[Image from omlet.co.uk]

We’ve been thinking about having some egg laying chickens for a while now and decided to take the plunge. The Omlet Eglu range seems easy to maintain and look after and we’ll get on average 18-20 fresh eggs per week from organic, free range chickens. Chicken droppings will also be a great addition for our composter!

The cost was £295 for the Eglu and run, £11 each for the chickens (£33) and a couple of bags of chicken feed for £40.

Omlet deliver, set up and give you a quick tutorial on keeping chickens as part of their service.

Will report again once we receive the order.

Disappointingly, he is joined this time by Dr. Irfan Alawi (not the same as the Marifa.net webmaster who is a different person entirely) who had previously denied, on a number of occasions, any slandering and maligning of Shaykh Hamza and of any direct association with Schwartz. However this time he has written a joint article, in which Schwarts spews his bile and regurgitates the same tired old and firmly debunked myths about Shaykh Hamza. The whole piece reeks of envy, diseased hearts and obsessed minds.

SubhanAllah, it is an understatement to say that Shaykh Hamza and Imam Zaid have changed the lives of thousands, and it is no exaggeration that they have illuminated this world with their works, speech and presence, they never sought fame or repute. I have personally witnessed and spent time with both these men in public and in private and all I have seen is goodness, they are the same in private as they are in public, they are utterly gracious when it comes to criticism and unhesitatingly forgiving when wronged.  Allah chooses whom He wills to carry out His Divine work and who better in the West than Shaykh Hamza and Imam Zaid. What have the likes of the detractors of these great men actually achieved apart from a few pieces of lazy and sensationalist journalism and a few slide-shows on the disappearing sacred heritage of Saudi Arabia, whose lives have they changed for the better, what positive representation of Islam and Muslims have they given?

I am extremely disappointed with Dr. Irfan who has always stated he has nothing against Shaykh Hamza and I have always given him the benefit of the doubt even though some very credible and trustworthy people have pointed out a few things that troubled me regarding him. I have been acquainted with Dr. Irfan since the mid-90s and I have had a few run-ins with him over a misunderstanding or two but our relationship has remained largely cordial.

Anyway, the caravan moves on despite the noise from the proverbial sidelines. May Allah continue to grant Shaykh Hamza, Imam Zaid and all of our noble shayukh long lives and health to keep on doing what they are doing, illuminating our hearts and nourishing our minds. To borrow a phrase from the Bible “by their fruits ye shall know them” – and we have consistently enjoyed beautiful fruits from these beautiful people. The only thing we can do, as per the instruction of our Shayukh, is make dua for these people, and ask Allah to turns their hearts to what is good and forgive them their short comings.

The article appears in the link below, if you care to read it, I have not hyperlinked it as I don’t want to contribute to its page rank so you’ll have to copy and paste it.

http://www.campus-watch.org/article/id/8787

On a cold and wet Sunday morning in winter I would normally get up for fajr prayer at around 7am and once I have offered my prayer would crawl back in to bed. Not today. I was invited to a special screening of the film Journey to Mecca at the IMAX cinema in Waterloo taking place at 9.30am. I had told the kids and the Mrs. that we would be going so they were prepared but my boys, Yusef and Binyamin (14 and 12) were not all that excited, typical teenage nonchalance. We headed to Waterloo from Aylesbury at about 08:10am, the sat nav told me it was about 46miles. It took us an hour to arrive at Waterloo bridge and we managed to find a free parking spot there and the IMAX was a short walk in front of us.

My wife Nazia and I had a special interest in the film as the the hajj scenes were shot whilst we were on hajj in 2007. Some months earlier Abdal Lateef Salazahar (the unit director for Mecca) had mentioned to me that they would be making the film and I told him that I would be going on hajj the same year. One evening as I was walking out of the Haram in Mecca I heard  someone calling “Mas’ud! Mas’ud!” and I looked around and saw Abdal-Lateef waving at me through a crowd of hujjaj (pilgrims), I went over gave my salams and he said “I had a feeling today that I would meeting you today!” He told me that they would be directing scenes in and around the Haram and that his son Yasin was also around (who I met later at Jamarat). Anyway, Nazia and I were very keen on seeing the film (no, I didn’t have a starring role lol!)

As the film rolled, immediately it was clear to me that, with the music score and visuals,  you know that this is something of quality and as the scenes of the Ka’aba faded-in, my emotions got the better of me and my eyes welled up with tears, I looked around at my wife and she also had tears in her eyes, it was beautiful, it was as if our yearning to return to Mecca was unveiled and reignited by this film, even as I write this, I have a deep feeling from the pit of my stomach, a visceral longing that I never really understood in others once they had returned from Hajj, which I fully understood once I had experienced it. I had never been on Hajj before, nor even on umra so the experience for me is still very unique and special.

I don’t plan to review the film, since I went to watch it to enjoy it and experience it, I would love to watch it again once more to attempt to critique it, but from what I saw, it is a top quality production on par with some of the best Hollywood productions. The cinematography and locations were breathtaking, the direction – masterful, the editing – slick and flowing, the score – evocative but unobtrusive and composed by Michael Brook (worked with the late great Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan), the acting – wonderfully sincere and believable with Ben Kingsley narrating some of the incidental scenes. The film was shot entirely on IMAX cameras and this was entirely appropriate considering the majestic nature of the cinematography, the locations and subject matter.

The only criticism I could have of this wonderful film was that perhaps it was too short – it is not feature length, I think the running time is about 45mins, having said that, it is the perfect length for educational purposes and my two boys remained interested throughout and thoroughly enjoyed it.

As the credits closed, an “in memory of” message and a picture showed the lead actor, Chems Eddine Zinoun, who died, tragically, in a car accident aged only 28. I am told that he was an upcoming actor on the cusp of greatness and this was his last role before his passing, my emotions were running high anyway and this felt like a punch in the gut having just watched his wonderful performance, there is no doubt he had a star quality about him but a humbleness in his eyes, may Allah grant him a high maqam in the akhira, Amin.

The audience gave the film a rousing ovation, everyone was in awe of it and had lots of good things to say.

The film is currently not on general release and unless we demand it, it will not be on general release. Those of you who have seen it should write in to the BFI and tell them what you thought of it and encourage them to put it on their IMAX theatres as special showings. Those of you who have not seen it, write to the BFI asking for it to be shown. You can do so here: http://www.bfi.org.uk/help/contact/4/?utm_source=ask&utm_medium=internal&utm_campaign=home. Don’t underestimate the importance of this film and you should, at every opportunity, support it and the film makers in whatever capacity that you can.

The areas covered were:

Communication Planning Tips

• defining the problem,
• set clear and measurable goals,
• know who you want to reach and then figure out how to reach them (know your audience),
• frame issues around emotions of your audience,
• use images, words and messengers that reinforce your frame
• effectively targeting your message by choosing suitable and affordable means

Messaging Tips

• general rule of messaging – Not more than one key message and one or two secondary ones.
• repetition – repeat your message over and over
• deliver a sound-bite that encapsulates your message
• use language that evokes images, it should create a picture in the mind
• keep it simple – simple messages one or two sentences.

Media Relations Tips

• how to form relationships with journalists and media outlets
• opinion writing
• expert commentary
• event hosting
• report writing
• pitching a feature
• crisis response

Interview Tips

• prepare – develop your key message and how to deliver it effectively
• know your interviewer – watch their show or read their articles to get a sense of what angle they will take.
• what type of interview – live, live-to-tape, recorded, satellite, telephone, press? In-studio interview is always preferable, to help build a rapport with the interviewer and producers.
• watch and critique – watch how you did and determine how you can do better
• role play – get together with friends and practice interviews
• SMILE!
• don’t be obliged to answer the question if you don’t want to, bridge to the point you want to make – “that’s an interesting question but….”, or similar techniques to get your point across. DO NOT BE FORCED INTO ANSWERING A QUESTION
• Clothes – TV – wear, grey, blues, browns – don’t wear black or white. Pastel shades for shirts and blouses. Avoid patterns.
• Speak slower than you would normally, drink water periodically

• Plan for a crisis – Identify key individual to pool in the event of a crisis
• develop a communications plan
• practice message delivery
• develop a crisis protocol – what events you set in motion to manage the crisis
• frame story by communicating key messages
• never give a “no comment” response
• speak as part of the wider community, not just as Muslims
• gather facts and then respond if a response is needed

Crisis Communications

• check what is required
• give the readers a brief overview of the issue and then give analysis
• give anecdotes
• use metaphors and analogies
• don’t self-promote by mentioning your organisation
• offer deep analysis
• give key facts
• use colourful, visual and snappy language. Be evocative.

Commentary – writing analysis and comment on an issue

On Sunday evening we were driven to The Mayfair hotel for a speech by Political Editor of the Daily Mirror Jason Beatty who urged Muslims to engage the media more than we are doing, he said that everyday, by way of example, he gets an inbox full of pro-Israeli email and not a single email from any Muslims.

Anyway, thoroughly enjoyed the weekend, some really impressive and dynamic young people around the UK, I was one of the older delegates and I am given a sense of hope that the Muslims of Britain will be in good hands in the future insha’Allah.

Kamran normally buys from two sellers, one is Uns Fine Crafts (who don’t have much of a selection at the moment) and the other is UK based Silk Road’s End (whose website is currently being rebuilt). Both sellers I know personally, some of the Shayukh also obtain their scents from these two sellers and are regarded as having some of the finest stock of oud, rose, musk and other well known fragrances in both hard form and oil form. I have personally had some really excellent oud from both sellers, exquisite Turkish rose from Uns, Amber 15K, Oud Sufi Special from Silk Road’s End.

For the last few years I have really been into oud (agarwood/aloeswood). Oud, if you have never had it before, can be quite off-putting at first (rather like olives), oud is really earthy, almost smells a bit like a bottled farm-yard but if you stick with it, you are then exposed to the really subtle and complex nuances of this amazing and mystical scent, you soon come to realise why it is referred to as “The King of Perfumes and the Perfume of Kings”.  Every time I have pasted a drop or two of oud on a new initiate, some recoil with a contorted expression of olfactory offence others politely take a sniff, then give me a sideways look that says “what the hell have you just put on my hand dude” and give me one of the those strained but polite smiles through gritted teeth. In nearly all cases, the same people came back to me and say, “wow that is good stuff, where can we get some?” With oud you have to let it settle and mingle with your natural skin oils and then you get a lovely earthy/woody smell with an oh so subtle floral sweetness and a hint of a pine type freshness. Oud is notoriously expensive, the highest grades can be the equivalent of gold and it is very hard to get since all the rich sultans buy it up for their personal stocks. When buying oud, always buy from a seller who knows oud, some general perfume sellers will sell you oud blended with inferior oils and perfumes and pass it off as oud and it will be disappointing and is likely to go stale.

So along comes Kamran with some gazelle musk to give to our other friend Tokeer (also from Peterborough and the guy doing all the good work in distributing the the Dal’ail al-Khayrat), Tokeer shares some out and I am instantly hooked, it was a wonderful exquisite fragrance and I had to get me some! So I drop an email to Khalid from Silk Road’s End and ask him to send me some and it arrived in the post yesterday.

Both musk and oud were beloved to the Prophet Muhammad (Allah bless him and grant him peace), both have a mystical and an “other worldly” dimension to them and both are very different and yet share some of the same fragrance characteristics and nuances. I described my interpretation of the smell of oud above, the description of musk is the same but the smell is quite different. It doesn’t have the hint of pine of oud, it is probably less “earthy”, a bit more floral and is a sweeter smell although not sickly sweet as I don’t like really very sweet smells. Musk’s pleasant out of the bottle fragrance is immediately appreciable as opposed to oud and so it is something you can wear everyday without fear of assailing your work colleagues’ sensitive nasal tracts.

For those looking to try a perfume other than the run of the mill ones or your usual high street ones, I heartily recommend gazelle musk from Silk Road’s End it costs about £25 for 1/4 of a tola (about 11.5 grams) you will love it and it will be the best £25 you will spend.

We have breakfast, we go for a walk around the hotel (Pearl Continental, Bhurban) grounds, kids make use of the swimming pool. At the checkout a Brit-Pak from Manchester gets irate at some guy jumping in front of him, good on him for making the point. People here seem to think that they can push to the front of the queue, there is no regard for convention nor manners, again it comes back to selfishness. I commended the brother on his resolve and vociferous defence of decency. I had some guy behind me holding out his key-card and trying to get the attention of the clerk, I didn’t say anything preferring to wait and see if the clerk would serve him first and then would take the lead from my Mancunian Brit-Pak brother, thankfully the clerk served me first, and I heard noticeable tut of disappointment from the chap. We check-out of the hotel and head for Muree Mall Road.

Muree, noted for its cool climate,� shopping and its world famous brewery (they still make beer here!), this is where the British used to hang out in the days of the Raj and there is a rather elegant and generally well maintained church just off Mall Road. However, Muree is a dump and an unpleasant smell of an open sewer hangs in the air. Yes, other parts of it are nice, nice views and foliage etc., but it is a hovel and extremely crowded with gangs of child-beggars roaming and hassling the tourists. I have been here on a few occasions previously and it hasn’t improved one bit, the arrival of KFC is the only sign of “progress”. For me the novelty of Murree has totally worn off as had the novelty of PC Bhurban, I won’t be coming here again.

An hour or so later we set off to Islamabad and then back to Mirpur.

At 11pm the electricity went out and we had a heavy tropical storm, gale-force winds with dust and followed by lightening, thunder and torrential rain which stung when it hit you. Thankfully, the storm cleared the air as it was hot and muggy, the heat was like someone having a heater on right next you. The storm was a spectacle and I sat in my in-laws’ porch observing it. The gust of wind was very cool, it had a chill to it, the noise all around was cacophonous and after the swirling dust, the rain lashed down in sheets. This continued for about 40 minutes and I enjoyed every minute of it.

The electricity was out until 2am.

Pakistan day 16 10th Aug

Thoughts on Pakistan

I should really write this at the end of my visit but I have been in Pakistan for just over two weeks, and I think two weeks, for me,� is enough really. I am really looking forward to getting back, you have a renewed appreciation for Britain after visiting Pakistan (in fact, not just Pakistan any country, even Western countries). If not for my wife I really would have no reason to visit Pakistan even though I have family here myself. Don’t get me wrong, we have some wonderful people in both our families, my life would be poorer for not having met or known them. I have renewed family ties and met new family members, however, almost everything else in Pakistan leaves me frustrated and angry.� The main government sponsored slogan on roadsides is “faith, unity, discipline” – you see this everywhere in Islamabad, this is not what defines Pakistan and Pakistanis, it is an aspiration that isn’t about to be realised any time soon. You can’t engender those values just by a few roadside sculptures and slogans, a deep systemic change is required, from root to branch, from the basic institutions to the governmental

In Islamabad yesterday, I saw a poster with the words of Muhammad Ali Jinnah, the founder of Pakistan,� who in 1947 said “we must fight corruption and bribery with an iron fist” and 62 years on, there is no sign of any iron fist, officials and politicians pussy-foot around the issue; Jinnah must be turning in his grave. In fact if you are not “on the take” then you are considered some kind of weirdo, treated like a pariah and shunned. Taking a bribe has become the norm, part and parcel of the daily life of official institutions. In some cases it may be poverty driven in most cases it is pure greed.

The utter shame of it all is that God has blessed Pakistan with so much naturally – oil, gas, minerals, water, every kind of seasonal fruit, vegetables and cereal, a population with so much potential that if guided and educated can achieve great things. It has every conceivable climate from mountain snow to desert sand with lush greenery, lakes and rivers.

Pakistan could be one of the top tourist destinations if a number of things are sorted out. Infrastructure is of prime importance for any economy – roads, power, water, communication. Roads and Power are both a shambles, the road contractors find ways of skimming the contract money to maximise profits at the expense of quality. They use substandard materials and labour and add a thinner than required tarmac surface which after a year or so begins to crack and slip.

The power was privatised under Benazir Bhutto and since then there has been a severe shortfall in the supply. Even under Musharraf this was not remedied and the whole of Pakistan is suffering as a result.

Pakistanis often blame America, India and the favourite enemy of post-modern Muslims “the Jews” meaning Zionist Israel, whilst none of the aforementioned have any special love for Pakistan, they have become a diversionary device for Pakistan’s problems. For politicians this is a godsend, instead on focussing on their own failures and derelictions of duty as “elected” officials, a mention of any one of the three aforementioned “enemies” conveniently moves the discussion away from politicians� and their failures and the population has swallowed this hook, line and sinker. Only when Pakistan and Pakistanis take responsibility for their own problems, will they fix those problems and move forward.

I realise my observations are based on a small fraction of Pakistan but I can’t imagine the rest of Pakistan being any better.

Pakistan day 17 11th Aug

Went to bed at 3am waiting for the electricity to return after it went at 11pm yesterday night. Sat outside and waited and waited. It was stiflingly hot and unbearable inside. The power company teased us a couple of times by flickering the power a couple times for a few seconds.

Was up at 9.30am, really tired but can’t sleep.

At 2.00pm took the family to apply for NADRA NICOP – National Identity Cards for Overseas Pakistanis, we qualify for them due to parentage and they make it easier to travel Pakistan visa free. This is especially important and useful for my wife whose parents are both elderly and not in the best of health and any number of emergencies could require her to travel to Pakistan at short notice.

I was mildly surprised to see the NADRA process run very smoothly and efficiently. I expected typical third world bureaucracy and a couple of hours wait, we managed to complete the application process for the five of us in around an hour; the system works!

As a side note, I have been told that the whole NADRA initiative was at the behest of the then US Bush Government and personal bio-data is given to interested US agencies for “counter-terrorism purposes”, make of that what you will.

Pakistan day 18 12th Aug

Wow, no interruption to electricity supply at all yesterday and none overnight. There were rumours that the supply will be cut from 7am to 5pm today and tomorrow, it’s 1.45pm and the supply is up.

Took the kids swimming at the Regency Hotel in Mirpur, it’s plush and fancy but can’t imagine it being full most of the time, seems kind of deserted. The swimming pool is decent, pool side is hot and humid.

Had some pizza from the hotel’s restaurant and was surprised at how good it was.

Pakistan day 19 13th Aug

Went to Kahri-Sharif to the shrines of Pir-O-Shah Ghazi and his descendent Mian Muhammad Baksh who is considered the Rumi of Kashmir, such was his poetry and in particular his magnum opus Saiful-Muluk.

The Tomb of Mian Muhammad Baksh

The beggars swarm around you, spouting well rehearsed lines, I’ve learned to ignore them, their persistence makes me more stubborn against them, if you give-in to one then all of them harangue you. So best to not even engage them in conversation. With regards to beggars and begging I have noticed a lot less this time around compared with 8 years ago. Previously, being accosted by beggars was a daily occurrence.

The shrine area is now part of the AJK Government Awqaf (Trust) and is well maintained and the shrines a beautifully decorated if a little glittery. I pray fatihah at both shrines. I notice a few people kissing and touching the tomb but I don’t see anyone “worshipping” the grave as is commonly alleged by certain sectarian mouthpieces.

Pir-o-Shah Ghazi, Kahri-Shareef

The Dome

Mian Muhammad Baksh

Pakistan day 20 14th Aug

One day to go before we leave for home. All my wife’s family turn out to bid us farewell as we head for Islamabad, our flight is at 5.30am on Saturday and we have been invited for lunch around another relative’s house in Islamabad. This relative is a retired Brigadier who is a son of one of the cousins of my father, he is also related to my wife through marriage. They live in an army residential estate, green and leafy and very quiet. The house is nice, large and has a garden, the house is well designed and we find the house quite cool even without air-con.

***

On this trip I bonded with a lot of the kids in the family, many of them were looking forward to khalu (the word for “uncle” meaning maternal aunt’s husband) Masud’s visit, as some of them remember me from my previous visit when they were 6/7/8/9 years old. In the family I am the entertaining uncle, I have a few “magic” tricks that kids love, I can juggle (just about)� and so tend to leave a lasting impression on them. Those kids are now almost young adults and whilst we joke and laugh, we also discuss more serious topics and, as I mentioned before, I am impressed with their maturity and lucidness and coherence of thought, even if perhaps their ideas are a little simplistic and narrow.

Yesterday, I was talking to Zartasha, my wife’s cousin’s daughter, she is about 12 years old, and she had a clear idea of what she wanted to be, “a doctor” she told me, with full conviction she said that she wanted to help people especially the poor. She lamented the fact that a lot of people in Pakistan seem to be selfish, she told me that she thought that Islam was followed with more conviction in England and America than in Pakistan and this upset her greatly. I was impressed by her confidence and maturity of thought which you don’t find that often in kids of a similar age in the UK.

***

Independence Day

Today, 14th August is the day Pakistan was born in 1947, it was the day when it became free from India and British Rule with much sacrifice, bloodshed and strife. Much merriment and celebration is made, flags are waved, people are happy and all their worries for one day are put on the back burner. Nationalism and patriotism are the order of the day, young men – three to a motorbike – race others and wave flags, radio shows play “patriotic” songs and talk about the day, repeat various words and speeches of Qa’id-e-Azam -� Muhammad Ali Jinnah -� people are invited on the shows to comment and sing; the national party is in full swing. Official buildings are adorned with lights, this is particularly distasteful and somewhat ironic considering the frailty of the electricity supply and “load shedding”, it’s a slap in face to see such frivolous waste of resource at a time when the whole country is suffering.

The sad reality is that Pakistan is not independent or free. It is a slave to foreign powers and is also being eaten from within by corrupt politicians and institutions, the feudal lords have many people enslaved in the worst imaginable conditions and circumstances. Most people in Pakistan are no better off, their predicament would be the same even if they were still part of India, in fact, it could be argued that they would have been better off as Indians.

Yawm-e-Azadi is a sedative for the masses, a get out of jail card for the politicians who whip up a nationalistic fervour to hide their inadequacies and failures, “no matter what, we are Pakistanis”, “we have an atom bomb”, “God Himself is running our affairs” – really? Don’t you guys recognise Divine warnings and punishment?

***

We decided to try and take the kids to McDonald’s in Rawalpindi that evening as it is our last day in Muslim country where we could have a McD’s burger, but with all the celebrations going on it is going to be difficult. We end up at Rahat Bakers in Saddar. Rahat Bakers is considered one of the best bakeries in Pakistan and I was impressed. It was very modern, very clean. Cakes, breads, pizza, roast, Bombay mix, ice cream and other goodies all looked fantastic. We buy a few items and I have to say the quality was excellent.

This was another thing I noticed, may businesses that are either old family business have gone up a few levels in their professionalism and presentation. The same is true a number of new business, their corporate identities are slick, their shops are clean and glitzy and deliver a very good shopping experience. Shops like Junaid Jamshed, H. Karim Baksh, Khaddi, Gul Ahmed, Chen One and a host of other retailers have really raised the bar for businesses in Pakistan to a new level.

Anyway, we try in vain to reach McD’s but can’t get near the place and decide to leave it, much to the disappointment of the kids and me too, after three weeks of standard south Asian fare, I could have done with something else! We head to my elder mother-in-law’s house where we will try and get a couple of hours sleep before we go to the airport to catch our flight at 05:30am.

Pakistan day 21 15th Aug

Decided to just snooze on my mother-in-law’s sofa (couch) rather then go into a deep sleep on a bed. Besides, it is really hot and humid and not conducive to a good sleep. I drift in and out of sleep. We head out at 2.30am, the kids are drowsy, my daughter is still asleep but partially wakes up as we get in the car, she is not happy and a fight ensues, she manages to calm down and properly wake up.

At the airport we are quite literally the last people to check-in, a family arrives after us and are told that there are no more seats on the flight, I think we got lucky, alhamdulillah.

The flight back was pretty uneventful apart from sitting near someone from my Aylesbury that I was acquainted with. The stopover in Doha was� a couple of hours and we were on our way.

Back in Heathrow, I noticed a young western lady in the queue for passport control behind us and she looked very familiar. It then clicked that this was Jemima Khan nee Goldsmith, the ex-wife of cricketer turned politician Imran Khan. I nudged my wife and told her that Jemima was in the queue, she joked “trust you to find a pretty young lady in the queue” (!!!). My wife looked over to her and said hi, Jemima responded quite warmly and with no hint of haughtiness or� pride, it was a genuine and humble acknowledgement, she looked utterly ordinary and not what we come ot expect of celebrities. Jemima still enjoys a cordial relationship with her ex-husband, and it is said that she still holds affection for Pakistan. I think perhaps she was in Pakistan for the 14th August Yawm-e-Azadi celebrations.

Passport control is busy, Jemima discovers she can use the business class and VIP queue and heads off; lucky her. Takes an hour for us to get through passport control. Once through we head off to claim our baggage.

Our baggage starts to appear after about 10 minutes of waiting, “yes” I think, we should be out of here in no time. All bags come through and we are waiting on the last one. And we wait, and wait, and wait…the same three bags go around and around on the carousel, none of them our missing one. This is a classic case of “counting your chickens before they hatch”. I get a ‘phone call from my brother, who is picking us up, I decide to send my wife and kids out while I talk to the baggage handling company about our missing piece of luggage.

It turns out that our missing suitcase is on their system, it didn’t get transferred to our connecting flight and is expected on the next flight in. I am told that it will be sent to us on Monday.

We are absolutely shattered, the tiredness of the return journey catches up on us, I am determined to stay awake until our normal bedtime, it is only 5pm, luckily my team Arsenal are playing today against Everton in the opening Premiership fixture of the new season, so that will help me stay awake for a couple of hours. It’s a great result in celebration of my return to the UK, Arsenal thrash Everton 6-1 in an excellent attacking display, with new boy central defender Thomas Vermalen in a composed and authoritative debut game, the new season looks promising for Arsenal.

***

So all in all, I enjoyed my trip to Pakistan, I would have loved to have done more travelling and a lot more photography than I did, but family commitments and reliance on others for transportation doesn’t make for a good sight-seeing trip. On top of that, the weather is a major factor in preventing travel, it flitted between blazing heat and humidity to torrential rain. I think the next time we go to Pakistan it will be in the school Easter holidays for two week, when the weather is mild and pleasant.

Pakistan is a wonderful place if its shortcomings are overlooked, the problem is that the shortcomings are so “in your face” and all too common that it is not easy to overlook them, the irony is that Pakistanis themselves have for a long time buried their heads in the sand and either don’t see the shortcomings at all or just choose to ignore them because to acknowledge them would mean that they would have to deal with them, and they are not in a position to deal with them.

I hope and pray that Pakistan is delivered from those who are eating and corrupting it from within and from those who are damaging and injuring it from without, greatness truly awaits Pakistan and Pakistanis if they are but patient and upright. Pakistan is littered with pockets of barakah (blessing) and khayr (goodness) which you can feel and experience, I see this in some of its people and in some of its places, there are true Sufis amongst the charlatans and brigands who don their attire and sully their names and this noble tradition, then there the ordinary people who have such deep and unshakeable faith, who are selfless and giving and have utter reliance on God, who do not take from the forbidden and will suffer personal loss in place of disobedience to God. It is these people who are truly sincere and faithful to the land of their birth and their forebears. Then there are the Sufi tombs and shrines littered the length and breadth of the nation, tombs and shrines of those ancient saints who were the means by which Islam spread in these lands, to whom those of us from this region owe our Islam to and our eternal gratitude that were were delivered from polytheism and into tawhid. JazakAllahu-kharan one and all.

May Allah bless and raise Pakistan from this nadir which it has languished in for too long, may Allah, grant sincerity to the people and those who are put in positions of power and make their faith and duty unshakeable.

And Allah is All Seeing and all Knowing and Bestower of gifts and Remover of cares.

Me in Pakistan

Oh dear, this morning my stomach seems to have finally given in to the battering of the sub-continent diet. I don’t think I need to elaborate further. It held out for an impressive 8 days, I expected it to last a couple of days at the most. It had been firing warning shots for the last few days so I knew it was about to surrender. So far I had been very careful about what I have been eating and drinking. I think a kebab I had at lunchtime yesterday around a relative’s house may have done it. As soon as I ate it I knew that it would set me off.

I decided to have a a solitary cup of tea for breakfast and see if I can finish the battle quickly. My pre-emptive action seemed to have worked and for the rest of the day it no longer troubles me; the battle, it seems, has been won but the war goes on.

Fabric Galleria, Crown Plaza, Mirpur

My youngest brother-in-law, Sarmad Mushtaq, has recently opened up a clothes shop in Mirpur which specialises in fancy material from which women’s shalwar kameez is made.

I offered to take photographs of the shop and some of his suits so he could use it for leaflets and other marketing purposes. I spent a good couple of hours taking the photos and attracted a bit of attention from passers by and other shopkeepers too.

My brother-in-law, Sarmad, and his shop

If any of you reading this ever visit Mirpur please drop in and see if anything takes your fancy at The Fabric Galleria, Crown Plaza, Alama Iqbal Road, Mirpur.

Tomorrow we are heading to our family village Bal-Jaghir.

Pakistan day 9 3rd Aug

We set off for our ancestral village, Bal-Jaghir, my youngest brother-in-law, Sarmad, drives us. Our ancestors migrated there from Srinagar 2-300 years ago, but first we go to Sader where my father’s eldest sister lives and who is married to my mother’s half-brother.

Sader, Azad Jammu & Kashmir, Pakistan

Everyone is pleased to see us. This is also my mother’s village where she grew up and where her parents are buried. My maternal grandmother, Amina Bi Bi, passed away when my mother was just three years old, she never got to know her and has no clear memories of her. My mother was raised by her step-mother who was a saintly woman and looked after my mother as her own. We visited the graves of my maternal grandfather and his two wives and prayed fatihah for them.

The Grave of my Maternal Grandmother, Amina Bibi

We have lunch, my aunt is rightly annoyed that we are not going to be spending the night, I explained that we are on a tight schedule and it would be too difficult for the kids, reluctantly she relents, I feel a little ashamed that we couldn’t stay longer.

My boys have been dreading coming to the village with perpetual complaints of “I’m bored”, and “there’s nothing to do” Pakistan was a big cultural shock for them anyway, and the villages an even bigger one. In Mirpur there are cousins their own age and some fun things to do, so I can’t be too harsh on them. I fully explained to them the importance of our visit and asked them not complain. Benni, my youngest son, generally has complained less than his older brother Yusef who seems to complain about everything.

Our village Bal-Jaghir is about 20mins in a car from Sader. The roads have improved slightly and whereas before we would have had a good 20mins walk across cornfields and hilly terrain, we now have a road that takes us right to the door of our village house. Along the way I notice a few hoopoes, I have never noticed these elegant and distinctive birds before in all my previous visits.

My Cousin Nasir, his daughter and their buffalo

We arrive at 6.30pm and it is very humid, I don’t ever remember it being this humid and there is no electricity. The electricity supply is very poor, stays on for an hour or so and then goes for a couple of hours or more. The elders of the village say that the weather is changing and many of them think that it is because of the arrival of electricity cables in the village. In some ways their assessment is poignant, since progress and development is considered the root cause of global warming. Our village is set in mountainous greenery, the main staples are wheat and corn. There are buffalo, goats and chickens everywhere. Where it not for the heat, humidity and electricity supply problems, I could quite easily stay here for a few days, as it is we stay one night only.

Jinns?

I prayed my Isha prayer and stayed sat on the prayer mat to complete some dhikr with tasbih in hand. To the right of me in the courtyard is a gate that leads to the outside. My cousin walks over to open it to check on the buffalo, my daughter walks up to me and whispers in my ear “abu [daddy], there are two human beings wearing hats over there and they don’t like you” and looked towards the gate, I didn’t see anyone there. Not sure what my daughter saw but the whole of Azad Jammu and Kashmir is filled with ghostly stories of people coming face to face with Jinns.

My cousin’s wife, Afsana, tells us that when she went to visit the graves of my uncle and his wife and their son Rashad, she slipped and broke her leg, she is convinced that she did not fall that badly to have broken it. The day she broke it she called out in a wailing voice to people to come and help, that night, people heard similar wailing from the area around the graves in the same voice as my cousin’s wife and this happened a few nights in a row until a local elder, expert in such matters, remedied the situation.

In an unrelated story, my brother-in-law Yasir (my wife’s half brother) told me that one dark night, whilst driving from Kuhiratta to Rawalpindi he had some car trouble. The journey is a typical mountain journey, winding roads, trees, streams, mountain springs and generally deserted areas. He pulled over to have a look, fixed the problem, and then sat down to have a smoke next to his car. Suddenly the back door opened and closed with no sign of anyone near him. He had a look around and didn’t see anyone or anything and got back in to resume is journey. He then said that suddenly he had an urge to drive off the cliff and then an urge not to, this continued for a few minutes and stopped when a truck came up behind him, it started again as the truck passed him. He decided to speed up to get in front of the truck, all the while he said there seemed to be a battle going in him between something that wanted to drive off the cliff and something that was trying to prevent it. He managed to get in front of the truck and stay in his headlights, the truck tried to overtake but Yasir wouldn’t let it, much to the truck driver’s annoyance. Yasir recited Ayatal-Kursi and the four Quls and then pulled over at the next town. The truck driver pulled over too and came to ask him what the problem was. When Yasir explained the truck driver knowingly said “we keep our windows up and try not to stop in these parts”.

My father-in-law also related a story from his childhood, he went hunting with his older brother in a forest, whilst in the forest he saw a solitary horse. This was unusually as there were no wild horses or otherwise in that part of the forest. He said to his brother “look paapa, a horse”, his brother said to him “just keep walking and don’t look”, my father-in-law said that as he looked at the horse it turned into a buffalo before his eyes, he said to his brother “paapa, it turned into a buffalo”, his brother said “I told you stay on the path, don’t look and keep walking”, so my father-in-law did. When they got home, he asked his brother “what was that in the forest”, his brother replied “it was a jinn you silly boy”, my father-in-law asked “why didn’t you tell me!”, to which his brother replied “if I had told you it would have caught you”.

Upon our return to the UK, we heard news of another jinn related incident that happened to one of my wife’s nieces, by the name of Safa. She is one my wife’s eldest sister’s daughter who is one of twins, suddenly changed character. Ordinarily she is a shy and retiring young girl, very polite and very reserved. This started in Islamabad and upon their return to Mirpur my wife’s niece was clearly not herself. She told people that she had come from Mecca and would be staying a short while. She would tell people to pray five times a day, she addressed an uncle as “Ejaz sahab” and told him to pray, she would normally call him by the title “khalu” maternal aunt’s husband. She told people that she would be breaking her fast at a certain person’s house and then will have a cup of tea at “Bubbly’s” house (Bubbly is another sister of my wife) and then she will leave. Surely enough, she ate and broke her fast where she said she would, went for a cup of tea and then announced that she was leaving and told one of the people to open the door and to make sure that no children get in the way, with a convulsion Safa returned to normal, looked around and said “what am I doing here, I was in Islamabad a minute ago?”.

This was witnessed by a lot of people who I know and have spoken to since about it, there is no way it was a prank knowing Safa and the way she normally is.

I heard plenty other stories too, these are all people of sound mind and I have no reason to doubt them. One last thing that I will relate is about my in-laws-house in Mirpur. They had a pious house guest once, who was very perceptive to subtle phenomenon. He told them that part of the house is built on a thoroughfare for jinns, but in this case these jinns are Muslim and as they recite Qur’an and do dhikr as they pass and they protect the family from the other jinns. Perhaps one of those protected Yasir?

****

In the morning I take my kids down to the river called “Moohli” that runs through our land and they thoroughly enjoy the fun and games with all the village kids. There is a make shift water slide on the rocks that the water flows over quite rapidly.

My cousin's daughters, a village girl and my daughter - bottom right

My late grandparents’ house is currently occupied by my father’s nephew, Nasir who his late brother’s son, and his family (wife and 5 kids).  His wife broke her leg a few months ago and is on crutches. Nasir’s brother is currently in England on a work permit and sends home money and my father has been supporting the entire family since his own arrival in the UK in 1965. My father is an amazing individual, not only has he been supporting his parents and siblings both in Pakistan and in the UK, but other extended family members too and particularly people of our village. Even if I could do a small fraction of what my father has achieved it would be a lot and would weigh heavy in my favour on the day of judgement. After my father I am unlikely to have the same deep sense of duty towards of our village, whilst there is a sentimental link, the bond that my father has with it is on another level, augmented by memories and punctuated by key events in his early life. In all my 42 years of life I have only been to Pakistan 6 times.

Born in the UK, my first visit was when I was 3 years old, amazingly I still have memories from that time and they are clear and vivid. I have remembered tastes and smells in particular and enjoyable events. One particular taste I have a vivid memory of is eating “toot”, a kind of mulberry that ripens in spring which I would eat again on my fourth visit. I remember being on the banks of the “Moohli” eating some kind of Bombay mix and my half-sister and a cousin using a dupatta to catch sprats which they later fried up for me to eat.

My second visit was almost 20 years later when I came to Pakistan to get engaged to be married at the age of 21 in the summer of 1989.

My third visit was to then get married at the age of 25, we came in December 1992Â and it snowed in our village for the first time in a long time and boy was it cold.

My fourth visit was to attend the wedding of my younger sister Farhath and that was in spring time 1997.

My fifth visit was the first with just my wife and kids in 2001 and the sixth is my present visit.

If not for my wife I would have no reason to visit Pakistan and the link to my family in Pakistan would probably be non-existent. My father has family interests and business interests in Pakistan, having a share in an office block in Lahore and some plots of land there as well, so I guess because of that I would have some link.

Pakistan day 10 4th Aug

We are on our way to Kotli to stay with my wife’s half-sister, Talat Mushtaq, who is a principal at a girls’ college in Kuhiratta and is married to my father’s first cousin Tariq Mirza who is a lawyer and President of Azad Kashmir District Bar. Our hosts send their driver and a car to pick us up. The driver, it turns out, is related to me. His name is Kashif, and is my mother’s nephew who grew up in Hyderabad. He seems like a nice chap about the same age as my younger brother Da’ud, 9 years my junior. We get to know each other and we seem to establish a bond between us.

We go via Kuhiratta to visit my wife’s cousin, a retired bank section chief, who often stays with us when he visits the UK and recently stayed with us. There were a couple houses we had to visit to pray fatihah because of recent deaths. One death was of the brother of Tariq Mirza, Mehmood Mirza – a majdub.

Mehmood Mirza was an interesting personality, in the 70s he became a majdub – someone lost in and consumed by the Divine reality. He had a very deep interest in and appreciation of Sufi wisdom and philosophy, particularly Mian Muhammad Baksh’s Saif al-Muluk and the philosophy of the late Allama Muhammad Iqbal the poet of Pakistan.

I am told that Sa’i (another word for fakir) Mehmood, as he became known, became spiritually attached to the ways of a Majdub lady called Mai (mother/old lady) Thotthi who died pre-partition and whose shrine is near Kuhiratta in a place called Bandli. She was a kind of latter day Rabia al-Basri. Her spiritual heir was another lady who died a few years ago called Mai Fakiri from whom he derived his spiritual “guidance”. I put “guidance” in inverted commas because in reality there is no guidance from majdubs since they themselves are actually lost in the Divine presence. Their state is experiential and inexplicable. In many cases they are so lost that their mandatory and obligatory acts of worship are not offered or completed.

Mai Fakiri used to adorn herself with iron chains and remained in an other-worldly state. Sa’i Mehmood had a yearning to leave this material world and become a fakir and Mai Fakiri told him that he would have to leave everything behind, suffer abuse from people and endure accusations of madness and mental instability. Before entering into this state he would have to settle all his worldly affairs, seek permission from his mother (my great-aunt), his father having died many years previously. He would also have to seek the approval of his wife and family since they will be the ones who would be the most affected. Having settled his worldly affairs he slipped into the state he sought. I has his youngest brother what process he went through and he told me that they didn’t notice anything in particular that he did differently except visit Mai Fakiri who used to also send him to another shrine, the shrine of Zinda Pir – literally “the living guide”.

Such majdubs are highly regarded in Azad Kashmir even among the elite classes and pretty soon his fame spread such that at the news of his demise, people from far and wide and in their thousands congregated to offer their condolences and prayers. His grave has become a place of visitation.

There is much more to tell of his story and the story of Ma’i Thotthi and Ma’i Fakiri but this is what I have gleaned from short conversations with various people.

***

Thoughts on Kuhiratta

Kuhiratta is much the same as any other town in AJK, filthy, dirty, rubbish everywhere, broken roads, an eyesore with vulgar and showy architecture. We have to walk through a muhalla - a slum, very narrow alleyways where two people can’t pass side by side. The footpaths are a patchwork of unevenness and height, broken in places, waste water standing in others, bordered by gutters and pipework and the ubiquitous litter. The houses are quite literally on top of each other, I feel claustrophobic and a bit sick.

I was walking down the main road of the bazaar and caught sight of a very modern looking build further down the road, it looked totally out of place in the higgledy-piggledy architecture and mess of Kuhiratta. I am told that it is a hospital being built by a philanthropist businessman, who has a textile business in Birmingham. He died earlier this year, the hospital is named in honour of him – Sardar Aziz Hospital. My host, Iftikhar Mirza was amongst his closest friends, and was in England when Aziz sahab passed away. In fact, a day or so before Aziz sahab’s death, he phoned my host to invite him to Birmingham, an invitation annulled by his death.

The hospital is not complete and is not operational. The death of the financier has put a question mark over the project and doubts persist in the minds of people as to whether the inheritors of Aziz Sahab’s wealth will have the same amount of enthusiasm and conviction to see the project through. He has made a percentage of profit provision from his business in his will for the hospital, we hope the family will continue this supreme work that Aziz Sahab has started. I thought about how some people who are given so much realise that the source of all they have is God and likewise spend in his way without a care, whilst others who are equally given so much but withhold and horde for their own benefit and not realising the bounty bestowed upon them from their Lord.

After the maghrib prayer and dinner we head to Kotli where we spend the night.

Pakistan day 11 5th Aug

Kotli is a large city by AJK standards, it has grown from a small town and again like most places in AJK has benefit greatly from ex-pat investment, particularly from Brit-Paks. The same pattern of vulgar houses persists, it seems like everyone is trying to outdo each other in the size and vulgarity of their houses. People spend obscene amounts of money on houses that they probably won’t even live in, some houses lie empty others divided up and put on rent. The only thing these grand houses are built for is so that people will say “wah! What a house built by Raja or Choudry so and so”. Even in remote villages, these houses are totem poles of false-status, it announces the arrival of someone’s wealth even if in reality most of the wealth has been spent on the house. In the case of grand houses in villages, these lie empty and serve no other purpose except to remind the villagers who the “elite” are.

A View of Kotli (apologies for the quality, it was a hazy day)

There is no town planning anywhere, Islamabad has some semblance of planning but it seems that people are free to do as they please when it comes to building. Most places in Pakistan resemble bomb sites, so much dust and rubble, waste grounds and incomplete buildings.

Close Up of the Hot Springs

Late afternoon our hosts take us to Tattha-Pani a town whose name means “Hot Water” and is named after a natural hot sulphurous spring that wells up next to the river Poonch. The water is very hot, short of scalding but very hot. It is clear but has a grey tint to it. The kids are generally unimpressed but I explained that the water is being heated by the earth’s own core and that piqued their interest slightly.

Thatta Pani hot springs.

We headed back had dinner at my wife’s aunts house, and then there was an interruption in the electricity supply at 10pm, a common occurrence during our trip and a major problem nationally.

After dinner we went to eat koya kulfi, Pakistani dairy ice cream. We have koya kulfi in the UK and I enjoy it very much so it would be interesting to compare. The taste and texture was marvellous although it wasn’t as set as I would have liked, the only downside was it was a bit too sweet, and hit the back of your throat. The sugar used was probably raw cane sugar which is much sweeter than the refined variety.

We returned to our hosts’ residence but the electricity was out and so we sat outside observing the lightening across the whole sky, then all of a sudden a cool breeze blew, a welcome relief from the stifling heat of the day.

The electricity came back and we went to sleep.

Back to Mirpur in the morning.

Pakistan day 12 6th Aug

Upon our return to Mirpur, we discover that my in-laws’ house servant has run off and took with him £200 of some money I had given to my father-in-law for safekeeping. Imran had been working for my in-laws for seven years and from a young age, he was almost considered family and my in-laws have been good to him. He had been entrusted with a lot of the family’s affairs without any issue of dishonesty, so it came as a big shock. For a few days he had been mentioning some financial problems that his parents have been having back in his village.

Interestingly, I had given my father-in-law a total of £500 and the wallet from which he took the money contained all £500 and he only took £200.

This put a bit of a dampener on my mood, not because of the money but the violation of trust and how someone so trusted can loose it all in one desperate act.

***

Shab-e-barat, it is the 15th of Shaban and in Pakistan it is celebrated with fireworks, lights and much merriment. People fast, seclude themselves for worship, offer extra prayers in mosques and visit shrines for blessing. The nearest major shrine to Mirpur is Kahri, the shrine of Mian Muhammad Baksh the sufi poet of Kashmir and writer of Saiful-Muluk. Thousands gather there on such occasions, whether to offer prayer as a place of blessing or other more questionable “religious” practices.

It seems that every child is given firecrackers and other more dangerous fireworks and without any adult supervision, no one sees this as an issue and if an incident occurs then it is brushed aside with a “be more careful next time” comment. As the evening progresses a rain storm breaks and a deluge follows.

Rain and thunderstorms are regular now as we are in the season of barsaat – the monsoon season.

Pakistan day 13 7th Aug

In the evening we are invited to an aqiqa. Pretty straightforward, we arrive, we talk, we eat and drink, we talk some more and we leave.

My wife’s cousin’s son Mohib aka “Bittu” is a mobile telecoms engineer, I mentioned to him that I need to check my emails to clear out the junk but speeds seemed slow, he took me to his office which was where the main internet feed for Mirpur comes in. The speed was good and I managed to tag my junk mails. Unfortunately I hadn’t the time to read any emails so I’ll have a few hundred mails to get through when I get back.

***

Pakistan day 14 8th Aug

Plan to go to Muree, heading to the Pearl Continental in Bhurban, the kids have been bugging us to take them. It’s a 5 star hotel in the Muree Mountains. I stayed there with my wife and son Yusef when he was a year old.

Shawls on the way to Muree

Muree is cold. A/C is off and windows up in the car, it’s like being back in Blighty. The road up is lined by colourful displays of shawls, carpets, kids’ umbrellas and even laptop computers for sale!

Carpets on the roadside

The traffic has increased noticeably since I was last here 8 years ago, the journey up is stop/start.

PC Bhurban is a high value target for terrorism and they are stopping everyone at a perimeter and charging 400RS entrance which is redeemable against any hotel bill. We manage to get in but get told no rooms are available.

Some last minute cancellations have yielded a couple of rooms. PC was once a bargain 5 star resort but now, prices have gone up and standards have noticeably gone down, if not for the kids I could have done without it to be frank.

It is busy, almost bursting at the seams with holiday makers,others from nearby towns and cities getting away from the heat and revellers. Clearly, there is a lot of disposable income in Pakistan, the previous couple of times we have been the place has been mainly frequented by foreign officials, national officials and foreign holiday makers, now there are all sorts of people. There is a lot of money swilling around in Pakistan, where it comes from is anybody’s guess.

Pakistan Trip, Day 0: Saturday 25th July 2009

Going to Pakistan after 8 years. Went in 2001 came back just before 911. Early start 1015 from Gatwick, Qatar Airways Islamabad via Doha. Hardly slept a wink, stress of travel and excitement of going to Pakistan and seeing my wife and kids after two weeks. On the ‘plane sat next to Michael (West Indian) from South London a fellow Gooner (Arsenal fan) going to Doha for the first time. Watched Monsters v Aliens, very enjoyable. Food: lamb biriyani, OK but nothing to write home about. Flight attendant Wilson from Kenya was a Chelsea fan. I commented on how Wilson looked more west African than East. Doha is hot and humid, you are met with a wall of heat and humidity as you leave the ‘plane. In the departure lounge at Doha got chatting to a middle-aged American couple, nice people, going to Pakistan for the first time. It would seem that despite the perceived dangers, Pakistan still attracts interest and visitors. Didn’t talk in any great detail, spoke about Obama and how he seems to be getting it right with the Muslim world in comparison to Bush. The gentleman was in agreement. On the flight from Doha to Islamabad sat next to a chap called Brian from Colorado USA, software trainer from a company called Xpect Software which specialises in a database systems of interest to governments, didn’t go into detail but I think it is a data warehousing, trending and data extraction application, the company’s strap-line is “Knowledge is Power). Going to Pakistan for the first time to train up people in the software. Seemed to be looking forward to visiting. Gave him some hints and tips and suggestions for his visit, suggested he purchase some rugs and pashmina shawls. Spoke about general things and about Islam and America. Told me he had his first child on the way. He had an excellent sense of humour and was an enjoyable travel companion.

Pakistan Trip, Day 1: Sunday 26th July

Arrived in Islamabad at 4 am, Islamabad Benazir Bhutto International Airport. It’s hot and humid though not as much as Doha. Surprisingly not that tired, managed to get a snooze on the plane. Islamabad Benazir Bhutto International Airport is a dump, needs demolishing and rebuilding, BB is probably turning in her grave. Islamabad is the capital, all the foreign embassies are here, it is an international city, such a shame and disgrace that your first impression is a dump of an airport. Typically, the immigration control is chaotic, no control of who should go where even though the queues are clearly marked, the airport police said to just join any queue. Takes the better part of an hour to get past the border control. Getting the luggage takes another hour or so. First pieces of luggage arrive within 10 mins last piece takes 40 mins or so. Was approached by a sister asked me if I was “sidi Mas’ud”, I think she said her name was Maryam from London. She said she was attending her cousin’s wedding and was going to be missing out on all the summer events, I told her that sometimes it is far more important to attend family occasions and strengthen family ties. Benni my youngest son couldn’t sleep and came to receive me with my dad’s cousin who, incidentally is my wife’s brother-in-law and shares the same first name as me. Arrived at my father-in-law’s first wife’s house (not my wife’s mother) just before 6.30 am. Still not feeling tired but prayed fajr and got in bed. Yusef my eldest stirred and sleepily extended his hand and gave me salams. Boys didn’t show it but they missed me too. I was awoken at 9.00am by my daughter Sumayya’s hugs and kisses, she really missed me. The electricity was off due to “load shedding” so it was hot and muggy. I’m told that there is a supply issue in all of Paksitan. Not having visited for 8 years people were very pleased to see me, kids who were 10/11 years old were now young adults and it was great to see them. Falaq, my wife’s niece, used to be a very shy little girl was now a confident young woman at university and hoping to do an MBA after her BA studies.

After a quick breakfast went out with the Mrs, her sister and bro-in-law to go shopping and to check out some prayer rugs for my Mihrabi.com venture. Popped into a place called Carpet Palace, quite a big shop and quite a selection. We then went to my usual supplier who has a much smaller shop but his prices were much keener and he was much more welcoming. I hadn’t intended to buy anything at the time but ended up selecting about 20 prayer rugs and 5 normal rugs. Check out Mihrabi.com for the selection.

My rug supplier for Mihrabi.com

We ate at Pizza Hut and was surprised at how good it was. They also had a much fuller menu than what we have in the UK. Later in the evening we ate at a Chinese restaurant Mei Kong, not the best Chinese food I have had but it was nice, clean and fancy. Kids really enjoyed it, for 3500RS (about £30) 15 people ate fairly well. We then hit the road and headed for Mirpur where my wife’s parents live and where we would be spending most of our time.

Pakistan Trip, Day 2: Monday 27th July

Arrived after midnight in Mirpur and went straight to bed. The tiredness of my travels has finally caught up with me. Slept well, in a room with an aircon unit. Electricity went at about 7am. The supply from Mirpur comes from the Mangla Dam, I am told that there has been a problem that the “motors” had burned out and they are being fixed and the supply is intermittently interrupted to allow for the maintenance work to be carried out. The supply remained interrupted until 2.30pm but the work had permanently fixed the issue.

Panorama of Mirpur, Azad Jammu and Kashmir

Sat down with some young cousins and nephews, spoke about politics, Islam and other stuff. Kids here seem to be much more aware of politics and world affairs than Brit kids of a similar educational levels and ages. Even though their knowledge is not wholly accurate. They have a seriousness and maturity of discourse that is lacking in Brits kids.

As with most of the Muslim world, they are fixated with America and “the Jews” and how Israel controls the US. I conceded that perhaps that there are Jews who are in positions of power and influence in the US political system and corporate America, but, I argued, they are not there because of some conspiracy, they are there on merit, they are there because they were the best people for the job. Now, if they favour Israel and use that influence in Israel’s favour then that is no more than a Muslim would do (or should do) for the ummah.

The rest of the day pretty uneventful apart from taking photos of my rugs and prayer rugs.

Observation on architecture and town planning in Mirpur:

It is total anarchy, houses are big concrete monstrosities with no thought to aesthetics. On a plot of land, people will build a house on the entirety of the land and without any thought of a garden. It’s all about making a statement, make it big and let everyone know you have money. The houses, in general, are vulgar, classic nouveau riche syndrome. There is an inherent selfishness in the way people build houses, there is no thought given to the road outside or the neighbour.

Tomorrow off on a road trip, Rawalakot, Banjosa and that general area.

Pakistan Trip, Day 3: Tuesday 28th July

Awoke at 4.30am to flashes of lightening, hardly any sounds of thunder, just a distant rumble now and again. Got ready for fajr and went back to sleep, up at 8, we are off on a road trip at 11am. We have arranged two Toyota HiAces and we are about 27 people including kids and the two drivers. This is how we roll in Pakistan!

Typical Pakistani efficiency, no sign of our transport, we are told it will be late. So go off to see if I can get my Blackberry unlocked, no luck went to 2 places, would take a few hours and it would wipe my phone. So have to spend a few more days unconnected, no great loss, I enjoy not having the hassle and stress of constant connectivity. We are far too connected in the modern, we need to unplug to regain our sanity.

Finally we set off at 1.45pm heading to Kotli for lunch at a relative’s house and then on the journey proper. The journey is bumpy, twisty, windy across hills and low lying mountain passes, the journey to come will be more of the same only higher up.

A river near Dadyal, AJK

We set off from Kotli later than we had hoped, as we visited some relatives, I visited my late grandfather’s half-sister who is in her 90s and has been incapacitated from a stroke from a few years ago and had lost her son recently (who was a majdub, will be writing about this further down). I have met her on a few occasions before and even though I don’t have many memories of her, the mere fact that she is my great aunt (my paternal grandfather’s half-sister) I feel a deep love and affinity for her, may Allah grant her ease in whatever form He chooses.

We finally set off at 6pm, the trip to come is going to be 4 hours of potentially very dangerous driving in diminishing light across ever ascending mountain roads that are not properly tarmacked or maintained, with sharp hairpin bends, rocks, trucks, other buses, pedestrians and vehicles oh and goats and cattle too.

I settle down and plug in my iPhone and listen to Sh Hamza’s lecture on Vision of Islam.

Rest House Outside Rawalakot

We arrive at a rest house outside of Rawalakot at around 9.30pm. It is pleasant but by no means luxurious. It is clean and comfortable and is set in very nice mountain surroundings and private, it’s just the 27 people of my wife’s family. It is quite cool and there is pleasant chill in the air. Temp has gone from a humid 40c to about 18c and dry.

Next excursion is to a place called Toli Pir, a mountain summit that is a place of outstanding natural beauty at 10500 ft above sea level.

Pakistan Trip, Day 4: Wednesday 29th July

After breakfast off to Toli Pir, it’s about 1 hour away. Journey pretty uneventful apart from some close to the edge encounters with mountain edges, not normally scared but I was certainly unnerved.

We stopped at a rest house perched on a hill, it was quite a picturesque place, the rest house disgusting though in a woeful state of disrepair and could do with a deep deep clean.

Panorama of the rest house near Toli Pir

Thought: Pakistan has so much to offer tourists, wonderful and breathtaking scenery, great range of food, cultural variations every few kilometers, historical architecture, excellent seasonal fruit, great shopping, handicrafts, carpets and rugs, every imaginable climate from desert to snow-capped mountains. In some cases you can have all four seasons in one day and that is no exaggeration. A number of things beset Pakistan’s aspiration for becoming a top tourist destination (aside from the current terrorist threat) – road infrastructure, stable electricity supply and general hygiene and cleanliness. Road infrastructure is improving, but the electricity issue is not. These things coupled with political instability, also prevent Pakistan becoming a top economic force which, I believe, is eminently possible. Hygiene and cleanliness is a big problem, and I have no idea why. Cleanliness is a part of Islam, the name Pakistan alludes to being a place of cleanliness and ritual purity and yet this is not reflected in the population. It could be argued that this is an issue of poverty and/or education, but I believe, and I have witnessed this anecdotally, that even rich and educated Pakistanis have little regard for this, therefore I believe it is an issue of attitude.

***

Arrived at the base of Toli Pir, it looks vast, lots of greenery. I can’t believe the amount of rubbish that has accumulated, I have noticed that there is no concept of proper and controlled waste disposal amongst the general public (let alone the government). It seems everyone from the lower, poorer classes to the higher bourgeoisie educated and moneyed classes deem it a right to litter and just throw rubbish anywhere. I have seen people build vast, luxurious and opulent houses akin to palaces and yet they empty their household rubbish pretty much on their doorstep or on the vacant plot next door. In most cases the local municipal authority provides no waste collection or disposal and this in turn is because people will not pay local taxes. There are two simple solutions to reduce household waste – incineration and composting but I guess it is easier to just empty your bin on the street. I mentioned this to my wife and she pointed out that there are people who make a living out of rummaging through such household waste looking for plastic bottles, bags and wrappers, tin and metallic objects and anything else they can salvage to sell. She said “Pakistanis have been recycling for years!”, she has a point, but, I argued, the organic waste matter gives rise to vermin and rodents and that leads to health issues.

My 14 year old son Yusef had a wrapper that he wanted to dispose of, he said to me “I’ll just throw it on the floor like everyone else” I told him that, that is not a good idea and as Muslims we should not pollute our environment needlessly and that he should place it in a bin regardless of whether the contents of the bin end up on the floor by someone else’s hand. He then came to the realisation “then I guess it is not good for your soul to litter” I was impressed at his conclusion.

Later that evening I discussed the issue of littering with one of the organisers of our trip, my wife’s cousin’s son Fayaz aka Bubloo (educated, well paid accountant and worldly). I told him that the simple issue of littering is indicative of the general malaise in Pakistani society. It boils down to selfishness and disregard for what Allah has entrusted to us. Even animals do not pollute their environment and when they do it is a sign of a serious underlying sickness.

Toli Pir Ascent

Back to Toli Pir – it was a gradual ascent on foot and we had to stop a couple times to take a breath and gather the kids. The views on the way up were pretty breathtaking and reaching the plateau near the summit was even more so, down in the distance was a river snaking its way through the mountain range, the river looked dry, my guess is that it is due to the summer months or the water has been blocked to allow for the massive road building to go ahead. The plateau was a field of grass, clouds drifted past beneath us and wisps of ghostly vapour floated past suspended in the air. The view was truly stunning, it was cool without a chill and the air was fresh. There were a lot of other tourists and families but there was a serenity that one could find a spot and seclude oneself for a few hours in contemplation and remembrance of God.

We sat and ate mangoes and peaches for a couple of hours and wandered around taking in the vista. Then we descended and headed to Banjosa another natural beauty spot. I visited Banjosa in 1989 with some friends from Lahore and it was a really amazing place, spiritual even. We went towards the end of August it was cold and wet but added to the mystique of the place. There was a lake in the middle with trees and grass all around, a rest house on the top of a grassy knoll over looking the lake and a cafe/restaurant shack next to it. It was pretty much untouched after that, it was really picturesque. Unfortunately it is not the same anymore, ubiquitous litter, throngs of tourists. The rest house and the shack are still there but some shops and other out buildings have sprung up. The serenity and “spirituality” of the place have gone and I felt saddened and disappointed.

Heading back to our base camp and looking forward to a barbecue.

Arrived back and had a little game of tape ball cricket, loosely Pakistan v England, my team “England” lost the toss and were fielding. We had a total of 27 to chase. My opener hit the ball out of the “ground” and was out, as that was the rule. My son Yusef came in and was out first ball, oh the shame of it, in comes my next player, all this while I am the non-strike batsman, he hits the ball for one run, I am on strike, first ball I get the bat on the ball, a defensive stroke to get the measure of the pitch and the bowler, the light is fast diminishing as sunset approached. Second ball, whizzes past my bat. Third ball I expertly despatch for a 4 through the covers. Bowler changes, I get a feel for the conditions and I think I can get the total, fourth ball narrowly misses the stumps, maybe I was being optimistic. Fifth ball, get a defensive stroke on my back foot and try for a single and then the rain starts and boy does it start, it was a real soaking, heavy and you feel as though you are being slapped from heaven with each rain drop, thunder and lightning and torrential. It put paid to our match and barbecue.

Had dinner and hit the sack. We leave this place tomorrow to travel to Dheer-kot a good 4 hours drive in much same conditions as the last few days.

Pakistan Trip, Day 5: Thursday 30th July

We set off to Dheer-kot, there is a massive road building project across Azad Kashmir, in the main brought on by the earthquake 2 years ago, the going is very slow, the Hiace not getting above 20 or 30 kph as the roads are raw and incomplete, this trip is going to take a good 4 hours.

Arrive at the rest-houses in Dheer-kot at about 5pm, again its situation, geographically, is ruined by the state of it; it is not nice. Our party will be divided between the rest houses and the family house. My wife, daughter Sumayya and I walked to the rest house further up, and as we approached it my daughter stops and pulls me back and says “I don’t want to go, there’s something here”, my wife were a bit freaked out by this as she refused to go any further. We decided that we’d stay in the family’s house.

As I was making wudu, my prescription eye glasses broke, one of the arms came loose and broke off, luckily I had a pair of prescription sunglasses that I would have to make do with until we returned to Mirpur and so the rest of the trip was seen through my sunglasses.

There is not really much else here, we are here just because one of our number were invited by a family whose late father was a good friend of. No need for the rest of us to be here really and I am disappointed and very annoyed at the waste of a day as we sit around for hours doing nothing, I busy myself with reading and complain to my wife at the boredom and waste of time and perhaps said much more than I should have, the Mrs. is a bit upset.

The family is hospitable and pleasant and they put on a nice table spread of food.

They have a fig tree that has small figs about the size of a 10p piece, they were very sweet and tasty. Someone argued that they were not figs but, I countered, they were the same as any other fig that I have eaten except for size.

Pakistan Trip, Day 6: Thursday 31st July

Still in Dheer-kot, we have been invited to breakfast around someone’s house, again it is a friend of the same person in our group as before. We are running late as it is 10:45.

The house is situated on the side of a mountain, our Hiaces take us to a spot and the drop us off, the rest of the way is a mountain hike and it takes us 10 mins across uneven terrain and greenery with women and kids. The house is in a lovely spot, however, it is clearly earthquake damaged, cracked and battered.

The house owner relates the story about the night of the earthquake and how he was asleep and suddenly awoke amidst the terrifying sound and vibration of the earthquake.

In the room in which he was sleeping, on the main support beam across the room, he has written “la ilaha ilaAllah Muhammad ur-rasulAllah” he is convinced his house didn’t collapse on him because of that.

The damage is extensive I asked him if he is not concerned that the house is structurally unsound and that it may fall on them yet? He said with certainty “what more can happen? the worst is over”, I asked if he was going to demolish and rebuild and he said that he just can’t bring himself to demolish it just yet, it is a house in which he has invested much emotion and sentiment and just can’t bring himself to do it, but, he concedes, it is something that he will have to do.

Breakfast becomes brunch as it is midday when breakfast is served, we eat, the food is good, we make our goodbyes and head for Islamabad via Sozo Adventure Park in Muree.

***

Sozo Adventure park has about 15 fairground style rides, entry is RS320 (less than £2.50) for adults and RS180 (£1.30) for kids under 10. The first ride I go on totally does in my stomach, and I feel sick and don’t attempt anymore rides. Had a horse ride with my daughter which she thoroughly enjoyed. My boys enjoyed it even though they cynically compared it to theme parks England, both ended up vomiting.

We left Sozo and headed to Islamabad for dinner at The Mini Golf Club, a mini golf club with a fancy restaurant. Food was good but not particularly special and it was comparatively pricey by Pakistani standards. The kids opted for KFC and to be honest I wish I had too.

We headed back to Mirpur and got back at 1am

Pakistan Trip, Day 7: Friday 1st August

Spent most of the day resting and recuperating from the rigours of travel.

Reviewed the photographs from our trip, came out quite good. Everyone was impressed.

Prayed Juma’ at a local Ghausia Mosque, came back got asked by a relative if I prayed at a “grave worshippers mosque” I said that I saw no graves, nor did I see anyone worshipping them. Didn’t fancy getting into a lengthy discussion on the subject, it was the old Barelwi/Deobandi argument.

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The iPhone as a user experience is just the best, both devices have excellent screens but the size and touch functionally of the iPhone is a sheer pleasure when navigating around the menus and it is quick too; the blackberry isn’t too bad either. Using the iPhone as an e-book reader is wonderful, the first time I have felt that I don’t need a physical book (although I still prefer a physical book). I completed H G Wells’ Time Machine on it and it was a pleasurable experience (I used Stanza). This brings me to the apps, both devices have all the usual apps – Facebook, Twitter, instant messengers, Flickr uploaders, Google Earth, ebook readers, Qurans etc but the iPhone totally dominates the Blackberry here. The iPhone has so much more, you can find a plethora of weird and wonderful apps on iTunes.

The iPhone supports “push” services now which was the main selling point of Blackberry so you can get emails without having to remember to download them. This is still the best on the Blackberry, email on the move does not get any better than Blackberry.

In conclusion then, for emails and business use the Blackberry Bold/9000 is without doubt the best but as a consumer device, the iPhone is as perfect as a multi-function telephony device can get.