I met the young poet on a social media site. Over the past few months we've become friends - more than friends I guess. She addresses me in Urdu, her native language, as big brother. I address her in Spanish as my little sister. Odd to me, having such a relationship with someone on almost the exact opposite side of the world...
Soak my soul with the lightning of raved fire,
Drench the mortal cloak with a luminous desire,
Let my famished foil caress the delicate divine vial,
Carcass of imprisonment be to the trail, left in a fretful while,
Lead the flame lit routes of prism paves, whilst an unprecedented friar,
Embrace ‘tis beaten down morality, drowned in countless torments amongst needs, dire,
Tame my soul to shine through the social norms and aspire,
To alter the frequent prevalent charades, longeth required,
Uplift the revered pathos above all tyrannical inquires,
Fathom the velvety darkness of pivotal python acquired,
Give to the youth my sighs of dawn;
Give wings to these eaglets again,
This dear Lord, is my only wish -
That my insights should be shared by all !
Published on Apr 9, 2013
Mothers of Fukushima is the first part of a documentary on the mothers in Fukushima and refugees who have left Fukushima to protect their children and families. They are being told by TEPCO and the Japanese government with the support of the US government and the International Atomic Energy Agency IAEA that they can overcome radiation and that Fukushima can be "decontaminated".
You and I
I pledge to open my heart
To witness the screens of biased plots
I request to you, my friend
Spare a few relentless specks of unrest
And to me, grant your thoughts for a mere courtesy
For a moment, travel to the roads of willful spiritual ecstasy
Together, let’s pave a world free of greed
With you and I, let’s eradicate every fanatical fantasy
My world is a precious belonging to me
For I would not wish to see it bleed
And fiddle all the accusations to thee
My world is a world with no creed
I may be a maimed soul with numerous maladies
But, my heart still rejoices all the gleeful melodies
Of yonder, the time of peaceful sprees
Those days when judgments of pride shall hear no decree
Maligned soul struggles to battle that intolerant abnormality
And looks up to heaven in wait of intervention, devotedly
I never thought about friendships formed through social media, or any technologically mediated communications, as a possibility. As a matter of fact, I've been critical of any claims of such friendships made by students or relatives young enough to never have known a world without such possibilities. Now I'm going to have to re-evaluate a few established prejudices. This is not easy after discounting the whole idea as being born from the isolation and desperation of shut-in computer nerds and people so socially inept they can't form meaningful bonds with "real" friends.
Wanderings of the nothing thoughts,
Banish the wisdom of the sane facades,
Fondness of the reclusive path,
Leads the pierced heart of the resolve,
Nature clouds the human sanctity,
Embraces him to revert back to that destiny,
Frisking about in the rain of divinity,
Those ugly truths of soul revere frivolity,
Inept gibberish persuades the young grudge,
To spread forward and reach a new judge,
For all the acts disdain,
Graces the stage, the proud parade,
Sins of the devilish evade,
The sounds to the empty hearsay,
Attributes of the misery brocades,
Gleefully, the soiree of solace negates,
That rowan, demersal forte,
For the demonized, denigration of this state
I have been bitterly failing in the task of streamlining my thoughts into words. I have pondered over the reasons of this misery blockage numerous times but no conclusion has been effectively formed as yet. Then, I thought I must have too many wanderings in my narrow tunnels of mind or too less. I have tried to sleep on it, left it alone, made futile attempts to let it all out but of no avail. Catching the fleeting array of thoughts has never been a feat far too difficult for me and an attempt at the expression has been most natural. So, how do I come out of this? How do I let the words run without reins? Where can I find the lost terrain of my fantasies? Why has the reality become an impregnated demolition of my escape?
The sense of oblivion has a way of paralyzing the mind of its territorial rights. Just to be a part of everlasting chaos for as long as one is alive is often an understatement of the description of our reality. The chaos that had once surrounded the ‘upper or lower’ levels of our country has slowly lingered on in the manifestation of every action of ours. This legacy is an unwanted burden on a land that was to be the paradise of the earth. And now has come a time when our people can be clearly divided into categories. This must be applauded as a tenacious success of our lords. Every nation has its own society divisions among the various communities. But the road here takes a turn far too vicious to be controlled. The politics of the world is such, I realize. Yet, most nations have succeeded in recognizing their mistakes and paved the way to rectify those, mostly with victory, often without.
We are a nation often the victim of being the neglectful puppeteers. The specific class division is thus becoming clearer than ever. That may be the animation of my own specks of imagination. The conclusion remains the same, however it may be put.
1- The first class is the foreign Pakistanis living in Pakistan. The mindset of those is so firmly set in the ways of the ‘successful’ foreigners that their comparison of things would at once fly away to seven oceans across. But then looking up for inspiration is the first step to finding ways to change the bitter days. After meager 66 years of independence, it’s surprising to see how ‘much’ part they have played in the betterment of the days of our lives. Religion for them is a mere tool of reflection for others as they are the ‘busy’ bunch, looking for solutions to all the predicaments.
2- The moderate Muslims, now they are of the opinion that a nation like ours shouldn’t be following the footsteps of any country, we should be the ones setting examples for them all. Praise worthy philosophy I say! But then they are the ones who secretly replicate the accents of English noble men. To be clear, I myself am an admirer and follower of languages, pronunciation, delivery and usage. However, to profess a misleading image, authorize judgments on the ones ‘spreading’ mischief of foreign conspiracies and then govern the very same doctrine themselves is beyond the philosophy of that self-proclaimed ‘do gooders’ of our society. They want to be the witnesses of change without being the change themselves.
3- Then we have the most photographed fragment of a most notorious nation, the low class both in social and financial terms. Now, they are the ones not born with any rights or needs or dreams for themselves or their children. The only purpose of their existence is the rightful worship of those above them. They are the breadwinners for the people sitting all mighty and holy in their high chambers, yet they are the ones who get kicked down, knocked around, displaced and deformed, like the authors in any uncivilized society. For them, Darwin’s theory of natural selection most appropriately applies. This is the class of intense competition as the stakes are immensely high, they have to strive for their bread- the dream of butter may be too luxurious for them. The one who can adapt, learn to survive bitter cold, manage to breathe through the harsh heat and learn to reduce their capacity of intake of food should be the one hailed as the ‘man’.
Our ‘many’ (read dozens and dozens of) respectable governments have at the very ‘least’ succeeded in making the ‘skin’ of our idle, laid back people strong. Now, I am sure most of us won’t have an adjustment issue whenever we have to relocate to another continent.
The vital, uncategorized class of citizens is that class whose subsequence members forever remain in the dilemma of finding ways to better the Fate of our peoples. They are a staunch body of workers as not many can survive the psychological grind of dark (literally and figuratively), cold (literally) and hot (literally and figuratively) days and nights. I had once read a few reports on the development of war strategies in the mental and psychological torture department, sensory deprivation made the top of every list. I believe we should not be deprived of the ownership and copyrights of such an elaborate vision has we have been the ones living and surviving it for years and years on now. Nevertheless, the ‘easiest’ way to cope up with that is I have stopped counting time, days, years, hours. Not knowing the numerical version is somewhat relieving, a formula applied successfully.
Pakistan is a nation- not how it is displayed in its talk shows, through its politicians, through its terror headlines! We are an honest, laborious, humble, loving and peaceful nation. That is the sole reason why we have let things come this far. But not now, sitting in a small city of a suppressed house, my heart is rising, the echoes of the whispers which bounced back and damaged my sanity is now finding ways of expression. The true Pakistan will rise! And we will all be here to witness the revolution of intentions.
“…Lo! Allah changeth not the condition of a folk until they (first) change that which is in their hearts; …“
I sent my friend Maryam an e-mail...wanted to make sure she didn't mind me using her picture in this piece. A female activist in her country was recently assassinated for audaciously using words to call attention to the suffering in her land. There's money and power in misery, and those who try to pull the plug on the money machine will pay...with their lives, if necessary.
If you can read this entire article and NOT want to take action, something is wrong. Blessings on those who from a place of empathy and compassion, take action to protect, defend and lend voice, to innocent, sentient, living beings who cannot speak for themselves. Please help cause this post to go internationally viral. ~ Gerean Pflug for The Animal Spirits