((This one is dedicated to all Eff Emmians.Well,this post revolves around my batch (Batch 2012 Class 10th),but anyone can relate to it,anyways!,))
Sometimes,All Of A Sudden You Are Pricked In The Remotest Corners Of Your Heart,And What Follows Is A Series Of Abstract Events,We Call,Memories!
Memories Are Often Attributed With Something Really Pleasant,And That Has To Be The Spirit Counted.Back A Couple Of Years And We Were A Family Of 91 Students,I Recall!
Boys And Girls,Together,Waiting For Bashir Sir To Come…
It Is A Big Hall In The Upper Storey,But It Is Just Half-Filled Only To Let Some Of The Boys Play An Extra-Ordinary Type Of Cricket,,,Yes,Hitting A Knotted Duster,With Some Fine Plank Of Wood,Very Often A Part Of Wooden Bench,Or That Ugly Chair!!
I Remember Aadil,Khawar,Burhan,Murtaza,Arbaz,,,And Others,Including Me,Caught In The Act…
A Team Of Wrestlers Has Arrived!!
Faizan Majeed,Tawqeer,Waseem,Wamiq And Co. Are Just Repeating What The Initially Mentioned Has Seen,Yesterday,In WWE Wrestlemania!!
Just In The Adjacent Room,Sweetest Of Voices,Ever Heard,Can Be Felt In Beautiful Echo…
Who Is It!!
Yes,Wamiq…You Were The Most Melodious Singer!!
I,Personally,Can Be Thought Sitting In An Isolated Chair,Writing Ghazals,And Singing Them All To Myself…Oh!!
I Have A Reason To Smile,Because Zahid Sultan Is Teasing Shahid,And The Later Is So Shy To Reply…
Sisters Are In Their Own World,The Philosophy Of Which I Never Tried To Explore…
The Mighty Window Panes Can Be Seen Guarded By Samiullah,Faisal,Fayouz And Co. Who Often Debated Some Very Serious Issues!!
Bashir Sir,A Young Man Of 65,Can Be Seen Swiftly Wading Into The Class,And All Of A Sudden Everyone Is Back To The Seat,Closely Placed Near That Group-Leader…
He Opens His Suitcase,A Gigantic Geometry Box,And Carefully Fills His Marker With Blackest Of All Inks…
He Amazes You With Every Move,And That’s Talent And Experience,Conglomerate…
Wait,He Is Pointing Towards Someone!!
And What Will Follow Has To Be The Most Precise Slap In The World,Which Is As Musical As Are The Compositions Of AR.Rahman…
The Class Is Over,And Here Enters Our Shabir Sir,The History Teacher…
He Is Such A Lovely Guy,Often Didactic In His Teaching…
But,If It Is Any Example,Then It Has To Be His Village,The Centre Of That Event…
Class Over,And In That Stripped T-Shirt,Which Is White On Other Days,Comes My English Teacher,Javaid Sir,,,
Hey,A Couple Of Students Have Already Fled Away!
They’ll Come,But After 40 Minutes,,,
As The Class Progresses,I Can Feel My Classmates Done With Their Energy,,,Many Of Them Are Sleeping,Some Even Snoring,,,And Rest,Except Me,In The Flight Mode-Sleeping With Open Eyes…
When It Is Notes Time,I Can Hear Faisal Saying,”Sir Chu Aasan Dictionary Manz Sarevei Khout Sakh Word Cshadaan,Patei Chu Leakhaan Sentence…”
Well,Next Class Is Biology,Tawseef Sir Will Cut Some Jokes,And Give A Perfectly Planned Lecture,Only To Get Feedback As “Sir Chu Higher Padnaawan…”
Everyone Has That Brown-Sheeted Urdu Copy In His Hand Memorizing Something Like Dastaan,Ghazal,Afsaana,Munshi Prem Chand,Deputy Nazir Etc
Sher Manzoor Ahmed Shahbaadi,The Urdu Teacher,Comes And It Is Like…
Sir : Fayouz! “Kya Chuth Yaad Kourmut??”
Sir: “Adei Boznaw Teli Nawlei Hund Doyim Para!!”
Fayouz : Taiee!!
And Then Sir Will Pick Up His Regular Customers,And Make Some Hilarious Comments!!
It Is The Last Class,And Mukhtar Sir Comes,Takes Up A Topic,Reaches It’s Climax And Then Says “Leave It Aside…”
The Day Has Come To An End,And The Students Of Bus Number 5 And 7 Would Be Called First…Followed By Locals…
I’ll Leave With Knowledge In My Bag,And Memories In My Heart And A Belief Somewhere In The Middle That Tomorrow I’ll Be Back In My Family…
That Was A Re-Lived School Day…
I Hope You Enjoyed…
Without Much More Adjustable Additions,I Wind It Up Like I Did It On That Farewell Day…
Tears In The Eyes,And Lips Trembling To Utter-
Kisi Goshayay Chaman Mai… —
(Members of flying squad…they came during exam days!…G R Sir,Parvaiz Sir,Nazir Sir And G H Dar Sir)
(Parvaiz Sir,Aashiq Sir,The Man Himself Nazir Ahmed Kuchay Sir,???,G H Dar Sir)
Originally Posted On Facebook By:
Photo Credits :
(These are few lines from Baang e Dara,Sir Mohammad Iqbal’s work.Here I present a translation of it,in simplest expressions possible)
Daleel-e-Subh-e-Roshan Hai Sitaaru’n Ki TunakTaabi…
Ufaq Say Aaftaab Ubhra Gaya Dour-e-Giraa’n Khwaabi…
(Enough Is The Dimness Of Stars,
The Proof Of A Bright Day.
Revelation Of Sun At The Horizon,
And The Era Of Deep Slumbers Has Fled Away!!)
Musalmaa’n Ko Musalmaa’n Kar Diya Tuufaan-e-Maghrib Nay…
Talaatum Haaiy-e-Darya He Say Hai Gohar Ki Saeyrabii!!
(It Made Muslims The Muslims,
The Storms Of The West.
And In The Undulating Waves Of The Waters
Is The Abundance Of Pearls The Best!!)
Hazaaru’n Saal Nargis Apni BayNuuri Pay Roti Hai,,,
Badi Mushkil Say Hota Hai Chaman Mai DeedahWar Paiyda!
(For Thousands Of Years Does She Weep,
The Nargis Devoid Of Charm And Light!
Her Trails,Wails And Struggle,
Hence Is Born The One Worth Sight!!)
Nawa Paira Ho Ay Bulbul Ki Ho Teray Tarannum Say,
Kabuutar Kay Tann-e-Nazuk Mai Shaheen Ka Jigar Paiyda!!
(Burst Into Your Medley,You Nightingale,,,
Your Melody In Every Blink On
May Induce In This Dove,
The Heart Of My Royal Falcon!!)
(Allama)Dr Sir Mohammad Iqbal
(This is Harry Potter time here.This post is a shorter and readable version of ‘relation with Harry Potter series’,fired at audience who wished to study at Hogwarts,but just couldn’t,for the wall on the railway station was never that cosy!!)
(What Harry and Dumbledore with Lestrange and Voldemort!!
Harry,!We never thought you would do this to us!!)
Here we go!!
We all had that feeling of being Harry Potter somewhere down the lane.Our wish to own his smile,innocence and of course that magical wand is a collective fantasy of us,all.We don’t see many Harry Potters around.People aren’t that smart,charismatic or at least true and sympathetic as he is.The Harry Potters around are a cheat.Their false smiles and manufactured innocence erodes away,once the times of test arrive at doors!
Well,you do wish to have a Hermoine Granger around,or be one.When we see Hermoine Grangers around,it is obvious to feel envious or jealous.’How the hell can you…?’ type of feeling comes at that time.Like how the hell can you appear in all classes and don’t even feel to bunk a class,and still be so pretty?…How the hell you remember all those formulae and procedures,when you were with me all the time,all this week? How the hell did you break the rule,you just taught to obey other day?…Well,we don’t have many Hermoines around,but the ones there are enough actually!!
You want a sidekick,you want Ron Weasley around.There are many Ron Weasleys around,clueless and faithful,I say.They don’t study much,neither do they want to think about it.They just need you around,even if you take them into hell called library or adventures of forbidden forests!…They are like typical Kashmiri….’Hayyy Boiiii…..Hayyy Boiii….’type of people.They make things good,and happy go!!
Well,you do feel like Hermoine should have been made for Harry,not Ron,but I am not in a state to add more to it,though!!
No,it is hard to have Dumbledores around.A grandfatherly sort of figure,witty and religious.I think he maybe loosely related to a pious Peer Soub type of person-a guide,a sage.But I do fear to add to his character,for we have Gulzar Peers around!!
Now,if you are in a college or school,then Proffessor Severes Snape has to be there to confuse you and feel like ‘Yi Cha Meaii Vuchan,Kineh Govv!!’type of a thing.He will be spotted with your “enemy teachers and mates”taking selfies,but next moment he will tell you his own tale.It is hard to know about them,whom are they inclined to,and what they actually mean by their smile.Is it a sign of love,or a masked grin?…Also,these people won’t ever spot you when you would come out of ‘Masjid’,but will be omnipresent to catch you at the other ‘bad avenues’ you occasionally visit!!…They are what they just aren’t!
Well,We wish we had Hagrids around,life would be better actually.Those fat ,but cute,uncles ,usually jobless and unmarried,around would make Hagrids.They come down to your age and fail not to talk mature.You wish they had more organised beard and hair,and change their ‘Feran’ or coat,but they just wont.They are beautiful the way they are,and they do console you best,when you get lower marks in your tests!!
Wooh!There are so many of them,Draco Malfoys.Your evil competitors.No word of guidance can set them right,and no ‘Waaz Khwaan’ will bring them to tears.They are just composed of hate and arrogance.Sometimes you feel,they are accidentally in 46 chromosome category.They are a different,wicked species!You can’t avoid them,actually,and that is the problem!!
You are in a school or college, and you have Proffessor Lockhart there.Irritating man,with false stories…You feel like,”Khudaya Reham….Yi Kya Wanan?”In his 45 minutes of class,he talks about his childhood adventures,and stunts on social networking sites,or maybe his association with some celebrity.What hurts you more is that he has got a following,a large one!!
There is always someone you lost in life or just lost correspondence to.There is always a friend like that,for there is always Cedric Diggory!
(Well,there are many other characters I wish to relate here,but I need to know if my audience feel like reading that stuff.I will be more than pleased to see your comment down here,or under the link on Facebook or elsewhere!!)
15 years have passed since then,but it is haunting as if it was just the other night!!
It was the final day of Ramadhan,and the family was all up at the dining mat to witness the last Sehrii of that blessed month.I wasn’t given a chance to feature in this pre-dawn meal,for this five year old could hardly survive but a half day.I don’t remember what I could have been dreaming then,but it came to a halt when a bullet pierced the wood of that window and reflected back after hitting the wall other side.I woke up,and my mother came rushing to the room I was in,and took me in her arms for an encounter had begun,and cross firing started.
We were all terrified by this sudden change of events.The frequency of bullet shots increased and it was getting hard to bear it then.The family started guessing about the target house of these bullets,while hiding beneath the staircase,for that was the safest corner of our newly built house.As the dawn faded into a dim morning,and gun shots slowed down a bit,we were astonished to realize that all these bullets were aimed at us!!
Yes,the whole village was cordoned and militants were suspected to be in our house.As the December sun ascended skies,speakers of the local Masjid barked aloud,ordering the villagers to leave their houses and assemble at some place away from the encounter site.I remember it was a terrible morning,which I thought to be adventurous.The local youth were forcibly hired to make a search party,and the ‘valiant’ forces used them as a bait whenever they entered a new house.We were taken away from our home,for a ‘special treatment’,and I remember how we all were, men ,women and children alike,made to parade in front of eager mititary personnel.I recall my aunt,who had a 5 day old baby in her lap,pleading to army men when they beat his husband,my uncle,to pulp.It was a day of horror.My grandfather wasn’t spared even.They choked him by putting a sweater down his throat.He just survived.
As the sun made it’s decending journey, more and more ‘defence officials’ reached the spot to kill a bunch of rebels,hiding in my ‘Laal Makan'(They called it so,because it was painted red)
After a day long search,the cordon was called off,and the mission was declared a failure,for they couldn’t find any rebels anywhere.How could have they found them,when they just didn’t exist?
We were allowed to return to our homes,but wait…It was not the same home we had left early morning.It presented such a disturbing view,as if earthquakes had shaken it,and floods eroded it.The walls were no more,doors were pulled out,windows were out of place,mats were recovered miles away,clothes were hanging on nearby trees,trunks were left empty.People from nearby villages came to help us assemble what was scattered all around.It took us days together to understand what had just happened.I remember those wailings,those cries,those echoes.It is all in my mind,it is all fresh,though I am writing it after 15 years of the incident.Our newly built house was ruined,and with it all our dreams.I remember people around reporting the loss of jewellery, cash and other expensives…We were looted.It was a fake encounter,aimed at looting our village,I understand now.
Meanwhile,I remember how all the stock in the house had all of a sudden exhausted and relatives coming with bags of sugar,tea,and all.
It was Eid tomorrow,the day of celebrations and joy.But it took years for us to believe in joy,and happiness again.My uncle was released after few days.He still carries those torture marks.My grandfather never recovered after that episode.And my house didn’t get a varnish ever since.It has same colours.The same haunting red.We recently filled the holes,ruminants of bullet marks,but never afforded to colour it again!
I feel relieved after jotting it down,as I carried this story for so long.15 years is a way too long.
We were not broken though.It is just a reminder of a greater curse we are through.We are alive and surving.We are Kashmiris!!
Compiled By :
Treading along the path that leaves made
Dried of all their life,looted of their colours
They made it crispy every step
As if kids were breaking some empty nuts
Their bruised show didn’t move me
Nor their cries did I choose to hear
Their raped glory didn’t melt my heart
And I didn’t feel to pray for them!
How can I be so ruthless
With all my emotions
And not even try to feel for them
When all around mourn their fate!
See,I recall their pride,their vanity
When they donned their mother tree
They waved with pride in morning zephyr
When spring and summer was all for them
They never believed in their own fall
Their vision was so narrow and small
They are now under my own feet
Their fate now did they meet!!
As every rise has a fall
We know it now,we know it all
Let we be in our state
And allign ourselves to greater fate
Let joy may not consume us
And sorrow not must fume us
Let our smiles have broad curve
To greater world we greater serve
Let we not be trampled ever
And of pride we be never ever!!
Compiled By :
Photo Credits :
(Dedicated to all sisters who are there in the gardens of knowledge)
This breeze passed by my garden
Spring was there to greet us
Flowers had some smiles
And this earth smelled now fresh
It was joy,It really was!
My mom didn’t feel that great
For she knew a greater fate
Her daughter is a butterfly
Who leaves home when spring comes
Butterfly is gone now
Sucking the nectar of knowledge
Her garden is so beautiful
Her friends take her care too!!
But mother isn’t the same way
Her garden is so empty
She feels as if no one is around
When there are we all, and so many
Her daughter is her secret bin
She is her dearest friend
She hugs her every pain
And wishes to do,same till end…
Butterflies are made for garden
Yet they are the ‘nuur’ of their eyes
A mother devours her heart even
For the sake of beauty,sake of garden
Mom is silent in her pain
I can’t dare to console her
Her smiles are locked,we all feel
For keys are but with butterfly…
I don’t know what to pray for?
Should I pray for autumn now
Butterfly will come then home
And return my mom’s smile
Or should I keep with this day
And see my mom all ache everyday
This pain seems consuming her
And all that she is made of!!
Then I asked my mother
About all what I just thought!
She gave me a pretty smile
That just set me on turmoil!
I am not in pain,dear
I am happy that you are near
My butterfly is near too
She pointed towards her heart!
I am mother,I am pains not in pain
I am higher than mountain peaks
I am deeper than oceans
I am mother,I am pains not in pain!
I didn’t understand what she just said
For it was smiles now and pain too
Her butterfly will return someday
And tell me what my mom said!
For she is one who understands
Her every word and every hint
Butterflies are for gardens
And mothers are for butterflies!!
Compiled By :
Tell him to wake up please
Who’ll rub my tears off?
Who’ll even dare to appease?
Are you listening,
Why aren’t you…
These tears mine are for you!!
You didn’t say me I’ll go
Did you hate me that much?
Who’ll listen to my songs?
Whose heart my words will touch?
Are you there?
Why aren’t you…
These tears mine are for you!!
Compiled By :
Photo Credits :