Archive for September 29th, 2014
A Teacher is always Teacher
Posted September 29, 2014
on:- In: fiction
- 3 Comments
A story of brains, common sense and presence of mind
It’s a long time back story when people led simple life and helped each other.
Amina was a teacher. After her retirement she planned to see the places she had taught in class for so many years. She went from one place to another and enjoyed to see the important sightseeing spots. It took her months as she walked on foot by and large.
She reached a small village Spin Kali in north of Pakistan. By the time she got there, she had finished all her money.
She had not eaten anything for 3 days so was very hungry. She had a small cooking pot that she carried with her everywhere. She cooked in it, ate from it and drank water from it. It was a multi-use pot. It was time she didn’t know how to kill her hunger.
She was a teacher—-so had brains and common sense both! Teacher is always a teacher!
Some passersby saw an old unfamiliar lady making a fire.
Without taking any notice of them, she put some water in the cooking pot from the nearby lagoon. Then she put some weeds and pebbles in the pot. The villagers who had seen her build a fire saw her cooking something while going back home. They stopped and asked her who she was and what was she cooking.
She replied politely; “I am making soup of pebbles and herbs. This soup keeps young and energetic driving old age away.” She further said that; “it’s an ancient tasty recipe passed down to her from her ancestors.” Amina then dropped in a smooth, round white stone she had in her pocket into the pot.
Amina told the villagers stories of her travels and the exciting things she’d seen. As the soup warmed, tasting the soup told them that it was coming along nicely, but, “a bit of salt would bring out the taste.” One curious villager went into her home and returned with some salt for the soup.
A few more villagers stopped by to see what was going on. She asked for some carrots, onion or veggies to add to the already delicious soup. So, another villager brought handful of peas, carrots garlic and tomatoes to her.
Hearing about a weird lady making a special soup developed interest and excitement among people of that village. Amina’s outlandish stories fascinated the simple villagers. Step by step Amina made them bring some meat, potatoes to make the soup more nutritious.
Finally, the soup was ready and everyone enjoyed the tasty meal prepared for them from just pebbles, weeds, veggies, meat and other items. Thus she herself enjoyed the soup along with others.
Her stories and common sense made people friends with her. They welcomed her to stay as long as she wanted to in their village. She stayed there till she breathed her last. She educated children and adults. She groomed their personalities. She also opened a school for children under a huge ancient tree. The name of the school was decided and chosen by all students and teachers. Our Future
she changed the outlook of the village and brought productive changes. She also educated the women and taught them many skills to live, love life respectfully. She’s still remembered with great respect and love
Working together, with each of us contributing a bit, we can be successful.
I am a Woman
Posted September 29, 2014
on:- In: Food for thought | Poetry
- 4 Comments

Samar Minallah Khan
@SamarMinallahKh
Anthropologist & Documentary Filmmaker. MPhil in Anthropology and Development from the University of Cambridge, UK, Asia Foundation’s Chang Lin Tien Fellow,

Nida Sameer got her Masters in Mass Communication from Karachi University in 2001 and Young Development Professional Programme (YDPP) from NGORC (Aga Khan Foundation) Karachi in 2002. Afterward, she achieved another master’s degree in media and communications from School of Oriental and African Studies (SOAS), London, on a British Foreign and Commonwealth Scholarship in 2005.

Queen of Tracks’, success came with a price.
“I never got anything from the government, I’m still living in Korangi, and I’m never leaving the area because that’s where I belong.
Me a woman
History portrayed me as failure
At times dust, at times wilderness
Rebuked me, thrust aside me
Each day disgracing ridiculed me
But like moon and stars on horizon
I kept getting higher each day
Like the jumpy surfing waves
Kept surpassing seashore’s ebb
Like ambition grow and bloom
And new good spirits blossom
My aspirations swiftly boom
To keep elevating to the skies;
While you endeavored to sever me
And to bow down my being at thy feet
Like running down tears, to beseech
While fondness for beauty was there,
You remained petrified of my elation;
Thou tried to dig up my past happening s,
Remained unacquainted of my present;
Thou crushed my heart ironically,
Burnt my soul with your sniping glance
Killed me from first to last by hatred;
Intensity of malice and disrespect
My prudence and spirit decided to
Bury grief, woe, anguish, fear and gloom
There and then only;
Attiring in the robe of compassion,
Tread on the path of love;
I breathe today with a new vision
New hope new horizon—-
I am the woman!
Life is an opportunity given to satisfy the hunger and thirst of the soul regardless of any gender!