Just Bliss

Archive for the ‘My,myself and I’ Category

I have a strange kind of personality traits.
I’ve been considered very dynamic and responsible from childhood by my teachers, parents of my friends, and even servants. They had blind trust in me. I also never broke their trust or let them down.
I did the best I could to accomplish the assigned task.
But—– I know that I’m damn careless when my self is to consider. I wouldn’t get up to drink water, even, if dying of thirst or do anything for myself. My mother getting annoyed on this, used to say, “Though you are just an ordinary girl, but your behavior is of a princess.”
I’m thought to be very organized. I have proved it for others)——-but ——let me share with you on the sly! I’m too unmethodical and slapdash I hate to iron my clothes, comb my hair, or wear matching outfits or wear two slippers of the same make when I’m home. My friends know that I feel relaxed and happy when I wear anything I get—it may be faded, torn or outdated but———-what pleases me is that it’s soft and comfy J
I am known to be very refined and well-mannered officially J but — believe you me, I can’t resist eating whatever served in friends’ party I can’t wait for anyone, young or senior. I told my Chinese boss too, when I stayed with them on a training session, that he may get angry with me for anything I do wrong I won’t mind, but I can’t wait for him to start eating first. When I’m hungry, I don’t follow any rules and he always was very kind and caring.
I ate my dinner twice when my husband’s dead body brought home. When I’m upset, I eat a lot more.
I rise early and sleep early. I never studied late in exams from preschool to university level. Ate more relaxed more, watched movies, painted, sang, and played my guitar when depressed.
I was very composed and serene at home, but, as a student, I was very naughty and playful. It was when I was in grade 8th in Presentation Convent. Mother Regis was our class teacher. Being short in height, I sat in the front seat. When I cracked jokes, the whole class roared of laughter.
I could see Mother Regis coming in door’s glass panes. So at once opened my book and pretended to be reading. None of my classmates knew this. Mother used to punish the class for being so nasty, while called me “my angel.” and was glad about for being such a good girl. My classmates only abused me in their hearts J
When I won trophies and prizes in debates or literary contests, earning, laurels from my teachers and friends my father used to say, “You know nothing but have created an impression of yourself on others.” J Parents know their children inside out. I never harmed anyone!
So, friends, I am like this even today when I am 64 years old now and a grandmother of 6 adorable children

It was 29th March 1984, the day, when I felt most lonely in the world.

My husband Major Rauf, passed away leaving me with four small children.

H e was a major in Pakistan Army. He got brain injury which was not diagnosed till four days before his demise. The blood clot on his left temple grew gradually. He complained of headache. After some time he started getting fits. The nature of the fits was like epilepsy so he was treated for that.  He remained ill for two years.  In spite of all treatment and medication he passed away —–

When his body was taken away for burial, I was dumbfounded and helpless to the core of my heart. I felt standing on water. Though the house was full of relatives, friends and neighbors but it seemed absolutely haunted empty place to me. Even the passersby felt sorry for him, as he was only 38 and I was 35.

We lived in a rented house.  No money, no source of income. My brain refused to accept that he was no more. So unable to bear the grief got nervous breakdown.

It’s a long story of struggle. Now all my targets achieved, mission completed. My children grew up into beautiful humane human beings. They are married now. I am a grandmother of 6 adorable grandchildren.

But, whenever I look back I shudder with fear and amazement. It seems a dark period.

I confess that with every unpleasant incident or problem, my faith in almighty grew stronger as, it was, only Him, who solved all my problems. How I managed to raise my children and run my house believe you me I don’t know———-

Now I am waiting to meet him in the heaven————–


We missed you every moment
Whom you always remained close to
To them even today, you are close to

People you loved dearly yesterday
You are still loved by them even today
You are father, brother, and son too

So are you a husband too
And a pride for your motherland too

Sabiha Qaiser

I was absorbed thinking about some topic to write on when all of a sudden the telephone bell disrupted me.

 My old friend Sabiha was on the phone. It was a pleasant surprise to hear her. Both of us being occupied with our chores hadn’t  met for quite long so we set time to meet at her home on Saturday evening.

As decided i went to her home. I rang the door bell. And within no time Sabiha opened the door. She was also eagerly waiting for me.

Sabiha greeted me with same warm smile like always.

The environment she has created in her home is very comfortable and pleasant. One feels at ease and at home in her simple but artistically set home. She’s not only a good cook is a very amiable host too. Home made munchies with fruit were set on the table to enjoy our friendly heart-to-heart talk.

 She is serving as an Administrator in a school run by a reputed NGO.

 I told her about my freelance writing.

Sabiha was surprised when I told her that I would take her interview. She tried to avoid it as she is very serene and never likes to be in glare of publicity. Her point of view was that she is not a famous lady or belongs to any political party, has influential status or media persona. She asked me

“Who would be interested to read?”

But I insisted to unveil her life story just to encourage other hundreds of ladies like herself who may possibly follow her footsteps and live with bliss, self-confidence and opulence.

Elite class has means and sources and does not face the bitterness of life as common people do, so they need to be encouraged. Her talk can be a landmark for one or many. Every one is born with a purpose set by Almighty so Sabiha may provide a path to follow or inspire some to boost up their moral.

Sabiha modestly agreed to unveil her struggles and turmoil, which she carried like yoke on her shoulders after her husband’s demise till date.

I requested her to answer my questions in line with the sequence.

Tanveer: when and where were you born Sabiha?

Sabiha: with a smile and taking a sip of coffee she replied that she is Virgo and was born in Karachi on 19th September.

Tanveer: will you please enlighten us about your educational credentials?

Sabiha: I did B.Sc from Govt P.E.C.H College

Tanveer: I remember you got married somewhere in early 80’s

Sabiha: you are right Tanveer I got married just after two days of Valentine’s Day i.e. on 16th February 1981

Tanveer: what are your sons Babar, Umair and Sair doing now?

Sabiha: All three sons masha Allah graduated from LUMS. Two of them are married. I have one grand daughter too.

Tanveer: you were a very submissive type of a girl. How did your husband’s death influence you?

Sabiha” My husband’s death taught me that I had strength I was unaware of. With widowhood came the surfacing of an inner self.  I have learned, though it took a few years, that pain is a natural part of living. We grow by losing n leaving and letting go.

Tanveer: I am impressed with your practical approach towards life. Would you share how your husband died?

Unfortunately he got heart attack on 8th May and breathed his last on 9thMay 1993.

Tanveer:  how will you put it in your words now

Sabiha: In every new experience happy or sad there is need to let go of what WAS until we do that, we can’t appreciate what’s IS.

Tanveer: Bravo! I never knew my dear friend that you have become so matured a lady now. (I was, moved and astonished by her courage to face life so daringly.)

Sabiha: The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched.

They must be felt with the heart.

Tanveer: I recollect you worked as teacher in a school too

Sabiha: Yes I served Hamdard for 11 years. I worked in two shifts in Hamdard to make my ends meet for all 3 sons were studying.  I worked in Hamdard village school in evening shift along with morning shift.

Tanveer: how was your experience inVillageSchool?

Sabiha:    Tanveer I observed poverty very closely there and felt the agony of appetite, poverty and poor health.

 Being sailing in the same boat I could only alleviate poor students with my kind words and care. I gained their love, trust and heart felt gratification that I treasure a lot.

Tanveer: would you mind if I ask you something personal Sabiha?

Sabiha: smilingly she said, in a hot, dry season, a tiny drop of kindness makes the world healthier and more hopeful. Tanveer dear your company is a pleasure for me so you can ask me anything!

Tanveer: was your salary enough to execute your requirements?

Sabiha: To be honest no. I believe in dignity of labor and have no reservations in saying that I gave coaching in the evening, sew and designed dresses and bed sheets and exhibit them for sale. I got what I did in return for good mind, good finds.

Tanveer: Did you face any problem with authorized departments?

Sabiha: would you believe me Tanveer that departments like KDA, PTCL, KESC, POLICE all helped and solved my troubles with kindness and respect even so they have no high-quality repute. But where there is a will there is a way.   I trust Allah so I over came all hindrances.

Tanveer: you are right Sabiha; God helps those who help them selves.

Tanveer: any message for readers?

Sabiha: My message for one n all is to please give time to yourself along with people around you. Enjoy life, as it is beautiful gift of God.

You never repay who help you in your trip through life, but you can pass on the payment. It will give you inner peace.

” Nothing is ever lost what I learned I put to use somewhere else”

Tanveer: Why did you not remarry nor do you miss partner?

Sabiha: I did not remarry for stepfather is crueler. He lacks endurance. He fails to tolerate forgive any shortcomings of other man’s children. Hence I sacrificed for my children’s’ betterment.

How ever one needs a companion to share pains and gains.

Tanveer: Thank you Sabiha for your time and enriching me with your positive and consistent efforts to enjoy the colors of life. God BLESS YOU.

Though cinder means coal or ashes but I being an educationist regard cinder as diamond, for coal being the foundation of diamond.  It is commonly known that diamond is very precious and as a result costly too. It dignifies and enhances the owner’s personality. The more it is translucently and vigilantly cut in shape the more pricey it is.

Children are like cinders. They need special care and kinder to grow and glow like diamonds skillfully.  Just like a plant needs air, water and sunlight to grow lustrously, so does a child needs lots of love, care and faultless training for their character building.

Having vast and rich experience in this field, I have always enjoyed working on them, for them and with them. They are the undiscovered world of valuable treasure. Each child is a world in itself. Children and flowers are true reflection of the Creator. The closer you get to them the more you cherish and relish.

When we moved to Karachi from Faisalabad I took my son Bilal to many schools for admission; but I got disheartened when I saw the books and talked to teachers. The reason was simple. Books were costly and of higher standard compared to the standard of class. The tuition fee with other charges was too expensive.

Above all, the teachers did not have adequate knowledge as expected. Bigger the building and locality, the higher was the fees. So I decided to open a school of my own where I could educate my children besides. Though I had no previous experience but love for education and children both motivated me.

My aim was to impart and instill the values and virtues in the fresh minds what we learnt from our teachers. I remember the Irish nuns, in Convent School never asked us to speak truth or be honest. They projected characteristics of a good human being practically. We followed our teachers’ footsteps religiously. I am genuinely grateful to all my teachers.

My school got name and fame in discipline, quality education and co curricular activities alike. Our students won many laurels while competing with other schools. It was smoothly running but a fatal tragedy in the family made me close down the school with a heavy heart.

After the demise of my husband I joined Mama Parsi Girls School. It was an enriching experience to teach in a renowned school. I learnt immensely from the system and also from the students. The strict discipline and amiable teaching stimulated me more. The rapport between my students and myself earned me deep regard and gratitude. Every day without fail I was presented with flowers and warm promising smiles which lessened my tensions.

I gave them nothing in return except kinder, attention and education. To make them feel grateful to Allah for giving them health from head to toe I took my class to a leprosy centre. Children gave gifts packs to the patients and charity to the management. It was a memorable experience for all.

The drive to do and pass on more instigated me to move on. I served in many learning institutions. What I found out was that every child is individually different.Thus a teacher should handle the situations according to a child’s needs and moods using psychological tactics.

There was a girl who played with flies rather than doing her test. On asking she said she wants to play. Agreeing with her she was made to sit in the patio to play with flies. After few minutes she got fed up as expected.  After that she did well in the test. Another chubby boy refused to do his test. He did not want to write because his friends were not there. When assured that his friends will also join, he did his best.

Very interesting case was of Zainab of class 1. It was final examination. She sat depressed. When asked she whispered that she didn’t know. She also requested to solve her paper for if she fails her father will beat her. Using psychosomatic tactic, teacher took her to a vacant room. The questions were read out to her and asked if she knew the answer. Surprised that the teacher did not know either she wrote the correct answers herself. When done she was very happy that her teacher did the paper for her 😀

The conclusion to this entire write up is that, a teacher has to play many roles.  At times she has to be a friend, a mother, or a strict teacher.In fact a real teacher is like a craftsman who skillfully  discovers the latent ability of a child.  Ironing out the short comings and illumining the spark prepares cinders to diamonds to serve humanity with dignity and undaunted endeavor.

Aslam, Imam Bux, Nawaz, Rasheed & Irshad

Gems, jewels, diamonds, gold platinum and other precious stones are stuff that add beauty, upgrading the status of that who owns them or wears them, but as it is rightly said that: when wealth is lost, nothing is lost, when health is lost something is lost but when character is lost,everything is lost.

Often the possessor feels arrogant looking down upon the ones who do not have this wealth. Such wealth creates distance between hearts and souls but luckily my gems and jewels are the truly humane human beings, who taught me some great lessons. They purified my soul with their words and deeds.In fact,what I am today is the reflection of my gems’ unobserved character.

Golden memories of my ‘Gems and Jewels’ date back to my childhood. Sabro (meaning the one who is composed and has patience) the middle-aged lady worked in our home as full-time maid. She was very cool, calm and collected and a caring lady. She used to sing Pashto songs in her husky voice and tell me stories of her childhood which were of great interest and curiosity to me.

She not only entertained me with her songs etc, but she carried out her duties very faithfully. Her diligence was unmatched too.Peshawar is in north of Pakistan and it’s one of the oldest cities of the world. Peshawar has all four seasons. Winter is extremely cold n summers are sizzling hot. Autumn is dry and depressing while spring is full of lush green grass with all colors of beautiful mesmerizing sweet-scented flora.

Sabro usually did her stitching and needlework in hot summer after noons after finishing her other duties.  Having weak eyesight she found it difficult to thread the needle so always looked at me with a pleading smile to help her. I was always ready to do so. Being a child I was not allowed to play with sewing box.  Since this sewing and stitching activity was done in the afternoons so there was no danger of being caught and scolded by my mother. I quietly tiptoed from my bed and joyfully helped Sabro.

Once she got very ill. As no one else could speak or understand Pushto so I was her only friend.  She asked me to call her son.  She wished to be with her family. Her son came and took her with him. After few days I sent a message for her since I missed her very much and got to know from her same son that Sabro passed away peacefully the day before. He said that Sabro missed me too.

I can still see her kind smiling face in my imagination. I am sure she’s in her finest place in heavens. She was the only friend I had.She cultivated in me that friends are like fragrance having no boundaries, regardless of color, cast religion age or status.

Since we had no neighborhood and I wanted some one to play with so developed friendship with our sweeper’s son Peter. He was my age.Grace the sweeper was a very clean and good-natured woman so was her son. Our Parsi teacher Miss. Narjis Gai taught us that sweepers are the noble class. They are to be respected more as they clean the trash we spread.I religiously followed my teacher’s advice.

My brother used to tease me that he will marry me to Peter when we grow up.  I believed him for I loved my brother so much that I did what he said. I had only one objection. It was, that Peter was very dark 😀  though we were very good friends. Fortunately he got married before I did 😀

Grace like her name instilled in my brains that cleanliness is not the feature of the rich community only, where they work or whom they work for but cleanliness is Godliness!

A very tall fair old man having broad shoulders and strong bones with straight posture with white hair and white beard white and eye brows came every weekend with a big basket full of eggs. He sold eggs.  He was very handsome. He wore roses in his cap and decorated his basket with roses too. Red roses and white eggs looked beautiful. He called me elder sister though I was a small 9 or 10 year old girl where as he touched his 100th year 😀 An old lady also came to sell eggs, hens and chickens. She was very jealous of that Baba because Baba always came before she did. She would not understand when I told her that, early bird gets the worms :). Grumbling and abusing Baba, she used to leave.

Baba taught me the dignity of labor at every age and in all seasons of life. He did not depend on his sons though he had 5, 6 sons as I recall. He earned his bread’n’butter himself.

The dairy man was another well wisher and my friend. Whenever and whereever I went for shopping or went to my friends’ homes, my nephew, niece, Gulsher and my dog Boofy accompanied me. Every one in Peshawar Mall Road knew us.

It was hot summer day. We all were coming home on foot from my friend’s home. It was common to walk in those days. So the Army dairy milk man dressed in his uniform with big mustaches saw us walking in burning sunlight.

He stopped his horse and carriage.  He called us.  I missed my heart bit fearing the harsh words from him.  He made us sit in the carriage n dropped us home scolding all the way that why were we roaming in the hot summer day. Boofy came home running behind.

In those days any elder person could easily guide scold children for their wrong doing. No matter which class they belonged to, parents would not mind either; rather they thanked their seniors for being so caring.

We were in Mardan. There was an old Pathan lady. Every one called her Adday meaning the aunt. She taught holy Quran. I also availed the opportunity. She had grey hair. Wrinkles on her face but her grace made her very beautiful. When she came to teach Quran she wore black, golden’n’silver embroidered velvet gown in winter and chocolate brown cotton gown in summer. She was small in size and a fragile lady. Walking with a stick she looked adorable. She taught that teacher should be gracefully dressed, punctual and regular no matter be it freezing cold or burning hot.I learnt dedication from her.

The tailor whom we called Lala (meaning brother) was such a gem of a person. He was not a rich man.   He practically proved that to say good bye to someone dear to you is to give gift as a token of love and invite them for food.

My husband was transferred to Faisalabad. So before we left Mardan, he invited us over lunch. He brought horse driven carriage for us to take us to his village.  He came riding his bicycle behind us. His wife served us luxurious lunch and presented me a healthy hen that laid eggs as a gift. He did not let me pay the fair of the Tonga as I called him brother.  In our custom brothers never let their sisters pay for anything.This shows how kind he and his family were. They were real civilized people who believed in traditional values’n’virtues.

Nawaz worked as peon where I served in school as Head. He was a very devoted and hardworking man. He used to call me Sir :). Once he came to my home. He looked around and failed to see any pedestal fan in our home nor did he see any steel pots in the kitchen. So he thought I was very poor. He very kindly sympathized  that I was poorer than him too. He over looked all the amenities we had :). He told me that when he gives out charity he will not forget me :). I nodded my head very obediently. I did not want to hurt his innocent bighearted feelings. He did remember me.  One day he gently told me in school that he will come on his cycle to take me to his home to feed me with the rich dishes he made to give away in charity. My children asked me after he left that will I sit behind him on his bicycle to go to his home. I said: “yes I will, if he comes.”

He came as he promised but not to take me. He brought with him, hot spicy biryani, sizzling kebabs and cooled custard. We all had delicious lunch with him. Since then he has been like our family member. He has moved to his village in Multan. He calls me often n visits me when ever he comes to Karachi.I cherish his innocence and purity of heart.

Gusher lived with his parents.They were seven brothers including him and had one sister, and they all used to live in our servant quarters. His mother was a very pious woman.  She wore white cotton clothes. She washed her children’s clothes and her’s daily and made them take shower daily. Her small quarter had a very neat’n’clean feeling. In hot summer days she used to serve us, the children with crushed ice mixed with brown sugar. It was a treat for us. They did not have electricity or electric fans. We also never felt the need for any fan either, though Allah had provided us with all facilities but life in our times was above all this pomp and show or status complexity.

Her cleanliness and God fearing habits helped her family live a simple and righteous life. Gusher’s brothers are designated at high level posts today due to their hard work and honesty.3 years back when I went to Peshawar they welcomed me warmheartedly. A lavish and plentiful dinner was served with an expensive shawl as a gift by Gusher’s mother. This is tradition of Pathans that they give great respect to their guests and before departing they also present gifts as token of love. I wish them all a very happy fruitful life always.

Other gems of my life are Shahid, Fayyaz, Iqbal and two Irshads. Shahid and Iqbal worked as office boys and Fayyaz worked as their supervisor in the Chinese company where I worked as health consultant.I usually had lunch with them which gave them gratification. Fayyaz daily brought hand made bread for me specially. Shahid always made sure to present me with mangoes and oranges according to seasons from his own gardens in Punjab. Iqbal though working outside Pakistan but he calls me often just to ask my well being. None of us now are in the company but they were true,sincere feelings and the respect we had for each other is still in practice.

One Irshad was sweeper in Hamdard School. When I went after few years to see my friends’n’colleagues she was there too. I embraced her which was like something divine for her though it gave me immense pleasure to see her there after so long. Other Irshad is still working at my daughter’s home. She’s a wonderful lady.  She is always smiling and compromising. We leave our house open to her when we go out with full confidence. She’s is very honest and beautiful young lady. I never see her frowning if guests come or she has to do extra work.

I consider myself very fortunate to have come across such great people. They are the ones who should be loved and respected. They are true Pakistanis. I am proud of them all. May Almighty Allah shower His blessings upon them and keep them satisfied with what they have and keep them away from greed and selfishness which prevails all around.

After clearing my tenth grade in 1st grade, I applied for admission in the 11th grade. A week after the submission of the admission form was my interview. The day came I appeared before the board. It was the first interview of my life.
The Principal sat in the center, and senior lecturers sat on her sides. She asked me about the location of Kashmir as Geography was my main subject. I confidently said: It is above Pakistan. Surprised with this unique answer, they asked me to explain. The map of Pakistan shows Kashmir on the top. The room burst out in laughter.
Another question was. Where is Rann of Kutch?
My confident answer again,
I think it is in Gujarat
They had no heart and patience to ask me any more questions.
I was to wait outside. I got given admission.
The debate season came. Having read Urdu novels from childhood, I had clear pronunciation and fluency in Urdu and English both.
The day came. As my name called, I went to the stage and stood behind the dais. The rostrum was higher than my height. The hall started hooting. I folded my speech, put it in my pocket and went to the center of the stage, and stood there for some moments peacefully. The voices died. I started my speech. After I finished came back to my seat.
When all the speakers from different colleges finished debating, the result was declared. They started from the one who stood Third. I clapped hardheartedly and kept applauding for the Second and the First with the same warmheartedness till my friend pinched me hard on my hand and said: “Stupid! D
do not clap for yourself, idiot.
I was in 3rd year of college.
There were elections for the college union. Rehana Malik was my class fellow. She was a good student and had all qualities of a good human being, but her short temper did not let her have a big circle of friends. So, she asked me to motivate others to vote for her to let her win the elections. I promised her to do so.
One day I was sitting in the college canteen sipping my tea with other friends. Rehana was there too. I did not notice her. So, I said to the girls in the canteen. Rehana Malik asked me to vote for her. In return, she will give us a treat if she wins. Though I have promised her, what do you all say? They all disagreed. I laughed without knowing that Rehana was listening.
Rehana walked up to me. Girls got scared that Rehana may not spare Tanveer (me). Rehana never spared anyone and fought with words and limbs. I sat frozen and speechless. She patted my shoulder and saying I did not feel bad to hear all this. I learned to be sincere and friendly with everyone all the time, and not only when we need support. Everyone present there cheered Rehana, and as a result, we all gave votes to her. She won the elections with flying colors.
Bilquis was my very dear and close friend. We sat next to each other in class. She was a very composed type of girl. Though we ate, enjoyed, and shared everything but quarreled all the time just for nothing. One day we went to buy some cosmetics. I did not know that there were full-size mirrors behind our back. So, when I looked in the front mirror, I saw a girl with very thick shiny black hair braided. I whispered in her ear to see the beautiful hair the girl had. She gave me a knock on my shoulder and said, Stupid, it is you!! The shopkeeper smiled naughtily, and I felt the most brainless girl in the whole wide world.
My life is full of joys and sorrows. Being a happy-go-lucky, I shrug my shoulders every time and keep moving ahead.

I am the fourteenth child of my parents.
Some decades it was possible for people to afford to have many children.
It was the only activity parents had, as there were no media to entertain them. The Breaking News did not put them alert on heels and toes so repeatedly.
Nor were there any captivating and charismatic fashion and music shows or Internet.
. So, in short, I was the fourteenth winning star of their luxury time.
Unfortunately, I saw only the eldest two out of seven brothers and six sisters, including me seven, for 12 of my siblings passed away before I was born. Let’s overlook how and why they died.
Being the youngest survived was raised like a fragile flower.
They protected me from the sun and rain. My brother didn’t let me step down the school bus myself. He carried me in his arms inside the home. I was intelligent and silly at the same time.
Too innocent to be true
I was intelligent n silly at the same time so let me elaborate n prove it to my dear wise readers to decide. Being a brainy girl, I topped in my annual exams in class KGII. I was awarded books on Annual Prize Distribution Day. My class fellow Arifa who was my friend too asked me to give those books to her to take home and show them to her parents. I happily gave them to her. But as usual, She did not bring them back the whole year. Next year the same thing happened. I won, and she took it away. I’m relieved that she never asked for my report book.
I had an only brother who was 20 years older than me and loved me dearly. He always brought gifts for me when he went outstation. Every time I took those to show to Arifa, she religiously took them to her home to show to her parents. I never got my gifts or awards back. Doesn’t it prove that I am intelligently foolish?
I was, and am even today, very silly and kindhearted. I learned First Aid. Every Sunday, ailing children and relatives of our servants used to come to get free shots and dressing of their wounds from me. Poor simple people preferred free treatment. I loved to serve them.
Gusher Khan was our full-time servant. He was sincere and faithful. One day while plucking figs, he fell from the tree.
I was reading my Science book under the oranges tree.
He had broken his ulna bone. At that very moment, I was reading how to take care of such an incident. So, I hurriedly gathered two sticks. I tied the stick, wound the bandage firmly, and put his arm in the sling.
I followed written in the science book. Gusher believed in my treatment and refused to show it to the doctor. As a result, he has the same deformed arm. Both of us never shared this with our elders.
Each Sunday, an old beggar regularly came to get one rupee coin from me. One Sunday, he came to get the coin as usual. I didn’t have it, so, asked him to follow me. I went to two of my friends’ homes in two different areas. The distance from my home was more than 2 kilometers. He followed. I asked my friends to serve him too. He enjoyed and ate all that I ate and drank. Then finally I went to the shop to get the change of a ten-rupee note.
From the shop, I came back home. As we got home, Happily, the man took and went away to come back next Sunday. What do you think folk about me now?
To develop a reading habit, my brother suggested I read books. My mother also joined in this project. She made me read out a famous Urdu novel Shama by A.R Khatoon. Though at the age of six, seven, I tried and read out that novel to my mother but believe me, I failed to understand even a single word. I went to the air force library in Peshawar and read all classic novels both in English and Urdu. I composed a letter to my brother in poetry, which he carried proudly in his pocket n showed to everyone he met. I composed! still a mystery to me
Well, it’s not the end of my follies as I have had many such silly happenings in my life. Keep smiling.
I wish you happiness and success in life.

I am, familiar with a computer for more than 21 years now. I played, learned, chatted, searched, explored, and spent my leisure time with the computer— my friend in loneliness!
I made many friends the world around regardless of sex, age, religion, or language because the internet has its language understood mutually. Once a net friend came to meet me in Florida.
I met many new friends locally n internationally as well. I believe I’m lucky to have met all good people. Some attended my daughter’s wedding too; as William Shakespeare said that nothing is good or bad, thinking makes it so! So I never doubted anyone’s intentions and always got a positive response in return. Love begets love
But like a naughty friend, my computer played pranks with me too.
I often forgot to save my data while writing. In case of a power breakdown, I ended up losing my data, and that annoyed me. I lost stuff due to this otherwise, I would have with me a lot to share. Btw every time I lost my data, I kept nagging my daughter n held her responsible.
Finally, my daughter asked me to start writing blogs, and she did so many times. But believe you or not I, felt scared of blogging as it rhymes with flogging. It might be something related to flogs and whips.
I am not only scared of blogs but banks and ATMs too.
Sounds strange and weird! Isn’t it?
Whenever I went to a bank, I grinned at every person present behind the counters. To assure them that me not here to plunder. I deliberately avoided looking at the cash counter and felt cramps in my stomach until I got out of the bank.
This fear moved furtively into my body and soul due to an incident. Once I entered a computer shop to find out if he had computer accessories. All of a sudden, I felt something hard and cold on my temple. The man holding a pistol asked me to hand over the cash.
Unfortunately, I had no cash except for some coins.
The man but did not believe me.
His pistol scared me to death. The shopkeeper was at his target too. Allah saved me as some people entered the shop and the robber got confused and went out of the shop. I’m sure he must be having a toy pistol, or he wouldn’t have left the shop.
My legs trembled, and the whole body shivered.
From that day, my son on wards does all my bank transactions.
While I’m not frightened of animals, snakes, insane people, darkness, and even bosses
Animals, insane, and darkness or spirits don’t harm us until we hurt them. It is my personal experience. As a child, I used to amuse myself in summers with splashing tap water. The dangerous wasps also cooled themselves n whirred around the tap and in water. They never injected their sting in me because I never harmed them. The snakes wriggled by me but never hurt me. The black scorpions were harmless for our entire family in Peshawar. We never killed any one of them either.
So dear readers! I am a whimsical human being!
I have written n translated books on different topics but, blogging scares me like flogging!
Though I like to accept challenges and am a very committed person too so I want to write blogs but don’t know how to start————- is there any kindhearted fellow who can guide me for I WANT TO WRITE and be a part of bloggers like I am a friend of friends on the internet and in real life too.
I would end up with William Shakespeare’s saying:
“Real love is not based on romance, candle night dinner, and walks along the beach, but in fact, is based on respect, compromise, and care

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