Saturday, September 24, 2016
Wednesday, August 24, 2016
Remembering you …
Dearest Sabeen
There are many things about you
that I recall every moment.
Here are some:
![]() |
| Nuzhat, Me, Ragni, Jehan Ara, Sabeen |
The Brilliant (YES!) Interactive Faiz CD - Aaj Kay Naam.
Your Authorware Programming was the best.
Nothing close to it has ever come out of Pakistan.
![]() |
| Sabeen & Her Nana |
Even the death of your wonderful Nana, who loved you so much,
didn't stop you from completing the CD on time.
You were always totally committed.
![]() |
| Sabeen at Apple's Office Garden |
I think so often of our trip to Apple on your 21st birthday.
![]() |
| Sabeen at my house fixing Macs. |
Our love of Apple and Macs
that led you to so many things including
being invited to the USA launch of the First iPhone.
![]() |
| Your Facebook quotes and conversations with friends. |
This was to Sara and there were many to other friends.
![]() |
| While this is to me (and I was not sure I can put it here) I did want to say this: |
While you called me your Mentor
(and many people still say I was)
it was what any older person would (should!) do
for someone much younger.
Then you grew up and I was no longer your Mentor.
YOU WERE MY MENTOR,
and now I have none!
![]() |
| Sabeen serving us food on her birthday |
I loved your unbelievable passion for everything you did!
![]() |
| Protesting about violence in Karachi |
You came with Nuzhat and me, at first,
to our early protest marches …
but moved on (wholeheartedly) to attend and protest
at gatherings that mourned the deaths of
Sunnis, Shias, Ahmadis, Christians, Hindus, and more.
![]() |
| At KPC after Awab, Sabeen, & I had a session on the banning of YouTube. |
This was a dangerous moment. I always remember
asking you to leave from the back door
because ghoondaas on trucks were
announcing our names and phone numbers
to get people to reach us and attack.
(While we left just before the crowd got to us,
Dr. Awab and Farieha Aziz were stuck inside
and had to be escorted out by the police much later.)
![]() |
| Sabeen looking at a tree planted by Yoko Ono. (Yoko's note on the tree is visible top right.) |
I often think of our wonderful day at MOMA
on our last trip together.
![]() |
| Sabeen with Fawzia Mirza at T2F. |
Whether someone met you for a very little while …
![]() |
| Sabeen & Marvi Mazhar |
or for a few years …
![]() |
| Ragni & Sabeen |
or maybe a little longer
(like an adopted Sis)
…
![]() |
| Sabeen, Mahenaz, Seema |
… or you had known all your life:
THEY ALL LOVED YOU LIKE CRAZY.
(And you loved them back!)
(And you loved them back!)
Rest in Power
•
I'll end with your lovely old poem
•
Sabeen Mahmud
30 November 2007 ·
enough!
i am tired.
tired of running
tired of the struggle
tired of arguing
tired of explaining
tired of the machinations of the rich tired of the mumbo jumbo
tired of the greedy
tired of the bored
tired of the dumb
tired of the petty
tired of waiting for another day tired of being polite
tired of corporate crime
tired of generals
tired of taxes
tired of banks
tired of coping
tired of the silence
tired of the battles
tired of the smug
tired of the manipulators
tired of being tired
tired of life
stop the world. i want to get off.
Monday, July 25, 2016
15 months …
You are remembered everywhere, Sab!
It was almost four years ago that you walked into my library and found me crying. The first thing you said, and rightly, was, "Are you thinking of your father?"
My father died in 1963 and I have cried about him often. Every time I saw a lovely film, read a wonderful book, heard a delightful song, got transported by a piece of classical music, listened to a remarkable performance of a Qavvaali, or found a superb shayr, I thought of him. And, very very often, I sobbed. It has been over half a century and this still happens to me.
You've been gone for 15 months and I cry just as often … for the same reasons that I listed for my father. I miss your friendship beyond belief. I miss your conversations, your humour, your laughter…
SaveSave
Tuesday, July 5, 2016
کاشف نصیر - صبین کے قتل پر
ایک اور آواز خاموش ہوئی
مصنف: کاشف نصیر
وقت: پیر، 27 اپریل 2015
آنکھوں میں چمک، چہرے پر امید سے لبریز تازگی، لب پر مسکراہٹ، لہجے میں اپنائیت اور دل پھیک انداز بیان، وہ جب بولتی تو سامع سننا چاہتا، وہ جب سنتی تو مقرر بولنا چاہتا۔ خاموش اور بامہر زبانوں کو جرأت اظہار اور قوت گویائی کی تقسیم گویا اسکی متعہ زندگی تھی اور اسی جرم کی پاداش میں خود اسکی اپنی زبان کو ہمیشہ ہمیشہ کے لئے خاموش کردیا گیا۔
صبین محمود اب اس دنیا میں نہیں ہے لیکن اس نے اپنی مختصر سی زندگی کو بھرپور، متحرک اور بےباک گزارا۔ کنیرڈ کالج لاہور سے گریجویشن کے بعد اس نے اپنے کیرئیر کا آغاز ایک ماہرِ ٹکنالوجی کے طور پر کیا۔ اپنے استاد اور رفیق زہیر قدوأی اور سافٹ ویر صنعت کی جہاں آراء کے ساتھ ملکر پاکستان میں پہلی بار ملٹی میڈیا سی ڈیز متعارف کرائیں جن میں فیض احمد فیض کے کلام پر مبنی سی ڈی آج بھی اپنی مثال آپ ہے۔
اسکے اندر ایک عجیب سی بے چینی تھی جیسے کوئی بپھرا سمندر اسکے وجود سے باہر نکلنے کے لئے بے تاب ہو۔ یہ بے تابی اسے کبھی سکون سے بیٹھنے نہیں دیتی تھی۔ 2007 میں جب پاکستان میں سوشل میڈیا نے سر اٹھایا تو جیسے اسکے ہاتھوں میں جنت کی کوئی کنجی لگ گئی ہو۔ بلاگرز اور آن لائن دانشوروں کو متحرک کرنے اور ایک دوسرے سے قریب لانے کے لئے اس نے لاتعداد کانفرنس، سمٹ اور میلے منعقد کروائے۔
وہ ایک سچی اور کھری لبرل دانشور تھی۔ اسکی ترقی پسند سوچ، مطالعہ، قوت برداشت اور رواداری اسے جعلی لبرلز سے نمایاں طور پر جدا کرتی تھیں۔ آپ اس سے ہر بات پر اختلاف کرسکتے تھے لیکن کسی بھی اختلافی نقطے پر اسکے چہرے کا رنگ نہیں بدلتا تھا۔ وہ نظریاتی رواداری کی قائل تھی اور ڈائیلاگ اسکا ہتھیار تھا۔ اگست 2012 میں اس نے ہند و پاک سوشل میڈیا سمٹ کا انعقاد کیا تو میں نے اس تقریب میں امریکی سفارت خانے کے کردار اور ایک مخصوص طبقے کو پاکستان کی واحد آواز کے طور پر پیش کرنے پر شدید تنقید کی۔ یہی تنقید آگے چل کر ہماری دوستی کا سبب بنی۔
اس نے معاشرے میں بلا خوف و خطر گفتگو کی روایت کو زندہ کرنے، تخلیق کاروں کو ذہنی بانجھ پن سے نکالنے، طلبہ و طالبات میں غیر نصابی کتب کا شوق پیدا کرنے اور عام لوگوں کو کھل کر زندگی جینے کا حوصلہ دینے کے لئے ایک گوشہ عافیت “ٹی ٹو ایف” قائم کیا تھا، جہاں گزشتہ آٹھ سالوں سے روزانہ کی بنیاد پر کوئی نہ کوئی تقریب ضرور منعقد ہوتی۔ کبھی شعر و ادب کی محفل برپا ہوتی تو کبھی لکھاری مل بیٹھتے، کبھی ساز اور سر کی لو چھیڑی جاتی تو کبھی مصوری کی نمائش اور مقابلے منعقد ہوتے اور کبھی محفل سماع سجتی۔
میری اس سے متعدد ملاقاتیں ہوئی اور اس نے کم و بیش ہر ملاقات میں اس اندیشے کا اظہار کیا کہ اسے دیکھا جارہا ہے، اسکی حرکات پر نظر رکھی جاتی ہیں اور اسے نشانہ بھی بنایا جاسکتا ہے۔ اسکا ہر دوست اسکے اندیشوں سے باخبر تھا۔
تین سال پہلے اسکی ویلانٹائن ڈے کمپین کے شدید ردعمل سے اور سال پہلے ٹی ٹو ایف پر خطرناک پارسل ارسال کرکے بھی اسے ہراساں کرنے کی کوشش کی گئی۔ یہی وجہ ہے کہ میرے نزدیک اسکے قتل کو صرف اور صرف بلوچستان اور ماما قدیر سے متعلق پروگرام کے تناظر میں دیکھنا درست نہیں ہے۔ اس میں کچھ شک نہیں ہے کہ اسکے گرد خطرات بہت تھے لیکن وہ کبھی خوفزدہ نہیں ہوئی یہاں تک کہ جس خوف کے حسار کو وہ توڑنے نکلی تھی اس میں خود الجھ کر بہادری و جوانمردی کا ایک عنوان بن گئی ہے۔ اسکی موت میں ان لوگوں کے لئے ایک پیغام ہے جو بولنا چاہتے ہیں، لکھنا چاہتے ہیں اور اپنی مرضی سے جینا چاہتے ہیں
Saturday, July 2, 2016
Leila
17-year-old Leila Rasul Khan, an A-Level student at KGS, is well worth a watch. Keep your eyes open: She's going to be a great dancer. And keep your ears open, too: She could be a well-known poet someday.
Leila is a student of Sheema Kermani — whom we all know is one of our great Dancers, Theatre-makers, Actress, and a Human Rights / Women's Rights supporter.
![]() |
| Sheema during an Interview |
When you see Leila's performances you can feel that she has put her heart right into it. Her facial expressions are just right, something I don't see in many young dancers here.
•••••
Leila is a poet, too.
I enjoyed the few that she sent me.
Hope she continues doing this.
Here are two.
She wrote this on today's times
Faith
Stand, bend, kneel, stand.
“Amma, why are we doing this?”
“Beta, this is something you must learn.”
“But why must I learn, Amma?”
“Beta, it is your Deen.”
“Deen, Amma?”
Your deen. Your faith. Your love. Your heart.
Stand, bend, kneel, stand.
“Did I do it right, Amma?
I think I’m getting the hang of this. ”
“Yes , well done. Don’t lose your focus.
You lose your focus, all this loses its meaning.”
Stand, bend, kneel, stand.
“Oh must I, Amma? I’m so tired now. ”
“I won’t ever force you, beta.
But there will come a time
When you realize that this was more important
“I’ll do it later.”
“I’m sure you will.”
Stand, bend, kneel, stand.
“Isn’t it rather poetic, Amma?
All of us millions, doing
The same thing, at the same time, on the same day.
How loud do you suppose it is,
When the same low murmur
Rises from every corner of the globe?”
“That is how He meant it, beta. ”
Stand, bend, kneel, stand.
Everything has changed now, Amma.
I wonder if I should teach this to my children
If this is something they should learn at all
The act of Deen has been twisted
Pushed, and pulled, and shoved
It has become an act of defiance
Exploding from the throats of the mad few
Into the lives of the many unfortunate
Nobody does it right anymore
They’ve lost their focus, Amma.
I have to do it later now,
Because in public, I am afraid.
It’s not poetic anymore, is it?
The low murmur
Seems to have changed
Seems to have devolved
Into a scream.
“Is this how He meant it, Amma?”
•••••
•••••
Here is one she wrote after Sabeen's Assassination
Gone
Immeasurable
The value of what she did for us all
Countless
The number of lives she touched
Thousands
The number of people she gave a voice, that she inspired , that she gave a belief that they too could change their world, just like her
Three hundred
The meagre cost of the invaluable enrichment a session at her little paradise would provide
Twenty-six
The number of times I had the honour of meeting her myself
Five
Little pieces of metal
One
Beautiful, blazing, blinding light
Gone.
•••••
The value of what she did for us all
Countless
The number of lives she touched
Thousands
The number of people she gave a voice, that she inspired , that she gave a belief that they too could change their world, just like her
Three hundred
The meagre cost of the invaluable enrichment a session at her little paradise would provide
Twenty-six
The number of times I had the honour of meeting her myself
Five
Little pieces of metal
One
Beautiful, blazing, blinding light
Gone.
•••••
Good luck, Leila!
Friday, June 24, 2016
Tuesday, June 21, 2016
Sabeen Kay Liyay - The poem is three languages
Labels:
Assassination,
English,
Extended Family,
Memories,
People,
Poem,
Roman,
Urdu
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)


























