Sitar & Tabla

They say, everything in the universe communicates. Every entity has an inherent need to express. In some species, the need is higher than in the rest. Humans, compelled by their need to express, created languages. 

7 billion of us today, collectively speak 6,800 languages on this 4.54 billion years old planet Earth. 

As much as there is a need for humans to express themselves; the souls within are the greatest listeners too. Mostly, not to the 6,800 languages spoken in the world today. But, to the unspoken master expressions of the universe and its entities. 

En route soul searching, one is bound to stumble across a nature's language that speaks out the heart and soul of the person. Many souls feel themselves talking to the rain, while many warm up to the sunshine. Then there are those who look up and wink at the stars; while some of us are still lost trying to find the language of our soul in the worldly affairs. 

In the midst of all, one of the most powerful languages is the language of a musical instrument. From guitar to drum to piano to flute sitar and tabla. All seem to be expressing emotions in different languages. 

Such is the conversation often reflected beautifully when tabla and sitar interact. They talk. They mingle. Often a times, relentlessly. And at some waves, overpowering each other with their constant conversation, they stimulate an aura. They trigger the sensations and generate a conversation. They speak to the Soul. They let your thoughts dance; while carving creativity through conflict. 

Their intensity of interaction can often a times is misinterpreted as their conflict to rule over each other. Yet, their peaceful notes reflect the most harmonious message in an unspoken manner. Sitar weaves patterns of complicated thoughts, as if, taking a thread of idea here, mingling it with a thread of idea there, and entangling the thoughts in a knot.  The tabla either intensifies or calms the process. The sitar respectfully quiets out, letting the tabla take charge while it patiently waits to impatiently intervene and weave the pattern together. 

We all express in different ways, resulting in 7 billion different languages in the world. From shooting a man to sharing a drink, all are languages of thought expression. 

Our thoughts often, find themselves entangled into another human's pattern of thoughts and ideas; giving birth to what we call a Conflict.

When sitar and tabla can peacefully co-exist; when every entity in the universe while expressing itself in its language can perfectly exist in the realms of Universe;

Then, why can't 7 billion talking in 7 billion languages of expression and 6,800 literal languages learn to peacefully co-exist while retaining their own unique language. 

Miss you Sibte Jaffar Chacha

Original Post: http://blogs.tribune.com.pk/story/16583/they-killed-my-chacha-sibte-jafar-but-they-cannot-kill-his-memory/#comments

But since, I really want this to be on my blog..For so many of my thoughts, my ideas, my concepts, my theories, my observations, my knowledge is because of him.

They killed my chacha, Sibte Jafar, but they cannot kill his memory

March 21, 2013

He was there to answer all my questions -- worldly or otherwise. PHOTO: ALQAIM.TV

In my 25 years of life, I have met three kinds of geniuses.

First; the genius who is inaccessible. He is always busy, forever surrounded by people. With so much recognition and power, he becomes vulnerable and often, succumbs to worldly pressures and expectations.

Second; the genius who is either a good orator, a good writer or a good thinker – not perhaps an all-rounder. He may even be accessible.

The third kind of genius is my chacha (uncle). Strangely, he was like none other; always accessible, forever humble and eternally ready to serve humanity.

He was my answer to absolutely any and every problem.

For the first time in my entire life, on the day he died, I felt jealous – jealous of all those crying for him – jealous of all those associated with him. That day, I felt like I had failed in knowing him in totality. His personality seemed so vast that my little mind failed to do it justice.

Until Monday, I was very happy with just knowing him as my uncle. I was content as the child whose school speeches he used to write; as a university student whose documentaries he used to help with, and as a young adult whose questions he used to answer with so much patience.

I now feel alone with no counselor, no guidance.

But standing there, amid lost people and an orphaned community, I felt they had lost far more than I had. Never before have I seen people yearning for a human so much.

As I write this, the words seem so shallow – so meaningless, devoid of feeling and essence.

Suddenly, tears and silence do more justice to communicating than any language possibly can.

Poets tell me he was a poet; educationalists tell me he was a professor; students tell me he was a teacher; peons tells me he was a generous helper –  the thousands who attended his funeral gravely felt his absence, sighed together in silence, unable to comprehend the devoid.

All those who wrote about him were still crying for him; families from interior areas came just to get a glimpse of his funeral.

It was them who told me who he was.

“You, my dear brother, will just go, happily stealing the show, joining the legends and mehfil (gathering) of great poets. It is us who’d be left to face this world,” Abu exclaimed exactly ten days before my chacha left us for the happier place.

It was still, however, a shock when I was confronted with the news. My chacha is Shaheed Sibte Jafar now. He was brutally gunned down right outside his college.

Through him, they have attempted to murder literature, language – the entire ideology of enlightenment and knowledge. Through him, they have murdered countless homes which ran through his help.

He made his way to the graveyard, held up high on many shoulders craving to carry his last bed, petals being showered on his path. I felt comforted at the sight of adoration, yet, looking around at the orphaned community, I felt a pang of inexplicable loss.

But then, how lucky is the human being who is loved so deeply by so many?

He is a fortunate man whose departure is mourned so fervently by so many and whose absence is felt so gravely by all.

My chacha will always be the man I remember on a 70cc bike, with a small, torn wallet, a checkered shirt and brown pants, holding an old, switched off Nokia 3310 – as humble as they come.

As Abu used to call him, a legend he remains – even in death, he is a living legend.

But not taught to think.

A piece inspired by a few conversations with bhai, ammi and abu.

The problem with this world is, we are raised believing that it is completely okay to follow our immediately felt natural instincts. We grow up believing, following and subconsciously being attracted to the super facial beauty of things and materialistic attractions. A good degree. A great job. A wonderful career. A luxurious car. A beautiful couple. In situations like this, intellect takes a back seat. Its need and void is only felt after a mature adult has grown tired of running after satisfying just the apparent.


This all starts when we leave the comforts of our mothers' womb and enter this world.

Somehow, in the early stages of child development, we focus on making our children smarter than the rest. In the race of proving their intelligence, we teach them numbers, colours and shapes even before they are four. We extensively google, hungrily read up all books, take up every possible suggestion from existing young parents in an effort to push our children in the combat of smartness. In those two foundation years of their lives, we somehow ignore their personality development, while focusing narrowly on the cognitive expansion.

The situation worsens with our use of I-ness.

We fight with each other to prove that our ways of imparting knowledge, our methods of teaching kids and our paradigms are unconventional and better than the rest. It inevitably leads to an excessive usage of a word "I". We are so busy proving our ways as the right ways, that, we ignore the brains and hearts of a little kid picking up the words. We focus on teaching them beautiful words, avoiding bad language, yet we surprisingly continue our usage of "I-ness" in our daily life. We give them toys, We bring them the best of the world. We let them experience the joys of their short lived obsessions, we let them feel the obsessions till they themselves get tired of it and move on to the next. Rather than breaking their favourite toys in front of them, rather than instilling a taste of giving by making them give away their favourite toys, we make them give away their old obsessions and past toys. We make them protect their favourite toys.

Our every action tells them that is absolutely okay to run after colourful cars. In front of them we discuss materialistic accomplishments. In front of them we compare cars, packages, jobs.

We do not give them the vision to see beyond what we see. We sway to the confident voice that sings twinkle twinkle, but we don't pause to give them the fables and magical stories of character, value, ethics and intellect. We love when they present numbers and words to the world. We don't stop to tell them what they mean. We never open the Real World of Intellect to them. We never make them think. We just teach. They see just what we see. They judge what we judge. And then, they also run after what we have been running after.

Just like giving them a reason to believe and run after materialistic beauty, we also hand them over a dictionary. A dictionary with a fanciful collection of intellectual words to be thrown and tossed around in front of guests earning complements and appreciation.

And then they grow up. We grow up. From children to adults. As adults, we run from obsession to obsession, we choose beauty over intellect, but the void remains. Something just doesn't feel right. We fail at being complete humans. We feel surprised. We blame the system. The humanity. Our parents. Our society. The ugliness behind just the materialist.

But never for once, do we stop repeating the cycle ourselves. We realize the significance of intellect and brains, but never for once, do we dig in deep to pause our animal instinct while paving way for our intellectual satisfaction. We never for once, stop our "I-ness" for the sake of humanity's future.

If men and women on this planet can't pause and grow above living just the animal/inherent nature of themselves, then, how on earth, do they expect the world around to change?

But we don't think. We don't stop the cycle. Because, we had been taught. But not taught to think.

the last tragedy

It is like surfing on the waves. Waves of Life and what it has to offer at societal and individual level. 

When a tragedy hits a nation, a community, a society, a group of people; it directly and indirectly affects us all. In the wave of things, or perhaps to route our helplessness, we create means of expression. A protest. Digital Activism. Few talks here and there. Few discussions over dinner and coffee tables. Few visits. Few tears even. 

Few programs on TV. Few blogs. Few updates and tweets. And few volunteer hours. 

We discuss. During the phase, we're standing so close to tragedy that even the thought of our own problems seem small. A feeling of our own problems at that time bogs us down to shear guilt. It makes us shake our heads and focus on helping or even just mourning. 

And then, days fly by. Like another wave, perhaps, a small gentle wave of our own personal things, problems, commitments and work takes us back to our own little world. The very same mind re-erupts its chatter of complains, issues and problems. The very same heart restarts on getting hurt by petty issues, noticing small things. And the very us lose ourselves in the race of living a normal life. Going with the flow, surfing through that wave, even the thought of the last tragedy seems distant. We move on perhaps. 

We think we haven't moved on. Because we still discuss the issue once a while. For those who resist the new surf and stay close to the tragedy are forced to leave it there. They are given lectures to get over it and "face life". In their face, in their hearts and minds, they are thrown heavy theories of Time. Everyone around who has taken the latest surf and moved on then finds it his utmost responsibility to sell the concept of Healing. 

But then, amidst all this, there comes a Direct Hand of Life perhaps. Maybe God in Action. Cutting through all this series of waves, sometimes, we, the ones who have moved on,  stumble upon a broken toy, a blood stained physics book or worse- the voice of the one who has lost not one, not two but three family members including his children. It is then when it hits us. We lose balance, we lose the wave of "Now", we pick up the toy. And feel. We talk to those who are still riding the wave of tragedy and think. 

We pause. Suddenly, the waves vanish. As it the waves of Life was nothing but an illusion. As if the whole concept of past, present and future is nothing but a mirage. Everything vanishes. What stays is You and that Voice. What stays is You talking to the Tragedy. It doesn't mean you haven't moved on. Perhaps, it doesn't even mean that you're depressed. It doesn't also mean that you are undermining the concept of "Time" and resisting to move on. 

What it means is, that a tragedy, an act of injustice, an imbalance in the Grandeur of Humanity is far above and beyond the realms of our physical plane. A tragedy is alive and remains so in the form of those affected. Ask a father who has lost three kids or ask a mother who is struggling with an injured kid. Imagine, the kid 20 years from now.

Would we be questioning and asking him if he has moved on or not. Would we be expecting him to have forgotten what had happened? Would we be judging which "wave" of Life is he on?

The only suffering, the only pain, the only challenge which is stands true and is the direct Test from Him - is the suffering inflicted by one group of humans on another. 

Since God is on the side of those affected, it just leaves the other group. That is the one who caused it. And we, the spectators, unfortunately, stand here. 

Let us look around, if the voice of the affected seems distant to us, if a bloodstained physics book surprises us. If we open our eyes to see our "wave" and not "them" around, then know it for sure. 

We belong to the other group. 

Every word of support left unsaid, every hand of support left not-raised, every part of our mind left to move on and every feeling of our heart left in cold is a stab on the wounds of the Last Tragedy. 

God is on the side of those who stand with the affected. God doesn't ride a wave. He did not even create us to ride waves of tragedies and moving on. 

He created us to stand with the affected and heal with them and through them over Time. He created us to stand with the Tragedy and combat the other group. For our silence is promoting Oppression equally. 

There is no wave. 

There is no moving on and staying on. 

There is just supporting the affected through Ehsaas (a feeling) or fooling ourselves into taking a wave of "moving on". 

Look for God, Look for them and go back to healing ourselves through them. 

Miss you Amma

When I was a kid, my dadi used to tell me stories of a magician. 

How one superhero magically comes and saves the day for those in need. I grew up sincerely and truly believing in the stories. To an extent, that when she used to fall asleep, I used to run, get my ruler and pencil in place and somehow construct buildings and dreams in front of her.

It grew into a serious habit. Every time she fell asleep, I used to go, construct buildings with my stationary in her room and then whisper my own stories of magician going around saving the world. My kind of superman batman. My first kind.

I grew up believing n the world of magicians and fairy tales. Strangely enough, I still do.

My best part of any scene creation of the magician story used to be the surprise. The surprise on the rescued's face. Strange as it may sound, sensing my craziness perhaps, my dadi along with my parents often conspired to make my  magician's stories come true.

I believed her religious and otherwise fables so strictly that I still hold them next to facts. Even today, I religiously believe that looking up at the sky and staring at stars can bring down some magician somewhere resulting in happy endings.

Everyday, God gives us a reason to forget our misery and forces us to realize how somebody else needs the Magician more.

It is like, how I used to go to dadi with a request to stitch new clothes for my doll only to find her busy stitching clothes for those who don't have any. Eventually, it taught me to happily convince my doll to continue with the old clothes for sometime.

I don't remember her well. I was still a kid when she left for the Heavens (escorted with her favorite farishtas I am sure) but from whatever I do, I think every minute of hers was a life long lesson.

From stars coming down to angels coming to her Favorite Family's Place with new clothes from Heaven. :)

It didn't just teach me that Magician exists, it taught me to look up and Be in the Team of the Magician and surprise people.

Miss you Amma.

Knowledge of It.

There are times, in fact many times, when we hear, see, talk about Life teaching us a lesson. Philosophy, Literature, Science all are full of sayings, quotations, essays narrating how school's lesson is different from Life's. How Life first gives us a test and then teaches us. 

In and around all this, there comes an instant. When you push. All this chatter of analogies drift away in some far off land. It is as if, somebody has picked up the remote control, turned the volume down, bringing your inner thought pattern to a stand still. Only then, you realize the extent and intensity of noise pollution within. 

And then, begins a lecture. A lecture by Life. Every other instant, every other day and every other thing seems like answering your gazillions of accumulated questions. From other people (known and unknown) talking to us to us sitting and opening a book. We stumble across answers. Answers and just answers. It in fact, to a freaking extent, feels as somebody out there is narrating an essay. Explaining events, imparting theories of Life in practical context. 

And this often occurs to us when we least expect it perhaps. Or often, occurs to us in our busiest of busiest worldly moments. It is nothing compared to perhaps sitting under a tree peacefully meditating and feeling the apple fall. It is more like sitting in a chaotic meeting, yet turning inward and listening to an essay within. 

In a funny sense, it is literally like somebody giving you away Knowledge of Now in a plate. Meal by meal. Appetizers first perhaps. 

An essay called Life. In a Course which often goes on break but comes back with all the answers and understanding. We, as humans, no matter how hard we try, remain unsure of what we want to see, hear or experience. We think we know. And on that misconception, we blindly follow suit too. But we don't. Not until we reach out and question without judgement. We extend our hands into the Vastness and innocently pour down all our questions. To which, we are given an answer right when we need them. To which, we are automatically enrolled in a course full of mysteries and overwhelming knowledge. Through modules of training, workshops and experiences. So what, if this all happens, while sitting in a meeting, talking numbers, yet listening to the universe within. For the Course has begun.

Debt we all have to pay.

We study average. We get average grades. We study harder. We get better grades. 

We learn. We feel our vision expanding. We learn more. We feel our vision expanding further. 

We work. We earn a return. We work harder. We earn a better return.

There is absolutely no stopping to getting anything bigger and better. Be it money, house, car, food, clothing, fame, power. The only thing that stops the betterment process is the Death of it. Our drive is positively correlated to our accumulation of anything. 

We all were created with a set of basic needs. Needs which if left unfulfilled, can and does result in the termination of this life. Hence, embedded in us is the drive. Inherent drive to strive for fulfilling our needs. 

Interestingly, we do not need much to fulfil our needs. Our basic needs have a really low satisfaction level. If we are hungry, any food will satisfy hunger. If we need shelter, any shelter will suffice.

Yet, our drive to achieve the better, the best is never ending. After staple food, comes the outside fastfood and cheap chinese. After that comes lavish dining and expensive dinners. After cycle comes public transport and then a car and then a better car and then a bigger and a better car and then, perhaps a private jet or a yacht. 

Why do we have a case of limited needs and unlimited wants. Our wants do not let us pause at what we have and cherish the moment. It forces us to run, to drive, aggressively and at times blindly towards something better. something bigger. something shinier. 

If God is the Master of our nature, then why so has He created easy levels for Needs yet unachievable levels for Wants. Is running after wants and always being in search for something better a wrong approach to life?

With growing religious intolerance and polarization, we have been exposed to a series of deadly, brutal and inhumane acts. One after the other. In situations like these, while on one hand, we are forced to question the humanity left in the humans. While our minds, boggled, are compelled to wonder where we are headed. And while, just when we feel like giving up on humanity, we notice another set of humans. 

Humans that answer the question of why do we have limited needs yet the drive for something bigger and better.

These are humans who instantly jump to action as if they have experienced some sort of imbalance created in the Equation of the Universe. Putting despair and frustration aside, they channelize their energy into bringing a change. Suddenly, for them, their drive, their energy to earn something "bigger/better/shinier" is transformed into correcting the Humanity's equation. 

Anything, absolutely, anything over and above their capacity to fulfil their needs is donated to where the vacuum is. They donate Time, Energy, Enthusiasm, Will, Motivation, Money, Resources and above all, They Donate their capacity as a Human.

Every day, in our routine lives, we see them earning harder. Working harder. Thinking harder. Expanding beyond their existing. Always busy in enhancing their potential. In any and every way. Not for themselves. Not for bigger shinier cars. For them, after a suitable set of clothing, house and food standard, comes the "others in need". 

After fulfilment of their need, their radar points and runs after to fulfil the needs of others. Not the wants of themselves. 

Perhaps, that is why we have limited needs and unlimited wants. For after fulfilling our hunger with good food. It is not time for better food, it is time for looking out for who needs food. 

Anything we earn in terms of money, resources, knowledge, values and character is a debt. It is a liability. Which has been given to us by God to give to others. It is an opportunity to Contribute to the Grand Workings of Humanity on the Planet. 

It is a chance for being to them what God has been to us. 

It is a chance for giving to them what God has given to us. 

Through us, God wants to change their fate. 

Imagine. 7billion of us, working for those who truly need it amongst us. 

Magic

Show me the Paths You want me to Explore. 

Give me the Reasons You want me to Count on. 

Gift me the vision of Seeing what You want me to see. 

Open me to the World where You wish me to be. 

Give me the power to embrace the Sweet Sufferings written by You

Drive me away from pleasures You don't Like for me. 

Transform each yearn in me, into the Yearn for You.

Replace each moment of humanly devoid with the Obsession for You

Pull me into the Vastness of works You Like for me.

Make me fall in Love..

Make me Absolutely fall in Love..

With You, With Your Mysterious Ways and Your Magic. 

Let me not leave Your hand for You're the Lead. 

Let me not leave Your path for You're the Guide

Teach me, to Live my Soul not my body. 

Teach me, how to contribute to the Vastness of Humanity

Teach me, how to teach others to do the same. 

Teach me, the beauty of Following You for what You're Worth

Liberate me from any judgements except Yours

Liberate me from any fear except Yours

Let me look up to the Majesty of Your Star Kingdom 

Grow me above and beyond the worldly rights and wrongs

Let me Listen to Your Secrets and to what You've been Telling me

Let me Recognize Answers to questions I asked

Let me Understand Prayers to questions I never asked

Let me Appear for Your Exam and 

Let me become Your Favourite Student

So that, I become..

What You want me to be. 

So that, I fall...

In Love with what You want me to..

So that, I am in love..
Absolutely in Love..

With You, With Your Mysterious Ways and Your Magic.