Re: The most beautiful moment
one word: miracle:)
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Hope he gets a nice family if his own didn’t survive. 
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oh i really want this babyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy
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There was also the clip of the British rescue worker (a woman) who rescued a baby from the margalla towers site after 2-3 days with cheers from the crowd there. She carried the baby to the ambulance in her own arms.
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This is a beautiful picture no doubt. Such angelic smile on the baby’s face. 
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Heartwarming picture 
Do we know anything about his family?
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Allah-o-Akbar!!
Subhanallah miracles do happen. I just love the smile on that baby’s face.
I hope his family is in good shape!
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Absolutely wonderful.
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Priceless picture!!
Thanks for sharing.....
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ai le kitna pyaraa baby haiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii
god bless all those rescuing people.
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Thank you Johny Br
Every time i see the pictures of injured and dying children, its agony. Each face looks like that my my own children,but,
This is picture gives me hope and joy.
Re: The most beautiful moment
the best moment will be when they are saved like the baby. (wish)
Dying father reassures daughter
From Absar Alam
http://www.nation.com.pk/daily/oct-2005/16/index9.php
BALAKOT - Around 8.00 PM last Saturday, moments before Abdul Salam Awan, trapped under tones of rubble of his home, fell unconscious and died, he wanted to talk to his daughter.
“How are you Anum beta?” Salam asked from under the fallen roof. “Mein theek hun. Aap kaisay hein? (I’m OK. How are you?),” Anum, who had sat her pre-medical test just two days ago in Abbottabad, replied.
“Mein bhi theek hun. Ghabrana nahin. (I‘m OK too. Don‘t lose heart),” the dying father gave courage to his daughter. Those were the last words that his relatives heard from him.
On Sunday morning after digging for more than 24 hours with hands, hammers, and pick-axes, when they reached him, his body was cold. “Very cold,” his brother Dr Abdul Aziz Awan said. “I think he had died 10 hours ago.”
Salam’s eldest daughter, Nighat, was trapped in another room and her body could not be recovered till Monday afternoon. His other two daughters, Maheen, 9, and Momina, 12, had gone to the neighbourhood Shaheen School. They were trapped among the 380 students in the rubble. Only Maheen was rescued in time.
No one knew about Momina for four days. She was last seen by a class fellow when all of them were running out of the school as the quake struck. One of his class fellow told Momina’s mother they both were running together and then the roof fell over Momina. The boy’s two sisters were also under the roof. Momina and her class fellows bodies were recovered after four days.
The seven-member Salam family lost three members and now a shattered mother has to take care of two traumatized daughters and a son, Obaidullah. Six-year old Obaid, or Bedi as he is lovingly called, survived because he was out in the street playing with kids.
Few hours after the burial of Salam, by chance I met his elder brother Dr Abdul Aziz Awan, who is Head of Ophthalmology Department at Ayub Medical Complex Abbottabad. He was assembling a team of doctors to take to Balakot.
From Abbottabad to Balakot we drove together and talked.
At 8:50 A.M. that fateful Saturday Dr Aziz was asleep when the earthquake struck. His wife, who is principal of Abbottabad Prep School and was getting ready to go to her job, woke him up. They both rushed outside. After a few minutes they returned inside, Aziz got ready, and tried to contact his brother Abdul Salam in Balakot but with no success. He was worried but did not know what had hit Balakot.
He then went for a drive but came back as the traffic was clogged. He continued his attempt to contact his brother but failed. The anxiety grew.
Three hours after the quake had struck, he received an SMS on his cell phone. “We need help. Many injured. No doctors. Uncle is under the building but alive. Nighat (Salam’s eldest daughter), not sure about her,” the message said.
The message had originated in Balakot, the worst-hit town, from where Yasir, a nephew of Dr Aziz, sent it to his cousin Shahzad who forwarded it to his uncle Aziz.
This SMS brought the first information about his brother and his family.
“Panicked?” I asked.
“Not really. I was worried. I had apprehensions. Didn’t know what to expect,” Dr Aziz said. He called back his nephew and told him he needed half an hour to collect the right stuff and head for Balakot.
Aziz had hammer, pliers, and wrench at home. He went to the medical store and bought whatever emergency stuff was available. Dressing, anti-septic, pain-killers - oral and injective, IV drips, steroids, medicine for eye injuries, water, fruit, blankets, and few mobile phones.
From Abbottabad, it took the group of five rescuers almost three hours to reach Balakot.
“When we reached in the street where my brother lived, I saw my sister-in-law Sitara standing on the flattened rooftop,” Aziz said. There was one friend of his brother and one more person and they were trying to dig a small whole in the roof.
He asked his sister-in-law how was Salam. She took him to the corner of the house and said he was alive and he could talk to him. Sitara, in a desperate attempt to save his life partner, had inserted a pipe in the hole that Salam was holding close to his mouth. Through this pipe she first dripped some water so that he could break his fast. Then she poured some juice to keep him conscious and alive.
“Salam kaisay ho (How are you Salam),?” Aziz asked.
“Bhaijan mein theek hun. Bhaijan aap kab pohnchay (I‘m OK, brother. When did you reach?,” Salam answered from beneath the rubble. Aziz said he just arrived.
“Mera yeh paon and meri taang phansi hoi hai agar zara si gunjaish ho to mein nikal sakta hun (My foot and leg is trapped and if there is a little space available, I can come out),” Salam told his brother.
Just a few streets up on the hill, were trapped Salam’s two daughters under the debris of their school. There was chaos all around. No one knew what to do. Only those people were being rescued whose relatives got the information and arrived in time in Balakot. Rest were crying, and dying slowly under tonnes of concrete, stone, and steel.
Using a tiny torch in their mobile phone, Shahzad and Naveed (Salam’s nephews) peeped into the tiny hole and saw him trapped at the far end of the room that had turned into a cave.
“We started working with the hammer and hands to widen this cave. After two hours we realized we were going nowhere,” Aziz said. “So we decided to approach the building from the other side and called some more friends for help.”
By that time Salam had started to suffocate. He told me he was having difficulty in breathing and he was feeling weak. We tried to put some more fluid through the pipe but the pipe fell out of his hand.
“Mujhe bahut kamzori mehsoos ho rahi aur saans leinay mein takleef ho rahi hai (I am feeling weak and It’s hard to breathe),” Salam said. Then he told me to call his daughter Anum.
Friends arrived with large chisel, water, food, torches and few laborers at 11:30 PM. “But I think by that time it was too late,” Aziz said as he unsuccessfully tried to stop his tears from rolling down.
In between Aziz would rush to the school where his nieces were trapped.
“I could hear the cries of the children. Screams. Wailing of those mothers whose children had died in front of them. Dead bodies were lying side by side and the injured were crying. Fractured limbs. Head injuries.”
Then came rain and more tremors.
“Next day at 10.00 AM we were able to feel his head and arms and these were very cold. I tried to shake him and talk to him. He wouldn’t respond.”
At about 11.00 AM Shahzad and Yasir brought the good news that Maheen, the youngest of the sisters, was alive and lying under a tent. No news of Momina.
After recovering the body of Salam, the family started searching for his eldest daughter, Nighat, in her bedroom. “Then we searched the dining room and we found her there. Perhaps she was trying to run out of her bedroom when the roof collapsed.”
Having seen sudden death of so many loved ones and friends, traumatized and disconsolate Dr Aziz was running to help others within hours. Along with Abbottonian Medical Association (AMA), he is doing whatever is possible to rescue people and provide them food, medicines, and other life-saving stuff.
“We will not criticise the system. We will put forth proposals, so that in future, if such disaster hits us, we should have some kind of policy to handle it,” Aziz said.
On Saturday night I talked to him again only to know that the situation is still awful. Trucks to deliver stuff and volunteers were not available. “There is no monitoring agency that could coordinate relief efforts,” he said. “We have plenty of aid reaching from all over Pakistan but we have no logistics support. We don’t know how to distribute it.”
Fifty-six-years old, Dr Aziz said that he had never seen such an overwhelming response by Pakistani citizens ever in his life. “Not even during the war of 1965.”
What about the government response? Eight days after the calamity, lack of coordination is keeping aid from reaching the injured and the desperate.
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very sad indeed 
Re: Dying father reassures daughter
Brings tears to my eyes...
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:(
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and thats the story of just one of the thousands of families....
may Allah have Mercy on us all....
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^Ameen
Re: The most beautiful moment
Allah ki shaan. Some big strong men died and some innocent helpless childrenn survive for days.
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awwww 
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really priceless. …
Thanks JonyBr –