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		<title>Pdewan: Created page with &quot;500px  {| Class=&quot;wikitable&quot; |- |colspan=&quot;0&quot;|&lt;div style=&quot;font-size:100%&quot;&gt; This is a collection of articles archived for the exce...&quot;</title>
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		<summary type="html">&lt;p&gt;Created page with &amp;quot;&lt;a href=&quot;/ind/index.php/File:Sabeen_mahmud.jpg&quot; title=&quot;File:Sabeen mahmud.jpg&quot;&gt;500px&lt;/a&gt;  {| Class=&amp;quot;wikitable&amp;quot; |- |colspan=&amp;quot;0&amp;quot;|&amp;lt;div style=&amp;quot;font-size:100%&amp;quot;&amp;gt; This is a collection of articles archived for the exce...&amp;quot;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;New page&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;[[File: sabeen mahmud.jpg|Sabeen Mahmud|frame|500px]] &lt;br /&gt;
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[[Category:India |M ]]&lt;br /&gt;
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=Life: 20th June, 1975- 24th April, 2015=&lt;br /&gt;
==A human rights activist from Pakistan==&lt;br /&gt;
[http://epaperbeta.timesofindia.com//Article.aspx?eid=31808&amp;amp;articlexml=Karachi-loses-its-livewire-26042015016020 ''The Times of India''], Apr 26 2015&lt;br /&gt;
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Saba Imtiaz &lt;br /&gt;
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Sabeen Mahmud was the rare person who, in a sea of bitterness and cynicism, tried to inject a spark back into Karachi &lt;br /&gt;
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One day before her death, Sabeen was wearing a patterned blue kurta as she looked around The Second Floor -the eclectic Karachi café and event space that was frequented by hipsters and hip-replacement folks alike -as person after person came up to say hello, catch up, ask about the event going on.&lt;br /&gt;
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Everyone wanted to know how this event was going ahead. This wasn't anything ordinary ­ though events at The Second Floor rarely were ­ but even then, it was remarkable. Mahmud was hosting Baloch activists who have been campaigning against a statesponsored campaign of enforced disappearances and extrajudicial killings in the Balochistan province. The event -titled, in a double whammy of an irony -`Unsilencing Balochistan' -was to be held at the Lahore University of Management Sciences earlier in April but it was cancelled at the government's behest. At the end of the night ­ after a civil dialogue, unhindered by the usual spate of comments masquerading as questions and hyper-nationalist diatribes masquerading as comments -Mahmud received a round of applause. She was the only person who could still willingly host an event like this, perhaps the only place left where one could speak freely .&lt;br /&gt;
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A short while later, she was dead, with four bullets to her face, neck and chest.&lt;br /&gt;
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An activist, artist, creative curator, apple devotee, a recent convert to House M.D. and swimming. All of those fit, and they don't even skim the surface.Sabeen Mahmud was everything and everywhere: at protests and vigils, literary festivals and concerts, at police stations to file First Information Reports against clerics, and more often than not, on the street.She bought a motorcycle and rode it around the neighborhood -a sight just as unlikely in Karachi as a unicorn sighting -and happily offered to lend it, no ques tions asked. She set up a non-profit and The Second Floor and never looked upset or exhausted with the struggle of getting a power connection or managing the place.She was one of the original lights of what is now a burgeoning tech scene. She organized musical conferences and curated creative exhibits and festivals. She hosted everyone: writers, anarchists, actors, filmmakers, techies, hackers, entrepreneurs.She was the rare person who -in a sea of bitterness, cynicism and despondence in Karachi -was always one step ahead with a new plan, project or event, something to inject a spark back into the city .&lt;br /&gt;
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The descriptor that doesn't fit her is dead.&lt;br /&gt;
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The crowd was too young on the second floor, their questions too naïve, their ideas too earnest. But this was what drove Sabeen: to inspire, help and encourage, connect people, foster ideas and creativity , to create not just a physical space, but to help people believe in the infinite possibilities out there.&lt;br /&gt;
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She stood at the back of the café, one eye on the door, one on the talk. She wanted a civilized, open, inclusive discussion. It was the kind of person she was. If her assassin had tapped on her car window and talked to her first, Sabeen would have probably had a rational, polite conversation, and listened to his perspective and shared hers, apologized for keeping everyone waiting in traffic, and then tweeted about it after. Instead, her assassin -and his handler, and his handler in turn -took Sabeen's life, and the infinite possibilities, and the dying wisps of freedom of speech with them.&lt;/div&gt;</summary>
		<author><name>Pdewan</name></author>	</entry>

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