Posted in art, love letters

Moor – A Love Letter to Pakistan (Movie Review)

Moor translates as Mother. Premise: how an individual should not deceive one’s mother and motherland, why is it important stay on track and grounded, and how corruption affects the simple people who have nothing but their home and family to rely on. More importantly, corruption does not have any hierarchy, it is originated from all levels and cripples the whole country.

The story revolves around a family that is distraught by the corruption which results in closing down of the Zhob railway system, and how it disconnected a region from the opportunities and robbed citizen’s life-journeys (both physical and emotional). The parts of plot related to Karachi has indirect references to a company A***t where business of selling fake degrees propelled.

We have waited for Jami (a trend-setter in Ad Films and Music Video industry) to make movies and the wait has been worth it. What a masterpiece Moor is, an artwork which deserves all accolades. Everything about this movie is top-notch. From an engaging nonlinear script, to subtle symbolism, breath-taking cinematography by Farhan Hafeez which does justice to beautiful landscapes of Baluchistan and ruggedness of Karachi and the emotions therein, soundtrack by Strings and lyrics by Anwar Maqsood to die for (their best work till date), dialogues which are full of wisdom but never sound preachy, screenplay that binds it all and performances that are nuanced and never for a second fails to connects (Hameed Sheikh and Abdul Qadir literally speak with their eyes and so do other actors such as Shaz Khan, Soniya Hussain, Samiya Mumtaz – they are not characters, they are real people, you feel for them and they reciprocate by plunging you to feel for your self). Jami surprisingly does a cameo worth-noticing.

I watched this movie with my Moor. I have consciously chosen to live in this country and stand by it because my parents, my Moor, our love is here. Ironically, I was once harassed by an official at Karachi passport office for renewal because he wanted a bribe and I refused. Such is the politics of identity, existence, survival and belonging sadly today – where the world is becoming a global village but we have hollowed our own land. Whenever I have traveled abroad I have always missed only one thing back in my country – it is the transportation system. It brings mobility, it makes connections, it keeps you on track and keeps you moving.

One thing I was looking for in the movie was the soundtrack Ku ku ku (I might have missed it) and Kothbiro by Ayub Ogada, the rights of which were especially bought for this movie. But then editors need to do their job.

Above and beyond everything else, it is the story of simple people narrated in all its complexity but sensitively. One requires honesty and courage to tell such a story which is mostly based on true events and its truth can seem to be ugly, if considered on a superficial level. The frames and many moments of revelation will still haunt a viewer but it gives you hope that there is always light at the end of the tunnel. You will end up staring the train shots from inside the tunnel – they will move you. Both the chaos and pathos here is so relatable and real. It manages to reflect in depths of your own soul – if we bring this transparency to ourselves, the country will start changing. Thanks Jami and team for giving us Moor. This movie has all the potential to bring back the sense of respect for our mothers and motherland back. The movie resonates with what many of us have believed in i.e. we need to go beyond rhetoric of superficial patriotism and fix our own-selves so our generations inherits something of value and it reflects in their character and relationships with us but also in the fabric of our society.

Posted in art, love letters, painting

اب تم جا سکتے ہو

Labor of love 🙂 Painting this was painstaking but more than it was great fun.

“He concentrated on how many lines it took to cover a page. Some days he painted several pages orange…. Art could still start a flame.” – Gail Davis Hopson, Chicken Soup for Teacher’s Soul


Posted in art, love letters, poetry



countless poems and verses

dispersed in thought, diffused

into the vaccuum

but what else are thoughts?

mist of rain

pearls unsetlled

wasted, such a shame

never reached brown crisp sheets

dead – still

this one did.

Description: poetry about the poetic musings and moments that never make it to the paper

Posted in art, love letters, photography

Delicate Beauty

Fragile. This is an extremely gloomy capture having delicate beauty.

My dad was a very courageous man. He always had multiple accidents and recurring health issues but he was God’s loved one so He always kept him under His shelter. Maybe that made my pops so strong.

Since last one and a half year, he had rapid weight lost and physically became quite weak. That would unsettle him from inside. He was still hopeful that there would be some way out; he thought he might get better if we went somewhere outside the city. We never told him seriousness this time’s condition; we ourselves were not that sure. It did not sink in. However, I would always say to him that you will have to live with it because there isn’t much that can be done. He then would become demoralized or gloomy.

He would curl up and lower his head like a kid while resting. I wish I knew more about what was going deep down inside his heart. He would not show it to me and mostly remain silent. Occasionally he would even ask me to leave the room, so both of us don’t have to see other in pain. I suppose, the same was the last thing that he would have said to me in Special Care Unit – deep down these words carried an ocean of love.

He was in a kind of pain which I can only feel but not comprehend. He was feeling something which I could feel but cannot name. I would feel like giving him a big hug and telling him that everything would be okay. For some reason, I could not muster up courage to do so. However, I would try to compensate by giving him a kiss. Conversely, he preferred that I lay beside him and he would take me under his arms close to his chest – I have tasted heaven. Deep down I wished I could do something.

In the justice of nature, everything was okay. He was physically and emotionally tired but his soul was pure. He became sort of ethereal and adorably innocent. He walked with small steps as he was a kid again. He would sudden come and stand quietly beside you. He would always give smile and whenever he saw people he would tell them how happy and delighted he was by meeting them. Flowers and nature brought smile to his face. He was such a person always but now its intensity was at the peak.

He was a recently-diagnosed CLD patient; he had to be because he was Caring-Loving-Dad all his life. In his last days, he craved and received same care and love as if he was a son for the world.

Posted in care, happiness, life, one story at a time., love letters

For Dad, with love and utmost respect.

His eyes sparkle and they always say that he loves me. He never shows his pain to me- never ever; he can not see me in pain either. He did not have everything but he has made sure that I get everything. Comfort, opportunities to learn, opportunities to fulfill interest, chances to socialize, spaces for learning about religion and goodness and what not. He has made my dream of studying at AKU possible. He is not like that only with his wife and son but also to the extended family. He would never want anything for himself; he finds joy in giving. It feels very nice when a down-to-earth person like him asks something for himself. You never have to tell him what you like, he would just get it. I never explicitly told him how much I love peaches and coffee but he knows. All his life, he has given me his unconditional love, support, encouragement and care. Making me feel that yes there is a strong, brave and patient man who would take me under his arms no matter what.

I love sitting with him on the swing since childhood, that has always been our bonding time and place. As a child, many times I would just sleep on swing or sofa and he would pick me up and take me to the bed. When he came back from work, he would bring toys for me. I still cherish the toy steam boat that he brought and we would get ourselves wet to see its magic in a bucket/tub. I loved going with him to office from where he would take me to a flea market to have a cold drink, what an experience! He would take me to Sindbad every month and I would sit in his lap while commuting. We would pinch each other often and we both loved it.

He would bug me to get new clothes when he feels that I have ran out of clothes due to gaining weight :p and also otherwise. “Muje sach mai itni khushi huwi ke tu apne liye yeh [kurta] laya” is what he said to me recently. He would treat or gift my mom suits, watches, rings without any reason; I have learned a lot about relationships from them and the developed habit of giving gifts. And then for himself, he would be so happy in just receiving the gift that he wont even bother about what it is. When he feels down, he wants both of us to lay beside him. When I fainted for the first time, he was there to catch me; when I was hospitalized he kept no stone unturned to give me best possible comfort. When my head was bleeding, he came running to the clinic. Our new found love is joining our heads to show affection.

He loves to take us to dine out, though he would not eat much himself. After the meal, ‘Pan’ is a must because my mom likes it and ice cream would automatically follow because we all love it. Returning home, he would say ‘Maza aya’ and I would naughtily answer ‘Nahi’ and he would say ‘Bohat maza aya’ and his Raja would have big smile with a yes. Thankfully, God has given my family many happy moments together to spend together and celebrate many occasions. He has mashallah se celebrated all my birthdays till now 🙂

Recently, we went to Port Grand. It would continue to be one of the most cherished evenings of my life. He learned how to use his new toy, the camera that my uncle [pappa] specially sent on his request. He was exalted with joy while practicing it as if he has never used a camera before. This amazes me because in actuality have inherited my passion for photography as he used to capture beautiful photographs of mine from an analog camera. Moreover, he would not show his tiredness because it was physically taxing for him to walk and be at a place for long. Oh I can never forget the day when he took me to buy my DSLR and we both were smiling all day. He loves to listen to my mindless stories, high aspirations and achievements.

He never shows anyone that he is hurt by them. He has an amazing sense of humor. He made sure that I never indulge in bad habits and at the same time, he allowed me utmost freedom. He even gives me right to fight with him and later also makes sure that I get some kind of gift or treat as my mood would be down. He can just read my mind, when I am in a worry, he picks it up within a second. The way he gently caresses his eyebrow and lower lip while sleeping is an adorable sight. He is so innocent that he would say sorry even when there is no mistake of his.

Ready to help the needy, he supported them so they can build their houses by their own selves. He would rather put others first than putting himself first. Maybe that’s why few supposedly rich people does not like the man with a big open heart. His purpose and approach to life is completely different, those who are into mundane stuff find it difficult to comprehend his magic. He does all this wonderful things because I feel he is a blessed child. God somehow has always helped him to do such wonderful things and it is only because of Him that he is this caring and selfless person. He never takes No as an answer, he keeps on trying and never gives up. He has seen a lot of difficulties on various front but God has always been kind. He has answered his prayers in the most amazing way and he has always kept him under his shelter. He has always chosen the best for our family. I thank God that He chose him as my father. I feel fortunate that he completes my name. I feel proud to have Tajuddin in my name.

This all is not only for Dad, this is also for Mom because they both have always been together through thick and thin supporting each other mashallah. Both help each other to do whatever they wanted. There are so many more good things to write… He sometimes says that ‘Mere jaisa baap tuje nahi milega’ and I feel sach mai bohat kam ko hi milta hai, Shukarmowla.

Thanks is not a good enough word for the awesome-ness of my dad and mercy of my lord.

Did I tell you that with his smile everything, every place and every moment lights up!

Prayers and lots of love. *Kiss on the forehead*