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Showing posts with label Honour. Show all posts

Danyal Zafar - THE CARRIAGE OF KNOWLEDGE



My dearest Danyal

As elders, our natural instinct is to want to protect our kids; we aim to take care of them, we imagine that without anchoring them they might waver in life. As time winds down, the realisation dawns that when your children have grown up, the first thing you do is stop telling them what to do – not because they would oppose you – but simply because by stepping aside on tiptoe, you can observe them etch a forte for themselves where they would be a role model for the rest of the world to idolise upon.

The day I watched you spread your wings my dear Danny, I grasped that it was my time to tiptoe and observe, from afar, how humanity was taking to you quite like iron takes to a magnet. I found myself finding such rapture in your eminence, and it was not something that I could express via any medium: art or words. It was a feeling that an elder brother felt for his younger brother, and it was a feeling that I would want gone with me when I cease to breathe, embedded and buried deep within my heart.

However, when the world is shrouded in mist, and the atmosphere is so bloody that only the stupid are fairly untouched, whilst the sensitive wither like a bug-befouled leaf, my chest rather swells with honour when I see light at the end of the tunnel because of you my Kidd, or do I even entitle you that, because you are now an admirable young man who has acquired such a secure grasp on how to shape civilisation just by being yourself, that calling you a Kidd would be most violating that very essence, although, the fact does remain that regardless of how older you grow, you will still remain, in my heart and soul, my little Kidd . . . my little Danny. And as severe as this may sound, this is also precisely why I am rest assured that even if I were to die, my greatest treasure, you, would be the beacon who would manoeuvre the mislead to the zenith of peace and harmony that they most rightfully need to find themselves in, for god knows that the world needs a healer, and most urgently.


Thus my Dan, a man with such a gifted ability and influence to make a dent, remember that when I close my eyes never to wake up again, live so that your very presence would have made all the difference to mankind. Commit to memory that your alluring lips must speak words of kindness. Your lovely eyes ought to pursue the good in people. For an athletic structure, share your food with the hungry. For beautiful hair, let a child run his fingers through it at least once in a day. For carriage, walk with the knowledge that you will never walk alone. Remember that whether we elders are there with you or not, we leave you a tradition with a future that you will try your best to the tender loving care of human beings, and you will strive that it will never become obsolete. That you will keep in mind that it is not things, but people even more than anything, that have to be restored, renewed, revived, reclaimed and redeemed. Be mindful that these very people will displease you to such irksome levels, whereby you may desire to toss them before the guillotine, yet, never toss anybody out, for everyone who traverses your course does so in order to teach you something of value. Most important of all, bear in mind that if you ever need a helping hand, you must find one at the end of your arm, and the other one, you must use for helping others, always.  

While I wish you the best of everything in life and nothing more my Danny, do not think me callous when I say that I would also like that at different walks of life for you to experience defeat, suffering, struggle, loss – it is these occurrences and their responses, laterally with delight and humour that are rather responsible to provide you a way to find your way out of the depths of delirium. It is these encounters that will help inculcate in you an appreciation, sensitivity, and an understanding of life that would fill you with compassion, gentleness, and a deep loving concern. Beautiful people do not just happen, the trials and tribulations of life make them what they are.

I am infinitely thankful that you exist, my Dan. Now go along and mend the world. It is indeed your forecourt.

In deed and thought
I remain
Your very own
– Farahdeen  


PS: I know, I know, I vowed I would step away and watch quietly, and even then I ended up giving you the longest lecture in the world. For that you officially have the freedom hereon to hold a gun to my temple and pull the trigger (as swiftly and painlessly as possible), as I mouth the last words – But, my Kidd, old habits die-hard, so do I really deserve this? 



Photographs by Izzah Shaheen Malik

Imran Abbas Naqvi – Qandeel


Sharing words by my brother whom every man and woman, regardless of country of origin ought to let sink in and ruminate upon.


"Yes, it was a very very sad day. Call me over emotional or whatever, but the murder of this poor girl was extremely shocking. I realised that a few people, although we don’t know them personally, become a part of your life through their existence, by their constant presence, and Qandeel was one of them.

The brutal murder of this young girl who ran after her dreams to get rid of poverty, who found her own ways to get noticed through her limited resources (although they were vulgar and not what people in our society approve of), who unveiled the real face of so called religious scholars was not at all justified in the name of honour! 


YET, who are we to judge anyone just because of how someone acts in public? Who knows what others, even we, are doing in the veil of darkness?

Pakistan, the nation, which scored the highest in searching for porn sites at Google can only kill women in the name of honour, but the throng of vultures who had surrounded her body when she was alive and made use of her are now left alone simply because they are MEN.
 

This girl could have gotten away if she was from a well-connected background and had her own links to the people in power. But her real crime was POVERTY, which made her see those dazzling dreams and took her to this point where she was strangled by a so called “gheratmand” who even took her cell phone and little cash, which was, according to this “gheratmand society” her “haraam ki kamaayi”.

Disgraceful of humans! Deplorable of humanity!"

Imran Abbas
Saturday 16th July 2016


My brother then followed it up by - 

"Things become a story of the past, and so soon. This quick change and impermanence of life actually perplexes me at times. A few days back a girl emerged in social media, became a talk of the town, she was cursed, humiliated, verbally abused, scoffed, looked down upon with contempt by the social and the electronic media, but she never stopped, and she defied all our social norms. Then, one day, she was murdered, and now, even that headline is getting stale. Life is like that – temporary, impermanent and so quickly evaporable. Alas!!!! It’s sad but true.

Waqt chalta hi rehta hai rukta nahi, aik pal mein ye aagay nikal jaata hai
Aadmi theek se dekh paata nahi aur parday se manzar badal jaata hai
Ik baar chalay jaatay hain jo din raat subha sham
Wo phir nahi aatay
Wo phir nahi aatay".

Imran Abbas
Sunday 24th July 2016

Albert Camus And Ali Zafar - Similar Minds Different Times



The Century of Fear was an article published in Combat in 1948 by Albert Camus and he said –

“The years we have just gone through have killed something in us. And that something is the old confidence man had in himself, which always led him to believe that he could elicit human reactions from another man if he spoke to him in the language of humanity. We have seen men lie, degrade, kill, deport, torture - and each time it was not possible to persuade those who did these things not to do them, because they were sure of themselves and because one cannot persuade an abstraction, i.e., the representative of an ideology. Mankind’s dialogue has just come to an end. And, naturally, a man who can’t be persuaded is a man to be feared”.

The year is 2016. The world is in utter disarray. As much as people are sure of themselves, they are also unsure, not so much because of anything in particular, but mainly due to their negligence as it is no secret that man is entirely responsible for his own ignorance. If Albert Camus had said what he had to say in those words way back then about humanity, my younger brother Ali Zafar has said more, and in words much fewer on the existing atrophic methods of the world. While Camus is Camus, our Ali is Ali, and while Camus shaped the time he lived in, our Ali is shaping the time he is living in.

In Defence of Honour was an anecdote that was published on Saturday 2:52 PM – 16th Jul 2016 on Twitter by Ali Zafar

“If women started killing us to protect their honour, a lot of us would be dead!”