Mother

Mother are a give from God,mother loves the greatest love of all .....

Urstruly: It`s not tamatur yaa tomato. Bari Fazool Example Dee Hae :( It`s just that the way you wrote the verses, they seemed as if you were about to start with Eechuk Dana poem. Secondly, Naa`deeda seemed like nadeeda - greedy. So, the first few times, I was not sure if you were writing a childhood poem or showing contempt. The next few times, I thought someone lost their Ainak and you were writing a fil-badee`a poetry around the gum`shudaa` aai`nak. So, do you see how much agony you caused? Ayinda sae aisee baa`t likhnae sae pehlae soch lae`naa, please. Thank You.

On Mothers & Fathers: Mothers have indeed their own role in a child`s outlook towards life. And, a significant role. But the importance and role of fathers cannot be neglected. When there is partnership / companionship between the parents, the children will realize the importance of both roles. Often times mothers are considered to be more expressive and loving, but fathers can also be equally emotional, sensitive and caring.

Ansari # 31
Viqar Qadir # 27
Yours truly #30
ZahraJ #29

I thought this was a private grief cramped in my circumstances, but I am strengthened by the reception given to this story. Your comments are illuminating. Last night, while driving home, I listened to the wailing voice of Alalm Lohar singing in his rustic Punjabi. I cannot understand him clearly but the theme is obvious:

MaaN jeha eh chhaa`waaN boota
ut`tay kidh`ray nazar naaN aa`way
Jis di chhaaN oo`dhaa ri ley kay
Jann`at (paradise) Rab bnaa`way.

Urstruly,

Your story brings to mind an incident that occurred only this morning. One of my classmates, Saeed, was in Islamabad yesterday with his mother to get a US visa for her so that she could accompany him on his trip this winter when he goes over to interview for a residency. Saeed`s a top student, he got a 97 on Step 1 of the Licensing Exam and is currently busy preparing for Step 2. His mother`s application had been rejected once and they were both very anxious about this second interview. All of us, his mates, kept getting sms`s from him the day before to please pray for them that things work out. Anyways, I called him up this morning to find out how the interview went with the visa people. Apparently, their application had been rejected once again. His mother couldn`t travel with him. Tau ab kya karoge?

``Buss, I won`t match this year.``
``Kya???``
``Yaar, mein Amma ko chor ke nahin ja sakta.``
``Lekin yaar, tumne tau itnee mehnat ki hai; usko kyun zaaya kar rahay ho! Can`t Aunty stay with some friends?``
``No yaar, I`m the only one she has and I can`t leave her alone. I`m not going to match this year.``

Try as I would to convince him, it didn`t work. He wouldn`t leave his mother behind. And to tell you the truth, I had no words for that sort of devotion. Woh kehtay hain na ke maan ke pairon ke neechay jannat hoti hai. Saeed`s truly realised that for me.

--

Amjed sahab,

Farzana`s right. There`s only one way to read this article - with the heart. Thank you.

ZahraJ

Tomayto, Tomahto.....what`s the difference? What`s in a name? That which we call a tomato.
By any other word would taste as sweet..... That is what romeo told juliet.

Anyway, that and authors name reminded me of one of my class fellows. What a brilliant engineer; a gold medalist and a wonderful human being. He belonged to a poor family. With an invalid father he and his younger brothers were forced by circumstances into working at very early age. All of them worked and studied part time. The youngest one also broke the board record and won gold medal despite such hardship. The eldest one, my friend, always mentioned fondly and with watery eyes how his mother had to sell her gold earings to pay for the admission fee for the engineering college. That was the only jewelery she had. Despite their hardships all of his family were very friendly. I can remeber 10s of sleepovers of me and my other class fellows at his tiny little house in a shanty town of Karachi.

Once in such an occassion (sleepover) we asked his mother to show her son`s gold medal. She was a kind and lovable lady - a simple village woman who couldn`t even pronounce the word ``gold medal``. She brought the gold medal and said `` ay mere amjad da ``gol matol`` eh``. Amjad hugged her mother and said ``nai maaN eh tera gold medal eh``. Words cannot describe the effection in his eyes and sweetness in his voice. His mother prayed for more success for him. And her prayers realized on every step of his way. One year after the graduation when most of us were just being promoted from being trainee engineers and rest were still struggling to find jobs he had already become factory manager running a plant of 60+ workers.

The two words that his mother uttered....``gol matol`` had such a profound effect on us all. We could see the images of our mothers in that illeterate women. Such is the power of love. But we used to consider ourselves as ``khote sikkay`` as compared to our friend. In those days this sher just came out and was oft repeated among our friends whenever we recalled that gol matol incident. The sher goes something like this:

shehr meiN aa kar saaray bachchay bhool gaye
kal kis ki maaN ne kitna zevar becha tha.

Urstruly,

Your verses were very sweet. I often ask the question to my dear father :) Fathers are as important as mothers are. The world ought to realize that.

By the way, the thought is simply beautiful in your verses, but I got stuck twice at ``Ichanak`` and ``nadeeda.`` I wished you had put ``Achanak`` and ``Naa`dee`da`` for easy reading.

Thanks...

Ichanak phir bachaya he kissi nadeeda hasti ne
Magr kaise hooa yeh mo`Jaza ma`loom karna he

Tujhe kuch yaad he kal kab tujhe maiN yaad aya tha
Mujhe ay maaN! Tera waqt-e-doa ma`loom karna he

Don`t know what to say...but I do want to say something.
A reaching out of sorts to let you know that I understand. Couldn`t read the whole article without getting my eyes moist. Read it in parts, giving up each time and then mustering up the courage to go on.
I miss my mother. I could see her face reading your article and I felt how difficult it must have been for you to write about this. I thank you for your courage. I dread going back home now. Why are mothers so much like angels?

Amjed: You are welcome.

Just to clarify: I was not being condescending by using the word ``weaved.`` It`s just that I really get irked by gender inequities. And, when I hear or read about them they completely drive me nuts :-( Excuse my ignorance on the lack of information as well as exposure to the feudal mindset and its working. I would rather stay ignorant on those items since they will never ever be on my priority list of information gathering.

Regards...

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Taking the gender out of this picture and only focusing on the emotions, I would like to share the following that I just came across today as part of my readings. This is what I like to explore in the thought process of Rumi. The following can be emotionally draining; but apparently it`s a rewarding process if you change your approach.

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
Some momentary awareness comes
As an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all
Even if they`re a crowd of sorrows,
Who violently sweep your house
Empty of its furniture.

Still treat each guest honourably,
He may be clearing you out
For some new delight.

The dark thought. The shame, the malice,
Meet them at the door laughing,
And invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
Because each has been sent
As a guide from beyond.

[Jalal`u`Din Rumi]

Taken from Acceptance by Gillian Stokes.

To ZahraJ #14

Thank you for the kind remarks. You like to beleive that the condition of the ``tradiditional women in Pakistan has changed tremendously``. Not true. Change occurs at a slow pace and does not touch every life simultaneously. In the interior Punjab and Sindh that I have been exposed to, the woman is still a lesser species. Due to abject poverty that breeds suffering and dependence, women embrace their plight as the will of God. Even some enlightened women (Tehmina Durrani: My Feudal Lord) succumb to conditions of co-dependency and suffering. So in my story I did not ``weave`` the plot to show the plight of two helpless women. This is the cold hard fact of life in feudal societies.

#18 Romair
Good question. I wish I could give an answer.

Aaisha:

Just visit or call. it is next best thing to being there.

Faisaluno # 10

The incidents are true; the characters are masked.

Irum #5: You are lucky to have a mother.

Farzanaversey: The story was written as a therapy for self. Thanks for not reading it technically. Appreciate the comments.

Nazar Hayat Khan # 6:

I look forward to your writings on CHOWK.

Goonga #4: I read it many tomes myself. Thanks for the comments.

No!!! Your mother did not want you to die.!!! She was too tired of carrying the weight of life and wanted to un-burden herself of the stress of living with responsibilities alone. She wanted to you to share. She just waited for you to come back and then left peacefully unburdened.!!
PBUH!!!!!

Very moving. The guilt complex at living so far away from family, in relative comfort, comes across really well....``And I am to blame for this mesh of lines ingrained on her face.``
And ``Let me dump the rancid contents of life--of grief and guilt, the epitome of an empty, marginal life that eats at the core of my being``...be kinder to urself : )

very moving. the guilt complex at living far away from `mom` in relative comfort comes across really well.
``...the epitome of an empty, marginal life that eats at the core of my being``....be kinder to urself : )
- Farah

Very touching and heart rendering, indeed.
Unable to say any thing more...............carry on.

Nice topic.

Why didn`t you go back for twenty years? Just curious.

In the end, life is nothing more than having food on a plate, a roof over one`s head, and spending time with relatives and friends. That is it. Nothing more to it. Anyone who has that, has everything.

Six months in Pakistan, six months out of Pakistan, that is the best forumla......

Good one. While the longsuffering paratha making helpless mother waiting patiently for her son to come home, might seem an anachronism in these days, she no doubt still exists in rural areas. Touching story. I like the part where he wanders around trying to find his past once again and fails.

Correction: Please replace ``empowering`` with ``overpowering.`` I did not mean to change the hierarchy of power and become an eternal sinner.

Beautiful.

Amjed:

A very touching story. Something that I did not like in the story was the very impression that was weaved to show the helplessness of a woman and her reliance on a man. I have read these stories in my childhood and I would like to believe that the condition of traditional women ``mothers-in particular`` has changed tremendously from those days. It may be an idealistic approach. But as they say and I will tweak what they say:

~Dil Kae ``Behlanae`` ko Ghalib Yeh Khayal Aacha Hae!

On another note: Having been away from one of my homes for quite sometime now, I do get hit by a certain fear as well. And, I used to have a very hard time bringing myself to the very thought of ``departure`` of the loved ones. Then one fine day as I was medidating while I on the road, something just hit me so hard that everything got shifted into a ``certain`` perspective. I realized that if anything has to happen it can happen anytime. And, I am a very little entity in the grand scheme of things that nature has planned. This was the time of last fall and I was completely engrossed in my thoughts and my own world. Very typical of me! I just lifted my eyes and could not believe the beautful fall colors that I saw in my surroundings. I passed through those winding roads and hills every other day. I did not pay much attention to the colors. And, I told myself ``what a damn fool I was!`` And, that`s when my whole faith and belief had a second life. The presence of Allah Taala was so empowering that I had to let go of my ego. Nature in general has a very lasting impact on my well being and my connection to the supreme being. But that whole mindset and surroundings left me with an answer to some of my unspoken questions.

The intent of the above is not only to share a very personal experience but to let you know that your character whether real or imaginary is just a human being and not God.

Indeed, we all interpret, decipher and perceive things very differently. I hope this serves as a consolation to your character in the story.

Regards.

Amjed

I have emailed your articles to many youngstors who are living abroad away from their mothers - this article was the best tribute you could give to your mother.

...... wafting smell of cooking parathas early in the morning, brought back early memories hidden somewhere in the deep recesses. narrative tugs at the heart strings, very moving.

very powerful. and hope this was not a true story.

I am speechless really...mothers are that way...whatever you do, however nasty you are...they are always there, arms open and welcoming...I miss mommy...it made such a moving read...makes one think what is the point ofliving off shore, making all that money if you are not with your near and dear ones to spend it on and with...may be I should return to Pakistan...no point in living this life of exile...God! now I am about to cry...and then again, I know it for a fact my mother does that too, so many times a day, as she raises her hands in prayers...prayers for my safety, away from her...

Thank you Amjed!
I want to read it again n again.

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Mr.Amjed

Thank you.
Genuine. poignant.

---

Unpolluted by literaturity, intellectualitis and educatosis.
This is what CHOWK should be. Not the haunt of crows fancying themselves to be swans.

Amjed

That is the story of a mother - our mothers. They are so special. Why they die?

Loved this moving shower of emotion from you.

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This is very poignant and introspective...I cannot read it `technically` right now...perhaps never...

But would have thought that another title might have lent it something more. `A requiem` is a bit obvious, and I almost skipped reading it...

Thank god, I did not.

Mohammed:

....just some quick comments...good riveting story...a bit jarring towards the end...both along the plot and some word usage...`alleviating` and `processing` immediately come to mind...keep sharing,

rgds,

t

Beautiful!!!

I just read this part :

````It was a mistake to come to the United States and a mistake to go back to Pakistan because mother, for whom I had been dead for long time, was waiting for me to die.````

and I dont think I can read the whole article. Lets just say that I dont have the emotional strength to read it.