Deprivation

Well done! Simply brilliant in its haunting imagery and a sense of desperation, which it instills in the reader!

Shandana, this by far one of the most distrubing and moving articles I`ve read about state of mind, which is known as Pakistan.

Bravo! Great article! Unfortunately, those who need to read this most will not read it, and, if they did, would not understand it, and, if they did, would probably want to do you harm.

Keep it going.

Ali Minai

Looks like verymuch the hold KALI has on the Bengalis from CALCUTTA(KALI KATTA),& now to be known as ``KOLKATA``

I imagine all the Karachites,have similar sentiments,there is no if,but about it.Personally every city with more than 10 millions in Indian subcontinent are the same-``Bursting at there seams``As for Americans cities i dont like to live in any of them,After New York every other city i saw, Detroit,Chicago,Miami,LA,Sandiego,Houstan.Toranto,Montreal to me they seem the same while approaching it by High Ways(Same if you are flying in)To me they seem like big chunk of ASPHALT during the day time!

I probably never fall in love with a cosmopolitan city,cottage by a no name pond is another thing.

Looks like verymuch the hold KALI has on the Bengalis from CALCUTTA(KALI KATTA),& now to be known as ``KOLKATA``

I imagine all the Karachites,have similar sentiments,there is no if,but about it.Personally every city with more than 10 millions in Indian subcontinent are the same-``Bursting at there seams``As for Americans cities i dont like to live in any of them,After New York every other city i saw, Detroit,Chicago,Miami,LA,Sandiego,Houstan.Toranto,Montreal to me they seem the same while approaching it by High Ways(Same if you are flying in)To me they seem like big chunk of ASPHALT during the day time!

I probably never fall in love with a cosmopolitan city,cottage by a no name pond is another thing.

couldn`t understand a single word

brilliant

brilliant

Shandana:

this is probably one of the most intense and powerful piece of writing i have read on chowk.

please keep on writing.

KAISA PYAR

Jeena kaisa azaab hay? Teri baataiN yaad aati haiN. One soul, divided again and again, incontrovertible, undiminsihed, unyielding yet seen. Seen in you and me. And all those other teeming millions, 12,130, 900, 6000.

We must have shared the same streets, lanes, boulevards, parks, buildings, planes, routes, seats at one time or another. And not exclusively at that. Why stop at thumbing the nose/s? Don`t you envy the velcro fly?

As usual, words are far behind the thoughts. These fingers can`t keep pace. Now, that thought, that beauty you talk about is everywhere. And nowhere. Not when the tactile urge overwhelms. Forget Tennyson, Asadullah, forget everyone that inherited the fragmented soul. Do we slow down as calendars fade and are filed away in memory`s huge warehouse? Perhaps not, regardless of the physcian`s assertions.


The magic is in love. The magic is in hate. One cannot go from an existential foray into the ethereal ocean of life with only one of them.

Tum aur hum, zindagi ki gaRRhi kay dou phaiyay. As is love and hate. Folks go overboard when seeking gratification with one balm only. I find you constantly inch forward to touch the truth. Is hate a harsh reality, unblinking, unyielding. Or is it controlable?

These days, I`m more inclined to treat them as horses pulling our chariots. One has to accomodate the grays. From wheels to force.
Channelised, purposeful. Seldom. Na Hath hay baag pay naa paa hay rekaab maiN. Daikhiye rakhsh-e-umar kahaN thamay. I hope this is a
correct quote. Hence we whirl. In another time, another place, we would have been whirling dervishes.

(Disclaimer: Am neither high, nor driven. Just drained.)

One of the better one from you in a long time. Ecstatic.

regards,

Note to JB, who, when he finds some precious moments, first scans the replies: Pls. read this article.

love is sordid and you capture its essence. it is the ultimate state of vulnerability. a feel-good delusion that we all want to believe in because it is one of the last remaining things that makes us feel organically connected. but that comes at the expense of doing away with doubt, reason, etc. especially now when we have internalized the death of god and everyone is on prozac (or self help books)...however, the specter of doubt is creeping in on love; the religion of Romanticism itself. new yorkers know what i mean. there are so many people. how can there be only one. cities are great that way...they give you density with anonymity, intimacy with fear, simulated hyper-reality. makes you want to cling on, but why settle.

The person who suggested you write about love might have been being a jackass at the time, but I`m glad the suggestion produced such a powerful, moving result.

Bina.

speaking of deprivation; Happy Independence Day to all.

Chowk has become the meeting place for complainers and for Western minded self-deprecation. Only a homeless would tell the harsh realities of Capitalism who I see in the New York subway everyday. And in the once mighty Russia, people are devouring pig fat to live. There is no perfect solution. Fortune and misfortune coexist everywhere. Accepting the reality might be of some consolation. Going to Rwanda might also have humbling effects before pilgrimages to the ``pristine`` West. Happy Independence Day by the way.

To Day,mid-night between 14 th & 15th August,52 years earlier Pakistan had already become a nation,while Indians were counting sec. to 12 am.Does that make nation of Pakistan atleast a day older than new nation of India??????I am glad that i never experienced rule by the Brit.So happy independence to Pak. & India!

I am sorry for inadvertantly clicking my Post 7 & 8,causing double post.

Goga,Mubasshir your emphasis on realities & Delusions respectively are scathing ,immature & sound resighined &burnt out.You sound preety young to give up on LOVE.

Bina,being poetic, suave I dont understand you too could call someone ``Jackass`` for asking to write about LOVE.I agree with you about the powerful writing of Shandhana,but she too draws her fire from the treachery of full of slums city.

Unfortunately all of you are scarred (Hopefully temporarily)by harshness that you see around you .

Unhe kaliyon ko haq hai lutfe baharan ka

Jo kaliyan ibtedaye umr se katon me palte hain



Penicillin the most potent at the time of its discovery(Alexander Fleming)didnt grow in a clean,sterile dish but in the rotten mould left overnight.

cynical passion and bitter indifference...and I thought the combination wasn`t possible.

I feel like moving back to Karachi.

Dear Shandana,

I hope that someone somewhere finally has the sense to cradle the jagged pieces of your soul and give you the security and the love that you deserve. I mean that because there are so few honest people in this snakepit of ours that we call Pakistan, and it takes not only honesty but courage -- very rare courage -- to write the way you do. Our wishes, as always, are with you.