Friday, April 17, 2015

AN ESSAY ON CORRUPTION

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  9.                             AN ESSAY ON CORRUPTION

No trade in Pakistan is possible unless one greases the palms of the concerned authorities . In Islam , who bribes for his work to be done commits a greater sin than who takes the bribe .

When was  I attending the NIPA course preparatory to promotion (which was not in my fate) to the next higher grade , there was a visiting professor who belonged to a famous university . He had been passed over to become a bureaucrat    . In each session , he would make a dig at the country’s bureaucracy . He is not alone in making this dig . There may be others like him .  A case of sour grapes.

It is  universally acknowledged that ‘corruption’ is a world wide phenomenon , not only in Pakistan . It did not save the image of the European Royalty from being soiled . Princes Philip of the UK and Bernard of the Netherlands were accused of obtaining ‘hush-hush’ money . Of course , their cases never saw the daylight .

In every third world country the division between the haves and the have nots is more acute than elsewhere in the world and hence the feeling is greater. Even ,in Pakistan , where the country was founded on the slogan of Islam , the society has become  rotten to the core .However , while discussing corruption ,we tend to focus on the country’s bureaucracy alone . We do not even consider other field or professions . The management and employees of each Pharmaceutical companies are aware of the company’s sponsored overseas visit of doctors .Do they not fall under the definition of ‘ Corruption’ . In addition , doctors prescribe of particular favoured companies .

As I former ‘bureaucrat’ , I had many opportunities to meet journalists who were willing to change their reports for a cup of
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tea. Or journalists visiting foreign embassies located in Islamabad  for a bottle of whiskey . There are many instances in my career when journalists gave negative twists in their reports , if annoyed . I remember an occasion when the late Ahmed Nadeem Qasimi gave a twist in his column in his newspaper . The media is instrumental in promoting or demoting of individuals , not only here in Pakistan but everywhere .   These days many news of the wrongdoings of journalists are floating in the air of Islamabad .

The older generation on the virgin soil of Pakistan  started this practice . How they afforded maintaining cars or traveling by air in their meager salary ? It does not need rocket science to imagine .

An ‘accursed’ bureaucrat .

Mahfooz ur Rahman
Islamabad
Dated November 10, 2012         



An Eid to remember

                                                                                                                                                                                                                         27skip to main | skip to sidebar

    8.                                                   An Eid to remember.

A tribute to two great friends ,Dr.Ghazi Haqqi (late) and Dr.Agha Ikram Mohyuddin , who is battling against  severe illnesses.
On the day of Eid ul Azha , I phoned the widow of Dr.Ghazi Haqqi ,herself a cousin, remembering that on each Eid , he and I would exchange greetings . I felt very sad on the passing away(September 27 , 2013) of a great friend . The feeling of sadness was with me for days . But nature is a great healer and with daily  mundane affairs , the feeling ebbed .
On the third day of Eid , my family and I went to see another great friend , Dr. Agha Ikram Mohyuddin , who is battling a stroke for the past ten years . His brave and gracious wife told us that her husband was in and out of a hospital . She told us that her family was remembering us the other day . I thought there was a mild rebuke in it . We told her that out of compulsions we were not able to visit them earlier . On entering Dr.Mohyuddin’s room , I walked towards him and held his hand  . I could see the agony writ on his face . He not could express any feelings. Illness had reduced him to a vegetable .
1.    Dr. Ghazi Haqqi .

Ghazi was my  real aunt’s son . His mother was my father’s sister . My first vivid recollection  of his was  at her house in Sheikhpura when my late mother and I were visiting her during the summer vacations in 1955 . This house was  adjacent to a  small church . The house had a large courtyard where we played cricket with my cousins , my aunt five sons , Musleh Bhai , Salah Bhai . Shuja Bhai , Ghazi Bhai (it was in only 2007 during my wife and my visit to Karachi to participate in another cousin’s funeral that Ghazi told me that he and I shared the same year of birth) and Abid .In the afternoons , we played a game called ‘London’. The visit was pure fun .

In 1967 , I stayed with my aunt in Karachi for five months . Opposite her house, a Christian family lived who came to Karachi from Goa . Mrs.D’Souza was a widow and she lived with her only son, Levy,  who worked for a foreign airline as a Pursar . On Christmas , Ghazi and I went to wish them the season’s
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greetings . They invited us into the drawing room . The scene was a sight to behold . On a big table were placed very fancy goodies to eat .

However , one day when both Ghazi and I were in a mood to play pranks , we crossed to road and approached a papaya tree to pluck ripe and unripe fruit  from the outside  her house .After leaving the tree bare , we returned to our house .In the evening , she came out . She became wretched seeing her bare tree . She called both of us . We felt really sorry for her .

Employment drove us into different directions .He became a doctor . Joined the army before the 1971 war and left after it was over while I joined the Civil Services . Of and on we used to communicate with each other .

In  June 2003 , my family and I moved into a Government bungalow in I-8/1 , Islamabad . I was busy in building a new house . One day , he phoned me while staying with his in laws in Islamabad . I took him home to share pot luck with us . On entering the house , he left the car and raised his hands to pray . He prayed for a long time for us and our prosperity . After lunch , we moved to see our under- construction house . He was very happy . We stayed at the site for two hours . He met my contractor and each labourer . While leaving the place , he again raised his hands and prayed .

He made it a point to attend my younger daughter’s wedding and gave her a very precious gift . He came for a day and flew back to Karachi . On the birth of my first grandson , he phoned the private hospital to greet my daughter .

Whenever I faced a medical problem , the first thing was to phone him . He was always available to me whether at home , or his clinic and even at the Golf Course .

I say a silent prayer for him because silent grief is more majestic .

2.    Dr. Agha Ikram Mohyiddin .    

I don’t remember how he became my friend . It was in 1971 . Perhaps he came to me in my official capacity . He lived with his Dutch wife and two young daughters adjacent to my cousin’s in Satellite Town ,Rawalpindi. My cousin
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was all praise for him and his wife . Separated from her husband( he left her for an English nurse ) , she had to bring up two minor sons as a single mother . Whenever  they were ill , Dr. Ikram would take them to the doctor . When I met him , I was deeply impressed by his gentle and kind behaviour . He belonged to that  the rare breed of men who behave correctly .

We belonged to different professions : he a reputed Entomologist  who qualified his doctorate from an established western university and I a common civil servant : one of a hundred civil servants found in Pakistan .

Gradually , we became very close to each other . We began visiting each other  and meeting each other’s families. They were lovers of books and I used to borrow books from him and particularly her because I longed to visit far off places  .

In June 1987 , I fell ill .  Despite my handicap  and his official pre-occupations , he used to visit me regularly . On the occasion of Eid  every year , he would bring me a leg of mutton . Every time he went abroad , he would bring chocolates and candy for my children .

His wife , despite belonging to a different culture , has adopted the Pakistani way of life . When their daughters were younger , Mrs. Mohyuddin would supervise the teaching of the Noble Quran by sitting beside the children when the Maulana came. On another occasion , Saad , my son , soiled his clothes when she was visiting my wife . The latter was in the kitchen preparing tea .Mrs. Mohyuddin quietly got up to clean Saad . She dressed him and then went into the kitchen to tell my wife . We deeply appreciated her gesture .

When I was serving as a Deputy Secretary in the Cabinet , I drew up a list of  deserving names for the grant of Civil Awards pursuant to the Cabinet Secretary’s instructions as Cabinet Division’s recommendations   .I considered a singular honour to recommend names over and above names approved by the Secretaries Committee .Among the names recommended by me were Dr.Ikram Mohyuddin (Awarded), Dr.(Late) Muhammad Sibtain Bokhari (a fine friend ),  and Mr. Eugene Nasir(Awarded) , a Professor of Gordon College , Rawalpindi , who developed the finest herbarium in Asia .Among the artistes recommended by yours truly were Ms Roohi Bano(Awarded) , Ms Ishrat
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Hashmi (Awarded), Ms Arshe Munir(Awarded) . However , I was deeply disappointed for two reasons
A.  Dr.Mohyuddin was awarded when I was no longer in the Cabinet Division .
B.    He was awarded Tamgha I Imtiaz only . I thought he deserved a Sitara I Imtiaz for the work he did.

My family’s and my prayers  with him , and his family , that Allah may Bless him with good health .

Such people bring sunshine and great  joy to our lives


Mahfooz ur Rahman
ISLAMABAD
OCTOBER 19 , 2013 


  

Diversity of Pakistan

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7. A well wisher  emailed a series of pictures of  Pakistan taken by an American and published  under the heading of “Diversity of Pakistan “ .
Looking at the pictures , I dared  to question myself  if  I am confused ? Yes sir , I am confused . Which is Pakistan , I belong ? And which Islam,  I belong ? 
From the beginning ,I had been taught at home and in the mosque that Allah is One , the belief in the Prophet ( Peace and Blessings of Allah  be upon him ) , the Quran and the Day of Judgement . And seek help from Allah in moments of distress . What represents Islam at least in Pakistan is anything but Islam in its true spirit .
My forefathers , my parents and we were/are educated but old fashioned Muslims . My father was deeply devoted to me because I was the only child . But when it came to discipline , he was very severe particularly coming before sunset  . However when I joined service , he allowed me late nights . By then , my habits had been firmed up . My children and I try to lead a straight forward life even though we are highly educated . Never the less we gape in awe at the ‘swanky’ scenes ,  beach and all night parties and the party dresses worn by ladies from the elite . Facebook showed a picture of a  Pakistani female in the nude.
My confusion is that that kind of societies can be found everywhere in the world even in posh places in India .What was , and is , the difference between India and Pakistan ? Why create a
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separate country  “ for the Muslims”? Who  can and who will pay the compensation for the lives lost during Partition ? My family opted for Pakistan . We lost lives and property .     

FROM IPSWICH TO HASAN ABDAL VIA DEHRA DUN.

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6.    All old Abdalians who saw the good days -An ode for a devoted teacher(Mr.Hugh Catchpole)
September 3, 2011 at 1:19am



FROM IPSWICH TO HASAN ABDAL VIA DEHRA DUN.

Throughout one’s life, one meets many individuals; people of all sorts. My Principal in the Cadet College, Hasan Abdal between the period 1957 - 1958 when I was a young cadet there was for me the most unforgettable character in my life.

Mr. Catchpole came from Ipswich, an English town and joined the Military Academy, Dehra Don, India. Amongst the boys he taught there were Air Marshals Asghar Khan and Nur Khan and Lt Gen. Fazal e Haq.

I came into contact with Mr. Catchpole when I appeared in a competition for entering the Cadet College. I was interviewed by a board comprising of three members. Mr. Catchpole sat in the middle as the chairman of the board. After asking me the routine questions such as my name and my father’s name and my father’s designation, he turned to the gentleman sitting on his left, a brigadier who asked a couple of more questions. Then the gentleman on the right representing the Punjab Education Department asked me more questions. Finally, Mr. Catchpole faced me without batting an eyelid and said that I had put down on my application form that I played cricket and asked me who was the best batsman in the world. I replied to him that there was a tussle going on between Peter May of England and Clyde Walcott of the West Indies as to who was the best batsman in the world. There was a big pause in which I feared that I was not
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going to be selected to join the College. Finally, he replied in the negative and said that the best batsman in the world was Mr. Catchpole. He also told me that I was shortly going to join the College and anyone asked me who was the best bowler in the world my reply should be Mr. Catchpole.

Later on I came to know through a friend, a cadet himself, (Late)Gul Taher Niazi , that he went to see the Principal to find out about my marks .Mr Catchpole told him that I secured only 15 marks in Mathematics however my marks in English were 72. However, the Principal told him in his special way of speaking that I was shortly going to join the College.

I joined the Cadet College, Hasan Abdal in April 1957 and left in June 1961. My stay there was the most remarkable period of my life. A few weeks of my joining I was in the swimming pool learning to swim. I was at the shallow end of the pool when in walked the Principal. He came to me and asked me if I knew swimming. I lied to him. But I was not prepared for what happened afterwards. He beckoned a class fellow and a friend from schooldays to give me some duckings. Akhtar Mahmood Dad, now a Director (Engineering) with PTV, Islamabad, gave me six duckings. I tried to shout and abuse Akhtar but I could not do a thing because water was coming out from nose and eyes and I felt helpless. But the connivance between the principal and the student taught me swimming and I was no longer afraid of water. Rather I treated it as a friend.

Mr. Catchpole taught us English and translation both from English to Urdu and vice versa, He also taught the tenses and the lesson learnt then benefited us till this time. His pet Urdu sentence was “ Jab main apni saheli kay ghar poncha tu maloom hua kay vo kissi aur kay saath chali gai hai (When I reached the house of my beloved I came to know that she has left with somebody else). In the
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College the passing marks were 60% to prepare the cadets for the Board examinations where the passing
marks were 33%. Once I got 58 out of 100, two marks less than the required percentage of 60%. A dear friend of mine, Aftab, had 59 %. Together we went to the Principal at his house situated on the campus at 4 PM . We both thought that we had been invited by Mr. Catchpole for tea .His house was the last one. I was the bolder of the two .I knocked at the door. A servant appeared. Now I realized that the servant was aware of the purpose we had came for. Many others came and went through the same portals .He bade us to sit in the drawing room .In the drawing room, there was a small glass paneling in the opposite wall through which everything was visible. It was through this glass panel I saw what turned out to be my greatest fear that the Principal was choosing a cane to beat the poor boys. I was watching his every action from my vintage point. He raised his right hand and I could see the glistening cane in the late afternoon sunlight. And then a yell “ahh” pierced the daylight out of me.

That done, Mr. Catchpole appeared in the doorway to beckon me. When I entered the Principal’s study the other boy had vanished into the air. The same routine was followed and the cane was chosen to hit my derriere. He threw a biscuit on the carpet and asked me to pick it up. I bent down. The cane hit my bottom with a lightening speed and I was only able to exclaim “ahh“. He again told me to pick the biscuit. Again the rod hit me. He was well satisfied that he did not need me further. He opened the other door to let me go warning me not to tell the others what happened to me.

Mr. Catchpole was a very stern disciplinarian. He could not brook any nonsense from the students nor for that matter from anyone. College rules were meant to be obeyed. Once a group of senior cadets went to see a late night show at the local cinema after the lights out time.
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Despite their disguise, they were discovered, caught and brought to the college. The Principal summoned them the
next morning and gave them three hours to leave the college.

However, he was also very friendly with the cadets of the college. He was accessible to every cadet at all times. There were six wings (hostels) viz. Jinnah, Aurangzeb, Liaqat, Omer, Haider and Iqbal on the campus. Mr Catchpole made it point to go to each wing in turn. Sometimes during the study hour in the evening. But mostly when the boys were enjoying their recreation period, he would appear from nowhere and challenge the boys to various indoor games. He would bet on winning but invariably lost on purpose.

Apart from playing indoor games, he liked playing cricket and football. Whenever there was a match on the campus, he was always there either as a participant or as a spectator playing with the game.

He left the Cadet College to become the Principal of the Pakistan Air Force College, Sargodha in October 1958. But despite the fact that he was not there any more, he ruled over our hearts and minds.

Once a very dear friend, Tariq Ikram, now the Chairman of the Export Promotion Bureau, met him in Lahore many years after his leaving our College asked Mr Catchpole if he had recognized the former. The latter immediately asked if the boy’s father was still in jail, a reference to the latter father’s profession. His father was the Inspector General of Prisons of West Pakistan. He had an elephantine memory. One month after our marriage in April 1975, we went to Abbottabad on a belated honeymoon. We also went to see Mr Catchpole, then an English teacher in the Abbottabad Public School. I knocked at his door .He opened the door and, in his usual
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frankness, told me that he was to supervise a cricket match and he had only ten minutes for me. I entered the
room. After asking about his health, I asked him if he recognised me. He took me to a wall in the room on which were placed group photographs of various entries to the College .He placed his finger on my picture taken in 1957 when I had just entered the College.

I last met Mr Catchpole in 1979 in my office in the Ministry of Commerce. He had come to obtain an export permit for his car to drive to India and back. He mentioned that he had Rs 200000/- with which he wanted to set up a trust by dividing the amount equally between the Cadet College, Hasan Abdal and the PAF College, Sargodha. Such was the intensity of his love for his two alma maters and for the boys of these two Colleges.

MAHFOOZ UR RAHMAN
ISLAMABAD
An old Abdalian ( from April 1957 to June 1961)


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All art is a mirror to society.

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5.                          All art is a mirror to society.

Art in all in its form is mirror to society . Unfortunately how many times we change mirrors , our reflection is really very ugly , wicked and macabre . From my teenage years , I have become an enfant terrible

However , a few goods first . I had an acknowledgement from my eye specialist to thank me for my comments in my essay ‘Why am I confused ?( Part II). I told Dr.Shakaib Anwar that every person we meet in our daily lives is a portable x-ray machine which etches vivid images of our behaviour . I did’nt wish to use that hackneyed saying that beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder .However, I further told him that whatever I say or write comes from the heart . I do not know any other way . Therefore , please bear with me for a while .

The good doctor mentioned of his plan to leave Pakistan and move elsewhere in search of a better life . My surviving son has similar plans and so do we . We wish to remain in peace and harmony far away from the humbug ; the daily existence . At my age , peace and harmony is what we want . My family and I want peace with life and that why I decided to move to the suburbs of Islamabad . But even there , there is an interference with our lives .In the west ,nobody interferes with another one’s life till one asks .And yet there are very keen to help each other and even strangers . On buses, trains or trams each is absorbed in his reading . However ,if one asks the driver or the police on duty the way , they tell one till one is completely satisfied .

.In my two essays entitled ‘Why am I confused ‘ (Parts I and II), I tried to describe ailments in our society as I see and tried to compare them with the teachings of Islam.

I read a book by M.A. Burke , one time Permanent Representative for Pakistan to the U.N.O. in New York .In one of the chapters entitled ‘Jinnah , Ayub and Bhutto’ , he described the politicians of the Punjab wily , cunning and crooked . Before Partition , they claimed to be saints and holy men to exploit the gullible and ignorant masses .This image has not improved .Whether it is the Punjab , or Sindh , the newly named Province of Khyber Pushtan Khwa or
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Baluchistan the exploitation has not ended . Rather it has increased . Islam detest exploitation in all forms and manifestation. The so called leaders whom the masses voted are parasites sucking the blood of the masses . For eg none of the so called leaders pay taxes while enjoying the perks and privileges of office . Indeed the wealthiest of the lot do not build either schools nor hospitals in their area . Before Partition , Hindus and Christians build schools and hospitals . In the USA and in Europe , people with money establish schools , colleges , universities , hospitals and museums. The Ford Foundation , the Rockefeller Foundation , the Carnegic Trust , the Ted Turner Trust , the Guggenheim Museum and the Museum of Modern Art are a few examples. On the contrary , our wealthy deny education to the people in their area as against the Islamic principle to make it incumbent for each man and woman to seek knowledge .

When Pakistan became independent , a lot of people , who had left all they possessed to come to a new land which they wished to fashion according to the golden principles of the Holy Quran. They are now disillusioned and feel deeply betrayed . Instead of Islam , they found exploitation at every step . They began to ask questions among themselves as the difference between Pakistan and other parts of the world .

Naturally they and their children learnt the difficult art of surviving in the new land . When I was young , the word ‘refugee’ was used within my hearing to describe me so much so that I used to say that I belonged to Sheikupura ,where my widowed aunt lived ,to hide my refugee status . And for a very long time , the Government forms that were used, had a column to describe that status . In 1972 ,  the first language riots occurred in Karachi .

Once when my dear friend fell into an evil company , his mother , an educated and a very noble lady , told him to pray with her every time she prays. After three or four days , he realized, while reciting Surah Fatiha , what he did was evil . Even 64 years of the country’s independence and after 64 years of praying to Allah asking Him to show the straight path , we are in the wilderness . We believe that Allah is Perfect If so , then the ugly and wicked things lie with us .


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Last week , there is a news item in which a father in law accused his son and his daughter in law of stealing gold jewellery and handed them over to the police . The police used an unique way of torturing her. In another incident , a fake pir tortured a young boy with heated iron rods to exorcise him from evil beings . In a third incident , the policeman on duty along with five of his friends allegedly gang raped a married woman . In a fourth incident , there were reports that police had recovered 500 bottles of imported liquor .Such reports are rife in the presence of the Haddood Ordinance promulgated by General Zia in the early eighties .

The media , both print and electronic , is now free , a gift from General Musharraf . Murder , theft and rapes are common in every big city . But the city police in other parts of the world make every effort to catch the offender . And almost invariably they succeed . However , about our law enforcement agencies , the less the better .

The first welfare state was established in Medina in the Holy Prophet’s (Peace and Blessings of Allah be upon him ) lifetime and under the Divine Guidance . Shortly after his migration from Mecca to Medina , he  enacted the Charter of Medina outlining the rights and obligations of the Muslims and the Jews . Similarly the Christians were given rights when a deputation from the St. Catherine Monastery met him . The institutions of Zakat and Bait ul Maal were established in the regime of General Zia ul Haq . We have no knowledge of the number of people who are given benefits from them . However , the number of people living below the poverty line speaks volumes that the money so collected is being misused . Quite often , the Government of Pakistan uses the money for meeting the deficit.

We have been taught about the spirit of sacrifice in Islam . After the Battle of Uhud , three companions of the Holy Prophet (Peace and Blessings of Allah be upon him ) were fatally wounded and each one was moaning for water . When water was given to one companion , he suggested that it may given to his brother who ,too ,was mortally wounded . The second man suggested the third one . By the time , water carrier reached the first companion , he died . In the same way , the three died .


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In the month of Ramazan in Islamabad , one can see the spirit of sacrifice at 12 PM on each Friday at every major crossing when the offices close. Each motorist and others are in a rush to reach home when one pray in any city’s mosque. Before the month of the Ramazan ,Government declares the office timings during Ramazan as 8 AM to 1 PM. On the first day at 12.30, I tried to telephone my junior .But it was futile . I climbed the stairs to reach his room The passage was blocked by rows prayer matting . The next day , I called the Section officer in charge of administration and told him that the Government had revised the office timings but it did not revise the prayer timings . The timings for the Zuhr prayers would remain unchanged . Why we shirk our work during Ramazan when Islam has not decreed it . This was not liked by staff in the Ministry ,of course ..

I had a chance meeting with the author of an Urdu book ‘Maut ka Manzar’. I bought two copies of it :  one for my dear friend , Ishaq , another one for me . During discussions about life in Europe , I found him to be a perverted man . I told them that in the west each person minds one’s business . They never talk about anyone behind one’s back . Ishaq’s daughter , who read it , asked her father as to how did know what happens after our deaths because the secret is known to Allah alone . And the second cleric shared the phenomenon of perversion.

It is an article of faith with me that Allah has not delegated His Attributes to forgive or punish to anyone. Had He done so the difference Islam and Christianity (apart from other differences) would have disappeared because in Christianity the priest forgive the sinner of his sins regardless of its gravity . . When I fell ill two bearded men came to see me : I knew only of them. One of them passed judgment on me that I was a sinner and that illness was my punishment .

It is an article of faith with that the Holy Prophet (Peace and Blessings of Allah be upon ) was an ideal man to be followed . However , we are often involved in non issues .

During his campaign of promoting English because he thought that English would the language of the future , Sir Syed Ahmad Khan was reviled . Time has proved that he was right . Even in India , those who could converse in that
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language are living comfortably . Similarly Allama Iqbal criticized during his lifetime . But after his death , even Ulema Karam do not hesitate in quoting his verses . In a light vein , Ulema Karam have made parodies of Indian songs by using the rhythm .

I believe that Islam came to the world to unite and not divide . However , after 64 years of Pakistan’s existence , the successive governments have succeeded in dividing Pakistan . The Baluch , the Sindhi , the Pathan and the Punjabi are all men of honour and they are simple and God fearing Muslims . However , one needs to analyze why we are divided . I remember the late Mr. Khalid Ishaq’s gesture by inviting me to his private library to consult books . I also remember my visit to Sukkur and how I was accommodated in the Irrigation Rest House by the Superindenting Engineer , Mr. Abdul Haque . Shoaib Ahmad , the great  friend of my late son , Mustafa ,and his parents are very dear to us . All of them do not come from my hometown.

Before we claim to be a citadel of Islam , let us start putting our own house in order.


AFFECTS OF INVASION ON THE RACES , CUSTOMS AND TRADITIONS OF THE INVADED COUNTRIES.

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 4.                   AFFECTS OF INVASION ON THE RACES , CUSTOMS AND TRADITIONS OF THE INVADED COUNTRIES.
While having lunch with Mr. Oswaldo Nogerol , the Director Training of GATT ( RENAMED AS WTO) once , two fellow participants , a gentleman from Mexico , and another from Peru , entered the GATT Cafeteria in Geneva . I looked very intently . My fellow participant from Mexico looked every inch a Mongol. The other had features of an Arab . The more I looked at them the more I found delving into history in my mind . Finally , I discussed it with Mr. Nogerol  , a man I admired much for his learning and having a great  private library which made me envious . He had another quality that he never liked controversy . However , he was not able to answer my questions save that Mexico was ruled by the Incas in the past .
Suddenly , I found the correct answer to my curiosity . I explained to Mr. Nogerol that Spain was ruled for 800 years by the Arabs . They married the native women  after the women embraced Islam  and had children. After the Arabs were thrown out by Ferdinand and Isabella , a process of re conversion to Christianity began . Many Spaniards migrated have migrated .. The ancestors of the Peruvian may have also to South America.
I discussed  with him the possibility of research on the subject .
Again while returning home from a lecture  during the same GATT Course, I was  approached by a group of Arabs . One of them came face to face with me and asked me if I was an Arab . I replied in the negative  and told them that I was a Pakistani . However , I also them that my forefathers came from Mecca . They migrated to Kabul and then came to India .  
 The topic ‘EFFECTS OF INVASION ON THE RACE , CUSTOMS AND TRADITIONS OF THE INVADED COUNTRIES ‘ appears  interesting . I
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don’t know if anybody conducted research on the topic . I wish to do so . But I studied history up to college . Besides my pre occupations with official duties and the children growing up , I was in awe of the University dons and the fear of being rejected by them .Now the awe has disappeared when my late son , Mustafa Mahfooz, opted for a PhD programme in Applied Mathematics  I had chances of association with his professors . 
Alexander invaded Afghanistan . Greeks married the local women . The progeny the pathans are very handsome . Assyrians came to Syria , Lebanon , Jordan and Palestine . The Vikings , the Huns , the Aryans to Europe.
However , my official duties and family obligations demanded my full attention prevented my thinking about research on the topic . With the children grown up and  I am leading a retired life , I have plenty of time at my disposal . However , factors still prevent from undertaking the task .
v    I am 68 years and sick . I do not know how many years I have to live . I would not like to leave the research unfinished .
v      I have no access to libraries/ universities  being sick and old .
 I am also writing  to universities  to sell the idea willing to work on it.
Mahfooz ur Rahman
Islamabad
November 19, 2012


A good life – Is it the be all and end all of life ?

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3.               A good life – Is it the be all and end all of life ?
As a student of English Literature , I became familiar with the terms of round character and flat character . A flat character is an ordinary man on the street who goes on about his job , his family and his house . A round character is one around the plot of the novel revolves irrespective of the fact whether he  is good or bad . If good , he is mostly romantic and an optimist .  
I have been   a round character for most of my adult life . In school , I was very shy and timid to the extent that I hesitated to ask the teacher a question for fear that he or the class would laugh at me .  However two things changed my life . The first one was my  joining the Cadet College , Hasan Abdal and the second one was my joining the Masters in English Literature .  Both events brought out  my latent talent .I became an enfant terrible so much so that I asked the Director GATT ( now WTO) while visiting  a cathedral in Krakow (Poland) to show us the torture chambers which made the man livid   .
 I joined the College in 9th class . It  had an annual parents for the junior classes ( 8th to 10th) . I was enjoying introducing my parents to individual teachers . One of the teachers was Lt. Mahfooz Ali Solanki ( later he became a Captain in charge of the Education Branch of the Pakistan Navy . He and his lady wife would often visit us till they remained in Islamabad ) . He made a pertinent observation to my late parents  that I had no aptitude for Mathematics .  A similar observation , not in these words , was made by our Physics Professor ,the late Mr. Mahmood Khan .  Then Humanities was no go area .  However  I did my BSc with Physics and Mathematics in the first division . But I did not understand the concepts of the two subjects .It was enough for me . I became a guide , an able or worthless is  for my children to judge . However , I stepped in only once when my son was

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choosing to go for a MBA while my daughter was choosing a career in Chartered Accountancy . I guided them to switch over .
One of my dearest friends , the late Naveed Zafar , advised my son and daughter not to go for jobs . He gave several examples for successful careers through investing in a shoe string . Well my son , Saad , resigned from his highly paid job , and is working towards establishing his own company while my daughter( MBA and MA (Economics ) became the principal of a school . My son’s job was a 8 AM to 8 PM six days a week both demanding and unrewarding .  My children are grown up , mature and able to distinguish between good and evil . However my son sought my advice . I told him that Allah is the Provider and Sustainer . Since he cancelled his chance for Canadian Immigration to be with his old parents , Allah will surely compensate him for that .
Why not work and take pleasure from it  ? I have tried to instill that motto into my juniors . I gave standing orders to my  junior officers and  staff to finish the work within office timing and avoid late sitting .  I have too followed a principle “NO HARM IN TRYING ”. Most often I succeeded  with maintaining my dignity . So let the young ones try their fortunes .   The author ( Oscar Wilde )  of “ The Picture of Dorian Gray “ was a human being .
While on a four month  course in Geneva , I found a pastime in entering different churches and cathedrals in the city on Saturdays and Sundays  . Those were magnificent outwardly . But they were also  empty . There was no God . However , I found Him in the sacred cities of Mecca and Medina in all His glory  and in the hearts of His creatures .
 Plant a tree . Educate kids especially the poor  . Feed the poor . Take good care of the widows and orphans are some work to do while earning .
 Mahfooz ur Rahman
Islamabad
February 7, 2015