Sunday, 17 November 2024

Embrace or Rupture We Choose




'Will you through you, help be the seed that is sown to bridge the superficial distinction that divides communities in Us and Them?' I wrote this statement 13 years back in a letter addressed to my niece in the year of her birth, who is an Indian because of her mother, a Pakistani because of her father, and a Canadian because of her place of birth. 

13 years onward, the world has come closer with the use of high speed gadgets and increased travel. I ask to myself, has more information and connectivity brought Indians and Pakistanis closer, or has that further helped in garnering abridged facts that sustain divisions? 

Certainly the world of Us and Them is not behind us, in fact it has only perpetuated further as we see a genocide unfolding in front of our eyes. Is there something for us to learn as Pakistani's and Indian's from what we see can happen, when we hug narratives that were built to protect us actually destroy us? 

I was in India when I wrote the letter to my niece. The first Pakistani student to study at the Tata Institute of Social Sciences in Mumbai. Identities are both rigid as a rock and fluid as water, I reckoned. Some of my peers confused me as a resident of Ranchi, when I said Karachi - only because the embedded narrative they withheld made it almost inconceivable for someone to travel mere 883 Km to study. And then when the word Karachi was repeated, the glass broke! I call it a glass because the stereotypes were so elevated but they had no weight to hold them. I received emphatic hugs from so many of my peers, followed by questions they didn't seek a response to: 'Oh, you look so similar. Oh, how come you speak Hindi! (to which I reciprocated - may be you are speaking Urdu :)), etc etc'. While the solid part of my identity was a constant reminder by the State - I was frequently asked to report to the local police station - on an occasion also sarcastically inquired 'so do you know Ajmal Kasab, given you and him are both from Karachi?' And then came the fluid part of my identity, where often it was forgotten that I am a so-called stranger in this alien land. As a student of social work, across two years, I worked in the Cheeta Camp engaging with the youth and elderly; helped become a bridge for de-notified tribes, who in the colonial era were notified as 'born criminals', using my student identity to help them converse with the local officials in receiving identity cards; assisting probation officers in the Byculla Observation Home, commonly known as 'Bachon Ka Jail'; or curating dance workshops for the senior citizens at the Dignity Foundation. My identity as a student outweighed the Pakistani identity and helped me relate with common challenges that Pakistan and India experience at people level. 

I have been curious to understand, where do narratives come from and why do we strongly associate with one or the other. Majority Pakistanis and Indians have never met each other, yet hold strong, often despicable views. In the absence of personal experience, we often uphold the views we are brought up with because those give us security and a collective identity within our community. There is no secret that the consent of Indians and Pakistanis to despise each other has been consciously manufactured by both States and through the medium of media, education and political practice. One can dwell upon volumes of reasons why this has happened and how each State is justified or helpless in their position. However the end result continues to create further unrest and disharmony, and fails to challenge the premise that we, because of our integrated connection over a millennia are more similar than different. And as many Pakistanis and Indians continue to experience, like myself, when we meet and engage in a space of relative trust, the glass of misunderstanding and distrust falls into pieces rather instantly. So the question for the future is, how do we create more and more spaces of dialogue and engagement for more and more Indians and Pakistanis. 

The hope lies in nature and in our choice in responding to the change! Fortunately who is a Pakistani and who is an Indian is also a fluid identity. We are mortal beings, and as we grow older our association with the role we play and the hurt we have experienced because of certain events in the past, changes in its intensity. The horrors of partition do not mean the same to one who lived through it, to the youth, and to those who will be born, not by choice, as a Pakistani or an Indian. This is the same reason why the institution of state tries to ensure that certain events and views are perpetually reinforced and imprinted in the minds of every subject regardless of their age and exposure. Thus the element of choice becomes absolutely critical - the hate and distrust we have garnered between India and Pakistan over the past 77 years - whether we would like to imprint this into an institutional memory as a recurrent phenomenon, or consciously curate enabling conditions socially, economically and politically to break the glass of distrust, and build the flower of embracing each others strengths and our collective fate as neighbours.

Three realities coincide in helping us make a wise choice. First, the institution of state no more holds a monopoly over the means through which narrative is developed and communicated. Youth today, both in India and Pakistan are developing a relationship with cross-culture arts, music, drama and films in an unprecedented way. While social media has also become a place where existing stereotypes are sustained and misinformation is spread, there is an opportunity to use media as an alternate means of education, engagement and dialogue, especially among the youth to increase familiarity. As an educator working with school networks both in India and Pakistan, I have reckoned the enormous wealth of untapped experience and wisdom we hold collectively to address the social challenges in front of us. I believe similarity of our context along with open exchange of dialogue across individuals and communities within Pakistan and India is a great opportunity to rebuild constructive relationship between the two countries.   

Second, the environment is crying out the reality that borders are a human construct. Our interdependence is not a choice but a necessity both for our existence and for those who will make this land their home in the future. Growing suffocation in Delhi and Lahore because of air pollution is only one of the examples we are to face during our destined future together, and our socio-political animosity and trade barriers continue to worsen the situation at hand. It is not the lack of technical solutions that poses a limitation here - the challenge at hand is purely adaptive and requires both strengthened will and non-partisan collaboration. 

Third, in its current form of nation-states, both Pakistan and India are almost as old as an individual's life. However the geography that makes this land, and the people and culture that resonates the vibrant character the two countries uphold is much older and richer. As a result, it wouldn't be incorrect to say that we who hold the power and influence in this land are bestowed with both a gift and a responsibility. Are we, to the best of our capacity, playing our role in ensuring this gift is enjoyed by generations to come? History has repeatedly demonstrated that when ones neighbourhood is not at peace, precious limited resources are wasted and the human lives we wow to protect and nourish fall into dismay. 

Many children to come, may not have the opportunity to be both an Indian and Pakistani like my niece, and all of them would need a narrative of trust and friendship for Pakistan and India to walk together and strengthen both individually and collectively.   




     









 

 



 

Sunday, 29 November 2020

Hold

Night shall pass

Day cometh next 

Hold dear to the song

We sung when sun and moon both hail high

Disturbance is a passage 

Wastage uses the same vein 

That oxygenates the blood

Walk along firm in belief

Firmness no wall can bring

Sway along to the silent tune

All music arisen from there

Sunday, 10 May 2020

Happy Mother's Day


Your views your thoughts
Have nourished our minds

Your belief in goodness
Made us cherish our hearts

You see differently
That makes you You

You speak your mind
That brings shine in you

As the mother you are
So tender so loving

As the concerned you are
So upright so courageous

Mummy!

You balance the two You
So succinctly so beautifully

The fears you hold
Holds you not

The love you hold
Holds you soft

You reckon the energies
So different among your loved ones

You patiently persist
Navigating each energy at its pace

Mummy!

Your smile is powerful
Your warmth is bountiful

Your presence is precious
Your excitement is contagious

We Love You :)


Saturday, 9 May 2020

THIS


This is about this!

Not that... 
and
Not the one you are thinking about
But this...

Moving straight or moving forward
Does not matter unless it is this

Are you sure this is this?
Because if you are not
Then that is not this

And what is this?
Cannot it be that because that was once this!

Don’t confuse this with that
Because this is only this

This has a character
Which that cannot imagine

It is the now 
That that 
Can only wave at or cry for

This is what it is 
And not
What is hoped for or what is decried

Experience this
And you wont need to
Wish for that or that!

Seeker



The dust on my hands
The pain in my thighs
The restlessness in my throat
The sweat on my face

Clouds hugging the mist
Wind blowing its trumpet
Heat clenching its fist
Breadth sensing its chord   

The echos of my sound
Bouncing back to where I stand
Sun playing with the sand
Scribbling lines long and wide

Minute lasts an hour
Thirst awaits every drop of gold
Seek not what you sought yester
Pain and pleasure now walk together

Reason bequeaths its throne
Shelter drops its guard
Logic crawls behind faith
Seeker becomes the sought


Path Taken


                                                                                                           Cento 



Drive slowly                                                                             (1)
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear                                  (2)

With the windows unrolled                                                      (3)
Confusion, like the heart, gets left behind                                (4)

Whispered the heart
With who, how and what

If I must worry about how
I would be without dreams now                                               (5)

For what are space and time but the inventions                      (6)
And…
How much - how little - is within our power                            (7)

Looking into the heart of light, the silence                               (8)
You breathe; new shapes appear                                             (9)

In this short Life that only lasts an hour                                  (10)
I took the one less traveled by                                                 (11)

Reminded by a child who a drew a circle sky
Because the sky has no edges                                                  (12)
So do I                     

1.      A great wagon – by Rumi
2.      Still I Rise – by Maya Angelou
3.      Hospital parking lot, April – by Laura Kasischke
4.      Death - by Donald Revell
5.      Allow Me – by Chungmi Kim
6.      Death - by Donald Revell
7.      In this short Life that only lasts an hour – by Emily Dickinson
8.      The Burial of the Dead – by T.S. Eliot
9.      A great wagon – by Rumi
10.   In this short Life that only lasts an hour – by Emily Dickinson
11.   The road not taken – by Robert Frost
12.   The Artist Child - by Dunya Mikhail



When Deception and Freedom Walk Side by Side


Hushhhshsh … At Last now it is safe
Safe as a bird in its hatch
Safe like the string in its sacred place in the guitar
Safe as a song unsung

Isn’t it quiet!!
Yessss ..ssss At Last it is quiet
Quiet as the lake in the winters
Quiet like the leaves at midday
Quiet as the night undisturbed

Ohh.. it’s not moving!
For heavens, it is still
Still as a mountain in its place
Still like a memory restored
Still as a breath unobserved

Don’t you want to ….
Want to what?
Let it be .. Let it free?

Free you say
Free as a haunting dream spree
Free like the dishonor awake
Free as a havoc unchained

See not as you see
Be not as you be

Free .. yes Free
Free from the stillness so rigid
Free from the quiet so sorrow
Free from the safety so insecure

Free .. yes Free
Free as the singing nightingale
Free like the breath unrestrained
Free as it must be