Dear friends

Mrs Bhutto has been killed through an un known person .Whether he was
a member of Al-Qaida or agencies It is question before the pakistani
people forever.
It is grief of all Pakistanis who believe in democracy and human
rights .Now the future of Pakistan is in the hands of terrorists .
I want to know Who will struggle for civil rights of Pakistani people
now .All the people who believe in liberalism and civil rights are
alone at this stage
.I think future of Pakistan is uncertain .CHROON SOBOON KI ZANGEER
has been broken

I think we all Seraikis are with Sindhi people in this sudden grief.
because it is our own grief.
I don't know who has died 'civil rights for people 'struggle for
depressed class or only one person Muhtarma Benazir Bhutto
Aslam Rasoolpuri

Bhutto's son named as successor
Bilawal Bhutto (BBC)
Bilawal says his father will run the party while he is away
Benazir Bhutto's 19-year-old son Bilawal has been chosen to take over her Pakistan People's Party, after her assassination on Thursday.

He will become president in a ceremonial capacity while he finishes his studies at Oxford University.

Bilawal told journalists at the Bhutto family home: "My mother always said democracy is the best revenge".

Ms Bhutto's widower, Asif Ali Zardari, who will run the party day-to-day, said it would contest January elections.

And he appealed to the former prime minister Nawaz Sharif - a long-time Bhutto rival - to drop his threat to boycott the polls.

Name change

Mr Zardari and his son were speaking at a news conference after a meeting of the PPP leadership in Naudero, near Larkana in southern Pakistan.


PPP TOP LEADERS
Asif Ali Zardari offers prayers at his wife's family home (29 December 2007)
Asif Ali Zardari (pictured) Benazir's widower and former political ally, has faced corruption and other charges
Bilawal Bhutto Benazir's son, a 19-year-old Oxford University student, considered too young by some PPP members
Makhdoom Amin Fahim Senior PPP figure and top aide to Benazir

Profile: Bilawal Bhutto
Mourners blame Musharraf
Search for stability continues

Another senior party official, vice-chairman Makhdoom Amin Fahim, said Ms Bhutto had named Mr Zardari as her successor as party chairman.

But he said Mr Zardari had turned it down in favour of his son - a decision he said the party leadership had endorsed.

Mr Zardari also announced that the couple's children would now change their names and be called Bhutto Zardari.

Sitting between his father and Mr Fahim, Bilawal himself said his father would run the party while he was away at university.

"When I return, I promise to lead the party as my mother wanted me to," he said.

But Mr Zardari blocked any further reporters' questions to Bilawal, saying that although party chairman, he was still of "tender age".

"We are all in mourning," he said.

Mr Zardari also said he had refused to allow an autopsy on Ms Bhutto's body.

"I've lived here long enough to know how and where an autopsy would have been conducted," he said.

Instead, he said the party was asking the United Nations and the British government to conduct an investigation similar to the one carried out after the killing of the former Lebanese Prime Minister Rafik Hariri.

And he appealed for an end to the unrest in Pakistan, which has killed at least 38 people since Ms Bhutto's killing.

New pictures

Earlier, Pakistani television released new pictures it said showed Ms Bhutto's attackers - a gunman and a suicide bomber. They also apparently showed Ms Bhutto was inside her car, and no longer standing through the sun roof, when the explosion happened.

The Dawn newspaper highlights suspects accused of killing Benazir Bhutto
Pakistani media picked out two suspected attackers, one of which apparently raised a gun (bottom)

The images added to the dispute over Ms Bhutto's death.

Interior ministry spokesman Brig Javed Iqbal Cheema said on Friday that she was killed when the force of the bomb blast knocked her head against a sun roof fitting, and was not hit by bullets.

The PPP has insisted she was killed by two bullets, one of which pierced her skull and another which hit her in the neck.

The assassination opened the question of whether elections due on 8 January would go ahead as planned.

The ruling party says they are likely to be delayed for several weeks, on the grounds that the vote would "lose credibility" if held under current conditions.

Opposition parties have been calling for a delay, amid widespread unrest and political disarray following the murder of Ms Bhutto.

Tariq Azim of the ruling PML-Q party said a delay would allow the PPP more time to re-organise.

Pakistan's election commission has called an emergency meeting for Monday, to decide whether the poll should be delayed.

But the PPP says it wants the elections to go ahead as planned - even though it is not clear who would be its leading candidates.

At 19, Bilawal is legally too young to stand for parliament.

And his father has been repeatedly accused of corruption - though he denies the charges and has never been convicted in court.

Mr Zardari said party vice-chairman Mr Fahim would probably be its candidate for prime minister.

But the BBC's Owen Bennett-Jones - reporting from Naudero - says filling the political gap left by Benazir Bhutto will be a very big challenge for her party.

Farewell to Wadi Bua:
By Fatima Bhutto

LARKANA: My aunt and I had a complicated relationship. That is the truth, the sad truth. The last fifteen years were not one we spent as friends or as relatives, that is also the truth. But this week, I too want to remember her differently. I want to remember her differently because I must. I can＊t lose faith in this country, my home. I can＊t believe that it was for nothing, that violence in its purest form is so cruel and so unforgiving. I can＊t accept that this is what we have come to. So, I must offer a farewell. One that is written in tears and anger but one that comes from a place far away, from the realm of memory and forgiving 每- a place where at another time, we might have all been safe. As a child, I used to call my aunt Wadi Bua, Sindhi for father＊s older sister.

When I got the news, I was told that something had happened to Wadi Bua. It was an expression I hadn＊t heard or used in a very long time, when I heard it said to me over the phone I remembered someone different.

We used to read children＊s books together. We used to like exactly the same sweets 每- sugared chestnuts and candied apples. We used to get the same ear infections, ear infections that tortured us and plagued us throughout the years.

I have never before written an article that seemed so impossible. We were very different. Though people liked to compare us, almost instinctively, because well, they could. It is difficult for me to write about two people, one in the present tense and one in the past, at the same time.

Especially when one person＊s passing makes the other one wonder whether there is a cusp to things and whether or not there really is a past and present to life.

I never agreed with her politics. I never did. I never agreed with those she kept around her, the political opportunists, hanger-ons, them. They repulse me.

I never agreed with her version of events. Never. But in death, in death perhaps there is a moment to call for calm. To say, enough. We have had enough. We cannot, and we will not, take anymore madness.

I mourn because my family has had enough. I mourn for Bilawal, Bakhtawar, and Asifa. I mourn for them because I too lost a parent. I know what it feels like to be lost and left at sea, unanchored and afraid.

I mourn for the workers of the party, those who have been bereaved of their own loved ones in this tragedy.

When congregants gather in a church, temple, or mosque they offer prayers for those that reside beyond. The congregants sing to the heavens and they offer the divine their hymns of sadness and hope. There are no hymns consisting of frustration or anger 每- this too shall pass, they say, remember that. What hymns do we sing now?

In those hymns, there is hope encapsulated in the sadness. There is a lingering sense that after darkness a dawn will rise. What then do we have to be hopeful for? And how do we proceed to wake the dawn?

I have always been honest with you, I promised that to you at the beginning. Honestly, I am at a loss. I am compounded in a state of shock.

I am in shock because I have yet to bury a loved one who has died from natural causes. Four. That＊s the number of family members, immediate family members, whom we have laid to rest, all victims of senseless, senseless killing.

I was born five years after my grandfather, Zulfikar Ali Bhutto＊s assassination. I was born into the void of his absence and for my father, Murtaza, I was a new chance at life. I grew up hearing my grandfather＊s speeches, watching him on old black and white video cassettes, enamoured at his every word. My father was a young man when his father was killed and it was something he carried with him every second, every minute for the rest of his life.

I was three when my uncle Shahnawaz was murdered. I remember Wadi Bua sitting with me and telling me stories while the rest of the family was with the police.

When I was fourteen, my life was ended. I lost my heart and soul, my father Murtaza. I am and have been since then a shell of the person I was. I suppose there are cusps in life, and thank god for that because that way we can stay in between.

And now at twenty five, Wadi. But this isn＊t about me, it＊s about those whom we have lost. It＊s about the graveyard at Garhi Khuda Bux that is just too full.

I pray that this is the last, that from this moment onwards we will no longer have to bid farewell too quickly. . Wadi, farewell.
LARKANA: My aunt and I had a complicated relationship. That is the truth, the sad truth. The last fifteen years were not one we spent as friends or as relatives, that is also the truth. But this week, I too want to remember her differently. I want to remember her differently because I must. I can＊t lose faith in this country, my home. I can＊t believe that it was for nothing, that violence in its purest form is so cruel and so unforgiving. I can＊t accept that this is what we have come to. So, I must offer a farewell. One that is written in tears and anger but one that comes from a place far away, from the realm of memory and forgiving 每- a place where at another time, we might have all been safe. As a child, I used to call my aunt Wadi Bua, Sindhi for father＊s older sister.

When I got the news, I was told that something had happened to Wadi Bua. It was an expression I hadn＊t heard or used in a very long time, when I heard it said to me over the phone I remembered someone different.

We used to read children＊s books together. We used to like exactly the same sweets 每- sugared chestnuts and candied apples. We used to get the same ear infections, ear infections that tortured us and plagued us throughout the years.

I have never before written an article that seemed so impossible. We were very different. Though people liked to compare us, almost instinctively, because well, they could. It is difficult for me to write about two people, one in the present tense and one in the past, at the same time.

Especially when one person＊s passing makes the other one wonder whether there is a cusp to things and whether or not there really is a past and present to life.

I never agreed with her politics. I never did. I never agreed with those she kept around her, the political opportunists, hanger-ons, them. They repulse me.

I never agreed with her version of events. Never. But in death, in death perhaps there is a moment to call for calm. To say, enough. We have had enough. We cannot, and we will not, take anymore madness.

I mourn because my family has had enough. I mourn for Bilawal, Bakhtawar, and Asifa. I mourn for them because I too lost a parent. I know what it feels like to be lost and left at sea, unanchored and afraid.

I mourn for the workers of the party, those who have been bereaved of their own loved ones in this tragedy.

When congregants gather in a church, temple, or mosque they offer prayers for those that reside beyond. The congregants sing to the heavens and they offer the divine their hymns of sadness and hope. There are no hymns consisting of frustration or anger 每- this too shall pass, they say, remember that. What hymns do we sing now?

In those hymns, there is hope encapsulated in the sadness. There is a lingering sense that after darkness a dawn will rise. What then do we have to be hopeful for? And how do we proceed to wake the dawn?

I have always been honest with you, I promised that to you at the beginning. Honestly, I am at a loss. I am compounded in a state of shock.

I am in shock because I have yet to bury a loved one who has died from natural causes. Four. That＊s the number of family members, immediate family members, whom we have laid to rest, all victims of senseless, senseless killing.

I was born five years after my grandfather, Zulfikar Ali Bhutto＊s assassination. I was born into the void of his absence and for my father, Murtaza, I was a new chance at life. I grew up hearing my grandfather＊s speeches, watching him on old black and white video cassettes, enamoured at his every word. My father was a young man when his father was killed and it was something he carried with him every second, every minute for the rest of his life.

I was three when my uncle Shahnawaz was murdered. I remember Wadi Bua sitting with me and telling me stories while the rest of the family was with the police.

When I was fourteen, my life was ended. I lost my heart and soul, my father Murtaza. I am and have been since then a shell of the person I was. I suppose there are cusps in life, and thank god for that because that way we can stay in between.

And now at twenty five, Wadi. But this isn＊t about me, it＊s about those whom we have lost. It＊s about the graveyard at Garhi Khuda Bux that is just too full.

I pray that this is the last, that from this moment onwards we will no longer have to bid farewell too quickly. . Wadi, farewell.
LARKANA: My aunt and I had a complicated relationship. That is the truth, the sad truth. The last fifteen years were not one we spent as friends or as relatives, that is also the truth. But this week, I too want to remember her differently. I want to remember her differently because I must. I can＊t lose faith in this country, my home. I can＊t believe that it was for nothing, that violence in its purest form is so cruel and so unforgiving. I can＊t accept that this is what we have come to. So, I must offer a farewell. One that is written in tears and anger but one that comes from a place far away, from the realm of memory and forgiving 每- a place where at another time, we might have all been safe. As a child, I used to call my aunt Wadi Bua, Sindhi for father＊s older sister.

When I got the news, I was told that something had happened to Wadi Bua. It was an expression I hadn＊t heard or used in a very long time, when I heard it said to me over the phone I remembered someone different.

We used to read children＊s books together. We used to like exactly the same sweets 每- sugared chestnuts and candied apples. We used to get the same ear infections, ear infections that tortured us and plagued us throughout the years.

I have never before written an article that seemed so impossible. We were very different. Though people liked to compare us, almost instinctively, because well, they could. It is difficult for me to write about two people, one in the present tense and one in the past, at the same time.

Especially when one person＊s passing makes the other one wonder whether there is a cusp to things and whether or not there really is a past and present to life.

I never agreed with her politics. I never did. I never agreed with those she kept around her, the political opportunists, hanger-ons, them. They repulse me.

I never agreed with her version of events. Never. But in death, in death perhaps there is a moment to call for calm. To say, enough. We have had enough. We cannot, and we will not, take anymore madness.

I mourn because my family has had enough. I mourn for Bilawal, Bakhtawar, and Asifa. I mourn for them because I too lost a parent. I know what it feels like to be lost and left at sea, unanchored and afraid.

I mourn for the workers of the party, those who have been bereaved of their own loved ones in this tragedy.

When congregants gather in a church, temple, or mosque they offer prayers for those that reside beyond. The congregants sing to the heavens and they offer the divine their hymns of sadness and hope. There are no hymns consisting of frustration or anger 每- this too shall pass, they say, remember that. What hymns do we sing now?

In those hymns, there is hope encapsulated in the sadness. There is a lingering sense that after darkness a dawn will rise. What then do we have to be hopeful for? And how do we proceed to wake the dawn?

I have always been honest with you, I promised that to you at the beginning. Honestly, I am at a loss. I am compounded in a state of shock.

I am in shock because I have yet to bury a loved one who has died from natural causes. Four. That＊s the number of family members, immediate family members, whom we have laid to rest, all victims of senseless, senseless killing.

I was born five years after my grandfather, Zulfikar Ali Bhutto＊s assassination. I was born into the void of his absence and for my father, Murtaza, I was a new chance at life. I grew up hearing my grandfather＊s speeches, watching him on old black and white video cassettes, enamoured at his every word. My father was a young man when his father was killed and it was something he carried with him every second, every minute for the rest of his life.

I was three when my uncle Shahnawaz was murdered. I remember Wadi Bua sitting with me and telling me stories while the rest of the family was with the police.

When I was fourteen, my life was ended. I lost my heart and soul, my father Murtaza. I am and have been since then a shell of the person I was. I suppose there are cusps in life, and thank god for that because that way we can stay in between.

And now at twenty five, Wadi. But this isn＊t about me, it＊s about those whom we have lost. It＊s about the graveyard at Garhi Khuda Bux that is just too full.

I pray that this is the last, that from this moment onwards we will no longer have to bid farewell too quickly. . Wadi, farewell.

Pakistan's Musharraf Denies Government Involvement in Bhutto's Death (VOA)
By Nancy-Amelia Collins
Islamabad
03 January 2008


Pakistan President Pervez Musharraf has denied accusations the security forces or intelligence services were involved in the assassination of former prime minister and opposition leader Benazir Bhutto. VOA's Nancy-Amelia Collins in Islamabad has more.

President Pervez Musharraf speaks during a news conference in Islamabad, 03 Jan 2008
President Musharraf, who blames al-Qaida for Ms. Bhutto's death, told reporters he had warned the former prime minister about threats to her safety from Islamic militants as she campaigned for elections.

"I did warn her again that, 'you must understand the environment. You are coming here after so many years. This Pakistan is a different Pakistan, which you don't understand. Please understand the environment and the threat environment that we are living in,'" he said.

Ms. Bhutto's supporters blame the government for failing to provide her with adequate security, while others believe elements within the government were responsible for her death as she was leaving a campaign rally a week ago.

When asked about this, Mr. Musharraf responded with visible anger.

"I have been brought up in a very educated and civilized family, which believes in values, which believes in principles, which believes in character," he said. "My family, by any imagination, is not a family, which believes in killing people, assassinating, intriguing. And that is all that I want to say."

Mr. Musharraf denied a security lapse was responsible for Ms. Bhutto's death, telling reporters she had chosen her own police superintendent in charge of her security and had 30 officers with her. In addition, he said, more than 1,000 police, including rooftop snipers, were deployed at the Rawalpindi rally where a suicide bomber blew himself up near her vehicle after gunshots were fired.

Asked about the hosing down of the blast site just hours after Ms. Bhutto's death, Mr. Musharraf said people cleaning the area did not realize they were destroying potentially crucial evidence.

Mr. Musharraf has invited Scotland Yard investigators to help with the government's probe into the assassination.

But Ms. Bhutto's supporters, including her opposition party, the Pakistan People's Party, demand the United Nations lead an independent investigation.

The government says she was not killed by gunshots or shrapnel, but that she hit her head on the sunroof of the car. Ms. Bhutto's supporters say she was shot.

Ms. Bhutto narrowly escaped a previous assassination attempt last October on the day she returned to Pakistan after eight years in self-imposed exile. That attack claimed the lives of more than 140 people.



Post edited by: admin, at: 2008/01/04 00:21

On the murder of Mrs Benazir Bhutto all country is sad .Every sensitive
pakistani is weeping .Every site,chanel and news paper is commenting
on this sad event 'but Seraiki group is silent .There is no
comment 'no analysis

I as a seraiki nationalist was unhappy her election manifesto 'but
her struggle for democracy in Pakistan and against religious
fundamentalism was a hope of good future of Pakistan .She was also a
ray of hope for poor people and also was a symbol of democracy

Seraiki wasaib is a part of Pakistan .We can't ignore this
murder .There are several political activist in this mailing list .But
there is no comment no reanalysis's expression of grief about this
horrible murder.Why there is a horrible silence between our members .

If position remains 'how we will change our poor wasaib
Aslam Rasulpuri

Who has died

Rasoolpuri saien,

Your message, a mix of condolence and political concern invites further thinking.



BB's killing is a typical 'great tragedy'. Great tragedies become un vanish-able part of history, leave deep mark on collective psyche.



As far Pakistan, people and 'vasaib(s)' are longer and more permanent phenomena than a political geography, a 'named state'.



Whatever future of Pakistan, we need prepare ourselves for future.



The notions dominating day to day discourse--Pakistan, Punjab, Sindh, etc. are important but just at level of talk and discourse.



Peoples’ preparation for future, their enhanced mutual communication and development of peaceful political activism should be an independent work now.






Ahsan Wagha

Qibal Rasoolpuri Sain,

One man in the folk (qaum) of holy prophet Saleh (a.s) cut the legs of his she-camel. But Allah sent His chastisement to thousands of people. Prophet Saleh (a.s) asked Allah why He had so done. Allah told that others were contented with that horrible event and so they were guilty also.

Best Regards- G. Raza

Dear Dr Wagha sahib

Thank you for your reply.You are right "we need prepare ourselves for
future"but at this time this greif is so deep that poetry too can't
exprress it .Today there was edition of wasaib sang khabrain Multan .
Several poems have been published about .B.B .In wich Ashoo lal and
Refat Abbas 's poems were include but no peom really expressed our
greif .
Rasoolpuri

The murder of Mohtrama Benazir Bhutto shows that "our present is like a perfect past". Like her father, she knowingly sacrtificed her life for her cuase.

In her last days, she has been much misinterpreted, particulalrly by the mainstream corporate media. We need to recollect and reflect upon what she has been saying just before and after her return to Pakistan in October 2007.

One thing she has persistently mentioned in her speeches is probable Balkanization of Pakistan. If it becomes true, the question of political geography will become contencious more along national/ethnic lines. This must be a concern for Siraiki wasaib.

Regards,

Mushtaq Gaadi

Sisatdaan taan sirf awam da maal churende hin,
Te ae bandooqaan aale, mal wi churawin te golian wi wasawin, kioon kioon

Oo sirf gunah-gar, te ae faasiq wi te zalim wi

Fisq taan kia, sakoon kufr di hakoomat wi qabool hey, lakin koi sakoon een zulm di hakoomat toon nijat diwawe,

sadi rooh ko kujh sakoon taan aawe.

G. Raza