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Friday, November 03, 2006

Nothing, really ... just venting!

Jaun Elia (also spelt as Jon and John), the enfant terrible of recent Urdu poetry, wrote:
Kaun iss ghar kee daykh bhaal karay
Roz ek cheez toot jaatee hae !
(Who can take care of this house?
Every day something breaks ...)

Whether he was speaking of his personal marital predicament or referring to aging, I am often reminded of this shayr when I read national news. If it's not Bugti, it's Bajaur. If it's not Karachi, it's a Khan.

If the whole country is fucked-up is the leadership to blame? If the whole leadership is fucked-up is the country to blame?

When I feel most frustrated and angry, I return to a poem by Kahlil Gibran that I'd like to share with you.

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Anonymous Anonymous said...

Are you saying that the two questions are part of a vicious cycle? Does that mean we can never get out of this mess?

03 November, 2006 23:42

Blogger the olive ream said...

Thanks so much for this ZAK, enjoyed the poem very much. The problem is that the status of our quo never changes,... if you know what i mean?

04 November, 2006 01:20

Blogger Sidhusaaheb said...

Baaghi hui hai hum se toh apni sipaah tak
Milti nahi hai khaana-e-dil mein panaah tak

Aisa nahi ke sirf raasta kharaab hai
Neeyat musaafiron ki zyaada kharaab hai

Yeh shehar hi aisa hai
Jis mein har shakhs utnaa hi kaamyaab hai, Jitna kharaab hai

(From memory...Apologies in advance in case of any errors!)

05 November, 2006 02:07

Blogger Cocaine said...

I am sure you would have witnessed your house being repainted at some point in time. Things are messy, you are moving thhings around, accomodating for changes in one area by moving furniture in an another area. There are painters, their ladder their brushes that keep coming in your way. There is smell of turpentine, there is smell 'chuna' (as we call it in urdu).The wet paint sometimes gets on your clothes sometimes on your hands and on the whole you are pissed at this drawn out, chaotic process thats turned house into a mess. Its all worth though, since when its done, the house looks better than ever good as new and solicits a on your face.
Whats happening in Pakistan is akin to having your house repainted. Its gory and messy now but hopefully, the future will be bright.

06 November, 2006 02:28

Anonymous Jehan said...

Thanks Zak - this poem of Gibran touches me each time I read it. Somehow as we move from one year to the next, facing the challenges that this country continuously throws at us, this poem appears to have been written with us in mind. There are days when i am in the depths of despair because it appears to me that nothing is really getting better - the hypocrisy, the corruption, the enmity, the need to pull each other down, the money chase, the attitudes, the lack of values ... and then there are other days when something that one person does or says gives me hope - there is a ray of sunshine and I am optimistic again. Ready for another let-down? Maybe. But it is better than living in despair and not even trying to get out.

07 November, 2006 09:44

Blogger bluecheese said...

they come from one another, the leadership and the country; if one is fucked up the other must be as a consequence. Hope? Yes one can hope. But whether or not things will (or can) change depends on so many externalities...hoping that things will come together and fall in line at the same time requires either a belief in the divine or else in the probabibility of improbables becoming probable :)

And thanks for sharing the poem, it is great indeed. Completely unassuming and refreshingly unapologetic.

07 November, 2006 14:09

Blogger Zakintosh said...

@cocaine: the olive ream has made the point well - the painting seems to have no end in sight. Humourous poet Dilavar Figar's Qat'ah comes to mind:

Har cheez ka javaab hae, "Haalaaté haazrah";
Sün sün kay loag haal say bayhaal ho gaé.
"Haalaaté haazrah" nah sahee müstaqil, magar,
"Haalaaté haazrah" ko kaee saal ho gaé!

08 November, 2006 05:40


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