enough

can we ever have enough?

life has a funny habit of going on

so is there a point where

enough is enough?

True Story of a Blast Victim – Sayra Mobeen

sara mobeen is a student at the international islamic university at islamabad. she was badly injured in the twin suicide attacks in the university on 20th october 2009.

the extent of trauma can be seen by the fact that it has taken her over two years and lots of persuasion to write her story.
may Allah help us all to overcome this menace of extremism that we are faced with in Pakistan aamin
if you have any comments or want to send her a message these will be passed on to sara mobeen.
thank you sara, our prayers, and support for you and your friends will always be there.

True Story of a Blast Victim

SAYRA MOBEEN – Student BBA (Honors)

Islamic International University Islamabad

The morning of 20 0ctober 2009 was delightful and astonishing for me not for the country; I was happy to go to classes for my studies and be with my friends. Ignoring the years of unending dilemma of Pakistan facing the threat of terrorism; that every face showed pain did not matter to me.

I am not a keen follower of the news, and that is why I could not feel the pain people faced by being in a bomb blast, or of losing a loved one in a terrorist attack.

The twin blasts in my University that day changed my life, as it was the first strike on women students in Islamabad. This incident left deep effect on my life. Bringing me face to face with a disaster which in its wake brought a lot of challenges for me.

Sadly I am a victim of that incident, and have been lucky to survive to tell my story, and look at life in a different perspective.

I remember that day after classes I came back in my hostel room at about 2:45 pm. My friend Umme Kalsoom came to my room and asked me to accompany her to the cafeteria, so I got up and we left.

We went to the cafeteria fruit shop but they had sold out the fruit etc. I don’t know why we were in hurry that day to go in the café, as we both ignored our class fellows who were sitting outside the café asking us to join them, and entered the main hall of the cafeteria.

We bought salad and some other eatables and sat inside the café on the left side of the hall, we still did not join our friends outside! We realized that we had not bought soft drinks so I went and bought these.

As I reached near the fountain in the hall, on my way back to our table, I suddenly heard a dreadful sound, and saw lots of smoke; my ears were deafened. I felt as if I had been hit by something forcefully. I was disoriented and fell down. The pain made me realize I was hurt and I could feel the pain on my body, arms, legs, forehead and chest. Later I found that the major injuries I received were on my chest.

Humble thanks to Almighty Allah that I was in my senses and tried to walk away from the cafeteria to save myself, but could not. I then saw my friends coming back to look for me; my shirt was full of blood which was coming from the wounds on my head and chest; when Umme Kulsoom  she saw me in this critical condition she started crying.

I asked Umme Kulsoom to look for my cell phone which I lost in this melee so I could call my family, she asked a female employee of café to look after me while she went to look for help.

I was feeling afraid because of the blast not for the pain or my injuries. The café staff told me I had severe injuries so I should go to the hospital, and tried to put me in a taxi, I refused because I did not want to go alone by taxi. The staff then left me and walked away, which hurt me more. I missed my family and friends and started to cry.

In the meanwhile my friends came looking for me, and picked me up, I was in great pain, and they took me to the Pakistan Institute of Medical Sciences. The doctors decided to undertake surgery because of the nature of my injuries. I was very afraid because I knew my family was not with me, and I did not know what would be the result of the operation. But that is perhaps what saved my life.

After initial treatment in the PIMS and in view of the nature of my injuries, I was sent to the Combined Military Hospital at Mangla Cantonment for treatment. I underwent treatment at Mangla and suffered lots of pain and surgical interventions, for approximately four months. During this period my family and I suffered a lot, as they had to arrange for a place to live at Mangla, and commute from Abbottabad to Mangla regularly.

My injuries were similar to the injuries that soldiers receive in the battle field. The doctors at Mangla took great pains to remove the pieces of shrapnel and other stuff in my body, but even then, they could not remove all, and some non-life-threatening pieces of the material that was used in the suicide jacket, are still in my body and will remain in me for my life. It hurts at times, but at least I am alive.

As I said I did not pay attention to news of bomb blasts when I saw it on television or read about this in the newspapers, therefore I could not assess the pain of others; especially those who suffered during terrorist or suicide attacks.

Since my ordeal, I can recognize the pain and difficulties of survivors and victims’ like me, and Allahmdolliah I can empathize with them and help them in their recovery from trauma.

This unpleasant incident did not close the door of life on me; it showed me the other and pleasant direction of life. I am happy, and grateful to Allah that I am passing my life normally, thanks to my family, friends, and many other people who helped me recover, and this has strengthened my belief in the saying that, “obstacles come in life to polish one, or make one like a diamond”.

Bullah, how do you know yourself?

one of the better written articles about Bulleh Shah that i have read in a while.

http://www.thefridaytimes.com/beta2/tft/article.php?issue=20110930&page=16

Ghata Chhaayi Thi Saawan Khul Ke Barsa

“Ghata Chhaayi Thi Saawan Khul Ke Barsa” from the album “Aathwan Sur — The Other Side of Naushad’

amazing poetry, beautifully rendered. enjoy

The Ella Foundation – impressive story

as i go about talking to people about the ills of extremism and violence, i come across people who have faced violence in ways different that me, and these people and their stories affect me and change my world view. sometimes make me feel so inadequate in the face of what they have been through.

one such story is of Charity Lee, please take the time to visit her site.

http://www.theellafoundation.com/

TEDxPSU – Mia Bloom – Seeing the New Face of Terrorism

Mia Bloom is an Associate Professor of Women’s Studies and International Studies at the Pennsylvania State University. Her focus is on terrorism through her fellowship at the International Center for the Study of Terrorism and her work specializes in Middle Eastern conflicts as well as rape in war. Mia’s studies have been featured on numerous media outlets, including CNN and CSPAN, and has been interviewed by Nightline’s Ted Koppel and PBS’ Jim Lehrer. Mia’s most recent work focuses on exposing the emergent occurrence of women and child terrorists. Her book, Bombshell: The Many Faces of Women Terrorists, brings these growing problems to light, analyzing the root causes and the direction of modern terrorism today.

Peter van Uhm: Why I chose a gun – TED Talk

Peter van Uhm is the Netherlands’ chief of defense, but that does not mean he is pro-war. At TEDxAmsterdam he explains how his career is one shaped by a love of peace, not a desire for bloodshed — and why we need armies if we want peace.

The Make A Difference Movie – The Teddy Stallard Story – by Mary Robinson Reynolds | The MasterMinding Maven® – Full Length Version

The Make A Difference Movie – The Teddy Stallard Story – by Mary Robinson Reynolds | The MasterMinding Maven® – Full Length Version.

start to make a difference today – start with clicking on the link!

the muse

the muse

ah the muse

always the muse

spoke

silence is sin

it said

who is it that

has not sinned

i cynically asked

all have

came the reply

then why not sin

and be silent

for, it said again

the time to be silent

has passed

and the first stone

has to be cast

sinner or saint

all have to now

stand up and

be counted

then i’d rather be

counted

in those who

sinned twice

and silent remained

for they who speak

are stoned

by those who don’t

 

the muse shrugged

raised an eyebrow

sulked and said

remembered are those

who speak, not those

who don’t

ah quote material

my utterances are not

quipped i, smiling

sure i had

the better of it now,

but the muse

being the muse

had more to say

recall a day to live

against a hundred lived

ah the one who the

keeper of the throne

of delhi had named

his pet for,

consider this

the words

and the name

you remember

mused the muse

and so many more

i can recount

but now if you will

let me fade

and with that

 

the muse faded

as it was

a concept put in place

by the muse of muses

leaving me

to inward look

ponder

think

muse

what if

my voice is that

which will

evoke and awake

the multitude

and in doing so,

will to be lost,

be too great a price

or will silence

be its own reward?

and inside reared

another muse its head

and said

even in shackles

the lips are free

the choice is yours

to let groans escape

or praise his being

speak the truth

or curse your luck

for either way

the end will be

the same

a stroke of the guillotine

outwardly

or inwards

slow or quick

and i shuddered.

and the muse rose

smiled and said

choices

and faded, leaving

my mind undecided

for now or forever

sinner that i am

to sin again

in silence.

somewhere at the back on my mind perhaps faiz ahmed faiz reciting ‘bol kay lab azad hain teray,’ and maybe the zardari interview in which even i as a layman unlettered in statesmanship could see though the untruths, and felt sorry to have to bear the wrath of the gods for making us such that we deserve rulers like these. but whatever, the sadness that we are the silent majority who do nothing but repeatedly sin the sin of remaining silent remains foremost.

 

january 8, 2012

12:10 – 19:30 hours

 

a nation unsung

(the energy crisis and the unacceptable to people solution to it resulting in lines at gas stations, and strikes to protest the way the issue is being handled, led to this outpouring of words)

a nation

to whom is lost

the wisdom of the queue

at last

stands in lines

for energy to run

the wheels of life

and turning their anger

to breaking windows

road lights

and burning cars

someone’s hard earned asset

turned to ash

in a flash

roads blackened by the soot

of burning tyres and debris

playing hide and seek

with them who should

guard but are

turned to hound.

and the house on the hill

millions a day

for its upkeep spent

enough to power a town

day and night for a week

but unmindful of the plight

of those who pay

for their sustenance

burn the nation’s wealth

leaving in the wake

broken homes

shattered dreams

hurt egos

empty hands

hunger pangs

wasted life’s

bitter tastes

nothing

and still

it goes on

the charade of life

a kaleidoscope

of black and white

like night after day

for them to stand

in lines

another day

and curse!

january 05, 2012, 10:10 hours