Alif Biri Jalebi Khanum

my medical family business

2008-11-29T21:36:00.015+05:00

When someone says they have a 'family business,' its looked down upon by the people of our generation and, might I be so daring as to add, we feel a twinge of jealousy too.

What is it about a self-made man who doesn't have his family/father's money to finance the finest of education, and who struggles to find himself, not taking the 'easy way out' and jumping on the family bandwagon which makes him better?

I know a girl, who's father gifted her an entire tv station on her birthday, to run. The eldest was given more responsibility in the form of an advertising agency, and finally the youngest (atleast 4 years my junior) was given a radio channel...

(Most of) our parents struggled, and moved their way up the ladder, by working and sacrificing their pleasures to invest in our future...So that our starting point in this world, opportunity-wise would be above what they had.

We have grown up amidst their numerous financial skirmishes, and their angst while striking a balance between what they could give us so we wouldn't feel inferior and yet trying to keep our values intact..."jitni bari chaader hai, utnay pair phey-lao." I can't recall the English version of that mahavara, but I'll put it in when it emerges from my mind's blind spot.

I guess we feel that because our parents had to slog it out, not being their own bosses, and we had to bear the brunt of their misdirected frustrations which they couldn't express at work; they had to be subservient to some complexed idiots whims and commands...We think the only way to have had them happier when we were growing up, is if they were their own bosses.

I don't know if thats true...I myself have no family business (as is obvious from the bias this blog puts forth), and am proud of my parents contribution to society, and our family.Yet, I can't say I resent or hate people with family businesses' either, though I do assume they weren't privy to such fretting as was ours to bear.

When joining medical school, I was more than idealistic...I was enthralled by the fact that I would be my own boss (ofcourse with all

due respect to my patients, who I am to serve,) I would make my own decisions, and that I would fix/mend/heal with my bare hands. The bare simplicity of that, still gives me quite a rush and a shiver.

Post my first, big exam, (which I did very well on, thank you) it turned out, everyone except me had quite an accurate idea of what was going to come on the exam. It wasn't because everyone got a cheat sheet that I didn't (though that is a blog for another day,) it was because everyone's sibling/parent/cousin had told them what to expect...'Expect' being a mild word, considering the predictions of the paper were nearly perfectly accurate (highlighting another problem with our outdated education systems, which haven't changed since their British inception.)

Before I proceed with the main topic of this blog, I intend to veer into a dank and stale corner. This corner; some have visited surreptitiously mumbling explanations, but it is one that most frequent with a prepossessed swagger of entitlement. The Cheating Corner. I'm not talking about the conventional type, but the 'paper-out' type. A phrase indigenous to us, almost necessary to our survival. Afterall, why follow someone else's system? Especially considering that system is skewed towards accurately guaging only one type of intelligence. (This one is for fun.) I have never cheated unfortunately. Maybe because I took myself too seriously in medical school, but then there are three types of 'people-who-dont-cheat':

don't cheat for themselves but let others copy off them
believe that if they aren't cheating, then no one ought to, and ignore cheaters
believe that if they aren't cheating, then no one ought to, and tattletale as well

I chose the #1. because:

I didnt want to be hated (#2, #3 are generally bitched about behind their back)
I didn't have the self-confidence #2 and #3 types do to justify their behaviour
I would often curse myself (during a particularly tough exam) for painting myself into a corner, and then think of throwing caution (see: self-imposed discipline) to the wind and cheating, but then I would think there were other times I should've done so too, and since I hadn't, I wasn't being fair to those instances in my past by cheating this time. (see: neurotic long-winded dilemmas.)

So, the 'paper-out' variety of cheaters were all around me, all through medical university. (Yes, teachers are involved in this, ofcourse.) And the first time I was offered a paper, I honestly thought about why I should or should not take it. Reevaluated. And I graduated from a school level of #1 to university level of #1 with another level... I didn't take even one paper, but I didn't prevent/look down upon others who did. Why did I make this choice?

Okay, bear with me for a minute...

I felt that if I took the paper, then I would surely achieve my Doctor status, but once there, if there was a patient dying infront of me, I wouldn't know what to do, unless the previous time I was under stress and made to recall what to do I hadn't known the answer. Stressful conditions heighten recall.Fact.(Feel like you need a link?Here's a do-it-yourself link)

So I didn't, because I feared later I would kick myself for taking the short-cut. But others argued that the system was so messed up anyway; the teachers were giving the papers out as the papers were too tough to solve, the English too awful to understand, and a cut-off/upper limit to the number of people allowed to pass/paper. Therefore, it would only make sense for everyone to take the paper, so everyone is once more on the same ground (fair and even.)

Moral relativity.

Icky.Sticky.

While you stand in The Cheating Corner, from the corner of your eye, you may be able to make out where I was going with 'family business.' I apologize if the movement of my blog in your periphery is too slow for your brain to process and your eyes to want to jump to... but, after my first major exam, I started asking around to see just how many people had a doctor in the family.

I was the only person in a class of 170 who had NO relative that was a doctor.

Everyone else was becoming a doctor to inherit/carry on the family business or follow in the footsteps of someone related to them.

Medicine is very competitive field. It was a field predominantly men would take on. Women were not expected to pursue the leisure of such a commitment. Nor interact with a spectrum of other males in all sorts of immodest situations. The cream of the class could/can? only qualify for medical school.

Now, the ratio of females:males is roughly 4:1 in medical universities. I kid you not.And yet we have less doctors. So I asked many girls in my class why they were doing medicine? Was it a dream of theirs? Were they very driven? Were they even going to practice? And pray tell, how were they going to juggle being a doctor with family/marriage responsibilities?

Majority of the girls who completed their M.B.B.S and Housejob will never practice.

So why do medicine to begin with? Majority of the answers were:

Because my grades were good enough for me to do so
Its my father's/parents dream that one child should have the title Dr.
I will join my father's/uncles'/brothers practice...as a dermatologist/part time physician
AND THE WINNER IS: bhaee meri toh shaadi ho jaey gi aur pata nahi agar mein practice karoungi ya nahi, laikin meray parents kehtay hain, MBBS wali larkiyan SUB SEH shareef hoti hain...(Translation: my parents wanted to squander time, and didn't want me getting ideas/needs/wants of my own, so they put me in MBBS until a good rishtaa came along to deliver me from them and them from me.)

So apparently, because there is so much work/studying in MBBS...This is the perfect medium to culture the ideal bahoo in. She will only study during MBBS, not have time to cultivate any interests in the opposite gender, social life, or heck even argue too much with the family regarding her rights. (See: low self-esteem in medical students.)

Most of the boys who were in my class were going to inherit their father's dialysis clinic, radiology lab, hospital, teaching post...No jokes.

If you want to be a doctor in this country and for this country, then make damn well sure that you don't go in thinking you can be 'a self-made' person. I am struggling to find my footing yet. I do not want to migrate to another country, I became a doctor to serve my people. And I wistfully yearn for a hospital I could inherit and feed my passion into...

We live in hard times, where the only way we can afford a place of our own, (at a young age) is if our parents can leave us some wealth/land...We live in a time where doctors may be a dime a dozen, but only ones with family businesses will go on to practice...

I feel like the medical profession currently unfolds to Hurt

I hurt myself today

To see if I still feel
I focus on the pain
The only thing that's real
The needle tears a hole
The old familiar sting
Try to kill it all away
But I remember everything

[Chorus:]
What have I become
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know goes away
In the end
And you could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt

I wear this crown of thorns
Upon my liar's chair
Full of broken thoughts
I cannot repair
Beneath the stains of time
The feelings disappear
You are someone else

I am still right here

If I could start again
A million miles away
I would keep myself

I would find a way"

Efforts to revise the GGG

2008-11-25T13:59:00.008+05:00

GGG

needs to be revised. It seems in one year Saudi jumped up(or down, depending which way you look at it,) 1.5%. (dear verification junkies click here for 2007 and here for 2008 report.)

For those who require a translation of factoids into local currency, last year we were worse off than The Kingdom of Saudi Arabia, as far as gender equality goes, and now, we are BETTER off than them!

Don't get all uppity just yet;consider the options (keep in mind the big W humans are supposed to do) Either:

(a) Pakistan has been striving diligently at improving that gap, and over the past year has made that difference...yes we can!?

(b) Saudi Arabia has determinedly been pushing its way down the list, they took notes from us, and alas beat us at one of our specialties.

(c)splice and dice options (a) and (b) toss them around with other variables(the list has shortened) and make a lovely khichri

Well, I for one was very excited to open the newspaper today and see the article about The Accolade

I'm very excited for them girls, but also scared for them...If only music was the way to win the crazy saudi's hearts'.

Our brilliant duo are doing work of their own, and luckily don't have the restrictions their Muslim counterparts in Saudi have to work with...and there is a list of our own if you are interested.

*objectivity alert: I am quite aware as to the obvious laziness gone into this blog's construction.*

conspiracy wrapped paan

2008-11-19T22:00:00.008+05:00

After our ritualistic Sunday broast & Pakola feast, we settled down aalti-paalti.

sarcasm slaked conversation.

a round of chai on its way to polish things off and for those of us hoping to 'cut down on the fat' some sabz chai...

the brown paper packets with maroon stains make the rounds amidst audible sipping

saada-khushboo in the prison stripes of used printer paper

meetha in josheelay rung-barung crinkles of metallic paper

take your pick.

the children usually opt for the assault of flourescence, and if you want to raise a few eyebrows in the adults' circle, you take a baroun kaa paan...saada-khushboo...and to dismiss the skeptics and show you mean business; if you throw in a scoff about how you prefer "kuti hui chaaliya" establishes maturity. I tasted a saada-khushboo once and immediately ran to perform my first unintentional and unambitious pichkari into the sink...

My myopic eyes, used to their hazy drifting, settle on busy, pure font (not the fancy ones we use) on the saada paan wrapper.

A great place to rid yourself of cumbersome paperwork which accounts for all the 7 and 8 digit numbers unaccounted for elsewhere.

Drop off your dirty money documentation to a paan waala, and sell it to him no less, to wrap his saada-khushboo paans in.

khushboo kahaan seh aaee iss mein?

The Very Best of Traffic

2008-11-11T18:59:00.022+05:00

*right-click on the caption, open it in a new tab, and enjoy the automatic music, while reading

blatting

bleating

barking

beckoning

metal and glass beasts, pass so close that the air around me feels like a puddle of mercury does in my hand.

soft fragile animals hiding in the belly of our beasts, a perfect union, as we hurtle unchecked.

In the midst of this, I felt the stirrings of a blog willing itself into existence.

Now though, only soggy dregs surface

Life's lessons writ on his livelihood: his

Rickshaa

{What it says on the Rickshaa on the left (Roughly translated): "everyone claims to be a relative when you have/are something,

They break; the relations, that are dear/special, in poverty"}

Other rickshaas had more playful, yet cynical (of course, all our humor has a characteristic cynical texture to it)

One the back of one Rickshaa, "baraa ho keh mei Toyota banoungaa"

which means, "I'll grow up to be a Toyota"

Weary of the obscene display of wealth, a Rickshaa owner painted boldly on the back of his engine powered pride "PRADO"

Another, probably the winner of the many rickshaa races held on Saturday, challenged "cacth me if U cn" (catch me if you can)

Solve this one:

"How do you fit a pair of goats and a pair of grown men in the back of a Rickshaa?"

contrary to the way it seems, its not a joke. Nor is it a trick scenario which would play on triggering your assumptions, whilst skipping on water...I've seen it happen, and I wish I could share the picture in my mind with you, it makes you believe nature uses photoshop too.

and my pet peeve is not that you break a traffic light, nor that you don't break it, but that (on the ones with the countdown) you are patient, almost serene at 14 seconds left, but somehow, only 7 seconds drives you bonkers, and you have to tear off like you've discovered its the countdown of a bomb about to detonate.

{caption of the suzuki on the right: it says: "no late, no wait"}

I still gawk and judge the parents of the 9 year old driving a car/motorbike with others even younger than him...He drives with the air of a strutting peacock; and yet I wonder if it truly is so simple as being 'WRONG' if :

a) The child has to take his mother (who cannot drive, and was moved from the jail of her parents home, to that of her husbands) to the shops, or is trying to facilitate her getting somewhere because he is soft toward her demands, unlike her husband, who will thrash this 'need' rubbish out of her...Theirs' is a shared freedom and delight...fleeting.secret.

b) The adults can't provide, therefore burdening their children with responsibilities, far beyond what they should do in their supposed (see: idealistically unrealistically unheard of) 'tender years.' So if they get adulthood thrust upon them, it only makes sense if they take the bits of adulthood which liberates them and they can enjoy as well...doesn't it? Fair is fair.

{caption of photo above: the great divide: an exclusive, rare flower boutique, versus. a common, street urchin phool wala.}

the YOU in Unanimous

2008-11-07T18:31:00.008+05:00

This book overtook my expectations by a long shot.

(For those of you who have not read the book, and do not like even bits of a book discussed {though I'm not going to give anything away} STOP READING THIS blog entry.)

Okay I think I've provided your eyes with enough negative space to choose to stop reading if you please, so I can continue, now that I feel I am no longer keeping you unwittingly.

Got me thinking, when its mentioned as to how we had different words for God: Allah, God, Maula, Khuda...And then all except Allah have been frowned upon so severely in every aspect of our life, at every level, that now its almost as if we're commiting a sin against God...I mean Allah (haha, I swear that was a reflex, to feel apologetic, because God and Allah have completely different contexts apparently. I've been told there is only one Allah but many Gods'!?)

The reason I mention this is not a religious one. It did, however, get me thinking that there is so much we don't agree on...even words in the same language (let alone agreeing on ONE language, which is a whole other story, countless others' have opined exhaustively on, surely.)

Which other such word conflicts come to mind?

Please feel free to contribute to this list:

shakr/cheeni

hum/mei

hai-ga/hai

humra/hamara

tumra/tumhara

kittay ka/kitnay ka

karra/kiya

bola/kaha

rakabi/plate (even in Urdu)

kai ko/kyuun

being a few such examples. the gray/grey(...haha) ones' you will note supposedly belong to 'khalees Lucknowi Urdu' and their counterparts are supposedly very 'common' and 'ordinary' if you catch my drift.

It could be argued they are just harmlessly synonyms...but if so, why does saying one in the company of one who uses the other lead to prejudices bubbling?

Afterall, we've all come from different parts and deserve our own dialects and adaptations...or do we?

Can shaded pidgins ever give birth a pure breed?

And creole ever bring the colorful cheer of crayola?

I'd like to end this with some humour which will always make me giggle like a child:

A cook would ask his old, lady begum what to cook in the morning.

Not being good with recipes, he'd ask her

"baji *insert ingredient of choice* paaduun?"

and every day, she'd respond effusively"AS-TAGHFIR ULLLAH!" and then continue giving instructions calmly, knowing fully well what he had actually meant...

Incase you are wondering...

He meant "paa duun" (put it)

*If you are rolling your eyes/raising your eyebrows/shaking your head/scoffing at that, then please 'relieve some pressure' on that pretentious level of your humor*

See sNap see. See Superman Soar. SOAR SUPERMAN SOAR!

2008-10-30T18:22:00.007+06:00

Bijli went. decadent/dreary dance ensues...

Slide fuel handle down,

make the generator giggle,

until it emits a deep, belly roar;keep tickling its starter.

fuel handle back to resting now,

enthusiastic thumb-punch at the big red button...

house phased.

viola!

eyes drift up at the sky and there he is.

Superman!

Face to face with his fabled, gargantuan nemesis,
A nemesis with eyes that see us all,
A face only a mother can love,
A face that inspires a mixture of

fear/fancy,
lust/loathing,
disgust/devotion

in us all...

yet, my superman will slay the evil one

and yet I shudder to think without one,
the other would not exist...

i close my eyes and wish it wasn't so and wish it wasn't so and wish it wasn't so.

Oh how I wish he was just painting parts of the sky into sky...

*denial sets in*

he's with God Inc. and he's making our skies bluer.

*****sigh.

khaana akimbo

2008-10-30T14:44:00.004+06:00

boat basin.nightlife extraordinaire.

eating together brings us closer.

jis haath seh khaatay ho uss haath ko ulag rakho.

ultaa haath khanay keh liey istemaal kia toh khana seedha shehtaan keh paith mei chalay jaey ga.

my chicken is trying to escape.

kut-a-kut-kut-ta-kutkutkut

the others hang forlorn...characterless.

i love my chicken which will soon be part of me.

bhaag bhaag.

hungry now.

of monkeys and men

2008-10-27T19:18:00.006+06:00

*disclaimer: If you feel that in order for a bloggers views to be considered valid, it ought to have numerous links and references, then do not continue reading...because I do not offer "me too!" links to legitimize my views.*

It is oft quoted that simians are 98.4% doppelgangers at the genetic level. Its probably the first issue addressed in "The Secret: a scientists guide." (before you google that mindlessly, think:"REALLY? Come on, REALLY? Am I THAT gullible?")

So we've extensively researched, shamelessly indulging our sensibilities and flaunting our superiority about how that 0.6% is our trump card.

But what we often don't look into is how in some ways being worse than other simians helped us evolve past them...Because its true. (yes, okay GO GOOGLE IT...you bay-sharam addict.)

When it comes to imitation, all primates; with the exception of us, have been referenced (even in our every day life) as 'minic(ing) slavishly, often absurdly.'

But ironically, (and empirically,) it has been shown, that humans' aping is far surperior to...well apes aping abilities...Our hairier halves find the quickest, most efficient way to achieve their goal, as well as adapt more efficiently to new situations, whereas we imitate almost mindlessly.

Or is it THAT mindless? True, to get from point A to B if you detour via C and take a breather at D, it seems silly (my monkey counterpart would agree here;) but by imitating has that made us identify,"walk in eachothers shoes," and finally made us more tolerant by performing rites which serve no obvious purpose, except to please?

I'd like to add an unabashed opionion here...For those of you who read the above and scoffed at the part equating 'humans' with 'tolerant,' would you agree, that the above inference would thereby also imply that globally, our current lifestyle preaches becoming better 'apes' than 'human'?

If I lost you there, don't feel bad, I was going en route points C and D. Let it go...

So anyway, my point was, that by imitating eachother, we have developed better "people skills" than monkeys do...And this actually helped us evolve (maybe we worked together at some point regardless of physical appearence...seems like a long shot doesn't it?) because as long as monkeys found quicker ways to do a task, they needn't trouble their minds with 'the big W'

no, not 'Withdrawal,' I mean 'Why'...Because a monkey's sole purpose is to achieve the goal at hand, they find a way to reward themselves more efficiently...Whereas despite mimicing better, we wonder why, because our sense of reward is not as highly developed as theirs is (fact.)

*irrelevant tangent: Is our sense of suffering therefore more highly developed? I ask only because we find ourselves more drawn to adversity, we relate to it more, and believe in the 'reality' of it more than reward*

Humans have shown to exhibit a sense of wonder toward why objects often interact with eachother the way they do, from the age of 18 months...meaning we have a sense of physics...which again is unique only to us.

I don't have a central point of cohesion around the corner of this next sentence...but all this made me wonder if our thought process has in fact even evolved?

Another thing I noticed about monkeys' is: the alpha male has a female, who is regarded his first lady comparable even if he has his Lewinskys' on a need basis...But what struck me was that the alpha male got the best of the batch...and I dub her (unoriginally) alpha female...

Thats how it was meant to be...even in our elite hairless sub-sapien selves. Yet, of late there has been a very obvious shift in the natural order of things (atleast in my city...) There are more and more alpha females who are markedly territorial in ways the alpha male used to be, and...(here's the kicker...) these females prefer submissive males to complement their aggressive alpha female tendencies...Is this a part of a local evolutionary jump? Or is it an aberration?

Perception after the fact...human philosophy

Go figure.

what comes naturally

2008-09-30T20:59:00.013+06:00

Having spent 5 years at a university where I was labeled 'fast' (taiz) because I spoke English too easily, considered 'dim' (ghaili) for being open to criticism and not a hardliner "just because" , and dismissed as 'irksome' (takallufi) because I believe in giving people space to find their own comfort level, I know only; how to be on the outside looking in.

I fret.

Is my perception permanently ketamine flavored?

or am I, as a human angel dusted?

time

2008-08-16T05:17:00.001+06:00

skidding giddily slippery as watermelon seeds.

Labored awareness of breathing in the forced silence of rural life through urban nares.

"Jaan:"

2008-08-16T05:07:00.004+06:00

for the simple understated necessity it employs,

   for placing atop enviable heights,
yet familiar like dew bitten earth to the senses,

   bare
   embarrassing
   vulnerability.

miles between smiles

2008-08-16T04:36:00.001+06:00

Waxing courses Waning remorses.

Regularly irregular Instilled stillness.

Tight lipped tulips.Gaily aggressive.

Soften often.
Tickled fickle.

Sending and ending.

alone

2008-08-16T04:23:00.001+06:00

Comfort numbingly bitter.
She misses the intoxication of her commitment,
the astonishment by her own undying faith.
Faded.
Grainy.
Paper.
Imperfection...glaring back.

waiting

2008-08-16T03:58:00.001+06:00

Return.Expectant flutterbys.
Time slew me. Patience my captor.
Wishing hours melt like salt in water.
Lemons and oranges.Bitten daggers.

Globes of reason flattened.

pregnant with the monsoon

2008-08-16T02:51:00.001+06:00

Viscid honey days.
In pace and hue.

A caught fly
b
r
e
a
t
h
ing this air that's heavily sodden cotton.

Skin.
Sheen.
Moisture coated glow.
close,
c r a c k e d
mosaic skin.

30-08-07 21:43:35

2008-07-31T18:45:00.001+06:00

Is there a word for what dreams are made of whilst being awake? Is there a word for forgetting memories which alter now? Is there a word for moving on and walking back to you?

Sax & the City

2008-07-31T18:32:00.002+06:00

If karachi sounded like an instrument, it would be a saxophone reminiscing. Quintessential dirty alleys etched with blunt smoke and urban tracings...rendering it under filters of black and white.

we are all undertones, in shades of gray.