Rewriting History Books.. Again




This is the last post of this year so I plan to make it as long as possible. Not that you will get bored reading it!!

But first things first!

Its been 60 years since the Tricolour was hosted in India and there are but few people today who know about the days of early freedom. The wounds of Partition are felt, no doubt, to a much bigger extent in Kashmir. And even if something happens in Pakistan, something has to happen here.. First I mention what happened there:

We all know Benazir Bhutto has been killed, right? But we don't know how!! Media has confused us. From bullet injuries to a cracked skull. Thats where I step in to provide the summary:


  1. Benazir Bhutto enters her bullet-proof white SUV after addressing a mammoth Election rally in Rawalpindi..

  2. She drives away only to stop soon to wave at a group of supporters. For this she climbs up into the open through the turret of her car (thats called a turret I think)

  3. A man steps out from the crowd with a gun and fires bullets into the SUV through the open Window..

  4. Bullets hit her chest and neck (And maybe even the skull as 3 rounds were fired)..

  5. A security guard leaps at the armed man who activates the bombs attached to his body. Explosion results killing at least 30..

  6. She is rushed to the Hospital..


Earlier Benazir had sent a confidential email stating the Musharraf would be responsible for her death because of not providing her adequate security..

Musharraf, on the other hand accuses the terrorist group Al Qaeda stating that

Al Qaeda leader 'Baitullah Mehsud' had congratulated his forces over phone for the assassination (which is said to have been tapped up by the Pakistan intelligence agencies).

However Baitullah Mehsud denied any involvement in her death as it is against their custom to attack a woman.

The search for her successor!!

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The photos at the right show the possible killer!! The left ones show the latest in Pakistan!!


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And thus the plot thickens!!!

Now,

Greater Kashmir carried a big page ordering a complete shutdown the next day (Of course someone else called for the Hartal; the same someone who wasnt allowed to leave his home on that fateful day)!

Speaking of Greater Kashmir, it is seeing the best time and the best articles. There has been a hue and cry over many things including the loudspeakers, the 'Vande Mataram' thing, LAWDA, hangul

etc but of course all of them fell on deaf ears (I mean blind eyes). And how can we forget the Eid special issue of GK. Eid Mubarak's from the Pinta's coming from all the streets. And roughly the ads covered 96% of the publication of GK that day. Well, Eid Mubarak!!


But now lets move on to the place where i live.. To be more specific near Hyderpora..

A new fly over is being built across the bypass crossing at err- Bypass. And its quite a treat watching it grow. And a better treat to your eyes seeing the chaos around it. Suddenly you may see an auto springing up from nowhere and murmur a word or two. Or worse you may watch an entire convoy pass before your eyes and helplessly keep quite. And of course the other cars behind you cant see it and press that shameless horn of theirs. Its not that you are going to cross all limits and slip between two trucks and give the other car to lead the row. (and face the brunt of the shameless horns).


Now Down South and a little bit to the west...


Gujarat!!

The revelations made by a “bajrangi” regarding Modi show him as a butcher. The investigations has revealed the hollow claims of safety of Muslims in India. It is the worst example of genocide. The perpetrator of this gory crime is the CM of Gujarat. The crime committed by Modi and his followers has exposed India's claims to be secular.

Is the the kinf od democracy that India is proud of? Where people ironically choose a killer to become their CM in order to sweep out minorities and strengthen Hinduism. The Indian law punishes only a common man who is powerless but spares mass killers like Modi. Tehelka team deserves praise as they have done an excellent job in unveiling the mask worn by Modi. Everyone should condemn Gujrat massacre and Modi and his followers. He should be dealt severly with and not made a CM yet again. But as this week had to flood the History books so- volia.. He is the CM yet again!!


There should be a law!!

A strict law!!

Just as there are strict guidelines regarding the qualifications for a job there should be some here too. Like how many people the contestant has killed before (Applicable to states like Gujrat, Chattisgarh, Jharkand and Bihar) and how many is he planning to kill more. Has the contestant any experience in genocides and how many years.

Well I have devoted some of my time to form an application form for such politicians. For those who received my email should have seen that and now must comment upon it. For those who wish to get that pdf file should email me at mamoonq[at]gmail[dot]com.

Well I am going now and i hope i didnt bore you much (The Truth is that you are bored and now I am talking about how much)

And a last word now..

Happy New Year and please please go and
visit this new forum for the Times Of Kashmir..

Yet another history book paragraph.. Wheee!!


Oh sorry! I forgot the video: Check this newly uploaded link:

Its a video showing Burn Hallians acting out a popular scene from the film 'Sholay' but in Kashmiri..

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-B9bknwZgGc




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Faithfreedom.org is crap!



I have been quite troubled. I visited a site lately.
www.faithfreedom.org

The pictures ares an indicator of the material in the site.

Wherever the eye goes, one can see Islam being portrayed wrongly. But not so wrongly as this site does. Its filled with crap members saying all sorts of crap things. And of course no one is ready to understand a thing. (Naturally)

Well... It was my job to report it to you. Now its your job to---errr do what you wish to do!



Here is an extract from the site:

"Muslims love to brag about the so called 'scientific miracles' in the Quran. In almost every debate with muslims, they will at some point, when they feel cornered bring out the 'scientific miracles' in the Quran to prove its divine origin. That, despite the fact that there are numerous instances in the Quran which are in direct contradiction to the fundamentals of applied science. Science in Quran has been refuted many times over and I do to wish to discuss science here again. The very unscientific concepts like Muhammd's joy-ride to paradise on a winged horse, his splitting of the moon, the jinns and angels, are conveniently ignored by Muslims when asked for a logical explanation."

'Naozubillah'


Cant anyone do anything about it.. Like hack them or something!!


Before you visit that site:
1. Do remember it can brainwash you.
2. Make sure you have lots of time.
3. See that you dont boil over too much.. Everyone has to go and report in one's own grave; so try to be a better Muslim yourself and forget about their fate. Allah will take care of them.
4. This is only for the strong hearted.

Take me to that stupid site..

The terrible forum where it all happens:
http://www.faithfreedom.org/forum/

With Good Intentions
QM
Fi-Aman Allah في امان الله



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Kashmir and everything about it.

I am back!! Much better hopefully..


The exams went well. I believe that they gave me a lot of experience (In case i get to give it again next year). Occasionally students used to know some question or the other (I am yet to figure out how?) and the mornings were spent cramming them up. It has been a tiresome month. My centre lay at the base of Shankaracharya hill and is called as the Govt. Boys High School. One thing which I noticed was that while we gave our papers in the class rooms, the students gave their classes in the open air (And the terribly cold air).

Winter is around and so is the shortage of everything that can be associated with it. And of course winter means a power cut. You are not going to be spared even if your brother's friend's father's nephew who is going out with someone high in the government has an acquaintance in the PDD.

Lets do some world watch before moving on to other things:
Sudden imposition of emergency and the suspension of the constitutional rights by Pervez Musharraf has brought Pakistan into its darkest phase ever. Officially it may be an emergency but partially it means Musharraf is everything. We might come across the situation when Musharraf the judge gives order to arrest Musharraf the general with the permission of Musharraf the president..Kashmir is affected (Thats what people say, I dont see a thing)


A beautiful vehicle came to a screeching halt. All people sorting used clothes in the Sunday market turned their heads. A well dressed buchi came out and pushed her parishaan zulfain with a gentle jerk of her surahidaar gurden. She was accompanied by her servant. Both walked towards a jacket seller. Good God! The buchi started sorting the jackets. She would pick a piece, try it and after looking in the mirror (that was put on sale by another vendor) from different angles reject it. The vendor loosened a gathri of jackets before her.
The buchi looked at the heap and repeated the exercise for quite some time. Finally she chose a jacket. Out came a few currency notes which she handed over to the vendor. The buchi was pleased with her find. She smiled and left in her vehicle.
The people who had abandoned their find started a fresh. The buchi will get the jacket dry cleaned and tell her friends that her relative got it from England for her. Her friends will praise it to please her. But the buchi knows that her friends know where from the jacket was purchased.
There was a time when people did not like getting noticed in the Sunday market. The buchies especially were scared of purchasing second hand clothes. But, times have changed and so has the attitude of the buchies. They have turned bold if not beautiful. Now they frequently visit the once detested place.
Every body in Kashmir knows that the beautiful jacket a girl boasts of having purchased in Geneva was actually donated by a foreigner for poor and distressed people in this part of the world. Similarly, the buchies know that the elegant dress a boy displays was sorted out from a heap of used clothes sent from a distant land by a generous doner.(Bangladesh Of course)

Slowly but surely the society has started accepting the harsh reality. The donors from saat samandar paar do not only donate clothes. They donate quilts, blankets, handkerchiefs, mufflers, socks, towels, shoes, curtains and even under garments.
The famous Bollywood actor, Raj Kapoor once sang, “Mera juta hai Japani, ye patloon Inglistani, sar pe lal topi Rusi phir bhi dil hai Hindustani.” This song fits well on the modern Kashmiris. Their jacket is from Bangladesh, their cap from Bangladesh, the trouser from the capital of Bangladesh, Shoe from a village in Bangladesh. But, they still continue to be Kashmiris although they do not know much about Kashmir and Kashmiri language.
This is yet another form of Kashmiriyat. A Kashmiri may wear a foreign jacket, he may use a quilt donated by a Meem but he continues to be a Kashmiri.
And Of course we do know about the sunglasser Kashmiri.

I look bored I guess let me leave... But do have a look here to entertain yourselves....

It is something placed by me an eon back..

GO!! comments

Bihaari Invasion In Kashmir, Why?


Where is Bihar? Bihar is surely in India but let me tell the readers that we have a personalized version of Bihar here in Kashmir at a place called as Hawal. An avid reader shares her experiences and thoughts (Some points were deliberately added and removed from the original submission)…

Here we go… Special thanks to the first contributor for ‘The Times Of Kashmir” alias ‘Eldin Bleze’

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*Kashmir, as commonly perceived, is a land of Kashmiris. Our ‘Mouj Kasheer’ (Mother Kashmir) belongs to us. We should be possessive about our land:

‘Jis mitti ko khoun se seencha, who Kashmir hamara hai’.

Ok! I don’t want to start a debate upon Azadi et al but want to direct the attention of the readers to a new phenomenon that is occurring in Kashmir.

  • The invasion of the Bihaaris has started.

They are coming in buses, in trains, in sumos, the Air-Deccans haven’t been spared too. They are leaving their dense Bihar to come here. I am using this term ‘Bihaari’ for a special case of the general folk who come across to do menial jobs-YES, I mean the bihaari laborers. It seems as if the Kashmiri is living in a wrong place; in a land completely occupied by non-Kashmiris. And the worse part is that our protectors (the security people remember!!) are much friendlier to them than to us. We have been abandoned in our own land. What’s happening around us? From cobblers to sweet vendors to barbers (the barbarians) they rule the valley of oppressors and deny the economic options that would otherwise have been for the local Kashmiri. And worse they claim to be Muslims which they are not! I have asked many to read the Qalimas but none did. You should try too. And I even saw a locket on a person with some goddess on it who originally was claiming to be a Muslim and even told his name as Abdul Saleem.

Consider the life of a Kashmiri outside Kashmir. All the time he is harassed, labeled as a terrorist, his life is made hell by the people around him, sometimes a Kashmiri doesn’t reveal that he is a Kashmiri (which I think is proper considering the things that accompany the Kashmiri label). The Non-Kashmiris tease the Kashmiris and then expect a grand welcome in their favor from us. Tourists are welcome. What I am talking about is the tribe of Bihaari laborers. No! Please don’t encourage them. Recent happenings in Kashmir should open your eyes. I am a bit young to discuss them but the reader should know what I am talking about.

Here is the link of what i mean, just a small hint..

May the good intentions behind this article draw the attention of friends and authorities towards the havoc! A poor Kashmiri is the worst hit, there jobs are being snatched off, their income reduced. No Kashmiri masons, painters, or carpenters wondering at their fates; these Bihaaris have taken it all.

Something must be immediately done before our Kashmir turns full of paupers. Intelligence wise the Kashmiri is much more developed than them and has a much wittier brain. While people think about logical ways to complete tasks; the Kashmiri is the person who thinks about applying a ‘chaal’ (trick) to complete the process. Bihar doesn’t have a history of culture, at least it cannot be compared to the works of the Kashmiris. So why let them come into our beautiful land.

Ok! Enough of seriousness here, time for some cooler stuff...

Read this joke:

“After 15 years from now all countries would be asked to give out what they are the richest in. (This joke supposes J&K as a country after 15 years). USA gives out nuclear weapons, Germany gives out scientists, Japan distributes mobile phones and other countries too participate. The next turn is of Kashmir which innocently distributes the Bihaaris.”

It might look funny but it has a deep and grave fact hidden in it.

I have a particularly interesting incident to mention here which once occurred on my way to exams. I had boarded the bus with the very heavy variety of a Pradeep’s Physics and a much heavier heart. And yeah! You all an realize the value of that last hour before exams! I immediately found a seat and started harnessing the power of this last hour.

Human nature or whatever you may call it, I looked up to see who was sitting next to me; though obliquely so that my ‘Koshur ego and attitude’ was not hurt. Lo! And Behold!-his excellency- Mr. Bihaari. His clothes were stained and the ’Sherlock’ inside me correctly guessed and elementarily-stated that his excellency was a painter. While this guy had a colourful shirt, mine was colourless: not the uniform but my world; Special thanks to that Physics paper. Hardly had I imagined that ‘his excellency’ would prove a scourge for me. That fellow was kind of ‘Brekaan Keyle’-(munching on bananas) as if he hadn’t seen one in Kashmir for a long long time. Well, it wouldn’t have bothered me only if he wouldn’t have been silly enough to drop a ‘Keyle khend’-(piece of the banana) on my clean uniform. He didn’t give much thought to it and continued ‘brekaan keyle’. Hawal came and his excellency went down the bus to join the thousands of similar looking Bihaaris. Many more Bihaaris boarded the bus: exchanging gestures, and peels of laughter. The bichara conductor; all he could do was say ‘Oo Baaya, chalo path path!’. And when the conductor asks for money, they say amongst themselves, “Paense tu delelo, ye mangey hai!” and thus they start. And with all that ‘til kangen’-(oily combed hair) having the special SKT oil applied doesn’t make them smell one bit good. (SKT is the special Sarsoun Ka Teil.)

Ok!

Finally the bus reached my destination and I saw the ‘Ghanta Ghar’- the famous clock tower of the valley. Its famous because most of the time, the time shown on it is 13. Yes 13-the right time to get it repaired. But since very less time remained for the exam, I hurried into my school and then into the examination hall. I sat down and started to think about the next 3 hours of my life. Suddenly I heard the teacher scream, “R. no 33, are you sleeping. Why don’t you answer your roll call??” I stood up and said, “ Ma’am, hum aaya hun! Woh babu log shour karat hain! Hum kuch sunta hi nahi houn!”

(Special thanks to the author who wished that this must appear after her name which was not to be mentioned.. The author wants that Kashmir should be like Kashmir, owned by Kashmiris and some further political thoughts that come to her mind aren’t to be mentioned here.)

And please do me a favour…

Read it once again!

  • {To make your article appear on this blog, send an email to eldinbleze@writeme.com}
  • {The shadow in the photo is mine, in case you wanted to know...hehe}
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The Times Of Kashmir

Ok! Eldin Bleze turns to 'The Times Of Kashmir', finally!!!

Good Idea!! Have to work on changing every bit of 'Eldin Bleze' to ' The Times Of Kashmir'.
The blog address wont change though. comments

How to Display Icons without a label

Yeah..

My Exams are now over.. (Finally)

And now i am starting to do something to my blog..
and my computer too..

I just found how to do this:
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How about Making the Labels disappear from your desktop (For windows user

s)


  • Right click on any Icon and select Rename (Or press F2 key)
  • Keep [Alt] pressed and enter 0160 on the numeric pad (It wont show you though)
  • Leave th [Alt] Key and then press [enter]
Volia....
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And Yes The Yemberzal Magazine Is Updated now..

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Kalpana Chawla rebirth

Copied from Times of India..


KHURJA (Uttar Pradesh): A four-year-old girl who claims her name is Kalpana Chawla and that she died up in the skies four years ago is drawing huge crowds in a village here in Uttar Pradesh.


Residents of Nar Mohammadpur village, about 35 km from here, where little Upasana is visiting her relatives, think she might be the reincarnation of the India born astronaut Kalpana Chawla, who died when US space shuttle Columbia crashed four years ago.

The news of the girl's claim spread quickly in the area after she spoke to some villagers here.

"I am Kalpana Chawla," says Upasana, who reportedly fears the sight an aircraft. She has been telling her illiterate parents that she died in a "crash" up in the skies.

"Upasana has been telling us ever since she started speaking that her name was Kalpana Chawla and that her father's name was Banarsi Das Chawla but we could not figure out anything as we had never heard of Kalpana," Upasana's father Raj Kumar told reporters on Friday.

Raj Kumar is a resident of Pata village of Etawah district where he works as a labourer.

"Yet Upasana's proclamation led us all to believe that she was actually talking about her previous birth," he said. "She claims that the spacecraft was hit by a huge ball of ice that sent it crashing and ended her life."

Upasana was born barely two months after the astronaut's death in 2003.
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The Exam

You got to wait until my term exams are finished..
Then you got to wait until my BSNl Dial-up allows posting of photos..
Then you got to wait until my results come-out..

So Do something till then..

Start preparing for your finals..( The Final Exam which Allah has promised us)
Start cramming Quran..

Coz that exam will not come with a date-sheet...

And hows my blog looking now..
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Thy shall be a Kashmiri...






Just when the weather started to get a little hot, I came up with this hot post. This post is about a series of funny incidents that Kashmiris have experienced during their life-time. It indicates the level of intelligence of some of our brethren which in turn will tell you a little about yourself (that is if you are a Kashmiri).


My first report will be about an incident in Kulgam. When (somehow) the J&K Bank guys introduced ATM’s all across Kashmir, the people tried hard to figure out how to operate the ‘latest’ machines. The first few months were saturated with complaints about ATM cards being stuck in the card slots as the common Kashmiri didn’t know which the ‘right side in’ was. So naturally the card refused to come out which meant the manager to rush out of his cozy little office. This means that the manager and the card had an inverse relationship with one another. While one used to come out, the other would be stuck.

Ok!! Now read this:

A very intelligent Kashmiri was given the ATM card. He thought that a card which was so useful and delicate will get spoiled by the atmosphere. Maybe he should protect it, but how? So he swiftly ran to a stationery shop and got his ‘prized possession’ laminated. You can call it stupidity or foolishness or any other word which you like, but I will refer to it as Koshurness. (Please don’t try this at home).


Upon seeing a fellow Kashmiri blog hosting pictures of the wazawan (The sakooter, you can find it on my blog-roll) I thought of introducing some pictures into my own blog. After all, pictures of wazawan and the ‘Kashmiri foolishness’ will better suit a much cooler blog; my blog

Now,
The Pictures…..

Featuring: The creepy CRPF guys (Ze-zentral-rezerve-poliz-forze)
Venue: Near Bakhzhi ztadium
Time: Any time
Action



These two pictures (somewhere up there) show a very common scene at Haft-Chinar near the ‘Bakshi Stadium’.
The Crpf guys don’t let normal traffic to pass through that intersection which connects Haft-chinar and Main-Chowk Jawahar nagar. The poor people then have to go round and round around their surroundings (I really found that). One of the picture shows a traffic-jam in the background. It just shows that the Crpf are not ‘Awaam ke muhafiz’ but ‘Apney aap ke muhafiz’

That was enough anti-Crpf , now lets do some anti-Greater Kashmir.


Sometimes I decide that I will wage a war against the ‘Greater Kashmir’ newspaper. It really gets on my nerves. Whenever I write a letter to the editor after finding those (many) faults in the paper and e-mail it to them, all I get is my time wasted. I don’t even get a reply stating that the error has been acknowledged and ‘thank you for that’, leave alone my letter coming in print. Now I have stopped doing that and have preserved them for a special post called ‘Anti-Greater-Kashmir’.

Consider this:
The ‘GK’ guys give a Sunday Supplement Paper called as ‘GK Plus’.

Yes, just as ‘C’ language got modified to ‘C++’; the errors of ‘GK’ get modified to ‘GK plus’.
In an article about mobile phones, on May………there was paragraph which had the words: “… [Citation Needed]…” This word is the part of the vocabulary which ‘Wikipedia’ uses in those articles which have not been verified properly.(You can verify it by checking some of the articles in there).
But just look at those copy-cats which claim to be the number 1, they can’t even copy properly. It can even be the case that the author thought that it was also a part of the article which would only show the ‘Dakhl duin’ on his part. (‘Dakhl duin’ means to try to poke ones nose in others’ businesses).



I agree that all points (like technical ones) won’t be revealed to them by a super-natural power and they have to consult references and books. But that doesn’t mean you have to copy it word-by-word (because that would make you a photo-stat-machine, heh heh)

This was the letter that I wrote to the editor:

“I went through the article in GKPLUS 'From pigeon way to sms mode' by
Arshi Javaid and I was very dissapointed to see that.

In the third last paragraph there is a mention of 'citation needed'
which is a typical word used in WIKIPEDIA (which is an online
infosource).

Unfortunately your high quality newspaper lets such copy-cat rubbish
easily pass through which can harm the quality of your paper. Please
dont let it happen again.”
(Courtesy: My Gmail sent items option)

I even have a picture of that article:



Ok forget about it
Well, I just remembered a funny incident. It will be a little out of place here but it’s too funny to be ignored. Just a few months back when we were in Delhi for my check-up, we decided to pay a visit to Khwaga Gareeb Nawaz (Ajmer’s Shrine). We booked the tickets for Shatabhdhi express and waited for the train to arrive. In the meantime we started exploring the railway station and occasionally stopped at news-stands to have a peek at the morning papers. We found our rendezewous (What a Kashmiri spelling)-point (with the train, that is) and kept our luggage there. After having grown very tired by the early morning investigation we now looked for a place to rest. We saw a bench upon which a ‘meem’---(Kashmiri word for an English Lady) was seated. She had her arm in plaster and another arm busy in combing her hair. She saw my tired mom and offered her seat to mom. Hmm, Ok! So I believe that these people are very polished when it comes to the description of their manners. Thank you for that. Now just imagine a Kashmiri in place of that ‘meem’. Ahmm, Ahmm.

Ok! One day we were having our lunch at a restaurant-cum-dhaba-cum-hotel at Ajmer. Suddenly two Iranian looking people entered and sat at a table just next to our table. I was alone at the table waiting for lunch to be served while the others had gone to savour ice-creams. (I can eat them but I can’t eat them cold). Meanwhile those two ‘Iranian looking’ people ordered something. Well, it’s too funny. Let me tell you about their way of dressing. The male wore a bright red jacket (In Kashmir it is called a coat, elsewhere it’s always a jacket, got it?) on top of a very good jeans. The collar button (as expected) was closed. (even though the thermometer screamed 29 degree Celsius).]

When the others joined, I quietly questioned them regarding what they thought about those’ Iranian looking’ people. I got 80% of the answers as ‘From Kashmir’. Well, I started talking loudly in Kashmiri and I noticed, so too my cousin, that they both looked towards me, then looked towards each other. The ‘Kashmiri status’ was verified. It got verified to a much bigger extent when I heard one of them say ‘THAV’ after the other was pouring coke in his glass ( ‘thav’ means ‘its sufficient’ in Kashmiri). Now my Kashmiri gene started to get going. I resumed talking loudly in Kashmiri and I said all that which, after knowing that they were Kashmiris, shouldn’t have been said.

“Ye jamaat ma haz wechev, bata khewaan che goggle lageth, yethis garmas manz chukh coat logmut, yeczh harkat heki akh koshury kareth”

My folks began to giggle and chuckle.
Then we all returned to normal and started having their lunch…….

It is now become a family custom to mention about this incident in funny talks.

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Actually it has become a big post already, so I leave the good stuff right here.

REQUEST: All the Orkut users can now join a community called the Eldin Bleze community. Help and expand this jewel of Kashmir. Let the tradition of Mr. Mir Bashir and his creation ‘Pinta’ continue….continue.
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Buses, autos and cars

Hmm…
Let me think…
When was the last time I updated this thing? Oh,
Fer-get-bout-it…
Sorry-fer-that…

Actually it wasn’t my fault, it was Bsnl’s (commonly known as Bansal or ‘B’ekar ‘S’a ‘N’ational ‘L’andline) fault.
Ummm… Let me clear things now.
Following public demand to move to a new house, our officer-in-charge-la-family decided that the public was right and we needed to change places. After a long series of bye-bye’s and tata’s we started packing our things up and transported them to our new house. Then one particular Saturday was scribbled off in the History book of our family.

Yup! My life has changed now. Actually the place to which we have shifted was the receiving end of most of my posts, I used to criticize it the most:
“The urban settlement number 1”
Hyderpora
(And unfortunately my home right now).

Now I will head my eyes towards the (sniff) ex-home and find its faults. We had applied for a telephone connection a month back and till date it has not come. So I couldn’t update my blog. That was just the introduction; the real stuff is coming….


“Dargah, Dargah, Lal-Bazaar”, “Apour, Apour”—(Names of Kashmiri places as heard from a typical person leaning out of a typical bus”. Earlier this used to be my life and now it has changed to ..”Peerbagh, Bypass, Hum-Hama”.

I am writing this after having gathered all my experience regarding the transport system of Kashmir.
One thing that I have noticed is that no-one really knows how to drive except me (so gracefully).
Yet another thing that has been noticed nowadays is that all the bus drivers are now Grey-coloured (or Khaki-coloured). Well, I won’t comment on this rare progressive move and will save your time. (See, how considerate I am).

Well it is a positive move but here is something more positive:

TOI writes on May, 25..
“J&K government has ordered bus drivers and conductors in the valley to don a mix of grey and Khaki uniform instead of khaki-only dress after a militant outfit warned them against ‘wearing the uniform of security forces’”.

Ok, Ok enough of this.. I leave this political stuff to senior bloggers whom you can find in my blog-roll at the far-right of your screen. Now for Eldin-Bleze ‘original’ stuff….

A lot of things occur inside these buses. Quarrels between people and the conductor are worth mentioning.. From a dispute over re.1 to a scuffle over over-loading, they all happen. Either it is the conductor who loses or the passengers that win. (What is the difference?)

Most People in Kashmir might have seen what Mr. Bashir Mir have seen:
“I have seen that younger folk normally give their seat to ladies or elder-people.”

Now reflect upon this explanation given by the best chemistry teacher of the valley..:

“There is a very interesting thing to be noticed. Consider a college going boy who is sitting on the back seat of a bus. Suddenly a very bulky man boards the bus, finds space besides the boy and hurries over to sit there. Suddenly, compression starts to take place.
The boy’s ribs are dislocated. The passengers on the seat try to adjust but can’t. The boy wants to stand up but can’t. After all, he needs an excuse. Ooof, the boy struggles and tries to remain seated. He is out of breath. (This is an occasion when a boy remembers Allah).
Just then a very old man enters the bus. As there is no seat available he starts to support himself by holding onto a rod. The boy has a brain-wave. He stands up and politely asks the old man to take his place. The poor old fellow thanks Allah and gives the boy a big smile. The boy in return grins and nearly bursts out laughing.

So there is a lesson to be learnt from here. This example, first given by Mr. Bashir Mir, is one of those umpteenth stories that he has told us.


I wish to share some interesting observations with you regarding the transport service of Kashmir. There are two unique species that are always associated with the Kashmiri Bus.
One is the In-charge of the bus. (Locally called as Wosta, translated as Master). These are special varieties of “pretending-to-be-deaf” people who never listen to word what others say. They only respond to a “lot-sa-wosta”-(Slow-It-Master). This special breed of Kashmiris are worthy of compassion since they don’t even have the right of answering-nature’s-call when on duty. Their day starts with students and continues with students and ends with students. They are either very young lads who don’t seem to be eligible for getting a license or very old lads whose eye-sight cannot be relied upon. The rest in-between forms the passengers.

Students like me (Yeah, Like me) have adopted a small trick. As soon as the conductor asks for money, we give an official excuse of “Students concession” which entitles us to give less money than we actually are to give. Some conductors agree while others are made to agree. But now, they have become a little clever; they refuse to let students get in the bus fearing that it is once again “Concession time”. The huge bulky school bags don’t help the cause also by occupying further space and causing a financial loss to the bus account. The volume in which the conductor could have squeezed in a few more “Passengers” remains occupies by the bags. Thus we hear all sorts of bad things being spoken against the “special concession policy”. However, it is still uncertain whether there is such as a policy at all.

To manage (or mis-manage) the growing traffic in the valley, there are abundant blue-colored aliens seen in some areas. Locally called as “Traffic-Polcewoul”-(The traffic policeman); they try (unsuccessfully) to control the traffic and prevent jams from happening. Their duty is much like the traffic signal: stopping one lane while letting the other pass. Had the government spent on Traffic Lights, things would have been different. Actually, I think that traffic lights would not have worked in Srinagar (The summer capital of Kashmir). What does a horse-driven-cart’s driver (Wosta) know about the red light. If he does know, there is possibly no guarantee that the horse knows that. For it, the lights are yet another “as-if-it-were-nothing”. Thus the need for the man in blue uniform. At least he can run after the horse and charge it for “signal break by a heavy vehicle with more than one horse power”. Hats off to the Kashmiri Traffic-man. Their yet another duty is to stop every female driver who is traveling alone and start asking her for her license and passes. If available, they try for the pollution certificate. If that’s available, then they accuse her of not wearing the seat belt. And as always the poor ladies are forced to accept their crime against the incriminating evidence. But to solve matters quickly, she slips out a note of fifty into the hands of the Blue alien. Matters solved, parties agreed, compromise made, and then good-bye.

Everyday the bus-guys complete about 15 Rounds around their designated areas and I mean everyday
“Everyday is the life, and one whole life is but a Day repeated…….Dante”

If you are driving behind a bus in Kashmir you have to be really careful and alert, as the bus can stop anytime without any prior warning. And you could end up colliding with the “clean, green, stopping machine” and it would all be your fault.

Finale:
Laughter is an integral part of life, one that we could ill-afford to lose. To laugh at ourselves (Yes, our own Kashmiri-selves), we have to stand outside ourselves-and that’s an immense benefit.


Grand Finale:
So enter a bus and laugh yourself out.. comments

DustBin Unlimited

As the most eligible bachelor of the country, Abhishek Bachchan, weds the most beautiful woman in the world, Aishwarya Rai, Kashmir wasn't disturbed at all.


 I happened to open my Tv yesterday and expected to see everywhere the marriage of the superstars ( Ash and Abhi )tele-casted on every possible channel. After a few clicks on the BPL remote, I couldnt even search for one channel that aired the news of the wedding. All I could see was my school. 
(Wait a minute, MY SCHOOL????).


 Excited, I started wathching a particular news channel. Then I figured that somehow the marriage wasnt enough BIG enough, as a much bigger news was shown everywhere. Burn Hall School, Oh no! Maybe a publicity stunt so that the name of our school may reside on every Bolly-Wood fan's Mouth and be the topic of his mother-in-law (Ahmmm). 


Or does it contain some truth. 


 For those who dont know what I am Talking about, they should wait for a post in which I will get the matter cleared. Studying in "the famous" School will surely help. 
Until ThenGo here: Going here will immediately fill you in... 


Now back to my trademark writing style.


 “
Any fool can criticize,
And many of them do,
You are welcome to join them,
- If that's OK with you…”
 (I also criticize, so let me tell you.) 
 (I believe I am a better critic than you.)






 All the readers are welcome to express their views and suggestions, please find the ‘comment’ link below and try to click it. If you can’t then don’t blame yourself; it could be the mouse that could be the culprit or your brain for lack of comments... 


 ”To err is human. To really foul things up requires a computer”.


—(I have one, and you have one in front of you).


Well,  I just thought that writing stuff like this initially gets the reader to think that he has stumbled upon interesting stuff, but believe me you can safely shut down your brains while reading this. I just came across this idea when I read this… “Please don't throw your cigarette butts on the floor, the cockroaches are getting cancer.” Ok! Enough of the lovely stuff and all the huge smiles on your faces. 
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Main Stuff Starts Now:
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Let us get right into criticizing the poor Kashmiri... During my stay at the Hospital, I observed a lot of things which is common in the Kashmiris. The usage of the dustbin is one such thing that all Kashmiris have in common. The dustbin is a very lucky creature in Kashmir. (From now on whenever I shall speak of dustbins, I shall mean the ones on the road, hospitals, public places and not the ones which are inside the houses.). It was meant to swallow junk but all one can find is that the junk outside it and the street dogs inside it. (Busy throwing out the junk that somehow falls inside it.). I decided to sacrifice one hour and see the hourly usage of a typical dustbin. 


I chose one for my experiment at a beautiful garden of Srinagar. I found (finally) a clean place to sit and directed my eyes towards the dustbin. For one whole hour, I saw people of all kinds moving past that dustbin. The thing I observed was truly an astonishing one. Only the NRKs (Non-Resident-Kashmiris) observed that piece of cylindrical metal on the ground and threw the occasional chips packet into it. The rest of us Kashmiris either didn’t notice it and even if they did, the junk from their hands landed neatly outside the dustbin. 


 In the recent years there has been a gradual increase in the number of houses in the urban settlements. The most popular of the urban settlements is a place called HYDER-PORA (It lies in district Bud-gam ---which literally means “The Big Village”). As a universal rule urban settlements are more planned than the actual town/city (and Hyder-pora is no exception to this). Studded with multimillion houses with multimillion spent on their construction, their owners consider themselves belonging to the elite group. (Please do forgive me if you do). 


In comparison I live in downtown, which boasts of a limited number of such palaces. But both places being situated in Kashmir have their common nucleus of habits. Yes, the age old habit of not using Dustbins. In most places (usually posh areas) if you come across a vacant plot, be ready to see as the end-place of all the junk from the local houses. The respectable Kashmiris clean out their houses and make their surroundings unclean. (What a sense of hygiene). In the hospitals of the valley, the scene is no different. Countless heaps of uneaten rice and food are seen in the toilets (What a humiliation of Allah’s given gift). Their not only exists the factor of disregard towards ‘Riziq’ (Food) but also the fact that the hospital guys find it hard to clean them every day. The people who do such things are (surely) unaware of the dustbins provided by the hospitals. The Kashmiris have learnt to listen to English songs. They now know the difference between ‘Shakira’ and ‘Ricky Martin’, they are familiar with rap songs, they prefer jeans over the traditional clothes, they wear designer sun-glasses (believe me even inside the houses), they wear classy wristwatches, ---in short they are turning to the stylish western culture but the point is that they still don’t know what ‘using a dustbin’ means.. 


 Finale: Ants can learn to walk backwards, the sun can sleep overtime (can it), but the Kashmiri will never learn to use the dustbin. 


Grand finale: Actually they use one, and this one is better known as the stomach. So Which one do you use? comments

The gene

Most medicines have something written in print: “Store away from light and heat”. The primary reason for this is that the medicine, if exposed to energy, develops active species called as free radicals which are very dangerous to the body. But as I have been saying time and again, the common Kashmiri has such a mind that thinks in a manner quite opposite to rational thinking. They find it much better to display the medicine bottles at the window-sill so that the occasional passerby sees it and comes inside for enquiring. As it is with Kashmiri nature he cannot enter empty-handed. So an illness eventually brings in supplies to the house.

Little does the Kashmiri know what is happening in side their mass communication device. It is all in the gene; it can’t be amounted to anything else. After all, how can be there a similarity in the behavior of the common Kashmiri? This Kashmiri knows what sun-glasses are and still wears them in rooms. This Kashmiri thinks that he is in par with modern fashions. The same Kashmiri is not ready to accept that food cannot be classified as ‘garm’ or ‘sard’—( hot or cold, this age old Kashmiri classification is not on the basis of temperature but on unknown conditions e.g. eggplant (brinjal) is ‘garm’ and spinach is ‘sard’).

Thus I theorize a new gene: “The Kashmiri gene” present in all Kashmiris, dormant in some yet active in most. This gene can be safely associated with a particular common Kashmiri trait of ‘Hoarding’. (Though in some, it mutates to ‘Kanjoosee’—miser ness).

The Kashmiri valley is connected to rest of India by a road which passes through mighty mountains and steep drops. Occasionally in winters, the road is closed for traffic due to blockage by snow or rocks. Thus, supplies to the valley are stopped until the roads are declared open for traffic. Among those who suffer most are the butchers and the poultry shops. (After all you can’t bring thousands of sheep and chicken using the costly and luxurious air-travel.). As soon as the road blockage is announced, the Kashmiri gene is activated. All the traders of the valley, sensing an opportunity to make extra bucks, hoard the essential commodities and lock them away in their stores. Thus, suddenly one finds everything disappearing from the markets; from vegetables to clothes. Ask anyone about this sudden shortage of goods and he will reply, “The road is blocked so the supplies aren’t coming. The demand is far greater than the supply.”

A local having a family to look-after eventually ends up giving more for the goods which he buys. There is a very interesting incident that I wish to mention here. One day, during Mr. Bakhshi’s reign, the road was blocked due to some mud-slides. Naturally the essential commodities disappeared from the shelves and reappeared in the store-houses.
The situation was extremely serious as the road was expected to remain like that for a fortnight. Then the crafty mind of Mr. Bakhshi (who himself is a Kashmiri) cooked something up. He made the radios to (wrongly) announce that the road had been repaired and the essential commodities were rushing into Kashmir. No sooner this announcement was made; the supplies started appearing back in the shops. “A diamond cuts a diamond” but in this case it was a “Kashmiri who cut the Kashmiri”.

THE KASHMIRI:
A Kashmiri doesn’t want to take risks especially where his life and money are concerned. He is a typical example of “penny-wise-pound-foolish”. I want to remind you of a particular chap whom I have mentioned before in my posts. In ELDIN-BLEZE (the charismatic tuition centre, remember?) there was a boy whose house unfortunately was situated between mine and eldin bleze. The boys’ family has a shop in LAL-CHOWK (and believe me this is not cheap matter). Had he invested the same in some factory, things would have been different but, as I have mentioned above, no risks involved.
Being so rich they just couldn’t afford to give the boy money for traveling. Thus, every day I ended up escorting ‘His Majesty’ to ‘His Palace’.

That boy would never let me have moment of peace at Eldin Bleze. All the time in Eldin-Bleze, I had my mind hovering upon the thought of having to pick him up. While he studied attentively, I had a strange feeling of insecurity. As soon as the class used to finish and the boys started taking turns to attack that poor exit door, I think of the coming moments. Not that I am a selfish guy, but I really hated him (everyone has emotions, including me). Whenever I think of the guy or hear his name somewhere, my blood begins to freeze (could have boiled but I don’t have that much energy in me).

As soon as I used to step out of eldin bleze, VOLIA, he used to appear with a broad smile on his face: “Are you going home?” Only one few occasions I used to gather the courage to reply in the negative and save my temper from hitting infinity. But I couldn’t have an excuse for each and every day.

Eventually, I left the splendid tuition centre

From the day when I left eldin bleze I noticed a change I that boy. No more ‘hi’ or ‘hello’, no more ‘follow the leader’, no more ‘please’. Sadly he stared acting as if I was merely a beggar and he himself the ‘Grand Canyon’ (Now where did that come from?)
After months of tolerating such an attitude, one day I noticed him smiling at me. Oho trouble. He must have found out a plan to use me for his (crafty) plans. He is like the ‘snowfall’ of Kashmir; no one can predict when it will occur.

Finale:
One day I said:
“I being a Kashmiri has that slight hatred towards another one (I have the ‘Kashmiri gene’ in me). But I rather think that I have an anti-Kashmiri gene. I can’t stand the manners of a Kashmiri, the thankless variety of Homo-Sapiens. I am not too cultured myself also but I try to show the civilized beast inside me and not the uncouth (Yes, the perfect word) Kashmiri beast inside me who attacks wazwan like a lion.”





I reckon that was destiny wishing to introduce me to the mysterious Kashmiri gene.
And I think I did my job to introduce it to you. comments

A new beginning



My appendix has been removed. 
Yes. Actually it all started like this. After a month of consuming anti-biotics, I started experiencing a strange pain in my abdomen.The typical Kashmiris were consulted and their expert opinion had. They diagnosed the pain to be a side effect of the really long treatment of anti-biotics. 


In more familiar language, “Garmee chay gametch”—(You’ve grown hot). Little did I know what lay in store for me and my blog… Read on… 


Slowly but surely the pain began to build up and started becoming unbearable. Fortunately the SKIMS hospital lies very close to our home-just few miles away. After putting a lot of thought into it, my parents finally decided that it was time for me to visit the hospital. The clock had a perfect 08:00 on its display with a ‘pm’ written just below it. Without further delay, we headed towards SKIMS. After a few minutes of dancing on the pot-holes and speed-breakers, our car stopped outside the emergency block of SKIMS. 


 Well, I have been using the word SKIMS a lot of times (without properly defining what it means) so I should inform the user about it. SKIMS or Sheri-Kashmir Institute of Medical Sciences is a semi-modern hospital having a strange Kashmiri appearance. It is a huge collection of brown solid buildings-deceptive, since it is a good deal bigger than it actually looks. All the better doctors of Kashmir, surely not here, have gone to hospitals offering better pay and work conditions. The people who remain constitute a bunch of senior doctors who were initially not tempted by better opportunities. Supporting them are junior doctors from all corners of Kashmir with all sorts of dialects and accents. 


 After an emergency surgery for the removal of my appendix, I was put into the surgery ward. Actually I wish to discuss the surgery in detail. After a lot of examination, tests and doctors poking fingers into my tummy, the doctors decided that my appendix was to be removed. I was put on a trolley and slowly pushed towards an unknown destination. With every passing light bulb that I saw on the ceiling while lying on my back, I was moving closer and closer to the place where cutting human beings with a knife is not a crime.


 I was led inside the operation theatre and made to lie on a very strange looking bed. Couple of doctors came to examine me, asked my name, the place where I lived, the name of my school and everything that shouldn’t have concerned them one bit. It was not going to help them in surgery anyway. Slowly a hand with a mask in it appeared from the side and started moving towards my face. Yes, I knew that had to come-Anesthesia. I thought I will try to resist sleep or even fool the doctors by closing my eyes then open them again. 


I kept my eyes open as wide as possible and then found myself being pushed in a trolley. Those light bulbs once again whizzing past. Strange as it may seem, my abdomen felt like ice. Oh! I had been operated upon and I couldn’t understand that why I didn’t feel the time passing by? I was told that the surgery took two long hours even though it seemed to me like a second. Really, my mind was switched off and then back on again. 


During the few days that I spent there I learnt many things. The ward was filled with simpleton villagers ( an appropriate Kashmiri word is ‘grees’). Even some of the doctors belonged to that category. Once during a routine check-up a doctor asked, “Hatuw, Tse mahuw chuy yed chakar yewaan” (Is strolling coming to you?). I being raised at a place where refined Kashmiri is being spoken without that typical Kashmiri accent ( which has frequent fluctuations in tone and shrillness) found it hard to understand (After all, how is strolling related to me?). I, quite confused , slowly looked at my mother, who gave me a sympathetic grin. Then she murmured in a language that I could understand better that the doctor was asking about cramps in my tummy. (Thanks to the knowledge of Ma regarding the ‘grees’).


 It also came under my observation that there is no dedication from the side of the doctors to work. The exception is a ward boy who is (unfortunately) a little mentally unfit. He does not do work at his allotted places but works wherever he wishes to. I want to stress upon that he really works. My folks always found him scrubbing the floors, pushing trolleys and what not. 


 SKIMS would have been a wonderful hospital had there not been the element of ‘Grees’. The bathrooms and toilets would have been sparkling clean had there not been the element of ‘Grees’. There would not have been leftover food in the bathroom drain had there not been the ‘Grees’. There would have been soaps and towels in there had there not been the ‘Gress’. There would have been other patients as well had there not been the ‘GRESS”. Basically I am mistaken, Kashmiris are known as grees people, like me, like you, like every stupid guy who walks around!!! Including me :D comments