It was Son’s brother in law B’s wedding day. We were quite late in reaching our destination which was a wedding hall in Chakdara. Whereas most people followed the old road to Swat from Tahtbai, we went on the newly built motorway. This was a longer route, but smoother than the old one, and had less traffic.
In the evening before the wedding the boy’s parents had invited their relatives. The event was held at home. It was colorful, first with the girls carrying thals of mehndi, and candles dancing on the dais, and later on men doing the Hatyn ( Peshawari dance).
The next day was the wedding day when we went to Swat. The boy’s parents had arranged the lunch for the guests there. We returned in the evening via the old route. The road was in terrible condition, and our car rattled with every bump. We feared we would be the last ones in the wedding party to return to the groom’s home, but were pleased when we came to know that we were ahead of the groom, and rest of the wedding party.
B’s friends had blocked the gate to the house with a vehicle. They demanded money to let anyone into the bridegroom’s home. They made a ton of money with B vowing to wreck vengeance upon them upon once their turn to get married came.
Sometimes my nephew’s wife Hajra, my sister, friends, and my son send me funny, or interesting videos, and clips they come across. Occasionally I may take a look, but most of the time I keep on deleting without seeing. I get tired as there are a great number of them, it is almost impossible for me. They clog my iPhone.
The election in Pakistan has brought out a spate of videos. There are many about Shabaz Sharif who is, and has been the chief minister of Punjab, and is the younger brother of Nawaz Sharif ex Prime Minister of the country. I laughed at the comments. One chap wrote: Shabaz Sharif should be renamed Shadi Sharif. He got married a couple of times, and shadi in Urdu means marriage.
Another one wrote: One can’t get married for the first time, and our politicians get to marry ten times. Seems his heart is burnt out with jealousy, since a marriage is a costly affair back home.
Another one: Keep on plundering the country, and spend the plunder on marriages.
Then there are videos of Nawaz Sharif, Zardari’s many extra marital affairs, and Imran Khan’s three marriages. At least Imran Khan doesn’t indulge in affairs outside marriage. He is a reformed person now. There has been a lot of out cry against his prostrating at the tomb of Baba Farid, and people saying he committed shirk. Shirk means a sin for which there is no forgiveness from God. Prostrating before anyone beside God is considered a major sin in Islam.
I can only say “Allah have mercy on us”.
First it was Zardari who wanted to gain sympathies of the poor fools (who forget how the wily politicians try to gain their votes, and then forget their promises), by first murdering Benazir Bhutto, and then posturing as the bereaved husband. He even changed his children’s last names to Bhutto. He would place Benazir’s photo every place he sat, stood, or whatever.
Taking a leaf from Zardari’s antics, now it’s Nawaz Sharif’s turn. While Zardari rule has been as a president of Pakistan, Nawaz Sharif (not sharif (pious) as the name indicates) has been a Prime Minister. He recently shamed the country publicly in acknowledging the debacle of terrorism which India accused Pakistan of doing so, and the Indian government themselves staged. I hope, and pray the people chase him with sticks, or shower him with rotten eggs, or tomatoes, when he dares show his face to the public.
It’s laughable Nawaz Sharif spending huge amounts in Pounds currency to keep the dead Kulsum Nawaz (his wife) alive on ventilators in England, just to gain sympathies of the masses to win elections in Pakistan. In his tenure as a Prime Minister he sank Pakistan more deeply into the quagmires of debt than his predecessors.
It will be more beneficial to his dead wife if he gives away that money in charity in her name, or give relief to our poor country in paying the country’s huge debts from IMF.
Please Mr. Nawaz spare us your from your crocodile tears.
IB (grandson) is a funny fellow. He was asking me about M1 (daughter ‘s eldest one), and when was she returning back from Pakistan? She has gone there along with her parents, and siblings to attend her cousin’s wedding. I told him the due date which is four days later.
I asked him, “Are you missing her?”
M1 is great with kids. They open up to her. Apparently it looks like I don’t have this skill. When she was here for a few days, IB wouldn’t leave her side for a minute even. If she was sitting on a sofa, he would be cuddled up next to her. When she would lie down on bed, IB would go to his bed only when lights were turned off. I think if he would have permission to sleep in her bed, he would have gladly done so.
His reply to my question was, “It’s good to have someone to talk to.”
So whose fault it is?
Certainly not mine! Looks like I have crossed over into invisibility.
I’m not worried as to where my astral body will go after my death, but getting worried as to where I’ll be buried once I’m gone? I searched for a Muslim graveyard in New Bedford, then onwards in Boston. It doesn’t exist. I phoned the Muslim Centre there today. Let’s see what answer will they give me?
I wasn’t bothered earlier, cause I had told my children to take me back to Pakistan, and bury me alongside their father in his ancestral village. A step aunt got buried alongside my late husband, despite my telling everybody there. My place was gone.
Last year when I went to visit, I was all set to enclose a space towards the foot of my husband’s grave, trying to ensure that I would get buried there eventually. I gave up that dream once I encountered my evil step brother in law, and his greedy ways. I don’t want to see him even after death. I want to be a million miles away.
Now the question arises: where is my burial space?
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My village home front lawn
Feeling faint with worry I listened to the phone call from my chowkidar (watchman or caretaker) who looks after my village home in Charsadda, Pakistan. He let me know that my brother in law A had been sick for some time. His wife had died thirteen years earlier. He had no children, and there was no one to take care of him. The chowkidar Hakim wanted me to give him permission to bring A to my home so that he could take care of him. Barely three days later Hakim wanted me to care of the incurring expenses. Seeing no way out I had to agree to it.
I just don’t understand where has his money gone from his bank account, saving funds, and from his property? He wasn’t poor. Why didn’t Hakim told me earlier, so that I had a talk with A?
I had gone early to bed a day earlier. Wakened by the phone I listened to the news that A had died. It was night here but the day of 6th November had already dawned back in Charsadda. I had to give permission for the burial expenses, and so on.
I sometimes think it’s becoming harder to exist, and God piles on to test your faith. Son has been without a job since August. His bills,spousal, and child support has become my responsibility too. I hope Son soon acquire a job, otherwise I don’t know what we are going to do?
Please pray for us. Thank you.
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