For Lahore, With Love

Amjad Nawaz is a business graduate. He runs his own company which imports interior furnishing products with offices in Lahore and Islamabad. His work takes him to different countries and helps his passion of photography.He currently resides in Lahore. He can be reached at; 

Instagram: @UnmadeRhyme 

Twitter: @UnmadeRhyme

While most of the people are busy clicking beautiful pictures of Lahore for money, he does it because he loves Lahore. Let's see what story he has to tell.

I was neither born here in Pakistan nor am I a Pakistani national but I've always wanted to live here. I cannot exactly put into words why I feel so for this place but there's a hearty connection that I bear with this place.

Back in the O Level days, when I joined the family business, my father and I used to have conversations regarding where in the world I would like to settle.

My father always wanted me to move to China where his business is based, so that I could help him with chores. I somehow always avoided this answering this question but one day when he particularly asked me, 

'Dunya ka konsa mulk choose karo gay rehnay ke liyay?'

(Which country in the world would you choose to live in?)

I then decided, it was time for him to know what my mind beholds. I then told him,

'Mulk chorain mein tou Lahore na choru'

(You talk about leaving the country, I dont want to leave this city, Lahore)

For me, settling abroad was always an easy task. I could've chosen any place in the world. Kuwait, where most of my father's customers are settled or Thailand, of where I hold a nationality or China where my father is settled or anywhere else in the world where I liked. But I chose Pakistan and Lahore to be specific

.

Frankly, I've only spent 10 years of my life here. I've lived in Bangkok, Jakarta and Rawalpindi but to be honest Lahore is definitely the best.

I dedicate this piece of writing to my father because up-til now I haven't been able to convince him for why I wanted to live in Lahore so here's something I would like to say, 'Dad I know I've never been able to explain to you why I want to live here and I know I shall never even be able to do so but it's like when I set foot in this city, and just walking down the street, it is like roots, like its my motherland. I know I belong here and I have an affection for this place. Excuse me for being disobedient.'

And to each and everyone of you who is reading this, I'm not sure if you found this story interesting or you label me as a fool for not leaving when I could have easily done but for once and for all I would only say,

'Chahe kuch bhi hou meine Lahore nahi chorna'

(No matter what happens I will never leave this city)


So here are a few of the amazing pictures by him.

Liberty Roundabout, Lahore.

Poetry on a truck in Lahore which says:
How cruel are the people of your city; They murder first and then ask whose funeral is it?

Night Photography. Location: Lahore.

A long exposure shot of the area around Liberty market.

A long exposure shot of the Liberty Roundabout, Lahore.

Thank You for stopping by :)

Dear Diary, the Lyari gang war doesn't scare me anymore

This article was originally published here.

Day 1

Dear Diary,

Today, I was awakened to the thundering noise of gun fires and frequent gapped blasts once again.

Despite the fact that this is something very normal for us, the people living in Lyari, I still get scared. These horrific noises still send shivers down my spine and my heart sinks with ever boom. Every time I hear a gunfire shot, I wonder who has been slaughtered in this meaningless gang war going on.

Last night, an unknown bullet struck Sara’s father, our neighbour, and he died instantly. I could hear the poor girl screaming and wailing over the loss of her father. He was not just the only bread winner of his own family but also took care of six helpless sisters and an invalid brother.

Sara’s poor old grandmother kept cursing the ruthless and heartless culprits for displaying such barbarity. This incident has frightened me even more. I’ve been clinging to Baba since then. I haven’t let him step out of the house even once. I fear I might lose him if I let him do so and that adds on to my agony.

Now it’s time to sleep. I’ll get back to you tomorrow.

Yours,

Tania

 Day 2

Dear Diary,

Today was one of the best and worst days of my existence.

It was the worst because the bullets went sweeping past the windows, the gaps between those blasts became less frequent and the hurried movements of the gunmen shook the earth, the core of the neighbourhood trembled and the air echoed with gunfire.

I have never felt more horrified. My heartbeat increased so fast that I thought my heart would break through my ribs and come out. I began weeping. I felt worse than a war captive.

But you know what the best part was?

Today Baba finally decided that he cannot live in this warzone anymore! We’re finally moving to another place, a more peaceful neighbourhood. I can’t even begin to tell you how happy I am.

I might not be able to talk to you as often since from tomorrow onwards, we begin hunting for our new home.

Good Night.

Lots of love,

Tania

Day 10

Dear Diary,

Eight days have passed since I last wrote to you.

Today I want to tell you everything that happened in these last few days but I am blank. Completely expressionless. I have fallen short of words. I want to cry but my eyes have dried up. I want to scream but a lump is struck in my throat.

You must be wondering where I was, right?

Maybe I was busy with the house hunt? Or maybe shifting?

No, I wasn’t busy because of either reason.

I was busy because of the guests that had been coming and going back and forth.

I was busy helping my family survive this crisis.

I was busy because I’m supposed to be a survivor.

I was busy because Baba died.

Yes, my father who meant the world to me died. Baba died. And with him died everything; my fear, my anxiety, my hopes, my dreams and everything else. I died with him. The gunfire doesn’t scare me anymore.

You must be wondering what happened to Baba, right?

The same thing that happened to Sara’s father; he was hit in the head by a stray bullet and died instantly.

Remember I told you I didn’t let him step out of the house?

I didn’t display an inch of leniency. So, he stepped out of the house at dawn, while I was still asleep, to get bread and butter for breakfast. Before stepping out, he told my mother,

“Let me get it done before Tania wakes up or else she’ll keep clinging to my sleeves and won’t let me step out.”

I don’t want to live anymore. I feel like my world is empty without him.

What good did this gang war do to us?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

The government could have prevented the loss of so many valuable human lives but what did they do?

Again nothing. Oh wait, they did do something.

They ‘condemned’ it. Why don’t they realise that condemning is something they should leave to us, the ordinary people, and instead they should take some action so that no more Saras and Tanias lose their fathers. Giving us a huge sum of money doesn’t replace the affection and love of our father.

I dont want their dirty money.

I just want my Baba back!!

Can their ‘condemning’ the attack bring Baba back?

No!

They have to realise that this is the time to do something and they need to take some positive steps. They have to. Because if they don’t, soon enough, there may be no one left to save.

Yours,

Tania

Malala Yousafzai, a representative of Pakistan?

Yesterday was yet another big day in the history of Pakistan when a Pakistani citizen, Malala Yousafzai got a chance to address the UN assembly. (Malala Yousafzai was a BBC blogger and an activist of women's right to education. She was supposedly shot by a Taliban gunman on 9 October 2012 as she rode home on a bus after taking an exam in Pakistan’s Swat Valley). As a Pakistani I was pretty excited to see a fellow Pakistani addressing the great UN assembly. I was comfortably seated on my living room couch before the news channels began broadcasting the speech. Malala was dressed as a typical Pakistani girl in light pink shalwar kameez with a matching head scarf and had loosely wrapped a white shawl around her shoulders. Malala’s attire pleased me more than a little and I wished that her speech too pleases me. I paid thorough attention to each and every word she uttered but my hopes were turned into sheer disappointment by the time she finished her address.

I was disappointed in Malala for telling the BIG LIE to the world that there is a country called Pakistan where if a girl goes to school she is shot in the head not just a few girls in a specific region, but ALL GIRLS. I am disappointed in Malala for reinforcing the prejudiced image in the minds of civilized world that Muslims and especially Pakistanis are barbaric and women are treated as cattle. I am disappointed in Malala for so faithfully serving the Jewish controlled media which is giving you unprecedented coverage and persuading world's most prestigious organizations to shower you with honors

I wonder why Malala forgot to mention so many women from Pakistan who have won laurels for the country. Why did she not mention Sharmeen Obaid Chinoy who won an Oscar award for her documentary, ‘Saving face’? Why did she not mention Naseem Hameed a Pakistani athlete, who became the fastest woman in South Asia when she won a gold medal in the 100-metre event of the 11th South Asian Federation Games? Why did she not mention Sana Mir, the captain of Pakistan’s Women Cricket Team? Why did not mention Badam Zari of the Tribal Areas who had the guts to contest in the elections from an area where women are not allowed to vote let alone contest?  Why?

Only if she had known, it was a golden chance of clear the negative image of Pakistan and put ahead of the world a brighter and much more peaceful picture of the country.

As a matter of fact it’s all over again. Benazir’s 'Jamhuriat kay lyay qurbani' is now Malala’s 'taleem kay lyay qurbani'. That’s how the propaganda machines work. Getting shot at is not an achievement. We don't even know the name of the school teacher who escaped the burning vehicle and then came back and died trying to save the children. We don't know the name of the 23 year old girl who stood in front of an Israeli bulldozer and got run over. We don't know the names of these heroes because they don't serve the purpose of the people who own the global propaganda machine. 'It is easier to fool people than convince them that they have been fooled’.

Read Malala’s speech here: http://www.ibtimes.com/malala-yousafzais-speech-un-full-text-1344117

NOTE: This article is purely based on personal opinion and has no intentions of imposing personal views on anyone else.