A Friend in Need ...

How bad can a relationship between two military allies get? Pakistan and the U.S. keep us guessing.

In the wake of a NATO attack killing 25 Pakistani soldiers this weekend, Pakistan has indefinitely shut NATO supply lines through the country and said it was re-evaluating its military, intelligence and diplomatic links with the U.S. It also gave the U.S. two weeks to pull out of a Pakistani air base that Washington has used in the past to launch covert drone strikes on Taliban militants. Pakistan is also threatening to pull out of next week's Bonn conference on Afghanistan, at which key stakeholders will attempt to draw up a plan for transition from a US-led NATO command to an Afghan security force by December 2014.With Pakistan's co-operation considered key to an orderly and peaceful transition, the Afghan authorities urged Islamabad to reconsider.

With plans of a pull out starting as early as next year, this may not be the first strategic mistake the US had made in this war, but it could yet prove the costliest. The short-term response is not as troubling as the long-term implications. The closure of NATO supply lines will make Barack Obama more dependent on Vladimir Putin's goodwill, and the northern supply route through which 60% of troops and military cargo to Afghanistan now travel. But, of itself, the closures will be a temporary problem. Of greater significance is the erosion of Pakistani public support for the US fight against the Taliban. Images of the funerals of the young martyrs filled television screens across Pakistan on Sunday and protests against the attack were held throughout the country. “Imagine how we would feel if it had been 24 American soldiers killed by Pakistani forces at this moment,” Senator Richard J. Durbin, Democrat from Illinois, said on Fox News Sunday.

Hilary Clinton and Pentagon big shots responded with the usual regrets and worthless determinations to investigate, without admitting responsibility - all while Pakistan's own death toll from the "war on terror" rises, it struggles under an excess of American demands that are contrary to its own national interest, and as uninformed, people-pleasing US-senators and Republican presidential candidates continue to pick on this infinitely more important country.

The thought that destabilized, poor Pakistan has no choice but to slavishly obey what the master says could be one of the biggest misconceptions of this century. If bullied for long enough, it could learn to firmly and politely tell the US that it must, from henceforth, conduct its war on terror by itself and that while Pakistan is willing to be a friend, it is unwilling to destabilise and destroy its own stability for the neocon cause. Then, Pakistan has other friends to turn to: alternative alliances with China or Russia could lead to a completely different ball game.

Pakistani soldiers carry coffins of their comrades killed in a NATO air strike during a funeral ceremony in Peshawar
Photo: AFP PHOTO / A. MAJEED

Addicted to Reality

"This is what is wrong with our country."

"It's all scripted anyway."

"People who watch this crap have no lives of their own."

Yes, everyone loves to hate reality t.v. Yet, people can't stop clicking on the stories to get the latest scoop on their favorite Housewives. I'll watch the History Channel, I'll watch the news, but reality shows are my guilty pleasure. It's OK. We all have those. Some of us openly embrace our love for reality t.v., while others hope our friends or family never see our DVR schedules.

Topping my list of guilty pleasures have to be the Kardashians. I know, I know. Everyone likes to say they don't understand why the family is famous, etc etc. But whatever they are, I give them credit for being highly entertaining. Also, for having some level of skill and talent that will surely not let you turn the damn show off. It's addicting. I got sucked into the whole phenomenon. I found myself watching episode after episode, surprised, horrified, and entertained all the same time. Crying over diamond earrings, shoving money into waiters' mouths, changing dresses multiple times at the wedding, getting your butt x-rayed - problems of the rich and famous, right? But throw in some issues that most people can relate to, like the dad's struggle to connect with his teenage daughters or the guy's attempt to make the girl's family like him, and it all kinds of become close to your life.

So, reality t.v.may be over the top, dumbed down and at times straight up offensive, but it’s one fun guilty pleasure. I couldn't get past the first 15 seconds of Jersey Shore, but I love me some Real Housewives and the Kardashian clan. What's better than Kim K's two-day four-hour nuptial palooza? The upcoming season of Kourtney and Kim take New York where we get to see what went wrong with the marriage. CAN'T WAIT!!

Come and see the blood in the streets

Nothing but the usual. A suicide attack. Broken windows. Shards of glass on the floor. Read it. Move on.

But it's different this time. The pictures I see catch me off guard. I recognize this place - the place I associate with my childhood. A childhood so sheltered and so unmarred, I look at the pictures and think, "How could it be?" It's our lab, our library. It's the place I associate with laughter, memories, best friends, goofiness. OII Science, the makayee wala, Sir Sami and his pink shirts, Shammo and her attempts at insulting the students, everyone harassing Laali, stories of Mogadishu. But it's different this time. I feel the heat in my face. Warm tears roll down. I'm too far to feel this.

I've written enough about my city's resilience. That it will come out stronger. That it will carry through. Like every other time. I like to write optimistic pieces possibly because of my love for this city. When you love a place so much you can't hope for anything else except for the fact that it'll eventually bounce back because it's too much to think of the consequences that will occur if it doesn't. But do I feel the same now that I see pictures of my school with the broken windows and the shards of glass on the floor? It was different then. We could see the ocean from our classroom and make jokes about the tsunami because we thought we were invincible. The tsunami couldn't reach us. The lala at the gate would keep the bad guys out. And that was all the security that we needed. That was how I grew up, that was the Karachi I grew up in. And thus, when I hear anything negative now, I tune it all out with memories of my safe, happy childhood.

It's not the same now, they say. I rant about my city's spirit, the people's strength. Come and see the blood in the streets, they say. There are beautiful things about this city, yes. Love for Karachi is love regardless of whatever happens. You come home to Karachi simply because it is home. I’m beginning to wonder whether this is good enough anymore. Is it enough to be blindly attached to a place as you watch it burn? Do the people whose children are being murdered and homes are being looted on an almost daily basis, feel this love? Or do they simply feel anguish and misery? Would I have felt this love for my city had I been in school that day? Or would I have been scared to go every time? And just waited to get the fuck out of there?

My emotions can only take me so far. I say this as someone who has always believed that the city will bounce back in spite of everything. No, it won’t - I reluctantly realize it now. It won’t bounce back because it has been raped and mutilated far too many times now. Most of the city has been affected by the violence. The unaffected have convinced themselves it is part and parcel of life in Karachi. People go about their businesses the day after a blast not because of their ferocious pride in their city - they go because they don't have a choice. They are proud because they feel defensive about a part of the country whose problems are too often treated like they don’t belong to the rest of Pakistan. They are aggressive because if you attack and assault someone long enough, s/he eventually fights back. Or learns to live with it.

Pablo Neruda writes this about the Spanish Civil War and it sounds too much like home:

I'M EXPLAINING A FEW THINGS
(tr. Nathaniel Tarn)

You are going to ask: and where are the lilacs?
and the poppy-petalled metaphysics?
and the rain repeatedly spattering
its words and drilling them full
of apertures and birds?

I'll tell you all the news.

I lived in a suburb,
a suburb of Madrid, with bells,
and clocks, and trees.

From there you could look out
over Castille's dry face:
a leather ocean.
My house was called
the house of flowers, because in every cranny
geraniums burst: it was
a good-looking house
with it's dogs and children.
Remember, Raul?
Eh, Rafel?
Federico, do you remember
from under the ground
my balconies on which
the light of June drowned flowers in your mouth?
Brother, my brother!
Everything
loud with big voices, the salt of merchandises,
pile-ups of palpitating bread,
the stalls of my suburb of Arguelles with it's statue
like a drained inkwell in a swirl of hake:
oil flowed into spoons,
a deep baying
of feet and hands swelled in the streets,
metres, litres, the sharp
measure of life,
stacked-up fish,
the texture of roofs with a cold sun in which
the weather vane falters,
the fine, frenzied ivory of potatoes,
wave on wave of tomatoes rolling down the sea.

And one morning all that was burning,
one morning the bonfires
leapt out of the earth
devouring human beings-
and from then on fire,
gunpowder from then on,
and from then on blood.
Bandits with planes and Moors,
bandits with finger-rings and duchesses,
bandits with black frairs spattering blessings
came through the sky to kill children
and the blood of children ran through the streets
without fuss, like children's blood.

Jackals that the jackals would despise,
stones that the dry thistle would bite on and spit out,
vipers that the vipers would abominate!

Face to face with you I have seen the blood
of Spain tower like a tide
to drown you in one wave
of pride and knives!

Treacherous
generals:
see my dead house,
look at broken Spain :
from every house burning metal flows
instead of flowers,
from every socket of Spain
Spain emerges
and from every dead child a rifle with eyes,
and from every crime bullets are born
which will one day find
the bull's eye of your hearts.

And you'll ask: why doesn't his poetry
speak of dreams and leaves
and the great volcanoes of his native land?

Come and see the blood in the streets.
Come and see
The blood in the streets.
Come and see the blood
In the streets!

Photo credit: Nefer Sehgal/Express Tribune

A Summer of Swag

It's a little hard to believe this summer is almost over. It feels like yesterday when we got to work at 6.30 am for our first orientation; all of us newbies, a bundle of nerves, not exactly sure what to expect. When all the veterans said that this was going to be the best summer of our lives, I was telling myself it was an exaggeration. But a summer and fifteen orientations later, we were answering questions like pros, creating memories by the second, and had become an inseparable bunch of obnoxious adults.

My journey to OA-land was very random. I got bored studying for finals at Anschutz and decided to look up the website on a flyer posted on a notice board in front of me. The ASK ME was a little intriguing. On the website, the job description sounded fun. The selection process sounded pretty challenging and thus, convinced me it was a much coveted position. Going through transfer orientation myself, I wasn't aware of the importance of orientation assistants at all. Nevertheless, I printed off the application and told myself to apply for the position as soon as I got done with finals.

Finals ended. I went back to Wichita. It took me sometime to motivate myself to finish up the essays for the application. Soon enough, it was the last day to submit the application. That morning, I completed the application and asked the post office to get it to Lawrence as soon as they could. Then, over winter break in California, I was pulling up the NSO website everyday to find my pin number. I had made it to Round 2.

After many interviews, much anticipation, last minute wardrobe malfunctions and the realization that I didn't have enough interview-type clothing, I was going to the NSO office to pick up my letter to find out if I had made it. I walked out of the office to read it. Found myself a spot where I could sit had I not made it and would need to comfort myself. Skipped all of it and tried to look for a Congratulations! And there, I found it. Typed in black ink. Read it over to make sure I wasn't imagining it. And then awkwardly walked back into the NSO office to pick up the acceptance packet. Good times.

Then, after weeks of ruthless training, shameless ice breakers, and uncountable inside jokes, we had all become orientation assistants. We had heard deans brag about their schools, practiced skits, gotten over 10 foot walls, seen far too many graduate assistants, experienced major changes in NSO administration, played pennies at a diversity retreat, and slept in a camp where 'purpling' was not allowed. Some things were unanimously agreed to at the beginning: swag will be the word for the summer, Ramona will ask too many questions, Stewart will share his invaluable experience, ride that pony will be our favorite ice breaker. Some things were established later in the summer: Sergent Cunningham will make us look for the 1 in every 5 college age women, the mic will refuse to work for anyone starting the intros and not only be mean to Becky, people will come and go but we will continue to rock orientation. Although some things are still to be figured out: how do students end up at their small group advising when clearly told several times to go to their AIM, what does Stoppel do on his iPad all day, and how is Ernest Shepard now friends with 8 new girls on Facebook everyday? Beats me.

Now I've said my intro too many times to actually mean it. But if I was to talk about being involved with NSO, it makes total sense. It was definitely "a great way to polish [my] interpersonal skills." And although all of us came from such different backgrounds, it was also a chance for me "to meet people that share [my] interests." And I've definitely made friends that will "last [me] a lifetime." The intro is hackneyed, dear freshmen, but true. NSOlove.

KU's 2011-2012 Orientation Assistants and Orientation Coordinators

All the beautiful people at prom. July '2011.

My Country, Surrounded by Myths

In my conversations with all the curious, ill-informed people I meet, the surprising part is all the myths that exist about Pakistan. There is a striking similarity to people's concerns for this strategically located, small in size, yet always making-the-headlines state in the subcontinent. Below is my attempt to debunk some of the most popular myths about my country that I encounter all the time.

All Pakistani women wear the hijab.
There is no one way to describe the dress of Pakistani women. Walk down the street and you can see everything from capri pants to niqabs, from sleeveless tops to abayas. There is no law dictating what women should wear. Pakistani women go to school, college, and university with men and compete in equal roles with the opposite sex at the workplace. They practice the religious and legal right to marry anyone they like - when they ask for the family's approval, it is out of love and respect for them, not an obligation. Even when they aren't the primary bread winner for the family, they often are the policy makers of the household. They are pilots in the Pakistani Air Force, judges in the High Court, lawyers, journalists, doctors, scientists, actors, musicians, writers, and sportswomen. Pakistan elected its first female Head of State in 1988 - a feat not many "developed" countries have accomplished even to date.

Pakistan is in the Middle East.
Because Pakistan is in the Middle East, everything that holds true of the Middle Eastern countries applies to Pakistan. First to clarify, Pakistan is not a part of the Middle East. It is a part of South Asia. Pakistanis are not Arabs, they are South Asians. Pakistanis don't speak Arabic, the national language of Pakistan is Urdu. Pakistanis vote in elections. Pakistan's very free media can bash the government if it wants to. Pakistan has mountains, forests, deserts, beaches. It snows in Pakistan, too.

U.S. aid is running Pakistan.
Seems like people think that America is feeding the poor of Pakistan. Even though the U.S. has given $1 billion per year to Pakistan since 2001, the aid is directed towards the military to fight the War on Terrorism and not civilians. Even then this supposed aid is outweighed by economic losses from terrorism and insurgency. Pakistan’s government estimates that these losses were more than $18 billion in 2010 alone. So Pakistan may as well be better off without America's aid. Pakistani officials also believe that Pakistan's bff, China, could match America's aid if asked. The U.S. is in no position to play around here. If Pakistan does not allow supply routes for U.S. and NATO forces to run through Pakistan, the U.S. would have to send supplies across Central Asia and make major concessions to Russia.

Pakistanis are deeply religious and, by default, supporters of the Taliban and Al-Qaeda.
Religious parties have never won more than a fraction of popular vote. Last year Pakistan witnessed the largest civil rights movement in the history of this region. It was spontaneous, secular and entirely peaceful. But since people weren’t raising anti-America slogans, nobody outside Pakistan took much notice. The masses do not favor the Taliban and do no want an Islamist revolution. And, no matter what people think, Pakistan's military has proved — by launching counteroffensives that cleared the Taliban from the Swat Valley and other areas — that it can defeat Islamist insurgency.

Pakistani nukes can fall into the hands of terrorists.
Pakistan's nuclear program is under a sophisticated command and control system, no more under threat than India or Israel’s nuclear assets are threatened by Hindu or Jewish extremists. If Pakistanis can make nuclear bombs, they can also protect them. If the world is so concerned about world peace, they better be cracking down on other countries with nuclear arms, too.

So, believe the rumors, if you will. But always know there are two sides of a story. And FOX provides only one side. That's right.

Ignorance is bliss.

Don't get me wrong. America is awesome. And what better time to talk about its greatness than today. I am grateful to this country for all the opportunities it has given me. I'm grateful for the education, the friends, the love of my life. When someone called it the Land of Opportunities, they knew what they were talking about. It is here where I've had my fair share of firsts: first paycheck, first car, first snow, first basketball game, first monster truck show, first attempt at cooking. This country has a lot to offer and one thing abundant in this country: ignorance. I've had some really interesting encounters with some really ... let's just say curious ... people in almost 4 years here. I've had the randomest people come up to me and ask the randomest questions. Not helping this is the fact that my foreign-ness can be spotted from very far away, that I have an accent, that I live in a very white state and go to a very white school. Here are some of the most memorable conversations:

• Person: "So..Pakistanis are Arabs, right?"
  Me: "No."
  Person: "THEN WHAT ARE THEY?"

• Person: "You're Sikh right?"
  [Me: Never thought I would be asked this. Thought the sign on my head said what faith I followed.]

• Person: "Well I don't know if you're a practicing Muslim."
  [Me: Thought the thing on my head was pretty self-explanatory.]

• Person: "So do you have an arranged marriage?"
  [Me: Yes, and I also have a child marriage, FGM, honor killing, *insert all other stereotypes*]

• Random lady at Statue of Liberty: "ARE YOU FROM EGYPT?"
  
• Person: "Can you marry anyone you like?"
  [Me: "No my husband was chosen for me when I was born. He's waiting for me in Pakistan.]

• Person: "Have you ever been to Bag-dad?"
  [Me: "You mean Baghdad?"]
  Person: "Have you ever been anywhere in Eye-rack?"
  [Me: "You mean Iraq?"]
  Person: "Yeah I wouldn't wanna go to Bag-dad myself."
  [Me: "You know they were doing just fine before you started bombing them."]
  Person: "Have you ever met a Taliban?"
  [Me: "They don't walk around saying they are Taliban, you know?"]
  Person: "What about someone from Al-Qaeda?"
  Me: *walks off*

• Person: "Pakistan is in India right?"

• Person: "Could you speak English before you came here?"

• Person: "Do you speak another language? What is it called?"
  Me: "Urdu."
  Person: "So do most people in the Middle East speak Urdu?"

• Person: "So do you wear this (points to own head) at home too?"

• Person: "So you are from Pakistan originally?"
  Me: "Yes."
  Person: "Yeah I visited India last year."

• Person: "Do they teach you how to wrap this?" *points to her head*
  [Me: "THEY didn't have to. I was born with this attached to my head."]

• Random person on Mass. St. playing some instrument as I walk out of Signs of Life: "Assalam Alaikum! Shukran shukran for having coffee at a Christan place and doing good things and making this world a better place."
  Me: *speechless*
  Person: "Have you ever been to XYZ church?"
  Me: "No."
  Person: "My mom teaches ESL there to Middle Eastern immigrants. You should go."
  [Me: Pretty sure I'm not Middle Eastern. Pretty sure my English is better than yours and I don't need those classes.]

• Person: "Wow! If you hadn't told me, I would've never guessed English wasn't your first language. You don't have an accent at all!"
  [Me: Wow! You're not a big fat liar at all!]

• 3 months in the US of A and person asks: "Did you learn English in America?"
  [Me: Yup! Because it is totally possible to be speaking a language in 3 months.]

Of course, this list will grow as I spend more time here and I'll be adding to it. I'm just asking people to slow down a little on the judgments and the assumptions. If people want to base their opinions about me on what they see on FOX, then I'm going to be basing my generalizations on Hollywood, too. According to Sex and the City, there are skyscrapers everywhere, everyone rides in limos driven by chauffeurs, skinny bitches walk the town in five inch heels, and sleep around. Hollywood didn't prepare me for cows and haystacks, you know? So I am terribly disappointed. Till then, let's go and watch some fireworks. God Bless your Ignorance. 

archi...torture?

The associate dean of my school was at my work the other day and after he had embarrassed me much in front everyone by saying one of his "wonderful students" was in the room (I love him to bits!), there were questions from everyone asking me if studio really was as bad as he made it sound. "There's a different world out there in Marvin Hall," he said. There is no doubt that we are a cult. We do things or say stuff that makes no sense to others but is absolutely normal within the architecture circle. For all the times my oddities have made people around me roll their eyes, I put together this list of "You know you're an architecture student when..." :

• ... you go to an art museum and take pictures of the building.

• ... you have more photos of buildings and models than people. Thus, you have a folder like this on your computer:

• ... you find yourself waking up on the wrong side of your drafting table.

• ... you know what FLW stands for.

• ... you know, off the top of your head, the dimensions of letter, ledger, and tabloid sheets. 

• ... you are changing and there are drafting dots stuck to your shirt and jeans. 

• ... people ask your plans for a holiday and you tell them holidays just mean more time to sleep.

• ... people talk about the Guggenheim and you ask "which one?"

• ... you can't think in studio; studio is for work-work. Epiphanies happen at the randomest of times, thus, the ubiquitous napkin sketch.

• ... you know what campus looks like at 4 in the morning.

• ... it is perfectly normal to possess more than 5 rulers.

• ... you are most productive under adrenaline-fueled-panic mode. 

• ... you have thought about how you could have survived better in architecture school if you were a vampire at some point of time: they don't sleep, don't eat, and don't bleed. 

• ... you talk about fenestration.

• ... you know you are not likely to be earning a lot when you graduate, yet find yourself spending mindlessly on studio supplies.

• ... you think it is perfectly normal to take notes with a drafting pen at lectures.

•  ... sleep deprivation torture doesn't work on you.

• ... your professor thinks Frank Gehry had a little too much to drink.

• ... you see the word "bass", you immediately think wood. Not music, not fish. 

• ... you've seen movies in studio, you've laughed your ass off about something not funny, you've sprayed your drawings with hair spray, you've lost stuff in the mess that is your desk. When you've gotten 3 hours of sleep, everything is funny.

• ... you want to toss your model in the trash as soon as review is over. You can't stand the sight of it after working on it for weeks. 

• ... score isn't to get a girl. Or to do well on a test. 

• ... you're tired of hearing things like: "missed opportunity", "has potential", "feels unresolved", and everything cliched the reviewers like to say.

• ... you know that Murphy's Law applies not only to butter on toast, but glue on chipboard/wood too.

• ... coffee runs in your veins.

• ... you have a playlist for studio.

• ... model = project. Not Adriana Lima.

• ... you've had the architect-engineer argument more than once. Your professors have dissed engineers more than once. 

• ... you ask for studio supplies as birthday presents.

• ... regardless of how much torture, you go back every day because it's what you love and there's nothing else you would rather do! :)

After Osama

     U.S. agents killed Osama bin Laden in Pakistan. The al-Qaeda leader was responsible for great suffering; I do not mourn his death. But I do not celebrate it, either. I am worried about my country's security now, more than ever. Dread lingers over me: Pakistan may have to pay the price for this.

    Crowds justifiably celebrated bin Laden's death in downtown Manhattan, where a decade ago al-Qaida terrorists massacred nearly 3,000 Americans. The statistic that many people do not know is that since the subsequent US invasion of Afghanistan, terrorists have killed nearly five times that number of people in Pakistan. Five times. Before 2002, suicide bombing was a word unknown to Pakistanis. Now, suicide attacks by Taliban/al-Qaeda, have slaughtered over 34,000 Pakistani civilians, policemen and army personnel. The annual number of Pakistani fatalities from terrorism has surged from less than 200 in 2003 to more than 3,000 in 2009. Every day, Pakistanis are targets for bombs, bullets, cannons, and drones. Bin Laden declared war on Pakistan, too.

    Despite all of that, CNN was having a field day yesterday (I didn't even bother watching FOX). Their target: Pakistan. The crux of every conversation was Pakistan's supposed support for al-Qaeda and the likes. All of this may make for great rhetoric but makes no sense when one asks why Pakistan would care about the group that has killed thousands of Pakistanis and destroyed all kinds of infrastructure and investment? We were the world's second fastest growing economy in 2005 (China was first). Now, our economy is in the dumps. Are we really going to bring this upon ourselves? And yes, Osama was found in Abbotabad, but who is to say he stayed in one location. For ten years? Please. We also know that this operation wouldn't have been possible without the support of Pakistani forces. We are not the perpetrator, we are the ally and the victim.

     Pakistan is not a country that accommodates and hides mass murderers. Pakistanis just want to be left alone and go back to the time when their lives were plain regular: tranquil. If Osama bin Laden's death means that America can begin to withdraw its forces from Pakistan and Afghanistan and that we can somehow rediscover peace, then one day Pakistanis are going to celebrate, too. But till the continued al-Qaeda/Taliban operations all around the world, mass murder of innocent civilians in my country and elsewhere, the norm of racial profiling of American-Muslims, human right injustices in Abu Ghraib and Guantanamo Bay and all such heinous acts are not put to end, I do not have a reason to celebrate.

Born Identity

     So Donald Trump, after tending to his comb over, emerged from his helicopter in New Hampshire yesterday to pronounce that he was "proud" and "honored" to "have been able to get" the president to release his birth certificate. No surprises there. Trump is ever so proud of himself: he is rich, arrogant, has a hot wife half his age, "You're fired!" is his catchphrase. As for the honored part, he's already made sure of that. His name adorns - or defaces - hotels, golf courses and condos across the nation. The one place we can be sure it will never be is where he aspires to show it off - on the door of the Oval Office: 64% Americans in a Gallup poll say they just wouldn't vote for The Donald, period. Despite his dollars, this makes sense: why would Americans entrust the future of the economy to a person whose branded properties have had a history of corporate bankruptcy?

     Last month, Trump declared, "I have a great relationship with the blacks. I've always had a great relationship with the blacks." But his new baseless accusation that Obama should not have been admitted to the Ivy Leagues sounded nothing but racist. You weren't president of the Harvard Law Review, were you now, Trump? In fact, what needs to be questioned is that who admitted this dumb ass to Wharton? Daddy's connections came in handy, I suppose. He continues to bash China and Chinese products (calling them "crap") when some of the garments in the Donald J. Trump Signature Collection are, according to their labels, "Made in China." Full of ironies, this man.
 
     Even though the birth certificate being released does not mean an end to the whole birther conspiracy, it for sure has allowed the media to entertain us in the form of the Trump freak show. The royal wedding hoopla was starting to get a little boring now. Prince William needs a comb over, too. 

Brewing up controversy, literally.

I am a fan of Greg Mortenson's and that is why my inbox and my Facebook wall were flooded with emails and posts last week about the fall of my hero. Three words: I don't care.

The journalists I know won't be happy when I say that you don't believe everything that these journalists say. You use your head. Similarly, you don't believe everything you read. When you read any non-fiction book, say a biography, you know not all of it is going to be true. It has been written so that it makes for a nice story, makes you cry, or laugh. So that it inspires you. You use your head. On the same note, you treat people like people. The minute you want to worship a man like a god is the minute you are going to be disappointed. We are not infallible, that is exactly why we are humans.

The 60 Minutes piece about Greg Mortenson is a powerful example of how cleaver editing and storytelling with a bias can damage the reputation and the work of a good man. And although it may have theatrical and visual impact, it does little where truth is concerned. 

Anyone who reads and researches knows that Greg Mortenson has denied all of these accusations. He and his board have answered all of the questions with reasonable and plausible answers. At least $20 million is in a trust fund to carry on his work. The CAI board asked its lawyer to review its financial practices before 60 Minutes began work on their story. The review found nothing to be illegal or unethical. In fact, it discovered benefits to the Central Asia Institute that far exceeded the benefits to Greg Mortenson. His fundraising supports school construction and educational campaigns. Concerning his speaking engagements, he is doing what any writer would do: he is making good use of the limited window any author has to engage audiences, sell his book, create awareness of his mission and raise funds for the work he is doing.

This unfortunate story masquerading as objective journalism will make Greg Mortenson’s work much more difficult, but I believe he will prevail. He will continue to build schools, and those of us who believe in his important work will continue to support him.

On a lighter note, here is a song that is stuck in my head these days. Coincidentally, it is about the place Mortenson fell in love with. I mean, who wouldn't? "He who comes here once, leaves his heart behind."

One School at a Time

I was having the longest and the crappiest day of my life when one man brought a smile to my face. This man was Greg Mortenson.

I had the honor of meeting this man whose fan I had become after reading his book, Three Cups of Tea. He received the Sitara-e-Pakistan ("Star of Pakistan"), Pakistan's highest civil award in 2009. He looks older now. He has started to lose some hair. There's somewhat of a tummy. He greeted me with an assalam alaikum and said khuda hafiz when I was leaving. He told me the book was ready to be published in Urdu and Pushto very soon. He said higher education was becoming more important in Pakistan. He asked me what I was studying (after he asked me if I was a teacher and I had to tell him I was actually a student!). He's soft spoken, funny, listens to you with utmost humility, and is passionate about what he does - everything I had imagined of him when I read the book.

Time and again I have bashed American and Pakistani governments for being insensitive and selfish. And here comes a man who shows me that there are still good people left in the world who would go out of their way to do something for others, in the most selfless manner. He is the American who is working day and night for a better tomorrow of children half the world across from home for him. He goes to places where few foreigners dare to go - places often considered to be the front lines of the War on Terror. And he works with the most basic ideas: let your children go out and play, sit with your elders and listen to their stories, educate the women (because "when you educate a boy, you educate an individual but when you educate a girl, you educate the community"), instead of bombing people, get to know them, understand them, build their trust. He says that hatred in the world comes from ignorance, that education needs to be America's top national and international priority - especially education for girls. "Ignorance is the enemy," he says.

Not only does Mortenson speak from the heart, he makes me look at my country in a way I had never seen it before. Parts of Pakistan I've never visited are heaven on earth, he says. I am in awe of the poor and illiterate men of Pakistan's most impoverished areas that are the champions of girls' education in their villages. When the men from Mullah Omar's village come to him, asking him to build a girls' school in their village, Mortenson finds them playing on the swings of a playground. I finally think of these bearded men in turbans as humans, people who never saw a childhood in a country ridden in war. Mortenson learns that everything is discussed over chai in Pakistan, that relationships are build over a steaming hot cup of this special tea, that family is crucial in my culture. In the words of Korphe's nurmadhar Haji Ali (who was also Mortenson's mentor),

"The first time you share tea with a Balti, you are a stranger. The second time you take tea, you are honored guest. The third time you share a cup of tea, you become family, and for our family, we are prepared to do anything, even die."

Thus, Mortenson's lecture was enlightening, invigorating to say the least. The reality he presents is gruesome but he shares hope, nonetheless, that something can be done and is being done. Pakistanis and Americans have a lot to learn from him. He is a reminder of the power of one man's determination in the face of gigantic obstacles. This is one man's mission to promote peace - one school at a time. This man clearly deserves to be called a hero.

Mortenson lectures at the Lied Center on KU Campus. Photo by Artem Bagiev.

He signed my copy of Three Cups of Tea!

To the Men in Green - with Love.

I made the mistake of posting a couple of Facebook statuses about the match and people went into a tirade about the failures of the team. It felt like it wasn't 11 men playing a sport but our soldiers going into war with India. Give me a freakin' break, guys.

I've often mentioned on my blog how Pakistanis get all worked up when it comes to religion - well, there's one more thing that makes them that emotional - cricket. Cricket is religion in Pakistan. Cricket is also what brings all Pakistanis together. Support for a certain player has nothing to do with what part of the country he's from, but how well he plays his sport. I started waiting for 2011 years ago because that was the year we were going to host the World Cup.

So yes, 180 million hearts were broken when we were denied hosting rights, when two of our top bowlers were banned, when we lost the semi-final. Yes, it would have been easy to console ourselves had our team played like it was actually playing a big game, just the way it had performed all through the tournament. The heartache could've been a little more bearable had we seen our team strategize, field better, not given Umar Gul those overs, taken the powerplay earlier. But in retrospect, there's more reasons to celebrate than to be sad about. It's true I didn't watch the group matches because I wasn't expecting much from this team. But look where we got? We ended Australia's unbeaten run to reach the semis. The young team played some great cricket. Afridi became the highest wicket taker of the tournament. It was after a long time we saw Pakistan playing positive - there was no politics and the team was united under one captain. The stark reality is that lady luck was smiling upon Tendulkar that day and ignoring poor Gul. The stark reality also is that the match gave us many sleepless nights and got us excited and gave us something to look forward to. It is heartening to see that people are praising the team even after the loss. This shows that we are not that fickle after all. This shows our love for this game and our patriotism for this country. This shows we are one nation, after all.

Like I've said before, Afridi need not apologize. We love this team and we are so proud.

Green for life.

The Vitruvian Pathan by Komail Naqvi

Reasons to Celebrate

What better way to celebrate the Lahore Resolution of 1940 than our team reaching the semis of the Cricket World Cup. It was a great match and the team did us so proud. Other than that, the love of my life isn't giving me many reasons to celebrate these days. Pardon my pessimism but I can't really be happy when my country's civilians and soldiers die everyday fighting America's war at our northwestern border or when dozens are gunned down as political parties battle it out in my city.

The Pakistan I grew up in celebrated Pakistan Day with an impressive military parade at Constitution Avenue. And those of us who didn't live in the capital would wake up early morning to watch it on t.v. Thanks to the volatile law and order situation, we’ve been skipping the display of our military might for the past few years. Cricket meant walking to National Stadium in our green and white shalwar kameezes to watch our heroes in front of our eyes. And although it's great that the country can come together to celebrate the team's awesome performances on foreign soils, it's been years since Pakistan's cricket stadiums echoed with screams of "Jeetayga bhayee jeetayga, Pakistan jeetayga!" I grew up playing badminton on the streets with the boys, riding my bike in shorts. The scars on my knees are proof of the bruises that Karachi's roads gave me. Getting front seats to a Junoon concert was the biggest achievement. Sonu Nigam and Bryan Adams would perform to a sold-out crowd. Eight people would cram in one car to go have ice-cream in Bahadurabad. There was no moral brigade issuing fatwas every other day.

I wonder when, on March 23rd 1940, the Muslims of India proclaimed to the world their determination to make the Muslim Statehood the goal of their struggle, they had this Pakistan in mind. Needless to say, the present circumstances do not lessen my love for this amazing country. Where, when I visit after two years, the aunty on my street is going to cook me my favorite food and send it over. Where the neighborhood fruit vendor will say salam and ask about everyone. Where the press is free and vibrant - a very rare occurrence for an Islamic State. Where we can end Australia's unbeaten 34-match World Cup run.

I have no doubt the days of a packed National Stadium, concerts, and the parade on March 23rd will return. Happy Pakistan Day everyone!

Speak Up!

We protested. We wrote blogs. We wrote in the papers. We demonstrated in rallies on the streets. But our voices fell on deaf ears. I guess our measly third-world cries mean nothing.

Shumaila Kanwal knew what would happen better than us. The wife of the man shot and killed by C.I.A. contractor Raymond Davis committed suicide by eating rat poison, explaining before she died that she was driven to act by fears the American would be freed without trial. She was right. But what's all the uproar for? I mean Davis killed two Pakistanis. A missile attack by a C.I.A. drone killed at least 40 people in North Waziristan on Thursday. The C.I.A. has carried out more than a hundred drone strikes against militant groups in Pakistan’s tribal territories over the past year in which scores of my country's civilians have been killed - women and children and old people - and entire villages have been wiped out. Civilians are callously targeted without any regard for human life. These attacks are nothing but counterproductive in the battle against terrorism.

But all that does not mean we can just sit with our arms crossed and become a part of the circus. We will continue protesting. U.S. drones will have to stop bombing my country's civilians and its spies will not get away with shooting my country's people. Faiz Ahmed Faiz says,

"Speak up, while your lips are free
Speak up, your tongue is still yours
Speak, for your strong body is your own
Speak, your soul is still yours
Look at the blacksmith's shop
Hot flames make the iron red hot
Opening the locks
Every chain opens up and begins to break
Speak, for this brief time is long enough
Before your body and words die
Speak, for the truth still prevails
Speak up, say what you must."

McCarthyism 2.0

Yes, I will go that far. I will call this another McCarthy era. Because if it isn't just that, then what is it? Here we are aggressively questioning a religion's patriotism, making poorly supported accusations, using accusations of disloyalty to pressure a religion's followers to adhere to conformist politics. If it isn't a witch hunt, then what is it? Is it not an attempt to cause moral panic?

How do you expect me to take these "Muslim radicalization" hearings seriously? The great champion of the threat is Republican Peter King. In the past, King supported a different kind of terrorist organization — the Irish Republican Army. He pledged to support the "brave men and women" of the IRA as they "struggle against British imperialism in the streets of Belfast and Derry." His explanation? Well, the IRA never attacked the U.S - only British civilians, a distinction which, in King’s moral universe, makes his support acceptable. I mean, it's true that the IRA never attacked the U.S., but neither have Hamas, Hezbollah or the Muslim Brotherhood. Does King have the same sentiment for them? I doubt it.


King's problem with the Muslim-Americans is that they are not doing enough to stop terrorism in the country. But really, what ethnic group in America is doing enough to safeguard the nation from terrorism? Once again the Republicans have bamboozled their gullible constituents, by claiming that jobs were going to be their priority - but the minute they get into office, they start chasing ghosts. They have yet to create a single job because they are too busy with creating Islamophobia and tax cuts for their corporate masters.

The Southern Poverty Law Center counted 1,002 active hate groups in the United States in 2010: Ku Klux Klan, neo-Nazi, white nationalist, racist skinhead, Christian identity and so on. These people are not members of the “Muslim community.” The more pertinent question to be asked and answered is: will King hold hearings to examine these groups' threats to America's security too?


[Totally worth watching is Jon Stewart's take on King . Also for your entertainment, a cartoon from THE WEEK.]

Remember our Raymond Davis, Washington?

In a new twist of events, Raymond Davis has been revealed to be a part of a covert, C.I.A.-led team collecting intelligence and conducting surveillance on militant groups deep inside Pakistan. He has worked for years as a C.I.A. contractor, including time at Blackwater, now Xe, that is viewed by many Pakistanis as symbolizing a culture of American gun-slinging overseas. 

Since the United States is not at war in Pakistan, the American military is largely restricted from operating in the country. So the C.I.A. has taken on an expanded role, operating armed drones that kill militants inside the country and running covert operations, sometimes without the knowledge of the Pakistanis.

Davis carried an American diplomatic passport and was listed as “administrative and technical staff,” a category that would grant him diplomatic immunity. But with Pakistan’s government trying to clamp down on the increasing flow of C.I.A. agents trying to gain entry into the country, more of these operatives have been granted “cover” as embassy employees and given diplomatic passports.

President Barack Obama has demanded the release of Raymond Davis, but the Pakistan government has insisted the matter will be decided by the courts.

In the absence of any deal, the Pakistan government reportedly sought a way out of the stand-off by offering to trade his release for that of Dr Aafiya Siddiqui, a US-trained neuro-scientist currently serving an 86 year sentence for the attempted murder of an American soldier in Afghanistan. Her supporters claim she was illegally detained by American intelligence agents in Pakistan and held in a number of secret jails in Afghanistan before the shooting incident. Her three children were taken into custody with her, when the youngest one was still an infant. Two of her children went missing for a longtime. Many believe 86 years in prison for attempted murder to be outrageous - especially with the lack of evidence in Siddiqui's case.

It's funny how the U.S. government is suddenly so pro-active in pressurizing the Pakistani administration to release an American who killed two Pakistanis in broad daylight. The scenario was totally opposite with a detained Pakistani a few months ago. Davis or Siddiqui, American or Pakistani. Justice needs to be served. Superpowers need  to stop bending the rules for themselves. No one can be allowed to take law into their hands.