My heart is broken

While writing these series about my visit to Pakistan, I had a huge revelation today...

That we are truly blessed. All of us. All of us who have not lost a child or a loved one. If you have a son or daughter, tell them how much you love them. Tell your parents and grandparents before you lose your chance to say so. Your wife or husband that you take for so granted... spare a moment, and tell them how special they are.

Why, you ask. Usually, during working, I sometimes listen to FM 103.1 on the net live from Pakistan. I like it since it gives me a glimpse into the city I love, Karachi from thousands of miles away here in Toronto, Canada. I usually listen to DJ Cresella, followed by Sahir Lodhi, and then "Abu Rashid and Billo Bhai" show. The topic of the show was whether it is better to stay silent or speak up during different facets and events of everyday life... whether it's being hassled by a police officer in Pakistan or speaking against the corrupt practices of the elected leaders. A woman (whose name I forgot) came on the air, and conveyed her story where she, and a family, with their 6 year old son were on the terrace of their home waiting for the "Eid Chaand" to show, when a stray bullet from "hawaii fayar" hit the head of their 6 year old son, and he died on the spot. The mother was already a widow. She emphatically told the story how even despite repeated warnings by the elected nazim, the hooligans did not listen. She then sobbed. And cried. And poured her heart out. The son was the only child of this widow... This caller kept on insisting that who is to blame and that she needs the moral support of all Pakistanis... imagine how devastated the mother is. Just because someone thought that it's macho to fire bullets in the air... this 6 year old boy did not have to die... he did not have to die. Not like this.

Pakistanis, we need to stand up... and remove these illiterate and irresponsible acts from our index and spectrum of acceptable and tolerated actions. We should collect all personal firearms in Pakistan and send them to our steel mills so that we can build more schools and hospitals.

It is almost 12 hours now. I still cannot forget the cries of the caller. My heart is broken... my countrymen will disappoint me if these actions will go unchecked.

Work in Pakistan

It was truly a king's life in Karachi. Granted, my family is mashallah doing well, we have a great bungalow, and it was wedding season (my brother was getting married in July). Nawaz, our 16 year old Pathan, was our errand boy. He would wash dishes, make the most wonderful mint tea, fry the occasional samosas for the hunger pangs, and clean the car. I was, rather admittedly, very happy when he would pick up my messenger/laptop bag and put it in the back of the car every morning. Compared to the self-made toast and coffee is a styrofoam cup rushing to the subway station in Canada, I was in a completely different league!

Being a workaholic, I actively "hunt" for work. Most work that satisfies me is long-term strategy, analysis, cost-benefit analysis, consumer behavior modeling, marketing, etc. I am also a news junkie. My Blackberry automatically suggests me news based on certain keywords, my top 5 favourite websites are all political / news websites, and I thrive on information. When I was in Pakistan, I obviously started to go with my father, to his manufacturing business in Korangi Industrial Area. The first day was awesome, meeting people, socializing, sitting and eating with the labour workforce, and generally making observations. The next day, I had understood 2 major things:

- life in the daily life of a Pakistani businessman is tough: forget long-term strategy... instead of planning for long-term growth and management, he needs to be more obsessed with what his people are doing and actively managing them (McGregor's Theory X workforce).

- people do not, will not, and shall not, give their frank and true opinions in front of the boss (is it day, yes --- is it night, yes). I don't think it is a "yes, sir" mentality.. it is rather a mix of individualistic inferiority, combined with a strong feeling of "what if I'm wrong", and "I will seem stupid." Just like here in Canada and USA, sometimes it's also the "I need this job" mantra that deviates them from giving their opinions ... and hence not contributing to real growth, for everybody.

These may or may not be true for multinationals or large corporations but for SMEs, this certainly is the case.

More friends than on Facebook

Karachi...The City of Lights... beautiful at night, misty in the morning, always pungent with the smell of grass, dust, soot, and "chambelis" (flowers). After meeting five thousand, eight hundred and sixty seven people that I barely knew, I was finally in Pakistan!

Food and Family Galore!

Note: It's been a while since I wrote but I'll continue the story...

So, I was home. In Karachi. The first thing I notice in the background are the golden arches of McDonald's. Ironic, I thought, for a country which is so split on Americans interfering with their way of life.

My sweet, sweet mother was rushing towards me while my dad was walking towards me with a bottle of Apple Sidra. Apple Sidra, for folks who have not visited Pakistan, is an apple and soda cocktail that I've loved since I was a kid.

After we exchanged hugs and warded off the constant porters offering to carry the bags to our car for "$10 only", we left for the parking lot. Aaah, let's get a piping hot samosa before we do that. Apple Sidra and samosas -- kya combination hai!

When I reached home, I was flooded with hugs and exchanges from practically every family member that I knew including new little ones, and older ones (who had got married into our extended, large family).

Mom's cooking -- wah, wah! Cutlets, broast chicken, mini pizza pies, karhai, and so on... let me tell you what happens when a guy who has a green salad for lunch with no dressing eats something like this.... it's a mini nuclear explosion in the stomach. If the American Army was here, they would accuse me of being a WMD myself! I was ready to explode!

We (my wife and kid) settled into my old room -- yes, my parents have still kept it intact as it was when I left after doing my A'Levels. And I slept. Like a baby. Nighty-night.

My Summer 2009 Trip to Pakistan - Part 2

So finally, when I got out, I was "carried" over by the eager and joyous NRPs (Non-Resident Pakistanis) into the immigration area. An official-looking mid-30s man was scanning the line up and down. Overheard: "Aap Canada sey aarahay hai? Stamp lagana hai?" Translation: "You can walk onto Pakistani soil without getting an arrival stamp." Good for getting a speedier Canadian citizenship qualification. After standing in the long, yet surprisingly fast line at the immigration counter, a small crowd gathered around a glass partition which opened into the baggage area. The 2 or 3 men at that checkpoint scanned the passports and motioned to go forward. I picked up my bags eventually to be greeted by my parents, a blow of hot, humid air, and more people in one place than I've seen in a while. I was home!

My Summer 2009 Trip to Pakistan - Part 1

It was a trip planned 8 months in advance. My son was turning One on July 4 and my parents wanted to be with their first grandchild at all costs. Since they could not come to Canada, we decided to celebrate our son's birthday in my birthcity, Karachi.

My wife left a month earlier while I followed her on July 1. Of course my parents and sister were escstatic to meet me. We flew direct from Toronto to Karachi via PIA. I've noticed that we Pakistanis will travel 5000 miles by a bailghari but will complain when it's something to do with PIA or Pakistan. Yes, the airline has it's share of problems but more than 90% of them are due to us, not the airline. Case in point: overflowing bathrooms, a mad rush to get in and out, no queues or lines, etc.

The food was great but plentiful. The service was good but too diabeticly sweet. The airline left on time but arrived early! Like I said, mad rush to get in and out...

My first post...

It has been several years that I have contemplated writing my very own blog. First it was school, then university, then work, then wife and now a kid. However as life passes by, I feel the passion that I have for writing my thoughts (exhibited by the fact that I kept a diary in my yesteryears) would have a home here.

Stay tuned in. There's lots to discuss...