Friday 5 June 2009

Lt. Omer Tirimzi, The Hero of Bajaur

At the Green Ribbon Vigil, we had the honour of being audience to a speech made by this gentleman, this is his story.



Source: http://swatmartyrs.wordpress.com/ Writer: S.A.A.Z

Lieutenant Omer Tirmizi, a young and dynamic individual and a brave solider was posted to Bajaur Agency to counter Taliban insurgency in 2008. He comes from a family of soldiers, who devoted their entire lives to protecting our motherland. Most of the young officers of his age and experience are hesitant to face these highly trained and well equiped barbarians in their home ground, but the day he received his orders of being posted to the war-struck area of Bajaur, he knew he his dream had come true and the reason he was made for will be tested to the core.

I still remember his words when he was about to leave for Bajaur: ” I will be lucky to come back alive, but I dont wish for that luck, I just pray that He gives me the courage and faith to live upto my name, this uniform I wear and the flag that is pasted on my forearm ”

Having known him for years, as a friend and as a brother, I knew he was special and made for “war”. Since the day he left for Bajaur, I started waiting for the “good” news

And the news came, Omer had been critically injured and from fighting the so-called talibs, he was now battling for life. The news got to me when he was being flown in a helicopter to CMH Peshawar, and doctors had informed his retired father and loving mother about his critical condition. ” We would lose him, WE WOULD LOSE HIM ” were the words of the doctor in the air urging the pilot to fly as quickly as possible.

The mother who used to worry about his son’s habit of not taking breakfast and running after him around the house, had lost her senses. Her loved one was battling for life!

The moment of truth had actually passed few hours ago, when he was ordered to lead a team of a few jawans into a talib-controlled stronghold. He being the only officer had to coordinate with his superior as to when to send the Cobras after his team’s mission was accomplished

He lead his brave jawans into the compound, knowing that his enemy were veterans in the field of guerilla warfare, an art of war neither he or his team was trained to counter. They had to adapt to this way of war, in areas their hostiles knew like their own backyards. And so did they! They fought bravely for hours and though overnumbered significantly, with limited ammunition and supply. They managed to distract over 200 talibans and as per their plan, called for backup support of helicopters and artillery shelling but to their surprize were told not to wait for the back-up as the promised support had to be diverted somewhere else.

Moments like these, test the faith of a soldier. Surrounded by enemy, with bullets and rockets hurling past their ears, they could not retrieve. Omer ordered his men to lay down and hide in the fields initially, thinking it would be madness to try and fight in such a situation where death was inevitable. He assembled his men, head to head, laying down in the fields and informed them of the situation.

This is the moment we were made for, this is the day we were trained for, this is the day our mothers fed us for and this is the moment our fathers prayed for glory! I cannot force you to embrace death, which seems inevitable in this situation, so I beg for your advice. We all have to die, if somehow He wishes to give us some more time, we might end up dying on beds, but we all used to shout back in our training days – LIVE LIKE ALI * , DIE LIKE HUSSEIN * . So do you want to live like Hazrat Ali Sher-e-Khuda and die like Hazrat Imam Hussein ? “

Listening to these words of their commander, the jawaans without even slightest of utters stood up together and pointed their guns towards the trees their enemies were firing from. Omer had lost his senses, the Nasha of shahadah and the will to defeat these ignorants who had defamed Islam and Pakistan overwhelmed his ability to think. He jumped out of the fields, came in the open ground where there was not even a single inch of earth that was not hit by bullets and rockets.

7 men were now face to face with enemy 20 times more. ” Nayar-e-Haidri ” – ” Ya ALI ” was heard amongst the sound of bullets. ” Himmat-e-Marda’n – Madad-e-Khuda ” saw its real interpretation and they saw their enemy falling down from the trees hit by their shots. Some who managed to jump down and moved towards this little army of only a few men, got hit before reaching 10 feet closer and died near their boots damped with blood. Omer saw one of his jawaans leg flying towards him, blood and human flesh plagued his uniform but he still stood strong and kept on reciting the praises to His lord.

Omer was drunk in the wine of martyrdom, he didnot realize he was hit by a sharpnel until he found himself lying in the fields, he felt something in left leg and when he looked, a shower of blood was flowing out. He couldnot see his jawaans, as some of them had been martyred and some had retrieved. He lay alone, in the fields, wounded but still wanting to stand up and fight. Having tried two or three times, he realized that he couldnot move his leg. He heard his enemies coming closer and talking in the local language that they have an officer injured, which meant a lot of money! He had heard stories of them peeling off officer’s skins and disgracing their uniform. He could not let that happen! His hands pierced in his pockets, grabbing a grenade, and waiting for them to come closer so that he could blow himself up. Each second seemed like an hour, the time was moving in slow-mo. They were near now, his grenade’s pin was in his mouth, ready to take it out and kill them, so what if he had died with them! But then “khota” – his favorite jawaan of relatively chubby stature came running towards him alongwith some jawaans who had retrieved, forcing the enemy backwards. “Khota” managed to pick omer and started running towards their base, bullets and rockets passed them by but khota ran like leopard then, and omer still found an element of humor in it .

He was brought to the base, given first aid and was boarded on a helicopter for immediate surgery in CMH Peshawar. He could hear the words of the doctor narrated above ” We would lose him, WE WOULD LOSE HIM ” but now having felt death so closely, his fear of it had vanished.

Omer had undergone several surgeries since then, he is on wheelchair with one leg disabled. And he still says with vigour, ” It was just net practise, the real moment of truth will come again”

His team had managed to kill over 50 insurgents that day, his Commanding Officer had a leg amputated and then lost his life afterwards. Many of his close friends and coursemates embraced shahadah’

In midst of all the negativity that one witnesses in the country, brave men and women like Omer give us hope. If they are ready to blow themselves them, we have an army of 16 Crore willing to die for the green flag!

Source: http://swatmartyrs.wordpress.com/2009/05/31/lieutenant-omer-tirmizi-the-hero-of-bajaur/



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Thursday 4 June 2009

I SPY: The Light with a Voice - Sadaf Zarrar

Islamabad: As the sun set on Islamabad on 3rd June 2009, all wasn’t dark. Candle by Candle, over a hundred bearers of light got together in front of the constitution avenue and brought radiance to what could have been a dark night.

The event aptly titled ‘The Green Ribbon Vigil’ was organized by a group of local citizens who in their words ‘felt the need to mobilize the citizens of this country, show all our security forces including the Armed Forces, the Police and the paramilitary forces that we are with them and remember all those innocent victims who had lost their lives in various terror attacks’.

The gathering consisted of an array of people from various walks of life, and while some of them had relatives in the forces, most were there only owing to deep rooted patriotism. What started around 7pm as a nervous gathering of 20 odd people ended at around 9.30pm with over 120 euphoric citizens who chanted slogans of patriotism and sang patriotic songs.
The gathering consisted of an array of people from various walks of life, and while some of them had relatives in the forces, most were there only owing to deep rooted patriotism.
The highlight of the event however remained participation of Lt Omer who is a veteran of war against terror and extremism in Swat and Tribal areas. The Lieutenant who was supported by crutches owing to his war wounds spoke in a personal capacity and said that gatherings such as these would raise the morale of the troops and that it is time for the country to stand together and fight against this menace together… the Soldiers with guns and The citizens in spirit.
It is time for the country to stand together and fight against this menace together… the Soldiers with guns and The citizens in spirit.
Father of Captain Jonaid Shaheed from SSG was also present at this gathering and was given an honorary salute by all participants of the gathering for the great sacrifice his son had given.

Speeches by Capt Jonaid Shaheed’s father, Lt Omer and a family friend of Capt Waqqas Zamir Shaheed brought the whole crowd to an emotional silence and the teary eyed participants remained in awe of the great sacrifices the sons of this soil are giving for the safety and protection of this country and its people from foreign funded barbarians.

A moment of silence and prayer was observed towards the end of the peaceful gathering in remembrance of the Martyrs and the innocent victims of terror attacks and slogans were chanted towards the end to show solidarity with the Military and paramilitary forces.
‘We were 20 the last time we got together and today we’re over 120 in this gathering we will be even more next time, the youth is waking up… Pakistan is Rising… again’
The participants of the gathering vowed to not bow to terrorism. ‘We were 20 the last time we got together and today we’re over 120 in this gathering we will be even more next time, the youth is waking up… Pakistan is Rising… again’ said one of the volunteers organizing this gathering.



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Tuesday 2 June 2009

New Era for Pakistan by Bushra Hassan

Yesterday my husband took a cab to get home. When they reached out of the dozens road blocks around Islamabad, the pathan, uneducated cab driver saluted the policeman checking his car. My husband laughed, and asked him why he did that? His reply was simple: “If some one was to give me Rs. 20 million, I still would not do this police man’s job, not even for an hour.”

There is a new found wave of appreciation for the police going around Pakistan these days. We have spent decades complaining about the police, our notorious Pakistan police. However, now we see smiling police men, guarding us, saving us, fighting for us. Most Pakistanis have come to appreciate their jobs, their dedication, and stopped complaining. Period!

This is a new era for Pakistan. One of mutual trust, responsibility and respect. This is new for us. We’re done complaining. It’s about individual actions and collective purpose.

I have made a habit of saluting the police officials every time I take my car near them. They always salute back, they always smile. Have you ever heard of a police official smiling at you, without reason? Now they have a reason, and so do we. It’s called Solidarity.

"Have you ever heard of a police official smiling at you, without reason?Now they have a reason, and so do we. It’s called Solidarity.”
I no longer listen to Indian or English music in my car. The radio’s been turned off and all I have ears for these days are patriotic songs, from Jeevay Jeevay Pakistan, to Yeh Tera Pakistan hai, to the ever green Watan ki mitti gawah rehna etc. I roll down my car windows and sing along. As I drive on the roads of my country, safe and sound, feeling protected and blessed, I come to appreciate even more those fighting for me. As they say in the song: “meri sarhad per pehra hay eemaan ka; mere shehron peh saaya hay Quraan kaa”, I am wrapped in patriotism, and I know I’m not the only one. My friends are feeling the same emotions as I do, dying to get their hands dirty and help out, one way or another. The people from the privileged classes are yearning to help those in need. The people in privileged classes want to serve the poor. When was the last time that happened? Anywhere?

“As they say in the song: “meri sarhad per pehra hay eemaan ka; mere shehron peh saaya hay Quraan kaa”, I am wrapped in patriotism, and I know I’m not the only one. My friends are feeling the same emotions as I do, dying to get their hands dirty and help out, one way or another.”

This is a new era for Pakistan. We come together in times of difficulty, we stand united. We are One, We stand as One, We fight as One.

Long Live Pakistan

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Monday 1 June 2009

Green Ribbon Vigil, Wed - 3rd June 09, 8pm Consititution Ave Islamabad


In Loving Memory of Capt. Omerzeb (Shaheed) – A Brave Soldier, an Obedient Son, A Caring Brother and A Loving Fiancé - Majdy


Since the operation against militants began in April last month, over 1,100 militants had been killed and over 60 soldiers had been martyred so far. Yet I never felt the pain of those dying in the name of their country’s sovereignty against terrorism so excruciating as the martyrdom of my sister’s fiancé.

He was only 24 years old, a month older to me and he was very smart and handsome boy. He loved my sister and she loved him and we all loved him just as much as his own family loved him. He was engaged to my younger sister and they were looking forward to getting married by next year.

He was only 24 years old, a month older to me and he was very smart and handsome boy. He loved my sister and she loved him.
On 11th of May, 2009, he was deployed to Lower Dir as part of the Operation ‘Rah-e-Rast’ against Militants in Swat and near-by areas. He left from Rawalpindi and we all prayed for him. We never knew he was leaving forever. Let me narrate to you what happened just 10 hours before he embraced martyrdom – we Muslims call ‘Shahadat' It was mid-night – the beginning of the painful 21st May, 2009. He called up my sister and wished her a very happy birthday.

The 21st of May was the day when 23 years ago my younger sister came into this world. He sang to her ‘birthday song’ in 6 different languages, he gave her his prayers and told her how bad he feels for not being there with her on her birthday. He was in Lower Dir and she was here with us in Rawalpindi. She said to him, “I wish you were here on my birthday. I wish I could have celebrated my birthday with you.” And he replied, “Do you want me to come over? Should I come over to Rawalpindi in the morning and we celebrate your birthday together?” She said, yes, please, please do.”

'He did come over on her birthday but not the way we wanted him to come over. He didn’t come to her walking on his feet, holding a bouquet in his hands just the way he promised to her last night. Instead, he came on the shoulders of sad soldiers in a box we call a martyr’s coffin!'

He did come over on her birthday but not the way we wanted him to come over. He didn’t come to her walking on his feet, holding a bouquet in his hands just the way he promised to her last night. Instead, he came on the shoulders of sad soldiers in a box we call a martyr’s coffin! He had been martyred on the 21st of May, 2009 – The very day my sister came into this world, he left this world forever – On my sister’s birthday! I received a call at around 11:30 in the morning, I was in Islamabad. It was my ill-fated sister and she was crying like a mad woman. She was literally screaming in the phone so I couldn’t understand what she was trying to tell me. I heard something like a blast in Lower Dir, a strip running on a TV channel showing my sister’s fiancé’s name among the martyred. She was hysterical. She wanted me home right away.

I left in panic, I kept praying the news I just heard was false. It took me an hour to reach home from Islamabad to Rawalpindi. I was met with screams of my sister who was out of control of almost everyone. She wasn’t accepting the fact that her love has left her on her birthday. She kept screaming, “You guys are lying to me. He is not dead. He cannot leave me. He promised me to celebrate 93 birthdays with me. This was our first. He can’t leave me on our (her) first birthday, he promised me 93 birthdays together.” I couldn’t see her like this; I had broken down into tears. My mother was half-living half-dead. We all left for his house. What I saw there, I cannot narrate in words. His mother was still, tears in her eyes, she hugged me and the first thing she said was, “Hold on to your sister, she will die. Take care of her.” I was looking at her. This was the mother of a brave soldier, a soldier who was our loved one, but a soldier who came home on his love’s birthday but not the way any member of his family or mine would have ever imagined or wanted him back. Even if I want to tell you what my family on the whole and specifically my younger sister is going through, I won’t be able to because there are no words to put down my pain, my family’s loss, his family’s sufferings and most of all my sister’s desolation. Two families were destroyed when one soldier died. 14 hearts wept dry of blood when one heart stopped beating on the 21st of May. All sacrifices in the name of a peaceful, safe, terrorism-free country.

Capt. Omerzeb, like many soldiers sacrificed his life for the greater good of his nation but is the nation even thankful to those families who have been left scarred for life. When sons, brothers, husbands, and fathers die every other day while fighting the militants, how many people in our nation pray for their safety, their long lives, their safe return?
Capt. Omerzeb, like many soldiers sacrificed his life for the greater good of his nation but is the nation even thankful to those families who have been left scarred for life. When sons, brothers, husbands, and fathers die every other day while fighting the militants, how many people in our nation pray for their safety, their long lives, their safe return? They know that when they are sitting in the comforts of their homes, it is these brave men fighting on the borders for them to have that sense of security and comfort.

My heart breaks every time I see my younger sister who has not regained herself so far. Who wakes up in the middle of the night and weeps like a child, who hasn’t eaten in 24 hours, and whose eyes have swollen dry of tears that have drained her off completely. I wish this fight against the militants come to an end soon. Till now every time a soldier died, we thought we felt the pain but no, we couldn’t. Nobody can until your loved one goes away when you are least expecting. Now, I can truly say I know what a martyr’s family goes through when their beloved leaves them forever.

May his soul rest in peace, may all those soldiers who have given their lives for this noble cause, for their country rest in peace. Most of all, the families who have lost their sons, their brothers, their husbands and their fathers, may God give them strength, patience, and peace of heart. I post this true story of a distraught family, of my family, of my loss, of my younger sister’s anguish to pay tribute to the brave Capt. Omerzeb for his valor and all the love that he gave us in whatever little time we spent with him. God bless us all!

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Capt Omerzeb was Majdy's Youger Sister's Fiance.

About Majdy, in her own words:
'I am but a human being with an intense desire for self-expression...Being a true worshipper of pure intellect, the dream is to at least secure that place in the intellectual community where my voice has an individual influential standing. The passion for expression of thoughts and thirst for knowledge are driving forces of my motivation. The dictum is an inspiration from Julius Caesar, I am proud to own! “I came, I saw, I conquered!”'

More on Madjy: http://www.allvoices.com/users/Majdy

A Midnight Realization, The Cyprian Surprise & Two Inspiring Friends.

I was extremely perturbed a few days back when I saw the status of this blog. In my desperation to get something, ANYTHING positive or thought provoking about Pakistan online, I had managed a shoddy job of compilations, copy pastes and borrowed material.

The blog at best was average and despite meaning well, it was not doing justice to what I really wanted to do. As a result I sat down online and sent invitations to my friends asking them to contribute original pieces to this site. I thank Bushra and OJ immensly for taking the first steps and actually writing what I am now looking at as the only two genuine heartfelt pieces on this blog.
'I knew what I wanted to do, I knew how to do it BUT thats where it stopped. Beyond that I self curtailed my responsibility, hoping for miraculous contributions that would get my job done somehow.'
As I was going through the blog once again just now, it suddenly occured to me what the real problem was. It wasn't borrowed content, nor was it the stress of wondering when the next original piece would come by. The problem was very simple, and perhaps the same one facing the entire country right now. I knew what I wanted to do (promote thoughts of liberal, moderate Pakistan), I knew how to do it (a blog for starters) BUT thats where it stopped. Beyond that I self curtailed my responsibility to editing, hoping for miraculous contributions that would get my job done somehow.

I will shift from the topic here slightly and Thank my good friend Mr. Adnan Cyprian for helping me realise something today, Adnan perhaps is as leftist as they get and I right of centre. We have for long indulged in debates arguing on how much we varied but not once in over three years of knowing each other did we try to find a commonality. Adnan and I agreed today for the first time. Interesting, because for the first time we both stepped back... I apologized for being stubborn and emotional and he returned the gesture immediately by actually offering a very sympathetic ear. To put a long story oddly short, we realised we both want Pakistan to prosper, we just have different ways of getting about it... VERY different ways.

'If you want something done, you have to jump in yourself first for others to follow.'

Moving on, I'd like to believe most of us want no matter how much we differ amongst ourselves, want the best for this country. We have known what we want, we also have a fair idea how we can get it but for long we have relied on Governments and Leaders and Dictators to do the job for us, a lot like this blog. The point is, if you want something done, you have to jump in yourself first for others to follow. I look forward to contributing to this blog and Pakistan along with my friends who dare to take the first step.

Moral of the Story:
The power lies with us. Today is a good day to start.