Who has to save the girl?

Navigation between pages has always been one of my preferred topics and same was true for today. Nevertheless, for a person like me it was today not a favourite, but one disheartening thing to do. I somehow slipped up on a video shared by certain page which was linked up to a recent incident that took place at Kaaw Mohalla, Khanyar on the eve of Eid-UL-Zuha. One unfortunate incident which too will drop dead in the law books against a thirst for justice and ultimately will result in one futile exercise of hope.


Well, a point here is that what make me write today after a long pause about such incident? I have already written numerous articles about the society’s evils and this too is no exception to them. So, for today what is it that made me once again pour my agony in these scripted lines. It is nothing except the “False show of humanity” that irked me of that video. The journalist is asking a lady who has lost her daughter in one of the heart scissoring incidents, “Tueh paeyth kya chuw mouj waeynken baitaan? (Mother, what is right now happening to you?) , Tueh kya chuw gasaan weayn kenas? (What is happening to you right now?), Tueh kya chuw basaan? (What do you feel about it?) and so on. Come on, Mr. Journalist first you call her mother then you ask her about how she feels of an incident of losing a daughter to the flames of inhumane society? How will you feel when, God forbid, your sister/female parent/daughter will ash down to dust and someone will build a story on how you feel right now about it? Even in a wildest of an imagination of such tragedy will send shivers down the spine. What sort of journalism is this? Disgusting! This is no new narrative, no new crime, ample number of such crimes take place each day, each hour, each second. Forget about getting a space in local dailies they don’t even get a person to mourn. They rest like never existing creatures in the earth full of sorrow.

Hah! This video actually played so bad that I found no better option other than stopping it there and the first 17 seconds have frozen in me. They are pain to watch. Doubtless, this video must have been made to show inhumanity, but while brings down the curtains of shame the discipline of journalism lost its own to “Fake sympathy”.

Offense is constantly clear. It is we who have blindfolded the eyes, it is we who feed it, it is we who actually nourish it and it is we who finally complain about it. It is the S.O.C.I.E.T.Y… even words don’t suit to be merged. Such tragedy!

Let me ask you a few simple questions,

How many times you have uttered when something improper is going on, even in your family or in the neighbourhood or in area around?

Have you ever done anything apart from being a mute spectator? Or being a person who watches and discusses do’s and do not’s at back?

In case you have done your bit, how well your family has supported it?

How many times you have reported wrong? Ever? Or just never?

There are so many questions and so less of an expectance of any right. Change is not one day march that we will shout and the next day it will be served. It is a struggle. It is a freedom from doomed ideology. It is a fire to orthodox ideas, cultural burdens, and above all the light into a deep lesion. To get it, we need to starve for it, else this article is only a burden to trash. In simpler words it is not about “who, when and how will save the girl”, instead it is all about “I will save the girl”.

To the fire

I did surrender myself.

Call it destiny or social iniquity,

But for now,

“I am free”.

No curse, No impudence.

Keep blaming each other

By then I shall return in womb another

I know, all over again,

Everything would be same

Faces will change

While crime will have new name.


P.S: The link to video is here  https://www.facebook.com/umaan/videos/10205806342692161/


Who Was Mad?

Madness! How will I define it? Frenzied I am over this term. Not because it is out of my dictionary or something like I would not have understood but this term few days back lodged me in a situation where I couldn’t answer myself, “ who is mad and what is madness?”. I kept briefing my mind that madness is a psychological disorder and a person affected is the one who is mad but then my cells didn’t accept it. Instead tried to pull me out of the bounds of the science and its definition of madness.

For a moment let me take you back to the cradle, where who you are doesn’t matter but being a reason of the cradle matters. For that one cry from theatre room, breath of a whole family is stuck. Everyone keeps on counting the seconds; each moment is no less than an eternity for a family waiting outside. Some keep tapping their feet, some are seen measuring the corridor distance, some watching the red light. Why not this kind of scene? After all it is a time to welcome the new family member.

A child if could plan his destiny wouldn’t he/she choose happiness, peace and prosperity over madness. Why one would choose to be mad? Well! It is quite acceptable that one won’t desire to turn into an abnormal being. No doubt we can design our dreams, work with them and finally establish them but none of us can go beyond what the Almighty has planned for us.

It was an autumn flavoured day, golden leaves rolling on the road with the sudden hush of cold currents of the wind. Trees were struggling to hold on the leaves which were bizarrely mashed up in green and the yellow tone. It was then while I was admiring the nature a sudden voice broke in the bus. Ya-ya-ya-ya-yaaaaaah. Some laughed, some were scared, and some were astonished to the sudden loud cry. Before anyone all could react, this middle-aged, fat, bald, round cheeky face, drooling eyed man ran up to the last seat in the bus. Sat down, stood up, sat again and then stood up again. Again a scream! All seemed frustrated. Take him down! Take him down the bus. With this the scene turned too panicky. Two boys hired the bus, started abusing him, kicking him and finally threw him off the bus. As the first kick hit I was trying to recall what exactly went wrong on be his half. Second kick; I couldn’t say a word I was insanely watching the crew that wanted him by any means get down from the bus.

The women standing by my seat,”This wasn’t a way to get him down. [Pause] No! No! This shouldn’t have been done”. This was a welcome speech but the wrong had already happened.

The bus moved, the smoke exhausted and a sign of relief on many faces. I too was okay with getting him down but not like this. He wasn’t supposedly wrong neither he was mad by choice. Madness is a mental disorder and what he did was not under his control neither he had any idea of what he was doing nor that kicking and abusing was justified.

It doesn’t take an eternity to change the present,
But it costs enough to make the beautiful future.

This wasn’t the first time I have come across such an unruly incident neither you, yes you, the one reading would have read it the first time. These things do happen and get ignored as if the right to live from such humans has been taken with the loss of their mental stability. Some sane are seen insanely irritating them, mimicking them, cursing them, abusing them, while some go to an extreme and beat them. Thus, turn them too furious.

Since we are blessed, being normal, so instead of mocking the person who has lost his/her mental ability it is better to be friendly. In case you aren’t in the mood of being good to them then please just for the sake of humanity don’t be worse too.

It needs the soul to be a human,
And being human is not easy.