MORE ON EASY MONEY

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39.                    MORE  ON EASY MONEY
"He who is without sin among you, let him be the first to throw a stone at her." Jesus.
In Islam , who bribes for his work to be done commits a greater sin than who takes the bribe .
 Corruption is a topic much discussed in the world . However , in Pakistan,we have sufficient time to waste rather doing work that is constructive which yield fruits for humanity . This does not mean that I am absolving ‘Corruption’ and ‘wickedness’ .
 Pakistan is considered a large pond of filth where each person goes about naked . . The older generations sowed ‘corruption’ like other evils . We are reaping the fruit sown  by them . We cant pick up apples from barley fields .
 The situation in each is going from bad to worse while a sham democracy had been installed. In Karachi , there is a daily dose of killing when the democratic,  and not a bureaucratic , government  ‘governs’ Sind . Rumours are in abundance of the alleged misdoings of the current Government not only in Sind but the entire Pakistan. The situation in the rest of the country is no better .
I am not saying that the country’s bureaucracy is without any blemish . However , some people cross all limits of decency  in their observation in the media or on the social networks . My objection is their making  sweeping statements using harsh words as ‘rats’ , ‘dogs, and ‘pigs’for bureaucrats. Never use big words . Big words mean little .
Please avoid abusing the  honest ,hard work of numerous Government servants . They put their heart and soul into their
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work . They worked selflessly . My late father was one such example . 
 I wish to the readers that in this putrid atmosphere , there are many examples which  shine on the country’s firmament and make the country proud . My JS in the Ministry of Commerce , Dr. A.K. Tanveer , was one such example . He , the late Mr. Rafiq Inayat Mirza (who lived in Rawalpindi and worked in Islamabad) , the late Mr. Maqbool Ahmed Butt  never used staff cars when they were entitled to do so. They used to come by public wagons while plied between Rawalpindi and Islamabad . Mr. Javed Burki and Mr. Khalid Mahmood Cheema used bicycles while coming to the office.  
I saw the working of  those scions of high officials of the past , Javed Burki , Javed Talat , Meekal Aziz Ahmed . It was a pleasure to deal with them . 
From among the bureaucracy , there were Justice A.R. Cornelius , Justice M.R.Kayani . Judges speak from their judgments . Simultaneously  , we heard that lawyers and judges play bridge together and the former lose to the latter on purpose.
A military bureaucrat , Air Marshall Asghar Khan, moved the Supreme Court in the case of distribution of the funds amounting Rs 140 million to the politicians . The bureaucracy was not the beneficiary but the politicians were .
 The bureaucracy was not the gainer of the  much abused NRO . If  there were any bureaucrat in the list of NRO beneficiaries, there were insignificant names .
A bureaucrat , Roedad Khan , atoned himself for his alleged ‘misdoings’ particularly when he the Principal  Secretary to President Ghulam Ishaq Khan , was instrumental in filing a writ against the NRO which he subsequently won .
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No bureaucrat is guilty of tax evasion . Their taxes are deducted at source .
 A young female bureaucrat named Ms Anita Turab , moved the Supreme Court and won its judgment against the mighty ruling People Party in the case of Waheeda Shah who slapped election officials.
Mahfooz ur Rahman
Islamabad
November 12 , 2012

Masud saheb

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   38 .                                   Masud saheb

Through a strange coincidence , I was coordinating the exercise of the redesigning of civil awards in the Cabinet Division as the Deputy Secretary concerned . It would be interesting to learn how the application form  for civil awards was reduced from the original  four pages to a quarter of a page . I was asked by the Additional Secretary to have a look at the form .  I saw plenty of things irrelevant in so far as the Federal Government  was concerned  for eg. religion ( it does not occupy any place for awards ) or  clearance of the DCs . And lo and behold my amendments were approved by the Cabinet Secretary .

The Cabinet Secretary conveyed to the Additional Secretary and myself the dislike of President Zia to  the designs of civil awards  .  We asked the relevant agencies like the National College of the Arts , Lahore , Pakistan National Council of the Arts etc to furnish their designs by a given date . They did that . I discussed the designs with the Additional Secretary and dismissed them because they had no vision .

The Cabinet Secretary asked me to find out how the previous designs were made . Through my research , we found that those designs were prepared by an English firm M/s Spinks and Sons . The Cabinet Secretary wrote to the firm .  I coordinated his two visits .   Mr . Spinks came to Rawalpindi twice and had a series of meetings with the late President , the Cabinet Secretary , the Master of the Pakistan Mint  Syed Mahmood Shaukat  etc. The first was to make him understand the task in hand . The second was hand over the designs that his firm had made .

I ordered  M/s Ghazanfar Ali and Sons , Rawalpindi to prepare a special leather  bag for carrying the designs , for the presentation to the President . In the initial meeting held opposite the Murree Brewery and attended by the President , the Cabinet Secretary , the Mint Master  yours truly made the presentation   .   

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Later on the bag was meant to carry the medals from the Cabinet Division to the Aiwan e Sadr and back .

Regards

Mahfooz  

MARYAM MAHFOOZ: A FATHER FONDLY REMEMBERS

MARYAM MAHFOOZ: A FATHER FONDLY REMEMBERS

For the last months since her second death anniversary on the October 16 ,2000, I have been wondering whether to write to you because it seems odd for a man who is 56 and who is in the twilight of his life to write to a teenage magazine and that, too, after a lapse of two years. But the words of the Editor of this Magazine, when she learnt about her death, were, indeed, very moving and come to my mind again and again. Indeed, they were the finest tributes and which acted as a balm for me and my family, Maryam’s mother and father and for her brothers and sisters. Now after two days Eid is due and her memories are coming flooding back
She was our favourite, not only for me but also for the entire family. Everyone who knew her, uncles, aunts, neighbours and friends of the family loved her. Her uncle Naeem had made a point to donate blood to her every now and then because she was suffering from Thalassemmia Major, a fatal disease of the blood. But later on, more complications developed which led to her death. Not only did he donate blood but he left special instructions with his wife, a very noble soul herself, and his sons to donate their (sons) blood, whenever needed. Shortly before her death, Naeem’s older brother, a PIA pilot, had arrived then from New York and was visiting his under construction house and when he learnt that Maryam had been hospitalized in the Children’s Hospital in Islamabad in a very serious condition, he, at once, rushed to donate blood to her. He sat with Maryam for two hours till I finished office, amusing her by telling hilarious anecdotes and stories. Indeed, this cousin of mine is a great friend of the children. But for Maryam, he had a special liking and this liking was mutual. Once her doctor, Naila Yaqub, advised me to acquire a sportsmen helmet for her to be worn at all times as a precaution against hurting herself on the head because after her brain surgery, she developed epilepsy and her fits were so bad that she often fell down and hurt herself. Because of these fits, she stopped going to school two years before her death. I mentioned to Captain Zabih, her uncle. On the third day, Zabih brought a helmet for her. Such was great love, which the uncle and niece shared.
She was a patient child. Whenever we or anyone else enquired about her condition from her, her only reply was that she was fine and invariably thanked the enquirer even though she was in pain. Mrs. Nighat Nasar, the wife of the M.D. Caltex, great family friends, often came to see her whenever she was hospitalized and invariably asked Maryam what she wanted. But the only answer Mrs. Nasar got “No, Aunty, thank you. I don’t need anything”
She was a very loving child. She used to remember the birthdays of her parents and her friends. Even towards the end of her life when her going had become restricted, she would ask her family to bring birthday cards, get well cards as the case may be. A couple of months before her death, she asked me one evening to accompany me to the market. But, all the while, she kept the reason of her going out to herself. We went to a ready-made garments shop and bought a shirt for me despite my great dissuasion.
She had a premonition of her death. She told her friend that the latter promised to come and see her but the friend would come only when she was gone. She also confided in her friend that her late grandfather i.e. my father, came to fetch her to a land of happiness where they would play. Her friend told us the day Maryam died.
Maryam was my father’s favourite although he loved my five children alike. But she occupied a very special place in his affection. Both of them had many common traits. Both of them were born within two days of each other, of course, in different years, or rather eras. And both are buried within yards of each other.
But we as Muslims have faith in the Almighty Allah and in His Graciousness, His Mercy and in His Benevolence.
Mahfooz-ur-Rahman
Father of the late Maryam Mahfooz
House no. 409-B, Satellite Town,
Rawalpindi.
Mahfoozur_rahman@hotmail.com
.
P.S.
The finest tribute to Maryam was paid by dear friend ,Maria Ramzan Akhtar , when she named her new born daughter Maryam .
Dear Editor,
Enclosed please find a copy of an article entitled ‘This is what I go through’ by Maryam Mahfooz which was published in your magazine a couple of years back.
I am writing this letter to inform you, and through you your readers of your magazine, that my daughter, Maryam Mahfooz, died on 16th October, 1998 at 12.30 a.m. from various complications like brain hemorrhage, pneumonia and meningitis.
For the last seven years she had been calmly battling against her illnesses. She had been in and out of the hospital.
When her article appeared in your magazine many of your readers wrote to her and she found a great many friends, particularly Miss Maria Ramzan Akhter, who became her very fast friend. It was Maria who made my daughter very happy and who came to Maryam’s last rites. May Allah Bless Maria.
I also take this opportunity to thank her various doctors particularly Dr. Naila Yaqoob, Dr. Ghazala Sultan, Dr. Jai Krishan who went out of the way to attend to her. May God Bless all of them.
With regards,
Yours truly,
Mahfooz urRahman
Dear Mr. Mehfooz,
If there were words to express the sorrow that I felt upon reading your missive I would write it down but the fact is that it’s so deep and so troubling, for me at least, that I am unable to register the fact truly. Maryam was one of our very arduous readers and wrote very well. To lose so much to God seems so upsetting and yet, we cannot deny God of taking one of his very beloved and keeping her safe with Him. I am sure that I will be voicing our readers’ thoughts when I say that I wish you courage and fortitude to go on in life even with the loss of your daughter and in time, bless you with hope and happiness for surely this sweet, loving and pristine Maryam, like her namesake, is chosen to be cherished forever. – Editor.
M

MARRIAGE OR TORTURE

                                 MARRIAGE OR TORTURE

The Holy Prophet (Peace and Blessings of Allah be upon him ) said the Muslims should solemnized Nikah so that his followers would be greater in number and give him a chance to feel proud . In Islam , the Nikah ceremony was always very simple . But no longer . It has been converted into a torture however noble the intentions are ,

We attended a marriage last night . The invitation card said that the Nikah would be at 8 PM ( it was at 11.15 pm) and the dinner would be served at 8.30 PM . The bride’s family arrived at the wedding hall after 10 PM and the baraat arrived at 11 PM . My family and I were allowed to leave the torture chambers at 12.45 AM. We reached home at 1.15 AM . This morning , I got up at 5.45 AM .  Naturally we offered qaza Fajr  prayers .

 Talking about ‘torture chambers ‘ reminded me of an incident that took place in Krakow (Poland) . On  field trips , the programme  included visits to churches and museums only : I found the former very boring and devoid of education . While visiting the grand cathedral in Krakow , I ‘innocently ‘asked the Course Director ‘ where are the torture chambers ‘ . His faced reddened  and I could see that he was trying hard  to control his anger .

Many useless and odious things have crept into system and are becoming  compulsory  rapidly. There were times when invitations were written in  a fine handwriting on Postal cards worth one anna ( the previous currency till it was replaced by Decimal Coinage in 1961). Once  in the 1990s ,we got an invitation card from  an overseas friend containing twelve pages . Marriages were simple affairs and not torturous affairs practiced nowadays . Marriages were also long lasting : divorce was considered a taboo .

Once a friend of mine invited my family and I to his son’s marriage in Lahore . We drove to Lahore  one day before the occasion. On reaching Lahore , I saw the invitation card again and carefully . The programme said that ‘ guests were assemble’ at 8 PM , ‘Baraat departs for the bride’s home/ hotel’ 9 PM blah , blah . I made a quick calculations : that we would not be able to reach home (  we were staying with my sister in law )  before 2 AM. The next morning , we planned to leave for Islamabad . We discussed within ourselves and made a decision to skip the marriage or torture .

Mahfooz ur Rahman

Islamabad

April 07 , 2013     

Mama I want to go to school . Papa I want to go to school .

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35.       Mama I want to go to school . Papa I want to go to school .

Nadeem entered his son’s , Yusuf , bedroom at his shriek . The son had a nightmare . At almost the same time , Yusuf’s mother , Nasim, came . Both mother and father wanted Yusuf to tell them about the shriek . But he was too shocked to speak .  Yusuf went on crying . Between sobs ,the only word , his parents could catch was school . At last, the parents succeeded to calm their son down with parental love .  He told them that he had a bad dream in which his school was blown up by the terrorists  and all children were blown to bits  .

One day earlier when the children came home from school , they switched on the TV to watch their favourite cartoon programme  . But the channel they switched on had other things to show : graphic scenes of the aftermath of a blast that killed many people . Nadeem and Nasim tried to ensure that the children did not see the horrible scenes because as an educated couple they could visualize the traumatized impact on the children who were at an impressionable age .      

The family lived In Jehlum . They had two children , a boy aged 12 and his younger sister, Maryam , aged 10 . Both children went to the finest school in town . Besides education , their parents , particularly the mother , told stories of Muslim warriors like Hazrat Khalid bin Waleed or Salahuddin Ayubbi .  The father was a middle ranking officer . The family was very closely knit.  

Yusuf often dreamt  of  becoming a Physicist . He would often  tell them that he would do his masters and the earn a doctorate in Physics because both mother and father were highly qualified in their respective fields  . Once Maryam chimed that the brother and sister would become another Dr . Abdus Salam and another Malala Yousuzai . His father went into deep thinking : the former was declared a Non Muslim  by the Pakistani Parliament in the days of Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto when he was facing trouble and Malala had become the west’s darling . Christina Lamb  

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ghostwritten her autobiography  . She had put things  injurious to her native country .

All of sudden Yusuf thoughts returned to his school . He said “ Mama I want to go to school . Papa I want to go to school .” This simple sentence put his father to think   .  Being parents  they were naturally  upset by the series of murderous attacks  . As a father he  thought  about the future of the children . Were schools secure ?  The Government should have  removed their misgivings .

He thought that there was a time for thinking .There was a time for action . And the time for action was then  .

Yusuf was precocious and a bright boy . He was also an enfant terrible asking his parents questions which do not occur to any other boy of the same age bracket . It is said that wise questions constitutes  one half of the human knowledge . He asked them was there ever peace in Pakistan .   His question disturbed Nadeem’s thoughts .

Yusuf’s father began recounting the olden days . In the days of your grandfather and their days , Pakistan was a very peaceful country . Village life was ideal .His grandfather lived in Rawalpindi which was then a sleepy little town . His father used to tell him stories how they came on foot . They reached home at 3 PM whereas the classes were off at 1 PM travelling through the streets and ring bells of sundry houses all in fun  . The owners shared the boys fun . His father also told him that once he carried  his two year old cousin in his lap unannounced to the family and went for a four miles   without any reason . There was of danger either being killed or kidnapped .

His father did his masters in History while his mother did her masters in Psychology . Both his children grandparents and their parents academic life were full of usual pranks .

All of a sudden the idyllic atmosphere was turned into a nightmare as if a magic .

Mahfooz ur Rahman

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Islamabad

December 24, 2014   

           

LANGUAGE BLUES

                                                  LANGUAGE BLUES
Travelling , especially air travel , is fun. Besides fun , travelling is education . One meets people of different nations , their features differ , their language differ . The European aristrocracy used to send their sons to other European countries to learn as part of their education . Often they would attach their male offsprings to ambassadors to learn the delicate norms of diplomacy . When one travels from a country to the educated developed world , one sees a  different world . My first foreign visit was to the wealthiest country , Switzerland, in the world .From Rawalpindi in an under developed Pakistan to that wealthy  country left me  gaping .
When one visits another country , one of the immediate problems one faces is the language . Visitors in aliens lands are seen carrying small dictionaries to solve their problems . However , visitors to an alien lands make absurd mistakes because of their lack of knowledge of others’ languages and customs   .  I remember the occasion in 1964 when  one of my neighbours’ son and I , both in the same age group ,  went to visit an agriculture farm just outside Rawalpindi , barely a mile from my old house in Satellite Town . Over there , we witnessed a grotesque  conversation  between the attendant at the farm and two American ladies , wives of someone attached with the Planning Commission . Their car had an indication of belonging to the Ford Foundation . The local lad was trying his best to convey to the ladies in poor English . He  was repeatedly saying ‘I mean ‘ which sounded to the two ladies and to us ‘Almond’ . Each time , he said ‘ I mean’ , both of them cried in unison ‘ You mean almond tree ‘ . Not waiting for the end of the conversation ,   homes .
Twice I escaped being caught in a hot soup . The first occasion was when I was returning from a trip to Germany . I was holding an official passport but my visa was expiring at 12 AM that night . The PIA flight from London to Frankfurt was delayed by one hour . I was staying with relatives in Bad Godesberg . I taken the 7 PM flight from Cologne to Frankfurt reaching there at 7.30 PM . The PIA flight on which I was booked was due to arrive at 10.30 PM leaving me enough time to board the flight comfortably . However ,when the boarding was announced , the time was  12 AM . Thus I was without a valid visa . Two policemen challenged my status in Germany . They were conversing in an alien language . They were taking me to the Airport Police .  I starting calling Allah for helping me out from this distress  which was compounding by not knowing each others’ languages . And , lo and behold , Allah did help me . They allowed me to board the plane .
      At another time   my official passport was challenged on my arrival at Manila Airport because it had my photograph that was taken when I was in the earlier thirties .The Immigration Authorities repeatedly looked at my face and then towards the picture which was affixed on the passport . But then I was allowed to enter the city .Before that occasion , I travelled to the UK twice , Saudi Arabia four times and to Thailand  once on the same passport with which the same picture affixed .
Once one of my friends and I  were on the second floor and were about to step on the escalators  in Placette, a grand departmental store in Geneva , a middle aged woman rushed in to get to the escalators before us . At this , I said in Punjabi ‘ Mai ji tusi pehlay lung jao . Sadi khair ha ‘ ( Old lady , you go first .It is fine by me) . She retorted ‘Merci beaucoup .Merci beaucoup’(Thank you very much .Thank you very much ).
While attending a course in Geneva , two events happened worth remembering . In this Course , twenty countries were representing .At times like these the knowledge of English  varies . Hence , it sometimes leads to very absurd situations .It so happened that we were taking lunch at the cafeteria in the League of Nations building , a participant from the former  Czechoslovakia a fine young man with an  American style crew cut , was telling his audience that in his country graduates are called ‘doctors ‘. A young lady from Uruguay intervened and said that the same practice is observed in her country . The females are called ‘doctoras’. That phenomenon was very surprising to me and the others .  Out of curiousity   I asked both as to what the medical doctors and  PhDs were called in their countries . The man said nothing but she was adamant . I asked her if she did her PhD , if yes in which subject . It was her turn to be surprised because  apparently‘ she did not come across the term ‘PhD’ in her life . However , on the way back from a field trip of Zurich , Winterthur , Obewinterthur and Basel , she was telling a female participant from Namibia that she did her PhD in Law .I was sitting across the aisle hearing the conversation . I reminded her that two months previously she did not know what the term ‘PhD’ meant . But she said that she had always been a PhD in Law .
Again at lunch in the same place on a different occasion , I used the word ‘innocent’ . That hit a hornets’ nest . She and other South American participant , a fine lady , an Argentinian, began to speak in all sorts of languages . The only words I could catch were ‘bad words’ . I was stunned . But the two were not willing to tell me where I had erred . Lunch was a disaster . After lunch , I went to both of them individually . But my efforts were futile . I went to a Pakistani working in GATT ( snow renamed as WTO) and borrowed his copy of Concise Oxford Dictionary  , opened the page which the word ‘ innocent ‘ appeared and showed it to the lady belonging to Argentina . The riddle was solved when she explained that in Spanish the word   meant something naughty . I told her that in English the word ‘innocent’ is the most innocent word found in the English Dictionary .
However , I have just now checked in an English –Spanish , the word ‘innocent’ means the same in both languages . If so , the riddle appears to be grotesque and absurd. Perhaps , my American friend , Frank Dealy , who knows many languages, may help solve it.
Mahfooz ur Rahman
Islamabad
July 10, 2013                 

KHALIDA ZAFAR

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33.                KHALIDA ZAFAR

Khalida was a year senior to me in M.A. English class in Gordon College , Rawalpindi For a long time , I thought that Javed Zafar , the former Secretary of Environment , and she were brother and sister because of their common surname . She passed her Masters securing very good marks . In 1968 , she appeared in the CSS competion . During the three days of Psychological tests , we became closer .Until then , our relations were of mutual respect . One rarely finds a woman who has these three things ; brains , beauty and virtue . Often one or two things are missing . But Khalida had a combination of these three things . She was in my group for the Psychological tests and interview . There was a young man ,,Muzaffar Abbas, a Ravian , in this group . All the while , he was seen talking to her and other girl , whose name I have forgotten but the class girl of Khalida , at all times . He was trying to impress the two girls . Khalida was given the Postal Service . The second girl was also appointed in the Postal Service .But in an inferior position .
After one year’s training , we went our own ways . After four years , I learnt that Khalida had been posted as an Assistant Superintendent of Posts in Islamabad . To my good fortune , an American , George Rusinak , an employee of the US AID, came to see me in my office . Seeing my behaviour , he mentioned a problem which he had with the GPO, Islamabad . I , at once , telephoned Khalida . She told me that I should send George over to her and she would do the best she could . Later on , she was posted to Peshawar .

One week or , perhaps ten days , while coming by air to meet her family in Rawalpindi ,she tried to get up to alight from the plane she could not do so . She was brought by stretcher to the airport and back home by an ambulance .

The next morning , Khalida felt better . But she asked her mother to accompany to the RGH , Rawalpindi saying that she wanted to consult a doctor and undergo a medical check up . The doctor told her that she was

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suffering from was weakness prescribed some injections . After one shot was given , she collapsed and went into a coma . From that coma , she never recovered . After one week , she died . Ifelt very sorry for her and her family . I went to see her family and met her older brother . The doctor claimed that the compounder was wrong and vice versa . But one innocent life was lost through negligence . Later it turned be that the expiry date of the injection passed .

Despite the fact that three decades have passed after this unhappy event , Even now whenever I remember that  virtuous young lady and I say  a silent prayer  in her honour . She was very pure.

May Allah Bless Khalida .

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