Monthly Archives: August 2011

‘The Sugar and Spice of Life’

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*** After tiring from doing house chores one day,  I said to my four year old daughter, ‘cant you help me in doing some work !’

‘Dont worry mom! when i will grow up i will buy you a machine. You will press a button and thak se kaam ho jai ga, thak se safai ho jai gee aur thak se kappre dhull jain ge,’…. I am still waiting for that machine.

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nazm: Tum ne Kitab aur Shamsheer ki qasm khai thi..!!

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.. ke tum is arz e Pak ki hifazat karo ge

marr mito ge agar koi chasm e budd iski janib uthi

bhula ker woh waaday woh qasmein tamam

tum ne apne hi haathon se iski hurmat ganwa di

 

khamosh hai sipah, saktay mein qom hai

be asar ho gayeen dastaan e shuja’at

sukoot aisa ke hai sheher e khamoshan ka guman

gehrey panion mein magar shorish e toofan hai

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my knight in shining armour.

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By Nusrat Osama

They’re changing guards at Buckingham Palace

One, two, three, four…

Christopher Robin went down with Alice

One, two, three, four…

Alice is marrying one of the guards

Soldiers’ life is terribly hard – Says Alice…

Not heeding what Alice said in this poem, I prided myself when I uttered the wows to end my maiden life. Those were the good old days when all the girls ‘oohed’ and ‘aahed’ upon seeing an army officer, and getting married to one was a dream come true.

The Queen of Melody sang beautiful songs in praise of the Dhol Sipahiya, great poets like Aleejee wrote beautiful lyrics to highlight their bravery. The handsome young Captain of the Armed Forces became a point of envy of all my friends and classmates. Even his name was envied – often linked with the great Muslim General of the early Islamic era, before the notoriety of OBL surfaced. “Fit for an army officer,” as a 3-star general had once remarked.

Row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream,

Merrily, merrily, merrily, life is but a dream!

The valour of Armed Forces – an inspiration to many

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A bouncy baby in a sixty year old me

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Not the Einstein we get to see everyday

I remember reading in a magazine some time ago that every person has a child hidden beneath, coming to think of it the child in me is a little ‘bouncy’. I have reached an age when facilities for senior citizens have opened new vistas of joy for me. The reality check came when I was standing in a queue to get my passport re-issued. The line was getting longer by the minute and as is the rule in our country, ladies with a ‘parchi’ (a piece of paper, probably from someone important, that lets you get away with stuff) were allowed to stand in front of me. An annoying situation but, nothing that I could do about. Suddenly an ‘officer-like’ person came out from behind the counter. He started checking the NICs of the ladies standing in the queue. At this time I thanked Almighty for I had recently celebrated my 60th birthday. The ‘good officer’ told everyone who was less than sixty to leave the line and go to another counter. ‘This,’ he said, ‘was for senior citizens’… There was never a happier moment for me as I stood triumphantly and at least four ladies in front of me left the line.

And yes, I was talking about the ‘bouncy child’ in me, I felt like doing a ‘bhangra’  (Punjab’s cultural dance) to express my jubilation but of course I did not.

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A General is not a general but a General

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By Nusrat Osama

It is said that ‘hennah’ does not release its color unless it is whetted and a person does not learn a lesson unless he stumbles.

Note: Not an ISI-backed training camp

Thanks to Almighty, I did not stumble in life but my experiences whetted me enough to give an everlasting color to me. Life is neither a touch of Midas nor a bed of Roses, it is in fact a thorny seat on which the person sitting remains in pain.

I worked as a teacher for almost fourteen years. Since I belong to an Army background, I served institutions which were invariably controlled by one of the Forces. Not Cadet Colleges as someone might think but those Public schools in which children of Forces personnel as well as civilians are educated.

Interestingly, honoring a senior is a hall mark of our Forces.  A second Lieutenant must salute to a Lieutenant, he to a Captain, Captain to a Major and the Major to a Lieutenant Colonel…the system goes on up to the rank of General. The poor Second Lieutenant who stands on the lowest rung of this ascending ladder of Officers has no officer to salute him. But under this small officer are the burly JCOs with their grand moustaches who in their capacity are victims of a similar situation.

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nazm: tuu sochta ho ga…!!

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aye meri qom ke bachchay tuu sochta ho ga..!!

kitna farq hai kisi ke kehne aur honay mein

jama’at mein ustani  ne ek din kaha tha

ek sha’ir ka khwaab hai ye khitta e zameen

per kitna bhayanak ho ga woh khwaab

ke jiski yeh taa’beer hai.. tuu sochta ho ga..!!

 

kia yehi woh watan hai jiski tareekh

Bhatti o Abbasi o Tufail ne khoon se likhi

kahan gayee woh azmat e rafta jiski qasm kha ker

dushman ki goli jawano ne seenay per roki

kioon neend aa gaye josheelay jazbon ko

kioon so gaye woh sarhad per.. tuu sochta ho ga..!!

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