I joined Tamreez and Elhaan this week and it’s great to see them again. Elhaan seems to have been influenced by Pakistani politicians and greeted me with estranged looks, perhaps complaining about my unannounced disappearance from his life for over a month and a half. He has decided to change parties. He who would only sleep in my arms now refuses to even let me hold him when he is sleepy. I am sure I will lure him back into my party soon.
Changing parties is the order of the day in Pakistani politics at the moment, as Imran Khan’s PTI has undoubtedly registered itself as the third big force in the political arena. It is yet to be seen if it is for the good.
In the UK, the Lib Dem vote bank in the last elections was mainly boosted by those who resented the two main parties. Likewise, Imran’s PTI is banking a lot on those voters who are fed up of the PPP/PML(N) led governments in the past.
Lib Dems also came up quite strong in the pre election polls yet could not translate that into tangible success. The momentum was still enough to give them a stake in the coalition government. Since then, the amount of U turns and compromises they have done, has completely shattered any hopes for them to do well in the next elections. I know there is a big difference in the two parties but still I hope PTI does not end up in the same boat if they do well.
The basic day to day issues like inflation, shortages of gas and electricity and the deteriorating condition of transport and infrastructure etc. are what people want resolved. A conversation with my driver who cannot read or write but yet carries a good insight into politics, sums up how a general voter thinks about politics. He has decided to vote for PTI in the next elections. When asked what convinced him to vote in favour of Imran Khan’s PTI, he said, “All my life I have seen others rule. They have been given more than one chance and they looted and destroyed my country. Imran Khan has a clean track record up till now and I can only hope that he is different from others. Worse comes to worst he’ll also do what his predecessors did. At least he deserves a chance”.
When I’m asked if I’m enjoying motherhood, I have to struggle very hard not to say “no”. I shudder to think what the other person would make of me if I point-blank said “No, I don’t enjoy it”. And then I think God might punish me for being ungrateful and not valuing his “gift” and then I don’t even want to finish that thought. So instead I say something diplomatic. “Haha, yes but it can be challenging”. “Yes, he’s quite a handful”. “I enjoy it but I also get very tired”. “I love Elhaan, but sometimes I just want a break”.
Underlying all of that is guilt and blame. Guilt that I am not living up to the ideal of motherhood. That I should enjoy every frikkin moment with my child. And blame: I must be a bad mother if my child is fussy while eating, I must be a bad mother if my child doesn’t sleep through the night, I must be a bad mother if he’s clingy, I must be a bad mother if he cries.
In my mind, there is a model of a perfect mother and a perfect child and any time I or Elhaan don’t live up to that, I begin questioning my own parenting or ”motherhood”. My sisters tell me that watching me with Elhaan they’ve realized how difficult it is to raise a child and they are scared of having kids. I took that to mean that I must be a very bad role model as a mother. I should have made it seem effortless and fun.
And today I thought: My mother always blamed herself for any of our failings, for our rebelliousness or any time we disappointed her or our father. And I always told her that we were all individuals with separate personalities and free wills and our every decision, choice, mistake or failing was not a reflection on her as a mother. She shouldn’t be so hard on herself. She did the best job she knew how to do.
But here I am saying the exact same things she always said. And blaming myself for my 9 month old! He hasn’t even begun to make mistakes and he has no failings. And still I blame myself. He is innocent and friendly and happy. He likes people and he babbles and crawls. He wants to play all day and has too much energy for his own good. He is demanding because he is smart for his age. Yes he can be cranky and he doesn’t sleep through the night. Changing his nappies while he wants to crawl away can be quite a herculean task. Food is something to be played with rather than eaten. And waking up every hour or two through the night takes all my patience and makes me think of two words all the time: sleep training.
Emel and Oxfam organised the screening of ‘Miral’ last Thursday in London and I am glad I attended it. Director, Julian Schnabel stirred controversy with this daring film, based on a biographical novel by Rula Jebreal. I was shocked to hear in the introduction, that earlier this year on April 4th, a few days after the film was released in US, Juliano Merr-Khamis, an actor and peace activist who played a role in the film, was murdered outside his own theatre in a Palestinian refugee camp.
I grew up hearing the horror stories of Palestine. It is one of the biggest humanitarian disasters of our time. The so-called “civilised” world knowingly has put a blind eye towards the unjustified atrocities committed by the Jewish state since it’s creation. In retaliation the other side also uses all means possible to inflict pain to their enemy. The fact is that human beings are suffering on both sides.
It’s very rarely that we get to see a glimpse of the lives of ordinary Palestinians. Miral is a daring endeavour to voice the human side of this conflict. It tells a story spanning 60 years, of 4 Palestinian women living under the conflict.
The first account is of Hind Husseini and her brave effort to establish an orphanage in Jerusalem after the Deir Yassin Massacre in 1948. Hind was an influential lady of Palestine, who one day finds 55 children on a street, orphaned by the massacre, and takes them home to give them food and shelter. Soon the number reaches over 2000, giving birth to an institute she names Dar Al-Tifel. The striking thing about her is her patience in the worst of situations. She knows there is very little she can do other than using her influence to shield these children from the wrath of the occupiers. Hind believes that education is the only way towards peace.
The story continues with the account of a female fighter, Fatima, who is serving 3 charges of lifetime after a bomb attack and the circumstances that led her to commit that act. In parallel, it shows the disturbed life of Nadia, Miral’s mother. In 1978, the 5 year old Miral (played by Freida Pinto) is brought to Hind’s Institute by her father following her mother’s suicide. Hind protects her too from the world outside the walls of Dar Al-Tifel. One day the girls are assigned to teach at a refugee camp when in an Army raid a local family is dragged out of their house and the house bulldozed to rubble. The rebel in Miral suddenly wakes up to the troubles surrounding Palestinian people.
She later falls in a romantic relationship with a character named Hani, who is a Palestinian political activist. Miral struggles to choose between her desire to join the cause of her people and Hind’s path of academia, keeping away from hostility. She gets involved briefly with the political activities but eventually decides to take on the route Hind paved for her. The film ends with her taking up a scholarship in Italy later becoming a journalist helping her people. Her courage throughout this struggle must be commended. Rula is that journalist who eventually wrote her biographical story under the name of Miral.
I don’t think the aim of the film was to highlight the conflict as a whole, but rather it focussed on highlighting a unique side to the lives of ordinary local women: from Hind’s patience, love and determination to Miral’s struggle from an early age and her dilemma to decide her path in life.
The film has still received a lot of criticism from the Jewish circles as it seems to put them is a negative light. Julian Schnabel however believes that “the film is about preserving the state of Israel, not hurting it. Understanding is part of Jewish way, and Jewish people are supposed to be good listeners. But if we don’t listen to the other side, we can never have peace”. He said this at a rare screening of the film at the United Nations.
I must say it is an honest and brave attempt by the Israeli Director.
Leena’s wedding is now just over two weeks away. Our house is becoming a scene from Monsoon Wedding, with dance practices and family dramas galore. While my sister and her friends have choreographed dances to almost 11-12 songs, I’m down to 2. For this I will squarely lay the blame on my baby’s 9 month old shoulders. Although Elhaan is now familiar with all family members and especially crawls behind his grandfathers like a little puppy dog, he is still super clingy with me. If I’m out of sight for more than an hour, he launches a search party to find me. I kid you not. He will insist on being picked up and point with his arm from room to room until he finds me!
As with every other “shaadi ka ghar”, no matter how much I try to tell my sister that everything will fall into place, every little glitch on the road to marital bliss is considered a crisis. Being a perfectionist really doesn’t help matters. The cards arrived a bit smudged and were sent back to the printers. Her wedding outfits were altered at least two times each. Stage decor and arrangements continue to give her sleepless nights. To top it all, being a corporate lawyer, she has a full workload which she will continue as close to her wedding date as possible. I remember being the same way when it was my wedding. I now realize that all that stress really wasn’t worth it. But retrospective wisdom is hardly ever appreciated and always unwated- unless it’s gained from one’s own experiences.
December/January is always wedding season in Pakistan as we’re more able to cope with freezing cold than sweltering heat. Also now with everyone having at least a few relatives who live abroad, every wedding gets pushed into a two week window of the last week of December and first week of January to accommodate the Christmas holidays. So this year, apart from Leena’s wedding, I have four other weddings I’ve been invited to. Two friends and two of Asim’s cousins. And that brings us to the very important question of what to wear. Although I’ve shed most of my baby weight, I’m still a size bigger than what I was when I got married and am getting a lot of my outfits altered. Asim arrives from England in a week’s time and I hope to finish my rounds to the tailors, dyers and lace wallahs before he arrives.
I just finished reading Desperate in Dubai by an author who goes by the pen name Ameera al Hakawati. The book was first written as a blog (which I never saw but was apparently very popular in Dubai). The book was a bit trashy but throughly entertaining. TimeOut India’s description of it as “Dubai’s answer to Desperate Housewives” is an apt description.
The story revolves around the lives of four women in Dubai. Lady Luxe, a young local Emirati girl belonging to one of the most elite families in Dubai. However, despite her privileged life, she is unhappy and leading a double existence. Donning an expensive wig and blue contact lenses she indulges in Dubai’s nightlife and men, exploring every possible avenue forbidden to her by her culture and religion. She is living in constant fear of being discovered and the disastrous consequences that would surely ensue. She is reminded of cousins who simply “disappeared” having dishonoured their families, yet she can’t give up her “freedom” which makes her feel in control of her own life.
Next we meet her friend Leila, a thirty-something Lebanese bombshell who pretends to be in her twenties. Having lost her naivete years ago and left with a broken heart, her one mission in life is to marry a rich man. A decade, countless men and heartbreaks later, she is still single and getting more desperate to prove to her family that her decision all those years ago to defy them and move to Dubai was not in vain.
Nadia is a British of mixed Moroccan and Algerian descent who marries a convert Daniel in London and moves to Dubai with her husband. However, soon after he starts cheating on her and she is left a shell of her previous self with her life falling apart in a strange land with no friends or family. However once she is able to snap out of her self-pity, it is replaced with a desire for revenge and we know that hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
Wracked by loneliness and heartache, Nadia connects with her sister’s old friend from London, Sugar, who has also recently moved to Dubai. Haunted by demons from her past, she is desperately trying to build a new life for herself. She meets a handsome, intelligent and caring man who rekindles love and hope in her heart, but her past is not letting her move into her present.
Having lived in Abu Dhabi (Dubai’s more boring sister state) for a number of years and visited Dubai numerous times (most recently last year), the book seemed very familiar. I could relate to the cultural references, understand the mindsets described and got excited because I could imagine the scenes described whether it was references to Jumeirah Beach Resort (JBR), Burj al Arab or the numerous malls dotting the city. The other location which almost all characters shared was London and there too the descriptions seemed familiar and I could imagine the characters’ lives whether it was walking through Hyde Park, getting on crowded tubes or living on a council housing estate.
With dramatic twists and turns, sometimes humourous and sometimes horrifying, the lives of all the ‘desperates’ get woven together and the plot moves forward at a fast pace. At times shocking, other times cliched and sometimes over-the-top, Desperate in Dubai is nevertheless a page turner and an entertaining read.
Whenever I visit Pakistan, I never get a chance to blog. Part of the reason is because my trips are really short and I want to spend each moment with family in “real time” mode rather than online. Another reason is that I get really lazy and feel disconnected from my life in London and all activities I associate with living there, including blogging.
This time I’m in Pakistan for over two months, so the first excuse isn’t applicable. As far as the second psychological disconnect is concerned, it doesn’t need to be that way. So this trip, I’ll try my best to blog as often as possible in a series called “Pakistan Diaries”.
I arrived in Islamabad with Elhaan on 7th November and after the first few cranky days when Elhaan was sleep deprived and unsettled, he seems to be adjusting well to both homes now (I’ve been oscillating between my parents’ house and my inlaws’ place).
My biggest nightmare had been to travel alone with Elhaan on the plane. I had stressed about it for over a month before travelling and while preparing for the trip, meticulously packed his baby bag preparing myself for any eventuality. My worst case scenario was that he won’t sleep and I’d have to walk with him for 8 hours on the flight. Thankfully that didn’t happen and for the most part, he slept and behaved well (it’s another story that I had to keep him in my lap for 6 of the 8 hours). My other nightmare, which unfortunately did come true, was Elhaan doing a poo and having to clean a wriggling baby in the tiny airplane toilet. I’ll spare you the details, but let’s just say that somehow I had my nerves intact and managed to perform that feat as well as I could.
Since we’ve arrived, Elhaan has been showered with attention and is being spoiled by doting family members. He’s enjoying his carseat-free rides and being carried around by numerous uncles and aunts. I’m struggling though to keep control over his feeding and realize that advice is always well-intentioned and also, that I don’t always have to take it. For example, my decision to not put salt and sugar in Elhaan’s food is looked at with surprise and mild skepticism by women who have raised numerous (healthy) children. That’s no surprise given Pakistan is one of the largest consumers of sugar in the world and low-sodium diets are meant for old ailing grandparents not healthy children. I realize that doctors aren’t always right and medical advice keeps changing every few years, so I’m willing to be flexible at times, but for the most part I like to err on the side of caution and moderation.
The highlight of my trip has been my sister’s nikkah ceremony. It’s hard to believe she’s married! We had a traditional Pathan segregated ceremony at home with just close family. She looked stunning in a green beautifully embroidered outfit which her mother-in-law had brought for her (her inlaws trace their roots to Uzkekistan and the colour green is an Uzbek tradition for wedding dresses). I was able to really participate in the ceremony and help out at home as I didn’t have to constantly look after Elhaan. He was happy being carried around by my cousins and uncles. That’s one of the best parts of being in Pakistan: I can hand over my baby to other family members while I get a little bit of time to myself. After the nikkah, we decided to have a girls’ night out and took my sister to dinner to a really nice Thai restaurant. I left Elhaan with my parents for a few hours. Since his birth, it was the first time I’d been able to step out of the house at night without him. I feel more alive and like my old self here rather than constantly being a “mother” with a baby on my hip at all times.
The historical PTI Jalsa (rally) has not only shaken many big mouthed veterans in the political arena but most importantly seemed to have kindled a political lamp in the hearts of many a muted-but-concerned citizens of Pakistan. That really means something. It was inspiring to read the running commentary of the Jalsa, on social media, by youngsters who normally shy away from political circles. Many attendees of the Jalsa I know never attended a political rally in the past.
PTI deserves a big applause on achieving this moment of glory, as Tamreez puts it, but a BIG question looms in my mind. Is it really PTI that I should applaud or the lone efforts and leadership qualities of one person, and that is of course Imran Khan?
Going with the cricket analogy, that Imran Khan so often reverts to, I would like to ask: Who are the Wasims and Waqars of his bowling attack and when are we going to see the likes of Zaheer Abbas, Miandad, Saeed Anwar and Inzi strengthening his batting line-up? or maybe the plan is simply to pull off another 1992?
No doubt, 1992 was one of the rare victories in our history. But why is it that we are yet to repeat that feat? It is because we failed to nourish leadership in our ranks; solid batsmen in our batting line up who are consistent; our bowlers, although incredibly talented like Shoaib and Amir, lacked that vigour and vision or know-how of winning matches and you all have seen their careers.
I fear that Imran Khan might fall into the same trap as others did in the past in Pakistan. What PTI really needs is ‘Leaders’, like Imran Khan, who can rally the same support as he can and sadly I don’t know anyone else in PTI who can. We have seen enough of history repeating itself. I know it sounds idealistic but we should aim towards a “solution”, rather than a one-off victory, that stays solved for some time.
My request to Imran Khan is that he should let his other party leaders also stand with him in the front-line (they are not visible enough); get them seen and heard by the masses and make them leaders who know how to WIN. I think a true leader is the one who knows how to nurture leadership. If we are to challenge the big guns, that’s what parties like PTI should focus on. It is the only way to get somewhere in winning some stake in the 342-seat parliament. It’s all fair that Imran Khan has something to offer that’s better than other politicians but when it comes to elections what matters is who wins the most seats in the parliament. Does PTI have enough blood? That remains a question.
Saying all that, Imran Khan certainly seems to have scored high in the books of one influential entity in Pakistani politics: media. The media has become one of the most powerful stakeholders in Pakistani political affairs and I really believe they will decide who wins the next election, even more so than the army and intelligence agencies. No wonder stakes are high for the top anchors and some of them happily shift from channel to channel. PTI probably has no such influence yet but the last couple of days belonged to Imran Khan and finally his true entry into Politics (in the words of Sheikh Rashid of AML). Although MQM had a rally on the same day and that did try to steal the limelight but PTI’s Jalsa got a lot of post-Jalsa media mileage. The terminology used in the news tickers on various channels and by the analysts/anchors certainly hinted an inclination towards supporting his campaign for the next elections or it was probably just a frustration of the long standing PPP-Nawaz partnership. Let’s see if Imran’s bowling attack has the depth it needs to break that partnership.
The run up to the next elections cannot be more exciting and I hope the sleeping giant (the Pakistani public) finally wakes up.
When was the last time you felt excited about Pakistani politics? I really can’t remember. But watching Imran Khan’s historic jalsa yesterday I felt a thrill similar to what I had felt watching the events unfolding in Tahrir Square a few months ago. Could this be the start of a Pakistani revolution? I don’t know, but PTI would have us believe so.
It was heartwarming to see that families had come even with young children, putting aside security concerns. Celebrities were there to add glitz and glamour to the proceedings, leading some critics on Twitter to question whether this was a political gathering or a concert. Shehzad Roy was a hit and Strings’ performance of “mein bhi dekhoun ga” worked really well on the crowds, but what brought tears to my eyes was the good ol’ qaumi taraana. And it must’ve been for romantics like me that they played the national anthem twice in the proceedings.
After hours of speeches and song performances, finally Imran Khan took to the stage. I guess people’s expectations had been built to unrealistic levels by the historic venue, massive size of the crowd and the long wait. While there was some substance, a few cricket inspired puns and a bit of wit, overall it was obvious that oratory is not one of Imran Khan’s many talents. Fortunately, on the personality front his star status and charisma somewhat compensates for this. If only he could hire a great Urdu speech writer and improve his speaking skills, we could have our own desi Obama.
Yesterday’s jalsa was historic in more ways than one. Not only was it the largest crowd ever gathered by PTI, it was perhaps also one of the largest ever convened at Minar-e-Pakistan. Also significant was that the PTI crowd was at least a few tens of thousand stronger than that which gathered just two days prior to hear Shahbaz Sharif speak.That’s saying a lot given Punjab is a PML(N) stronghold.
On a more superficial, yet significant note, never before have we seen the urban westernized youth attending a political rally in droves as it did yesterday (commentators have been using the term “jeans wearing” and “English speaking” to describe them). Their presence was significant for two reasons: First, this segment of society, epitomized in depictions such as ‘Slackistan’, is known more for its apathy than activism. Second, and more importantly, the youth comprises about 70% of Pakistan’s population and Imran Khan has been pinning his hopes on them, even dedicating his latest book to them. Many of them would be first time voters in 2013 and if someone can tap into this vote bank, it could really be a game changer.
I purposefully don’t go into policy, strategies and substance in this post. PTI achieved yesterday’s milestone after 15 long years of struggle. So before we ask hard-hitting questions and poke holes in their agenda and policies (or lack thereof), let us allow them this moment of glory. It is only fair.
No matter what one’s misgivings about Imran Khan and his party, one thing cannot be denied: Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf (PTI) has finally arrived.
Ok one thing I’ve realized is: mothers WHINE. We whine a lot. And it doesn’t matter how experienced or inexperienced the mother is. I whine about my kid. My mother whines about her girls. Heck, even my grandmothers are always whining about their children! But here’s the other thing: it makes us feel good and most importantly, it makes us feel like we’re not alone.
I was talking to my friend Hareem today, whose daughter is almost 9 months. At one point in our whinefest, I started laughing because I realized how ridiculous we sounded. And I was advising her on things that I’m usually whining about myself and vice versa. She sounded exactly as I do when I go on and on in the evening to Asim about how tired I am; how I’m not doing anything with my life; I want to get back to work; I want a break; I want this I want that….what if this, what if that.
And after all that whining was over, I looked at Elhaan and felt a surge of love, even though he had managed to completely drench himself from his sippy cup in the few minutes that I hadn’t been looking at him. What would normally have resulted in despair at the prospect of changing his clothes yet again, was instead met with pleasure.
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