Friday, December 24, 2010

Story Of Appreciation

Story Of Appreciation

One young academically excellent person went to apply for a managerial position in a big company.

He passed the first interview; the director did the last interview, made the last decision.
The director discovered from the CV, that the youth's academic result is excellent all the way, from the secondary school until the postgraduate research, never was a year he did not score.
The director asked, "Did you obtain any scholarship in school?" and the youth answered "none".
The director asked, "Is it your father who paid for your school fees?" the youth answered, my father passed away when I was one year old, it is my mother who paid for my school fees.
The director asked, "Where did your mother work?" the youth answered, my mother worked as a cloth cleaner. The director requested the youth to show his hand, the youth showed a pair of hand that were smooth and perfect to the director.

The director asked, " Did you ever help your mother wash the clothes before?" The youth answered, never, my mother always wanted me to study and read more books, furthermore, my mother can wash clothes faster than me. The director said, I have a request, when you go back today, go and help to clean your mother's hand, and then see me tomorrow morning.
The youth felt that as the chance of landing the job is high, when he went back, he happily wanted to clean his mother's hand, his mother felt strange, happy but mixed with fear, she showed her hands to the kid.

The youth cleaned his mother's hand slowly, his tears dropped down as he did that. It is the first time he found his mother's hands so wrinkled, and there are so many bruises in her hand. Some bruises incite pains so strong that shiver his mother's body when cleaned with water.

This is the first time the youth realized and experienced that it is this pair of hand that washed the cloth everyday to earn him the school fees, the bruises in the mother's hand is the price that the mother paid for his graduation and academic excellence and probably his future.

After finishing the cleaning of his mother hand, the youth quietly cleaned all remaining clothes for his mother. That night, mother and son talked for a very long time.

Next morning, the youth went to the director's office.
The director noticed the tear in the youth's eye, asked: “Can you tell what have you done and learned yesterday in your house?"
The youth answered, " I cleaned my mother's hand, and also finished cleaning all the remaining clothes'

The director asked, “please tell me your feeling."

The youth said :
Number 1, I knew what is appreciation, without my mother, there would not the successful me today.

Number 2, I knew how to work together with my mother, then only I can realize how difficult and tough to get something done.

Number 3, I knew the importance and value of family relationship.

The director said, " This is what I am asking, I want to recruit a person that can appreciate the help of other, a person that knew the suffering of others to get thing done, and a person that would not put money as his only goal in life to be my manager. You are hired.

Later on, this young person worked very hard, and received the respect of his subordinates, every employees worked diligently and in a team, the company's result improved tremendously.

A child who had been protected and habitually given whatever he did, he developed "entitlement mentality" and always put himself first. He is ignorant of his parent's effort. When he started work, he assumed every people must listen to him, and when he became a manager, he would never know how suffering his employee and always blame others. For this kind of people, he can have good result, may be successful for a while, but eventually would not feel sense of achievement, he will grumble and full of hatred and fight for more. If we are this kind of protective parent, did we love the kid or destroy the kid?

You can let your kid live in a big house, eat a good meal, learn piano, watch a big screen TV. But when you are cutting grass, please let them experience it. After a meal, let them wash their plate and bowl together with their brothers and sisters. It is not because you do not have money to hire a maid, but it is because you want to love them in a right way. You want them to understand, no matter how rich their parents are, one day their hair will grow grey, same as the mother of that young person.

The most important thing is your kid learn how to appreciate the effort and experience the difficulty and learn the ability to work with others to get things done.



28th December 2010 will be 9th death Anniversary of my Father Brig ® M. Alimuddin, who’s presence and guidance has been missed by me from day to day and from time to time and the vacuum thus created can never be filled.

The Rich Legacy and traditions left by him will remain a beacon of light for generations to come.

All friends and well wishers are requested to join me in a humble prayer for the departed soul.

Dr. Babur Zahiruddin


(1917 – December 28, 2001)

It was cloudy morning of August 25, 1947 that a shy captain of the Royal Army’s Medical Corps, Mohammad Alimuddin, who later retired from Pakistan Army as a Brigadier, landed at the Karachi Sea port with two suitcases along with his family from a Dutch naval hospital ship from Bombay. From here, he began a journey stretching over three generations which started way back in 1917. Alimuddin was born in a humble Pathan family in 1917, at Rani Sagar in Bihar state of India. His grandfather hailed from Russian Turkistan who came to the subcontinent in 1857 to take part in the war of independence and to wage Jihad against the British Raj. After the war they settled down in the plains of Bihar and thrived and prospered there.

Alimuddin received his early education from a school about six miles away from his hometown and he had to walk every day. He did his medical graduation from the Prince of Wales Medical College, Patna in 1938 and after doing his house job joined the Royal Army’s Medical Corps in 1939.

He took part in the Burma campaign and was part of the liberation forces which swept across Java, Sumatra, Borneo and Singapore. He was stationed aboard a Dutch naval hospital ship for more than one year in the Pacific and witnessed the surrender of Japan while on duty in Singapore.

After the World War II ended, he did his graduation in ophthalmology from the Royal Army Hospital at Calcutta and after independence, he opted for Pakistan leaving behind his parents, relatives and ancestral properties in India as he was a true patriot and wanted to serve the newly born Islamic Republic of Pakistan. He was the pioneer and founder of the Military Hospital, Rawalpindi, where he served till his retirement in 1974. He was sent to the United Kingdom by Pakistan Army in 1950 for specialization in ophthalmology. He got a diploma from Royal College of Surgeons, England, and returned to Pakistan in 1952. He was founder of the department of ophthalmology in the Pakistan Armed forces and also laid foundation of the Eye Department at the Military Hospital Rawalpindi, and other combined Military Hospital’s in united Pakistan.

During his stay in the Army he held many command appointments apart from his professional duties as an ophthalmologist and commanded MH, Rawalpindi, CMH Quetta and was posted as DDMS Army in the GHQ at Rawalpindi. He was sent on observer training to Fitzsimmons General Hospital at Denver in Colorado state of USA in 1965 but due to the Indo-Pak war in September 1965, he opted to come back home to take care of the sick and wounded. Brigadier ® M. ALimuddin, has many publications to his credit and was a highly dedicated professional and a philanthropist. He was decorated with Tamgha – e – Imtiaz (military) and was awarded the Ramazan Ali Syed Gold Medal for his dedicated services and lifetime achievement in the filed of ophthalmology.

After his retirement, he established his own private clinic RAZA EYE CLINIC and worked there till the last days of his life. Brigadier ® M. Alimuddin was a tireless worker and used to run his clinic from morning to evening relentlessly. He was ebullient and punctilious in his duties but at the same time was very humble towards his poor patients on gratis basis. He was a pious and devoted Muslim having performed HAJ and Umra numerous times and was a regular contributor to many charities in Pakistan. He was active in the construction of the Mutton Market Mosque and Jamia Islamia on Kashmir road in Rawalpindi, during the early days of Pakistan. He had so much will power and determination that during the last days of his life at the age of 85 years he used to attend to his clinic daily and saw his last patient on October 10, 2001, before he fell ill and was admitted in the hospital for cardiac problems. He breathed his last on the morning of December 28, 2001, at PNS Shifa Hospital, Karachi. His funeral was attended by a large number of people at Sultan Mosque in the Defence Housing Authority, Karachi and his mortal remains were then transported to Rawalpindi the same day to his residence in Rawalpindi where he lived most of his life.

On December 29, 2001, he was laid to rest in the Army Graveyard in Rawalpindi amongst a throng of mourners, friends, relatives and well wishers who came to pay him their last respects.

In loss of Brigadier ® M. Alimuddin, the Rawalpindi city lost a true son of soil, an eminent ophthalmologist and above all a humble human being whose absence will be felt by generations to come and mourned by his family and well wishers for a long time.

Monday, October 25, 2010

Wanted: a feel-good moment

Wanted: a feel-good momentAdd Video

By Anjum Niaz
DAWN NEWS PAPER Sunday, 24 Oct, 2010

Chilean miner Luis Urzua gestures alongside President Sebastian Pinera (R) after reaching the surface from the San Jose mine, near Copiapo, Chile. – AFP Photo

In a cavern, in a canyon
Excavating for a mine
Dwelt miners sixty-niners
And their darling Chileantines

Sorry ‘Oh my darling Clementine’ composer. But I must rewrite your script to talk of the heroic “sixty-niners” who lived in entrapment cooped up in a small space half a mile under earth’s surface for 69 days. Unlike your song that laments the death of Clementine, the miner’s daughter, my story has a happy ending. Reason for the 33 gold diggers (no pun intended) survival? The untiring efforts of their president and the country he heads.

Chile pronounced ‘chillay’ or ‘she-lay’ grabbed the world’s attention on the night of October 12 when it began the rescue of the miners via a capsule named Phoenix and painted red, blue and white signifying the Chilean flag. President Pinera, smiling copiously, dressed in orange just like the others in the crowd with a helmet on his head, stood cheerfully at the spot called Camp Hope for hours waiting and welcoming the miners till the last one was out. No frills; no fuss; no hangers surrounded his persona. He hugged them with words like “Welcome to life;” An appropriate sentiment considering that no human in recorded history has survived that long underground.

Luis Alberto Urzua, the shift foreman who helped his colleagues survive and not lose hope during the first 17 days before Chileans discovered the men were alive, was the last to surface. In the weeks that followed, the world was captivated by their endurance and unity. “Hanging firm to discipline and collaboration held firm in the lightless, dank space,” wrote the New York Times, “Their perseverance has transfixed the globe with a universal story of human struggle and the enormously complex operation to rescue them.”

Said President Pinera after the national anthem, “We are more unified than ever. Unity, faith, commitment, loyalty and solidarity fills us with pride and we thank God.
Chile is ready for great things… Viva Chile. I would like to thank Chileans for showing the world the best of Chile. I am proud to be your president… this has been a big lesson for our government. We need to improve our system, our procedure to take better care and dignity of our workers. We owe it to Chileans. I am announcing a new treaty to the workers.”

Two months earlier, another president was in the news. Here in
America, while we watched every night the savagery of the Great Flood, foreign news media also telecast a jean-clad, tuckless shirted President Zardari holidaying in Paris at his 16th century chateau juxtaposed with the colossal failure of his government back home to handle the crisis. Amidst harrowing stories of the flood victims, we got an earful from foreign journalists of how the Pakistani government was caught unprepared and left the victims at the mercy of the elements. One felt angry to see, hear and read details of the corruption stories cropping up and the reticence of international donors to come forward with help. Photos of stretching hands and hordes of people pushing each other to grab the relief goods being distributed showed massive chaos, confusion, desperation and looting.

Wrote the
UK based Economist “It gives donors time to find effective ways to co-ordinate their help—ways that, where possible, should bypass Mr Zardari’s loose-fingered friends.” The Great Flood was an opportunity for the leaders to shine. Had they come out of their palaces and glass houses to supervise the relief operations with excellent planning and execution, the 170 million would have stood up to salute them and the world would have focused on their feats. Instead, all they earned was a bad name and disdain of international donors.

Pakistan ever get a government worthy of its citizens’ admiration? If one believes in miracles, why, yes of course! If Chile managed to shake off the yoke of its worst president General Augusto Pinochet, the most controversial figure in the history of Chile, there’s hope for us too. As head of the military junta that ruled Chile from 1973 to 1990, he enjoyed total control.

It is then not a pipedream for Pakistanis to hope for a feel-good moment like Chileans? The wait may be longer but it will happen one day.
Already, one hears such edifying stories of people going to the flood victims with relief goods to show their solidarity. Here’s one such story of a man called Razzaq in Kot Addu who has tended to 150 families encamped since July 28. Running out of rations, he sent an SOS to his brother-in-law Dr Babur Zahiruddin sitting 750 kms away, in Pindi. The Pakistan Thinkers Forum (PTF) promptly collected the rations and the Pakistan Ex-Servicemen Association (PESA) used their influence and arranged for a C-130 to airlift the two truckloads of donated stuff for their homeless brethren marooned on the other side of the Indus.

Yes, this indeed must be a feel-good moment for the 150 families knowing that they have not been forgotten. If only the leaders and the wealthy were the exemplars of such heedfulness, Pakistanis would have feel-good moments, times without number.

Saturday, October 16, 2010


Dear Friends

This is one of the emails that touches my soul..............

It was forwarded to me by one of my friends who requested to share it with my friends

since i read this email I have started living, I enjoy my living, Say hello to people whom I dont even know, give a pat to youngsters in the street, Help out people with small gestures and gifts....

When I look back on my life I am astonished that I have not lived my life till now.

All my yester years were in vain and I wasted my time in worrying, apprehension, tension and fear of the unknown ..

Dear friends............................... ENJOY your life

Make the most of it.......................

Because tomorrow may not be the same as today.....................

Please forward this email.....

Dr. Babur Zahiruddin

A friend of mine opened his wife's drawer and picked up a silk paper wrapped package:

'This, - he said - isn't any ordinary package.'

He unwrapped the box and stared at both the silk paper and the box.

'She got this the first time we went to
New York, 8 or 9 years ago. She has never put it on , was saving it for a special occasion.

Well, I guess this is it.

He got near the bed and placed the gift box next to the other clothing he was taking to the funeral house, his wife had just died.

He turned to me and said:

'Never save something for a special occasion.

Every day in your life is a special occasion'.

I still think those words changed my life.

Now I read more and clean less.

I sit on the settee without worrying about anything and just relax.

I spend more time with my family & friends and less at work.

Money is to be spent not saved.

I understood that life should be a source of experience to be lived up to, not survived through.

I no longer keep anything.

I use crystal glasses every day.

I'll wear new clothes to go to the supermarket, if I feel like it.

I don't save my special perfume for special occasions, I use it whenever I want to.

I go out with my friends whenever I want to rather than thinking I don't have the spare money or time.

The words 'Someday...' and ' One Day...' are fading away from my dictionary.

If it's worth seeing, listening or doing, I want to see, listen or do it now...

I don't know what my friend's wife would have done if she knew she wouldn't be there the next morning, this nobody can tell.

I think she might have called her relatives and closest friends.
She might call old friends to make peace over past quarrels.

She might have told everyone how much she loved them.

I'd like to think she would go out for Chinese, her favourite food.

It's these small things that I would regret not doing, if I knew my time had come..

Each day, each hour, each minute, is special.

Live for today, for tomorrow is promised to no-one.

If you got this, it's because someone cares for you and because, probably, there's someone you care about.

If you're too busy to send this out to other people and you say to yourself that you will send it
'One of these days' , remember that 'One day' is far away... or might never come...

No matter if you're superstitious or not, spend some time reading it. It holds useful messages for the soul.

Dr. Babur Zahiruddin

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Dear Friends

We have been concentrating in MALAKAND, SWAT and other areas for our relief activities when I got a frantic SOS from my brother-in - Law (RAZZAQ) in KOT ADDU.

He was desperate to give help to some affectees of the deluge along spur no. 3 and 4, about 2 kilometers upstream INDUS (TAUNSA BARRAGE)where about 150 families were encamped and he was looking after them since 28th July 2010 and he was running out of finances and Rations.

At the first instant I thought that this was a very difficult task for me as collecting Rations was one major problem and transporting these Rations to about 750 Kms by road was another problem.

But as they say WHERE THERE IS A WILL THERE IS WAY ......................................................

By chance about 2 weeks ago I mentioned this request in one of our PESA meeting with ACM Kaleem Saadat who said that he will look in to the matter.

I more or less forgot about this, but about 5 days ago I received an email from ACM Kaleem Saadat to collect the donations from Col. Bakhtiar Hakeem's residence which is the head quarters of Pakistan Thinkers forum (PTF).

I thought this will be a small consignment for relief effort so I went to collect it from PTF head quarters in my car.

When I went there I was amazed that they had collected one SHAHZOOR Load of 150 beddings which were complete in all respects for the coming winter.

They also told me that the 2 trucks loads of RATIONS had to be lifted from CSD Chaklala and I should lift every thing today because of lack of storage facility.

I started with the Truck for going to the ADDA for onwards dispatch to KOT ADDU by commercial trucks who were asking Rupees 15000/- per truck load to KOT ADDU.

When I was half way through that I got a call from ACM Kaleem Saadat that Charlie (slang for C-130) had been arranged for the transportation and I should deliver the goods to Air movement at Chaklala base.


At one time every thing seemed so difficult, arduous, intricate and a remote possibility to me having limited resources and man power but yet the combined cumulative, synergistic and symbiotic efforts of all the team members made this so easy.

I collected rest of the goods from CSD chaklala which was handed over to me by Col. Bakhtiar Hakeem another supporting and sporting personality out to help others for a altruistic cause.

It took me three (3) trips to PAF Base chaklala to deliver the goods which I finished by 1830 hours in the evening. My passage was greatly facilitated by the courtesy of ACM Keleem Saadat and I would like to also thank the LOAD MASTER S/t. Muktar at PAF base chaklala who accommodated me even after pack up hours.

The next was the flight of the Eagle from chaklala to Multan on Monday for which I was in close liaison with base commander Multan Gp. Capt Farhat Ali, who again was very helpful in the unloading and loading on to the trucks brought by Razzak to PAF base.

Finally the relief goods found their way from Multan to KOT ADDU onwards to upstream Indus and DERA DEEN PANAH, where they were distributed on Tuesday.

I would like to share this story with you and also THANK all those who helped me in making this episode a success.

Photographs of the whole journey process are attached for your viewing. some of the other pictures will come in a separate email.

Please join me in this crusade in my fight against poverty, disease, exploitation, ignorance and hunger.

........................................LET US ALL PROMISE TO MAKE THIS WORLD A BETTER PLACE TO LIVE...........................................

Always in need of your prayers,

Dr. Babur Zahiruddin
Social Activist

Saturday, June 26, 2010

K i n d n e s s

Dear friends..........

In this fast moving world I don't know how people find time for Love and Kindness when every one is busy materialistically running after money and worldly pleasures.

Again an email to share with you having the element of human compassion and kindness.

Please share this with your friends and your loved ones.

We must keep the flame of love hope and kindness burning eternally.

Best Regards

Dr. Babur Zahiruddin


One day, a poor boy who was selling goods from door to door to pay his way through school, he found he had only one single dime left and he was hungry. He decided he would ask for a meal at the next house. However he lost his nerve when a lovely young woman opened the door. Instead of a meal he asked for a drink of water.

The young women thought that he looked hungry so she brought him a large glass of milk.

He drank it slowly, and then asked in a low and humble tone, "How much do I owe you?"

"You don't owe me anything," she replied. "Mother has taught us never to accept

any thing in return for a kindness."

He said..."Then I thank you from my heart." As Howard Kelly left that house, he not only felt stronger physically, but his faith in God and man was strong also. He was so desperate and had been ready to give up and quit.

Year's later that young woman became critically ill. The local doctors were baffled with her illness. They finally sent her to the big city, where they called in specialists to study her rare disease.

Dr. Howard Kelly was called in for the consultation. When he heard the name of the town where she came from, a strange glow of light filled his eyes. Immediately he rose and went down the hall of the hospital to her room.

Dressed in his doctor's gown he went in to see her. He recognized her at once. He went back to the consultation room and made a resolve and determination to do his best to save her life. From that day he gave special attention to the case.

After a long struggle, the battle against the disease was won. Dr. Kelly requested the business office to pass the final bill to him for approval.

He looked at it and then wrote something on the edge and the bill was sent to her room. She feared to open it, for she was sure it would take the rest of her life to pay for it all. Finally she looked and something caught her attention on the side of the bill a few words were scribbled

She read these words..... "Paid in full with one glass of milk"

Dr. Howard Kelly

Tears of joy flooded her eyes as her happy heart prayed:

"Thank You, God, that Your love has spread everywhere through human hearts, minds and soul."

Please make it a point to remember people who are kind to you and to repay this kindness in whatever way you can.

Just by a Kind word this world can be a better place to live.

I have made my point...................................

What about you……...............…?


Dear Friends

As usual I receive many emails some times by the dozens. Some I delete some I forward and some I save in my hard drive for posterity.

Once in a Blue Moon I get a email which touches my inner feelings and jolts me to reality.

There are so many finer things in life that we miss because of our preoccupation or just by lethargy or carelessness.

This email I would like to share with you because it really touches me and brings my fond memories of my youth back to life.

May be it may inspire some one to help someone who really needs your help.

After all life is for caring and sharing, look after your loved ones and thank God that he has given you so much to live for.

Please read and forward:

Dr. Babur Zahiruddin

Social Activist


Twenty years ago, I drove a cab for a living. One time I arrived in

the middle of the night for a pick up at a building that was dark
except for a single light in a ground floor window.

Under these circumstances, many drivers would just honk once or twice,
wait a minute, then drive away. But I had seen too many impoverished
people who depended on taxis as their only means of transportation.
Unless a situation smelled of danger, I always went to the door. This
passenger might be someone who needs my assistance, I reasoned to
myself. So I walked to the door and knocked.

"Just a minute," answered a frail, elderly voice.

I could hear something being dragged across the floor. After a long
pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 80's stood before me. She
was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it,
like somebody out of a 1940s movie. By her side was a small nylon

The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the
furniture was covered with sheets. There were no clocks on the walls,
no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a
cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.

"Would you carry my bag out to the car?" she said. I took the suitcase
to the cab, then returned to assist the woman. She took my arm and we
walked slowly towards the cab. She kept thanking me for my kindness.

"It's nothing," I told her. "I just try to treat my passengers the way
I would want my mother treated."

"Oh, you're such a good boy," she said. When we got in the cab, she
gave me an address, then asked, "Could you drive through downtown?"

"It's not the shortest way," I answered quickly.

"Oh, I don't mind," she said. "I'm in no hurry. I'm on my way to a hospice."

I looked in the rear view mirror. Her eyes were glistening.

"I don't have any family left," she continued. "The doctor says I
don't have very long."

I quietly reached over and shut off the meter. "What route would you
like me to take?" I asked.

For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the
building where she had once worked as an elevator operator. We drove
through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they
were newlyweds. She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse
that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.

Sometimes she'd ask me to slow in front of a particular building or
corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.

As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said,
"I'm tired. Let's go now."

We drove in silence to the address she had given me.

It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway
that passed under a portico. Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon
as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every
move. They must have been expecting her. I opened the trunk and took
the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a

"How much do I owe you?" she asked, reaching into her purse.

"Nothing," I said.

"You have to make a living," she answered.

"There are other passengers."

Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me tightly.

"You gave an old woman a little moment of joy," she said. "Thank you."

I squeezed her hand, then walked into the dim morning light. Behind
me, a door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life.

I didn't pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly,
lost in thought. For the rest of that day, I could hardly talk. What
if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient to
end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked
once, then driven away?

On a quick review, I don't think that I have done anything more
important in my life. We're conditioned to think that our lives
revolve around great moments. But great moments often catch us
unaware—beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.