Stories about blood

The bloody world of dog fighting: Victory or death, there is no mercy!

Warning: This post contains graphic content.  With the ongoing global and national humanitarian crisis that I have been witnessing, working on and voicing out, I had never fathomed the thought of discovering a blood sport that would send shivers down my spine. It may seem outlandish to some in Pakistan to show unease over animal rights, while we all know a bit too well how our basic human rights are persecuted. Nonetheless, blood sport, of any kind, is never acceptable and should not be tolerated in any way. Recently, I came across a Facebook page that encouraged dog fighting. Then, I saw a few horrifying videos of this ...

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Having the thalassemia gene does not make you less marriageable

It’s not easy being a father when you know your child has a critical illness. I still remember the words of a thalassemia patient’s father when we were in search of a blood donor for his son, “Doctor Sahiba, log to meri shakal dekh ker hi munh pher lete hein ke phir aagaya hamara khoon nikalwane.” (Doctor, now when people look at me, they turn away, thinking that I’m back again to ask for blood.) It’s the same story with Ahsan, a four-year-old child diagnosed with thalassemia at the age of six months. His treatment initially began with blood transfusions every three months which ...

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Aids is a real disease, get out of your ‘conservative’ bubble and believe it!

Human Immunodeficiency Virus infection (HIV) is transmitted primarily via unprotected sexual intercourse including anal and even oral sex, contaminated blood transfusions, hypodermic needles and from mother to child during pregnancy, delivery and breastfeeding. There is no cure or vaccine for the virus and prevention is the key strategy to control the spread of the disease, primarily through safe sex and needle-exchange programs. However, anti-retroviral treatment can slow the course of the disease. Raising awareness about AIDS is a big issue, especially in Pakistan, because this is still considered one of the biggest social taboos in the country. I remember just last year the media reported that 15 blood ...

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Pak sarzameen shaadbaad

“Pak sarzameen shaadbaad” (Blessed be the sacred land) The old, rusty metal door made a creaking sound when the hunched attendant with crooked teeth and clubbed, callous fingers with dirty nails, opened it with a push of his shoulder. He took a drag from the cigarette hanging between his beetle nut stained lips and exhaled. The smoke made strange shapes before disappearing into the thick air. A lone, low wattage energy saver hung from the ceiling with a wire, the light it emitted made everything look ghastly. Not that there were many things worth seeing. The smell of tobacco got mixed with the strong ...

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Bilawal spoke against the militants, he has the blood of the Bhuttos of Larkana!

Time does not heal all wounds and this has been the case with the Pakistan Peoples Party (PPP). It can neither forget its scars nor can time heal them because this party – the party of martyrs – has come face-to-face with various tragedies over the past few decades. PPP’s leaders were hanged, they were sent to the gallows, were exiled and were executed judicially. However, in spite of all the persecutions by the state authorities, PPP remained committed to its basic principle of democracy. Since its very inception, this party has been struggling to inculcate a democratic society and a democratic ...

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Pakistan, a song of love and brotherhood

History tells us that all great nations were once not great. A nation like America had been war struck for more than 100 years. Racial inequality was at its peak in America. The economy was badly affected eight years ago. England too was war ridden for many years. China was once a collection of divided people with vastly differing aims. All great nations faced a plethora of problems before they became truly great. A citizen of the great Pakistan. Photo: Salman Javed I am citizen of a country where, Every day, Earth witnesses blood, The sky witnesses injustice, The sun sees poverty, The stars see slums. And the ...

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Being a nice guy

I was speeding away on my bike when I heard an agonised moan coming from a man, sprawled on the roadside. He was begging for help. I just couldn’t bring myself to drive away without stopping to see what had happened, because, let’s face it – I am Pakistani, and like all Pakistanis, I love a spectacle. I parked my bike close to the man and examined him. He was writhing in a pool of his own blood, twisting in agony. He had been hit badly and at this time of the night, I knew no one would come to ...

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‘Hijama Therapy’: The cups of cure

‘Hijama’ is derived from the word ‘hajm’ which means ‘sucking’. Cupping or Hijama is the process of applying cups at various points on the body to create a vacuum and then to suck the impure or harmful blood through the slightly incised skin surface. There are various, specific points on the body for cupping where the skin is pierced and then cups are applied to collect blood. Although often associated with traditional Chinese medicine, even the Egyptians and Greek used this therapy. Hijama therapy is effective in treating many conditions including digestive problems, joint and muscle pain, asthma, sciatica, fever, skin problems, low fertility ...

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With tears of blood and bodies cold

With tears of blood and bodies cold, We watched you watch the night unfold, With breaths entangled in a mesh, Sat beneath your brother’s flesh. We saw it under the murderous skies, We watched you as you watched them die, We saw your tears, we heard your cries, Pleading, screaming, asking ‘Why?’, Paving the way to distorted salvation, Blind to justice, deaf to persuasion, Rummaging through from nation to nation, Is this the fate of God’s fine creation? We heard you as your mothers’ wept, As bodies of their children slept, In boxes hard, in boxes cold, Listening to the tale unfold. A story of eighty seven lives, Dreams of who did not ...

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The day I met a mother of thalassemia inflicted children

It was a usual summer day in Peshawar, back in 2004, when I left my hostel to attend a lecture which was scheduled for the afternoon. The university was at walking distance, so keeping my notebook above my head to protect myself from the sun, I made my way there. I was about to enter the university, when I noticed a woman trying desperately to convince the security guard to allow her onto the university premises, whilst repeatedly wiping sweat off her brow with the corner of her clean, stark white chaadar. She seemed like she belonged to a decent family, wrapped ...

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