All the stuff I have written

This is a new blog where I have given links to al the stuff I have written on the web.

click I Wrote This

Media should stop coverage of terrorist activities

I think media has a major role in promoting extremism and terrorism which is the biggest threat to the humanity.

Do you agree it?

If yes, please read this petition and sign it.

BBC Launches ‘Promote Terror’ Campaign

Media’s impact on people and their minds is universally accepted. When something gets coverage on print and electronic media, all the people give their attention and they suffer its negative or positive effects. That is why we think media always should coverage positive things and encourage them to form a healthy society. Big media organizations like BBC have more responsibility than any but alas! BBC is creating terror by its coverage to some minor issues.

Last month, BBC published a story on its Urdu website about a handwritten letter which threatened people for bad consequences if they continue listening music. After some days, it published another story about another handwritten letter addressed to hairdressers threatening them about shaving people’s beards.

The converge of these letters on BBC got much attention and created terror in Bajaur Agency.

I have lived in Bajaur agency; people of that area are Muslims but not extremists. I know they love music want to live a merry life. But there are still, as in the every corner of the world, some fanatics who do unusual things to satisfy their abnormal minds. When they get attention and coverage, they do more similar things and create more terror. Thus they become heroes and the whole society suffers their evil act.

BBC has more than 10 million viewers / listeners in the world and when it gives coverage to these minor things, it promotes terror and creates fear. When it published the first letter, there were more those stupid letters in Bajaur, Dara Adam Khel, Bannu and Dir, and BBC is publishing them regularly. That is why I call it BBC’s ‘PROMOTE TERROR’ campaign. I don’t know what is the purpose of this campaign.

Click on the link if you want to read this post in Pashto
http://www.worbal.com/hadi/index.php?mode=viewid&post_id=113

How To Learn A Foreign Language

I have never gone to any school. Just a few years study in some madrassahs is my education. Before going to madrassah, my father had taught me alphabets and how to join them to make words. When I was able to read books, I started to read every thing. A book, a newspaper, a magazine and I wrote a lot of them. I used to write fifty pages a day to make my writing fast and good. That is why I wrote all my notes of Arabic grammar books myself and other students copied them from me.
I left madrassah in 1996 and went to Lahore in search of some work. People were speaking Urdu there and it was my first time to hear Urdu. I found a Pashtoon friend there who taught me basic Urdu words and general sentences and then I started to read and read and read Urdu books, newspapers, magazines, digests and then wrote them on blank papers. In less than a year, I learned the language fluently by reading, writing and speaking with some good experience in Punjabi.
In 1998 my first Pashto article published in a bimonthly Pashto and Urdu magazine called “Qabayal’’.
I think to learn Urdu was easy for me because I was in Lahore where all the people were speaking this language. To learn a foreign language becomes difficult when you don’t find any one to speak with your practicing language. And it was the case with me when I started to learn English.
English was not a language to be learned in the madrassahs I have lived in. But when I was able to read and write in Urdu, I found for the first time that English is very necessary language to be learned. So one day, I went to the bazaar and bought a dictionary, some grammar and a few storybooks with Urdu translation and started my new journey from zero in 2001.
A Chinese wise man has said that to reach your goal just need a start. I started it and read and read and read and then write it to memorize.
Today, my English is not so good and there are numerous websites and sources to learn English in like www.englishclub.com, www.mylanguageexchange.com, BBC Learning English and others where you can learn so much but it is my first hand experience that read and write and listen as much as you can. Practice makes man perfect. Listen radio programmes of the language your practicing in and speak to some one who is fluent in it.
If you are learning Pashto or Urdu languages, then we can learn it with the help of each other.

Just four days of Jihad!

Tuesday, Feberuary 27, 2007
Iraq
Ramadi: 18 children killed in a bomb explosion in Stadium.
Afghanistan
Kabul: 17 civilan Afghans killed and more than five hurt in a suicide attack outside Bagram airbase. Three foreigners also killed in the attack.
Kandahar: A district Shura member killed by armed militants.
One civilian killed and several wounded in a suicide explosion. One police also killed in the attack.
Helmand: A woman and a chilled killed in firing between Nato-led ISAF forces and the Taliban fighters in Sangin district.

Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Iraq
A car bomb explosion killed 10 and injured seven Iraqis in the southern commercial district of Bayaa.
Afghanistan
Khost: Tow civilians injured in a suicide attack on police. Three police also suffered killing and injuries.
Pakistan
South Waziristan: Militants killed an Afghan clerk. Akhtar Usman, accusing him of ‘spying’ to U.S. forces. Officials said that Akhtar Usman was criticizing militancy.

Thursday, March 1, 2007
Iraq
Anabr: 80 militants killed in battle with security forces. Three police officers also killed.
Yathrib: Iraqi security forces discovered six bullet-riddled bodies.
Falluja: Five people died when a parked car bomb targeted a convoy of guests to a wedding party.
Tikrit: Gunmen shot and killed four Shiite students in a private car leaving Takrit University.
Afghanistan
Farah: Three civilians killed and 48, mostly laborers, wounded in a roadside bomb.
Khost: A shopkeeper beheaded by the armed insurgents declaring him a ‘spy’ to the foreign troops.
Pakistan

Friday, March 2, 2007
Iraq
Baghdad: A bomb exploded at a popular used-car lot in Sadr City killing 10 people and wounding 17.
Baquba: The bodies of 14 missing Iraqi police officers found.
Afghanistan
Helmand: The body of a kidnapped doctor, Addul Shakoor, of Ibne Seena NGO found. He was abducted some five days ago.
Laghman: Three drivers wounded in armed attack by the Taliban.
Kunar: 12 civilian Afghan laborers wounded in a mortar attack carried by the Taliban.
Pakistan
Multan: Three killed and 10 injured, including a judge in a bomb explosion.
The mullahs kidnapped and later beat a cameraman of AVT Khyber Pashto and warned about their anger against photography and filming.
And the fifth (Saturday, March 3, 2007) is started with:
Iraq
Youssuffia: Six Sunni men who had received death threats for meeting with local Shiites killed in execution-style slayings.
Baghdad: A roadside bomb wounded three Iraqi police and one civilian.
Afghanistan
Herat: Tow civilians killed and 16 others wounded in a remote controlled bomb explosion.

Letter Talks

1998 Lahore, Pakistan

I had just rented a room in a shabby low-cost hotel and was preparing to “enjoy” my first morning in the city that someone slipped a folded sheet of paper below the door. I was surprised to see the paper slipping, stared at it for some moments, and then opened the door to see who did slip it but found none. After closing the door, I picked the folded sheet and saw that it was a letter without any envelope. The letter was bearing only this address: “To Mr. Akhter”. I asked in all the rooms of the hotel if there was any Mr. Akhter and the response was “no”.

At the evening I kept it safe in my box without reading it and, after some days, forgot about it because I could not find any Mr. Akhter.

Today, after almost eight years, I was searching some old papers when I found the letter and read it. During reading the letter, I came to know that it was not only a letter but a complete story that talks itself in words. This is the story of the most women of our men-dominated and women-slaved society. And here is a translated version of the letter:

My dear sweetheart
I hope you are fine and I inform you that we are too no bad.
What happened? If you were not coming then why did you tell me that you would come tomorrow? What is the problem? Are you alright? I know that you get out of temper in a moment. They had told me that you were coming on Thursday but you did not come. Ok, behavior me as you like, I am not but a shoe for your foot, you can wear the shoe when you want and throw it away when you like. That is your right because you are a man.

You think why to come home if I spoil your temper, but my sweetheart! I can’t put up with the scene; I feel my life is ended. I feel I am snatched. If you leave me here how my days and nights will be passed? All the day I do nothing but weep. You don’t know, all my life passed thinking about you. I tried several times to control myself but I don’t know how to do it.

Dear Akhter! If I have got some love in my life that is from you. As a girl, my parents and brothers hated me and every time I tried to love someone he went far away from me.
Akhter, today I want to discuss something with you. When I wanted to discuss this with you face to face I saw your deep beautiful eyes and they made me scary. I don’t know why this happens to me. You are like a god for me but you never asked what my heart wanted. Every woman has desires in her heart and a man should not run away from this.

My dear sweetheart! I have so many desires in my heart. And now I want to tell you about them. I wish God listen the cries of my heart. I want to tell you that my greatest desire is to live with you. I have heard that if a man goes to his home tired and his wife welcomes him smiling and sits with him he forgets all the tiredness. When I hear this, I become angry at myself. Why am I deprived of this? It hurts when even a tiny desire like this is not fulfilled. So I began to curse myself.
I want to discuss some more things with you but every time you are in hurry. How will we tell our desires to each other? Now I wish may God bless me with a child. I wish this because I think I will be thus honored to live with you.
And there are talks of people. I am afraid of those cruel people. If some one said any thing badly about me I will be dead because I can’t talk and explain myself to any one.
The other day a neighbor girl said that if I did give birth to a son she will name him Ihteshan Akhter Ali. I liked this name.
My dear sweetheart! My desire from the first day is that I want to live with you, I want your support and I want to live by your hands. Rest assured I am nothing without you. I swear you, I say with my folded hands and I beg you to call me to Lahore with you. Think how can I live without you and without my parents?

Please forgive me for this letter because I am very compelled. Forgive me in my life otherwise I would be not able to bear this burden to the grave with me.

God bless you

Ashi
Only yours

Don’t forget that I will be waiting for you.

The Lead Story

The ‘jihad’ against Russians was over and war among factional warlords was on its peak. We were informed that due to the fighting between tow rival Islamic warlords we will be not able to go to jalalabad. So I went to Torkham to know about the situation.
I found the small bazaar of Torkham like it was a cemetery. The fighting was continued on Afghanistan part of the Shamshad hill. When I reached there I saw shops and hotels were closed and all people were looking enthrallingly at the Shamshad hill where seven fighters of the Islamic Hizb were hiding in a trench and their rival fighters were searching them bit by bit with fear on their faces. The hiding fighters were finished with ammunition and when they tried to flee back to Pakistani territory their opponents were clever enough to prevent them cross the border.
The opponents had shot their eighth comrade who was critically wounded laying just a few steps away from the bazaar crying for help. But none was going to help him. It was because we were in Pakistani part of the Torkham and they were fighting in the Afghanistan side. Between the tow countries was a big gate which was locked at the time. But the Shamshad was bigger one hundred times than the gate so we were seeing the fighters clearly.
Death was coming close to the seven fighters hiding in the trench as their opponents with their Kalashnikovs ready to shoot were carefully reached to upper part of the trench. People in Torkham were not breathing because they did not want to miss any second of this Death Game. They were watching the horrible scene like a horror film with extraordinary suspense.
Suddenly the armed opponents, undoubtedly Islamic like the others, jumped in front of the trench and there was nothing but blood and a heap of human flesh after thirty seconds. When the game was over, the victorious fighters went back waving their Kalashnikovs proudly and people in Torkham began to do their jobs.
I was deeply shocked and it was an awful experience for me. Who were the killed people? Why they did kill them? When the dead bodies will reach their homes how their mothers, daughters and wives will endure that? There were many questions but no answer. Then I thought I have to wait till tomorrow newspaper for the questions. Will the newspaper publish this story? I asked myself. Why not? It will be the lead story, I answered myself.
I went back where we were staying. It perplexed me all the day. In the night, every time I tried to sleep the story began again. Seven fighters in a trench and one lying on a big stone crying from wounds. Their opponents with loaded Kalashnikovs in their hands searching for them. Suddenly they know that their enemies are hidden in the trench. They jump and kill them in less than one minute. This horrible scene did not let me to sleep. In the dawn I tried for the last time to sleep but it was the worst. In dream, I went to a house where women and children were weeping loudly. When I entered the house I saw tow dead bodies still laying in their bloody clothes. An old lady was pulling her hair and beating herself. A man was trying to keep her in control but he was failed. I asked him who was she? He told me with tears in his eyes that the lady is mother of the tow brothers killed in Shamshad. I went near the dead bodies. Their faces were damaged mercilessly. Again I awakened with fear and fright.
After much waiting, I went to the nearest stall and got a copy of the newspaper. It was another shock and bad experience when I read the lead story. It was:
‘Sons of Rival Commanders Married for Second Time.’
‘According to details, wedding ceremonies of the sons of tow rival Afghan commanders, Engineer Hazrat Islam and Ustad Mohammad Islam, whose forces are fighting in many provinces, arranged on the same day (yesterday) because they are trying to defeat each other every time in every thing. This is second time that they are marrying. It is to be mentioned that each commander have already three wives.’