KirrKet

How we inherited Cricket or KirrKet as some say. This is my version, so dont quote me on this.

When Lord Mountbatten was leaving to go back to Britian all the dignitaries came out to wave him good bye, right before he was about to step on the plane he came to see Mr Jinnah and Mr Nehru and handed them each a bat this is the conversation that was recorded by my great great grandfather who was a reporter for a magazine at the time and was covering the event.

Mountbatten: Well old chaps, my work here is done I say. The British have managed to make a nice ol mess here, lots of little pieces we have carved out of the sub continent and you guys can spend the next century or so sorting it all out. Do enjoy the cucumber sandwiches and yes before I forget here are my cricket bats. I prophesize that from this day forward, cricket fever will grip your nations. Anthems will be written to it and performed with lots of drama and action. Every child born hence will want to be a cricketer and make a century and every girls dream will be to get married to a man who knows his cricket (wink) So I am off now cheerios.

Mr Nehru: Haain, Mr Jinnah did you hear what he said, you think this will be our future, children and adults alike will be playing and loosing sleep over cricket. I was going to start my own Gooli danda ki team yaar. Waakoo kiyee kay gaya hai, aye angraiz. Hoon assi ki karan gay?

Mr Jinnah: Oh Nehru sahib dont worry about it too much Cricket is but a glorified version of Gooli danda. I think we will make it our national sport and encourage our youth to play this game and practice it more than they practice their calculus before an exam. Infact I will declare it a vacation when cricket world cups will be played so no child has to skip on sleep in order to study and watch the game. I am 100 percent sure... that these goraz took our gooli danda and made their cricket and now they are using it to create a more dramatic rift between our countries.

Mr Nehru: SAch kehnday ho tussi but Mr Jinnah I want Cricket to be our national game, we are a bigger nation we can produce more players what say you?

Mr Jinnah: hmmmm, well Mr Nehru, I say non of us make cricket the national game, however we promote it more than the national games hence it will be the psuedo national game for both the countries what say you?

Mr Nehru: Ahoo gee, good idea jee. I think we can make hockey the national game and we shall make Cricket the psuedo national game. Who can play hockey in our over crowded cities anyways, where will they play. For a game of cricket all one needs is a fairly empty street a couple of tennis balls, bats and some old chair for the wickets and...

Mr Jinnah: Enough speed to run away when the neighbours window breaks, or his hen dies due to being hit by the ball

Mr Nehru: Yes and we have to ensure that all the adults of a family are in the grip of the cricket fever every few months so lots of matches and tournaments have to be arranged, the uncles have to be in a thorougly bad mood if their teams loose, enough bad tempers have to flair so that the children quake in their shoes and the ladies of the house have to make extra effort for dinner.

Mr Jinnah: Yes my point exactly, we are both the fathers of such nations who are extremely passionate and emotional in their outlook. This can ofcourse be a great thing if they cultivate it in the right direction. I think they will leave the Spanish and Italian emotionalism at the door. They will stay up nights to watch a match even if they have work to go to in the mornings. They will skip school, not do house chores, lock up their crying babies all for the love of the game and for the PAssioan.... but this passioan will in no way be harnessed for the good of the country.

Mr Nehru: hahahaha you are quite funny Mr Jinnah. All nations need Heros and Heroins. As we are going to have a lot of them thanks to our Bollywood, I forsee us having beautiful young women who will be winning Ms World titles and ensuring the future of our industry. As you will not have that benefit you should have your heros from the sports industry

Mr Jinnah: You are right Mr Nehru, all nations need their Heros, America has their comic book heros, and ofcourse lots from Hollywood. As a lot cannot be expected of Lollywood I think we should uplift the Pathans and make sure they can be counted on as the future Hero providers for the Nations; waisay bhi they are a good looking bunch and this is a very important aspect of being a Hero.

Mr Nehr and Mr Jinnah together: Set hai phir, first cricket world cup shall be played in England. Jaldi naal Mountbatten nu telegram khaloo

The End, Dont kill me guys this was just a joke......

love your spirit and your passion for the game. Cricket wont be Cricket without it.

How I met your father

Hello daughter,

this is a post for you and only you. Today is the day your daddy was born.......

I want to relate to you, how I met your father. I am sure it was a day like any other day and being a 9 month old I had nothing better to do than look cute and pretty sitting in my bouncy chair because that is how I am cute and pretty and very very lazy.

It was that day when your daddy was bought to my grandfather's house. Everything was looking perfect when I noticed his feeding bottle. I was very intrigued so I went ahead and took it and when he cried I gave him a poke and than another and than another.

Days became weeks, weeks became months and months became years. Your daddy was nothing more than a speck on my playdates with your Hassan mamoo. He would come and ruin them playing chase, robbers and pirates and such dastardly games where I was left out.

It was around the time I was a teenager when Allah mian who runs a fantastic dating service, heavenly divine inc, stepped in and seeing the lack of action in both our lives introduced us all over again.

We became the best of friends and in time your mommy and daddy; so dear daughter, today is a very special day for us because today is the day your daddy and my best buddy came into this world. Today is the day, the guy who makes us feel ultra special each day was born.

Happy birthday to you husband :D

Are you capable....

I am fortunate to be born into a good family to have received education which has endowed me to work at great companies. I am fortunate to be speaking a language which has opened doors for me and allowed me to step out into the world. I am fortunate to have wonderful friends who speak my language and understand my culture, who are non-judgmental and care about me. Sometimes I wonder if I had been born in a broken down hut which was already over run with children. If the only person making money was not making enough to feed me, there was filth, mosquito and disease which greeted me each morning when I opened my eyes. I started my day with a stale piece of roti and murky water and that too if I was lucky and than would run out into the streets and I would see rich people in flashy cars going about their business. I would see cars parked next to swanky,hip restaurants throwing away half eaten food, what would I think. Would I be capable of robbing and killing some one at that time. Will I still have friends who are non-judgmental and helpful?

I wonder if it is circumstance which make a person or the person who makes the circumstances. I mean what if I was the one who had been a flood victim and I had to see my child dying slowly in front of my eyes what would I have felt than, If I had to make a choice and save my self or my child or have to choose which kid to save out of all my children, what would I do? What if the house I had spent my whole life building was the one which got washed away, every thing I owned drowned under vast amounts of water and mud. All my memories, all my life gone....

I think I am all these people, I am the poor kid who is starving. I am the flood victim who is in dieing, I am the child soldier who gets killed. I am the human that is smuggled. I am the baby who dies because of drinking unclean water...., you know why I am all these people? Because I share their DNA they are all a part of me and I a part of them because we all share the core of life.

I believe I am capable of making a difference in their lives because I will do what ever I can in what ever capacity to help and heal; what are you capable of?

Common thoughts by the commoner about the uncommon mango

I call the mango uncommon because in our part of the world it is known as the king of fruit. I had to do some research about mangoes hence I had to talk to my friends and family so I guess my whole article today is basically their thougts mingled with some of my own.

Any one who grew up in the subcontinent knows that summer is all about mangoes. Mango parties, eating them by the canals and specially eating them during the monsoon rains getting soaked. I still dream about biting into the luscious silky soft flesh and tasting the sweet sweet nectar. I have searched high and low for mango varieties from Pakistan here but have always been disappointed. The mexican mango does not quite compare to the more flavorful and sweet Pakistani variety.

I personally believe the right way to eat a mango starts with buying the right mango. For that one needs to go to the big farmers markets and haggle with the farmers. Once the right price has been negotiated the big carats are loaded into the back of the car and bought home, where the mangoes are packed with ice in steel buckets. Ideally every one would plan and all our extended family would pile into cars sitting one on top of the other and head to the Lahore Canal, where we would sit by the banks with our feet dangling into the cool flowing water. The men usually would jump right into the cold waters and start splashing every one whilst the women out of modest requirement sat under the pepal and safayeda trees with their shalwars hitched up. Each one would be issued a mango and we would progress to soften the flesh by kneeding it with our hands and than bite off the top and suck everything out. I can still taste the yummy goey deliciousness. The slight tang of the fruit, the juice would drip down the mouth and at the end we would all have yellow beards and sticky hands.

The next ideal method of eating Aam (mango) was to enjoy it during the torrential monsoons. All of us would come out with all our clothes on and bathe in the cool showers while mom would hand us the mangoes which we would relish. Monsoons, have a kind of magic associated to them in my mind I used to think it was something every country in the world experienced so when I moved to the USA I was quite disappointed for there was no intense heat where I lived and no cool monsoon.

However back to the subject of Mangoes, I think there is only one method of eating a mango which is sucking it but others seem to disagree. They say eating a mango is dependent on the type of mango, if its a tapka you suck it. Anwar Ratols can also be sucked. But langra, doosairi, sindhri are to be cut up and eaten. Some people enjoy cutting the fruit in half and scooping out the flesh, while others just cut it up into flanks with the skins on and eat the fruit off the skin. While still some would go to the trouble of removing all the skin and chopping it into small peices and eating it with a fork. This latter method is employed by people who have little love for the fruit and too much show shaw. Lahori's will tell you that when it comes to the mango one has to just hitch up ones sleeves and dig in, minimum hassle= maximum reward.

Mango seasons also result in mango parties, which have mango ice creams, buckets and buckets of mango fruit and little else. In such times kids are found running around in under wears to minimize sticky clothes. I remember the mango parties we had at our place back home, one in particulat was some ones birthday and all my uncles and aunts were wearing comical hats as they sucked and chewed on delicious, juicy juicy mangoes. The juice dripped over their hands and would make puddles on their plates if they were lucky to be carrying some or on the floor.

I feel my life in Pakistan was entwined with mangoes a lot of my childhood memories revolve around it, perhaps because it was in season during the summer when school was out. My my grandfather had mango trees in his garden and we would go and climb and collect the kachi ambiz (unripe mangoes) eat it with lots of salt and red chillies the sour flavor would make our mouths pucker but we wont let up until we had soar throats and ended up with a hoarse voice.

During the mango season mom would make achar in big clay martabans and we would have kachi keri ke chutni with missi ki roti and sometimes with aloo parathas also. My aunt would make methi aam ki chutney which we would enjoy with daals and parathas. I can still smell the unriped mangoes while mom pounded it with green chilies and salt to make the chutney the heady smell would waft on the sluggish hot breeze though the veranda as the mortar and prestel would go thud, thak , thud thak......

Concordia took a chance on me

Dear Concordia,

I have recently completed my undergraduate degree in Biology from Concordia University, and I would like to relate to you some of my experiences at Concordia. I came to the university in January 2004 as an international student; my biggest shock upon landing in Canada was the massive amounts of snow and the cold cold weather here. Upon arrival I stayed at the Hingston Hall dorms and loved the experience. First of all it helped me to make friends which helped a lot with keeping my homesickness at bay plus my friends helped me to understand and navigate the metro and introduced me to the social scene in Montreal. Next I had to look for a part time job; in this endeavor I was helped by the international students office; so I started to work at the bookstore and as a stock keeper in the labs. In the summer I had the opportunity to work in the residence again as the housekeeping staff because the residence is converted to cheap housing for tourists. During my stay in Montreal due to circumstances beyond my control I was unable to go to see my family and since I came to the city I was unable to go back home but I have to say that Montreal and specially the Concordia community has a way of making you feel like family, the international students office folks were very helpful all along. I suffered from a bout of clinical depression and i got a lot of help from the councelling and development and the heath departments at Concordia. I was encouraged and started to go running with one of the nurses Donna at Loyola campus and my councellor Noreen helped me sooo much that I cannot even begin to express my thanks to her. I was able to come out of my depression and be a happier person and though my grades have been all over the place and I even got failed out of university. I want to say thanks to Concordia for not giving up on me and giving me a second chance. Thanks to all the proffessors in my department who have worked hard to make our university experience a lot of fun and helping us to learn new and intersting things. I had the chance to work with the clients at the centre for the arts in human development at Concordia and I was inspired by their enthusiasm and grit, it helped me to stay in university. It is an excellent effort on the universities part and helps not only the clients who come and learn the arts but also volunteers like us who work with them on many levels. The other initiative I greatly admire, taken by the university is the Sustainable Developement program in place, it has done a lot to educate students and faculty alike and is helping to transform the policies at the university for a better and more sustainable future for all of us to enjoy.

It is easy to take the creme de la creme of the student lot from high schools and Cgeps and than expect them to do well, as is the case in a lot of universities in Canada and around the world, its a whole different ball game to give a chance to students who are not neccessarily doing exeedingly well in schools. I was always a good student even when I came to Concordia as a transfer student my gpa in my college in the USA was a 3.98 but having to live here on my own for a long time, having to deal with the weather and isolation and being tight on money was very tough for me and hats off to Concordia for understanding that and giving me so many chances and letting me stay and finish my degree.Which i finally did this semester [fall 2008] and I am all set to graduate in the summer of 2009.

Once again i would like to extend my thanks to every one at the International Students office, at the Councellling and Development centre, at the Health Centre, all the faculty and advisors in the Biology Department and the Concordia open door policy for giving every one a fighting chance and not just one chance but in some cases such as my own numerous chances. Now I feel motivated to go and do a graduate degree in a couple of years, to think that at one point in my life I was not even sure I would have an undergraduate degree it is a very big achievement for me and I can not thank Concordia university enough for believing in me.

Thanks Concordia!! I love you

Sincerely,

Fatima Shah

student id #5311748.

My brother my hero

My brother was 2 when he had an accident which caused him to undergo major brain surgery. As a result of which part of his brains frontal lobe had to be removed. This left him in a coma for a month and the doctors told us his chances of survival were minimal at best. If he did survive he ll probably be on a bed unable to do anything for the rest of his life.
He proved them wrong, with my mom exercising him and taking him and doing whatever she could in her capacity, he was able to not only move again but also regain all his functions and now functions as normally as can be expected of some one who underwent major brain surgery 5 time in total to date. He has seizures and is retarded, doctors tell us that mentally he is like a 7 year old. Although he is a goofy, lovable funny 23 year old.
I find it amazing that after going through all that he has been through in his life, he is a very upbeat and gregarious individual. He loves music and laughter and has a lot more empathy than I could imagine. When he found out he was an uncle he sent his favorite toy for his neice.
When we were young, I d get into scraps with other folks who d make fun of him and at times I was embarrassed of my brother. It took me a while to realize that he has a way of making himself heard and loved. In time, the folks who made fun of him became his best buds.
There have been times when I have wanted to protect him, protect him from people and at times from himself too. I guess I have come to accept the fact that what is cannot be changed. He just wants to be accepted for who he is and loved like every one else does. So here is to you my dear wonderful brother, here is to your generous heart. Your big laugh and your goofy jokes. Thank you for being you; for helping me be more empathetic and be able to look deeper than the surface.

Where is Humanity?

The events which took place in a village near Sialkot moved me to tears of frustration and anger. Nowadays the newspapers are full of violence all over the world. Murder, mayhem, hunger, rape and hate.

Today while praying I just felt soo hopeless and helpless and I asked Allah where are you? why are you not helping the helpless and I screamed at him to tell me where he was and than I heard a voice in my heart which said to me. It was not his duty to help and protect us, it was our own duty to protect the defenseless. It was our duty to do help the helpless and the feeble and the weak.

Yes, we all question what can we do in such reckless times, when Humanity seems to have died. I guess the answer is that yes we cannot change the world but we can change our selves give a little bit of our time and energy to do good. Every small thing helps. Mothers can raise their kids to be better more thoughtful individuals. WE can volunteer our time with organizations if not money. Just pull along and do a little bit, because every little bit helps

Where is our Humanity?

A ricochet Bullet at the corner

Pierced through is ribs,

went through the mothers heart.

Blood splewed everywhere

They came in droves

to break their bones,

Broken limbs,

fractured skulls

Brains frying on the side walk

She was left looking at their pictures flashing on the screen,

What was she to do to protect her babies...

Killing, Murder, blood...

Is this the solution ?

Where is our humanity?

In such reckless times

Death seems like a bliss.