Colonel Bashir’s “Young Man”

Today, I am not here to write about any common observation about social media or road sense… I am here to write about this “young man” Lieutenant Gohar Roshan. gohar Most of the readers must be aware that my youth mostly revolves around Military College. There is a very popular figure Lt. Col Bashir who, to Military College, is what “Mr. Chips” was to Brookfield. In case you haven’t read the novel in grade 12 because you don’t belong to Punjab Textbook Board, all you need to know is that Col Bashir has been affiliated to Military College Jhelum for decades. He’s an old man with plenty of experience, believes in the conventional methods of teaching, is respected and his word is as important as commandant’s. The old man is obsessed with the terminology “young man”. I was not really a big fan but I really liked a few things coming from Col Bashir. His concept of “young man” was somehow similar to that of Iqbal’s Shaheen, maybe the cadet version of Iqbal’s Shaheen. Whenever I would hear the terminology “young man”, Lt. Gohar Roshan (Cadet Gohar then) would come in my mind. What is so special about Gohar that I am writing about him? Well, Military College is a special place where about a hundred 8th graders are selected out of thousands of applicants through a tough selection procedure to enjoy the privilege of cadet-ship every year. We would always feel special because we were the chosen ones. But… Gohar was even more special. He was not selected on these hundred seats; he was selected on President’s special seats for tribal areas. Yes, the man in the picture belongs to the under privileged northern areas of the country. I remember when he, along with a couple of other fellows, came to join us a few days after the actual joining date back in 2006, some of us were actually scared to interact with them (I literally laugh when I think about it now). Gohar was obviously Pushto speaking and sometimes it was tough to communicate with him because of his weak Urdu, in the beginning. We were ordered to communicate in English or at least try to, all the time. My first thought was something like ‘oh! how tough is this going to be for him’. But one of the things that impressed us early was his quick adaption and quick learning abilities. Soon, the lad was trying to communicate with us in English and believe me, he gained stronger grip over the language than many others with far better educational backgrounds, in a matter of weeks. Gohar displayed a very positive attitude and took everything as a huge opportunity to polish the gem that he already was. He shined in academics, sports/training activities and even in co-curricular. Is that normal? It would have been normal, had he come from a background as strong as that of majority of us. That is not all from the “young man”, he was something more. If you would ask me who the most trustworthy person is, that I have ever known apart from my family, the answer would be “Gohar Roshan”; if you ask me who the most truthful is, answer will be the same; if you ask me who the most upright is, the answer will still be the same. Gohar Roshan was Col Bashir’s “young man” after all. He is one amazing person and a great friend. When he said something, it mattered; when he talked, people listened and no, not a bossy nature at all; he would crack jokes and his company was always full of laughter and smiles… a very lively person. I always feel proud to have been a part of the Batch 2006-11. I have contact with my comrades back from Military College and I, always, am interested to know how well they are doing in their lives; most of them are army officers now, of course. When I see Gohar’s photo coming on Facebook from somewhere, a smile automatically appears on my face because my brain takes me back; the “young man” came from nowhere and won everything; from success to the utmost respect. I wish he writes an autobiography one day and well… he is a hero. — Waleed http://www.facebook.com/mianwaleed1

Main Paindu Hi Theek Hoon

Kaafi cheezayn relatable hain.

بلاگ اے

میں ایک قصبہ میں پیدا ہوا ہوں جہاں لڑکوں اور لڑکیوں کے لیے گورنمنٹ کا ایک پرائمری اور ہائی سکول تھے اور باقی کچھ پرائیویٹ سکول تھے، جہاں پانچویں جماعت تک مخلوط تعلیمی نظام تھا- جہاں کوئی پبلک پارک نہ تھا، ایک سول ہسپتال اور کچھ کلینک تھے- جہاں کوئی کالج نہ تھا، میٹرک کے بعد پڑھنے دوسرے شہر جانا پڑتا یا پھر گھر بیٹھ کر پرائویٹ امتحان- جہاں گورنمنٹ سکول میں بیٹھنے کو کرسیاں نہ تھیں، ڈنڈے کھانا اور مرغا بن کر مار کھانا روز کا معمول تھا- انگریزی تو دور کی بات وہاں بہترین اردو پڑھانے اور بولنے والے استاد بہت کم تھے- انٹرمیڈیٹ کی ٹیوشن پڑھنے بھی قریب کے کسی شہر روزانہ بس میں جانا آنا ہوتا تھا- میں نے وہاں سولہ سال گزرے، وہیں رہا، پڑھا اور پھر کالج کی تعلیم کے لیے لاہور چلا گیا اور وہاں سے کراچی

شہر میں آ کر پتہ چلا…

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Criticism is our Language.

Well… Here I am, once again, with all the jumbled up ideas in my mind, not sure about what I am really going to write.

I was going through some comments on a Facebook post, a photo where a guest speaks to the audience on the event of the first graduation ceremony of Namal College Mianwali. The top comment on this photo was, “Such a big event and hardly any media present to cover it… SUCH SHAME… give them a negative story and watch them play it on tv 24-7 “.
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Well, I am really against our country’s media because of the negativity it promotes but when I looked at the photo (the photo which had this comment), there were microphones of the three top news channels of the country (Geo News, ARY News, Express) clearly visible.
Man! Are you blind or what?! I mean, if something has one wrong aspect, is it necessary that we start criticizing it from every angle?! And 5 likes on this comment, do these people even know what they are doing out there?! And by the way, it was just a graduation ceremony of a small institution, asking about proper media coverage and linking it to media’s negative attitude? What are we even talking about here?!

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This was not a very big thing but it got me thinking. We have developed habits:
1. Criticize unnecessarily. 2. Follow the lead of the people doing it, without even thinking.

First point is clearly visible if we observe the daily happenings. Switch on your TV, watch news anchors trying to criticize politicians for all the right and the wrong reasons, politicians trying to criticize other politicians, someone blaming government for something, government blaming the previous government for something. And then, we are all criticizing one thing or the other on social media. I am not trying to make a point against ‘criticism’, I am trying to make a point against the increasing ‘UNNECESSARY criticism’ that I can observe everywhere. Social Media has given voice to everyone and the term everyone includes the idiots who don’t really know what they are doing out there. And then comes the second point, some more idiots following the lead of these idiots, without thinking. A post is shared on Facebook with some wrong statement criticizing something and it starts right then and there. 9 out of 10 people don’t even bother to check for the authenticity of the fact and start sharing, adding some more flavor of criticism and personal emotions to it. I have observed some very stupid things being shared by a few people I considered sensible before.

On a relevant note, this photo once went viral on Facebook with so many abuses to the non-Muslims that they are Na’Ayuzubillah building a Khana-Ka’aba shaped sharaab-khana in new york and we must protest against it and bla bla.

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Turned out, this was an under construction “Apple Inc.” store.

I am deviating a little bit from the topic here.
So, here’s the deal, there are positives everywhere; you just have to open your eyes to observe. Think twice about all the aspects of the matter at hand before even passing some remarks about it. And after all, there’s already too much negativity out there, why not spread some positive energy.

The irony is, this post is itself nothing else but ‘criticism’ on the people who criticize.
But think again, is this criticism valid or unnecessary?!

–Waleed (@waleedish)

He knows what’s the best for us.

People say life is full of ups and downs. I didn’t realize what it actually meant till I took a huge step of changing my career path in 2011. My life has mostly been easy because of all the support that my father gave me. Let me tell you a little from the start of my academic life; I studied in an Urdu-medium school till my 5th grade. Next 2 years were also not so good. In 2006, I was selected in some renowned institutions of the country; Military College Jhelum, Cadet College Hassan Abdal etc. I decided to join Military College unsure about whether I would join Army in future or not (I was too young to be 100% sure about what was right for me as far as career was concerned). I kept going through the cadet training which largely effected my academics. I kept trying to adjust but deep inside, I always knew I would not be able to carry on. There was a fear constantly teasing me, “What if I quit here and fail to achieve anything better even outside this army setup?”. Army life is great in it’s own way but every person can’t adapt to that life.

Well, in January 2011 when not a lot of time was left in Cadet Waleed turning into GC (Gentleman Cadet) Waleed and facing the real tough army training, I decided to quit. That sounded a huge wrong decision to many, but not to the people who really knew me. I chose the engineering line outside army. I don’t know if you would call it an “up” or a “down” in my life; to me, it was both. I learned a lot of good things in my four and a half years of cadet life. That place made me what I am today. That place gave me courage. That place gave me some real comrades who would never let me down. I now know that those fears were all temporary. I knew I would eventually quit, sooner or later but those four years were meant to happen to me for the good. Looking back, I have no regrets but only two things that I learned; 1. Life goes on. 2. He (Allah) knows what’s the best for us.

-Waleed (@waleedish)

Life

I found this, from January 2011.

Life, a complicated thing, a name of experiences, sometimes good and sometimes bad. It goes on, whether you stay with it or not. Time flies and you keep struggling. But, in life, you got to be smart; smart with your decisions and your actions. Living a better life is everyone’s wish, and its all about taking right decisions at right times. You commit mistakes, but there is always a room to recover. Take risks, never be afraid, when you know its not gonna work, give it a try, but if there is no way, step back because in life some defeats are better than victories. So go with your heart, take chances, love the people around you. They might be your enemies but they all are your teachers. You learn something from them and from your experiences too, even if they are bad. You just have to take a few things seriously. Don’t think that things will get better with time. You are responsible for your life. You have to understand that this life is your own. Its about your future. Go on with your heart. Success and victory are not always required, learning is the important thing. All that matters is the way you take things. Life is short, live it to the fullest, love like you have never been hurt and tell your loved ones what they mean to you. You never end up before your death; There is always room to get up and rise. so go out there and see how much beautiful this life is, love it and live it….

-Waleed

Depressed…Since Forever..

She was a mother. A mother of a well-raised great kid. She was proud of him. How could she not be? He was simple, humble, down to earth, patriotic, loving, caring and everything she wanted to see him to be. Actually, even better than she wanted. He was her only son. He was her ankhon ka tara”.  All she wanted was to see her son living a happy life. Was it too much to ask for a son? A son who was loved by everyone. An honest and honestly, a ‘rare’ Pakistani. That was all she wanted. She had spent her life. She wanted a much better one for her son.

Now she is sitting on her chair. Grey hair, old body. She is sitting there on that chair, where she was sitting when he told her that he would come back after half an hour. He would not be late. The poor lady trusted him. That’s why she is still there. Waiting for him to come back. He went out there to get her medicines. She believed she did not need them but he didn’t. That’s why he went out there. She waited for him. That wait was not ending. Half an hour? what could have possibly happened? Traffic maybe. The worried mother turned on the T.V to get her mind somewhere else. It did take it somewhere else… somewhere she couldn’t possibly have thought of it going. There was the breaking news about firing between two groups of different sects. Four people from the groups were passed. Some people trying to help them, lost their lives too. She died inside seeing the place of the incident. Two blocks away from her home. He was never late. Why was he late? She called his phone again and again; it was busy. She did not know what to believe, what to do.  And then, there was a phone call. She was afraid to answer it. But how could she miss it? She attended it with her shaking hands and there was a news the mother of the only son, didn’t wanna hear. She wanted to hear his voice but instead she heard his name in the list of dead people from the hospital. How was a broken soul supposed to react? There was nothing that could be done. He was the only smile of his face and now it was gone. He was gone. But her heart? What is she supposed to do with it, still living those thirty minutes, waiting for him to show up.

What was his fault? Maybe he was gone because a person like him couldn’t survive in this community, this country. Maybe people here just see what sect you belong and what is your caste. Maybe his fault was that he did not belong to the sect of the murderer.

Maybe she could have moved on. Maybe she could have lived rest of her life without depression if she wouldn’t see all those sons getting killed every other day. Maybe if there was less Jahalat in her country. Maybe if there was peace, some respect in her country. Peace created by people. People who could survive, unlike her son. Every time she hears the news of someone killed. She feels the pain all over again. She feels the pain for everyone. Every other mother losing her son, every wife losing her husband, every family losing their loved one, every child losing his parents. She knows the pain. She feels each bit of it.

That’s why she is depressed since forever.

-Nahel

Bus changes, Story remains the same…

I have been traveling to different places through public transport for about 7 years now since my 9th grade in Military College Jhelum. From Faisalabad to Jhelum, Faisalabad to Lahore, to Islamabad, to Sargodha, to Mianwali, to Gojra and back to Faisalabad from all these places, I have experienced a lot of ajeeb halaat in public transport buses. Readers who have experienced traveling in buses other than Daewoo etc. must be aware of what ajeeb halaat I am talking about.

Well, all those things aside, there are things which never change. I am just going to elaborate one of those, recently noticed by me, though it’s been happening almost every time. The experienced people must have witnessed bus drivers abusing the other bus drivers for breaking the traffic laws all the time. Well… Almost every time I travel in a different bus with a different bus draevar (driver) and a different clinder (conductor) but one thing stays; they are doing the right thing and others are doing it all wrong. How can it be that all of them be frishtaas when I travel in their bus and shaytaans when I am traveling in others’?!
I tried to figure it out and you know what I found; the driver of the bus I was in, abusing the other bus driver for overtaking at the wrong time and then doing the SAME EXACT FREAKING THING AFTER 20 MINUTES or so. Oh… the irony (and yeah, I observed the other bus driver abusing him the same way with almost the same words which he used 20 minutes ago).Wo kisi ne (pta nai kis ne) kya khoob kaha hai, “Auron ko naseehat, khud mian fazeehat”.

–Waleed (@waleedish)

 

Public transport

Photo: pakistan.onepakistan.com.pk