Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Sunday, August 14, 2011
There pass decades and experiences inscribe themselves on sections of sheet. Eyes seize back to millions, who in their kick laid down their lives for the cause of liberty - for the sake of a detached home, where the Muslims of the Sub Continent could direct their survives, according to the lessons of their belief. The labors of those legends bore crops and lastly, on August of 14, 1947, the Muslims won a sovereign homeland for themselves. The struggle, the budge, which pinched numerous broods from their mothers, left several waifs and strays -that all appeared nil in analysis of the loyalty of the Muslims and to conclude, there came a day to exult & express thanks to God for the huge consent, He’d bestowed them with. My country, Pakistan -the land of pure , the earth, with which respite anticipates of thousands and plunks as the core of Islamic Power _ The ground, hallowed with copious natural possessions, with beauty, with minerals and with creature clout -with people, so enthusiastic and devoted to their land -such is meant by my adored Pakistan.
A state, which was sanctified with trinkets, the world never got - I hold back to the folios of the country’s history after its establishment & the empathy twinges to realize too much, it lost - Two great leaders, universe ever witnessed. Pakistan,-Which was split up into pieces was saved by the Hero of the Muslim World, Quaid e Awam Shaheed Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto, who spoke out to his nation as “WE HAVE TO GATHER PIECES - VERY SMALL PIECES & MAKE A NEW PAKISTAN - A PROSPEROUS PAKISTAN”. He proved his ardor to this nation, when a dictator got him hanged, just because of his promise to provide Bread, Clothing & Shelter to the people of Pakistan & make it an atomic power. The world cannot close its eyes to the struggle and forfeits of my dearly loved leader Shaheed Benazir Bhutto, who always preferred her country to her personal reassures and returned to her land after years of exile, just to save it, Aware of all the threats, she valiantly fought for her country & at last, gave her blood for it .
This soil of Pakistan is filled with blood of our leaders & it’s we, who need to stride to save this PAKISTAN and make it a Pakistan of Benazir’s dreams - A Pakistan, free of poverty, illiteracy, diseases, unemployment & dictatorship.
Wedged in cavernous slumbers,
I get mislaid in dreams,
I look at a wilt,
Emerald & ashen,
With a falcate & star,
With all its glamour,
Greater than that of a sun,
Immense than the stars,
Where lies a scrutiny of rapture,
My country’s flurry roofed crests,
And the beckons of its waterways,
The absconds and unadorned,
Lime & russet,
I get lost in the exquisiteness of my motherland!
I heed the birds twittering,
The accent of my beloved leader,
Yes! My mentor Benazir Bhutto,
Thumps my heart,
I feel someone clasping me,
Giving me audacity,
Valor to facilitate my member countrymen,
To move with far getting intentions,
To carry conviction,
Superior enough to defy obstacles,
To save - to shield this land,
Even if my own life’s its cost…
Then, I embrace to her,
The redeemer of this land,
Still with apparition,
Hope in her eyes,
For a Pakistan,
Strong & thriving,
I move on with an endeavor,
We’ve to fulfill our Bibi’s vision,
And make this Pakistan,
A Benazir Pakistan!
Which can never be shattered,
By earthquakes, too colossal,
For this terra firma carries in it,
Too much blood,
Blood of the martyrs…
Pakistan has come to exist forever!!!!
LONG LIVE PAKISTAN!
HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY!
Without Pakistan, we’re like a body, without soul.
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
“Bhutto” is no longer the name of an individual or of a family, but it is the name of a birthright and is the crest of a crusade, which always elevated its influence against despotism and prejudice, against paucity and bigotry - and against disarray and restiveness. To this day, the BHUTTO has become the name of that family, which stood determinedly against every genus of totalitarianism and regardless of the actuality that they themselves had two diverse conduits to go on- an enormously deluxe and splendid life or the second one- an agonizing death…The disciples of Bhutto-ism always gave predilection to the second alternative and thereby, chose a way to make their lives, an exemplar for the coming generations to tag along and be conceited of.
“TO LIVE ONE DAY LIKE A LION IS BETTER THAN TO LIVE HUNDRED YEARS LIKE A JACKAL”. The originator of Bhutto-ism - the person, who laid the naissance stone of a world wide family known as Pakistan Peoples Party spent his intact life, working for the affluence of his nation and to grant them “Bread, Clothing & Shelter” , which in the face of being the indispensable requirements of life were not accessible to a large number of Pakistani inhabitants. He fought courteously against the military rule of Ayub Khan and tried his best to bring about a genuine democratic system in Pakistan and make his nation, one of the developed ones in the world. It was the time, when the people and especially poor ones had not even a single shoulder to cry on. It was only “Bhutto”, who despite facing such thorny circumstances did not at all care for the skulks. His visualization became a quintessence of clout - people’s power, which merely belonged to the commons of the state. The lay man too, from his point of view held right on the state in much the same way, as the ruler of the country.
Egalitarianism and bringing classlessness, as the result of a resistance is not trouble-free -not undemanding to bring about and more accurately, where every one has power ravenousness, where all are famished before the chair and how can one with wholly different contemplations , much earnest initiatives, more resolute vision endure amongst such brutes. Democracy and the affection of people for their leader after all, overwhelmed dictatorship and yes, it gave it a devastating defeat - an undying and mortifying one.
5th July, 1977 - The sinister day in the history of Pakistan , when the Government of the founder Chairman of Pakistan Peoples Party Quaid e Awam Shaheed Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto was eliminated by the then tyrant Zia ul Haq, and thereby, Pakistan came under the longest era of Martial Law ever since its underpinning. Moments were too awful. Amidst murky nights, the end of a democratic Government, followed by the judicial murder of ZA Bhutto and those three months for the elections, which never existed seemed to strangle every being on the planet. July 5 – That was the black day for dismantling the Constitution of Pakistan. It was the nerve of Pakistan Peoples Party & only Pakistan Peoples Party, which faced all these obstacles and murders with patience and sagacity, for we deem, neither in prisons, nor in bullets, but DEMOCRACY is our vengeance and that in the end, it is the forces of democracy & justice, which triumph.
Perceptibly, the 4th of April, 1979 appeared to be the red letter day for the confrontational forces, but that is a verity that some cannot comprehend - Yes, they are too scrawny enough to appreciate divinity’s commands. Reinhold Neibuhr’s words are of course, a fine yearning for them “God, grant me the serenity to accept the things, I cannot change, courage to change the things, I can and the wisdom to know the difference”.
The bereavement statement was a declaration, which nature considered as the time of making Bhutto an immortal and giving him a perpetual life - that existence, which is never to cease. Bhutto was dangled, but not his revelation - he gave up his life and died the death of a martyr, that demise, which not everyone is auspicious to get. Even after his death, his assassins dreaded from the dead “BHUTTO”, for they too believed that despite all, whatever they did, Bhutto is alive, and whatsoever, they may attempt, they cannot murder Bhutto. Today too, not only the adherents of Bhutto, but his rivals too call out Zinda Hai Bhutto, Zinda Hai…Bhutto is the undivided voice of the people of Pakistan. Bhutto is the vanquisher of hearts and lives in every essence.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
BENAZIR – I screech out to top of the volume, as much as my larynx could afford. Engraving the name “Benazir” – it fills my eyes with tears & breaks my heart into trillions. I ramble here and there, oblivious, hopeless and comatose in the boulevards packed with blood. Where is my Benazir?? I bellow, but there wasn’t anyone to rejoinder me, I’ve been asking the same from the dismal sun, the shadowy moon and the hushed winds – were they too insensitive enough to overlook a young girl’s cries? I continue to saunter in dimness; no one is there to provide me with a candle to cope with the sinister night. I’ve been listening to the rumbles of the scavengers, but there is no one in the entire world to shield me. Every face appeared to have transformed, for I could scarcely find a smile on the face the most vicious person on the earth. I fall in a deep sea – too unfathomable for me to drown into it. It is blood, and I can feel a perpetual placate in it, but why?? I utter it again and again “Please – take me to my Benazir”, no one is paying any heed to my words. “This blood would not go waste” – It appears the voice of my life’s sole fervor. Again, I hear: “To you, the youth, we pass the torch of leadership, baptized in the sacred blood of our martyrs”. Don’t tell me, it’s your blood; every single breath of mine is associated with you, you can’t be killed. “You can kill a man, but not an idea” – I hear a voice like Benazir’s repeatedly: “You cannot murder a legacy”. – it was the murkiest night of my life, when I lost my leader Shaheed Mohtarmah Benazir Bhutto, but her blood did give me some courage to take a gulp of air.
June 21, 1953 – the sun rose from the East and blessed the world with the Daughter of the East. The baby with “pinky” cheeks was destined to be the “Benazir” of Pakistan and struggle to make a “Benazir” Pakistan. Brought up with immense fondness, no one could ever reckon that “Pinky” would have to battle against so many vultures. Her existence began with optimism. As a student of Harvard and Oxford, her empathy would only pound for Pakistan and she had dedicated her life to making her country a prosperous one. Despite living in deluxe, she had an enormous revere and love for her native land’s mores and rituals. Blessed with amazing qualities of head and heart, Pinky had to materialize the vision of and fulfill the anticipations of her father, from whom she inherited the love and concern for the people. Her struggle from the first female foreigner to win the presidency of the prestigious Oxford Debating Society to the youngest and the first ever Muslim woman to head a Muslim state is a fable of anguishes and bloodshed, and of tortures and exiles. A young girl, whose father was previously murdered by Zia ul Haq, was now the victim of the tyrannies of the same predator, who left no opportunity to harm her, but Benazir did face all with patience and in the end, it is the forces of democracy and justice which triumph. Her endeavor to bring about an egalitarian government in Pakistan was though, filled with thorns, but the December of 1988 gave a fatal trounce to the dictators and proved the authenticity in the words of Quaid e Awam Shaheed Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto: “My daughter Benazir would become Benazir in the history of the Sub – Continent”.
During her terms as the Prime Minister of Pakistan, Mohtarmah Benazir Bhutto worked assiduously to assist the underprivileged of her state and make Pakistan, an exemplary nation for the rest of the Muslim World to follow, but the heirs of Zia ul Haq couldn’t stomach the development of the state and continued to conspire to terminate democracy and ended up making fake corruption charges against her and her husband. Every being is forced to bow in admiration of her courage, who, despite facing grave hardships did not discontinue to fight for democracy and the rights of her people. The days of her exile, during which she had to attend to her ailing mother, look after the kids and prove the innocence of her captured husband ache every heart. Though, the realities were too vindictive, but Benazir returned to her state with a BENAZIR nerve, audacity - that was nowhere else to be found. Copious chanting out for Benazir & of course, the world can never close eyes to the martyrs of Karsaz, who gave up their own lives to shield their leader & so many, who became crippled. History never witnessed a day like October 18, 2007 – The day, when the soil of Pakistan gained its life, as Benazir’s feet touched it.
“Despite threats of death, I will not acquiesce to tyranny, but rather lead the fight against it” and the cost of this fight was her blood and she willingly gave even the last drop of it for her motherland. To this day, no one can impede the world from chanting out “ZINDA HAI BIBI, ZINDA HAI”, for she dwells in every psyche and rules the humankind from her grave. Those, who assassinated her were too naïve to the fact that Bhutto –ism has come to exist forever & Benazir lives in the form of President Asif Ali Zardari, Bilawal, Bakhtawar and Aseefa Bhutto Zardari. She, indeed, is a source of eternal guidance for us and her struggle and sacrifice sets an instance for the future generations to follow. Whatever I am this day, I owe it to her inspiration and no one can substitute for the vacuum, created by her brutal assassination.
“I know death comes. I’ve seen too much death, young death.”
MY BENAZIR LIVES…….
Happy Birthday :)
Sunday, April 10, 2011
THE SEA OF SUPPORT_ FOR DEMOCRACY AND THE OTHER NAME OF DEMOCRACY_ BENAZIR BHUTTO _ By Saria Benazir
“"Jeevay, jeevay, Bhutto jeevay! Live, live, Bhutto live!" the crowds roared
in Punjabi, a sentiment that just three months before would have cost them
rigorous imprisonment and lashes. "Munjhe bhen, thunje bhen, Benazir—My
sister, your sister, Benazir," others called out in Sindhi. There were slogans in
Urdu, in Pashto, in every dialect of every region in Pakistan. "Benazir, ay gi,
Inqilab ly gi—Benazir will come, revolution will come," our supporters had said
before my return. Now they called out loudly, "Benazir ay hai, inqilab ly hai—
Benazir has come, revolution has come." When I waved, the crowds waved.
When I clapped my hands over my head as my father had done, the crowds
clapped back, their upraised arms undulating like ripples on a vast field of wheat.”
The 10th of April, 1986 was a red letter day in the history of Pakistan, so was it in the narration of the world_ when it witnessed the dauntless leader_ the Daughter of Destiny, who had lost her father and young brother _ both of them, who had laid down their lives, fighting for the rights of their people during the Martial Law of Zia ul Haq and this day, the daughter of a martyred father stood on the same grime of Pakistan, aiming to accomplish the delusions of her father and provide “Bread , Clothing and Shelter” to the people of her state_ She returned to provide justice to all_ to hand over the power to her people_ Yes, to give every influence to the commons of her state _ Although, she knew of all possible threats in the way of her aspirations and of course, at this time too, the same Zia ul Haq was ruling Pakistan_ Benazir came and she came with an optimism_ a hope of a vivid and glorious future_ of incredible moments_ of continuing the bequest of her father_ of bringing an era of prosperity in her state_ Yes! It was the valor of Benazir and only Benazir Bhutto.
That great instant_ when Benazir stepped on the soil of her beloved Pakistan were indeed, unforgettable ones _ The titanic sea of support for the woman of century, who was at last, back to her own land, after years of sufferings _ of prison, of exile, of house imprisonment, but one thing remained palpable that Benazir Bhutto was never going to quit_ She was never going to stay back from her commitment to bringing democracy_ The rule of the people, for the people and by the people in Pakistan. The support of the crowds was spectacular_ Every eye was waiting to catch a glimpse of her _ every ear, impatient to listen a few words from her and the soil of Pakistan _ waiting dreadfully to feel the touch of Benazir’s feet on its domain _ that was the day of merriment_ Finally, the people felt a reprieve after their decade of suffering under the government, based on the lame slogan of Narai Haq, Zia ul Haq…This day, even his supporters forgot that slogan and raised their voice with the patriots, Narai Bhutto, Jeay Bhutto….
“Home. I was home. As I stepped onto Pakistani soil, I paused to feel the
earth under my feet, to breathe the air of which I was a part. I had flown into
Lahore many times. I had spent many happy times here. But it was also the city
where my father had been condemned to death. Now I was coming back to
challenge his murderer, the general who had committed high treason by
overthrowing the Constitution.”
Benazir Bhutto _ who was by this time, the crest of democracy . An icon of people’s power and federation _ who by this time had faced all cruelties_ every torment, but stood firm on her manifesto “ Islam is our religion. Democracy is our policy. Socialism is our economy. All power to the people and Martyrdom is our destination”. The world of Pakistan had altered_ the perspective was roofed with the red, green and black flags of Pakistan Peoples Party _ The world was watching the sea of support for democracy _ which could not be failed by the dictator of the time Zia ul Haq, _ who was by the time, too deprived _ Yes….. He was too scrawny to defy the preference and covet of the people_ for every heart, every voice cried out BENAZIR, BENAZIR_ BENAZIR_ SARAY SOBO KI ZANJEER_ PHOLO KI MEHAK BENAZIR, and BULBUL KI CHEHAK BENAZIR……
“There are moments in life which are not possible to describe. My return to
Lahore was one of them. The sea of humanity lining the roads, jammed on
balconies and roofs, wedged in trees and on lampposts, walking alongside the
truck, and stretching back across the fields, was more like an ocean. The eight mile
drive from the airport to the Minar-i-Pakistan in Iqbal Park usually takes
fifteen minutes. On the unbelievable day of April 10, 1986, it took us ten hours.
The figure of one million people at the airport grew to two million, then three
million by the time we reached the Minar-i-Pakistan.
Hundreds of colored balloons soared into the sky as the airport gates
opened. Rose petals, not tear gas, filled the air, showering onto the truck until
they rose above my ankles. Garlands of flowers flew through the air. I saw a girl
whose brother had been hanged and threw a garland to her. More garlands were
thrown onto the truck, as were hundreds of handmade dupattas and shawls. I put
one dupatta after another on my head and slung others on my shoulder. When
we passed former political prisoners I recognized in the throng, I threw flowers
and the embroidered cloths to them as well as to the families of those who had
been hanged or tortured, and the young and very old women who lined the route.
The black, green, and red colors of the PPP seemed the only colors in
Lahore that day. PPP banners and flags billowed in the dry, hot breeze until they
formed an almost continuous canopy. People were wearing red, green, and black
vests, dupattas, shalwar khameez, hats. Donkeys and water buffalo had PPP
ribbons braided into their manes and tails. The same colors rimmed photographs
and posters of my father, my mother, my brothers, me.”
Everything had transformed _ All foes of democracy had gone into sixes and sevens, after seeing the gigantic crowd of millions of people_ waiting for Benazir and giving a warm welcome to Benazir_ Promising to stay with her_ vowing to support her under all circumstances_ The Pakistan Peoples Party became the undisputed voice of the people of Pakistan_ The rivals of Pakistan Peoples Party too were compelled to call out ZINDA HAI BHUTTO ZINDA HAI, seeing that cavernous adoration for Bhutto ism among the hearts of the people.
Long Live Shaheed Mohtarmah Benazir Bhutto.
“YOU CAN’T MURDER A LEGACY”.
Monday, April 4, 2011
Closing the observes to details is though, quite easier than moving forwards and accommodating the certainty and in actuality, most of the people are much used to fancy the first option over the other one. Opposed to it, when ones peeps into the realities, the points of truth, we’d unquestionably come across a tart avowal by our autocrats, who assert egalitarianism to be the “FORBIDDEN” fruit for the residents of the Islamic Republic of Pakistan. Certainly, democracy has gone through great trials here and of course, one cannot rebuff the implication of the Bhutto family, which has everlastingly played a role in strengthening democracy and handing over the clout to the people of Pakistan. Times have been quite pitiless, undeniably, Pakistan Peoples Party never gave up and continued with its struggle for making Pakistan a prosperous state _ a place, where poor, and under dumped get their rights and do hold nerve to raise their voice for what they necessitate.
Founded on the name of Islam and declaring the state a democratic republic, what did democracy in Pakistan accomplish? The basis of Pakistan Peoples Party which was a mile stone in enlivening the democratic system in Pakistan, but what then happened..?? The founder Chairman, who saved the Pakistan after the episodes of December 1971, who aimed to assemble those wrecked pieces of the state and make a new Pakistan _ a perfect & progressive one, who vowed to provide Bread, Clothing & Shelter and promised to raise the standard of living of the natives and notwithstanding meeting with stiff opposition urged to make Pakistan a nuclear power even if the people had to eat grass and what did he himself get as a compensation to his indefatigable efforts for making Pakistan a world power..??? What incentive did he get for his stupendous courage and vividness? _ Some thing else than prisons _ assassination attempts and finally a judicial murder...
What did we bequeath him with? Merely him, nay! But every worker of Pakistan Peoples Party & every affiliate of the Bhutto family _ the hangers-on of the predator Zia ul Haq, who did not even leave the last hope “BENAZIR BHUTTO” for Pakistan.
Eyes filled with scratches,
The sensitivity slithers on frequent thumps,
For I cannot get the valid connotation,
Of the remark equality,
Or the peoples authority,
That meant in my dust,
In my backdrop,
How can I endure all going around me..
Can’t I avoid this annoyance…
O My God! Help Me….
My terra firma………….
I stagger of a lengthy saga of sufferings,
Of lengthened afflicts,
Far out of psyche,
Not capable of accepting the verities,
All I can see is a void pustule,
Resting in my obverse,
A murky crack in the heart,
All around me,
Wherever I see….
The eyes catch sight of flags,
Red, green and black,
Ears heed slogans,
Voices of democracy,
Of course, my beloved party’s manifesto,
Chahta Hai Har Insaan,
Roti, Kapra Aur Makaan…
I stare around,
And see an insurgency,
Transformation in the very face of Pakistan,
The leader of the state,
Determined to make this state a strong one,
Able to shield its territories,
A Pakistan, free of paucity,
Disease and illiteracy….
The heart melts to see,
Gosh! A military coup,
Lead by a dictator,
Opposed to democracy,
Committed to slay it,
For what was its fault..???
Till this day,
I can never get it…
My life, too suffocated,
I’m fed up,
My eyes filled with tears of blood,
For all I can see around me,
This soil is filled with blood….
It never vanished till this day….
FOREVER ENDURE THE BHUTTO LEGACY!
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
When one glances into the record of Pakistan Peoples Party, one will stumble on it _ but a long history of struggle and sacrifices and indisputably, unfolding them is not even that unproblematic, but necessitates a lot of audacity as the heart melts to see all, that the party , its workers and its leadership faced from the very first day and when mentioning the individuals’ thrash about, the part of Mohtarma Nusrat Bhutto Isphahani is worth mentioning_ Rolling back the pages of PPP’s history, one will find her manifest part in Pakistani politics, for from the inauguration, she strived against the Martial Law of Ayub Khan and further more, it was the same lady, who played a great part in the reinstatement of egalitarianism in Pakistan, following Zia’s regime.
Indeed, the Pakistani nation owes to the great woman of substance Mohtarma Nusrat Bhutto_ who, _ from the commencement, bore great hardship for the cause of a Pakistan, where there was a self-ruled Government_ a Pakistan, free from unawareness and ailments, a Pakistan_ where women were given respect, a Pakistan_ where the dejected ones got justice, a Pakistan_ where everyone had the basic facilities of life and a Pakistan, where Bread, Clothing and Shelter were accessible to all. Certainly, the same Pakistan_ The same kind of Pakistan was the apparition of our Quaid e Awaam_ our party’s founder Shaheed Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto and yes!! One cannot refute this verity too that accomplishing this vision requires an extra deal of resistance to every sort of snag, for the way, leading to the purpose of a flourishing Pakistan is not an easy one_ this route is filled with complications and giving up means giving up every likely hope for a vivid future.
The world might not have elapsed the great instants of November 25, 1967 , when the party was formed for the poor and common people of Pakistan_ providing a prospect for all to gather under the flag of PAKISTAN PEOPLES PARTY. The underpinning was not easy too, the leadership suffered a lot in the preliminary stages, but God assists those, who help themselves and He always supports the right_ He’s always with impartiality_ the party succeeded in putting an end to the authoritarianism of Ayub Khan and after the massive triumph of PPP in the upcoming elections, the PPP got an opportunity to make Pakistan, one of the strongest nations of the world, but that wasn’t just to say_ democracy has always faced stern challenges in Pakistan and the government faced a major obstacle in the form of Zia ul Haq , who not only threw up an elected Government, but also snatched from the world, a gleaming leader_ The tiger of Asia_ Shaheed Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto – “The LEADER of the PEOPLE”.
That April 4 , 1979 transformed the political phase of Pakistan and from there followed great decades of sufferings and catastrophes for the Iron lady of Pakistan Nusrat Bhutto Isphahani , who firstly, lost her husband_ while struggling for Pakistan and thereafter, fighting for righteousness_ that woman_ that wife, who wasn’t even permitted to see her martyred husband at the last moments _ it was the same woman, who valiantly fought for the revival of democracy, along with her young daughter Benazir Bhutto. The trail , leading to this was too unsympathetic_ it was filled with blood and this thrash about made her lose all her valuables_ she lost her vigor_ for during strikes, even the women were beaten viciously on the thoroughfares under the instructions of the so called President – General Zia ul Haq _ Is this called his so- called Islamization that against the verdicts of Islam, women were desecrated, but at last, a point came, when the soldiers rebuffed to recognize his orders, and instead, paid acknowledgment to the greatness of those women, who were struggling for their nation_ what a larger blight is meant for those autocrats than this…???
It was the same audacious woman, who lost her young sons, Shahnawaz and Murtaza, _ the rationale, well known to everybody that democratic system is the outlawed crop for the establishment of Pakistan , which when found no other way to smother it_ went on adding blood to the Bhutto inheritance_ to the bequest of the Pakistan Peoples Party. Later, the PML-N Government, lead by Nawaz Sharif left no effort of adding on her encumbers, more cases of corruption, which were scarcely in her acquaintance_ this day, this lady is a victim of a stroke and Alzheimer’s disease_ that mother, who after losing two young sons has even lost her beloved Benazir_ her Pinky, but is oblivious that she, now dwells under the soil of Garhi Khuda Bux Bhutto.
This day_ My empathy cracks into trillions to say that March 23, 1929 gave birth to a woman_ merely for facing hardships_ losing all her adored ones, but undeniably, she is a LIVING MARTYR and I behold if anyone covets to see a martyr on the surface of Earth_ in this present world, let him gaze at Nusrat Bhutto_ who has lost all_ lost her everything for Pakistan.
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE IRON LADY OF PAKISTAN”.
Your struggle & sacrifices would always remain a golden part of PPP’s History of Blood!
Sada Jeay Bhutto!