying to achieve something great in life. May all your wishes come true and may you all succeed in whatever you do. (Amen).
Always remember me in your prayers.

The 9/20 in Pakistan!!

I was at my home, sitting on the sofa in my room. My mom, dad and younger brother were in the other room relaxing after AFTAR. It was just like anyother evening, yet it was different. We were about to realise it soon.

All of a sudden, there was a tremor and our doors shook and rattled. My brother said it is a blast, and we all said no, it must be the wind blowing outside or maybe an earthquake. After 8, oct, 05, every little tremor felt like an earthquake. We were speculating about the cause of the sound and tremor when came the BREAKING NEWS.

A huge blast has hit marriot hotel, in the heart of Pakistani capital, Islamabad.

It was terrible. Suddenly, we started calling our relatives who lived in close proximity to the site of the blast, inquiring about their safety. Every one once again realised that security is indeed a superstition. My dad had been on the very road on the same evening on his way back home from office. The place was a mess now.

We were watching the news updates and wondering how many more innocents will die?
How many more unfortunate families will be left mourning?
With tears in our eyes, we were helplessly watching our fellow citizens die.

Adding to the misery, the building of marriot caught fire. The fire was so intense and it spread so quickly that it took about 14 hours with the unequipped fire brigades owned by us to calm it down.
After the flames what we saw was another shock.
There stood Marriot, a burnt, destroyed, blackened structure, with no resemblance to the marriot we knew.

I suddenly remembered my most cherished memory related to marriot. It was a couple of years back when i along with some other students had the honour to attend the first meeting of noble laureates with Pakistani young scholars.
It was a great moment at a great place. An amazing learning experience.

The details of how the blast occured are now known to everyone. A truck (dumper) disguised as a carrier of construction material entered Islamabad, and then the red zone. It hit the marriot's entrance and than the driver blasted himself...
The truck caught fire, and the explosives it was carrying blew apart with a huge explosion after a few minutes.

Here, some people need special mention.
The security guards on duty there.....

They knew the danger all too well. Still, they tried to stop the truck's fire in order to save many lives using just a small extinguisher. It was real show of bravery by the true martyrs.
Hats off to them.

Its the existance of people like these who make us a nation hopeful to see something better in future in situations when everything is going wrong.
I just don't know what was the crime of these people who got killed??

Drivers, security persons, waiters, cheffs, passers by- these all were common people.
If it was in retaliation to whats happening in the tribal areas, i see no way how it can be justified. Acts of terrorism can never be justified, killing of innocent people can never be for some good purpose.

Well, what a beautiful smile it is...

i wonder where our smiling faces vanish as soon as we get out of childhood....

we just forget how to smile....

maybe the cruelty of the world is revealed to us which steals our happiness from us..

the smiles of adults can never be this pleasing, this beautiful....as most of the time...

they dont come from deep inside of us.

The human lot as a whole has forgotten how to smile....

If we want to smile as beautifully as this girl does, the smile must come from our inner soul...

and for this...we need to realise that our smiles made our eyes sparkle as a child because we were content...we didnt ask for more and more...just a candy or two made us happy...

And as adults....

we are not even content with millions...in our banks...

if we learn the art of being satisfied with what we have...we can also smile like this.

"As a rule

man is fool

when its hot

he wants it cool

when its cool

he wants it hot

always wanting

what is not".

if we just want what we can have....no doubt we will smile.

SMILE FOREVER, N SMILE FROM WITHIN.

Lets spread smiles...in this world...............

HOPELESSNESS!

"Hopelessness is Pakistan's staple diet and, unlike electricity, flour or sugar, it is here in plenty."

----by Masood Hasan, The News, July,6,08, SUNDAY.



I read the article this sunday and was forced to think about the reality it so boldly expresses.

No doubt, Mr Hasan is right about the grim situation. Pakistan is "plummeting swiflty to oblivion". It was his 100% correct criticism of Mr Aziz (Short-cut Aziz who is happily living abroad now) that made me a regular reader of his columns and here i am being forced to commend him on his great thoughts and writing. I am attracted to his satirical tone, his realistic stating of facts and his concern about Pakistan. I just can't resist the temptation of quoting all his statements in his current article. Any body who missed it, please grab The News' edition for 6 july 08 and read it all till the end. It so poignantly reminds me of thinking about "wiping off our past mistakes as if they were written on a slate using a chalk". But Alas! as Mr Hasan says "those were slates and that was school", we are unable to do so.

This gives us a lesson which is almost too late to learn that we should take every step with extreme caution.This caution never came into the mind of our leaders. And we- the nation- suffer as a result.

I remember the day our frustrated physics teacher kept on speaking about the present scenario with depression in his tone for almost half an hour. He talked about the massive loan we have taken from the world bank and countries like U.S. Making us almost their slaves. He said he became so tense when he thought that every Pakistani has a debt of about 17000RS upon him even those who have the sky as roof and earth as floor. It was a shock for all of us. We had never thought about our country's loans in that terms. 17000RS is not a small amount for thousands who are living below the poverty line. Those who are unable to eat a complete meal even once a day.

A friend of mine asked about what to write about in an essay about Current Problems, even without thinking my mind was flooded with scores of crisis and problems(severe ones) faced by Pakistan.



I hope without any hope that for Pakistan peace, progresss and prosperity will not be forever out of reach. I hope against all hope that one day we will not have hopelessness as our staple diet and sounds of blasts as music for our ears but pleasure,contentment and laughter instead.

HAPPY BIRHTDAY TO ME!!!!!!!!

In between my practicals, exams and preparations (or so-called preparations) for the ET has come this 24th june.
This marks my birthday.
The day i came in this world to make my parents' life a misery ;).
Actually as a kid, i was good enough.
So, i basically disguised my true evil in a mask of innocence so as to fool my parents into deciding to bring me up.
They did bring me up and gave me confidence (a bit more than required).
The result is the present ME.


WHAT SHOULD I DO TODAY?
Celebrate?
Well with the sort of family(the larger unit) i have been blessed, the idea is ridiculous.
I hope one day this whole unit will be as one...and will wish me.
But as of now, i don't want to be wished by a bunch of people who actually don't care.
Who know just hatred, and no love.
Who know just artifice, and no real emotions.
ANYWAYS.........
its a day of happiness...i wont be remembering the painful moments.

Lets just say...thanks to all my friends who have wished me. You are my true family.
THANKS to my MOM who is alway the first one to kiss on my forehead and wish me. Thanks to RA(My childhood buddy) to be always the first one to wish me wherever she is. And thanks to DADDY because i know you pray a lot for me and you love me from your heart. I can see it on your eyes.

Thanks to everyone who ever remembered this poor me.
And wishing a very happy birthday to me............
may i have many many more or may be just a few more.........

The enigma of entry tests......

Its rather a strange state when one is dangling betweem complete freedom and the hectic shedule which is the demand of examinations.And this strange state is what i am going through these days. I am not exactly free from academic pressure (as the entry tests and the practicals are still there to be dealt with) and i am not really bound (because atleast my exams are over).

I really am in a state of complete confusion regarding what to do with the course books which still haunt my dreams.........
I want to get rid of them but i can't. Wondering why????

HUH!!!!!
Not because i am expecting the worst result possible (i.e a failure) but because i will have to go through them again (and again) because of the stupid Entry Test. Now this entry test is also a cute little way of our education system's strategy to keep the students in a state of misery. You work hard, get headaches over the tiring chemistry, stupid physics and lengthy biology but your result is not proof enough of your ability. They will have to cross check it before granting you that letter which will make it possible for you to turn your dreams into a reality. And to top it all...there is not just one test...there are many of them.

The AKU ET..............(which i gave and failed to succeed in)
The NUST-AMC ET..........(which i am trying to prepare for, sheduled to be held on 27th july 08)
The PMC ET............(which will be held in the month of october)

And this is only the list if you are not planning to apply in other private medical colleges.
There is another test which is completely useless, yet compulsory for students desirous to take admission in (quite a number of) other colleges of our country excluding the medical ones...
This is the test taken by NTS (National Testing Service). It is divided into several categories and they just announce their importance when the last date of registration is less than a week(or maybe two) away.
These tests keep us- the miserable student lot- busy the whole year after our final exams. And i have seen quite a lot of the hard working intelligent students dejected due to failure in entry tests. This is a sad sight...to see the dreams of the really bright students shattered just because they were unable to do well in a 2 hour test. The hardwork of many years going into waste just because you were not aware of how difficult it was going to be....
There is a remarkable difference between our way of studying for exams and entry tests. For exams we are supposed to learn everything by heart....(i particularly hate this way of studying). Although our board is repeatedly heard making statements about the change in the pattern resulting in conceptual way of study, the chances of success for those who memorize everything are still far greater.
The entry test preparation is a completely different task. Their the requirement is not only the retention of all the facts learned in past academic years but also their application. You are asked to analyze data on your own and to solve tough problems at a quick pace. It demands a good grasp of basic concepts, a quick mental solving ability and unwavering concentration-a situation most of the students have never faced before.
We- the students- are used to writing( or copying to be fair) every little fact we had read in our books and other notes with the fastest possible writing speed, but when we are asked to answer a question in a single word or sentence, we fail to do so.
This is where the most intelligent of the students fail because they never knew about how to answer precisely.
Now one must be wondering what is the solution to this serious problem???






Well i am just a student myself, do you people really think i know the solution?
If i had, i would not have been ranting about the severity of the problem. :D

Anyways, many academies are publishing numerous adds about how they will make students perform well in the entry test. I wonder how they are going to change the approach of a student to studies in just one or two months.....
They tell us about how many students of theirs have entered prestigious universities and colleges due to their excellent teaching strategies. However, we never see them telling us the number of those students who were unable to enter the desired college despite studying in their academy. I hope they offer atleast something good...because most of the students rely on the preparation their courses offer. But i would like to say that whether you join an academy or not..you must try your best, work hard and practice. Practice as many questions as you can. Practice, practice and practice. It is the key to your success. Learn from your mistakes....consult good quality books and widen your scope of learning. In the end, no matter what the outcome is, you know you have tried your best. And this feeling is what is the most important.....