Crying is ok
Taking a break is ok
Having a bad day is ok
We are going to be ok
2/ Numbers game
Pakistan has about 625,000 survivors in a population of 223 million or .013%
Majority victims/survivors are of lower to lower middle segments
Chances of knowing a survivor are pretty less for most, esp for those with a voice
So ignorance prevails
3/ Will of God
Everything happens by the Will of God, even terrorism!
How do you question God?
Even the question, How can killing innocents be His will? Is covered by the green, or a fear of being shunned for questioning the will
4/ Culture of silence:
Questioning is taboo, how & who will tell me ‘Why Me?’
Even grief is a silent visitor to be greeted gallantly!
Suffocating on ones own bile & tears for a fate bludgeoned on us!
5/ Survivors guilt:
If this had happened then he/she would not have been there & been saved!
Am I wrong to survive when others did not (self-guilt).
6/ Loss of faith:
Traumatic responses differ by individuals & are influenced by age, gender, political, religious or cultural affiliations
Terrorism can shatter core beliefs, including belief in the world as a just place ('existential dilemma'), become PTSD or collective trauma
6/ The lives of survivors often change permanently when faced with the unexpected loss of loved ones. it's not surprising that this also tests people's beliefs & faith!
Although religion may help cope with unexpected loss & adjust to or recover from trauma, the ‘why me’ staying
7/ Shahadat (martyrdom)
The belief that victims are shaheed, denial means questioning the will of God!
The VE‘ist claim bomber is shaheed, I have to accept the verdict that Gul is shaheed!
There cannot be a middle ground in matters of faith & belief except silence or sin
8/ Poor understanding of trauma & PTSD at individually & societal level
Negative concept of counselling in local cultures & giving time for recovery/growth from trauma are issues totally ignored at all levels which create a feeling of loneliness, deep grief, pangs of sadness and
8a/
..... despondency, a pain that refuses to go away
The death of a loved brings deep sadness. The intense grief of early mourning lessens as time passes, alternating between sorrow & ability to rediscover life
This takes time, often years, which family & society don’t give!
9/ Finally remember:
Crying is ok
Taking a break is ok
Having a bad day is ok
Take time to grieve, it’s your loss, the one who understands your feeling may not express it
Time glosses over hurt with new hurts, learn to accept loss & survive!
1/ We grew up with ‘you may eat or drink anything at Shia friends place but not water’ not that it stopped us gulping jugs after cricket or football!
After losing my wife in a suicide attack on 05/10/2009 & starting my ‘Say No to Terrorism’ crusade & sharing survivors stories
My Grand Father Mr. Ghulam Nabi Malik was Deputy #Principal Mayo School of Arts #Lahore in 1947 and took over at Partition as the first Pakistani Principal.
He remained principal till 1953
(MSA is now the National College of Arts)
Class at Mayo School of Arts #Lahore c. 1952
It's Mayo School of Arts, when a "mix class" was started on the request of "Kutab Shaikh" to "Mr. Ghulam Nabi", the Principal of the Mayo School at that time, ..........
As kids saw ‘Bi-scope’ wala in our street in Lahore
The chant that I remember was:
Barah maan ki dhoban dekho
Dili a katab manar dekho
Dekho Gama palwan dekho
Aur bahut sa aur saman dekho
Aa jao aa jao doo paiaa mae sara Jahan dekho!
Memories
Then we got a View Master (late 1950 early 1960) & grandfather moved to Gulberg
Street life was left behind in Kucha Kakezain, Dili Darwaja, Sanda & Ichra; Ladu pethian walay & katlama included!
Thinking of all who are awake so we can sleep!
They are awake even when they know how we ridicule them as an organisation & as people serving in it!
Life is not cheap, a 110/- rupee bullet does not kill a soldier it removes a lifelong investment in skills!
ASK ME WHAT I WAS
I'll reply with what I've done.
Those things others would not do, I did;
Those rivers others would not swim, I swam;
Those hills others would not climb, I conquered;
Those bridges others would not cross, I crossed;
I have celebrated. I have mourned.
I have smiled and I have frowned.
I have seen death and felt its warm breath.
It did not faze me, for I was different.
I was a warrior.
You ask me what I was?
It was my destiny. Until my last breath.
To be a soldier.
And my spirit shall live forever
Participated in Zoom dua for Nadeem Mumtaz of Fazal Din & Sons, praying for his maghfirat & strength for the family I posted:
Assalam o alaikum all, two before & two following me ie five generations have climbed the steps to Fazal Dins the Mall Lahore,
my dua is that my generations to follow may also know the conviction that up these steps would lie answer to their medicines needs right away or procured in a couple of days, aamin
A giant among pigmies no more, more miss him than we know!
.@NabihaMeher@PingHaider@billynumnum
1/ Rest in Peace Nadeem Mumtaz 😢
You are so familiar yet I just can’t place you!
Having been away from Lahore for half an age has made me lose touch with half a life! @NabihaMeher this is a thread about memories from childhood to a time Lahore became alien to me! @UmaimaBlogger
2/ #FazalDinSons The Mall Lahore, my earliest memory is going with my Dadi Mrs Ghulam Nabi Malik as a toddler to what was a shop with stairs, a veranda, an imposing tall door, & dark polished show cases, even as a toddler awesome interior was foreboding!
The Carminative misture,
3/ The Calamina Lotion, & the dreaded Anti-lice lotion (shudders even now) which none did better!
The wooden floor reminded me of tap-dancing & the gent at the end of the hall standing up to welcome us! Always knew we Grandchildren were home for the holidays & a warm handshake