salam alaikum
This is an account written by Dr. Arshad, a prominient physician and Muslim activist from Milwaukee. I have known him for years while I was living in Milwaukee, USA. He has recently visited Pakistan and here is what he has to share.
Fee Amanillah
Maqsud
Pakistan Earthquake-A Personal Account
the earthquake, from October 24-28, 2005
As we descended from towering pine covered mountains, which had
been defaced by giant landslides, we saw utter devastation in the
valley. Rocks were strewn all around the roads and embankments
of recently constructed road were plucked away by the falling
rocks. There were wide cracks in the road and the surrounding
ground.
Severe destruction was all over, a five story hotel disappeared
into the ground with the roof a few feet below the level of the
road. There was a lonely building still standing with a top of
a minaret from the nearby mosque lying in its parking lot. The
dense neighborhood on a hill had completely disappeared, with a
heap of rubble spread all over the hill and its residents buried
waiting for a proper burial.
The pain and anguish I saw in the eyes and the faces of the
victims in Balakot and in the hospitals in Abbotabad and
Islamabad was unforgettable. One father, Mr. Munsif, elected
chairman of the local council, who had lost his son in the
collapsed school building along with hundreds of students and
teachers, described the chaos after the earthquake. His
description was so vivid as he was talking to us, it was as if
he was seeing everything unfold in front of his eyes again. It
was as if "Qiyamah "was unfolding, as mountains were splitting,
rocks fell with thunderous noises and buildings were collapsing.
People were screaming and running all over trying to look for
their loved ones, trying to pull them from the rubble and trying
to help those who were severely hurt or bleeding. He described
the helplessness, agitation and severe frustration parents
experienced as they could not get to their children who were
under the collapsed buildings, despite trying for three days.
They could see their children writhing in pain, screaming for
help but without picks and shovels they could not get to them.
And slowly the cries for help went silent. He told us that as
evening sets in, an eerie quiet descends on the town and the
loneliness becomes very painful, as he remembers his son, friends
and other family members. Most of the surviving townspeople sleep
under the open sky shivering in the cold, staring in the darkness,
trying to make sense of the dreadful darkness which befell them.
I had the pleasure of talking to a cute little nine year old girl,
Lariba, who told me how she survived thirteen hours under the
rubble. She was one of seven girls out of a class of fifteen who
survived. She told us how her teacher kept on asking for water
before she passed away. While under the collapsed building she
kept on reciting the Shahada which kept her going. She had lost
her brother and during the conversation she was clinging tightly
to her father, who had a tired, painful look in his eyes and a
facial _expression of a man who was deeply hurt.
I also met a handsome young 13 year old boy who was rescued
after seven hours. He was acting bravely while fetching supplies
for his family who were located a few miles from Balakot. He was
in a hamlet sleeping under a plastic sheet. His face was flushed
from the sun constantly beating on him, and fortunately the wounds
on his legs were healing well. I wish that I had more time to talk
to him. I fear that the long winter may become challenging for his
family and everyone else.
One of my colleagues in Milwaukee had insisted that I give his
donation directly to some of the victims. This was one of the
most difficult things for me to do, but hospital volunteers
helped and after a while I was moving among patients in a robotic
manner as if emotions of the tragedy had paralyzed me. At times
I felt uncomfortable, especially when one young girl kept refusing
to take the money although she was severely injured, as if asking
me, will this money bring me my family back? These are proud
people. She behaved in just the same way as my younger sister
would behave when someone would give her money as a gift. I had
been involved in a small way with both the crises that took place
in Bosnia and Kosovo, but this is the only one in which I cried.
The feeling of loss was as profound as when I received the news
that my father had passed away.
My friend Mahmoud and his sister, the most gentle and kindest
souls that I have ever known are managing a support surgical
unit in Islamabad stadium for the seriously injured patients
from Pakistan Institute of Medical Sciences who are recuperating.
Mahmoud works frequently from 8 am until midnight and is off from
his business, as he feels this work is a blessing and a privilege.
Enthusiastic young student volunteers are taking care of
children with love and affection which has brought back some
smiles and giggles to the children who play with toys and come
to a play area artfully decorated by the Bangladeshi Ambassador's
wife. Japanese mothers who have been reading stories to injured
children find this to be therapeutic with remarkable results, but
unfortunately none of this is available to hundreds in Abbotabad
and Muzzafarbad. When my sister-in-law heard what was taking
place, she was determined to replicate it with the assistance of
the woman's club of military officers' spouses in Abbotabad.
The countless volunteers from all over Pakistan are participating
in an amazing rebirth of the nation, as the nation seems to have
finally found its soul. Every volunteer has witnessed numerous
examples of selfless donations and heroism in this time of trial
for the nation. The loss, grief and suffering is being shared by
all.
The stories that I heard on my trip and the experiences I had
were ones that I had never seen or felt in my life. May Allah
have mercy on all of us.
Maqbool Arshad,MD
Yahoo! FareChase - Search multiple travel sites in one click.
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(Holy Quran-16:125)
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