UNDER A BED OF ROSES…._ by Saria Benazir

Nevertheless, instants are too sturdy,
Circumstances, more than unsympathetic,
I slam my ogles,
But unquestionably, details cannot be starved of,
Or is that unfeasible to rebuff realities,
And yet, too durable,
Even pungent to facade them,
And acknowledge in their occurrence…
Alike is my allegory…

A day, taking away my inhalation,
I see a wonderful audacity at a consign,
I perceive sound of hope,
Applauds and screeches of support,
Catchphrases of change,
And of course, perils were palpable too,
Still, things went right,
The day, which led me undergo,
Sense nature for the foremost time,
Though, I’d read in novels,
And in tales of the past,
This day, perpetuity was showing me…
The clock walloped a point,
A minute of living,
Which transformed it..

Aah! A throbbing memento,
O No! Life’s not viable,
The beginning was sever off from neck,
A single more gulp of air,
That appeared out of my potency,
Left without expect,
Without a single to cope,
To even utter a word of heroism,
To leave a hand on shoulder,
Was left alone in the world,
A world of extremists,
Of people, who’re sightless to realities,
Deaf to the truth,
Dumb to articulate for the right,
And classlessness,
It was their forbidden fruit….

Eyes thump to a massive sea,
Numerous, showing their love,
Copious like me,
Who bore no compassion,
Nor wits to recognize this mourning,
The angst of losing the prettiest seraph,
God had ever hallowed this nation…
Ah! Moments…they went indignant,
And time, It was never to stop,
Though, death’s inevitable,
But that was not death,
It was a woman martyred,
The Daughter of Destiny,
Taken too brutally,…

But still, genuineness holds,
And martyrs by no means die…
Empathy, not too burly,
Vocabulary, not too enormous,
Feelings, far out of perceptive,
Expressing them…
Out of attain….
The day, the firmament wept,
Birds lost their appealing voices,
Still, heart strikes to see a grave,
A martyred buried,
Not under mire,
But a bed of roses…

The day, which revolutionized my life,
Gave me a hallucination to struggle for,
A target to accomplish,
As life has got nothing to do,
Nothing in her nonexistence,
Still, her charisma can be felt,
In the aroma of roses,
In the songs of birds,
In the beckons of the sea,
In every stir of air,
This always speaks,
Benazir is alive…
Benazir is alive….

Regards,
Saria Bhutto Benazir.

It’s a myth of blood ….. _ By Saria Benazir

Grasping the certainty,
However, pretty tricky,
Much exasperating too,
For scores of others,
Still, appearing to details,
Moving to the realism,
Hard-hitting more than anything else,
Making a being,
Gosh! It’s not without a risk,
Moving with the aspires,
None is going to consent,
Too big, a nuisance…

Gawk at the precedent,
Glance into the prospect,
Gaze at the nearby,
All’s hauling in it,
Stacks filled of distress,
Of gargantuan bias,
Of mammoth heartbreak,
Of hefty eruditions,
Lord! Is that proper too…
Why the thing’s wolfing me up!!!

O My God! Grant me the tranquility,
A flash shortly,
Wedged in yawning catnap,
I hold to a world of delusions,
A horrendous one,
The eyes shut over,
And take me to observe,
Cherry, olive & black distinctiveness,
Ah! A prominent one,
Waving in the firmament,
Facts, pretty terrible,
I sense a lash,
Fixed around my neck,
The sensation of suffocation,
I’d never disregard,
Oh…that was a murky nighttime…

Minutes anon,
I get an eccentric fortitude,
Courage, nowhere to be found,
Brilliance, not too ordinary,
Yes!
The ocean of prop up,
And above that,
The vigor of determination,
All was unparalleled..

Empathy starts throbbing,
Ears go hearing-impaired,
And eyes blind,
The tongue,
Vulnerable to sheer a single word,
Lying on the earth was blood…!
Ohh!!! Truly, the gravel was scarlet…

Indeed, it’s a parable of blood!

Long Live Bhutto-ism..


Regards,
Saria Benazir.

Bring me My Benazir back….Saria Benazir

My ogles are filled with snuffle,
I plunk with a wrecked empathy,
My verve, trapped in billions regrets,
My daylight hours, like if survival has seized,
My instant, repeating of anguish,
Such piercing accidents,
I’ve never faced..
Can never gaze up to them…
I don’t have that much courage,
To breathe without a personality,
Closer to me as anyone else,
Who skilled me to articulate,
To reside…,
To escort the life,
To act to the people around me,
To envisage about my community,
To have my essence in the dust,
To give this terra firma inclination over anything else,
To survive with audacity,
To face every situation with gallantry,
To believe in the help of God,
To have compact confidence in democracy,
In the clout of the commons…
Benazir Bhutto,..It was you…
You made me discover that all…
Bibi _ I did it all….
Where should I go…
Where to acquaint with you…
Please! Return me my Benazir Bhutto,
Bring her back to me……

The watches grab vista of an agonizing phenomenon,
The grime of Garhi Khuda Bux Bhutto,
Too huge, but a pebble empathy it has got,
For it lost all of its sparklers,
Still, the origin of anticipate,
The centre of factions,
Thrash about for democracy,
It always gave confinement to the laudable people,
Who were wholly affiliated to their mud,
Though epochs were too ruthless,
They even gave up their blood,
This day, Benazir Bhutto,
The terrain of Larkana suppurates out,
Get me my Benazir back…


I spot your legacy,
The bequest filled with blood,
Owned by the redeemer of Pakistan, Asif Ali Zardari,
I heed him articulate Pakistan Khappay,
I listen to him dub out,
If you want to subsist like Benazir,
Learn to deal with living like her..
I see your glance in Bilawal,
His speeches, truly grasping your apparition,
The hallucination, you’d struggled for all your life..
Your words, embossed on his psyche,
Democracy is the greatest reprisal,
I see your adored Aseefa and Bakhtawar,
Carrying totally your manifestation,
In the means of their lives,
The act of their demeanor,
I perceive my Benazir,
Completely heart ached,
I’m standing in the world,
Devoid of Benazir….

The instant of life calls out,
Bring me back my Benazir…
Oh! It’s June 21,
Bring me back my Benazir….

Regards,
Saria Bhutto Benazir.

The World gets in Centuries…..Saria Benazir

Breezes were puffing,
The blue was flaking rips,
The terrain, that had gone drenched,
It was daylight of June,
The propitious day for mankind,
Fetching about a trust,
An anticipate…….
Wholly a wish….
A day in 1953,
This held the planet in it,
Yes! In not for any being else,
But my existence in it…
That was not a reverie,
A large legitimacy,
I’d seen it with unwrapped ogles…
Though, might it have been a marvel,
Leaders like Benazir,
The world gets in centuries…

The dust of Larkana,
This exalted the world,
With such a nerve,
Such a psyche,
Which fought all days for the people..
Of course, my article of argument,
My centre of dependence,
It’s the woman of century,
The truly Benazir…

Benazir ,.,,,,…
I witness her incredible loveliness,
Exquisiteness of considerations,
Of appearance, like a rose,
Splendor of intents,
Who pondered to make the world,
This gravel, a situate,
Secure to subsist in….
To all my deliberations,
Those clasp the utterance,
A distinct word Benazir,
Though merely a person's name,
But the verve of a teenager,
The ardor of a girl,
The purpose of Saria…

When I have a scrutiny,
On the life of my intrepid leader,
The life, packed with great effort,
Struggle against bias,
The unfair slay of her father,
And the Martial Law Government,
The canon of scavengers,
Where even taking a single gulp of air,
It was harder, even than bereavement.

Fighting against the clutches of dictatorship,
And the fake corruption charges,
And bearing the murders of her young brothers,
The hardships of an ailing mother,
The quandaries, faced by incarcerated husband...
And over that, enormous errands of relations,
Of leading the party,
Continuing with the martyred father’s legacy,

My leader_ Benazir,
Who was compelled to reside in exile,
Far away from her mother land,
But the instants of come back,
I feel hard to line in words,
The knight in shining armor of democracy,
In the insignia of her land…
Who by no means let her valor down,
in spite of receiving hundreds threats,
An atrocious world,
A murky afternoon,
It took away the princess of Indus,
My peak zeal…

Though, they took you from us,
So callously,
We miss you too badly,
Still, we’re left with your bequest,
A blood filled heritage…

Still, every second coerces me to say,
Leaders like Benazir,
The world gets in centuries…

Happy Birth day Benazir Bhutto!

Regards,
Saria Bhutto Benazir!
Jeay Bhutto!

Benazir_ A “Benazir” Verve…! _ Saria Benazir

The empathy twinges,
The eyes gleam with shreds,
The essence gets missing,
The wits get void,
The eardrum ruptures,
The clatter fails in the gorge,
Oh my God!
The years gash into portions,
In apprehension & melancholy,
The flashes of exodus,
My life’s getting to stop …
Penetrating into all the dictionaries,
I stumble on not a sole word,
Capable to portray you,
To delineate you,
To articulate your exquisiteness,
Visibly beyond compare,
To eulogize your vividness,
Unmistakably with no identical,
To value your gallantry,
That no one else could ever have,
My idyllic..
My fanaticism…
It was none besides Benazir…

Princess of the Mehran Valley,
The sovereign of Indus,
The Daughter of fortune,
The flare of egalitarianism,
The crest of optimism,
The paradigm of audacity,
Each phase of my Benazir’s life,
That was extremely Benazir...
Her origin,
The City of Lights,
The alluring sun of June 21,
Brought with it a divination,
A prophecy of the influx of Benazir,
Benazir _The only Dad’s Pinky,
That Benazir,
Whom the world discerns by the name,
The Daughter of East & ,
The Champion of Democracy..
The unmoved Benazir,
About whom Mr. Bhutto said,
My Daughter Benazir would become “Benazir”,
“Benazir” in the narration of the Sub – Continent”.

Who can have the guts to evaluate?
To balance own self with her,
Who after losing her father,
Did not refrain from her struggle,
Her whip about for a Pakistan,
Making it a terra firma of her father’s imaginings.
Benazir_ My fearless leader,
Who fought against the cruelties,
Of the numerous scavengers,
In the endeavor,
Losing two of her brothers,
Leaving a sick mother,
The husband incarcerated,
And she herself banished,
With colossal saddle of responsibilities,
She’d to clutch with herself..

There, I stumble on her pluck,
The intrepidness, with which she faced all,
Forever an instance for all worlds to follow,
Who still had the same adore for a nation,
For a territory,
That gave her zilch,
Nothing in addition to sufferings,
Soreness,
And made her spot nothing,
But prejudice and massacres….
Just pokes and cudgel charges..
Her come back after eight years,
And the soil of Pakistan,
This slaked its craving,
As my Bibi’s feet stroked it,
Such was her greatness,
I see a crowd,
Calling out at Benazir_ their only hope,
Uttering her slogans,
Benazir_ The hope of a dawn, after long night,
The arrival of good days,
After prolonged saga of sufferings,
But the doom twirled,
And point on no account tolerated,
Not time, but dictators,
Such autocrats,
Who took her away,
While waving her countrymen,
So viciously,
Still, Benazir died a Benazir death,
A bereavement, that not every body else gets…

Jeay Bhutto!
Regards,
Saria Bhutto Benazir.

Benazir Bhutto _ The insignia of Democracy _ Saria Benazir

Headship is not too undemanding, as is thought by many of the so- called leaders in Pakistan & of course, what is leadership meant to them, other than gaining votes and that too, not by the people, but by cash and then making sleaze the leading of their policies as if they are to gather as much plunder from a subjugated land as probable and send as many rivals to jail as doable or slay the opposition leaders…either under their jingles of Jihad in the way of Allah or their endeavor to diminish the number of culprits by making fake corruption charges …..and this is all they do, either lose half of the population or millions of miles of land, vending the nation too does them no matter..How can someone think_ even imagine to dream of a prosperous state when democracy is not justified _ where the voice of the people is buried under tones of sludge,, ..where hundreds commit suicides because of paucity, where majority of the population is illiterate, unwaged and more than half of it, living below the poverty line…Circumstances like this & the person, who knowing the conditions wants to change the scenario _ Aah! Genuine plucky is it! Homage to his gallantry…

Without any misgiving, the birthright “Bhutto-ism” is a saga of struggle against such dictators, who have been acting as vultures in the land. The Chairperson of Pakistan Peoples Party _ Shaheed Mohtarma Benazir Bhutto _ a marvel, who fought her entire life for the sake of an egalitarian Pakistan…. Continuing with the bequeath of her father, who had been hanged, over the charge of committing the most heinous crimes in the eyes of these low caste rulers and they were providing “Bread, Clothing & Shelter” to the people of Pakistan, building up a new Pakistan, which had completely wrecked in the War of 1971 and to guarantee the security of Pakistan by making it a nuclear power & after that Great Unfair, his daughter _ Benazir stood against the forces of injustice dedicated to make true, the dreams, his father had seen for a progressive Pakistan _ A Pakistan, free from hunger, poverty, illiteracy, corruption, disease, unemployment & dictatorship _ where politicians are to serve the people & army , there on boarders to guard the state, where women are given respect & dignity & given opportunities to work shoulder to shoulder with men for the improvement of their state ; where their life is not engaged by the fears of Hudood Laws & not constrained to the wall of the house. Benazir entered into politics with such a shinning hallucination _ A visualization, intended to lighten every house with the glow of wealth, education, and health , where the people of Pakistan could feel no barrier in making their voice be heard by the leaders _ A bravura reflection….!!

Thoughts like Benazir infatuated were too, not an unproblematic charge to be realized but Benazir Bhutto _ a significant courage did never quit, though, the situations were too cruel to face, Benazir Bhutto possessed faith in peoples’ power & it was the power of the locals _ Of the commons, which brought a splendid day, when a Pakistani woman , who was just 35 years of age became the earliest ever woman to become the Head of a Muslim State & that woman, who was a spring of back-up , not only to Pakistani, but all the Muslim and working women was Benazir Bhutto Shaheed; who demonstrated that if willpower is factual & strong, nothing is not viable in the world & triumph is foreseeable, where heroism like Benazir Bhutto subsists.

Benazir Bhutto’s era was the golden era in the narration of Pakistan, where progress was made in every phase of verve & it was apparent that Pakistan could become a developed nation in the near prospect, but the doom altered and to the same observable fact in Pakistan, democracy can never stay alive longer and Benazir Bhutto Shaheed’s Government was abolished. What happened then... Could that so-called Male-dominated & Islamic Government do anything, even a distinct great endeavor, those who pledged of conquering the worlds…I look back and surely, all the junk falls on the faces of those poor rulers, who could not mange the state and once again, it was the brilliance of Benazir to take over as the Prime Minister of the state for the second time. It was fabulous….but to all the vocabulary, All clarifications, the verity cannot be disregarded that Pakistan was never ruled by the commons from the commencement and as is the base, so is the building…The Daughter of Destiny was compelled to live eight years of her life in exile _ in agony and in excruciating condition, where she’d to prove the innocence of her imprisoned husband, attend to her ailing mother ,look after the children and manage the party affairs, concerning every aspect of her party members….

History cannot site a spectacular paradigm of such a gigantic sea of support for democracy _ than October 18, 2007… The city of Karachi, which botched to have room for the Bhutto’s daughter’s supporters _ This was witnessed by every being on Earth.. Music & drums, beating to welcome Benazir _ for her return was the arrival of hope _ a hope, after prolonged sufferings & it touched every heart, seeing Benazir, under the Quran raising her hands in veneration and in prayer as her feet touched the soil of Pakistan. Billions gathered to catch a glare of her in such heat, without a single drop of water whereas the King’s party could gather hardly 100 people. , even at lunch time. Thereby followed a tremendous support of people for the Martyred Daughter of Destiny _ the daughter of a martyred father, the sister of martyred brothers_ The sphere of Pakistan, which was filled with the flags of Pakistan Peoples Party…The emblem of democracy. Though terrorizations were outnumbered and an assassination stab was made on Benazir Bhutto the same day, she returned to Pakistan in which hundreds of Bibi’s supporters laid their lives or became crippled came to be known as Jan Nisar Benazir Bhutto., but Bibi never gave up her proposal – her image of a Democracy in Pakistan.

Though, too much is left to reveal, but when one memorizes the sinister December 27, 2007, every deliberation is lost _ the mentality, going vacant, for that was the murkiest day in the account of the world, when it lost a legend_ The Benazir for all times…Truly Benazir…Benazir Bhutto’s vision would remain a bright example for every movement, that comes into subsistence for the deprived populace. Certainly, her name would for eternity be written in golden books. Her services for democracy would forever remain the dazzling part of our past and this day too, Benazir Bhutto rules the hearts & minds of the people. Her life is a role model for all the coming generations & whenever one verbalizes about democracy in Pakistan, the Pakistan Peoples Party is the best selection of the people of Pakistan. The words of Shaheed Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto that you can by no means execute an apparition & my daughter Benazir would become Benazir in the history of the Sub Continent really chime true…!
Jeay Bhutto…!!!
“The forces of justices and democracy always triumph”.
Regards,
Saria Bhutto Benazir.

YOU CAN’T MURDER A LEGACY….. _ Saria Benazir

The Bhutto family has occupied a prominent place in the world politics and certainly, when one speaks about democracy in Pakistan, the Pakistan Peoples party is the only party, which from the beginning of its foundation, laid by Quaid e Awam Shaheed Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto fought against dictatorship and moved with its objective of “Islam is our religion. Democracy is our policy. Socialism is our economy. All power to the people & Martyrdom is our destination”. Resisting against the Martial Law of Ayub Khan and bringing an era of prosperity in Pakistan, regaining thousands of miles, that had been taken by India during the War of 1971 and later, the Bhutto Government, aimed at providing BREAD, CLOTHING & SHELTER to the people of Pakistan, providing education and health facilities to every body & removing unemployment & diseases.Yes, it was Bhutto, who vowed to make Pakistan a nuclear power even if they’d to eat grass.
Later, his daughter Mohtarma Benazir Bhutto, continuing with the legacy of her father strived with might and main to make Pakistan a land of her father’s dreams, the Pakistan, for which Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto _ her father had given his life. Benazir, who was too young a woman in politics felt the sorrows of her nation and struggled to bring about democracy & the rule of justice _ Providing equality to all, strengthening a Pakistan, which worked on laws, not the principle of MIGHT IS MAIN. Benazir Bhutto _ the Daughter of Destiny, who aimed to empower women & improve the literacy rate_ who worked tirelessly to remove poverty, unemployment & disease from Pakistan and of course, remove the black mark of terrorism from the name of Pakistan.

The Bhutto family has its roots amongst the people. Any discussion about Pakistan is incomplete without the name “BHUTTO”, which occupies a significant place in history, yes, moreover, Bhutto’s legacy has become a huge tale_ a blood filled legacy, which holds an important place in poetry, in books and in songs and well, it’s also a fact that it was the BHUTTO family, which gave an identity to Pakistan in the West and the immense efforts of Bhuttos for the sake of bringing the world together is also not deniable.

A film on the life of Benazir Bhutto “Bhutto: The Film” was one of sixteen documentaries selected for judging at the 2010 Sundance Film Festival in Park City, Utah. The film directed by Duane Baughman includes a number of new interviews and comments from Benazir herself. And references to India appear to be fleeting, but the film suggests she genuinely wanted peace with India. It opens with the infamous David Frost interview that Benazir gave shortly after her return to Pakistan in 2007, segues into the assassination attempt on her life in Karachi and then delves into Pakistan’s conception.

The documentary then showcases Benazir’s life through interviews with her friends and family, a part that shows some new images of Benazir highlighting her evolution from a woman who had been exposed to ideals from the wave of opposition to the Vietnam War to a woman who surprised all her friends by agreeing to an arranged marriage.
The visually dazzling opening flashback sequence ends with a bomb blast announcing the assassination of Benazir Bhutto in December 2007. The number of people interviewed for Bhutto is extensive, even if their soundbytes barely feature any criticism of her. Interviewees include Victoria Schofield, Christina Lamb, Reza Aslan, Tariq Ali, Steve Coll, Arianna Huffington, Shuja Nawaz, current and former ambassadors Husain Haqqani, Akbar Ahmed and Wajid Shamsul Hasan, Peter Galbraith, Mark Siegel, former US Secretary of State Condolezza Rice and former President Pervez Musharraf. The Bhutto family is also interviewed, including President Asif Ali Zardari, Bakhtawar, Asifa and Bilawal Bhutto-Zardari, Sanam and Fatima Bhutto and Benazir’s uncle Ahmad Ispahani.
That image slowly fades over Pakistan's green flag with its crescent moon and five-point star. A history lesson begins to take hold, but never overwhelms. If the goal of a good documentary is to tell the story and motivate thought, questions and discussion, then the makers of Bhutto should rest easy. In this case, history and its retelling has a soul, and the soul of Benazir Bhutto inhabits this film. Feminist, or not, Bhutto’s life was filled with contradictions and that is what makes this presentation so compelling. It is a triumph of skilled editing that a spider’s web of historical facts are interwoven with archival footage, news reports, interviews with contemporaries, both friend and foe — the whole package morphing quickly into live action and cutaway shots that are cinematographically beautiful and breathtaking in composition. Bhutto is a feast for the heart, mind and soul, delivering an education and history lesson in its 115 minute run time.

It appears that if there is a villain in the film, it is Musharraf, who is blamed for her death. At an earlier screening, the director was loudly challenged by Musharraf's son and accused of portraying the general unfairly.


However, Baughman defends himself saying, "I don't believe that I portrayed the general unfairly, I believe history always portrays dictators in a poor light, and the rest is up to the audience to decide whether or not that's true."
This documentary is vexing, dramatic and fascinating; certainly possessing a life beyond the glitter and caché of Sundance.

Regards,
Saria Benazir.