SiD’s Sphere!!

Note: For Facebook and WordPress readers, please click here to watch the videos.

Ordinary men and women who have never set foot into the Bazaar-e-Husn (literally beauty market), when told of these tawaifs(prostitutes) find themselves asking, ‘How could these women sell themselves for money? How could they stoop so low?’ These are the men and women who step into Cukoo’s Den (a posh restaurant in Heera Mandi) as if into a forbidden enchanted land and return none the wiser about the actual lives of the inhabitants of the Mohalla. And these are the men and women who most need to see this documentary.

Before you go on reading, I hope you have seen the documentary above, and if you think this is eye opening, I urge you to read ‘Taboo‘ by Fauzia Saeed.

The book gives an ethnographic account of the prostitutes’ lives. I look at it from an economic viewpoint. As long as there is demand for a particular service, someone in society will provide it. If demand ceases to exist, the service will cease to be available. Then, is it really fair for the self-righteous hypocrites that we all are to direct our disapproval only to the service-providers while the users go blame-free. These prostitutes and kothas are really products of man’s lust, which at least in Pakistani society ‘is usually grudgingly recognized as a necessary unpleasantness, consequently denied and never discussed.‘

That the men go to these women to satiate their appetites with impunity is not surprising, but a failure to recognize consequences of their nocturnal activities irks me the most. How can these men live with themselves knowing that they have caused for more lives to enter this mad mad world from which there is no easy escape.

anaginat sadiyon ki taarik bahimanaa talism
The dark dreadful magic of uncountable centuries
resham-o-atalas-o-kamkhvaab mein bunavaaye huye
Woven in silk, satin and brocade
jaa-ba-jaa bikate huye kuuchaa-o-baazaar mein jism
In every corner are bodies sold in the market
khaak mein lithade huye khuun mein nahalaaye huye
Covered in dust, bathed in blood

I wrote this 2 years ago, and I feel no different today:

So I may be wearing green and singing Dil Dil Pakistan at the top of my voice, but what is missing is the spirit of independence. 14th August is supposed to be the day Muslims of the subcontinent earned their freedom from the British as well as what was predicted to be a bleak future under Hindu rule. And yet, I’m still asking if the present day Pakistan was worth all the trouble our forefathers had to go through. From my vantage point, the bloodshed was needless; the sacrifices, a waste.

Many a patriotic soul would contend that the rights of Muslims would have been under serious threat in a nation dominated by Hindus. I look around and wonder if the ordinary man in Pakistan has any rights. Even in a Muslim nation, I feel no sense of security even inside my home. The law of the land is not there to protect me or my rights but a manipulation tool for the power hungry. And the saddest part is the apathy. An apathy that is just as much a part of my character as any other Pakistani. An apathy reflected by the collective insensitivity and indiscipline out on the roads or the disgusting tolerance towards corruption in the top echelons as well as lower down the hierarchy. A state of apathy that leaves me hopeless. Hopeless, yet not helpless. But I chose to not help because of the same apathy.

I’m sorry but I don’t see this nation going anywhere. And it’s surprising that it survived so long.

Happy Independence Day!

In a way, its grown worse. The lip service and rhetoric has increased, but I see no substantial change.

A few moments ago on twitter, someone announced a cake-cutting ceremony at one of the busiest roads in Karachi at the strike of 12. Concerned, I tweeted back requesting the person to not block roads. I was accused of ‘overreacting on pointless discussions’.

Really?

Does this Proud Patriotic Pakistani not remember the times, he’s been stuck in traffic because some political or religious party was celebrating something. Does he not remember the frustration he felt when he had to get somewhere and he couldn’t because some people had no consideration for others.

That, in my opinion, in Pakistan’s biggest folly as a nation. Most Pakistanis think only of themselves.

“My daughter is getting married, I don’t care about the neighbour’s sleep. I will play loud music into the wee hours of the night.”

“My Quaid was born today, I will block this road and hold a procession. It is the Quaid’s city, after all”

“My Prophet was born today. I will steal your electricity to light up my mosque. You are a kafir if you protest”

“My nation became independent today. I will make a racket at 12 am and sleep it off tomorrow. The sick and the old who go to bed early should be happy we are a free nation”

What a sad sad state of affairs. And you can’t knock sense into them. That’s akin to blasphemy.

I don’t mind the load-shedding anymore. I have learned to live with the lawlessness. The corrupt leaders I have stopped complaining about. But this hollow, superficial celebrations going on right now in the name of Independence Day PISS me off.

Stop! Your nation does not need this of you!

Someone just posted this on my facebook and I agree:

Aaj ka cheraga raat ki roshni mein doba nazr aata hai
14th august ki subha jub kal ka insaan soya paya jata hai
tub mera watan yateemi ki aghosh mein akela mehsoos kerta hai…
aaj mujhko woh dadi dada ki kahaniyoon wala Pakistan yaad ata hai

Translation:

The lights and celebrations will fade out with the night
The morning of 14th August will find everyone asleep
It is then that my nation feels orphaned
I remember the Pakistan that my grandparents told me of

I cannot agree more with Nelson Mandela:

For to be free is not merely to cast off one’s chains, but to live in a way that respects and enhances the freedom of others.

When I watch movies, I plug in my earphones. That’s my way of shutting the world out of the fantasy that I’m about to step in. The second the movie starts playing, everything outside the screen stops mattering.

I love movies. I have a knack of falling in love with most movies I watch. So it should be no surprise that I loved Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind. I loved how it had a dreamlike feel to it and how it had me in a trance even after waking up from it.

We love movies because they touch something inside us. Because while we watch the characters play their roles, we continue to search for reflections of ourselves in their fictitious lives. We feel their emotions like its our own coz at a level deep deep down in our subconscious, it is our own joy, sorrow, excitement, or loss that we’re really feeling. We love movies coz it is socially acceptable to FEEL while you watch a movie. Real emotions in real lives are usually hidden under layers of facades.

I’m not going to give anything else away. If you want to be blown away by some very realistic acting, a touching story and a lifelike story woven up in a surreal plot, watch the movie.

So, as you can guess, I’m still listening to Micheal Jackson, and this one I couldn’t get over. At first, I thought I like it so much because it speaks for me, something I’d like to say all of my friends, but on second thought, the emotion the song conveys is universal and it speaks for all us humans. All anyone needs is someone to be there for them in their darkest hours, in their deepest despair.

To all those who matter (and you know who you are), I WILL be there.

Hold Me
Like The River Jordan
And I Will Then Say To Thee
You Are My Friend

Carry Me
Like You Are My Brother
Love Me Like A Mother
Would You Be There?

Weary
Tell Me Will You Hold Me
When Wrong, Will You Skold Me
When Lost Will You Find Me?

But They Told Me
A Man Should Be Faithful
And Walk When Not Able
And Fight Till The End
But I’m Only Human

Everyone’s Taking Control Of Me
Seems That The World’s
Got A Role For Me
I’m So Confused
Will You Show To Me
You’ll Be There For Me
And Care Enough To Bear Me

(Hold Me) show me
(Lay Your Head Lowly)
told me
(Softly Then Boldly)
(Carry Me There)
I’m Only Human

(Lead Me)
hold me
(Love Me And Feed Me)
ye yeah
(Kiss Me And Free Me)
yeah
(I Will Feel Blessed)
I’m Only Human

(Carry)
Carry
(Carry Me Boldly)
Carry me
(Lift Me Up Slowly)
yeah
(Carry Me There)
I’m Only Human

(Save Me)
need me
(Heal Me And Bathe Me)
lift me up lift me up
(Softly You Say To Me)
(I Will Be There)
I Will Be There

(Lift Me)
i’m gonna care
(Lift Me Up Slowly)
(Carry Me Boldly)
yeah
(Show Me You Care)
Show Me You Care

(Hold Me)
whoooo
(Lay Your Head Lowly)
i git lonly some times
(Softly Then Boldly)
i git lonly
(Carry Me There)
yeah yeah carry me there
yeah yeah yeah
[Spoken]
In Our Darkest Hour
In My Deepest Despair
Will You Still Care?
Will You Be There?
In My Trials
And My Tripulations
Through Our Doubts
And Frustrations
In My Violence
In My Turbulence
Through My Fear
And My Confessions
In My Anguish And My Pain
Through My Joy And My Sorrow
In The Promise Of Another Tomorrow
I’ll Never Let You Part
For You’re Always In My Heart.

So, as you can guess, I’m still listening to Micheal Jackson, and this one I couldn’t get over. At first, I thought I like it so much because it speaks for me, something I’d like to say all of my friends, but on second thought, the emotion the song conveys is universal and it speaks for all us humans. All anyone needs is someone to be there for them in their darkest hours, in their deepest despair.

To all those who matter (and you know who you are), I WILL be there.

Hold Me
Like The River Jordan
And I Will Then Say To Thee
You Are My Friend

Carry Me
Like You Are My Brother
Love Me Like A Mother
Would You Be There?

Weary
Tell Me Will You Hold Me
When Wrong, Will You Skold Me
When Lost Will You Find Me?

But They Told Me
A Man Should Be Faithful
And Walk When Not Able
And Fight Till The End
But I’m Only Human

Everyone’s Taking Control Of Me
Seems That The World’s
Got A Role For Me
I’m So Confused
Will You Show To Me
You’ll Be There For Me
And Care Enough To Bear Me

(Hold Me) show me
(Lay Your Head Lowly)
told me
(Softly Then Boldly)
(Carry Me There)
I’m Only Human

(Lead Me)
hold me
(Love Me And Feed Me)
ye yeah
(Kiss Me And Free Me)
yeah
(I Will Feel Blessed)
I’m Only Human

(Carry)
Carry
(Carry Me Boldly)
Carry me
(Lift Me Up Slowly)
yeah
(Carry Me There)
I’m Only Human

(Save Me)
need me
(Heal Me And Bathe Me)
lift me up lift me up
(Softly You Say To Me)
(I Will Be There)
I Will Be There

(Lift Me)
i’m gonna care
(Lift Me Up Slowly)
(Carry Me Boldly)
yeah
(Show Me You Care)
Show Me You Care

(Hold Me)
whoooo
(Lay Your Head Lowly)
i git lonly some times
(Softly Then Boldly)
i git lonly
(Carry Me There)
yeah yeah carry me there
yeah yeah yeah
[Spoken]
In Our Darkest Hour
In My Deepest Despair
Will You Still Care?
Will You Be There?
In My Trials
And My Tripulations
Through Our Doubts
And Frustrations
In My Violence
In My Turbulence
Through My Fear
And My Confessions
In My Anguish And My Pain
Through My Joy And My Sorrow
In The Promise Of Another Tomorrow
I’ll Never Let You Part
For You’re Always In My Heart.

last night, i was hoping that once the rain comes the dust on the trees would be washed away. today i’m thinking of the blood on the streets. that is there to stay. the rains, the tears, nothing can make us go back to a clean slate again.

maybe this is why they always asked us to be careful. to think before we acted or said anything. because somethings just cannot be reversed, and some misunderstanding can never be cleared.

What I once thought were are circles now appear to be parallel lines. Recurring themes are not spread over time anymore. They’ve taken over the present and its the same demons on every front, and on each one of them, some more blood is spilled every day that will stay there.

Due to glitches in the import tool, posts from my blogger account fail to get transferred completely, specially those containing youtube videos. Can you all please bookmark http://sid87.blogspot.com/ instead.

Readers of the blog may also find useful links at the end of each post. Don’t forget to check those out. *hint hint*

I told you today I’d be writing specially for you coz you not only understand but feel what I say. I had been trying to do that for so long- evoke feelings through words- but I hadn’t been able to.
I give you the name of supernova coz in the brief moment this star shines, its radiation exceeds that of the entire galaxy and then it fades away for weeks. You have been that star. You have been the keeper of my secrets, and the only company my tears flow unhesitatingly infront of.
Shine on!

Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented.

Elie Wiesel, writer, Nobel laureate.

I disagree. In my opinion, neutrality is a must when one can’t discern between the tormentor and the tormented. Nothing works in isolation. No incident is a one-off event. Terrorists don’t step out of a vacuum and neither can you send them there.

But that’s not what I intend to say in this post.

I have stopped watching TV. I have stopped reading any sort of news related to the war or the bombings in Pakistan. Not only is it too depressing, its infuriating. I don’t support any form of violence: not the war, and not the ‘retaliatory’ violence that follows. A lot of people have drawn allusion to the large-scale migration during the Partition and the plight of the IDPs. The following conclusion from Jason Francisco’s review of the anthologies of all the literature on the partition, titled: In the Heat of Fratricide: The Literature of India’s Partition Burning Freshly, sum up my thoughts regarding the futility of debate and discussion:

What political debate will never fully do—and the reason we so badly need the literature—is defeat the urge to lay blame, which keeps animosity alive. Only the literature truly evokes the suffering of the innocent, whose pain is more universal and ultimately a vehicle of more honest reconciliation than political discourse. The literary work on the Partition affirms that the subject of the Partition was first the human being—not the Hindu human being, nor the Muslim, nor the Sikh. In the world of the stories, the experiences of each community distinctly mirror one another, indeed reach out to and clutch at one another. No crime, no despair, no grief in exile belongs uniquely to anyone. On the one hand, then, the stories seem to suggest that secularism puts a fence around the sanctity of life often more effectively than religious devotion—when, that is, secular thinking destroys religious myths of destiny and privilege that justify violence. At the same time they remind us that secular nationalism is not without its own mythology, including justification of foundational violence and violence deemed necessary for national sustenance.

Perhaps we emerge from the literature with a mistrust toward group solidarity of an oppositional bent. If so we must emerge at the same time,paradoxically, with a conviction to oppose such mistrust with trust in the goodness of the human life-urge wherever we find it. Indeed, we emerge from the literature as searchers for such trust. If we find it in the solitary dissidence of even a single person, we feel obliged to offer him or her our companionship. And if we find it stitched into whole communities, we come away not necessarily more pious, but inspired. The literature as a whole seeds pathos for the suffering and inhumanity of the Partition, and related instances of cultural chauvinism, but not merely so. It also sprouts a countervailing protest, a voice of justice that must be the surging of our humanity itself—something greater than our bestiality—within us. In this sense the literature does what religious leaders in each community failed to do: to make communities forces for the affirmation of humanity broadly, and to forge nations—if nations are the destinies of cherished traditions—dedicated to human improvement, dedicated precisely to virtuous conduct with those of different faith. If religious politics worked nefariously in favor of partition, it was because an ecumenical religious politics never developed. We are in a different position than the men and
women of August,1947/ Our choices are not limited to exile, death or resignation. If the literature of the Partition can teach that committed people of different faiths serve God far more effectively when they face one another in prayer than when they face their respective temples, we can learn to exercise such a choice.

What I essentially interpret from it, and what I mean to say, no amount of discussions- on TV talk shows, in drawing rooms, on blogs- is going to take away the misery of the people who are suffering. Whether or not I feel this is my war or not does not matter. I don’t wish to enter into argument with anyone who doesn’t agree with me.

They tell me the soldiers are fighting My War.

They tell me that while I should support the troops.

They tell me that the IDPs are collateral damage.

They call me a traitor for not agreeing.

The more I think about it, the more perplexed I get. I feel for the displaced families. I feel for every single soul that has been turned out of its home, in this sweltering summer heat. But not a single cell in my brain is ready to accept the logic behind the so called operation. The cost of this war outweighs any benefits that were to be had from it. Who are these Taliban? What writ of the government are they challenging?

Yes, the writ… the word that works so many of us up. They tell me, no one can have their own brand of justice when the constitution exists? Is the government not challenged in the crime infested streets of Lyari? Do tribal lords with private jails only pose a threat when they don’t benefit the ruling party?

But the war… this war, they call mine and yours.. where did that come from. Have you seen Charlie Wilson’s War?

When the world wasn’t looking, he changed it forever!

Sure as hell he did. But as the movie will show you, he also failed. After he succeeded in his covert operation of arming the Mujahideen to drive out the Russians, he couldn’t convince the US Senators who had spent billions on the arms, to spend merely a small proportion of that on reconstruction effort. The Russians were defeated alright! But what did that achieve. Charlie Wilson himself believes they fucked up.

These things happened. They were glorious and they changed the world… and then we fucked up the endgame.

A few days ago, Nabeel posted some eye catching posters on his blog called ‘What Goes Around’.

In Pakistan, we’re on the receiving end of the coming round of everything that has happened in the past, and the sad news is that the IDPs will start another cycle of disaster.

I don’t support the troops of my country. I feel sorry for them. They join the armed forces with the vision of serving their country, yet they’re only serving imperial interests. Unquestioning, unsuspecting, they follow orders and put their lives on the line for nothing.

You don’t eliminate terrorists with guns and tanks. You never will. You will only breed more. Go fight this war, if you have to but don’t call it mine.