Just Bliss

Dear blogger friends

when i started blogging few years back i had no idea that i will continue it. Now I find it so difficult to search any blog i want at particular moment, like if i want my poetry translation of any poet i cant find the one im looking for. Its all scattered and mixed. Can i make new account on word press to put poetry of particular poet’s poetry only at one place. I’m so confused

Anyone here please guide me

Thanks and love

Tanveer

Recite Before Starting any Supplication :

اَللّٰهُمَّ صَلِّ عَلٰى مُحَمَّدٍ وَّ عَلٰى اٰلِ مُحَمَّدٍ كَمَا صَلَّيْتَ عَلٰى اِبْرَاهِيْمَ وَعَلٰى اٰلِ اِبْرَاهِيْمَ اِنَّكَ حَمِيْدٌ مَّجِيْدٌ اَللّٰهُمَّ بَارِكْ عَلٰى مُحَمَّدٍ وَّ عَلٰى اٰلِ مُحَمَّدٍ كَمَا بَارَكْتَ عَلٰى اِبْرَاهِيْمَ وَعَلٰى اٰلِ اِبْرَاهِيْمَ اِنَّكَ حَمِيْدٌ مَّجِيْدٌ

It was another disappointment for them to find that Serbia was merely a dry ocean of land for the refugees. There was a hoard of refugees there. Serbian semi government forces tried to keep refugees away from the highway. Resistance meant to face tear gas whipping. Carrying the old lady on his back he ran back and forth to save and protect her from tear gas smoke. It seemed like dooms day. Bodies of wounded or dead refugeeswere scattered in fields. This looked like a horrible setting or a dreadful dream. A group of refugees somehow reached the railway track. The others also followed them and treaded along the railway track. Abdul Wahidwas holding the old lady of Aleppo’s’ hand and kept walking with others. The old lady couldn’t walk anymore and finally she gave up. He looked at her laying unconscious on the ground.He was helpless. He didn’t know what to do. He watched refugees moving forward. Evening was swiftly drawing closer. He once again looked up at the heavens and prayed Almighty to have mercy on him. Feeling a little better, he carried the old lady on his back and kept moving forward.He walked until midnight and then his energy also gave in.  He laid the lady against an old tree and sat besides her. Being dead tired he fell asleep. Cooing of the nightingale and chirping twittering the birdsand rays of the early sun rays woke him. He looked around. He sighted wheat fields ready to be harvested. It was like gold spread everywhere. Delight and plight go side by side. He saw refugees covered with dust in muddy shattered clothes tired faces walking to land unknown. The way was barred by the Serbian police and semi government forces. Due to hunger ailments and staying day in heat and sleeping in the open under the sky, the children, weak and aged couldn’t resist the extreme weather changes hence death rate increased. The dead bodies were buried in pothole without any shroud, or grave  or tomb stone.  Abdul Wahid bought a wheel chair for $100 from a dying patient’s family for old lady. Though refuges were facing agonizing conditions of harsh weather and forces. More and more refugees came in like swarm of bees or herd of cattle. Suffering for two more days refugees were allowed to go following the muddy path beside the fields only and not touching the railway track or through the fields.

Abdul Wahid helped the old lady sit in the wheel chair, and proceeded with the refugee party. The two Syrian rebellious groups gave refugees more brutal and mercilesstreatmentthan the Syrian forces.Both groups fought with each other for no reason, just creating chaos and anarchy in the region. These shelter seekers who could have be enjoying and resting in their homes in comfortable beds and plenty of food,  were facing awful circumstances in snow clad mountainous region of Serbia. Beside the frightful weather they also faced the hatred and loathing of Serbian forces and semi government police. Days of heinous ended after all. They reached the border of Hungary. After formal registration and documentation at the refugeecheck post, Abdul Wahid followed others with lady of Aleppo in a wheel chair. Military teams of Hungary were on alert to keep refugees away from the urban areas. While coming to Hungary they were greeted with tear gas, shelling and whipping in one or more places on the way. Almost 12 days and night of walking and stopping over was one of the worst experiences of their life. They were drifters-having no land no sky no home no shelter—no one to take care either——- life was a misery!

Every limb was burning and aching, along with wounds on the body.  With beginning of snow fall and thunder storms the death rate of refugees rose to hundreds. Considering the helplessness, ailment and frailty, European Union especially the Germany Government asked Hungary government to arrange for the refugees. Thusa railway train was arranged by Hungarian Government to travel. Going in train was most pleasant journey not for Abdul Wahid and old lady of Aleppo only but for all the refugees. This beautiful journey ended at a rocky desolate stationaround 200 miles before Budapest, the capital of Hungary. After unloading the train they were asked to wait for the buses. There was no trace of any vehicle for two days. So the refugees started walking ahead. Their next destination was Germany. Abdul Wahid also accompanied thousands of refugees with his lady of Aleppo towards Germany. Pushing and pulling the wheel chair on rocky uneven track was tiresome job for Abdul Wahid but he had no other option. He was getting breathless by pushing the wheel chair on uneven track.

He remembered the song he used to sing with his friends when rowing the boat. It was rowing completion between two teams. Each team consisted of 11 participants five on each end of the boat with captain in the middle. The Rowing competition started from River Brahma Putra and ended at Dacca. The scenario of so many boats rowing was awe-inspiring. While rowing they used to sing cheerfully; “River is furious boat is old—-row, row your boat—- leisurely —– destination is afar, we have to make ardently!”

Thousands of spectators who were watching also excitedly joined them in singing.

Singing the same song he kept moving forward with old lady’s wheel chair.

He felt that while climbing the hill every child, young and old, man or woman joined him singing to make it less strenuous. His song his enthusiasm and also that he was not Abdullah (the old lady’s son) but was from Pakistan who was taking the old lady to her son in Germany.

The news spread among countless of refugees walking and covering miles of land.

The government of Hungary had set up a border check post in suburb of Keleti Railway station for the refugees. Besides Hungary other countries had also set up their NGOs offices there. Members of NGOs were trying their best to help and serve the refugees. Keleti railway station was the last stop over for the refugees. They would then move to any western European country where they would like to settle. Before Abdul Wahid’s group reached Keleti his tarnished information had spread that he was not Abdullah the son of old lady of Aleppo but he taking her to Germany to meet her son. Hence the moment they reached Keleti station he was separated from the group. The government staff dragged him to the extreme left side of the check post. Seeing he carried away so ruthlessly the old lady of Aleppo crying for Abdulla hysterically lost her senses fainting in her chair. He was also calling her—mother!O mother!But his voice silenced amidst the countless of refugees bustling sound. That very moment he heard air plane’s captain voice, announcing; “Ladies and gentlemen! We’re flying at the altitude of 30,000 feet and soon we’ll be landing in Islamabad the capital city of Pakistan. I’m sure your trip with us was pleasurable. Thank you”

The captain then guided his crew regarding landing of the plane. As the plane landed on runway of Islamabad the immigration staff entered the plane. The captain and the immigration staff exchanged document with each other. The staff didn’t accept Abdul Wahid as a Pakistani national having no significant documents. Following Pakistani Immigration staff some Hungarian staff also got in the plane. Pakistani staff believed him to a Bengali national and has illegally entered Pakistan. If we accept him as Pakistani then we’ll have to give him his legal rights as a Pakistani citizen. After two hours long debate and reaching to the decision that he should not step down on Pakistani land. The crew was asked to close the doors with Abdul Wahid inside the plane. After few minutes the plane took off to the land unknown to Abdul Wahid.

The same air hostess came to him and holding a glass of water. She waited for quiet long to get his response but he kept looking out at the hovering clouds outside the window. She gently said to him; “I’ll take special care of you during this flight” with a blank face and slight smile he took the glass of water from her hands. She again asked him politely; “Can I ask you a question if you don’t mind?” he nodded.  The air hostess asked him; “Are you Abdullah or Abdul Wahid? And which country do you belong to?” After drinking wateragreeably he replied; “My name is Abdullah and Abdul Wahid both” he could see no queries but tears in her eyes of sympathy being a man of no land. He then softly said to her; “I belong to no land. I’m not a citizen or national of any country. I’m just a traveler of a lost caravan! The flight got misbalanced tumbling into air pocket. But within no time the plane got stabled. They could hear the captain; “Due to bad weather the plane was slightly out of balance. But this is something usual. There’s no danger so no worry” the airhostess went to her serving cabin. Abdul Wahid kept looking at the floating clouds outside the plane———

contd ———-camp to ashes”

The management  understood his emotions and mental stress, and allowed the old lady of Aleppo to be treated kindheartedly on compassionate grounds.

He took care of her like his own mother. He would feed her like a baby. Dress her, comb her hair, set her bed and did whatever he could to comfort her. They both sat silent just looking at each other with tears flowing. One day the lady asked his name.“My name isAbdul Wahid” he said in Arabic accent. Taking his hand in hers she said; “You are Abdullah; my second son, Abdullah” she continued; “Early in 2015 my son Abdullah went from Turkey to Greece with Syrian refugees. From there managed to sailtoGermany. His name is Abdullah. My husband and I were supposed to go to Germany the same way he went. But one day there was heavy air raid and strafing. My husband was killed and I was left all alone. The building and the apartment we lived in devastated along with my valuables and money I had saved. Now I’m penniless.No husband, no money——- I can never see my only son Abdullah” she bitterly wept after saying all that she went through. Wiping her tears with her veil, Abdul Wahid assured her that he will take her to her son. He said; “Don’t weep please. I promise you, I’ll take you to your son. Just don’t worry about money. I have plenty of it.” After few days Abdul Wahid resigned from his job. And the next day the old lady of Aleppo and Abdul Wahid started for Germany with a group of refugees. The truck that was taking them was closed from all sides except for door with holes at the rear so that the people inside could breathe. The owner of the truck and its driver were Kurdish Turks. After many hours of non-stop driving, the truck stopped at a desolate place. The driver sternly asked the passengers to get down for eating or drinking or stretch.He said; “We’ll stay here for an hour then will proceed again” Thus after an hour or so he uploaded the passengers like luggage and started off for new destination. Continuously driving for two days he stopped at a place and howled like a wolf  telling passengers to get down. “Get down immediately. We have reached Turkey’s city Bodrum in province of Mugla. Hurry up—-hurryup—don’t waste my time” there are hundreds of refugees. Abdul Wahid could hear from afar the splashingsound of waves as Bodrum is a town on the southern Aegean coast of Turkey.After waiting for a few hours he saw an old boat on the sea shore. It might have been used  for fishing  beforeWithout knowing and without even considering the number of people it could carrypeople boarded it. He also boarded with others and old lady of Aleppo. Some people wore life jackets, and some had air tight motor bike tube around their necks to be able to swim in case of emergency. Finally the boat started its voyage.  No one in the boat had any idea as to where they are going and what’s in their destiny. Passing by many islands of Greece the boat came to a place where captivating melodious tweet, cooing;chirping of innumerous birds was heard. He woke up hearing those sounds so he tried to locate the place it came from but he could not see anythingbut water all around. Up above the grey sky, dull grey morning seemed to come together. The sounds of birds was the indication that they were near some shore. He saw his old lady who was there like a knapsack among passengers.

Abdul all of a sudden stood up and shouted; Allah o Akbar! Allah- o-Akbar! The ones sleeping awoke with his voice and also joined him saying Allah o Akbar!

Some energetic men jumped into the water while old, sick ladies and children waited for the boat bring to come to a halt at the shore properly so they could get down. The boatsman also announced; “Your destination, Europe is here!Macedonia is a few days from here if you walk, or you could to to anywhere in Europe”

Traveling for so many days nonstop in boat made limbs tired out so the people threw themselves on the shore. The NGOs had already made arrangement for food, shelter and medical assistance in camps for Syrian refugees.But the new refugees were to spend wintry night under the sky and day under the searing sun.He then along with others proceeded from there to unseen destination with his old lady of Aleppo. They walked as long as their feet could carry them. Then sat to rest their body and got up again to tread on for new horizon. They kept walking and stopping over when got tired and couldn’t walk any more. Getting along for a day and night they met an NGO that provided transport for the old, sick, women and children. The men had to go on foot from Macedonia to Serbia.He was given the token of Family #1 to show that he had one family member. Hence when he entered the border of Serbia he met the old lady of Aleppo.

He recalled a Friday when  people were offering Jumma prayer in ruined mosques when there was air raid on Eastern side of Aleppo. The whole city turned into debris of flesh, blood and dust within no time.Causalities of Rebellious Militant’s were less in number compared tocivilians.There was chaos everywhere.  Screams, sighs, whine and depression prevailed in the entire neighborhood. The excavation work started toremovebodies from the rubble.Even after two days, they kept pulling the bodies from the rubble.

It was  the second day after bombardment, and there wasmassive destruction on the Eastern side of Aleppo. They still had to count the dead bodies. They still had to calculate the damage and cost ofdestruction caused  by this attack. To Syrian Airforce raided the western side of Aleppo once again to provide support to the rebellion militants.Human bodies scattered all over the place as blood poured on the streets. It wassuch a horrid sight that one would not want to recall, but its difficult to forget it either.

Leaving his colleagues behind, he moved to western side in his ambulance. It was as if there was competition between two parties to kill.  They wanted tosee which force kills more residents, rather than havevictory over the territory. The rescue parties got exhausted digging out the corpses.  The dead were in colossal number  there seemed to be no end.. He was carrying the  body of a two year old child from the remains of a building and was running towards his ambulance, when he sawa storm of dust raising from another building.  While on the west, the flameswererising high with the wind, making the atmosphere ghastly and ghostly. Though for many years he had been working in Iraq and Syria with rescue teams or other rescue services but he had never seen such a deadly sight. Looking up at the sky then looking at the body of a child he felt desperate cursing the inhuman act. Then he caught sight of a building in flames just at a distance. An oldwoman drenched in blood was screaming for help from the second floor of the residential apartments.This lady reminded him of his mother, and he felt as if his mother was calling him for help.  He recalled when hismothercalled for help from the second floor of the building in Moti Bazaar mohalla in TejGunj, a city of previously East Pakistan and now Bangladesh.The MuktiBahini’s fanatical workers threw kerosene oil on the burning building to cause more damage and fatalities rather than help his mother. A twelve year old boy was watching his apartment on fire from across the road in someone else’s home while his mother was calling for help. He kept screaming for help but in vain. The occupant of the house put hands on his mouth and took him to other room. They all were helpless. The boy’s younger sister Mariam sat trembling with terror. The boy finally got exhausted of screaming, and fell asleep where as his mother burnt to ashes. Few days later his father came to them after getting through many hurdles,  and took both himand his sister during the darkness of night. (He was the boy who had gone  through this chaos and mayhem)

He didn’t know where was his father was taking him and his sister. Hence on the way he asked his father; “Where are we going, dad?” his father replied in heartening voice; “Son, I have no idea myself”.  They kept moving in dark crossing groves, ditches  and furrows until the end of the next day  when the sun was ready togo down. They reached a place where frightened women, children and  elders. There he also saw some men in armed forces uniform. Few days later he came to know that in TejGunjMuktiBahini attacked, looted and plundered the homes of the non- Bengalis and people of West Pakistan who they called Biharis. Pakistani armed forces set up a refugee camp to help and save the victims. The victims then migratedto Burma.They walked for miles and miles, crossed rivers, mountains and  forests. The homeless and wretched people who had come all the way from Bangladesh stayed there for two or more years. During their stay his father  worked odd jobs for survival. His father then decided to go back to his country, Pakistan. Unfortunately when all arrangements were made to move to Pakistan his father was offered a lucrative job in a small bridge manufacturing factory. But his father was determined to return to his own land. Refusing the offer they came to Pakistan. Being a teen ager he had no idea of what’s happening and why.He remembered that his mother often used to say to her husband; “We should better go away from here” he inquired; “Mother why do you so often ask father to leave this place. But why do you say this? Why and where should we go?”

She once replied; “Your father’s family and my parents all lived in Delhi, Chand Qidwai Chowk behind Post Office near Reshmi Haveli. At the time of partition both your paternal and maternal parents migrated to West Pakistan. Your father was then serving Railways as engineer. He was given special training by British to place railway track on and soggy and boggy areas. We also planned to move to West Pakistan with our families and relatives. The Government made special request to stay back in East Pakistan as he was one of the few with expertise in laying railway track. Hence we stayed back in East Pakistan. The frame you see hung on the wall in the external room above the book shelf has the same letter that Quaid e Azam wrote to your father asking him to go to East Pakistan. Considering that letter your father cancelled his program of going to West Pakistan”.

But now the letter, mother and the entire house is history. All burnt to ashes. His father, younger sister Mariam and self were still alive, butsince that dreadful incident father remained quiet and lost in thoughts most of the time. His father held himself responsible for all that horrible incident.

He was so occupied in his memories that could not hear sound of blasts or rumbling of buildings. He heard a feeble yelp of the old lady who was still asking for help. She was not calling from the second floor but she was in the midst of flames, heat and smoke. She was half conscious and hunched from her balcony like a worthless thing. He placed the body of the child he was carrying in his arms in the ambulance and started yelling; “Mother! I’m coming”, and he ran towards her. He was in such frenzy that falling buildings, blazing flames were out of his sight. He was fearless and daring at that moment. The old lady of Aleppo was then his mother in TejGunj of Moti Bazaar who was in agony in a burning home surrounded by fire,stinks and smokesand needed him. He entered the building jumping over things that were burning and breaking apart. He had no idea of the building and  how to get to the second floor.  Somehow or the other he managed to get to the second floor. The old lady was in the midst of fire, mud and smoke. She could notendure the heat and smoke so she fell in the balcony almostsemi-conscious. Without wasting a moment he carried her out on his back. She was like a dead body hanging down half in front of him and half at his back. Once again he looked up in the sky begging Almighty to save the old lady. Speedily and daringly he got out of the flames, smoke and breaking and falling of the building’s structure.He placed the body of the child on the front seat next to the driver’s seat. The he laid the old lady on the stretcher in the ambulance.

After sitting in the ambulance he drove at the fastest speed and went straight to the hospital in his camp. Carrying the lady on his back he started shouting hysterically; “The lady on my back is not the old lady of Aleppo——she’s my mother—- if she’s not treated here and taken care of, I swear I’ll burn myself and this camp to ashes”