Anatomy of October 19 Blasts by ADNAN GILL

The way Pakistani government covers up every single bomb attack by declaring that it was an action of the suicide bomber has become a regular theme. Mostly people buy the government’s version with little or no questions asked. Fortunately for us, and unfortunately for the establishment, the October 19 twin-bombing attacks (allegedly) on Pakistan People’s Party (PPP) leader Benazir Bhutto were captured by numerous private TV cameras and by the print-media photographers. Most of these videos and still-photographs which are available on the Internet for the public to view potentially suggest a cover-up going up to the highest levels.

If one were to study these videos (widely available on YouTube), and the still-photographs (available among others on AP, AFP, Reuters, and the Daily Dawn’s websites) one can argue that the nation has been once again misguided by the establishment, because pictures tell a story totally contradictory to what the latter wants us to believe. The contradictions are so shockingly obvious that it suggests that either the establishment likes to mock our intelligence, or its agents tasked to disseminate its story of suicide-bombers are highly incompetent; because even a 10th grade student with a basic knowledge of laws-of-physics can put together the sequence of events that took place on October 19. The motives behind the establishment’s possible cover up are a subject of another debate, so for now, first we will lay down some facts, circumstantial evidence, and ground rules to evaluate the evidence.

Rule # 1, laws of physics do not bend, twist, or change to anyone’s liking or for that matter disliking.
Rule # 2, for the purpose of this column we will assume that the face of Ms. Bhutto’s armored truck was pointing to 12 o’clock, while its tail was pointing at 6 o’clock.
Rule # 3, fashioning an explosive device is more of a science than art.

Circumstantial evidence # 1, per PPP’s statement Ms. Bhutto retreated to her heavily-armored cabin just minutes before the bombs exploded.
Circumstantial evidence # 2, every PPP leader standing on the top of the armored truck escaped the blasts virtually unscathed.
Circumstantial evidence # 3, numerous TV cameras and still photographs captured the images of the bombings and their aftermath live.
Circumstantial evidence # 4, government’s experts claimed the second (and the deadlier) bomb used approx. 14-15 kg of RDX explosives and hundreds of nails and ball bearings.

Fact # 1, RDX explosives are one of the most powerful and stable explosive. The velocity of RDX detonation at a density of 1.76 grams/cm³ is 8,750 meters per second.
Fact # 2, the shock-wave from the blast travels like a bubble and in a circular manner.
Fact # 3, the dispersal-pattern/direction of the shrapnel resulting from the blast can be managed and fashioned according to the need.

AAJ-TV was broadcasting live when the two blasts took place. Judging from the video images AAJ-TV cameras caught, one can safely assume that the first blast was of a restively low-intensity, and second blast was of much higher-intensity. It should also be kept in mind that the initial blast did not trigger the (what demolition experts call) sympathetic blast or the second explosion. That is most probably due to the stable nature of RDX explosives.

The other evidence one can safely gather from this video are:
1. Virtually everyone and everything stayed upright and intact on the right and backsides of the armored truck. This suggests the second explosive was a shaped-charge from which the shrapnel spread in an arc-pattern, and away from the truck. In other words, either by sheer luck or deliberately the trajectory of the blast was directed away from the truck in a cone-shape that spread from seven o’clock to one o’clock (relative to the truck).
2. People can be seen jumping off the armored truck and others climbing down the stairs after the blasts. This suggests that none of the people standing on top of the truck were seriously injured, which suggests that the shrapnel and the force/shockwave of the blast stayed closer to the ground. Typically, a well-directed shockwave generated by 14-15 kg of RDX from such a close proximity can turn the internal organs into gel. Another sign, it was probably a shaped-charge.
3. Before the second blast the left door of the truck could be seen in open position. Some unconfirmed reports claimed that just minutes before the blasts the truck was stopped to switch the drivers. Either way, it can be argued that the driver vacated the truck before the second blast. Which could mean, that the standard operating-procedure of immediately escaping the scene was not followed.
4. A vehicle can be observed to the front-left side (9-10 o’clock) of the truck and exactly in the front of a white Suzuki Alto engulfed in flames. Some reports alleged that the Suzuki Alto carried the bomb, but a spare wheel could be seen on the backside of the burning vehicle. Therefore it can be argued, that the burning vehicle was a Jeep rather than a small car. When this vehicle is observed from the other angles in the still pictures it shows its front was ripped open. Could this be the vehicle that carried the bomb? We will return to this question in a moment.

When asked, how the government can be so sure that it was an act of a suicide-bomber wearing a suicide belt, they immediately give a ready-made answer that since no crater/hole was found, it had to be a suicide bomber. It’s difficult to tell if they give this ready-made answer out of ignorance or in an effort to cover-up the reality? Because a cleverly designed shaped-charge/explosive can easily leave no crater, which means such a signature could also be left out by other kinds of improvised explosives, like by a car-bomb.

If one would meticulously study the widely available still-pictures of the blasts, one could figure out the origination-point of the blast and the direction the shrapnel and debris traveled, which belies government’s version. Since the shockwave from an ordinary explosion travels in a circle, it knocks down objects around it like petals of a flower. If the blast was caused by a suicide-bomber then how did he/she managed to control the direction of the explosion and that too into the opposite direction of its alleged target? Another lucky coincidence or there is something more than meets the eye?

The pictures also show that the majority of victims lost their lower limbs and the clothing on their legs was either singed or torn apart by the blasts, while their torsos and shirts on them were relatively in better condition. Even the small trees and plants around the center of explosion told a story that the brunt of the shockwave traveled closer to the ground and not in a bubble shape. This is another telltale sign of controlled explosion, which was directed away and closer to the ground. Could it be another fortuitous coincidence for the alleged primary-target?

Some people could be seen as far as (roughly) hundred feet from the center of blast lying in the pool of blood. Strangely, the armored truck which was barely a 10 feet away from the center of explosion only sustained minor damage like flattened tires and few shrapnel penetrations in its windshield. A police van on the front-left side of the armored truck can be seen severely damaged. However, no evidence of even minor damage could be seen above the driver’s cab of the armored truck. This could be another sign that the explosion was caused by the shaped explosive whose trajectory was not pointed upwards where the PPP leadership was standing. Yet another fortunate coincidence?

Based on debris tracks, never mind from where one draws a line, they all triangulate to a point roughly where the vehicle on fire could be seen. From a front angle one can see the face of the mysterious burning vehicle spread open. Based on all of these educated and conservative observations, one could argue that either the government investigators are not qualified to conduct such investigations, or the establishment is hiding something and deliberately fooling the nation into thinking it was another merciless, cruel and deliberate action of suicide bombers. Because the circumstantial evidence suggest, that the origin of the second blast, which was in all likelihood a shaped-charge, took place on the front-left side of the armored truck that Ms. Bhutto was traveling in, and most importantly, it was directed away from her heavily-guarded and heavily-plated truck.

At this point it is hard to speculate about the motives and the forces behind the gruesome tragedy, but one can argue with high level of certainty, that the second blast was caused by a shaped-charge that was directed closer to the ground and away from the armored truck that was used by the high and mighty of PPP. It also cannot be disputed that while virtually all of PPP leadership came out of these deadly attacks literally unharmed, but hundreds of loyal foot soldiers/jialas of the same party miserably failed to escape the cold hands of death. It is said that due to this tragedy hundreds of jialas will remain maimed and handicapped for rest of their lives, hardly a matter of conciliation.

It is hard to believe that nature could be so compassionate and heartless at the same time. On one hand it spares the lives and well-being of every single member of PPP leadership, then simultaneously it blew up hundreds of its workers to smithereens. A one in a billion coincidence? You decide!

http://www.thefrontierpost.com/News.aspx?ncat=ar&nid=32

All i needed…

All i needed was the touch of love… a pair of eyes posing some sense of understanding towards me. Someone who could see through me. A moment of truth that might do me some good. I am not supposed to be here . I am not supposed to be just another person. Not a nameless face. I am supposed to be on a higher plain. I can feel it. I can feel things bigger than who I am right now. I can sense them hanging in the air just above me , sense their wait. I can almost feel it, in my blood, in my thoughts, but that’s where it ends. I can’t see it. I don’t know what it is. But I know it’s there.

I need to keep believing. I know, there’s more out there. What’s there, I don’t know. Many people think the exact same way I do. They even know what they are thinking about. Perfection. The moment that defines who we are. Of how we either fight or take flight from our fears. How we rise from our falls. How we pretend to be someone we are not , and then one day, face ourselves and stand tall to our challenges and ourselves.

All i needed was this faith, this intrinsic hope , that i was special. That i was above normal. That i had a role to play, in the forging of time into the words of history. All i needed was, something more than myself…

Tonight is like a million miles away

He sat in front of his PC with a heart detached.. from the real world, in one of it’s own. Might have been better to have faced the demons that lay his angels to the ground. But no matter whatever he finds. It all turns to dust eventually through the intricacies of his mind. His vision like a 24/7 station for dissarrray… like black and white pictures with heavy grain affects. So bold , in just trying to survive, life. To survive the cold harsh truths.

“Accept the truth” …. but it’s so hard to … and so he continues sitting …. alone… the songs play in the background ‘i just don’t know…. ‘ … Where is his calling now ? It’s so hard to find the source of the sound. But He thinks it’s so important to find where it is coming from. Would he have it any other way? … he wish he knew. He wish first of all if there was another way. Then as if a ghost took him by his hand, he got up. His brain had already been fuqing him since morning “THE joke is on you … you sap”… what’s the harm in letting whatever it was guide him. He slid through the darkness… “Be real quite” . The voices were talking to him.

“I am ending all this pain for you”… but why do i have pain he thought to himself. I have everything. I am healthy. I live, better than 2/3 of this country. I may even be loved, even if i don’t see it. Who am i running from then ? This night wasn’t like the rest. He knew that from the start. The cool breeze of the evening wasn’t mocking his memories. The moon wasn’t half sinister. This night can’t be real. It’s relatively calm. Apart from the spirit that was guiding him, or atleast he thought it was a spirit.

He kept walking through the darkness… and with every further step…. he thought.. this can’t be real. What can’t be real? … i don’t know… thoughts were jamming up in his brain now. “Your answers will be given soon”… hardly comforting. His life was based on that promise. It still lingers on. And he knew truths could sometime be decieving.

Crickets , bats … he could hear them about. He was outside. He was in the wild nature… and couldn’t help but feel that something from this natural setting was unreal, and from within this something , or some being was communicating with him. “You like tonight?”

Yea… he thought. For one , i haven’t spiralled in my emotions. I haven’t thought to myself. I haven’t spent another night self destructing. I haven’t bitched. I haven’t gotten drunk on my emotions. So yea.. this night is good so far. “You want this night forever?” … the voice called to him now .. out of his head…. almost as from the world he could see and feel. Could it be. Are my answers calling to me? ….

“Perhaps… if you want them to… if you truly want them, then they are all yours… ofcourse .. you must realize… Tonight is like a million miles away… away from this world you are familiar with… this life that you know… this reality that exists in front of you… it’s far away from all this.”

I accept he called out into the darkness, not entirely sure where he was supposed to be facing, but sure enough to surrender himself to the voice. “And what of her?” ….

And he stood .. in silence…. he didn’t know. What of her? … he didn’t know. Even after all this time… he didn’t know. He couldn’t know. And after all that had passed. There was still uncertainity…..and before he knew it .. the voice dissappeared … taking the night with it. He snapped out of what seemingly was his imagination, back in his room… back in his misery… the night was like any other night. In the concrete jungle. He buried his face in his hands …… it seemed like an eternity would pass before he could feel that night again…..before he could find his answers… and he was so close tonight…. now he is a million miles away….

Rambles

The fan’s turning slowly and slowly. I have been trying to rest for some time now, but my uncomfort gets the best of me. Maybe writing will do me a world of betterment, much more than resting has, or rather trying to rest has.

The annoying parts of my brain, that scream and shriek, and make an abundance of noise to be heard, get under my skin. My body quivers, i know not out of anger, or out of chill. Can’t be chill, it’s still hot in these parts of the world. Oh and these parts of the world. A million people parade to herald the returning mem saab. Glory.

I miss my guitar. I loved playing it. I am not good, or well not that good. But i still loved playing it. It was a form of expression. It was a form of release of tension inside. It was a substantially effective method of subdueing those voices i just mentioned.

I shouldn’t feel anything. Otherwise everything just creeps in. I let go of my more sanital strands and shreds of thought and rationality. And i just blabber out whatever comes through from the mind. Not healthy ofcourse. I need a better outlet than that. I am after all young, so, energy is there within in me. ‘Garmi hay meray aander’. Listening to songs is better too at times. But I am a bottleneck right now. I wouldn’t know what to listen to.

If i could just get away, from everything, including myself. Go on a beach, for some time, away from society, away from it’s requirements and burdens. Away from the force of sanity upon me. It might do me good. I might come back more light hearted. Blue sands in my toes. That would be nice.

Tribute to a Giant: Inzimam-ul-Haq, a glorius 17 year career

 

 

 

 

Inzi, Inzimam-ul-Haq, a giant of a cricketer.No, that is not a pun on his size. It is in fact a statement to the magnificence of his career. A glorious, 17 year career, at the heart of Pakistan’s middle order. One of the stalwarts of the game. A reliable pillar for the team throughout those 17 years. He has the most half-centuries, centuries and the second highest amount of test runs to be scored by a Pakistani, a record which he could not better on by 2 runs. That record still remains with the master, Javed Miandad.

Some argue that it was destiny that he didn’t break the record, and that he earned those runs in much simpler and against much easier competition than did the former. It is hard to argue with that, considering Miandad compiled his runs against the greats of Australia like Lillie and Thompson, and of course the Calypso Kings, like Malcolm Marshal of the West Indies. While Inzi’s toughest challenge would always be McGrath and Warne, with Pollock and Murali close behind, and that’s about it. Inzi’s triple century came against a depleted and weak NZ team at Gaddafi. He amassed 1500 of his 8000 against lowly Bangladesh and Zimbabwe. So, yes… it is hard to argue with that.

However, one cannot take away the greatness of the career of Inzimam. The man played with utmost ease. It is a wonder at the amount of time he had on the pitch, before playing a shot. An eagle eye one could say. Perhaps so much talent that it was not fully utilized to it’s potential by the burly multani.

But Pakistan is and will always be indebted to the services of the great man. But for him, we would not be the world champions in 1992. But for him, we would have yet again be labeled cheats last year at the Oval. But for him, we would not have been on the winning side of a rubber, match or a series on countless occasions. Miandad, himself was happy in handing over the mantle of his team duties to Inzimam, for in him he found a successor. And he wasn’t far off with the suggestion that he would replicate Viv Richards. Of course he didn’t do that, but again that falls to perhaps the quality of opposition and the full utilization of his potential. He still remains one of the giants of the game.

Who cannot remember being exhilarated at the sight of big man coming at the back burner of a once again failed opening pair and top order? The calm look about him, the stagger to the crease, the absolute disregard to the tenacity of the situation, the just about making it to the other crease in a run, and the countless times hitting a 50 perhaps in a ODI to take us closer to victory. Countless.

(Funny fact: Inzi is the only batsman to have been out 7 different ways: the normal catch, stump, bowled, run out, LBW and in addition to this, handling the ball and disrupting the field)

Inzi has always been hailed as a great batsman, by team mates and opposition alike. He has made even the best of bowlers of the modern age wonder what to do next, and left them wondering. He hasn’t come with perfection, maybe the shortfalls of his captaincy showing the most, but he has been a vital asset for Pakistani cricket. I salute Inzimam-ul-Haq, for his invaluable services to the country for the past 17 years.

Thank you Inzi, it has been an honor growing up with you as an icon of my generation.

Future Untold

It is a great day tmr. It has been a great few days now. But what has the future in store for us. Do we really know? … or are we content with whatever is given to us on our ever reliable plates.

I am not sure if what i have today will be with me tmr. And i can never be sure. No matter what i do. I have to live with that fact. Man was not meant to see into the future, so that he could work for it, wholeheartedly. But then … there are some things that man wants so much that he wish he could make concrete for the future. Unmovable, unchangeable, unchallenged. His desire, his dream, his need.

Alas, thats not how the world is meant to be. But what of this sordid mind and heart then. That refuses at times on certain vices to accept that. That it becomes prey to the ever pouncing paranoia. Hmm… everything seems real. Well everything is real. But, everything seems … real. I use the word in a different sense. Those with enuff wise courage shall get me , and those who cannot .. well this isn’t meant for anyone to get anyway so .. whoop tee do.

If only.. this time would pass quickly .. this time would not be eating at my brain cells…

If only …. i could … assure myself … that everything will be alright no matter how it goes. But i can’t . Somethings i just can’t assure myself on. Somethings i am just to tied into .. to want to assure myself of in that way.

So happy day… the sun will keep shining … the clouds will keep visiting from time to time… and this heart… this heart will keep sinking in it’s own miserable turmoil every now and then .

Entry # 1 – Defios

This new category need not be defined… nor questioned… nor discussed … nor ever talked of.

This new category is purely my own wasteland. Let it remain so …

I will use this cateogry .. as and when I please … without thinking of any1 to answer to. Everyone is allowed that much …  This post will simply be to define the rules and so forths of this category. Wrathchild … shut up .. … about the obvious grammer i mean

Realizations

Usually when people are sad, they don’t do anything. They just cry over their condition. But when they get angry, they bring about a change.
Malcolm X

I have spent most of my past 5 years, constantly being challenged by myself. Not in the positive sense that most management gurus promote. But, by my own hand fed paranoia and depression cycles. I have often, during this period, broken down, had fights with my family over ridiculous issues, and generally come off as a grumpy person. At the same time however I have also, had filled inside me ‘realizations’. Truths, which more than anything else will, remain with me for the rest of my life. Atleast I hope so. These realizations have helped closed down certain angles of my depression and paranoia.

Some of the realizations, rather most of them have been about myself. Like I for one can’t go on without music. I just can’t. I am a humanitarian more than a nationalist. I like to think that i would be better off helping mankind than helping, politicians mend their ways. I want to feel I have done something that is the least of being selfish in this realm of life. I have done something in the way of Allah, by helping his creations, by lending a hand. (and not in the simplest of ways). I have realized that I am more open to certain change than I thought I would be before. I realize that what I want the most, I probably have to do a lot more for than I imagined. A whole lot more. So much more that it is almost overwhelming.

I have always dealt with my depressions in the usual, sad ways of the crying man. Smoked my brains out, or cried my eyes dry. Neither is very encouraging or healthy no matter what the short term effect. When I get angry, I take action. And as Malcolm X pointed out , that is when one brings about change. But, here’s the catch, we are just talking about change, no one knows whether it will be positive or negative change. It’s how we handle and direct our anger that decides whether to run for cover or build towards a difference.

I want to achieve my goals, my dreams , my ‘needs’. I have to work for it. I have to take the tough choices. I have to make the tough decisions. I have to sacrifice myself mentally. No one else is going to walk up to me with all of the hard work on a plate. I am not king, I am not immortal. I will be judged, by Allah, I will be judged by my own soul. I will question myself, if not in the real realm then perhaps in the subconscious. I will pin myself for answers to why? And then I won’t be able to face myself. And I will continue to rot in this vicious mental cycle.

Everybody needs a hero, everybody is one, someway or the other. “There is a hero in all of us”. We just need to find him/her.

 

Either you define the moment or the moment defines you.

Tin Cup

 

Of pains and pangs

I haven’t written in some time now. I haven’t really done much on the blogging world in quite some time now, not fictionally nor in sense of riling up towards the THEATRE that was our country’s political tussle sincce march this year. I will write more on that and vent more on that in another post , which will be aptly only for that topic. THis is however, all about the garbage that is caused by the thinking and the riveting of being paranoid.

I am sitting in a class which is highly useless, with a teacher who has more or less made peace with the fact that this is a lab and every1 will be simply surfing ( as much as they can given the crappy quality of the net) rather than paying attention to him. And thus the disdained and bizarre outlook on life altogether. I am at the back end of feeling slightly purturbed about quite a bit. But , this is afterall a online site, accessable to almost every1 … therefore some things are better left unsaid.

I will however try my level best to vent as much as i can to the best of the feeling in all it’s equality.

I could carry on just writing gibberish like this … mostly because it’s a fun thing to do. Especially if you haven’t written in a long time, and mostly you just want to go on blabbering without letting anyone reading this really know what the hell is this guy talking about ? … what was the point of this post? … and why the hell did i just waste my ‘X’ minutes reading this (X because everyone has various reading speeds so therefore i don’t want to differentiate between the fast readers and the slow ones by pointing out any specific one).

If you have come across this , my most regular blog reader, wrathchild … then i know you are probably thinking ‘err’ .. well thats all right. I am also thinking the same thing at this point in time which is why this has been an utterly useless post. With no meaning, no hidden message, no fiction… no nothing.

Well you know what … to keep in line with how this post has been … along the lines of being abrupt… i shall end just the same.