Posttraumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD)

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This is a counter narrative of self proclaimed PTSD

کہا تھا تجھ سے کر جہت مسلسل

یہ وعدہ وفا کہاں حق ٹھرا تھا

تو کیا تیرے دکھ کا بیان کیا

تیرا کم علم ہی فرق ٹھرا تھا

تو ابھی طفل مکتب بھی نہیں

حیراں ہوں یہ کیا عشق ٹھرا تھا

شاید طبیب کا روزگار اور بڑھے 

کہ مریض کا رنگ فق ٹھرا تھا

شاہد لب کشائی کی اوقات کیلئے 

غیرت و خود داری سبق ٹھرا تھا

Posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD) is a psychiatric disorder that may occur in people who have experienced or witnessed a traumatic event such as a natural disaster, a serious accident, a terrorist act, war/combat, or rape or who have been threatened with death, sexual violence or serious injury.

People with PTSD have intense, disturbing thoughts and feelings related to their experience that last long after the traumatic event has ended. They may relive the event through flashbacks or nightmares; they may feel sadness, fear or anger; and they may feel detached or estranged from other people. People with PTSD may avoid situations or people that remind them of the traumatic event, and they may have strong negative reactions to something as ordinary as a loud noise or an accidental touch.

(Courtesy: https://www.psychiatry.org/patients-families/ptsd/what-is-ptsd)

First Eid without father

This was first Eid of Aaliya without father. Her father was died some 6 months ago apparently due to COVID-19. Being Muslim she believes in the fact that every soul shall have a taste of death but she was not expecting that her father will leave her this early. She still can’t get used to the fact that he is no more. It is hard to believe. Every single message beep and call on the phone gave her illusion as if it is from her beloved Abbu. Many times she often gets lost in time and space. She thought of picking her mobile phone and calling father’s number as usual course of business and then stopped doing in midst of nostalgia and realism.

The time settles each wound but the pain and suffering of losing one’s father is not curable. Will it be anything in this world to pacify this restlessness? Remembrance of father haunts her every day. While Eid was a time of joy and happiness, it was also one of immeasurable sadness for Aaliya who was recalling happy occasions with father who is no longer available. She tried her best to keep her grief & sorrow unnoticed but failed to hide on this day of Eid. Jamal and children might have read facial expressions of Aaliya but yet they were not aware of this whole new world of anguish and unhappiness. This can only be understood by whom who lost his/her father. It can only be experienced and can’t be explained.

Aaliya recalled the memories of her father…Ramadan days, Sehr-o-iftar, spending time in prayers and zikr, going to bazaar with him for eid shopping, supporting Ammi in Eid preparation, cleaning of house, testing Ammi’s cooked eid servings and passing joint declarations on quality and taste, getting eidi, meet up with family & friends, watching Eid shows and movies together…indulging in countless recollection of past events is a frequent happening.

Lost as she may seem to be in her routine work, can’t forget what she owes to her father. She was possessive about her memories of the father who gave her all that she possesses in life. She started thinking of how to pay off his father? And then she started dreaming of making his dream come true. For that she must keep going and this Eid along with her all rich memories reinforce to bring that all happiness for her family, which her father laboured all his life.

She thought of everyone spending Eid without loved one and struggling to cope today. Somewhere she got to know that she is not alone. She explored the idea of sharing happiness and cheerfulness for others…love and warmth to everyone who came along her way…She started believing that her sharing of bliss have a value for her departed father and somewhere around her he is watching her to distribute life to others…it’s like watering plants in your garden and realizing them blooming and flourishing leaf by leaf…rejuvenated idea of life.

Dear father! Your loss! Oh! A big difference to me!

(My father-in-law was died last year on 13-October-2020 and this was my wife’s first Eid without her father)  

Chand

 سنا ہے چاند نکل آیا ہے آسماں میں

 چلو کچھ تو امید وفا کا صلہ دیں

 لو پھر امید ہو چلی ہے روشنی کی

 آو ہم ظلمت شب کے شکوے مٹا دیں

 جو آئے آنکھ میں آنسو خوشی کا ہو

 بچھڑے ہوئے اپنوں کو یوں ملا دیں

 پھر ہو گا منور میرا آنگن چاندنی سے

 اس خبر پہ شام کے دئیے بجھا دیں

 تیرے کھوئے وجود کو پا کر یوں

 اس بار بھی کھونے کے غم بھلا دیں

 زندگ تیرے ملنے بچھڑنے سے عبارت ہے

 شاہد ان اندھیروں اجالوں کو عادت بنا دیں

Tere Baghair

 تیرے بغیر

Poetry for my beloved wife

یوں گزر رہے ہیں 

تیرے بغیر رات کے پل

جیسے اندھیروں میں 

طاق کا دیا جائے جل

خود کلامی میں میں یہ کہوں

اے دل ان کی یاد سے بہل

خامشی نے شب کی پوچھا ہے

کب آو گی تم ہو گی چہل

کب جائے گی رت خزاں کی

آئے گی بہار کی فصل

کر کے وعدے ملاقاتوں کے

کبھی تو ہو تنہائی میں مخل

صبح کا سپیدہ یہ بولے گا

ہوا ہے کیسے ارمانوں کا قتل

جو نہ آئے تم اس بار بھی

کریں گے تیری یاد سے وصل

وفا کے بدلے یوں جفا دے کر

کب تک کرو گے تم ایسے عدل

تم جو چاہو یہ آسماں کے تارے

دکھا دیں گے راستہ آ ہم سے مل

شاہد یقیں ہے ہمیں جنوں یہ ہمارا 

کر دے گا کبھی ہماری قسمت بدل

Banam Kashmir

ہر کسی کی راہ میں انگارے نہیں ہوتے
سب لوگ یہاں غم کے مارے نہیں ہوتے
ہر شب کی جواہش ہے جگمگانے کی
ہر رات کی قسمت میں ستارے نہیں ہوتے
کہنے لگی ہے وادی کی ہر بیٹی صبح و شام
بزدل یہاں کسی کے سہارے نہیں ہوتے کوئی ہے جو ان آنسوؤں کو مول لے گا
اشک خون آرزو کے استعارے نہیں ہوتے
مقفل تھے جو لوگ وہ یہ سمجھ گئے
روزن زنداں سے امید کے اجالے نہیں ہوتے
عزت نفس، آبرو، تکریم، ناموس و ارجمند
کیا مظلوموں کو یہ وصف پیارے نہیں ہوتے تاریک سیاہ رات کے بعد صبح آزادی ہے
خزاں کے بعد موسم بہار آنے نہیں ہوتے
شاہد تیری ہر ایک جہد پہ خالق کی نظر ہے
شہداء کے خون سے انقلاب فسانے نہیں ہوتے (First two shear are from anonymous poet, rest of the poem is written by me)

Baa, Baa, Black Sheep

We went to Shadi wala ghar where family's girls/females were singing traditional shadi songs. My 2.5 year old son interrupted and shouted...No! Don't sing this song...only sing "Baba Black Sheep"...Rest is history...Lately people experienced first ever baba black sheep dholki version on Shadi occasion.

Baa, baa, black sheep,
Have you any wool?
Yes, sir, yes, sir,
Three bags full;
One for the master,
And one for the dame,
And one for the little boy
Who lives down the lane

Koucha-e-janaan mie ajab masti hai

Fart-e-heerat hoon ki tere dard ne

Kitaboon mie likha lafzoon ka kaha suna hi nahin

Shahid o hamraaz thaey jo tere dil ke

Unhien tu ne apna samjha hi nahin

Kis se karte biyan dard ki shidat

Samaey hai jo aisa ki samjha hi nahin

Ho chuka qutal jub mere zaat ka

Ab kya karien ge gawah jub mudda hi nahin

Youn tu dasht mi tha samandar dekhta

Bus naseeb mie tha pani hi nahin

Mehfil mie yaar ki sub kuch tu hai

Kya howa faqat jo pehlu hi nahin

Koucha-e-janaan mie ajab masti hai

Bikney ko hoon tayar gahak hi nahin

Pathar bhi hota tu moum ho jata

Tere takallum mie halawat hi nahin

Pathar jo parey mujh ko phol hi lagey

Majnoon hoon nae dhaab ka ashiq hi nahin

Lahu aya hai mere ankhon se ashk nahin

Shahid kyoun ho koi jub aarzoo hi nahin
 

Note:

After a very long time I managed to break a writer's block. This blog is based on friend’s facebook status which reads in urdu as:

ﻧﮧ ﻟﻔﻈﻮﮞ ﮐﺎ ﻟﮩﻮ ﻧﮑﻠﺘﺎ ﮨﮯ ﻧﮧ ﮐﺘﺎﺑﯿﮟ ﺑﻮﻝ ﭘﺎﺗﯽ ﮨﯿﮟ
ﻣﯿﺮﮮ ﺩﺭﺩ ﮐﮯ ﺩﻭ ﮔﻮﺍﮦ ﺗﮭﮯ ﺩﻭﻧﻮﮞ ﮨﯽ ﺑﮯ ﺯﺑﺎﮞ ﻧﮑﻠﮯ