Musing

When relationships crumble and come to an end, how ugly and uncomfortable they become. Just like someone took a blooming rose, full of life and color, and drained it off its vivacity, so now it looks brown and crumbles in your hand when touched, leaving nothing but dust of times gone by behind. It even loses its perfume – it is ugly, haggard, a frightening memoir of the past.

Rain rain go to Spain

“Aasmaan girya karta hai!! “,( Even the sky weeps in this city!!)  These were the comments of a friend I once heard as she expressed her distaste for Vancouver and its seemingly incessant drizzle.
Maybe the monotony of the drizzle and the gloom that prevails has tarnished her idea of rain .. but thousands of miles away on the other side of the coast, I still love rain, even when I feel as if the sky is crying its heart out.
It reminds me of times long gone by, with memories as crisp as the red leaves during Fall in Toronto. For instance, I remember, as if it was yesterday, how the mango trees in our back yard looked when I was about 3 or 4. I can feel the rhythm as I swung up and down on the little red swing my parents had kindly installed on the porch, as I looked out at those trees and the skies. There were a lot of ravens in those mango trees. They made a lot of rukkus after the rain, and they destroyed the fruit. We let them be, it was their territory.
Rain in Pakistan came in two flavors. The gentle and sparse rains of the winter, and the flood causing torrential rains of the monsoon. But far up in the Northwestern plains, the two often seemed to have similar characteristics; the Indus never flooded even during the Monsoon, and the winter rains were always foggy and never gentle. To top it off, my parents moved houses like no others. My rains became memoirs of every house I had lived in, the perspective dependent on the few years I had spent in that house and neighborhood. Once we moved into a ‘Muhallah’ for a short period of time; Pakistan’s version of “traditional” neighborhoods. We had a playground next to the house , well just an empty space with grass in it that the kids used as a playground. As always, it was about 10 ft deeper than the streets surrounding it, so during every rain it became a lake / swimming pool. The kids stood on the corners wishing their parents would let em jump in and have some fun – It never happened. That house also had a mulberry tree – and it always grew purple plump mulberries which were always out of the reach of a small 8 year old.  One rainstorm, it fell down and my mother asked someone to clear the mess. However, as it lay on the ground, my sister Jaweria and I, and some rowdy kids from the street had our share of mulberries, even the ones on the very top branches. That was our revenge!
Finally, my parents decided to settle down in one house and hence, the biggest share of my rain memories comes from the house we live in for past 14 years. Summer rains didn’t come alone in my home town, they brought thunder, lightening  and stormy winds with them. And they had a tendency to start at the worst of times. For instance, right about when me and Jaweria had dragged every medical instrument in the house, as well as drugs marked with “Physcian’s sample not for sale” outside to play “Hospital”, thunder would start and we would get afraid. Jaweria was happy I guess, she didn’t have to be subjected to forced check ups and syrups I forced down her throat. Among the two of us, she ended up going to medical school. I never quiet comprehended the irony.  And sometimes, the skies would get dark and the wind louder as soon as our parents were out of the house and we were alone. Each summer, a few of our eucalyptus and poplar trees went down due to thunderstorms. I never understood why our lane and house had so many to begin with, from the 5ft tall ones to the ones above 50 ft. But everything was always so beautiful after the rain. Even if the trees had fallen,  power lines damaged, we were always happy that the small water canals in the lawn were full of rain water, and our paper boats swam beautifully in them.
Have you ever noticed how the rain makes all colors brighter? Or maybe it was just true of the pomegranate blossoms, so starkly red against the dark green of the leaves. They were always beautiful. I was just sad at how many of them fell during the storm – that meant a lot less fruit, a lot less monkey business on the pomegranate trees.  It was always a bittersweet moment.
The memories continue – from north west to the east , across the border from Amritsar.  I would never forget, nor would anyone who made the mistake of coming in that day, a fine fall morning of 2002. We had just started 2nd year and were very happy to see each other after the entire summer break. Not to mention, we were ecstatic about “ragging” the new comers to the school i.e. the 11th graders.  By 8 o clock that morning, the sky was falling down in liquid form on the city of Lahore. Every single person in my class, looked like a wet rag, thanks to the 10 min run from college gate to the “science” block and our classroom. That morning saw some very interesting scenes. For instance, a class room full of women,  every 2 of them holding a dupatta between them, which they moved up and down. On close inspection, one would notice that this was to make it dry and to aerate it with the aid of the excruciatingly slow ceiling fans of the old science block. No matter how drenched we were, we were thankful the rain kept our professors at home, and we spent the entire day waltzing around the school, gossiping and eating Dahi bhale from ‘Open air’ or Chicken Roll from the “PC”.
Almost a decade later, and thousands of miles west, I still love rain. In Toronto, it seems to be evasive, as evasive as the moods of this city. You will see sunny skies, and the next moment you would be drenched. Then a rainbow will find its way across Finch Ave West, right smack in the middle of the city.  In those moments the city is beautiful, almost surreal, like the rains I remember. The only difference is, the cherry blossoms have replaced the pomegranate blossoms, and instead of paper boats and skipping, I have taken to sipping cappuccino as I look out of the window at the rain.

Ah Engineers!!!

I think it all got triggered when Milad sent that note which was supposed to help us figure out if were indeed engineer-ish. So i I wilfully clicked on that link and in 3 seconds was laughing like anything… its strange how your own bizarre attitudes can be so amusing.. and its not only me — its all those people i know around me who have some of these qualities.. such as

At Christmas, it goes without saying that you will be the one to find the burnt-out bulb in the string of Christmas lights <– yeeep!!!

The Salespeople at Circuit City can’t answer any of your questions <– sadly ! (i can see so many techy heads nodding right now!!)

You go on the rides at Disneyland and sit backwards in the chairs to see how they do the special effects <— lol..this one really killed me. i did not realize I do this..until i read thisss…

and this one is a tribute to swats - You see a good design and still have to change it

but email-jokes apart..i started thinking if this was really true. was there some twisted reasn behind all of us selecting this field and then banging our heads on our computer screens…

so yesterday..me and Chris (a colleague/friend) were playing with Vista — finding bugs and complaining about software when somehow the conversation turned to video games. I remember as a young kid I had this reallly old nintendo on which me and sister used to play Mario all day long… along with the Mario — it had another dumb game called duck hunt which, well which mostly 3 years old played. However, it had a cheap gun which one could use to point and shoot at ducks on the screen as they appeared.. and it had, well, good precision!

However what is hilarious is, that 5 mins into the conversation and Chris confessed that since he had that game he has been wondering how do they do it. Unfortunately,me too! Now we did come up with some pretty groovy ideas so as to how it could have been done, maybe googling it would help further… but what I cannot get over is … 2 6-7 years old NOT playing duck hunt, but thinking about how the gun works…

somebody help!!!!

I stay awake and write this poem ..

Its surprising what stuff one comes around when one is, well, cleaning! Whether the cleaning ritual is of your room, your diaries or your inbox, I always come across stuff that makes me go either what on earth were you thinking!  or something like Remember when I used to be that stupid!

well, I came across this today, and if I remember correctly I wrote this while I was either a senior in school or a freshman after receiving news about a school-mate’s accidental death. It certainly doesnt deserve any merit, but after all these years, its somewhat interesting to come across this

 In the dead of the night
Amidst the silence of the leaves and ashes of the eve
Lstening to the sounds of click beetles
 Humming along with the noisy crickets
Mourning for many a moth’s demise
Shadowed by a veiled, hushed darkness
I stay awake and write this poem

Fumbling wid letters, words, emotions
As rusty as we’ ve grown to be
With vain tries to re-kindle that lost fire
With loads of gruesome effort
My head a jumble of dancing figures….shapes…
Dazed!!
Still I stay awake and write this poem

Listen the sounds of the distant bells?
The merry bells of a wedding…
Ringing leagues away.
The muffled laughter of merry comrades
A slumber party maybe?
While you are annoyed by the bored yawns of a younger sibling
Too much life in those young limbs to rest..
And another one gets ready to meet the end
To bite the dust and be the dust
While I stay awake and write this poem.

once upon a time we were all poetic teen-agers and then we realized what we couldnt do..

Le parole di amore

I dont know what to say about these, except these are the most touching, passionate and deep statements of love I have ever read or even come across. So here goes, from my memory/books to the blog

Wuthering Heights (Heathcliff, when Nelly tells him Cathy is dead)

May she wake in torment!’ he cried, with frightful vehemence, stamping his foot, and groaning in a sudden paroxysm of ungovernable passion. ‘Why, she’s a liar to the end! Where is she? Not there – not in heaven – not perished – where? Oh! you said you cared nothing for my sufferings! And I pray one prayer – I repeat it till my tongue stiffens – Catherine Earnshaw, may you not rest as long as I am living; you said I killed you – haunt me, then! The murdered DO haunt their murderers, I believe. I know that ghosts have wandered on earth. Be with me always – take any form – drive me mad! only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh, God! it is unutterable! I can not live without my life! I can not live without my soul!’

The Woodlanders (Marty on the grave of Giles Winterborne)

 ”Now, my own, own love,” she whispered, “you are mine, and on’y  mine; for she has forgot ‘ee at last, although for her you died. But I–whenever I get up I’ll think of ‘ee, and whenever I lie down I’ll think of ‘ee.  Whenever I plant the young larches I’ll think that none can plant as you planted; and whenever I split a gad, and whenever I turn the cider-wring, I’ll say none could do it like you.  If ever I forget your name, let me forget home and Heaven!–But no, no, my love, I never can forget ‘ee; for you was a GOOD man, and did good things!”

The small coincidences in life

It is odd how some seemingly small events can change what path your life takes. I have been helping with orientations ever since I joined school and at each orientation we hear from the Dean and the academic advisor for the faculty of science and school of engineering. Our dean once told this story which is so remarkable, it is set in my mind.

Dean of science is a biologist, and she told us that when she joined college some decades ago, she took an elective called something like ‘principles of logic’ or ‘logical reasoning’.  The first day she went to the class, the professor came in and started going on and on about predicates and leibniz and stuff that did not make sense to her at all. while everyone else was taking notes vigorously, she was getting confused. so after class she enquired about the class from the guy sitting next to her and realized that the class was NOT an English logical reasoning class, unfortunately it was a mathematical logic class.

and after 5 years… the guy sitting next to her became her husband

— i wonder how many people who we meet like this .. the small events in our life..actually turn out to be milestones.

But some of us just have a different eye color

Everyday since I remember, I have heard the same ideas repeated over to myself, to other people via books, word of mouth, subconsciously or consciously, that XYZ people are bad. For instance, I am Muslim and a Pakistani, I had this idea almost drilled into me that Hindus and Indians are bad, United States is out to get me and Jews are the enemy. Not that someone actually told me this, but it was there in the books, it was there subtly in the stories told by the elders and it was pronounced when people talked about politics at the dinner table.

So in our naive minds, all Hindus initially did turn out to be people who threw away their utensils if  a muslim had used them, Sikhs turned out to be only balvaees (the people who did massacre during partition) and Indians were the ones who took kashmir from us, similarly US were the people who were anti-Pakistan and hence bad..they also helped Israel and hence they were bad.  Same went for kids on the other side of the world in whose opinion muslims were the terrorists and fanatics and the third world dint have much rights and the muslims were out toget them as well. Unfortunately in a kid’s mind, a country’s foreign policy and the people of its country can be intermingled. For a very long time, I was wary of jews, and then I came to university and all my friends turned out to be jews and caucasians and they also figured that I wasnt a terrorist in any aspect .

However, this hatred and this bigotry is fed to us, so much so that it becomes part of our nature. and as the days are passing, unfortunately, the world events are only aiding to strengthen these differences and hatred in many minds.  I cannot help but wonder why is all this happening, and increasingly so.

Today, before the 9 am meeting, Darrin (my manager) told an interesting research story about diversity.  Here is how it went

In 1968, in response to the assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr., Jane Elliott, a third-grade teacher in Riceville, Iowa, decided to teach her class about the evils and realities of prejudice and discrimination. Her remarkable, controversial and startling, “Blue Eyes/Brown Eyes” exercise labeled her third-grade participants as inferior or superior based solely upon the color of their eyes and exposed them to the experience of being a minority.

Ms. Elliot began the exercise by asking her class what they thought of people who were different than they were. She asked about people in wheelchairs, people who were black, Native Americans, older people, and other minority groups. The children responded hatefully, mimicking things that they had heard like “They are different and ugly,” and “They smell.” Then, Ms. Elliott asked the blue-eyed children to raise their hands and all the brown-eyed children to raise their hands. She then responded with the “undeniable fact” that all blue-eyed children are smarter than brown-eyed children, cleaner, study harder and are simply better than brown-eyed children. The blue-eyed children immediately felt superior, while the brown-eyed children felt let down and abused.

Ms. Elliott made the brown-eyed children wear green collars for the day, and announced the blue-eyed children would get five more minutes of play time and would have no homework for that day. The brown-eyed children would have to use a cup to get water from the drinking fountain and would have five minutes less for lunch. They were also made to sit together on one side of the class room.  That day the children who were once friends picked on and fought with one another. The blue-eyed children scored well on flash card tests, while the brown-eyed children scored substantially lower.

The next day the roles were reversed. Ms. Elliott told the children that she had lied. Brown-eyed children were in fact the superior ones. The collars were switched and the day proceeded as the day before had. This time the brown-eyed children felt superior. They scored higher on tests. The mayhem of the day before was repeated in the fights.

On the Wednesday after each group of children had played the superior and inferior roles, the collars were destroyed and the class was reunited. The children huddled together and explained how the experiment made them feel. Each child attested and confirmed that he or she would try in the future to recognize people who might be different and embrace the differences rather than discriminate against them.

Sometimes I wonder, if this is all because some of us sit on the different side of the classroom . If so, how sad is the state of the world we live in .. how limited its color palette.

 

My supposed epitaph – I just had to post it – lmao!

Take this quiz at QuizGalaxy.com

Canada – the country above United States

Every time I go out to buy anything, I am almost always fuming at the amount of tax that I have to pay. Whats worse is that it is never added to the price which is listed on the cover; so a 200$ dvd player isnt exactly 200$, its 230 instead and so on and so forth. I am outraged when every time I end up paying a 23% fed tax plus around 400$ in CPP and EI out of my meagre student paycheck. Then I talk to someone in United States and feel almost angry at the low priced stuff available– especially in the everyday items category.

Yet, the day I decide to cross the border and go to United States, I fall back in love with Canada all over again.  The border on Niagara between Canada and United States is almost  a non border in the sense that one can walk at leisure back and forth as far as the distance is concerned. I have seen people picking up liquor in Niagara and going back to Buffalo, I have myself travelled from Toronto to Buffalo and back in one day. There is so much geographical closeness and the norms are quiet similar; we all drive on the right side, we all call our elevators as elevators, we all have freeways or highways instead of motorways, we all have malls at every second corners and we all call our mobiles ‘cell phones’. But it is a different world on the two sides of the border even then.  The difference is there in the atmosphere, and worst– the people.

Every time I cross the border into United States I feel like a frigging idiot. The list of incessant questions is infuriating; worst is the tone in which they are asked. I have been driven to almost forget about going to States anywhere and return from the airport. Whats with all this? I understand that security is an issue with the country, it is with every country however and not just United States, but the border officials actually question you like you have committed a murder and they are your prosecutors. Whats worse is the obvious racial discrimination that goes on — maybe I am being a little too sensitive but I am not used to beind made to feel as if I have committed a crime by being a Muslim or brown.

 On the other hand when you hit the Canadian border, it is almost as if you are hanging out in a Tim Hortons – the border officials would be almost joking around with you, sympathising with you if you drove all th way from Oregon, and not asking you 30 min long annoying rhetoric questions.

Well once the ordeal with the border is done with, then comes the actual United States dilemma. Everyone seems either angry or downright psychotic.  I am sorry for making such a general statement but in the few times I have actually been to United States, I can count the number of helpful or ‘nice’ people I have met. I had always heard that French were the rude ones, and Canada would be half French. Au contraire, I see well 90% nice people around here, all ready to help you around if you have a knack for getting lost or in general. This last statement is based on my observation of Toronto during rush hours, say around 8 am at a busy subway station, compare this to New York or anywhere else in United States. The first statement I had from my cousin who came to Canada for a visit was, ‘I cannot believe how nice everyone is’. Somehow it does make a day easy when livin up here — even in the wind chill of 0-40 C.

 Its amazing how I keep on hearing people calling countries such as United States and UK as ‘multi-cultural’ — correction, they are not multi-cultural, they are basically caucasians and Asians (including Indians and Pakistanis) with a sprinkling of African Americans. Again, not so in Canada — well thankfully.  When it is called multi-cultural — it means MULTI CULTURAL — including Asians, Desis, europeans (especially italians, greeks, polish, french, irish and scottish) as well as people from Africa and Australia. It is one nice panache and maybe thats one reason the society is so much more tolerant of different belief systems and ethics as well as races than anywhere else. Another salient reason would be the fact thta everyone who calls themselves a canadian is a first generation or second generation Canadian (with very rare occurrences of third generations and longer Canadians), so a person whose family has lived in canada for 100 years or more is as Canadian as an immigrant who took his oaths just some months ago. The very make of the society and the general feeling towards different races makes these people into Canadians — much more so than most people living in other countries such as UK and US can ever say.

Canada would also be the definite place to live and raise a family. The taxes are a killer (going to about 50- 55% I believe) but the free healthcare, secondary education, extensive loan structures for post secondary education, pension plans, employment insurance and so on so forth make it worth the while in the long run. Canada was in the top three countries of the world for its living standards in 2002-2003. 

If you have an artistic flair and love country or just love the old style pubs and archietcture, Canada is definitely the place to be. Even Toronto is full of ravines and valleys and parklands in the middle of the bustling city,helping people like me feel close to nature. On the other hand, anyday you are feeling a little artsy or folksy, all you have to do is go downtown and hit Entertainment district, cabbagetown or the old English area around St George and Kensington Market. Even the day you want some sun and a beach fun– all u need to do is to hit the lake shore.

Its  all these things and many more, which make so many people fall in love with this country. It is a country above United States in every sense – geogrpahical, literal and actual.

Dance of the Lights

Yesterday on my way back from States, I had the chance to capture the canada day and niagra falls fire works. Unfortunately as the bus kept on moving, I couldnt actually capture the fireworks as my hands kept on being jerked. I, however, got some images with lights dancing all over the place.

they are not fireworks, but if you look close enough you can make out any image you want. The contrast of the pitch black night with the reds and greens of the lights are also intriguing–well at least for me

    

Confessions cum stupidities — part 1

Today while watching one of the friends episode, I realize how innocent and creative the imagination of a kid can be. I intend to post some of my own brilliant ideas off and on as I remember them

 1- For a very long time i though gun point was an actual place. And i wondered why people keep on going there as every day the newspaper was filled by stories of people being robbed at gun point or being kidnapped at gun point. Also as most prominent news used to be about isloo, and isloo had a pindi point close by, i always thought gun point was also somewhere close.

stupid…but hehe

On an educational approach.

Every time I meet a person who is condemning the Pakistan education system, i nod my head in agreement.  Then I come back and start tutoring a 12th grader or a university student who graduated in Canada or US with an IB, A levels or the usual US-Canadian school system. There are some very annoying moments during these time periods when I am forced to realize that Pakistan education system is not all that bad. Before this statement creates a tantrum among the readers, let me clarify myself. I don’t think there is anything wrong with the curriculum, or lets say there wasn’t anything wrong with the curriculum in 2002 at least. So far as the examination and testing goes, I am in complete agreement with the general notion.I say this especially about the curriculum in the fields of Mathematics for engineering and science majors, as well as Physics and languages. The first day I entered the calculus class in university, i realized this was the wrong place to be; I knew everything that was going on in 1st year's Differential Calculus (minus the theory part for Cauchy theorems) and I certainly knew everything that went on Deferential calculus for engineers as there was no theory in it. Worst than that, I knew everything that went on next semester in Integral calculus; the result was me sitting bored in the class hardly paying attention. One of the beauties of these two courses is that they ban the use of any calculator in them, for obvious reasons. This sends waves of terror throughout the class; however it doesn’t seem bad at all to people like me as we are not used to being allowed calculators in school anyway. We make our brains work at times. The result is the greatest number of failing students in these courses; courses which are quiet easy if you have done them before in school.  The coursework that is used for science and Math classes back in Pakistan is quiet extensive and what I term as ‘hard’.

 In mathematics they cover everything like set theory, algebra, differential and integral calculus, analytical geometry, discrete math, statistics, group theory, probability theory and much more. Similarly for physics the curriculums starts at Newtonian Mechanics and kinematics, including stuff like industrial physics, electrostatics, electronics, fluid mechanics and so on till grade 10 with much more interesting modules such as thermo,  modern physics, nuclear physics and sound and waves left for 11 and 12 grade with more extensive discussion of the previous ones. I never took chemistry beyond grade 10 but whatever I learnt in those 2 years has enabled me to tutor 1styear chem. Majors in here as well (at least for organic chem and inorganic chem.). The computer courses, while not at all to my liking, were still quiet practical. Same went for biology,Hence the science curriculum is not exactly a problem in Pakistan, it is extensive, up-to-date and useful plus it makes you think.  On the other hand, there is something amiss in all this which is reflected in the fact that we have tons of graduates who don’t know squat about any of these things. Where does the education system actually go wrong? The answer probably, lies in the methodology adopted for teaching as well as testing the students which encourages cramming.Some of the reasons most students fail to learn anything would be

• The only thing that matters are the pre boards and the board exams. You can sit on your ass all year long and do nothing, yet cram everything towards the end in 2 weeks and get a decent grade. This does not make you learn anything for the long haul. Short term memory stores everything written in the book and as easily forgets about it.
• The way board examinations work actually encouraged regurgitation of what’s written in the book much more than actual knowledge and understanding. I do not think writing a 2 page essay on a Geiger-Muller counter makes you learn anything, solving for the half life and radioactivity of uranium block does. The emphasis should be on the application and problem solving side of the issue and not on the regurgitating side. Unfortunately this is the case for all sciences except math in most cases.
• The other biggest problem would be the total laziness of the teachers, both in the schools and then at the board level. I mean no disrespect, but coming to think about it, the effort that is actually put into making students ‘learn’ rather than topping the board is zilch. Same goes for the effort that goes into designing the questions. I could never understand why the board would pick questions and numerical from the chapter exercises of the books and put them exactly the same way in the exams. I have solved the same damned integral 5 times; I would practically know it by heart during the exam. Make new questions that make students use their mind and not their writing speed or cramming power.
• Same would go for the practical examinations and viva. The idea of having a practical experiment which tries to explain the theory learnt is amazing and downright great. What’s not great is the fact that due to sheer repetition, everything is just copied off previous year’s student notebooks. If the teachers go an extra mile by posting pre-lab exercises and post-lab exercises that check the level of understanding of students, this wouldn’t be a problem. The viva examiners should also try to ask different questions, questions that don’t come from the back of the exam book. My worst viva was the one where the examiner asked me to define ‘torque’. I was jolted and to some extent insulted, who asks an 11^th grader to define  torque. On the other hand, my best viva was the one where examiner went all over the place asking so many different questions, even the ones that were not supposed to be known by a 10^th grader. I felt good after the viva, it made me learn as I looked up everything I did not know and be proud of what I  did know and managed to answer.

There are a few problems with the arts curriculum however, not the languages mostly but for others the curriculum sucks big time. Even for languages, some stuff is somewhat useless. I mean talk about reading Goodbye Mr Chips in 12^th grade as a novel; it would be more like a pathetic excuse for a novel. What happened to stuff like Pride and Prejudice (I am an Austen junkie) and Old Man and the Sea or something of that kind? But language courses are still okay, the worse of its kind would be the most boring subject called Pakistan Studies. Now I am a Pakistani and I love my country, but I don’t want to remember and cram Jinnah’s 14 points every year starting in grade 7. Why don’t we introduce history, culture, geography and so on? Why are we stuck at what Nehru said and what Gandhi said and what Jinnah said. I mean really, at this stage do we care more than just having it as a history we might know about? Why are we never taught about the governmental structure existing in our own country, of the judicial system of our country, of the problems that Pakistan is facing, of the foreign policy of the country?   The school system tries its best to make us all pre-partition groupies. I have nothing against the struggle for Pakistan, I couldn’t!! But to teach it year after year is just tedious and useless. Make a point of what we stand for and move on, no one cares when Simon Commission came to India and what they did.

On the other hand, what most students need is a little improvement of their general knowledge beyond all this. Teach them some things about world history; I have met some 17 year olds who don’t know what holocaust is! That’s just tragic. Teach them something about world geography and demographics. In short, teach them about what kind of world they live in and where in it do they belong as a nation and individuals. I personally think that arts courses and especially like these are an excellent opportunity to make humans and citizens out of the students attending schools. Unfortunately, the education system does not avail this opportunity.  Another big joke is the Islamiat period that we all have. I have never seen something as ineffective; it just doesn’t do anything at all to teach morals or religion to the students. All it does is to make them afraid of translating Arabic!  They go on and on teaching 3 surahs throughout the school, oh well maybe 7! What is amusing is that no one ever questions if the students reading those surahs actually have ever read Quran or even know how to read it. Students are required to cram all the moral lessons to regurgitate them on the exams but no one asks them if they even know how to offer prayers. Whereas we are always taught that school is the place where the real upbringing of the child takes place, why doesn’t anyone at school bother to teach us the basics of islam? Starting from reading Quran and namaz.

Yet another thing which is more amusing than anything, is the fact that the only province where urdu is compulsory i.e. the academic urdu and not the easy kind (hehe) is Punjab. While I am all for it and I wish other provinces could do the same, I cannot fathom why Punjab is the only province where the students are not taught their mother tongue i.e. Punjabi. Sindh, Balochistan and NWFP all have Sindhi, Balochi and Pashto as part of curriculum. Is it because of the close relationship of Punjabi and urdu or merely because there are too many dialects and versions of Punjabi language to make it unified? I guess I would never know now!!!

Yet another stone this way

This community describes what actually the Ahmadis are. They say that they are Muslims and write that "There is only one God and Muhammad (SAW) is the Prophet of Allah" but they dont say that Muhammad (SAW) is the last prophet of Allah. Which is a bsic requisite of being a Muslim. According the Pakistan Law they are non-believers. Please go to the sites below for information
the text above is what i am used to seeing all over the place. It doesnt even bother me any longer, not because I think there is any truth to the matter but because I have come to terms with the fact that there are always going to be morons in the world, and whats more; theyare going to be in a far greater abundance than even marginally sensible people.

Whats more; when they are writing stuff and inviting people to join in with them, its their extraordinary sense of self importance yet nothingness that just annoys me like anything. Look at the above italicized statement for example, I wouldnt even bother to go into hardcore theological issues because there is no need to; the statement can be proved absurd anyway.  This gentleman is telling the world why ahmadis should not be considered muslims; and his reason is that they accept the Kalima, they do say Allah is the only one worthy of worship and that Muhammad SAW is his prophet; but they dont say that Muhammad is the last prophet.. now just imagine the magnitude of self importance of this person and the likes of him; they think THEY ARE THE ONES to decide what counts as being muslim. God and his prophet are content with the fact that if someone believes in the kalima, he or she is muslim enough for us…oh holddd on..not for these guys! they are there to introduce a NEW clause to the term Muslim.

I am ashamed; that our government actually is composed of numskulls and was composed of numskulls; the calibres of whom have never been reached. Back in 1974 as well, they did spend the much-needed-elsewhere national revenue on composing a clause that would serve as making a set of people stand out as non muslims and would later on give rise to a sectarian violence never seen before in pakistan. Whats worse is that all these leaders of the nation failed to comprehend what their beliefs themselves were and followed the advice and decisions of Mullahs, quiet a few of them are completely uneducated, and even if they are; they havent gained a shred of Knowledge at least. (Amusingly; the only person in Pakistan who becomes a molvi or mullah, is the one who cannot do anything else i.e. he cannot be a doctor, he isnt smart enough to be an engineer; hence mom and dad send him to a madrissa where he begs his way through his life; getting fundamentalist views hard coded in his brain and every last shred of tolerance and common sense out of him. At this stage he is ready to be a completely full fledged molvi, the one our nation turns to for religious advice)

Anyway back to the original point; so first of all somehow miraculously they all have decided that a new clause is necessary for being a muslim,a clause which neither Allah nor his prophet SAW thought was necessary or they did not have enough insight to introduce it at that point (Nauz Billah) but which these magnificient scholars have suddenly figured out. Secondly; since kindergarten we have been made to rote what is called Iman-e-Mufassil (Detailed-Faith) and Iman-e-Mujammil (Concised-Faith?) which are basically summations of what a muslim's faith is.

Now the Iman's statements from a sunni website (of course) — http://www.mahdavia.info/chiragdeen/islamicCommands.htm

Iman-e-Mujmil

I have faith in Allah as He is known by His Names and attributes
and I accept all His commands.

Iman-e-Mufassil

I have faith in Allah and His Angels, His Books and His Messengers, and the Day of
Judgement and that all good and evil and fate is from Almighty Allah and it is sure that
there will be resurrection after death **.

Now maybe I am blind or need better glasses, but I cannot see where is the 'last prophet' cause stated anywhere here? Out of the blue –they have however decided that it is indeed a clause for being a Muslim.

on the other hand, what I do see is the statement that I believe in ALL of Allah's messengers or nabis; now the problem becomes that IF Mirza Ghulam Ahmed is indeed a Nabi, it is everyone who denies him being one who becomes kafir or well at least rejects his Iman-e-Mufassil or his detailed faith. To declare someone non muslim based on a dispute or what a word Khatam-un-Nabeeyeean or Seal of Prophets implies is one idiotic endeavour. Whats worse is that (call me biased if you would) but sensibly speaking I think that a seal serves as an identification for a document or whatever it is the seal is sealing, and not for the purpose of closing something i.e. its intention isnt to close something–just like seal of kings used to be for identification purposes and not for the purpose of closing anything.

The sheer stupidity of this all, almost amounting to being terribly annoying.

As the days rush by..

It is May 22nd and this would be a long weekend all over Canada, or shall I say the end of a long weekend. All of Canada celebrates Victoria Day today, a tribute to their long gone affiliation with the Great Britain and not-so-long-gone affiliation with the queen of England.

Its afternoon and I have done only what is expected to be done on a long rainy and extremely cold weekend (yes, extremely cold,we are almost entering June and have heat turned on in our apartments hitting low 30's , Fahrenheits of course. Thats Canada for you.) I have sat all day long in this chair and done nothing, I have watched the Cosby show and all possible shows I could watch and sipping my tea (A ritual that makes me feel closer to home than I am). As the afternoon has dragged on I suddenly realize that the weekend has passed, the long weekend I had so much looked forward to has come and gone by. It is almost appalling how the days seem to be fleeting by and all I hear is a wooshing sound as I move from deadline to deadline, living my life in short hasty intervals,skipping lunches to sprint to meetings and trying to catch up on phone calls with everyone at the end of every month. All this always raises a question in my head, have the days shrunken as I have grown older? It has been such a long time since I have actually wanted the day to be over because I was bored and the day seemed to be dragging on and on, these days I normally wish it to drag a little over 24 hours so that I might return that defect which is still tagged against me, or catch up on the research project I still have to file a report for. Maybe its just me, with my insane habit of getting piled up with work, or maybe the clocks have indeed started ticking faster , who knows?

I am an avid reader, or well i used to be. I have always wanted to read everything that comes by me, from the wrapping paper of  a chocolate box to a thorough discussion of theology; I get that from my father who still manages to read something even after 18 hours of surgeries and complaining patients. On the other hand, I do not recall what was the last book i actually finished, but I remmeber all of them I actually started such as Down by river Piedra I sat down and wept, 1984, the animal farm, memories of midnight, Vernoica decides to die, The portrait of the well beloved, Agnes Grey, tried re reading  Jude the Obscure, Adventures of Tom Sawyer  and the list is shamefully long. The problem is once I have started, I am engrossed, but then I get caught up in work and by the time I have moments to spare, I have no clue what the book was about, so I start a new one, with hopes of a better ending– it hasnt come as yet.

I wonder when would it be when I stop being such a slave to time, or actuallywhen everyone stops bein such a slave to time. We are all always in a rush, missing out on whats important, what actually matters (not to say that work doesnt, Oh God no! it puts the food in your mouth and clothes on your body, but whats the use if you actually cannot take the time to enjoy the food you are eating as you are gulping it down with one eye on the clock?) On the other hand, I am thinking of opening a clock shop, or watch shop, these tend to be the single most important piece of our everyday life especially if embedded in a nifty cell phone.

So for one day I am sitting back and trying to slow down the days fleeting by me– as my life rushes unnoticed itself.

Summer rain

Today was a typical toronto summer day, clouded dark skies vivid green foliage intersparsed with trees studded with light pink and red flowers and the wind blowing ur hair and everything else away. Rain came and went all day long, did not see most of it working in the confines of my pwa, but had all the evening free to wander around the city. This poem by faiz keeps on coming back to me–and what better place to put it all out than a blog?

Raat yun dil main teree khoee hooeee yaad ayee
Jaise veeranay main chupke se bahar aa jaye
Jaise sehraon main holay se chalay baad-e-naseem
Jaise beemar ko be wajha qarar aa jaye

Dil raheen-e-gham-e-jahan hai aaj
Har nafs tashna-e-faghaan hai aaj
Sakht veeran hai mehfil-e-hasti
Aye gham-e-dost tu kahan hai aaj