standing still in the middle of my kitchen
gazing at the spot that was so used
the same place where you used to sit
and gaze back at me
here I stand, watching and waiting
I know the signals you are sending me
to say loudly what I feel
is when the words are wasted
I walk by your room every day
reminiscing the times we used to lie together
the murmurs in the night
the sadness in your life
your eyes closed, the pain gone
I am not suffering
that you have given me what was yours
for this is what I prayed for
mount of granite, an ever moving stream
the smile that is so clear to me
from a person so great
she was none other than my Ammi
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
The Pakistan Experience
After a 26-hour flight from California, any person would welcome land beneath their feet, unless it's land where there has been so much unrest. This country, to which I traveled recently, is Pakistan. It is my parents' native land where they still own property. The last time I was in Pakistan was ten years ago when the country was very different than it is now.
Upon arrival to Lahore's International Airport, I had a lot of anxiety. Having watched the turmoil unfolding on American media, I was afraid that we would be attacked just for being foreigners. Pakistan has been in the news consistently since the September 11 attacks on the World Trade Center. The country's reputation, at least in America, is known to be a country that manufactures and promotes terrorism.
As we drove from Lahore to Faisalabad, our home city, there were signs throughout the cities of the turmoil in the country. The military has stationed snipers all over the cities, sitting behind barricades of sand bags on rooftops with their guns positioned in a way to quickly attack anyone that may cause unrest. The constant stopping of cars and questioning of the driver and passengers speaks of the Pakistanis' own fear of terrorism.
To anyone who grew up in America, the poverty is immediately apparent. I was reminded of this when several women approached me and asked for money to help feed their children. Soon, I realized that those that beg are not in the lowest classes of the country. Some of them make more money than the man that works a labor job of cleaning the streets all day with a jahrooh (hand-broom).
This is a country where the extremely rich cannot turn a blind eye to the poor, who often work for the wealthy. The poor live amongst the rich in houses built of mud bricks. There are homes built by wealthy Pakistanis that cost millions of rupees (the currency of Pakistan, one U.S. dollar is worth 84 rupees). Next door to these mansions will be a mud-brick hut with dirt floors that is inhabited by the less fortunate. These poor people live as nomads, moving from city to city to find work and settle down for a few months at a time.
In Pakistan, people believe everything can be reused. Many wealthy people who can afford cars unashamedly throw trash out of their car windows, only for it to be picked up by someone and reused. Technology seems ancient for this very reason. When asked why they don't upgrade, I was told, "Why? It still works!" This mentality reaches across the culture, from used clothing to plastic shopping bags, if there is some use left in an object, it will be used.
The purpose for my visit was to attend my niece's arranged marriage which turned out to be an interesting event. My niece and her husband were quite comfortable throughout the wedding ceremony despite the two not knowing each other beforehand. This was a three-day event. Unfortunately, the local police do not allow large gatherings to continue after midnight, so we were forced to move the festivities from the marriage hall to our home. This, I later found out, is another way the government of Pakistan ensures safety of its people.
The visit changed my view of Pakistan from many different angles. Although the country has its problems as every country does, the remarkable cultural fabric of the country makes up for what it lacks. Despite the problems, I share the hope that many youth have of Pakistan one day becoming a large economic power that is void of the corruption that infects it now.
Since my return to Sacramento, my friends and family have been asking me questions of my stay in Pakistan. During one such conversation, I was asked if Pakistan is a democracy. "Yes, it is," I said. "Really? Are the elections legitimate," he asked. "Are America's?" I said.
Upon arrival to Lahore's International Airport, I had a lot of anxiety. Having watched the turmoil unfolding on American media, I was afraid that we would be attacked just for being foreigners. Pakistan has been in the news consistently since the September 11 attacks on the World Trade Center. The country's reputation, at least in America, is known to be a country that manufactures and promotes terrorism.
As we drove from Lahore to Faisalabad, our home city, there were signs throughout the cities of the turmoil in the country. The military has stationed snipers all over the cities, sitting behind barricades of sand bags on rooftops with their guns positioned in a way to quickly attack anyone that may cause unrest. The constant stopping of cars and questioning of the driver and passengers speaks of the Pakistanis' own fear of terrorism.
To anyone who grew up in America, the poverty is immediately apparent. I was reminded of this when several women approached me and asked for money to help feed their children. Soon, I realized that those that beg are not in the lowest classes of the country. Some of them make more money than the man that works a labor job of cleaning the streets all day with a jahrooh (hand-broom).
This is a country where the extremely rich cannot turn a blind eye to the poor, who often work for the wealthy. The poor live amongst the rich in houses built of mud bricks. There are homes built by wealthy Pakistanis that cost millions of rupees (the currency of Pakistan, one U.S. dollar is worth 84 rupees). Next door to these mansions will be a mud-brick hut with dirt floors that is inhabited by the less fortunate. These poor people live as nomads, moving from city to city to find work and settle down for a few months at a time.
In Pakistan, people believe everything can be reused. Many wealthy people who can afford cars unashamedly throw trash out of their car windows, only for it to be picked up by someone and reused. Technology seems ancient for this very reason. When asked why they don't upgrade, I was told, "Why? It still works!" This mentality reaches across the culture, from used clothing to plastic shopping bags, if there is some use left in an object, it will be used.
The purpose for my visit was to attend my niece's arranged marriage which turned out to be an interesting event. My niece and her husband were quite comfortable throughout the wedding ceremony despite the two not knowing each other beforehand. This was a three-day event. Unfortunately, the local police do not allow large gatherings to continue after midnight, so we were forced to move the festivities from the marriage hall to our home. This, I later found out, is another way the government of Pakistan ensures safety of its people.
The visit changed my view of Pakistan from many different angles. Although the country has its problems as every country does, the remarkable cultural fabric of the country makes up for what it lacks. Despite the problems, I share the hope that many youth have of Pakistan one day becoming a large economic power that is void of the corruption that infects it now.
Since my return to Sacramento, my friends and family have been asking me questions of my stay in Pakistan. During one such conversation, I was asked if Pakistan is a democracy. "Yes, it is," I said. "Really? Are the elections legitimate," he asked. "Are America's?" I said.
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