Pakistani Educational Leadership Project at Plymouth State University

Time passes but memories stay as yesterday, said some one but when and why I don’t know. On the contrary every body could guess why somebody uttered such words. In Urdu poetry there is a couplet that reflects the acute feelings of somebody in the hour of recollection of memories and the poet goes to the extent to lose his wits because the acuteness of past memories never let him live peacefully. Samuel Reid Hall at Plymouth State University is also one of the memories that disturbs my sleep and sometimes take me  to the world where I spent only 21 days but the honesty of purpose of my colleagues and American friends created a world of its own there. Especially the wooden bench, which was my permanent abode in leisure and maple tree, intimated me to an extent that they are with me even in day time and I can feel their presence in my mind. The bench listened to me like a good friend when I talked to it and recited my poetry but the tree was rather more benevolent as it listened to me by providing sense of serenity and freshness. Looking at the tree with cigarette in my fingers I fell in love with it and behaved to the tree like a frantic lover and humble companion. In response I could feel the touch of breeze lulling my cheeks like a nurse. Even at that time when I knew I’ll leave this place very shortly and shall be replaced by some new faces but heavy feelings could not get me away from loving it. It was simple to understand that I replaced some one who might have chosen the same bench to sit and love that maple tree. I don’t know who they could be but some names were engraved on the bench; Sammolly or may be of the same type.  I could not see the person whose name was there but could well imagine his/her feelings about the bench and tree. The lulling of the soft breeze could have been the feelings of the tree for Sam or Molly or Sammolly who might have been in the habit of sitting there like me and fell in love with the tree but at moment both the bench and tree make me say: I miss you, do you?

The travel section in the Saturday, Sept. 1 edition of the Wall Street Journal offers a feature story on Lahore:

Pakistan’s Unlikely Hot Spot
Amid the nation’s political turmoil, a restaurateur brings glamour to Lahore

By PETER WONACOTT
September 1, 2007; Page P7

LAHORE, Pakistan As the son of a courtesan, Iqbal Hussain learned early that beauty has a price. In his career as an artist — painting portraits of prostitutes mostly — Mr. Hussain sold images of sullied beauty for great sums. The sun falls behind the domes of the Badshahi mosque.

Now, the 57-year-old Mr. Hussain is owner of Coco’s Den, a symbol of a nascent effort to capitalize on this city’s well-worn charms. His restaurant is set beside two majestic monuments in the crumbling, ancient heart of Lahore. In the evenings, the rooftop is crammed with wealthy locals and tourists who peer over the red sandstone walls of the 17th century Badshahi Mosque, one of the world’s largest.

You can check out the rest of the story at: online.wsj.com/article/SB118859664577115054.html