NORTH CYPRUS ON FOOT

I run and run, jog and jog and walk and walk. It has never been important for me if i run or jog or walk. Whatever it may be, i like it. The movement, and that is it.

For years i am walking, sometimes less , sometimes for long period of times. With the passage of time, i developed a liking for going out for long distances. I started going to a place called BOĞAZ, which is at a distance of about 10km from my city Lefkoşa (pronounced as Lefkosha). It is a straight broad road, which starts from Lefkoşa and goes to the port city of Girne (Kyrenia),passing through high mountains. Girne is about 20km from my house.

Mostly on sundays , whenever i managed to get time to walk, i started running/walking from Lefkoşa to Boğaz. The stretch of going and returning used to take around 3 to 4 hours. I liked walking that way. The natural beauty attracted me. 

Then one day i thought that if instead of returning back home from Boğaz, i keep on moving ahead, i would be reaching Girne (20 km). The idea fascinated me. I started off for it. It required quite terrible climbing also, as the road pass through narrow gauges. I started going off for Girne in the evening of saturdays around 5pm, reaching Girne at around 8pm. The nephew of my wife lives in Girne. I started staying at their place for night and started returning the next (sunday) morning to join my family at the sunday breakfast. This practice continued for a couple of years, with gaps, since mostly this could have been done only during summer, when the days are long .

However, over a period of time, i started thinking of walking to some other places to. But where? That was the main question. 

However, the vital point of going out for long distances is to manage the food, rest and returning home back. This aspect appear too difficult as compared to the act of running/walking. Someone must pick me up from the point where i finish my walk at the end of the day, and must be able to retake me back to the same point the next time to let me start the long run again. Providing water and food at various points is always a problem. My wife is very helpful in such cases, but it is not always preferable to engage her in such at the expense of personal and family engagements. 

So what should i do, if i want to go out for longer distances.?

With the passage of time, the idea further developed into my mind, and i started thinking of covering the whole Northern Cyprus on foot. 

To some the idea may seem too impractical. But too me, it is easy. I always believe that in such expeditions what is needed the most is strong will power. I always consider fitness as 30% and remaining 70% as will power. Once one commits himself/herself to such a goal, half of the problem stands solved instantly. This is what i believe.

Although i still have got to finalise the details of how would i be able to walk through the whole northern cyprus, however, yesterday (29th April 2012), i decided to put myself through the first challenge. To Test Myself. The longest stretch of my run/walk had been 25km. This time i decided to put my legs to a bit harder test. I decided to go for a 35km run/walk.

A family friend of ours live in a village named PAŞAKÖY (pronhounced as PASHAKOY...meaning the village of the General). I decided to go there by foot. The point of returning back home was kept open. I had thought that it would depend on my physical condition. If bad, i would be asking my friend to drop me back home, if not i would try to return on foot. But i remained undecided on this issue till the last.

So as the day arrived, i started off at around 6.30am.  I had taken a light early breakfast, but had taken two packets of biscuits and one small cake piece, alongwith a half litre water filled bottle.  I was happy to see that the weather was cloudy. "It is doing to be a good day for running", i said to myself. I started jogging. I continued on the same road which take me to my workplace. From the round about of the Çangar motors i turned left and reached the main highway which links Lefkoşa to the port city of  Gazi Mağusa (Famagusta). 

Although the clouds were there, but the sun had started showing its presence, as i was heading east, facing the sun. 

It was an easy run. There was very little traffic on the road. I was enjoying running at my usual slow space on the highway. It started becoming a bit hot while i reached the round about of Hamitköy. I estimated, i had perhaps crossed first 5km. 

The next point was going to be Haspolat. A small industrial area, which has got the University opposite to it, on the left side of the highway. I was no more running. Just walking. Enjoying the walk. I walked passed Haspolat at around 8 am. 

The next point was going to be the bridge, from where i was going to take a right turn, to go towards the Ercan airport. I decided to take first rest for a couple of minutes. I drank some water from my bottle. But i was not supposed to waste the time . The sun was fast rising up. It was getting hot. There was no other option for me but to move ahead fast. I sat off. 

The newly built road leading to the Ercan Airport is the one that i always wanted to run on. The time had come. I started running. I was enjoying. The sun was shining, i was running with the bottle in one hand and the packets of the biscuits in the other. I was running, singing. Easy going. Metres after metres were passing by. 

But the road was too long. After a couple of kilometres i was walking. Still enjoying. I was not feeling any tiredness. Just moving ahead and ahead and ahead. I had started listening the signals of tiredness coming from my legs, as i was reaching the 20km mark. I understood the feeling, as that was the maximum distance to which my legs had been taken me till then. But now they were supposed to take me much too far. The real test of endurance had just started. I had had 15 more kilometres to go. I told my legs that it was the time for which i had been training them for. 

As i reached the round about of the Ercan Airport, i decided to give myself  an another break. I sat on the grass, took off my goggles, hat, shoes and socks. I ate the small cake piece and drank some water. I wanted somebody to take my photos, but could not find anybody. I took some photos myself.

which one is more tired?

my legs or shoes?

I looked at my watch. The time was 10.30am. 4 hours had passed. I was on the road. It had started to be really hot. I was not supposed to waste any more time. There was no other option but to move. I don my shoes, put on my goggles and hat. The long long road towards Paşaköy was waiting for me.

It was a single road, so i had had to be careful walking. There were hip high brown wild grass on both the sides of the road. There were trees too, but their shades were not extending up to the road. I had had to bear the heat. 

I kept on going ahead, sometimes running just to change my mood, but mostly walking. Tractors, some cars crossed me from both the sides. I had had to go, so i continued. It was terribly hot. 

Gaziköy was the next village at a distance of about 12km from Ercan airport. I was too happy as i entered the village, because i did know that Paşalöy village is not much too far then. I crossed through the village in a very pleasant mood, although the weather was quite too hot. There was very little water left in my bottle. I wanted to buy a bottle of water from some market, but the only market that i found out on the main road, was closed. It was sunday. I crossed through the Sports club, where some people were sitting, first i thought to go there and see if i can buy a bottle of water from there, but i decided otherwise. 

I re-started running, because i wanted to finish the episode as early as possible. The temperature was around 30 degrees centigrade, and i was running, enjoying. My legs , which had been complaining of tiredness at Ercan, had infact stopped sensing anything  that could be referred to as tiredness. They were just under the command of my brain, which was pushing them to run and run and run, without feeling anything. My feet were chasing each other in an automatic rhythm. I was running, without feeling anything. No heat, no thirst, no tiredness. Perhaps all senses had started becoming ineffective on me. I was running slowly but in a very passionate style.

It was not too long that i found myself entering the Paşaköy village. The grand mosque of the village was in front of me. The house of my friend was just 100 metres away. I took a snap of the mosque, as a landmark for my expedition, and ran past it. 

The door was opened by the wife of my friend, who was terribly shocked in seeing me in such a condition. She did not believe me when i told her that i had come running/walking all the way through from Lefkoşa some  35km away. She took some time to come back to her senses. I drank two large glasses of water, and fell down at the sofa. It was 12noon. I had completed the span of 35km in 5.30 hours. Not a bad performance. I was a bit tired but too happy. 

I slept for about an hour. A deep sleep did the wonder. I woke up at about 1,30pm, almost fresh. The lunch was very nice, and i loaded myself as much as i could. Rice, potatoes, bread, salad, yoghurt, i cleaned all plates on the table. I did not sit back as i finished the lunch. I did not want to sit back. Later on i drank two cups of hot tea. I went to the toilet .

I was all ready to run/walk 35km again. I was no more undecided and confused. I had been feeling myself sufficiently fresh and confident to go out for further 35km. The time was quarter to 3pm. I said goodbye, and came back on the road, heading back towards Gaziköy and Ercan airport. 

I was in high spirits. The only problem was heat. It was quite too hot. Scortching sun was just on my head. However, i succeeded in keeping my attention diverted to the sceneries around. In fact there was nothing extraordinary around. Stretched to the forenost were plain fields. There was nobody anywhere, except small lizards emerging from the brown grass, going faster than me for a moment and again going back to the grass. They were of all sizes. I enjoyed looking at them. I kept on walking. The road to Ercan was too long....more than 10 kilometres. 

Again i gave myself a ten minutes rest break as i reached Ercan airport round about. I took off my shoes, sat on the grass, rested my back to the iron base of a neon sign. I closed my eyes. The clouds had re-started emerging. In a short period of time, it was no more as hot as it had been before. I was lucky.

I took off again, to run back on the long long road with my back towards Ercan. It was a nice run with long patches of walking. Cars and taxis were fast passing by me. The traffic on the road had started to increase. A couple of aeroplanes had landed a little earlier, and the passengers were fast going to their destinations. Some did blew their horn, some waived hands to me as they crossed by. I enjoyed the scene. But i had started feeling tiredness. It was still more than 10 km to go. 

I was no more running. I decided to give myself another 10 minutes rest gap, as i turned left ton the main highway facing Lefkoşa. There was a small bus stop there. I put my things on the bench, took off my shoes, and closed my eyes. I was tired. 

I took off again. I had had to walk, there was no other option for me. Walk and walk and walk.  "Just ten kilometres left,"i told myself, as i set off with fresh commitment. I had already finished the water. I bought a fresh bottle from a petrolpump.The water was cold. I finished the whole bottle in one go. 

It was about 8,30pm as i crossed Hamitköy roundabout. Totally dark.  "Reaching home in 45 minutes." i messaged to my daughter. 

My legs were tired but were moving in full swing, as i turned to the road where i walk 6km daily. The rest was easy. 

It was 9 pm as i entered my house. Home sweet home.

It was a wonderful day. I was too tired physically , but not mentally. 

Now i am more confident. I tested myself. I passed. Next time i will be goiing for a further longer distance. I have already crossed the 70km mark. 

(In the end i would like to say that it is only Allah who helps me moving ahead in life and in overcoming all obstacles. But i do not like saying İnshallah, Mashallah, etc every now and then, because i believe that excessive repitition of any word leads to reduction in its importance. )

IT IS WITHIN OUR REACH

The 49 years old Belgian athlete Stefan Engels has created a record of running a marathon a day, consecutively for 365 days. a wonderful achievement.

http://edition.cnn.com/2011/SPORT/02/05/marathon.record.engels.365/index.html

I was just reading this news item. Rolling down to the news item, i found out something very interesting. He was a patient of ASTHMA, as a child. The doctors had told him that he would never be able to do exercise. It was then that he decided to start running marathon. Now look at the achievement of the same asthma patient.

The reason is simple. I believe that doctors usually OVERACT and make the patients terrified. Being sick is just a part of life, and the life must go on. But my experience shows that the doctors usually do more to terrify the patient instead of building his confidence and will power.

The only way out that the doctors usually show to their parents is medicines. the patients of blood pressure, sugar, etc etc live their lives just with the help of the medicines. Whereas had they not become addicted to these medicines, they could have lead a normal life, just by being more disciplines and careful. But the doctors do not show them these ways. The medicines are not the only recourse. Disciplining the daily life is the answer.

I might have mentioned earlier too. I was a regular visitor of doctors' clinic till i was in my early twenties. I was diognised Tuberculosis. A pretty long and strenuous period of medicines, injections, x-rays, blood tests etc etc passed, and that made me think about asking myself. "Is this the only way?".

With the help of my father, i started collecting information about the human body and medicines. then i found a book that my father had brought a couple of years back. It was the urdu translation of an english book. I do not remember its name now, but i remember i had found it sometime back on the net also. The book is the life tale of a person, who did have a long history of heart disorders in his family. He himself was a centre of quite too many sickness as a child. The doctors had never hoped that he would remain alive. But this young man, later on  studied human body, its functions and disorders, and decided to discipline his life.

He charted out his own principles of disciplining his own life. He tested all his theories over his own body and started seeing the results. The book carried his photos at the age of 20s and 70s. He was too fit at the age of 70.

Just simply, disciplining the life.
BASIS OF SELF DISCIPLINING

IMPROVING THE IMMUNE SYSTEM .... HOW TO AVOID BECOMING SICK

A strong immune system is the key for a healthy life. Persons with weaker immune system carry more chance of getting sick again and again. A person with a stronger immune system most probably get least damage for any sickness. It is just like the armed forces of a country. A country must have a strong military force to thwart any attack from outside.

Our bodies are our country. We have got  organs to run this country. The immune system is our defence forces.  We must try to improve their effectiveness. This is simple logic.

Medicines are basically toxins. The toxins pass out of our body from various points of discharge. The production of toxins is an automatic and natural process of our body systems. The whole system works naturally, but once we increase the burden of toxins , on our organs, by inducting toxins from the medicines, these organs suffer , since they do have to work more to pass the toxins through. Thus various systems of our bodies start being tired of overworking. This overworking of all organs, are one of the main reasons of our so many sicknesses. The sickness first show signs on the spot or organ which happens to be the weakest in our body.  It differs from person to person. Again some more medicines,further  increase burden on our organs, and the next weaker organ of our body start giving signals of being sick. Thus a chain of intermitting complaints of sickness starts. We feel ourselves cured of one sickness by using some prescribed medicines. But in fact the chain of interlinking actions and reactions inside our body continues. We do not know how we have overburdened our inner organs, and all of a sudden one day we start complaining about some other sickness. We never think of linking the two sicknesses. Our doctors never tell us this. Why?

The present day medicines in general help our immune system , in getting rid of some sickness. These medicines can thus be considered as the foreign soldiers whom we have invited to help our soldiers to defend our borders. But how long? We must try to build a system that we would not be needing this foreign military help at the time of need. We must try to strengthen our own defence mechanism.

Let i continue with the same example, just to understand the situation. The arrival of the foreign forces always make a negative psychological effects on the local soldiers. They become used to asking for the foreign help at the time of need. They get used to this practice, and suffer strong downfall in their own efficiency. They become lazy .

This is exactly what happens to our immune system (internal defence mechanism of our bodies), when we ask for foreign help (medicines) again and again.

The only way out is to train our soldiers. We must force our soldiers to strictly adhere the military drills. They must be forced to obey the orders. They must sleep and wake up at the assigned timings. They must be ever ready to meet any foreign threat at the first stage.

We must discipline our lives to make our immune soldier as strong and efficient as a perfect soldier.

We must now think, do we need foreign soldiers to defend our borders and our soldiers remain lazy and efficient, or you want to put your soldiers through strict military drills. This is what i call disciplining our lives.

BE HEALTHY BY SAYING NO TO THE MEDICINES.........DISCIPLINE YOUR LIFE

                                                                           Photo by Hugh Kretschmer for Newsweek

Ask any sick person about the reason of his sickness. He will come up with the name of a disease or virus. Ask a doctor the sickness of his patients? He will list down the names of the diseases. Go to any doctor, tell him about your sickness, he will prescribe a number of medicines for you.

By using the prescribed medicines, you will find yourself recovered quickly. That makes you happy . But what you do not know that the medicines that you used in fact have relieved you of your prime complaint. But you are still prone to other sicknesses. In a short period of time you will find yourself again visiting the same or some other doctor, with a different complain. As the saying goes once you start using medicines with or without doctors's prescription, in all probability you will become a more frequent visitor to the doctor and consumer of the medicines.

Why is it so?

The human body has got the immune system. I prefer to call it the natural inbuilt defence mechanism of the human body. We become more prone to any sickness when our immune system is weak. Unfortunately, the doctors usually do not tell us what makes our immune system weak. The very obvious reason for this behaviour of the doctors is that they do not want to lose the patients.

What makes our immune system weak?

A long list of reasons can be prepared, however most important from them are........

1.MEDICINES THAT WE USE. Medicines are the toxins, when mixed up with our blood effects so many areas of our organs that even the present day medical system does not know.

2. USE OF ANTIBIOTICS


3. IMPROPER DIET


4. USE OF ALCOHOL


5. STRESS


6. EXPOSURE TO RADIATION


7. LACK OF EXERCISE


8. LACK OF SLEEP

etc etc etc

Now whenever you feel yourself sick look at the above, and test yourself against them. Do not rush to the doctor. Take your time. Try to understand your body yourself. Do not let the doctor take decisions on your behalf, because everyone of us has got a different body, and it is only us who can feel what our body is saying. A doctor simply cannot hear the voice of our bodies. He can just guess.

So take your time. Do not rush to the doctor, who has got no other goal but to prescribe the medicines, and play his part in bumper profits of the pharmaceutical firms.

ALWAYS KEEP ONE SIMPLE POINT IN YOUR MIND
It is better to discipline your life yourself, if you do not want to spend your life attached to a respiratory machine. Disciplining the life is not something difficult. Do everything to improve your immune system, if you want to remain away from the sickness.

NOTE: I used to be a Tuberculosis patient at the age of 24 and a frequent visitor of the doctors' clinics.  One day i stopped using medicines and learnt to understand the complaints of my body. I have learnt how to bear the pain, by being remain cool and patient. Regular minimum exercise, has played a big role in keeping me away from medicines. Now at the age of 56 i run/jog/walk for around 60km per week. I have not used medicines for over last 30 years. I am very happy and find myself healthy. 

SAY NO TO MEDICINE
http://www.thedailybeast.com/newsweek/2011/08/14/some-medical-tests-procedures-do-more-harm-than-good.html

MY FIRST PAINTING EXHIBITION

Thanks to early guidance by my father, i  started making pencil sketches at a very young age, when i was in the middle school.. Later on my studies forced me to not to go too far in the world of art. However once i qualified as Chartered Accountant, in 1979, the road was wide open to me .

However, as if freed from a prison, i started off in various directions at the same time. Music, journalism,running, painting, plus my job, i set off for all at once. However, with the limited time at my disposal, i could not do much that i wanted to do.

But even before that when i use the word Exhibition, i recall the time when i was in class 6th i thnk. My father had showed me how to draw a portrait on paper, by making small squares  on the original photo and then making the same number of larger squares on a piece of paper, and then draw every line in each square as it appeared in the same square on the photo.

I made the portrait of a boy, just lines, no shades. I showed it to my father. He was more than pleased. As a recognition of my achievement, he pasted that sketch on the entrance door of our sitting room. So every visitor used to have a look at the portrait that i had made. The same portrait remained there on the door for quite sometime. It was the first exhibition of my art work.

I had been making pencil sketches for years, however by looking at the penworks by famous artist EQBAL MEHDI http://www.eqbalmehdi.com/ in Subrung digest, i had started making sketches by ballpoint pens and marker. However i did not know how to make sketches by pen and ink. I was too afraid to start oil painting.

EQBAL MEHDI


beautiful-drawings-and-paintings-of. EQBAL MEHDI

I had joined M/s Rahim Jan & Co. Charterd Accountants, as an articled clerk for doing my chartered accountancy, in 1974. My first audit assignment was Khairpur Oil Mills, Khairpur Miras, Sindh. I stayed there for quite sometime. I was staying in the guest house of he mill. I was having much free time , after returning from work. There were around 8 quite large photos of sceneries in glass frames, ahnging in the dining hall. An idea struck my mind. I started copying the sketches made by EQBAL MEHDI in Subrung digest, on large drawing cards, with pencil colours. I had been completing a couple of sketches a week, and replacing the sceneries in the frames with my colourful sketches. In a month's time, their was none of the sceneries left. The dining hall had become my exhibition hall. There were 8 large sized (about 24 x 20 inches) framed coloured sketches , made by myself, hanging there. There were not much visitors there, except three or four regular visitors there. Even then it was a matter of pride for me.For the first time I had put my art works on display.

Later on in  the year 1983. We were going to have  the annual get together of Rahim Jan & Co, in Sana Palace, Federal B' Area, Karachi. I was the main organisor. One of my articled clerk RIZWAN HASHMI was interested in calligraphy. He had had some good pieces of calligraphies done by him in oil. I had written an article about his calligraphy, which was published in the youth page of  The Dawn.

While organising the annual get together, the idea of exhibiting our paintings in the function came to our minds. It was a good idea. Resultantly i pasted my pencil works on hard boards. There were i think 10 or 12 sketches in all. Rizwan was going to put 4 or 5 pieces of his calligraphy.

On the day of the function we put a few tables in the corner of the hall and put our works resting by the wall on them. It was a moment of extreme satisfaction seeing the guests appreciating our efforts.,

I continued making sketches in pencil and pen, when in the year 1984  my friend Iftikhar Hussain, who used to be my old class fellow and the singer of our musical group,(i used to play drums in the group) THE GRADUATES, took me to the annual function of ZUBAIRI ASSOCIATION. There i met a young artist (Razi Ahmet Zubairi) who had put some of his art works on display there. Indeed that was the only thing that i was interested in.The quality and standard of his works made me realise that i must be working hard if i want to do something in the world of art. Iftikhar introduced me to the artist  Lately my friendship with Razi fostered.

However, thanks to my friend Razi Zubairi, i started doing oil painting too. My field of work has always been portraits. I started doing experimenting with oils. Once i made a portrait of an old man by rubbing black paint on a white canvass and then etched the black colour by a piece of cloth. The result was a good portrait of an old man. Razi Zubairi asked me to put the painting in a competition which was being organised by the Arts Council of Pakistan,  Karachi (1984). Reluctantly i submitted my painting. I was more than happy when i was awarded the special prize. This helped me gaining the much needed confidence, and i started taking painting more seriously. But ofcourse finding time from painting was the biggest problem for me.

It was early 1985, when Razi Ahmed Zubairi, took me to Eqbal Mehdi. I had never thought of meeting the artist, who had always been my favourite. I showed him the sketches that i had by then made. In his peculiar style he said,"hmmmmm acha kaam hey". (good work) On my request he allowed me to visit his studio whenever i get time. That was just what i had not even thought of. I started visiting his studio, whenever i could get some time. However, the most time that i could take out of my very hectic schedule, was usually not more than an hour a week.

One day i asked Eqbal Mehdi, that i wanted to have an exhibition of my paintings. He told me that i must have sufficient number of paintings to start thinking about organising a painting exhibition. He advised me to do some calligraphy. Under his guidance i started  writing the word ALLAH in various styles on paper, in black ink with the oil colour wash over it. It came out to be something different. But due to the limited time that i used to have at my disposal, it was going to take months for that. But i was too eager to have an exhibition of my works.

I charted out a plan. I used to go to the YMCA almost daily for running. I spoke to the president of the YMCA one day, and asked for his permission to exhibit my works in a room. There was no art gallery or lounge sort of place there, where the paintings could be exhibited. He was reluctant, but agreed ultimately, when i told him that i would be arranging everything by myself, and would be extremely careful that nothing is damaged there.

In a matter of week, i hurriedly sorted out my old pencil and penworks. I decided to make Eqbal Mehdi its chief guest. I told him about that. He agreed. I got the invitation cards published and started distributing them. I always had a very limited social circle. However, i managed to invite each and every person that i did know.

The room where i was going to exhibit my works, was a small one. There were cupboards with glass doors. I pasted my paintings (drawing cards) with tape on the glasses. My makeshift art gallery was ready. In the nearby lounge of the YMCA hostel i managed to bring chairs from each part of the YMCA. Luckily a good number of friends, mostly from my office (Rahim Jan & Co. Chartered Accountants), turned up.

It would be improper if i do not thank my colleagues , who helped a lot in organising the event.

Eqbal Mehdi arrived with his students. Tanweer, Siraj, .........., Shehnaz and Shabnam. They were all there. The ex film star turned journalist Asad Jaffery was also there. Eqbal Mehdi was kind enogh to say some nice words about me. In his peculiar slow style he said," ACHA KAAM KURTEY HEIN". (His work is good).

Eqbal Mehdi toured the room and looked at the sketches. The visitors looked at my works with interest. I was too happy. The first exhibition of my paintings (howsoever amateurish that was) but that helped me a lot in gaining confidence, and i started working for my next paintings. Fortunately or unfortunately i had always been more interested in exhibiting my works, since my marketing side is very very weak, so i always failed to sell to meet even the organising costs of the exhibitions.

THE START OF MY LONG DISTANCE RUNNING/JOGGING/WALKING

I used to be somewhat serious about playing hockey, when i was in school. However since i broke my arm twice while playing hockey in 1972, so i had had to leave hockey for good. I started concentrating more on my education.

After qualifying as Chartered Accountant at the age of 24 in 1979, the desire to play some game once again showed its face. Returning back to hockey was almost impossible for me. Athletics had always been my second field of interest. I decided to enter the field of athletics.

I was working as external auditor at the Karachi Electric Supply Corporation , just behind the Elphinston Street. The nearest sports ground and centre was YMCA. So one evening after leaving from my office, i went to the  YMCA . It was the first time that i had gone there.  I met a very cooperative fellow, who was the incharge of sports there. I told him that i wanted to start athletics. He asked me if i had ever participated in athletics. My reply was a simple No. He asked my age. I told him that i was 26. He smiled and told me that usually at the age of 26 an athletes start thinking of retiring.

But as i always put it, i am a different person. I was keen to start athletics at the age when others usually leave. He advised me that long distance running would be feasible for me. He told me some basics of running, and i started visiting and running in the small YMCA mud track, almost daily in the evening. YMCA was at the walking distance from KESC.

I started running a bit in the morning in a park near to my house, and at the YMCA in the evening. I added some basic exercises for my fitness. However, since i was still carrying after effects of Tuberculosis, i was very careful about not to overdo anything. I may tell that i was a TB patient in my early twenties.(That's an another story).

I used to carry my sports shoes, short, track suit in a canvas bag, that i used to carry with me. The same bag used to carry my camera too. YMCA was also a talent hunting ground for me as a freelance journalist. The Arts Council too was very near from there, and i used to visit there too occasionally , to attend art exhibitions, after finishing my evening run at YMCA. From 9 to 5 i was the auditor. 5 to 7 i was a sportsman. From 7 pmonwards i was a freelance journalist, photographer, etc etc.

Now returning back to the topic. I attended a week long (evening) athletics camp in the YMCA, to have a better knowledge of athletics.

A day came when i was told that the Athletics Federation was organising a road race in karachi. I was more than excited . I decided to compete. The race was supposed to be started on the Shahrah e Faisal, in front of Hotel Mehran. My father accompanied me there. It was early in the morning (perhaps 7am). We were supposed to run from there till the turning towards Tariq Road, and then will have to turn from the next roundabout back towards the Numaish round about (Mazar of Quaid e Azam). In the above photograph i am the one standing, with green shirt. My chest number was 106. This photo was taken by my late father before the start of the race. The year was perhaps 1981 or 1982.

I started the race with great anxiety. It was my first race ever. I was going to be an athlete. I ran and ran and ran. But how long? A moment came when i had had to stop. I started walking, restarting running again. I kept on following the same slow process, till i completed the race.

When i reached the finish point, i found two persons waiting eagerly for me. They were none else but my late father and the athletics coach of YMCA. They both welcomed me and congratulated me for completing the race. I was the last person to complete the race. Most of the participants had already left for their homes, after completing the race. I was too happy. I had finished my first long distance road race. That was the start........and the race still goes on.

At the age of 56 i am still running, in the same way, in which i had run my first road race , some 30 years back. My running speed is still the same. I run , jog and walk. I no more participate in road races, because i am simply fed up of coming last in the race. I run/jog/walk for miles and miles. I enjoy running in my own style and at my own terms. I love it. 

WHAT'S IN THE NAME

I had always thought that the name of a person is something that one gets from his/her parents. You like it or not, but it is your name. You get this name when you even do not know who you are, where you are, and  what you are doing. But you have got a name. A name which , willingly or not, is going to represent you. Whether you are present at a particular place or at a particular time, your name is going to represent you. This is something i always wanted to think over. Why is it so?

I am sure there are quite a many persons who do not like their own or family name, but they continue with the one that they have been told to be theirs. But they just spend their lives with the same name , without finding themselves courageous enough to change it.

A name usually exhibits the mood of the parents. There are some parents who leave the job of giving the name to a newly or about to be born baby, to their own parents. In such a situaiton, it needs atleast 4 persons (the parents of the mother and father of the baby) to find out a name. My experience shows that it is not that much easy for all to agree to one single name of the baby. At times such an exercise give birth to serious differences among the two families, which i time do effect the family lives of the parents of the baby too. But this is the system that a big number of parents usually adhere to, despite all possible problems that may come up.

In some families, particularly in Pakistan, the hard and fast rule is to find some suitable name from Quran. Under this practice, the parents usually have got no other way out but to accept the name, whatever that may be. Whether they like iit or not, they are not supposed to object.

Among the turkish people, finding a name for a newly born is very easy. Wast majority of the turkish people usually give the names of the grandparents to the newly born. A newly born male, for example is going to have the name of his paternal or maternal grand father. The same is for a newly born babygirl too. She is most probably going to end up with the name of her maternal or paternal grandmother.

Some parents however find themselves lucky enough to be given the right to select the name for their newly born themselves. That in fact is usually a big test for the parents, perhaps if it was their first chance. They usually do not agree at one single name. They usually end up arguing each other , for a long period. In the end they too agree on one particular name, but usually the party feels himself/herself overruled by the other.

Interestingly, with all this going on, nobody do care if the newly born baby, when grown up would be agreeing to spend his/her whole life with that particular name. But nobody thinks about this very basic problem. But it is a fact that quite many people do try but fail to find out why that particular name was given to them by their parents.

So what may be the solution?

The only solution in my opinion is to give the children a right to select their own name by themselves. But how?

Well do not expect everything to be answered by me

Let you too think and come up with your proposal.

THE GENERATION GAP

A couple of months back, i just mentioned in one of my posts, how my father used to teach me the basics of drawing and painting, way back in early 1960s. Mr. Qaiser Islam, a friend of mine , mentioned that now a days the parents who want to teach drawing and painting to their children, teach them how to use the photoshop program on the computer. Frankly speaking mentally i was not prepared  for such a comment. I had never thought that one day the computer would make so deep impact on our daily lives that it would even change the very basic things.
QAISER ISLAM

But, on the other hand it led me to realise an another fact. I now belong to the older generation. The new generation is fast adjusting their lives to the changed norms, whereas the representatives of the old generation , like myself, are trying but finding it hard to adjust themselves in the new setup. Yes, in other words we can say that there is a generation gap between the two generations. A fact that i always had in my mind, and waited for. The time has arrived ultimately.

It was the year (perhaps) 1968. The Pakistan Television had been working hard to put in the best of the programs, to fill the 4 hours evening transmission. The first episode of ZIA MOHIUDDIN SHOW had just started. It was a totally new sort of program for the viewers. Zia had been inviting his guests one by one on the stage. I remember the best of the best were there. Z.A.Bukharee, Josh Maleehabadi, (was Faiz also there?), Sabri brothers, Amanat Ali and Fateh Ali Khan, Bholu Pehliwan, Sadequain, Fareeda khanum, were there. Z.A.Bukharee and Josh Maleehabadı were specifically making the viewers laugh by their differing styles of very high quality humor

.ZIA MOHIUDDIN SHOW
ZIA MOHIUDDIN SHOW


At that time Zia Mohiuddin invited a young girl, who was a student of the Karachi University. It was her first chance to participate in such a show, and that too together with such stalwarts and established figures of respective fields. But the very reason why that young girl was invited by Zia, was her capability as a staunch debator. And she proved that instantly. The topic given to her was nothing else but GENERATION GAP. She explained and argued so proficiently, that even a young teenager like me very clearly understood what in fact generation gap is. She was none else but KHUSHBAKHT SHUJAAT, the present MNA and (perhaps) minister in pakistan central government.
KHUSHBAKHT SHUJAAT
KHUSHBAKHT SHUJAAT


Since that day, i could not forget this. However, the fact is that its not something new in our lives. Generation gap had always been there and would always be there. Usually at a particular time, we see three consecutive generations at the same place. The children, parents, grandparents. These three generations usually share the same time, same culture, same values, but each of them, having their own and usually differing views about them.

For grandparents, their own children did not and do not share their views fully. The parents complain that their children do not understand their points of view. Its a fact, whether complained and expressed or not. So what's the problem. Generation gap is just there to exist, the same way as it had been among two generations a thousands years ago, today and perhaps after a thousands years from today too.

So the generations must look at it as something to be accepted.

I am happy with the gaps that i found between my parents and myself, and between myself and my children.
What about you?

There's nothing new

AHMED ALAM THE EX PAKISTAN HOCKEY CAPTAIN.....IS HE THAT BOY?

Perhaps it was my psychological tilt since i was a child that i remained interested in hockey. Unfortunately i could not do anything in this field. My interest and participation in the game could never rose beyond being an irregular member of the B team of the Nazimabad Mujahıd's (Karachi), during late 60s.

Although i have never played hockey after 1973, when i was 18 years old, yet i always feel a desire to play hockey again. I did play cricket a bit, but my first priority remained hockey. Unfortunately none of my children have got much idea of what hockey is, since we do not have hockey here in this part of the world (North Cyprus). Sometimes i think that i must do something here to introduce the game of hockey here, but i do not find myself confident and competent enough to do some breakthrough.

Luckily mine is a sports loving family. Over years i have developed habit of jogging for long distances (around 40km per week). My wife did venture in local long distance races, and has got a medal for being second in a 5km race. She became a national badminton referee and volunteered  as referee in athletics also. My eldest son is a second don black belt in kickboxing. My other son is fond of playing basketball. My young daughter used to be the national junior champion of badminton. Later on she became more serious about basketball, and is now playing at the school level. Lately she has been selected in the national team. (Unfortunately, my present country is not a recognised country, so the only country where our national team can go is Turkey). even then being a member of a national team is an honor of distinct.

Since late 1970s when i entered into the field of journalism, as a free lance journalist, hockey remained the centre of my interest. Since, for over 11 years in that field i wrote hundreds of articles about Pakistan hockey, a s a regular feature writer for DAILY NEWS and The MAG and quite a few magazines of that time.

I remember, way back during 1980s, a hockey loving son of my distant relative, approached me to introduce a tall very young boy, who had just started his hockey carrier as a goalkeeper in some local hockey club. I decided to write an article about him. The other morning, quite early in the morning, (because i did have to go to office at around 8am), i went to his house in Paposh Nagar (Nazimabad) and together with his goalkeeping gear and hockey we went to the nearby hockey ground. I spoke to him at length He wore his goalkeeping pads and guards, took his hockey in his hand and wore a cap. He was all ready to be photographed. His inner emotions were more than evident from the expressions on his face. For the first time, that young boy was being interviewed. With my Yashica camera ready, i was all ready to take his snaps. With my every yes, he gave a different pose in front of the goal. Clearing the ball, diving right or left, hitting the ball with his boot. With my deep interest in hockey, i took quite too many photos of him.  That particular interview was published in the Youth Page of The DAWN. The editor of the page decided to publish his one photo , standing in front of the goal.

I had almost forgotten that boy, but quite some years, after being totally out of touch from Pakistan hockey for years, i found out that a young goalkeeper (Ahmed Alam) had risen to be the captain of the Pakistan National hockey team. Unfortunately, i failed to recall the full name of the boy whom i had interviewed.  What i could recall as his name was Alam. Is Ahmed Alam the same boy who represented Pakistan in the 2000 Sydney and 2004 Athens Olympics, and rose to be the captain of the team.

 Is he the same young boy whom i had interviewed way back in early 1980s, and that was his first introduction in the press. I am not sure.

Can anybody clarify? I am just curious.


AHMED ALAM

http://www.sports-reference.com/olympics/athletes/al/ahmed-alam-1.html

WALK, WALK AND WALK

According to the news Senad Hadzic, a 47 years old Bosnian, has started off on foot, from his hometown, intending to cover a total distance of  3,600 miles, to reach Mecca, to perform Hajj. A very commendable feast indeed.
FROM BOSNIA TO MECCA ON FOOT

Here you can see the route map of Senad Hadzic, from Bosnia to Mecca.

There have been hundreds and hundreds of people , from each corner of the earth, who walked through the world. There are quite too many people who are walking on foot, right now, with the intention to cover the whole and if not a big part of the world.

Looking , while sitting in our drawing rooms, we usually consider long walk as something very difficult. But in fact it is not. Everybody can walk long distances. Apart from a bit of physical fitness, whats needed the most is self confidence and will power. You must set a goal, commit yourself to it, and go. That's all.

Believe me it is not a big issue. All we need is strong will power. I know most of the friends can do wonders in this world, only if they can build a strong will power.

It^s true, that most of those who want to walk for big adventures, cannot do that due to their commitments in daily lives, viz. job. But , atleast they can maintain their daily long walk ( a few kilometres), and a longer walk (10 km for example) on the weekend. It's not something very extra-ordinary. It does not need a body of steel. Its just very simple. Start walking. The rest will come by itself.

But i think the best time to venture on such adventures, is after the retirement from active jobs. At such a stage, one can spent more time on long walks, and may plan for a world tour on foot. Believe me it is not that much a big issue. Think of it as something within your reach. Yes it is.


A SITE WORTH READING AND FOLLOWING

WALK, WALK, WALK

THE MAN WHO WALKED AROUND THE WORLD

STANDARD OF EDUCATION IN KARACHI

Just today i got a chance of speaking to one of my school days' friend. It was a short chat on the net. I asked him about his children, and he told me that the eldest one is in the university and the other one is doing his O level. My friend lives in Pakistan and i am out of Pakistan. We both had done our matriculation from the Government Boys Secondary School No.1 Nazimabad, Karachi, way back in the year 1969.

He told me that now no one wants to send their children to a government school in Karachi. I do know that.. In his own words,"it has now become a fashion to send the children, for A or O level education". I joked that perhaps we in our days did not need such schooling, because we were all LEVELLED: We both laughed.

In fact, what he said is true. I have spoken to quite few people in karachi, who laugh at the idea of sending their children to a government or urdu medium school. I wonder, why the mentality of karachi people has so grossly been changed . Why our parents were not so curious about our education? Why they had not thought of sending us to english medium school? Why they had not thought of sending us to the A or O level?

Our parents, were not penniless. They were not too wealthy too. But i am sure they were able to manage sending us to english medium schools. Why did they opt to send their children to an urdu medium, government school.

Getting admission in a government school was not that much easy during the 1960s. Why? The reason was very simple. The top positions in the matriculation examinations in karachi had usually been won by the students of government schools. Actually the standard of the government schools used to be very high. Honestly i put it that way. Some may argue that the overall education standard of karachi schools had been so low in those days that a government school student could get the highest marks. But i do not agree with such logic. It was not like that. Mr. Zeeshan Qureshi, who was my senior in the Government School Nazimabad, had topped in the matriculation examination. He later on went to UK and got the highest marks in the Chartered Accouıntancy examination. Later on i came to know that he had become a senior partner in A.F.Ferguson & Co. Chartered Accountants, Pakistan. He was just a simple boy from a government urdu medium school.

I know quite a many karachites , who had studied in urdu medium government schools, but later on succeeded in acquiring advanced education in pakistan and foreign countries. Quite a many had made their marks in foreign countries.

We all learnt english through the same book, with the characters of Ali and Jameela. I myself and quite many good friends of mine, never went to any tuition centre. I myself and many of my friends never thought of learning english language from some institiute with big name. We were simple people, and we used to concentrate on what we were taught by our honest teachers.

We did enjoy innumerable social and sports activities in our school. Debates were common. Drawing competitions were there. We used to compete with other sections of the class in making the most beautiful small garden in the school ground. We used to have our cricket, hockey and basketball teams. I remember that our school had once invited one of the famous celebtrities of the then most hit TV program KASAUTI, to our school. I remember, we had been running from here to there, just to get his autograph.


The government schools, in those days , used to TEACH and EDUCATE the students. That was all. In fact that was all that we needed in those days. There had been so beautiful atmosphere of harmony and co-operation among the students, and between the teachers and students, that we had never thought of being a mohajir or sindhi or punjabi or pathan. We were all students and that was all. We were neither shia nor sunni in the school. We were not the activists of any political or religious party or group. We were students, who were their to gain knowledge from our teachers. There had been an indepth relationship based on respect and love between the teachers and the students.

True, that everyone misses one!s past. But what my generation is missing is not just missing, it's more than that, just because we feel bad seeing how the education system of karachi has deliberately been spoiled by the vested interests.

Here i would like to give a small example, which would clarify what i want to say. The Karachi Circular Railway was a very brave and perhaps the best solution to help solving the karachi traffic problem. But once the vested interests saw that the general public is prefering the circular railway instead of their mini-buses, they started letting the criminals and the well known drug users (heroinchis) sit and settled in the railway wagons. Their very presence , and the problems that they used to create in the railways wagons, forced people to use mini-buses instead of the circular railways. The ultimate position os the Karachi Circular Railway is known to everybody.

The same technique was applied to divert general public from the government schools, towards the schools with big names and big fees. Groupings, in the name of politics and religions, was deliberately inducted in the government schools. Every day problems of law and security were deliberately created in the government schools, just to fill pockets of vested interests. The vested interests once again succeeded in achieving their goals. The already filled pockets are still being filled. Thanks to the political and religious leaders of karachi.

30 YEARS AFTER

It was a wonderful and unforgetable evening yesterday. I played on drums after a long gap of 30 years. I played to my best, yet i could not do much. I failed to do the rolls. I had forgotten almost all the beats, except the Jerk. Yet it was wonderful. I was there for around half an hour, and i enjoyed every moment of that. That was wonderful.

The son of my boss has started learning playing drums. He bought a new drums set. Last evening i visited them and got the chance to play. It was a brand new Yamaha. Wow, a dream for me, because i had always dreamt of playing on yamaha, but in my days, we never had had that much money. I played on my drums for around 13 years on local made drums, with animal skins. I remember, that i had saved some money to buy one plastic skin for my snair drum. But last evening it was all plastic skinned brand new Yamaha.

My adventure with drumming started way back in the year 1969, when i was in class tenth. My father had come across Joe Fernandes, the guitarist of the group THE COSACKS. That group used to be one of the leading musical groups of karachi in those days. They used to play in Hotel Mehran.

One evening, my father asked me if i would like to play on drums. I did not have much idea, yet since i am an adventure loving person, i agreed.

The other day my father took me to Misquita Gardens, just behind the Plaza cinema on the main M.A.Jinnah Road, where used to be a workshop for the trams. . It was a small apartment. I used to be shy of speaking english with him. My father introduced me to him. He spoke to us and told my father what type of a drum should he buy for me. Just a small snair drum and sticks, the one that you see in school bands.

Although it was my father who spoke with him, but i had felt myself thrilled, not by getting the chance to play drums, but b y getting the chance to speak english. I just could not speak to him, in front of my father, but in fact there was nothing for me to talk about. It was just a meeting for a couple of minutes, where my father introduced me to him. A few sentences , and that was all.

The other day i went to him, alone. He showed to me, a beat of drum, on a snair drum. There was no drumset in his house. He was a guitarist. He gave me the address of the drummer of their group.

I was too happy. For the first time in my life i had spoken  to a english speaking person.

That's how i came across with Richard D'Souza, the then drummer of THE COSSACKS musical group. He was a well known person among the music circles of Karachi. He was known as Richie. His peculiarity was his ever smiling face. Whenever i saw him he was smiling.

http://youtu.be/7kCahl0eQgw
musicians of karachi....1
musicians of karachi....2
musicians of karachi....3
musicians of karachi....4
musicians of karachi


to be continued...............