A Woman of Pride – Her motto “Live, to Give”

Today I was sitting alone with a cup of tea and searching the people who work for humanity. There I thought that many people are devoting their lives in various corners of the world but the difference is to “portray them”. Some get more acknowledgements than others and some just do their work silently as people fail to explore and acknowledge them. These people devoted their lives to work for humanity.


Dr. Hashmat Baloch(love-humanity)

First, I want to introduce the personality that no one knows but everyone should know: Dr. Hashmat Baloch. She is a Gynecologist from a poor marginalized town, Mach Bolan – Baluchistan Pakistan.

She was born in a society where girl’s education is hindered and limited in many ways. But her father yet managed and gave her permission to continue her studies (after middle) in a Boy’s School because in those days Girl’s schools are limited to 8th standard only.

After that she got admission in a medical school that is in Sandeman Civil Hospital, Quetta Baluchistan. There she complete her medical studies. After that she started practicing in


ever-green smiling soul

her own town.

Many people advised her to stay in Quetta for handsome salaried job but she choose to work for her own town’s people. There she was dealt with various female patients that are from disadvantaged and marginalized families from the hilly areas of Baluchistan. Beside their treatment, she was use to provide them basic medicines, food, and basic understanding of how to keep themselves and their families healthy and safe.


nature-lover personality

These ladies were totally illiterate – even once a day, one of them saw herself in a mirror that is in her clinic lobby and asked her reflection “where is Doctor Hashmat?” They come from high hilly areas, where traveling is almost impossible.

She learned almost 8 different local languages because she believes that talking with patients in their mother languages – is itself a curing emotional technique. She devote her life in serving the humans.


her family…

She had a small clinic with enough medical stuff for female patients. She take fees from the patients to the extent that is used for clinic billing and maintenance. Otherwise she was not treating them for her own earning.


with her loving husband

She was married to a man who strengthen her more. Some one truly said that “A Strong man can only handle a strong woman, a weak man will say she has an Attitude”.

She lived with her husband in his town, an interior tribal area of Sindh – Pakistan. That area is usually conceptualized as an area where women have no rights.  Different worse rituals are there like Karo-Kari, married to Quran, child marriage and many more. But she lived there with same motto, educate her own family-in-law and then spread her knowledge to her surrounding with her countless efforts.

She not only help and support others but I remember (in my hostel days) she used to send mobile (cell-phone) balance to all those students in our family who are living far in hostels. Still she silently help and support the family member who needs any financial or emotional support, it can be just a hug (jadoo ki jhhapii) or a forehead kiss…

Even you can say she is a fresh water spring, everyone and anyone can quench his/her thirst (fulfill their need) to the extent, they need. And she is deep down sea that hide


shallow like water-spring, deep like a sea…

the secrets of not people but a generation.

Now she is living with her daughter, her son-in-law (who loves her more than her own daughter) and two grandsons in Quetta, Baluchistan. There she was still treating and advising her patients.

She used to tell me numerous stories regarding delivering babies and treating their mothers that if I put them in words, I have to give my next 1 – 2 years. In short I want people to acknowledge her, her devoted life and her humanity.

Today’s point-to-ponder is: “Instead of blaming each other, go and explore various things, places, people and ideas that are waiting for us to be portrayed.”


A Woman of Strength

It is a story of a little girl
who was living with her family in a small town of interior


Once a little town girl…Now a sky for us

Baluchistan – Pakistan. She loves her father so much and known as his pampered child. She was too naughty as she and her elder sister competed each other to run on hilly areas with long heel- shoes.

As she grown up to 15, she was married to her cousin. In this age she felt that her husband is now her shelter after her father. She was living happily with her husband for round about 2 months. During this she had a good news to conceive a child in her womb.

After that her husband had to go to a far town for his job. From there, they contact each other through innocent love letters. After some time her husband diagnosed as tuberculosis – patient. This was a terrible news for the whole family because he is the only son of his own family and there were no proper treatment of this disease at that time. The little girl could not understand how to react in this situation and in this age.


Little Town Girl hugs her Son (my father)

Time was passing away, the little girl delivered a little angle – baby boy. A little glimpse of hope rose for her and her husband. But now she was asked to keep away herself and her son from her husband because of his viral infectious disease. When her son grown up to 1.5 years, a bad news put countless tears in her eyes – her husband died…

This news put lot of problems on her little shoulders. Now she had to face the world without her husband and with a little baby in a society where there were various worse rituals and cultural barriers for a widow mother. She was being forced to marry again but she didn’t want to do that. She got permission from her father to study further (to earn for her son). From there,


my dear dada

her brother (Fazal Haq) took responsibility of her and her son.

Life was moving forward, now she was feeling shelter in her son. Now she made her life – a shadow of her son. She was appointed as a JV teacher in a school and earn to provide good education for her son. When her son entered in 12-standard, a small but severe incident again came in their life.

She fell again in love with a man who was living in their neighborhood, who also loved her purely. In short, she got secretly married him with her sister’s and brother-in-law’s support. She got happy for some time but then worse rituals of her family traditions again break her budding smile.

Her son was severely forced by her family to get his mother (and his step father) convinced to be divorced. She did that for her son. But she didn’t get feel her son – blamed.

She moved forward with her son. Besides too many hurdles, she provided proper education to her son. With her low earning, she managed to send her son to the best college (NCA-Lahore, Pakistan) to study (Bachelors in Fine Arts) and made his life more human…

She made a pillow for her son in which she stuffed her own hair (that fallen by time). Reason is that she want her son to sleep with her feeling of presence, even when she will die….

Now her son is living a happy and healthy life with his wife (Teacher by Profession), two children and her MOTHER (the little town girl). But still he has guilt (to get his mother divorced) in his heart.

I am – the storyteller – her granddaughter. I am living in Islamabad (Pakistan) with my husband and son – doing job in a software company. My brother (her grandson) is studying in world recognized institute (Sadiq Public School, Bahawalpur – Pakistan).

My grandmother told me this story one night before my


her family (from left: her daughter-in-law, her son, her granddaughter -me, grandson) …one day before my marriage

marriage. Reason is: I have to realize my father that he is not need to blame himself. But still I couldn’t do that. So I am writing this blog to realize him guiltless. Baba (Father)! You were not what you do, you did what you were forced to do…

What we are now – is all because of her (the little town girl). We all love you and proud to be a legend’s children…. Dear DADA (grandmother)!!!



Today’s point-to-ponder is: “everywhere on earth – mother’s love is unconditional, pure and eternal….”

Pakistan Chapter 1 – Beautiful Baluchistan

Pakistan is usually termed in sense of terror, attacks, extremism and a lot of other stereotype terms.

But let me take you to the bright side of Pakistan that is enough beautiful to state it as Heaven on Earth.

It has four giggling seasons, vast fairy-tale meadows, golden sands, green valleys, great rivers and sea, dreamed coasts, fairy-bathing springs of crystal clear water, natural forests and its habitats, and beauty of northern areas.

Multilingual, multi cultural society in which you can enjoy diverse cultures, traditions, festivals, music, folk stories, art & craft, and specially food. Ooo… I just love that diversity. You can diversity of everything, here.

I try my best to take you to a trip of my heaven – Pakistan. First Chapter is my birth-place, Baluchistan.

Special Facts for Baluchistan:

  • People here are so hospitable
  • Food lovers must visit Baluchistan…. mouth-watering Baluchi Saji, karot, Rosh, kaak roti are some of their best cuisines.
  • Best place for enjoying various fresh water springs.
  • Gawadar Coastal area is just an astonishing world.
  • “Attan” is their folk dance.
  • Baluchi dresses are so colorful and fabulos
  • Decorated trucks are famous worlwide

For more facts visit: http://defence.pk/threads/15-beautiful-things-you didn%E2%80%99t-know-about-the-enriching-baloch-culture.398819/

I want to fly you to my favorite place, “Pari Chashma” (translation – fairies’s spring)

Photos’s Credit goes to: https://www.facebook.com/beautiful.balochistan/photos_stream











Baluchistan’s Jewels of future


another pearl of my homeland


a little chipmunk…254465_227972280548694_3617282_n

Baluchistan’s legendary decorated trucks…

Hope you all like and visit my land soon…..

Life – A Tearing Smile or Smiling Tears???


165915_545135485519361_922131992_nOnce I was drowning in a relationship breakup when someone holds me up. Says you are not what you are pretending… you are strong enough to take a start again. Hold my hand with filling the gaps between my fingers and take me to a green world.

Where there were worries like making assignments, overnight university


me and my husband (Afaq) amusing each-other

projects,  overnight studying to take some extra points, not having enough pocket money for hunting a large-extra topping pizza with salad instead of medium-normal without salad, having late for class, walk for some extra miles for not having enough petrol in motorbike, being wet in sudden heavy rain on motorbike, forget to text back, hiding in a cupboard for not having to be seen using cotton buds, dishwashing after a tired university assignment, making breakfast and making sure that egg was not stuck to the frypan.


me – the author

And we had joys like bunk classes and went to parks, took extra holidays for going to meet family on festivals, buying corn-on-cob between the road and enjoying the horns behind you, enjoying drizzling like a flying bird (while on motorbike), a couple of minutes nap by putting my head on his back (while on motorbike), singing loudly while coming back from university, saved pocket money and went for a movie with cheesy pop-corn and one large soft-drink with two straws, video chat with family on weekends, making sandwiches with maggie and fries at 4am and a lot more.

Sometimes you perceive that life has to flow like a morning breeze. But a thunder has to come for a beautiful rainbow to be seen after that. Likewise in our steady happy life, a storm came when I was diagnosed by an apple (tumor) inside between my left shoulder and neck, instead of being placed in my fridge closet…..hahaha

Anyway this was an awful news for my whole family but in this picture, someone again try


University Days

to fill the gap (this time) of my arms. And deadly sure that a rainbow will again cuddled our life. I passed all the process of medical tests (X-Rays, Color Dopplers, Citi-scans, MRI, FNAC and MRI) with my questioned eyes before him. And he was just saying “don’t worry washu (my pet-name), Allah has created us to live with each other, for each other and in each other”.

One of my doctor once told me that I am a being with “a unique name, unique blood-group (O-ive) and unique disease (tumor is benign but location is so critical)”. On the night before my surgery, I look up in his eyes and take a promise from him that “he has to live his life even if I am not there”, this time I saw, first time, silent tears in his eyes but he didn’t say anything, just nodded his head.


Going to his Convocation

Before my surgery, I saw a face (from my blurred eyes) that reflect either a tearing smile or smiling tears – I didn’t understand…. After a 5 hours’ major surgery, I first saw again the same face with same expressions…..with same blurred eyes. But this time, that face express the feeling of winning a world championship…

I was gone through the medical process (pre-tests, operation, after-tests, medication, and recovery) with his struggle, support, passion, faith and endless prayers.

Today is his birth day (24th May), I want to give acknowledgement to him for being with me and being in me (in form of our loving son)… Sait (our son) ties our love-knot more


My family


Afaq (my inspiration) covers up my all relations, he is my friend, my best buddy, my father, my mother, my sister, my brother, my roommate, (once my class-mate), and yes!!! He is my SOUL-MATE…. Afaq!!! You completes me as what I am, where I am and where I will be….

Point-to-ponder is: Life is sometimes, a tearing smile


Birth Day gift for my husband-our loving son

and sometimes, smiling tears giggles it…  


Quetta (1937-1958) – “Little Paris” of Baluchistan, Pakistan

Let me take you some decades ago to see Quetta as a “Little Paris” from the eyes of my grandma.

Grandma started story: “Quetta (1937-1958) – a beautiful and peaceful valley of Baluchistan. It has a historic and lovely road known as ‘Lytton Road’. Our Medical School (my grandma’s) is in Sandeman Civil Hospital. There was a magnificent library known as A-Train-near-Quetta-Balochistan‘Sandeman Library’ that is near to the hospital where we can search any kind of literature.

Lyyton Road is fenced by spectacular dense oriental plane trees (Chinar in Urdu). Where
you can feel the darkness at even noon time. The Cypress trees and Oriental Plane tress were brought to Quetta from Paris. When Queen Elizebeth came to Quetta, she passed from this historic green fenced road – the Lytton road. All roads of Quetta were clear from dust and smoke because these roads were used by horse carts and yes! They were pampered (not to shit on roads). Cars were seen exceptionally in those days.

March dressed all the trees with beautiful green budding dresses. Quetta was safe from any allergy related diseases where you just loved to breath as long and deep as you can…

At night, you can see stars on the ground (lights of homes, buildings on hills of Quetta).Quetta-City-at-night

Pathan and Baloch were known as Quetta’s royal tribes. There were many literary people in those tribes. All were living happily and no extremism is there.

Almost every single road of cantonment area was named by British people.

Quetta is jeweled by fresh fruits and there sweet smell refresh the total atmosphere of Quetta. The mountains of Quetta were giggled by the fresh water springs. Fans and fridges were rare because the atmosphere of Quetta at Another-view-of-Quetta-at-nightthose days didn’t need any of these gadgets.

Now listen that why I am (my grandma) telling you only past memories of peaceful and clean Quetta? Because on completion of my medical degree, the beauty of Quetta faded up. Many other communities beside afghan community now started to settle here and the beautiful lush green chinar trees are being cutting down… Some nationalistic people took and décor few trunks of these trees in their homes, to express their grief of their cuttings

And on seeing the devastation of our sweet Quetta in the front of my own eyes, I was move towards a nearby small town where I was start to help poor tribal hilly people.


Special mountains in Quetta depicts a sculpture of “sleeping beauty”.

Now Quetta – “Little Paris” clasped by smoke, pollution, extremism and parched soil …” by Dr. Hashmat Baloch – Baluchistan, Pakistan.

By completing this sentence her eyes were flooded by tears – that were for her sweet


Beautiful Hanna Lake in Quetta that is now near about to dry

homeland “Quetta”.

Today’s point to ponder is “if we can’t make our surrounding better than who give us the right to make it spoil.”

What you Find Here???

Hey viewers! pleasure to see you here. We are here to discuss “points-to-ponder”:

  • such a topics which are neglected due to there little importance, but we ponder on them.
    ahhann…lets share “points-to-ponder”
  • such folk stories, fairy tales which are neglected due to there imaginary nature, but we relate them to our daily life. Yes, we ponder on them.
  • such places that are neglected due to there little importance or these places can be little explored by travelers, we are here to ponder on them.
  • some confessions, catharsis that no one is free to listen you, don’t worry we are here to ponder.