About Pashtoons
If you look into his eyes, they are clear, manly and bold. They do not know fear, and wont live long enough to know death. He never takes cover in a fight and always laughs and sings when he is frightened. He will soon die fighting, a man as brave and strong and handsome as he, for he knows only how to love and laugh and fight and nothing else, he is taught nothing else.

1,The Pakhtoon has a tender heart but tries to hide it under a rough and gruff exterior. He is too good a fighter to leave his weakest part uncovered. "Don't be so sweet" He says, "that people may swallow you up nor so bitter that people may spit you out." So he covers his sweetness with bitterness, self-preservation pure and simple. His violent nature, strong body and tender heart make a very unstable combination for living but an ideal one for poetry and co lor. He keeps a rough face because he does not want you to see his soft eyes. He would rather you thought he was a rogue then let you see him weep his eyes out for his wife


A Pakhtoon cannot think about love without marriage, if he does, he pays for it with his life and therefore all his love poetry is about those who dared it. Society all the world over will hound you for bre aking a convention and worship you for daring to do so. Man has a way of worshipping the breaker of idols while posing as a great devotee of the temple. The Pakhtoon may shoot the lover of his daughter but he will sing to the glory of love. A strange att i tude, you will admit. No stranger than yours when you would hang a thief and admire a merchant.

When he has to choose between ransom and alms, he chooses ransom because he is a man and not a worm. He looks at the torn clothes of his beautiful young wife and the hungry eyes of his child, he picks up hi s rifle and grits his teeth and goes into the jaws of death to procure a yard of cloth for the one and a mouthful of food for the other. When a social system fails to provide for his dear ones, he tramples it down under his grass sandals. When a politica l arrangement decides to starve him and overfeed another he shoots holes into it.

Thought is an expression of prejudice. Inspiration is above prejudice and therefore above thought. Prejudice and bias is mother's milk to man. The sooner you admit it the better. When I see a judge of the H igh Court, with his serious face and his noble wig, dispensing "unbiased justice," I always want to laugh. No. I wont do that. I am a Pakhtoon and must be honest, so I will frankly admit that I am prejudiced in favor of my people. Indeed I would hate mys e lf if I were not.

Some Things from me

THINK OVER IT