Death Kiss… is the Last Option!

Today I am telling you a true story that my grandma – Dr. Hashmat told me about one of her experiences from her Maternity Clinic – Mach Bolan.

Dr. Hashmat

Once upon a time, a poor woman with her mother came to me from a valley far in the mountains. She was looking so happy. She told me that she was married 6 years ago but has no children. But now she was feeling that she was expecting.

triplets

I took her to my checkup room. After pregnancy test and physical checkup, I gave her the good news that she was expecting me to told her – yes she was expecting.  But she was looking too weak because her diet was dry bread with lassi (a drink made up from yogurt and water) and rarely meat was available for her. I prescribed and gave her some food-supplements and some nutritious food that was available at that time.

And asked her to come again for next checkup. Usually these tribal people come for only one time during pregnancy even some just came on the time of delivery. That’s why I asked her to come after 2 months. But she refused and admitted to come after 4 months.

Time was passing away as clouds waves out in the sky after rain. After 5 months, someone knocking my clinic’s door and I was just astonished to see a thin branch of tree loaded with a pouched-bag. Yes! she was the girl that came to me 5 months ago, now she was looking too skinny with a overloaded pouched tummy.

After her checkup, I told her that you have more than one fetus in your womb. At this she hugged me with happiness. Beside that I told her to take care of herself because a healthy mother can deliver a healthy baby.

After some months, she came with her mother in her full-term condition. She was in too much pain. After some time in labor room, I delivered her first baby that was in good condition. I gave the baby to the midwife and trying to pull out the 2nd one. After delivering the second one, I noticed that the girl was still in pain of contractions and I am surprised that she delivered a third one. But the third one has severe breathing problem.

To deal with them (mother and her triplets) was quite difficult for me right now. This put a lot of pressure on me to see the girl crying in pain to see the third one turning blue.

There I took the third one to the other bed and death kiss is the last option. I put my breath in him and also try to inhale his breath. At this moment I am turning cold that whether I could save him or not but trying hard to take him to life. His mother and grandma crying and praying for him.

After few minutes, I noticed the changing color of his body. At this, I feel like a champion who won not just a match but a championship.

His mother couldn’t resist herself to kiss my hands madly and saying that “you are an angel of God, you save me and my children – that is everything for me”.

Point to Ponder is:

Sometimes beside your knowledge, practice, studies, medical setup & equipment – we as a doctor felt totally helpless and the two things we can only do are: try our best till end and seek God’s blessings.

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 8^th 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.”

with elegant Harris…(grandson)

with husband, daughter and son-in-law…grandson in her lap

with naughty Rastyn…(her grandson)

Birthday celebration…

praying with Harris…

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)!!!

 

 

Dada’s son-in-law (my husband) is behind her

my dada….

with my son

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

Life – A Tearing Smile or Smiling Tears???

 

Once 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 (24^th 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

firmly.

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…