Merit, Anyone?

I talk about my son a lot in my blogs. Its true, I love him a lot. He was 3 years old when his parents divorced. He has spent the last 3 years trying to grapple with his fragmented life. Iam always amazed by his goodness and good cheer despite the abnormal lifestyle he has. In the difficult life that I have, i and his father managed to prepare him for the Aitchison test. On weekends i would make him study 5 to 6 hours at a stretch. he would never rebel, or get bored or tired, but would cheerfully keep his head to the grind. Only after his test did it strike me that i had two very good friends on the Aitchison board and I approached both of them to put in a good word for my child. Both said , and these were important people, that we have no say. The principal doesnt listen to us. One of them said, "why didnt you tell me before the test?" I had never thought of it. Despite my good start in life, I consider myself a self made person. I wanted my child to take the first step on his own atleast. Anyway, I left it to God. and then the result came and he made it. We took him for the interview, his cheerful naughty self, and after a short interview, he was given the admission letter. It is true that both my sons parents are bureaucrats. But thats all we were. we did not use any approach. He was admitted only because he was good enough. When i came out, I was in tears. I thought, this is the first positive thing that has happened to this little boy since we divorced in 2011. I felt a little of the burden of guilt i carry lifting away from me, the guilt I feel for letting him down in the process of being true to myself. Last week he was getting his uniform from the school and had stars in his eyes. I was really impressed. I said to one of my firends, Punjab has finally ensured merit across the board. Now Aitchison is at par with Danish schools. Anybody can go there on the basis of hard work, not paternity. No "ashrafia" if you know what i mean.Punjab has done the impossible. I have only recounted my personal experience. I have no idea what happened in the board meeting that removed the principal. I met him only once. He said to me that he wasnt sure he would be able to survive in Aitchison. I only tried to write how much it can matter to a child and his parents if their child gets what he deserves for once, and they do not have to do any wrong to attain it for him. I have questions, so many. What are we doing to this society. What values are we bequeathing to our children. The children of the influential class has so many chances to get ahead in life when they dont deserve to. Is even this level being denied to people who have nobody to approach, or want their children to make it on their own? How will we ever create a just society if even a six year old learns that even if he is good, he will not get to the best place, but will have recourse only to cheap "itwar bazaar"schools, which he is supposed to be content with, while they cannot aspire to "shop" at high end schools. WHat matters is not what what you are inside, what only matters is whose child you are, how much money you have. Is this the legacy we want to leave behind? Is this the truth behind merit? Then why should anybody study, why dont we all just buy degrees and turn our institutions into Axact ? Why shouldnt the best minds leave this country, when they know that nobody cares for work, hard work, sense of responsibility and values? Values is for suckers. Then why shouldnt our youth not want to do anything apart from indulge in romance and buy phones? I see this listlessness in the workforce, the older students, the youth everywhere. Whats the point of kicking open doors for effect ? The legacy of compromise is reflected in the attitude of the Lahore traders who just are not used to paying taxes or having their incomes documented, and are not about to do it now. They want to use "shutter power" and want to punish "their government" . Because this government has never asked them to pay taxes before. They are aghast at this demand. Me, pay tax? the fundamental question of the privileged class in Pakistan. A lifetime of compromise has its benefits. I know what the fruits are. A just society is not one of the fruits. We have to stop the buck somewhere.

On this Eid- Live for others

Grey clouds heralded this eid ul fitr, Nature showed a merciful face this year, in contrast to the harsh sun of last eid. From a punishing mood, the cosmos are moving towards benevolence. But soon we will be facing flood conditions in Pakistan, which is a yearly feature. Last eid for me was difficult. Desolate and sad due to reasons beyond my control, I did not celebrate it. But this year I feel alive once again.I feel new hope, joy, caring. I dont feel alone anymore despite my recent illness. My loved ones made this happen. For this I am thankful to them and to God for his blessings.But the biggest source of happiness during Ramadan was to see my fifteen year old daughter do her month long internship at Akhuwat, the microfinance charity so admirably led by Dr.Amjad Saqib. I first witnessed their ceremony of extending micro loans to needy persons in the Shah Jamal Mosque in Lahore, in 2005. It brought tears to my eyes how a relationship was forged between the donors and the loan recipients.Here was a process with no question of dependence or compromise on self respect.From then on, Akhuwat has moved from strength to strength. when my daughter expressed this desire in April, I was overjoyed and took her to get registered myself. She became the youngest ever Akhuwat intern. I loved seeing her work from day to night, coming home tired but she was so happy, she was consumed by her work. It reminded me of myself when I work with people. The greatest joy is to make others happy. In her interest, I saw the realization of one of my greatest convictions, which made me join public service and make an effort to acquaint my children to the lives of poor people, real people i call them, not living in bubbles of comfort like people of my class. I believe that our nation can never progress until the people from the privileged classes get out of their comfort zones and make their contribution for the support of the less fortunate, not only in terms of money, but through giving time and working to improve things,whether within the government or independently. Ever since Pakistan came into being, the privileged class has mostly taken, but not given much back. We have lived selfishly, and now this message has trickled down to every strata of society.As a young person, i felt the most socially acceptable way for me was to join public service and i have seen and experienced that one can make so much difference, if only one wants to.I loved my work and have never looked back. I feel elated that my child is going in the right direction, achieving balance as a person, between her normal life and her duties towards her community. Infact, community work should be compulsory for teenagers, so that they develop an empathy for the have nots before their biases become hardened and they become the uncaring, unfeeling people I encounter everyday everywhere,thinking of only of self gratification. There are reasons for the apathetic attitudes. The message from the upper classes of living selfishly has permeated. Then most of us do not believe in the government, in the system. We look at it with cynicism and suspicion. Fear even. So we do not want to contribute.And then, after years of suffering a non inclusive form of governance, many of us do not have a sense of rights as well as our responsibilities. We cannot define our role in our national life, so many do not have the self confidence to think we can contribute and make a difference. We dont think we matter. But each of us has the power to change our world. If only we believe we can. Perhaps this eid is a time for new beginnings.

Unexpected Kindness

Today I was at the market with my 6 year old son, with the usual beggars whose numbers always increase in Ramadan. Never uncharitable, today I was occupied in getting out of there before Iftar and shooed away the beggars. My son admonished me and told me, you must give something to them. And i ended up giving more and bigger currency notes when the change ended. I happily heard his lecture that the poor need money more than we do and they dont even have money to buy food, so its our responsibility to help them.I felt proud of his charitable nature. But then i asked him, why dont they work? they dont have jobs maama, pat came the reply. But cant they do anything? Beggary is forbidden in islam. This was a revelation for him, as well as for me, as it is for most of us who are so used to seeing the beggars on the roads that we stop thinking of them as human beings, who might be equal to us. Poverty is such a scourge, we start thinking of somebody poor as a lesser being, and subconsciously divest them of human rights, though we are all equal as citizens of our country. We give them charity, without thinking, mostly with a sense of relief about ourselves that perhaps we have done a good deed during our da, not thinking of them. But how do we help them without making them compromise on their self respect? Self respect is a delicate thing in nations. It can be easily eroded through abuse and subjugation over the ages, as it has been in our country. But it is the difference between a self sustaining nation and a parasitical one. We are very proud of the fact that we are one of the most charitable nations in the world. But the next time I and many like me distribute food at Data Darbar, the shrine of the revered Muslim saint Ali Hajvairy, called Data, the Giver, we must stop and think how we can wean our people from expecting to live on charity, towards more self sufficiency. We need a well integrated social welfare system, a system which is equally accessible for all. I dream of a day when i go there and find nobody who is needy enough to want food. But then,which human being can be totally self sufficent? It is a goal we keep striving for, but realize our weakness each time. Rich and poor, we are at the mercy of life, fate, other people. The world is competitive, cruel, opportunistic.The powerful and rich think they dont need anybody, but we are just kidding ourselves. Infact all human beings are living dependent upon the kindeness of other human beings. We cannot survive without others. And the best kindness is that which is unexpected, which comes to us like a boon straight from God. The smile, the helping hand, the favour given, the problem solved, the response received, the action taken. Kindness can take so many forms. I am not poor. I dont consider myself alone or old . Yet two weeks ago I suddenly fell ill on the first of ramadan, while I had sent my guards and servant for iftar, again out of kindness by the way. I collapsed suddenly and fainted due to severe anemia which i was not aware of, and did not have the strength to get up when I woke up from delirium. There, lying on the wooden floor, trying to get a chocolate out of a drawer nearby to revive myself, I felt alone and helpeless, not sure how i would be in the next moment. Lying there, i called and messaged all the people I thought could respond, and were near enough. Only one called back to tell me that he was out of the city. Then suddenly an acquaintence responded to the message I had sent in the morning. i told him and he immediately arranged for a doctor, who came and helped me. It was help from out of the blue, a reminder that we are never alone in the presence of God. When one is restored, one's confidence revives and one can look back with amusement. But those minutes of absolute helplessness reminded me how precious kindness can be to anybody. We do not realize it, but our kindness to another human being can sometimes make or break them, and can be a difference of life or death for them. And the kindness which is not seeking any reward, not a return, not an acknowledgement, can be touching. As my acquaintence said when I later thanked him after recuperating," always there". It is the grace with which kindness is extended that makes it manifold and memorable. I will perhaps never need him again, but I did feel inspired to be like him in other people's lives if they need help, not for any reward, but only for the sake of helping .

Some are Strong

Today is the death anniversary of one of my favourite authors, Earnest Hemingway. I wanted to write something cheerful today, but a quote i read today commemorating his anniversary, pulled me towards itself like a magnet. " The world breaks everyone, and afterwards, some are strong at the broken places." Does hurt and pain makes us stronger? depepnds on what we are made of. some people are impervious like granite, some porous like sandstone, some melt away like chalkstone.Truth makes us tough, strong, our belief in our values makes us able to withstand loss, hurt, disappointment, misfortune. But what are the broken places ? to me, they are our experiences. Surviving a loss makes us used to loss, and maybe, if we get out of it with our integrity intact, it makes us strong enough to withstand a bigger loss , a bigger catastrophe, a bigger misfortune. Our experiences are the sum total of our gain on this earth, our experiences and actions. But what hurts us most. . Standing fast with our beliefs or staying in the comfort zone of the structure that we are born into, which lets us just flow with the predetermined course of things? If we go with the flow, we never learn to swim on our own. never gaining the strength to think and act on our own, decide what to believe in, what not to believe in, how to live one's life. But going against the tide damages us more..but makes us stronger at the same time. I was born in a privileged home, with a very sheltered upbringing, but in the course of my life I had to take so much pain, so much disappointment, that now I look back and wonder how I could sustain what i did. I was not this strong. It is only the Grace of God which sustained me. If i can survive with so much , I am sure anybody can. I am a weak person, but still I chose to go on, not give up, because nobody in the world has the right or prerogative to tell you, that you are not good enough, that you are bad. Those who say it should look at their own weaknesses first, and then brand or judge others.. We all have faults. It is for God, not human beings to decide who deserves what, who is good and who is bad. The more judgemental one becomes, the more hurt comes ones own way. And those whom we judge so gloatingly, grow stronger and are blessed more and more. My first marriage taught me lots of lessons in what not to do. All that I disliked about my ex spouse I learnt to take out of my life, like self righteousness, manipulation,false pride,selfishness and especially rudeness and loudness, among other stuff. I am basically hot tempered, but now my elder daughter gets frustrated why I never seem to get angry, whatever happens, why I do not fight even when the occasion calls for it. Is patience also a manifestation of becoming stronger at the broken places? It seems like it. Suffering also makes one more thankful and appreciative of what one does have,because one knows that it could get worse:) The ability to appreciate and value the good things and people in your life is one og the greatest blessings a person can have. the world is a cruel place, where we compete with nature and ourselves each day. One gets broken and one is supposed to get hurt. But what one does with the hurt and pain is what makes the biggest difference.If one spreads goodness in return for the pain that one gets, how much better can life be for people around us. And to me, the caring person is the strongest, not the proudest one.

Homecoming

The reflection of the half moon of summer glitters on the watery green fields . In the dusk twilight, I can see the orange-pink of the unending horizon from the aeroplane window , and the moon, and its moonlight on the ground at the same time, as my plane hovers over the Lahore airport, preparing to land.To this bewitching city I come back once again. In my efforts to keep my shattered life together, I shuttle between my workplace, Islamabad, and my home, Lahore. Here I was born, bred, married, had children, worked, divorced, buried my father and only brother, and here, whats left of my family, and my children, live. I have loved, lived laughed and cried in this city, and here i will be buried, as God wishes. So far so good. A life lived in pockets of priorities, career, family, love, self, aspirations, becomes fragmented and cyclical. One pocket at the cost of others keeps swelling, perhaps all of us live like this these days. Insulated from the people in my workplace, only exposed to office intrigue and petty minds and concerns, I feel myself wilting, deteriorating. My work used to be the most significant part of my life, because it enabled me to make a difference and help others. That sense is not there now, and I feel useless and uninspired, restless. Happiness in love cannot compensate for this. I do not feel alive. My ex spouse is getting married, as I always knew he would. That was the main reason for his insisting on a divorce, which was not surprising, since we never had anything in common. Even our friends could not find anything in common when they met each other at our home. But i did not like the whole vaudeville he created to enable himself to extricate himself from the marriage. Perhaps he knew that if he told his family the real reason he wanted out, because he was tired of living a lie, people would not accept it. So he created a justification, and postured to be a hapless husband who had to take care of his children, which was farthest from the truth as it could be, as when i worked, my mother took care of my kids and he just lounged around watching tv, making the occasional bottle of milk for the one year old. I would have respected him more if he had stated his reasons frankly and moved on. But then, in this hypocritical society, who can dare to speak out his real needs? And he could never bear to be unpopular or disliked. he always wanted approval, which made him such a coward. Well may he find happiness, Im happier to note that another of his lies about devoting his life to kids and never remarrying, stands exposed. I could never love him, because he was always a liar. Finally I will be freed from his blame games. The best things in my life are the kids. Beautiful, bright, doing well. confident and serious, but always bursting with joy and naughtiness. I hope they know the value of the good things in life, and know how to differentiate between whats right and wrong. One big thing going right in my life. Im lucky. The self is the last these days. It will bloom with inspiration, and love, the snippets that i receive of it from time to time, though they suffice for now. The tall bamboo trees in my home rustle in the wind, as the monsoon clouds come sweeping in on the unending horizon. Another season of fulfillment is coming on.

What happens next

Human beings have been traversing the earth for aeons, and ever since we were dropped onto it, as our religions say, or evolved, a Darwin says, we have for ever been clueless about why we are here, what we are supposed to do here, and where we are heading. Religion has taken care of the first two questions. We know we were put on earth by God to do good things, the right thing, and help him prove to the Devil that our creation was not in vain. We also know we will go back to him, and death will take us there, but one question always bothers each human being as we progress on our own individual life path: what does the future hold, what does life have in store for us, simply, what happens next. To me, it seems the reason for this curiosity is, that there is an outer landscape around us, and in our minds, there is an inner landscape that is very different from the physical one outside. the landscape of our minds is composed of what we want our life to be like. It is made up of our hopes, dreams, desires,ambitions. And with this landscape our emotions are very much attahced. There is an innate desire in every human being to want that the physical lanscape around him should match his inner landscape as much as possible, and on this his or her happiness and satisfaction in life depends. The desire to know what happens next is because we want to know how much these two landscapes will resemble each other in future, and if our efforts to match them will bear fruit or will be futile. We have devised many ways of assessing what happens next. Astrology, tarot, runes, iching,palm reading,dream interpretation, signs, all sorts of superstitions, globe reading gypsies, and Istikharas for muslims.We pray, we go to holy places, we make promises to God, all to placate Him into granting our wishes. Yet we still have no idea. Sometime something works, sometimes something else works. We do not know why. But more often than not, we notice that what we believe in works. Is it perhaps because belief is stronger than all other things in the universe? What we beleive in, becomes our truth. And that becomes real, palpable, and takes a physical form in the end. Does that mean that the human being is actually the most powerful being in this world? the viceregent of God the creator, who can acheive things through sheer willpower? Hope, belief and faith, have made what seemed impossible, become possible in my life. So I guess I am one person who has proof that faith can move mountains. I am sure each of us have many examples of such events in their own lives. It is true, things in our life never match our inner landscape exactly. There are variations. Depends on our effort level and and also our willingness to take risks. Which follows on the strength of our beliefs. The more we strive, the more similar they become. The more one believes, the more one strives. Reminds me of Rumi's ideas, (i do not remember the exact words), that there is a hidden treasure in each of us, meaning a well of strength, which is more powerful and valuable than anything in the outside world, and every human being should try to seek that. If we find it, we can change ourselves and our world. What happens next in our lives, is usually based on what we find inside us.

Soulmate

I write todays post one day after my birthday. On my birthday I re met one of my very good friends, and she then told another, then another. It is true that I have very few friends. I dont make them easily. But Im surprised again and agaian to know that those who hung on to me through my difficult times, are with me because of myself, not because of any other reason. Perhaps the only way to recognize true friends is to see how they treat you when you are down and out. My mother used to tell me that people are insincere and wicked, and she taught me from an early age to distrust people, expect the worst from them, and always be wary, aloof, suspicious. So that people do not get the oportunity to hurt you. I thank my stars that i met so amny other people in life, good people, who liked me and stuck by me, and made me believe in the goodness of humanity, the ability of the human being to attract good by doing the right thing, and bringing the best out of people by expecting the best. It was my father who taught me to stand up for my values and for what i believed in, no matter what. he taught me to be independent in thought and action, but I think I learnt to take risks purely on my own. And a good but reticent friend taught me not to feel sorry for myself even in the worst of times, and get hold of my life by getting a grip on myself. But I learnt the most beautiful lesson of my life from the one that I love. He said, expect good from life, only then will good things happen to you. I was struck by it, because i had never thought of life this way. Nimbly and nervously, i began to venture out of my fears and began following what he had said. I trust him so much, I believed it because he had said it, though i wasnt sure about its effectiveness. Till date, this thought has given me nothing but happiness, faith and hope. Well it is not surprising. Ever since I have met him, i have known much happiness. Whenever I look into his shining eyes, I see love, acceptance and appreciation, and myself. He doesnt say much, but then nor do I. I want him to express his feelings more, but then i remember that i am the same. We say little, do more, and feel most. His actions, sometimes i like them,sometimes i dont, are a perfect mirror of myself. His good qualities are my good qualities, but the ones that i dont like, I realize that i have these habits too. Its sometimes uncanny. Perhaps this is the reason, I cannot stay away from each other. Sometimes, when Im patiently waiting for him to find time while my issues get bigger and bigger,I remember my daughter, three years old, who used to wait for me when she came back from school, if she needed anything, thinking that she would do her project, ask for things when mama came home. But I would get late and she would fall asleep waiting for me. I was very busy at the time, i couldnt help it but feel bad to this day. She learnt to do without me. But when i wait for him , i realize how trying it is to wait for someone you love to find time for you when he has so much work to do and cannot help it. It wasnt my fault, it isnt his, but it is trying all the same. The tiredness, the irritability, the preoccupation, I have gone through it myself, that is why i can accept it. I do know that my love washes away his worries, the same way his love and affection , his spontaneous bursts of affection, caring and sometimes possessiveness, wash away my sorrow, my loneliness and my insecurities. I bloom, smile, and feel grateful. And feel that i am the luckiest woman in the world. He isnt perfect, but he is perfect for me. Whenever i expect bad from him, i recive only good. whatever, is in my best interest, he does instinctively. Whenever we are upset with each other, circumstance remove all our misunderstandings. For all his possessiveness, he never makes me feel cloistered or suspected, only loved and cherished. Do I wax too eloquent on his greatness? As i said many times before, it is not because he is perfect, but he is perfect for me. And on my birthday,I guess Im allowed to feel a bit grateful for all this uncanniness. We look for miracles, but we miss the small miracles that God blesses us with: the people whom we love, and those who love us back.