Bilafond's Randomness

27/09/202304/10/2023

73 OR 74 YEARS

THIS POST WAS SHARED ON MY BIRTHDAY WHICH I AM SHARING AS A BLOG POST

16 March – 23 Shahban 1444 AH

A special SUBH BAKHAIR (Good Morning) message to you all

The wake-up alarm on my iPhone rang at 0500 hrs. ‘Aazaan’ was in the air, and there was thunder clapping, I was in the middle of a dream and tried to remember as I lay awake straight looking at the ceiling after pulling a small chain with my bedside lamp and switching it on, The thunder clapping made me think if it was ALLAH’s way of greeting me on my Birthday, which happens to be today. I slept early before midnight had turned off the date on the calendar. I am a very ‘ fast Sleeper, Alhamdulilah. Max 2 minutes and am gone. I thanked the Almighty as I prayed and cried, that I had gotten up on this day, like so many days before today. The bounties of his blessings made me feel so small, a mere speck in the existence of this vast universe, something which has remained my fascination, for as long as I remember. I, an EARTHLING how insignificant I am in the creator’s scheme of things. Never ever before have I penned my feelings on such a day when I was still to come into this world at 2330 hours on this very day, not very far away in the town of Kahuta, where I now again after prayers lay on my bed and am lost in my thoughts.

I am thinking of how big is this UNIVERSE, the power of the creator and planner has made me feel like an astronaut on a free flight. I am so lost in questions and uncertainties which keep creeping and cropping in my mind, as why do we worry? I mean with IFs and BUTs, this and that and so on, when the planner of everything has chartered our life and laid down DOs and DONTs right and wrong, the good and evil for us to live for and from. In my usual flight of imagination once again into the endless space, I am thinking of EARENDAL nicknamed the ‘Morning Star’ which is 28 Billion light years away from Earth. I believe its images were released this month after its discovery on Mar 22. I am sure no one knows about it as we were engrossed in the politics of our land of pure. We are seeing the star now which was 12.8 billion years ago. I wish I had astronomy as a subject, it would have been my favourite subject, not maths and Algebra which I hated and barely passed. NOW WHAT IS MY NEW YEAR GOAL(s) one, keep wishing you all good mornings and TWO more important is to THINK MORE, TALK LESS and WRITE MORE let my RAMBLINGS CONTINUE, knows I may as part of my inheritance leave behind an EARENDAL for some to discover or find.

18/11/2022

A PAGE FROM MY LIBRARY OF THOUGHTS

INTO THE LIBRARY OF MY THOUGHTS
1259 hours Nov 18

The stars in the constellation
One each for each one of us
They will ever remain in motion in a never-ending journey
Through the cosmic dust, they will float
Through the colours of the cosmos through the void of the universe
They will still remain for each one of us
So said the great Khan
To rule the destiny of the world
The stars said so The stars knew
The stars are always there
In the kingdom of night
we think the stars will rule
for we never see them without darkness
I often wonder when stars break
The broken stars still find new galaxies
They would still shine in the colours of stardust
But see towards the heaven in a dark night shine they will
Our stars and our destiny have their course chartered
I love the dark nights
They give meaning to my life always
My fascination with the limitless vastness
The journey of my mind has been where I went alone
They are my companions of time My vehicles into nothingness
where infinity has no meaning
where is the charm if there is a destination
I like to be a perpetual traveller
I want to be beyond Time
I like to be in the company of stars
I like to be many yet emit my own light
I like to be in a galaxy of stars
I want to be in a hall of fame OF STARS

18/09/2022

Few of My Random Thoughts on Fate

FATE

وہ کہتا ہے انسان اپنی قسمت خود لکھتا ہے

He says man writes his own destiny

A few moments ago I wrote the English translation of this verse as reflected above

If that is true, then who writes the pain of fate?

And then I spun round and round on the word FATE. This is not the moment to describe my divine nature of thoughts on FATE right now. I was reminded of one of the poems which my Son wrote to me, it was on Fate. I was very annoyed on the subject as he related it to an incident at that time. It took me many readings to understand each line even after he passed away. It reflected each time differently.

I pulled out two loose sheets from my drawer, picked a pencil and wrote these lines on Fate. I haven’t refined or edited it. I thought let me commit myself to these lines first. It is for me a kind of art. The paints have been mixed. So here we go

Fate is a poem I read a thousand times

The words of Fate I did not understand
Where it began what it aspired?

It caused me pain to read it again and again

Nature was so complex I felt the anguish from the heart to the brain

Why? I said did you write

Why the Fate trouble you? Why Fate only?

Why could I not see the signs? Was Fate unknown to Fate itself

Fate was concealed. Fate and Future was a waiting game

It found me in a cycle of destiny

Fate revealed a different me, I lacked a complete understanding of the Fate of the past, a Fate of future

It was all Fate and I could not share the understanding of Fate

Sweetness and pain are stamped together. Scars it leaves but the future awaits our fate.

I now understand the path we choose is not always Fate. But relied on the understanding when it favoured

But know this, Faith Future and Fate are all to lead us
Write I shall more, Fate will always open new Doors.

TAHIR

Once you make a decision, the universe conspires to make it happen
EMERSON

10/10/202001/11/2020

Barrenness, of Words

She had always wanted words, she loved them; grew up on them. Words gave her clarity, brought reason, shape.
Michael Ondaatje, The English Patient

But show me your beautiful hair i will take you to the fields of words. Show me your beautiful eyes i will show you the Kaleidoscope of words

Let me hold your hand, let me feel the smoothness of your skin. Let me take you into pleasure of words.

Let me kiss you palms to show how you’d feel like you never before. You’ll never be barren of words for that hand to write. Let me kiss your sweet lips, let me unlock and liberate your words.

Let me tell you the secret. You should be in love to allow your words to bloom,
Let me be the rekindling light before mine goes away into Lehte

Will you wait for Hades to dry Surely then you would have already missed the boat.
Words may come and go who will know – you won’t but I will .

So lets play Scherzo No.1 of Chopin and forget the complexities

Let’s bow and arise, let’s begin with two chords, let’s be dramatic, let’s fly like a butterfly. Let’s go to Bilafond La; The Pass of Butterflies.

27/07/2023

ON DEATH OF SINEAD O’CONNOR

PHOTO CREDIT: TERRY O’NEILL

NOTHING COMPARES TO YOU is a 1990 top hit song by Sinead O’Connor, an Irish singer. Favourite singer of my late son Nasir, a song which he often used to listen to. I now see after many years how he liked things which I can connect to his choices of people and things. Destiny apart I as a father and many parents, especially Fathers abysmally fail to notice changes in our children. We are lost in our world mostly trying to look up to things we do not have, rather completely oblivious and inattentive to what we have right in front of our eyes. We fail to notice ‘the pain, loneliness and wide range of emotions surrounding them. Sometimes we try to amend and rectify our own mistakes.

Sinead O’Connor passed away yesterday at the age of 56. She reverted to Islam and chose ‘Shuhada Sadaqat’ as her Muslim name in 2018. Lost her 17-year son 18 months ago.
The lyrics have been interpreted by scores of people but for her, it was the loss of her mother at that time. The loss of a child even takes a heavier toll. This is an unexplainable feeling which can NEVER be understood other than by those who have experienced it. I have many friends who have lost their children. They in their brave silence bear the loss. I can write a chapter on such a loss of each. I remember their faces, their eyes. Some cry and shed tears in their solitude and silence and some are overcome by their memory which for me is a natural and good thing to do.
May ALLAH SWT bless her Soul. Ameen

I dedicated this Song to my late son MOODY

14/06/2022

Whispers of the Heart

Through the green misty morning
I cannot see afar
Through the ageless turning of seasons
Through the tide of high and low
Through the timelessness of time
We try to gaze into whispers of our heart
For soundless it has been for eternity
We have interwoven ourselves with those sounds
Through the mist, we trudge along
we listen to the whispers of our heart
When we hold to ourselves to the sounds of guidance
It is louder when it is noiseless
Through the timelessness of time
I hold my hands
intertwine my fingers
As a sign of hope as an extension of the sound of a silent whisper
Who has walked with hands clasped
only through the loneliness of the nothingness of hope
through the imaginary sound of silence and whispers of the heart
we leave our hands and walk again
As the tide will come and go

12/06/2022

The Older I Get, The More I Think

“As we walk through the secretive doors of our remembrance, looking for forgotten benchmarks of our history, we can find unexpected escape hatches opening into valuable answers to great expectations.”

I’m thinking about my father today. I’m in process of writing my book, though slowly and it is becoming challenging by the day as memories continue to crop up. From ‘HOW’ and ‘WHAT’, I transit into domains of ‘WHY’. What determines the VALUE of my life and that of my father ends in so much blurriness. I cannot make up for the sake of it. The hindsight is cluttered deserting me with many unanswered questions; I try to find one and there pop a few more.
Apart from many things we do in life we cherish objects we value, though we do not declare them as such. We quietly cling to them. Some we tell people, others we show and display, and some we think will be one-day possession of your family your kids and their kids. Does this thought have any value?
My father never told me or my other siblings that all he possessed was of great value to him. Such a subject never took place. He did not single out any, as far as I remember. Things do not maintain their value, time only determines that. But eventually, that even becomes valueless as we age into the true and stark domain value of life. The countdown to nothingness is different for different people. Since I try to write candidly more than other people do, about my personal life for those who are in my band of readership, I find its gradual declining number, more “silent spectators” who are not judgemental, that is perfect for me. My disclosures in the fullness of time will be part of my book. I have already written about it in the draft preface of the book where I have acknowledged how difficult in the course of my book it would be to confront my challenge to be forthright and truthful. Thus with that in the back of my mind revealing my inner feelings will be like taking a walk in a labyrinth, which would give the perception to those people who didn’t expect me to be what I am revealing to them, or how could they fail to judge or ‘decipher’ me. I on the other hand started with this approach in the book as well, that is, not caring at all how people may judge me. They will though still feel that they are unable and never know what lies deep inside my heart, yes, each of them will use their own decoders.

I was telling you about my father. My life span of understanding him I think at best was only about 31/32 years. He never ever told me (us) what material objects he owned were priceless or of value to him. His lifestyle and circumstances never had the luxury of identifying objects valuable to him; things perhaps we could get as a share of our rights. I can’t say about my other siblings but my father was a man of taste. He had 22 pieces of some of the finest Persian Carpets and his other prized possession were his collection of good books. He never read fiction as far as I remember. The carpets he loved so much, he later sold them one by one in the days of his utter misery and hardship. He tried his best to keep a semblance of dignity. This notion whether right or wrong is the story of the life of many around us. You will know if you are a reader of books about such stories. The books he valued eventually nothing was left of them. I am sure he gave them away gradually. To me, this is and will always be the most painful part. I possess from his collection some 8 to 10 books. He always signed them and was fond of underlining them.

With these two points I have made, I have many options to give. If your belongings are not valued by anyone do not waste your breath, give them away and if you can’t just sell them to some collector, which in my country though are very few in number. My daughter will though never allow this to happen
RIGHT NOW all I want is to paint, paint and paint till my eyesight and stable hands give me company. Time is precious, waste it wisely, I say to myself
This morning I woke up very early and waited to watch the sunrise to see the slow-moving image of sunlight peeping into my bedroom room through the curtains. It was too early and I could not sleep again. I got restless. And then like always I realise that not having the time to do something might be the very reason why I need to write this queer piece.

11/06/2022

Nasir’s Free Verse on WISDOM

Do words need to be said if you are the only one thinking?

NAIR MAHMOOD

A SELECTION

Once again I am troubled after reflecting over two pages of wisdom
At first, felt to have wisely said wisdom with the best of words
But came my second thoughts to think of better reasons to prose over it
I found few acceptances among sentences but remorse over not having accepted all of them

In the life of man to gain knowledge is the best labour but to know having learnt is knowledge gained

Wisdom is to emerge over learnt possibilities and head forward by becoming learned and discern all acquired answers like does the unlearned

The wise must need passion to put effort into plentiful wisdom because passion is putting life to the test for wisdom.

Wisdom is dialectic with no numbered multiples but has discoursed men from the time since Socrates

If you think wisdom needs no explanation then wait just a few more seconds

If you ever find yourself amid moments to figure out the wisest way then know if when there is no option there subsists this way to figure wisely another one
Then wisdom is the existence of what is concealed right before you and steals your attention when you did not care much to take care of it

And what to expect from expectation when wisdom is a sufficiency in being content within yourself

So if you think that wisdom is the thing stated simple then you have reduced its precision because it is just when you thought the difference between fact unstated that wisdom was drawn upon a bigger statement because difference among things are finding wise facts but also deliberating their varied effects

Wisdom is my favourite word and to spend life seeking reverence for it is of loss none but being lost to life’s most sublime
It is mostly overgrowing troubled tooth for all human beings ever since, but, surfaced only in the best philosophical mind

Many times wisdom does not choose the bright side of events. And once in a while, I feel infatuated to know every aspect

Guilt perishes man as termite wood and when it is completely crumbed there begins the digestion
I know there is something infant in me but if it was not for arrogance I would be calm as the ocean with no one to witness my views

08/06/202208/06/2022

Turning Point

YOU DON’T NEED ANYONE ELSE’s APPROVAL TO CHANGE YOUR LIFE

GERMANY KENT

After I graduated from the military academy, I was posted in 1971 to a newly raised unit in Azad Kashmir at a place called BAGSAR. It was then as I recollect a beautiful picturesque green valley, surrounded by not so high hills around a small lake in the middle, like a mouth of a volcano perched high up. The height of the hills around was deceiving as it was located on top of a mountain and was about 8/9 km from the base called Sandoa Cross.
My commanding officer (CO) was a sombre and reserved personality. He would seldom laugh or mingle with officers, except in official matters. I now feel he suffered from complexes.
Right from my young days and also as a young officer, I was of a habit of quietly observing things and happenings around me. I could not remain unaffected by them one way or the other. As time passed many of those experiences and observations, opened ways for me in resolving situations. Some of them became my bedrock principles in approaching and resolving situations.
In my entire professional life, I have never felt hesitant or shy from learning from my very junior subordinates. I remember Abdul Majid, the Subedar Major Head Clerk organised my filing system when I was just a 2nd/lieutenant. I have maintained them till the day I retired and some even after retirement.
A few days ago, I revisited and reviewed all my files. I picked up one such file titled, “Extracts from Confidential and Course Reports”. While turning the pages, I started reading one confidential report written almost 32 years ago, when I was a Lieutenant Colonel and commanding my battalion at Malakand Fort. I have decided to “Declassify” the report of 1991, and write my thoughts on it. There is no benefit of hindsight in this particular matter, even now that I have retired as a Major General, I would do the same. It is in my nature, as it was then and it will be now as well. I will desist in naming the officers who wrote my reports that year. Both of them rose to the rank of 3 Star and retired. I would not go into the narration of the events which ensued resulting in the writing of those two reports. I will only give my analytical explanation which would orbit around the two gentlemen and their pen picture of how they viewed me as a commanding officer of a battalion in that situation of command and leadership. I can only add that all my subsequent actions and my negatives became positives at the time of my promotion. I remember 100% of my friends and colleagues compelled me to represent against the negative remarks as they would come in my way at the time of my consideration for promotion. My stand was always; what I did was for my unit and my men and I would never compromise my position by representing against my report. I never did.
I was a Brigade Major (BM) of the Nowshera Brigade in the early 80s where I served for three years. We had a battalion located at Malakand Fort. My trips to the fort were frequent and I always told people that there could be no better place to command a battalion than at Malakand.
My prayers were answered and I was posted to command in Oct 1989. The complex of small forts namely, Main Fort, Maxim, Castle Rock, Kotal Reduit, Peacock, and Gibraltar Post, all these forts were spread over 1200 kanals of military land. One of my tasks was to ensure that the said land was not encroached on by the civilians. This was a very difficult task, but my instructions were clear and simple, no illegal occupation was acceptable. All civilian officials were informed about it. This responsibility was to eventually become the bone of contention and friction. People, perhaps we’re used to past practices.
Several small incidents started occurring where the levies and civilians had manhandled and were rude to my men who were performing their duties. I tried my level best to avoid any kind of confrontation. As it happens most of the time this attitude is taken as a sign of weakness. Eventually, it resulted in a serious violent confrontation with the Levies of Malakand. When I tried to involve the PA in a resolution he conveniently disappeared not to be found or heard. I will stop here and not go into what happened on the ground.
I will now mention some serious remarks in my 1991 confidential report by the 2nd Senior Reporting Officer. I will skip the remarks of the brigade commander which were very positive and their mention here is unimportant. I will restrict my thoughts on the negative remarks. One thing I did was not to represent against the report, knowing fully well that with those remarks I had no chance whatsoever, of going beyond my present rank of Lieutenant Colonel. I stood my ground quietly. Many people argued against my stance. I knew the moment I chose to represent, I would be standing against everything I stood for, that is, my Battalion. The promotion was not important for me.
Without further ado, let us have a look at the negative remarks without breaking the sentences. (not the first time in my career I was under the pen).
—— “ Has had the opportunity of good professional grooming, but mentally has yet to get out of the grooves of a company commander——— very keen to do well. Remained under pressure to establish himself in a unit he had not served before ——- tends to react impulsively which caused avoidable civil-military problems in Malakand Agency——- As ex BM of the same brigade, was expected to comprehend the environment better —- leads from the front but did not display the maturity to tackle intricate and delicate situations with tact. However, with experience will make a reliable CO. ——
I served in 4 different battalions and commanded 2 infantry brigades and 2 infantry divisions. Have been for 3 years as Deputy Force Commander and Chief Military Observer in a UN mission.
In command situations when it comes to making choices, it is understood one does not pick up bits and pieces of a situational puzzle to determine what options are at the table. I think there is always one overarching necessity and sanctity of the responsibility which has to be maintained and ensured. In this paradigm of institutional responsibility, there is very little room for compromises and flexibility. Making one or the other choice at the spur of the moment, I have always kept in my cross hair the fundamental and ultimate necessity I had chosen for myself. I didn’t care for anything except the pride of my men and the battalion. Old or new unit for me is not important, I have served in all kinds. It is the men who will lay their life for you, that is paramount.
In life, we encounter people who think intuition is their domain and their thoughts and words should have been interpreted as they wanted them to be. Command and Leadership in my view come in thousands of shapes and sizes, their effects limitless. We do not command by selecting idioms. Each one of us has a tapered view of things and reconstructs its effects in fluid crises. Presence on the spot is everything, no matter the level of position held. View of the events has to be from the pulpit in the field, far away from swirling office chairs. I have been vehemently against swimming with the current approach, I also call it a shade of tact, a word so often used to confuse claim of superiority of influence. The attitude of self-protection is a killer.
To conclude I served for 17 years after that incident. I have seen many ups and downs in my life. After 14 years of my retirement, I take this opportunity to THANK all those who believed in my traits and not that incident alone. They preferred and decided to give me a chance without that representation for which I was goaded and stood by my decision.
The JOURNEY continues as I CONCLUDE this episode of my life. CASE DECLASSIFIED

01/06/202208/06/2022

Gul Bahadur aka GULLIA

Youth Cannot know how age thinks and feels. But old men are guilty if they forget what it was to be young.

J.K.ROWLING

SINCE yesterday I am trying to weave my thoughts and old times to write a short story. Every day when the Sun comes up I tell myself I must write something. I’m today going to write a story of the mid-60s when I was in my teens. We were a good bunch of friends, boys and girls, rich and poor, oblivious of the world around us. So I remembered a person who called me every Eid and wished and greets me for many years now. He lived in a room and a half set of servant quarter of a hut where we lived not far from Seven Streams Area a famous landmark of Quetta. I called him yesterday after a very long time and told him I want to record my memories of him. I didn’t know how he looks now because I only remember him as a boy in his early twenties. He sent me his photo which I asked for. He is GUL BAHADUR, we called him, “GULLIA”

Gullia is my age, born in 1950, and belongs to a small town TOPI in KPK Province, near Tarbela Dam from the Qubab Shai Awan Tribe. The family migrated to Quetta City where he lives since childhood. It was around 1963/64 when we lived as neighbours. His father was a labourer in the School of Infantry and Tactics and passed away in 1996. He is the third of 7 siblings, 5 brothers and 2 sisters. He did his matriculation from Special High School, Quetta. My father was the secretary of the Infantry School Officers Mess. Quetta in those days had close-knit families of Squash and Tennis coaches all hailed from KPK Province (Then commonly known as the Frontier Province). Qamar Zaman who later also won the World Champion title in Squash, his father Ayub coached officers in Infantry School. Gullia also learned and played squash there. Mumtaz Khan was the Quetta Club Tennis and Squash Coach wherein 1970 my father was the Secretary of Quetta Club. Gullia was employed as Ballboy and we used to ofter play tennis and squash together, along with Mumtaz Khan’s children Shahjehan, Hidayat Jehan aka Hiddi Jehan who also later won World title, Wazir Khan and then a toddler Zarak Jehan, all of them Squash players of repute and good Tennis players. It is then that Gullia learned to play all racquet games and occasionally played with officers attending the course at Infantry School. Some still fondly remember him.

I remember all the kids of the Seven Streams community would assemble every evening in front of our hut number 192/4 ( Gullia still remembered the House number and reminded me). Our games were “Barree”, cricket and times Indians and cowboys with modified hand made make-believe pistols and bows. It was hectic and competitive, and Gullia remembers my mother would often cook dal and rice and other things for the kids from the quarters. They all loved her, but my father remained a terror for all and thus he remembers him.

Gullia was always smiling, thick voice and wide jawed his eyes would pop out when he burst into laughter. Around the 1970 period, Gul opened a Cycle hire and repair shop. The majority of Infantry School Lieutenants and young officers owned or hired bicycles, and hence Gul Cycle Shop was a place of activity. His militia work shirt was torn from shoulder and sleeve, all oily his face smudged with oil and grease. He never cared or noticed these things and went about his work smilingly and that used to always grab my attention, carefree appearance yet perfect in his work he was. His cycle shop did not last long when the age of bikes and scooters became common. In 1990 he changed the name of his shop and so he did the business. The cycle shop became Gul Sports Shop. It lasted from 1990 to 1996. It has been since 1996 that he went into a new business. For the last 26/27 years, he owns a Public Call Office and a Mobile Shop in Chiltan Market in the cantonment. I spoke to him he seems contented.

Gullia got married in 1973. He has 4 sons and 2 daughters. The eldest son remained Pakistan number 1in Squash for 4/5 years. With no prospect as a coach in Pakistan, he migrated to the USA where he coaches Squash in Boston. His number 2 son is in the UK and has a job in Home Delivery Service. The other two sons help their father. His two daughters are married and living happily. Gullia is suffering from Parkinson’s disease. In 1995 while playing Squash he fell on the court and suffered a slipped disc of L4 and L5. He is somehow managing his life but is in high spirits.