دا وطن افغانستان دى

دا عزت د هر افغان دى

كور د سولې، كور د تورې

هر بچى يې قهرمان دى

Dā watan Afghānistān dai,

dā izat də har Afghān dai

Kor də sole, kor də ture,

har bačai ye qahramān da

This land is Afghanistan,

it is the pride of every Afghan,

abode of peace, abode of the sword,

each of its sons is brave

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I dream, and seek for it some answer from the world.
I lie and rest my head on the beloved’s lap;
I see myself rising like a falcon to the air;
Alighting on the roof of Mehmoud I become eyes of Ayaz.
I rise from the quiet heart like a tender love song,
Bartering for houris the age of courtesans.

I dream I am sitting on the cool bank of Jindai –

My beloved amongst maidens stands out as a candle;
Her red lips smile and tell me to weep on,
‘Drink your lifeblood, for it is a joyous wine.’
I dream, and seek for it some answer from the world

I dream of an evening at a garden full of flowers –
Red eyes of the cupbearer with wine in ruddy hands;
Fingers on a sitar in elation like Khayyam’s,
Gently turning over it the sweet fable of love.
I dream, and seek for it some answer from the world

I dream that the white moon is rising with a smile;
My sweetheart is shy and slowly reaches me –
Wine comes to the lips, demise to the mouth,
And measure for measure she gives me red élan.
I dream, and seek for it some answer from the world.

I dream that I set out shrouded in a zephyr;
Go to my darling’s side as a vision of love;
Hang before her eyes like a desert dream,
And lose in one jangle the riches of my life.
I dream, and seek for it some answer from the world

I dream that I set off like a butterfly;
Fly round a narcissus and skim past a jasmine;
Circle the necklace round the beloved’s delicate neck
And hail her, invisible, with silent greetings.
I dream, and seek for it some answer from the world

I dream that I rise like the cry of Mansoor –
A handful of dust, I become an ocean of light.
But then I hear the Azan and wake up with a flurry.
Sleep takes away the dreams and the world comes to life
Saying, ‘lay down Ghani Khan, do your time in jail.’

Ghani Khan in Hyderabad Jail – 1948

'As far as the eye reached, flowers were in bloom. In spring near Parashawar the fields of flowers are very beautiful indeed' -Babar 

Peshawar, the capital of Khyber Pukhtunkhwa and the city of proud Pashtuns has always been an attraction for tourists. It has the 2nd highest population of Pashtuns and has become the centre of their culture and arts in Pakistan. It is a place where ancient traditions rub against those of today, where the bazaar in the old city has changed little in the past hundred years except to have a modern university, some first-class hotels, several international banks and one of the best museums in Pakistan.

It’s connected with Islamabad via Motorway M-1 and via national highway N-5. Peshawar Airport is a 25 minutes drive from the city and is served by all the national carriers including the PIA. Moreover some of the Middle East airlines like Etihad, emirates airlines and Qatar airlines also serve this airport. You can reach the city via Pakistan Railways that departs from some of the major cities like Quetta, Karachi and Lahore.

Khair, Once you are there, there are a lot of must visit places ranging from historical establishments to some really good restaurants. Below are some of the places one must visit in Peshawar..!

Peshawar Museum

Housed in a glorious Victorian Mughal-Gothic hall across the tracks from the Old City, the Peshawar Museum has the largest collection of Gandaharan art in the world, ranging from statues and friezes depicting the Buddha’s life to winged cupids and Herculean heroes. It’s a dizzying stylebook of Graeco-Bacrian art, if often let down by poor labeling (also check out the Graeco-Bactrian coinage hidden upstairs).

There’s a small Islamic collecton with some delightful illustrated books, and an ethnographic section with wooden effigies taken from a Kalasha cemetery, including and ancestor figure riding a two-headed horse. 

Fort Bala Hisar

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The Origin of the largest segmentary lineage group in the world is still a mystery to many. There are many conflicting theories, some contemporary, some ancient, about the origins of the Pashtun people, both among historians and the Pashtun themselves. But the one suggesting Pashtuns as descendants of the ten lost tribes of Jews has the most compelling case.

The Theory of Pashtun descent from Israelites is traced to Maghzan-e-Afghani who compiled a history for Khan-e-Jehan Lodhi in the reign of Mughal Emperor Jehangir in the 16th century AD. This reference is in line with the commonly held view by Pashtuns that when the twelve tribes of Israel were dispersed (Israel and Judah, Lost Ten Tribes), the tribe of Joseph among other Hebrew tribes settled in the region. However, Some sources state that the Maghzan-e-Afghani, from an oral tradition, may be a myth which grew out of a political and cultural struggle between Pashtuns and the Mughals.

There are an estimated 40 million Pashtuns around the world including more than 14 million in Afghanistan and 28 million in Pakistan, mainly in the North West Frontier Province and Tribal areas but also with a strong presence in Karachi. Many have grown up with stories of their people being "Children of Israel". According to legend, they are descended from the Ephraim tribe which was driven out of Israel by the Assyrian invasion in around 700BC. Evidence of ancient Jewish settlement has been found in Herat, close to Afghanistan's border with Iran, where a graveyard contains tombs inscribed in Hebrew. The Afghan capital Kabul also has a centuries-old synagogue which has long been abandoned

Their tribal groupings have similar names, including Yusufzai, which means sons of Joseph; and Afridi, thought by some to come from Ephraim. Some customs and practices are said to be similar to Jewish traditions: lighting candles on the sabbath, refraining from eating certain foods, using a canopy during a wedding ceremony and some similarities in garments

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Here is a very informative documentary on Kabul by BBC. Must watch it and don't forget to comment!

Here is an excellent poem by Ghani Khan about political leaders... You can find the translation below.

                                                                           Translation

Take a crow’s beak,

A snake’s tongue,

A chicken’s brain,

And the heart of a rambler,

A dog’s throat

That barks well,

A mule’s stubbornness,

And deck it pride,

Mud from the village,

And the city’s dunghill;

And then befriend

A blind potter,

Who will prepare

A new leader for you.

"Shinwari Lawangina" is very famous peom writen by Zaitoon Bano and Watan Dost sung by Zarsanga and Daud Hanif. Shinwari is a pashtun tribe while "Lawangeen" is to call someone a sweet heart but in a very decent and obscure way. Lawangeen literally means beeds of necklace made of clove that usually pashtun girls wear as an ornament.

The song is filmed by Samar, Tariq Peerzada and Luke Powell and the video is pure magic.Its hard to control emotions as the viewer floats along the divine landscapes, heart rending lyrics, riveting music and operatic vocals by Zarsang and Daud Hanif. The beautifully photographed landscapes are deftly done by Samar Minallah and Tariq Peerzada, while Luke Powell, a professional photographer, based in Canada is responsible for the stunning still portraits and shots that makes this video a kaleidoscopic voyage. One can see Afghanistan in the background during the dance footage.

The Song focuses on contemporary issues: migration of afghan refugees, patriarchy, gender and social development.

Here is the translation and explanation of the verses....

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Wulwar is an ancient Pashtoon custom of paying an amount, in cash or kind, paid or agreed to be paid, to the parent or guardian of a woman by any person in consideration of marriage of such woman with that man. It is indeed price of the bride paid by the groom or his family to the parents of woman upon the marriage of their daughter to the groom. The custom of wulwar is opposite to dowry, which is paid to the groom by the bride’s family to help establish a new household.   

The wulwar has some specific Pashtoon peculiarities, but as a custom of bride price it has existed in the ancient civilizations of Egyptians, Mesopotamians, Hebrews, Aztecs and Incas (“Siwan”). According to Islamic law a marriage cannot be declared valid without contracting bride price, known as Mahr.  The custom of paying bride price to the woman’s father has been mentioned as an established custom in the Code of Hammurabi, the Hebrew Bible and Talmud (central text of Judaism pertaining to law, ethics, customs and history) (“Full”).  In ancient China and India bride price was negotiated for validity of marriage and such transfers continue to be practiced in rural areas in these countries. As of now bride prices are most prevalent in Africa, particularly in sub-Saharan countries, where such payments are made in 90 percent marriages (“Siwan”).

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Jirga system in Pashtuns represents a formal traditional institution of Justice, which is practiced in the Pashtuns society from the time immemorial. According to the Pashto Descriptive Dictionary  Jirga is an original Pashto word, which in its common usage refers to the gathering of a few, or a large number of people. (Attaye 56) It also means consultation according to this source. The roots of Jirga systems have been traced back to the Athenian democracy while some scholars argue that the Pashtuns are practicing Jirga even before the Athenian times.

The proceedings of Jirga are carried out in a Mosque, Hujra “Guest House” or under the shade of a huge tree. There is no governing officer neither hierarchal position in a Jirga. the Jirga system is conducted in two ways. In case of family or individual disputes the concerned parties themselves appeal to Jirga while the Jirga assembles on its own and take Suo Moto action in case of any serious threat to the tribe or under grave social problems. In the latter case the Jirga is organized by volunteers called “Khadims” who perform the role of messengers announcing the date, timings and venue in all the villages of the tribe and also provide necessary arrangements for conducting Jirga. Jirga members usually gather in form of a huge circle resembling round table conference giving the message that no one is superior in the eyes of Pashtunwali   “ legal code of Pashtuns”

There is no systemized mechanism or basic criteria for the selection of Jirga Judiciary Council. Mostly noble elders of the tribe called “Speen Girey” (White beard men) are chosen for this purpose who have known repute for their honesty, wisdom and a firm understanding and knowledge of Pashtunwali and Sharia.  However in case of grand Jirga the leaders of different clans are the members of Jirga Judiciary Council. The number of council members is not fixed and varies with the importance, sensitivity and type of dispute but mostly comprises from two to ten members. Any member of the Jirga council who do not practice Pashtunwali in his daily life is usually excluded from the Jirga Council.

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Whether we like it or not the tobacco known as “naswar” is associated with Pashtuns. Naswar is primarily used in Central Asia, Iran, Afghanistan, Pakistan, Tajikistan, Sweden and India. In Pakistan though it is is predominantly used by members of the Pashtun ethnic group. Some of the many varieties of naswar are produced in different parts of the Khyber-Pakhtunkwa Province of Pakistan and the city of Bannu is especially famous for producing the best naswar.

Naswar is held in the mouth for 10 to 15 minutes. If it is chewed it produces a bad taste in the mouth. Usually, the consumption varies but mostly people take it on an hourly basis as it is highly addictive. Nowadays most of the educated Pashtuns are against the use of this product because of it’s detrimental health effects.

An assortment of naswar.

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Morey (Mother) is one of the most beautiful poem written by Ghani Khan,one of the greatest Pashto poet and philosopher of 20th century. Ghani Khan's mother died of illness when he was only six years old. This poem shows how much "Morey" meant for him. Sardar Ali Takkar, the famous pashto singer has sung this song, and listening it in his beautiful voice brings tears to your eyes.....

TRANSLATION

Morey (Mother)

Though you are buried and hidden in dust

I still remember your black beautiful eyes

Mother, I havn't forgotten your arms

Around me in my pain

The stories you used to tell me, I recall them every evening

Of Ganjay, Haramooni and Bahram

Your beatings were sweeter than the love of others

Your harsh words were better than the prayers of others

When I'd do something bad

And Baba (father) would lose his temper

You'd be my only friend

And my tears would make you cry as well

Mother, I remember that small swing

Which you used to swing for me

With each swing, your songs and your smiles

Would make my heart as light as the air

Though you are buried and hidden in dust

Though you are buried and hidden in dust

Or when you'd be angry with me

And would make me cry a lot

Mother, I remember all the Eids

When you'd wear jewellery on your beautiful face

You'd fight with me and would make me clean and beautiful

And I'd make myself dirty in the mud

You'd beat me for that and would then kiss me with love

With smiles you'd tolerate my harsh words

I do still remember the smile on your lips

I still remember my running to the festivals

And afterwards when I'd come home tired in the evening

In your lap, and with your 'Allahu' (lullaby) I'd sleep

Though you are buried and hidden in dust

Mother, I still remember one dark night

When my body was hot like fire

My head was full with the noises of airplanes

And my ears went deaf to sound

O my everything, my mother, you'd say 'Qurbaan'

You had cure for each of my 'ah' (cry)

Mother, I also remember another day

When our home was full of cries

Your otherwise warm hands had turned cold

Your otherwise pink beautiful cheeks had turned colorless white

With a smile on your face, you were deep asleep and were not waking up

I was crying but you were not waking up

I said "Mother, mother", but you didn't reply "Qurbaan" to me

But you were lying there like a flower in the autumn

I was crying and you were sleeping with a smile on your face

I was crying and you were not asking me why?

Though you are buried and hidden in dust

I still remember your beautiful black eyes

(Ghani Khan)