mera jee chahta hay k jb main subha bahar nikloon tu Kashmir Highway tk jatay jatay rastay main barf bari hona shuru ho jaye. main Kashmir Highway tk puhnch jaoon. aur barfbari aur tez ho jaye. itni k meray qadam na uthain. sab kuch ruk jaye. barf parti rhay parti rhay, sab kuch white ho jaye, meray black shoes, black coat, black scarf sab white ho jaye. kal record barf parray... kam az kam 5ft 4in.

Be of Gold

Its been since my childhood when I was in Primary School my mother used to say these words many times. (I will try to translate it so that its essence may not get fainted).
 She always used to say "If you keep saying "ban sona, ban sona, ban sona" be of gold!, be of gold!, be of gold! only then it is possible to turn any element into gold. But if you say only once "ban ruppa" be a trash!, it will take no time to turn into a trash. This is how your character is." She advised us, "My children, character needs to be protected, polished, maintained, and nourished with the food of good thoughts. Keep reminding yourself you have to be of gold and keep putting your effort into it and one day you will be. But if you forget this only once and you just try to be a crap, you will see you will become so!"

NUST, Islamabad

"escaping is not a solution"

Almost five years back I was told by a chef in Italy, when I reached there after a long tiriring journey in steel ship that it won't help me. It was really a tough and bold step by me. But before I could have relaxed myself in new accommodation he arrived. He in his red uniform and black high chef cap. How can I forget him and his comments. He told me escaping is not a solution. Travelling to the farthest place in the world wouldn't help. The problem is within myself. Which I carry on wherever I go. So even if I have travelled to Rome I will stay restless.

Sobia Ehsan

Mehrbaan

ik  gunah  mera  maa- pay wekhay; tey deway daes nikala
lakh gunah mera Allah wekhay; tey O parday pawan wala

maa-pay; parents
wekhay: watch
daes nikala: unhouse
lakh; hundred thousand
parday pawan wala: one who cover

Zindagi _ Lamha ba Lamha

"Chamakti aankhain...
Muskuratay chehray...
Ulfatein'
Qurbatein.."

mehz chand talkh lehjay

"JudaiiaN
Nafratein,
bheegtay chehray,
udaas aankhein"

Nov. 2013

Dreams are not just an illusion. They make suffer those even more who believe in truthfulness of their dreams. Dreaming is a clue, a possibility, an idea, a “may be”, a wish leading to become a desire. But sometimes it is not all that. Sometimes it is only, “God, please don’t!” the goodness or badness of dreams depends upon how close it is to one’s desire. 
Desires are life. Desiring something/ anything gives life a theme, a meaning, a way to act, an objective to achieve and ultimately the key of one’s’ happiness. Every being on the face of earth is set to desire something big, good, bold and meaningful regardless of people thinking their desires little, insignificant, coward and useless. The only thing that matters is how fast you hold them. (Just thinking of a reoccurring dream)

Judai

agr koi
aap ki moat pr
ro ro kr
thak chuka ho
tu
izzat e nafs ka taqaza ye hay
k aap mar jaien
kum az kum
us k liay
jo aap ki
judai seh gya hay.

Sea

Talash e Gumshuda

2007, Ramadan ka pehla roza, aur nai nai nokri .... qareeban 6 saal pehlay kia baat hy. lekin jb yaad aye tu youn jesay kal ki baat ho. training se wapsi k liay IBA ki building se nikli aur paisay nikalnay k liay bag khola, buhat talash kia mgr siwaye 10 rupees k aur kuch maal-e-ghaneemat br-aamad na ho ska. wallet tu main ghar bhool i thi. aur choonkay subha ko ghar walay drop krtay thay is liay mujhy sara din is baat ka ehsas nai hua k meray pas paisay nahin hain. aur agar ho bhi jata tu bhi shayad yehi hota jo hua. ye bhe buhat hain, mainay andaza lgaya. main itnay paison main do tehai rasta tay kr loongi. mainay socha aur chal pari. 10 minute ki walk k bad public transport pr ghar se qareeban qareeban 2 km k faslay pr utri aur paidal chalnay lagi. garmi aur rozay ki sakhti ki thakan tu thi he magar shamat-e-amaal ye k chaltay sath he joota toot gya. un dino meray bag main hr wqt hr trha ki stationary dastyab hoti thi. so mainay paper tape se joota jora aur phir chal pari. magar wo ziada dair nahi chla. kuch door aik mochi betha tha. mainay usay joota pkraya aur sath he usay kaha k paisay main kal doongi. pta nahi usay meri bat ka yaqeen aya, ya meri shakal pr tars us ne mera joota murammat kia aur kaha 5 rupay. mainay kaha k kal doongi. wo kuch nai bola, main aa gayi.

.... aglay din, aur kai din main roz subha office aatay jatay huay sochti k aaj mainay uskay paisay wapis krnay hain. mgr mujhy nai pta k sirf apni susti ki waja say, ya ghar walon k samnay jhijak ki waja se main kabhi us mochi k paas gaari nahi rukwa ski. ghar se nikaltay waqt purse main se nikal k wo panch rupay main hath main pakar leti aur jab mochi ka khokha guzar jata tu wapis bag main daal leti. shayad aik hafta younhi guzar gya...ya shayd do hftay....main roz usay dekhti thi. aur kehti thi acha kal doongi aur khamoshi se wahan se guzar jati.

us din wapsi pr wo wahan nahi tha. sirf wohi nahi, balkay wahan pr mojood hr trha k ghair qanooni tajawuzat, khokhay walon aur thelay walon ka sfaya krwaya ja chuka tha. sarak ki tameer o muramat shuru ho chuki thi. janay walay apna naam o nishan tak nahi chor k gaye.

mujhy wo kabhi dobara nazar nahi aya. aur wo paanch rupay meray purse mein hmesha k liay bojh ban gaye. phir mainay is bojh se chutkara panay ka tareeqa dhoonda. main 5 rupay denay lagi.. kaffara, sadqa, khairat, qarz ye dena kisi bhi category main nahi aata. krtay krtay 5 rupay 10 main tabdeel ho gaye lekin na bojh kam hua na talash. 

main aaj bhi wahan se guzarti hoon tu be ikhtayar daien janib dekhti rehti hoon jahan wo betha krta tha. har trha ki ghair qanooni tajawuzat dobara ho chuki hain, dukano k bahar sabzi walay, rang rez, naai sb he aik aik kr k loat aye hain. aik nahi aaya tu wo jis ne mera joota theek kr k dia tha aur jis ka mujh pr qarz tha.. aur hay.

Lahore

The ego says,"I shouldn't have to suffer", and that thought makes you suffer so much more.

It is distortion of the truth which is always paradoxical.

The truth is that you need to say YES to suffering before you can transcend it. 

Excerpted

Sob-phobia (A nightmare) Part II

I am unable to recall exact details of her physical appearance, even if I want to do so at this hour of night. The only thing I am able to recollect about how she looked like is her dark complexion and negroid features. However, I can definitely say that it was she who came here just a few minutes ago.

Fully exhausted out of my 16hrs hectic work routine, I fell asleep as soon as I fell on my bed. It was rightly then she entered the room barefooted, sobbing slightly and without making noise. Her sniffling made me awake. I was astonished by her presence just by my bedside. She was holding her right hand’s index finger in her left hand. She had a cut on her finger which was bleeding. I rushed toward her. I couldn’t think of any better option to give her instant relief rather I put her finger in my mouth and softly cleansed it with my tongue. The blood was stopped. I was sitting still on my bed with my left leg hanging and right one curled on bed. I was holding her hand and she was bent forward over her knees. I examined the cut and later her appearance. She was bright and dull same time. She was continuously crying. “Now what’s the issue?” I stared her without saying anything verbally. I could see her eyes full of tears. “Marry me”, she lowered her gaze as she spoke and tears dropped on our hands. "You are totally sick", I pushed her hand away hardly, rejecting her proposal. She couldn’t resist this hit, her head touched the floor. She stopped crying at once. Worriedly, I had to stand up to pull her up. When I came closer to her I saw flow of blood coming out of her neck. In no time I fixed my mouth on her neck to wipe away the blood.

For few minutes I continued sucking her blood and then I realized the grip of her hands over my wrist has loosened. I placed my hand under her nose to check if she is breathing, and yes she was breathing. I asked her to leave immediately. I helped her to drag her out of my place and came back into my quilt.

Now, as she has left and there is no mark left anywhere of her visit, I don’t know why I am afraid of her come back. I am fraying my lips against my sleeves repeatedly and unconsciously. I swear I didn’t kill her; she was alive when she left, I am telling myself. I didn’t harm her anyway, it was she who came to me with her injury and I just wanted to assuage her pain. I wonder how can she get access to this place or maybe it was just a nightmare because I skipped my night prayer.


September 13, 2013
Friday 2.30pm
Lahore

I want to walk towards you

I want to walk towards you,
And just love you.
But that's impossible because
Sins of the past have left
More scars than they healed.

So even though I love you
I can't be with you,
And even though your love is my drug
I have to stop this addiction before it starts.

And now my tears
Have turned to ink,
and the tears that fall down
on paper form these words,

I love you,
but I'm scared of having you.

First Meeting

“Sobia Ehsan!”

(Attentively) “Yes, Sir”.
“Sobia, PhD krtay krtay log boorhay ho jatay hain!!! (like warning)”
“wo tu wesay bhi ho jatay hain (light-heartedly)”
“hotay hain, lekin PhD krnay walay ziada jaldi boorhay ho jatay hain”
“(sigh) aur main bhi buhat jaldi main hoon”
"Hahahaha"….. an unrestrained laughter filled the room.


This was my first face to face meeting with my mentor instead of a formal greeting, while I entered his office, today.

Sobia Ehsan
September 10, 2013
Gad and Birgit Rausing Library, LUMS
Lahore

Behadd

Buhat nazdeek ho jana bhi shakhsiyat ko masakh kr deta hay. thora fasla tu rehna chahiay darmiyan main.
Ta k hawa ka rasta na bund ho, aur sans lenay main takleef na ho. Amoomun hota bhi yehi hay, jb qurbatain buhat barh jati hain tu ghuttan ka ehsas honay lagta hay, aur phir yeh ghuttan barhti he chali jati hay. yahan tak k dum ghutt he jata hay. taluq koi bhi ho, rishta nata chahay dost ehbab ka ho ya muhabbat ka, zimma dari ka ya hamdardi ka, shukar guzari ka ya ihsan ka aitadal rakhna buhat zaroori hay. Aik had ko qaim rakhna aur apnay dairay main rehna he aik daer paa aur mazboot rishtay ki asaas hay.
Jb hum doston k sath waqt guzartay hain, mehboob k naaz uthatay hain, apnay faraiz ko poora krnay ki fikr main lagay rehtay hain, kisi k dukhoN k madaway ki fikr main ghulay jatain hain, kisi ki ihsan mandi main jhukay chalay jatay hain, ya kisi pr inayat krtay hain, tu ye sb tu aik sehtmand zindagi ki ilamaat hain. Ghalat tu yeh bhe nahi k hm in sb kaar-e-khair main se kisi aik ka intekhab kr letay hain. mushkil tu us waqt hoti hay jb hum sb drwazay, khirkian bnd kr detay hian. aur sirf aik rahdari khuli rakhtay hain, sirf aik shakhs k liay sari tawaja, muhabbat, zimmadari aur inayaat ka haqdar sirf usi ko smjhtay hain. aur baqi sb se be nayaz ho jatay hain. phir jb wo hmaray liay khas ho jata hay tub kahin ja k ehsas hota hay k hm aik maddar main dakhil ho chukay hain aur wo hmaray maddar ka sooraj hay. wo khas ho gya hay, kion k wo tu sooraj hay aur hum khud aam hain is liay k hum tu us k gird chakkar kaat rhay hain.
ye jo hmari anaa hoti hay na, ziada daer ye baat gawara nai krti, insaan ki main ziada daer soi nahi re skti. kion k ye fitri amal hay insan ko khaas hona acha lgta hay lekin masala ye nahi hay. masala tu yeh hay, k hum chahtay hain k hum bhi us aik shakhs k liay khas hoN jis ko hum ne itni ahmiat day rakhi hay. tu darasal ye wo Tawaqqa hay jis k liay insan itni tag-o-do krta phirta hay. jb insan ki ye tawaaqqa poori nahi hoti, uski ana ko thes lagti hay tu ghuttan paida hoti hay, ya tu ailaan e jang hota hay aur baghawat janam leti hay, aur ya phir bebasi jan leva ho jati hay
main agr ab yeh kahoon k tawaqqa lagani he nahi chahiay tu kitabi hisab se tu ye baat so feesad darust hay, lekin aesa kesay ho k hum apnay driver ko zakat k paisay bhi dain aur jb wo btaye bagher chutti kr lay tu
hamain ghussa bhi na aye?
Shakhsiat k poday ko phalnay phoolnay k liay space darkar hoti hay, aur wo space hr insan ka bunyadi haq hy. kisi shohar ko is bat ka haq nahi hay k wo apni bv pr itna havi ho k wo bechari apna aap he bhool jaye. aap kitna arsa kisi pr apna zor chala sktay hain? aap ki taqat sari zindagi tu apka sath nahi de g na. kia waldain ko Khudaye pak ne ye haq dia hay k wo apnay bachon se un k khwab cheen lain? aik daira kar hay mazhab ka, aur wo hr chotay baray, mard aurat sab k liay hay. sb ne usi ko maan-na hay, wo he aik hadd hay jo her kisi na jaiz "behadd" ko rokti hay. Lekin hum sb ko yeh baat jan.nay ki zaroorat hay k hm sb aik doosray se mukhtalif ho sktay hain, hmaray mizaj, hmari pasand, na pasand, hmaray okat-ekar, hmaray passion agar aik doosray se mukhtalif hain tu iska matlab yeh nahi k hmaray illawa hr bnda ghalat hay.
logon ko us trha apnana chahiay jis trha wo hain, un se un k rung na cheenay jaien. aap ziada muhabbat na dain, thori daen, magar sb ko dain, titli apnay rungoN k sath baghon mein he achi lagti hay. pinjray main palnay wala sher bhi kuch arsay bad kutta ho jata hay. muhabbat bhi azadi jesa aik ehsas hay, issay mehsoos honay dain.
Shukriya

Lahore

Alvida

Kabhi kabhi hmain lgta hay k hum itna ro chukay hain k ab ankhain khushk ho gayi hain, hum ne itnay dukh jhailay hain k ab is bara dukh koi aur ho nahi skta, hum wo kuch kho chukay hain k ab khonay ko kuch nahi raha, wo qayamat jo hm pr toot chuki hay us say bara saneha koi aur ho nahi skta- aik azmaish jo hum pr guzri hay bas wohi mushkil tareen gharri thi.

Lekin haqeeqat yeh hay k hr nia hadsa chahay chotta ho ya bara pichlay hadsay se jurra hua hay, hmari ankhain jitni bhi khushk ho chuki hon, aur dil jitnay bhi pathar ho chukay hon, hum phir ro partay hain aur hum phir toot jatay hain.

Dil bar-haa ehd kray k ab kisi se wabsta nahi ho ga, lekin hum tawaqqaat wabsta kr beth-tay hain. lakh bar khud ko mazboot krain k hmain ab koi faraq nahi parta koi umeed tootnay say lekin faraq par he jata hay. ain mumkin hay bicharnay walay ko sb hansi khushi vida krain, mgr tanhai main insan kamzor par he jata hay, aur ansoooN ka bund toot he jata hay.

Islamabad

Flash back of a golden time

Going through my B.Com Accounting notes and books, as I was preparing for a lecture, I have found this piece of lecture. This is not just a piece of advice but for me its a chain of memories containing so many faces. It has taken me almost 10 years back. "Ten years" as it dates as 25th June 2003. Ohh my God!!! I mean seriously, quite long time ago I was doing my graduation. It has made me to recall one of the warmest afternoon of the season when I entered a classroom so crowded that there was not even an inch to step in. I with my friends made my space near the door just infront of the rostrum. It took me few minutes to understand that it was not a routine accounting lecture. It was something nobody was trying to copy from the board. There was pin drop silence in the class. The mentor (some of you may disagree with terming him as mentor) didnt take a break in his lecture while we adjusted ourselves in the class. It was so rushy that I found no time to take my notebook out of my satchel. So I started writing on my accounting book. He was a medium heighted, fair complexion man with beard, in his late forties age. I can recall his strident voice. He was saying,

"...... bachay zindagi mein ehsas krna seekho. log aik waqt tak apka ehsas krain gay is k bad ye sb tumhian chor jaien gay. lakh cheekho, chillao, madad k liay pukaro magar koi nahi sunay ga. waldain aik waqt tak bachon ka sath de sktay hain, tamam umr wo tumhara hath pakar kr tumhain nahi chla sktay. aik na aik din tu tumhian khud apnay qadmon pr khra ho kr khud chalna he ho ga. tu aaj se kion nahi? hamesha yad rakhna zindagi ki jang hmesha insan ko apnay zor-e-bazoo pr larni parti hay. koi kisi ka sath nai deta. aik do martaba larai kr k dekho, tamash been buhat ikathay ho jaeingay, magar tumharay liay koi nahi laray ga. tumhain apnay liay khud larna ho ga.

Field koi bhi ho, insan baghair mehnat k kuch b nahi kr skta, wo chahay auto mechanic ho, engineer, doctor ya koi business man..... mehnat krna seekh lo aur mehnat ki adat dal lo. is liay k baghair mehnat k naam nahi kamaya ja skta. aakhir ko socho k hum ye kion kehtay hain k flaN doctor say ilaj krwana hay, ya flaN ki dukan se cheez leni hay is liay k unhon ne apnay wqt pr mehnat ki aur naam bnaya, aur yehi waja hay k aaj woh zindagi ko enjoy kr rhay hain. 

Ghareeb k bachon ko tu wesay bhi buhat parhna chahiay kion k us k pas tu koi doosra rasta bhi nahi hota. haan. agar tu walden ne itna kama lia hay k bachay na bhi kuch krain tu b saari zindagi aish kraingay tu phir choice aapki hay.

Lekin aap log, aap sb, dhyan main rakhna, aap log is stage pr ho k zindagi main ab mehnat na ki tu kahin k nahi raho gay. kuch bhi nahi kr paao gay. kion k is stage pr fail honay wala kuch kr he nai skta. mehnat aaj se start kr dain. koi waja nahi hay k nakami aapka rasta rokay. meri smjh se bahar hay k aik student mehnat k bawjood kamyab na ho. IMPOSSIBLE!! ho he nahi skta, mehnat krain, parhain, phir exams k baad meray paas aana k mainay itni mehnat ki thi aur mera result ye raha. InshaAllah jitni mehnat kro gay wesa he phal pao gay"

Once the speech was over students rushed towards doors. I was standing near the rostrum, he came toward me and said, "teachers class mein sb bachoN ko aik jesa parhatay hain" he continued in his same grave accent, "lekin, result buhat kam bachoN se expect krtay hain, aur meray liay tum un mein se aik ho".

Ten years have passed and I am trying to keep his words and those of many others who thought very high for me and wanted me to do something big.

May Allah give me stamina and dedication to fulfill my committments. Amen

Lahore

Iftar at a Bestie's

As soon as I saw her lifting her hands for prayer, I asked her to pray for me as well.
She ended her silent supplications and turned to me. "What do you want me to ask for you?", she asked with a wink. "Forgiveness", I uttered with a sigh, "ask Allah Jee to pardon me". She seemed to remain sarcastic. "And whom you have had raped? So!" "Myself", I lowered my head trying to conceal my tears. "Hahahaa", I could hear her laughter " this is what most of we people do in our life". I wanted to tell her that it is something different. But I know I can never explain this to anybody.

27th Ramadan, 1434
Johar Town, Lahore

Ramblings

She has just left the room and I have switched off lights and slipped in my bed. I am enough tired of the travelling but I know I wouldn't be able to catch my sleep. I reached the hostel in evening. I had much time to relax, had dinner and asked her to make tea.
We both have loquacious nature. Usually on such reunions we both try to get the opportunity to tell the story first. Since last three hours she has been telling me the details of what happened to her when I wasn't here. She must had realized my taciturnity earlier but she didn't highlighted it. Once she passed me my cup of tea she said, "missing home?". I spontaneously replied, "no, not". "Then whom?", she asked. "Not missing anybody but tired", I answered. She said, "OK". I can feel that she wasn't convinced. Our conversation ended. With this silence melancholy of one being surrounded everything around within seconds. She hardly had the last sip of her tea and said, "good night".
This is how I am, making simple things complicated, altering easy truths into hard lies, keeping my feelings confidential, fighting all time with myself to portray myself someone else. Later regretting that why i did so. Why do I keep my treasures unshared. What if I would tell her that I am missing not only someone but everyone.
The act of missing is like dis entwining the thread from a bobbin. One end of a thread tied with something if the bobbin drops from the hand one knows not how far it will go rolling on the floor. Sometimes when you try to stop it, it strikes away unwinding the thread more and more.
When I am writing this, I have travelled much in my mind from one person to another, from one memory to another, from one dream to the next searching that whom I am actually missing.
This search is painful, the memories of the past, the good ones and the worse are filled with many faces, the faces I want to get back and the faces I want to be with and the faces I want to forget.
Yes, I miss you, and I miss them too. But this is not the end of my search.
That is for whom I miss the most -myself.

Islamabad

Fa Sabrun Jameel

wesay tu her waqt aur her kam k doraan mere zehn k pas e parda aik he manzar gardish krta rehta hay lekin namaz k bad, dua main, aur sonay se pehlay wohi manzar ankhoN k samnay aa jata hay. kabhi koi baat aur kabhi koi aur magar wohi. 

un ka is tarha chalay jana hmaray darmiyan se. phir neend kesay aye. buhat daer wohi film kabhi maazi ki yaad aur kabhi aik mustaqil kami k sath mustaqbil ki aik tasveer. main ankhain band kr k leti he thi k achanak youn mehsoos hua k kisi ne sir se aasmaan he khainch lia preshani main uth bethi tu laga k paoN k neechay zameen bhi nahi hay. 

maan baap aulad k liay kia hota hain, pehlay pta nahi chalta. jb nahi rehtay tu ehsas hota hay. woh tu chalay jatay hain sukhi ho jatay hain mgr hum kia kho beth'tay hain tab samajh ata hay.

main yahan aati hoon tu mujhay lagta hay k kuch kami hay, mujhy ghar jana chahiay. ghar jati hoon tu bhi adhoora pan, aik khlaa. youn lagta hay jesay main aik shuttlecock hoon. na yahan tik skti hoon na wahan.

kabhi mujhay un k phone ka intezar hota hay k wo phone pr mujhay smjhaien gay mujhay motivate kraingay mgr jb khud ko smjhati hoon k koi phone nahi aana tu........

kitni kasak hay dil main k mujhy koi khidmat ka moqa he nai mila. kitni aasani se khud ko minus kr lia unhon nay k kisi ka ehsan na uthana paray, kisi ko taklif na ho. mainay tu kabhi unhain ye b nai btaya k main un se kitna piyar krti hoon. mainay un ko btana tha k main un pr kitna maan krti hoon k wo mujh pr fakhar krtay hain. wo mera ideal thay ab realise hua hay. buhat daer baad.

jb wo chalay gaye mainay khud ko smjhaya k hum sb ne marna hay. aur hum aakhir main jannat main milain gay. lekin ye intezar itna kathan itna lamba ho ga ye tu smjh he nahi aya.

hum kb maraingay, hum kab ikathay hongay?

Fa sabrun Jameel

June 12, 2013

Fatima Hostel

NUST

Islamabad

Windstorms

You are the wind
and the glass pane
of my window is broken.

I am the wind
and the glass pane
of your window is broken too.



Sobia Ehsan
NUST, H-12, Islamabad.

In the name of State Saviours

Melancholy prevails all around. Political uncertainty and security issues remain big question at time. On one hand we have around hundred killed in Quetta, still unburied after more than 72 hours of their death and on the other hand, the so called patriotic Islamists are preparing for a march to "rescue the state, not the politics".

A friend has told me about recent fight on the line of control bringing in causalities on both ends India and Pakistan.

I am not much into the politics. I am just an ordinary Pakistani citizen usually concerned about my job, daily livings and family obligations only. I am the one who like many others hear the news of such genocide ranging the death toll tens to hundreds and become sad. At times, I definitely plea Almighty Allah to have mercy on Pakistan or question myself, "for how long this will continue?" but I never get enough time to seriously get involved in it that how can we do something to stop it because I have my own list of issues to get resolved first. I am already bothered by CNG/petrol shortages, rising inflation (esp. grocery), paying utility bills, going office in time and trying hard to maintain zero deficit domestic budget. Such violence issues remain highlighted in my mind only as they remain media highlights. Abusing the government secretly and sometimes openly in my circle is my first and far most reaction.

Receiving birthday wishes from loved ones, I am unable to feel the joy. I am badly stuck with a question. Whom to blame for all such circumstances, the govt., the politicians, the nation, or the external forces?

And yes, here my heart whispers, "blame your own self!"

"Blame myself?" I ask. "Yes, you!" it says, "you are the one among all others who feed them, protect them, shelter them to use the authority they way they want to". “you the intellectuals of this country” it continues, “wedged in the vicious circle of earning, keeping yourself away from political filth, accepting all sorts of impositions, loots, violence, restrictions, and suppression! You are the biggest threat to Pakistan".

I am almost speechless. I am wondering, “Really, am I a threat to Pakistan?”

“AM I?”


13-01-2013
NUST H-12, Islamabad