The sun had just risen and cast a golden-red light on the the beach at Mubarak Goth — a fishing village located in Deh Mann, Karachi.

A light wind blew across the aqua-green waters of the Arabian Sea. The tethered boats of the fishermen, bobbed up and down in eager anticipation of the immeasurable possibilities the new day would bring.

It was an impromptu introduction to Majeed. He, along with his assistant Qasim were scheduled to leave shortly to inspect their fishing nets for lobsters and haul in any fish. He agreed to take me on board on one condition; that I must follow every instruction. I gave him my word. During the course of our interaction, I fondly called him Chacha Majeed.

Chacha Majeed, Qasim and a few more fishermen got on to his boat by wading waist deep in the water from the shore. The other fishermen used his boat as a vehicle to get onto their own since they were tethered at a deeper point.

Chaca Majeed transports other fishermen to their boats.

Chacha Majeed pulls a tethered line to reach the other boats.

His boat was a humble and small one. At just 18 feet long and four feet wide, it was only big enough to host three people in deeper waters. For my own safety, Chacha Majeed told me to sit in the thwart or the middle of the boat. After the other fishermen disembarked from the swaying boat, Qasim started the engine and lowered the propeller. The three of us began to motor forward into the sea where Qasim and Majeed had placed their nets the previous day.

The morning light began to turn brighter, but the sea breeze kept things cool for us. Chacha Majeed sat next to me. “Our forefathers were shepherds thousands of years ago. Wherever it rained, they would travel to pasture lands to graze their cattle. Eventually, they settled in this village and switched to fishing.”

The fishermen of Mubarak Village refer to the sea as darya laal which means 'red river'. It holds a sacred importance since they are dependent on it for food and sustenance.

Chacha Majeed said that at first they would use sticks to catch fish from the river. After some time they learnt to make fishing nets and sail boats. They mapped out the waters around the village based on the kind of fish they harboured and their lifecycle of breeding and movement in between the seasons. This knowledge was then transferred to them down through the generations.

The wind picked up and the boat charged ahead bobbing up and down as it negotiated the rise and fall of the sea waves. At the same time, it drenched all three of us with its cool salty waters.

We reached the first point where the nets had been anchored. Qasim switched off the engine and with the agility of a young man Chacha Majeed headed over to the bow of the boat to haul in the first net.

With strong arms and youthful energy Chacha Majeed hauls in the first net before Qasim joins him.

The fishermen use flags of different colors to mark the locations of the respective owner’s net. As they hauled it into the boat, the net reflected the morning light and created a silvery white glimmer.

In about 10 minutes, Qasim and Chacha Majeed loaded the first net onto the boat. At the end, Qasim pulled up the anchor which was made up of huge stones tied together. They acted as weights which allow the nets to stay underwater. Qasim headed to the stern of the boat to start the engine once again in order to move towards the second net.

Chacha Majeed sat down to untangle the fish from the web of the fine net. “I began fishing when I was 14 years of age and I’ve been doing this for more than 40 years. In the beginning we would use sails on our boat. We’d leave early in the morning before sunrise and come back around sunset.”

The hills play an important role for the fishermen of the village. They act as points of reference to estimate the depth of the water. As the hills gradually submerge under the water, the fishermen know that they are now in deeper waters.

“We would go far into the river till the hills on the land can no longer be seen. The depth of the water at those points would be around 100 guz (one guz is equal to 30 feet).”

Chacha Majeed's wrinkled foot.

He continued, “We would catch sua, mongra and surmaai. Sua was very valuable and was used for medicinal purposes. It would be sold up to Rs. 200,000. Now you don’t catch them anymore. The last time I caught one was 10 years ago. These wire waalay and gujay waalay overfish in these waters causing these fish to die off prematurely and sometimes, permanently.”

He was referring to the big and small fishing trawlers that use wire nets that have small openings. Their nets sweep across the seabed trapping the smaller fish which are essential for the survival and breeding of the bigger fish and to maintain the marine food chain.

A small trawler heads out into the ocean to fish.

Qasim also showed me the different kinds of fish and crabs that were caught in their net.

Crab — the first one of the day.

Qasim shows a fish that is known locally as Saang.

After he finished removing the fish that were caught in the first net, Qasim shut the engine. Both men began to pull the second net onto the boat.

One of the other fishermen from the village passes us as they head out to the location of their nets.

After removing the fish from the second net, we were ready to move to the third location. Up until now they had caught about three kilos of various fish. They had not caught any lobsters yet. But luck was in their favour and they went on to catch three; two in the third net and one in the fourth.

Chacha Majeed had caught one the previous day and together the four lobsters were weighed to be around half a kilo. The selling price in the market for a kilo of lobster is around Rs. 1500. These lobsters are exported across South East Asia.

Sometimes the nets get tangled in the rocky seabed and a strong yank is required to dislodge it.

Chacha Majeed shows a lobster trapped in their net.

After cleaning their nets Chacha Majeed and Qasim went back to each of the three points in the sea and placed them back in the waters. Once the bow was clear, Chacha Majeed organised the catch into two sacks. One would be sold and the other would be divided between Qasim and himself.

Qasim places the nets back into the sea.

Qasim places a flag with the net to mark their 'territory'.

Chacha Majeed divides the catch between Qasim and himself.

Chacha Majeed sits on the bow of the boat as the three of us head back to the sea shore at Mubarak Village.

Pulling the tethered line, Chacha Majeed takes us closer to the shore.

Over the course of three days Chacha Majeed and Qasim caught about eight kilos of fish – including those that cannot be eaten. It is split between each person.

Chacha Majeed takes a greater share for himself and his family of 11 members. To power the boat they spent about Rs. 500.

On the morning of the second day Chacha Majeed and Qasim wade into the water to get onto their boat.

On the third evening, I went to meet Chacha Majeed. Qasim and him were sitting on the velvety sand and repairing damaged nets. The sun was setting and its golden light bathed them in a soft yellow hue. Their skillful fingers tied the flimsy net deftly to the ropes.

Qasim tightens a knot on his fishing net.

Sitting in the golden light of the setting sun, Chacha Majeed repairs old and damaged nets.

Explaining the relationship between Qasim and himself, Chacha Majeed described it in this way, “Qasim is the conductor and I am the driver of the bus, which in this case is the boat.”

I asked him why he used plastic nets. He replied, “I know they are dangerous and catch fish that we don’t need but we don’t have a choice. Our forefathers would use nets made of cotton.

“Eventually silk nets were introduced followed by these plastic ones. We use these plastic ones specially to catch lobsters. Previously, we caught only fish but after some time the catch wasn’t enough to sustain us.”

Launching a tirade against the free-for-all fishing policy of the Sindh government, Chacha Majeed said that the trawlers fish all year round. During the monsoon season from May to August, it is the breeding time for small fish. They are caught in their fine nets which are then sold as poultry feed. These fish are food for the bigger ones and it hampers their growth and reproduction, hence reducing their numbers.

“We depend on them for our catch and daily food, Chacha said.”

The trawlers are owned by businessmen and leased out to workers who are provided licenses by the Fisheries Department of Sindh. Sometimes these trawlers enter the waters where Chacha has placed his nets. When Chacha ask them to be careful and move away, they threaten him by saying, ‘We will shoot you!’ and continue onward.

Qasim fixes a new net on the beach at Mubarak Village.

He compared the quantity of fish they caught in the past with that of the present. “We would cook one kilo of rice with three kilos of fish. Sometimes we would catch extra and roast it on fire. Today, we cook just a pound of fish and have to mix it with potatoes to increase the quantity. On days when we don’t have rice we eat fish with dates. We don’t fish during the monsoon season. During that time we take loans from our creditors. Once the fishing season begins, we have to pay them back with interest.”

I asked him what his favorite fish was. He smiled and replied, “I like the black and white pomfret. I like them because it is sweet and doesn’t have any fish bones. We don’t catch them in our waters anymore.”

He then remembered that he had to show me his old sail boat. He got up and went to his workshop and I followed him. He said he had bought an old boat and repaired it in three months. It was 50 feet in length and 7 feet wide. Chacha would use the sail and sea winds to navigate the waters for fishing.

Thick planks of wood were the only remnants of the old boat. As Chacha Majeed brushed his hand over them, it felt like with each stroke he reminisced about the fishing voyages of his golden days.

“I eventually had to retire this boat and use a smaller one with an engine.” said Chacha Majeed. “The bigger one is now used to store fishing nets and tools.”

The old sail boat that is now used as a workshop for Chacha Majeed.

Chacha Majeed explains how he repaired the old sail boat.

Chacha Majeed doesn’t want his children to continue in the profession of fishing. I asked him why and he replied, “I fear that the produce from the river will end in my lifetime. With the quantity of fish that we catch these days, I think they it end in the next two or three years. What will we do then? We don’t know how to cultivate the land. They will have to find another livelihood to feed themselves.”

Again, horror in Paris. Bodies are counted, lying on streets. Friends and families make frantic calls, panic spreads. A nation is in trauma. A year that started with the Charlie Hebdo tragedy ends with a new, even more dramatic onslaught.

As events continued to unfold, with dozens dead in shootings and explosions, it was already obvious that the fallout from these attacks would be momentous for the French republic, for its political developments and its social cohesion.

President François Hollande announced a state of emergency; the last time that happened was during the 2005 Paris suburb riots, when violence broke out between young, mostly Muslim or second-generation immigrants and police forces. But the words “state of emergency” relate to, in French historical memory, the Algerian war of the 1960s and the military putsch that had then been attempted.

Also read: Fanaticism — From Peshawar to Paris

The scenes in Paris are ones of a warzone and will be remembered as such. The trauma will be deep and among the many questions that will arise (how could this happen? where were the security lapses?) there will be the expectation of political consequences:

What gains will the far-right Front National make from this?

After Charlie Hebdo, the French Prime Minister Manuel Valls spoke in front of parliament of a country “at war”. He added that France was “not at war with Islam” and that was a signal to the Muslim population, Europe’s largest. But those words did not do much to quell the underlying tensions that arose among communities.

It is too early to say what happened exactly – one media report claimed an assailant shouted “this is for Syria” before he opened fire. Hollande spoke of “terrorists”, saying on national TV: “We know who these people are”.

The attacks were certainly well prepared – all in one night and in different locations where many people were bound to have gathered.

The Bataclan is a popular concert hall, packed on a Friday evening. Another attack, near the Stade de France football stadium, where a match between France and Germany was taking place, with Hollande in attendance, is another strong symbol.

Also read: Paris’ Bataclan theatre — From music venue to killing ground

Targets were clearly thought through. That kind of psychological impact, the fear that is being sown across the nation, on top of the human tragedy of the dead and wounded in Paris, will be long lasting.

Security experts kept warning after Charlie Hebdo that more threats would surface from violent jihadi groups connected to Islamic State or other entities. But nothing of this magnitude, in the heart of the capital, had ever been mentioned as a possibility.

France has been for years now, a military power deeply involved in countering jihadi terrorism: mostly in the Sahel since January 2013, when it launched an operation in Mali which then encompassed neighbouring African states.

Several thousand French troops continue operations there, with airstrikes that regularly kill. Since 2014, it has been part of the anti-Isis coalition in Iraq; this year, it widened that effort to strikes on Syrian territory (although in small numbers).

France is one of the European countries from which hundreds of Isis recruits, often French-born and educated and sometimes converts, have travelled to Syria. Online radicalisation has been growing – a phenomenon not unlike a sect. A lot of this plugs, of course, into a social and economic context of high youth unemployment, especially in suburbs, and racist discrimination against Arabs and Africans.

Muslims in France will now increasingly fear being associated with fanaticism and terror. Populist, far-right groups may well fuel more hatred.

After Charlie Hebdo, thousands of French soldiers were dispatched across the country to secure key installations, schools, train stations, institutions.

In January, the terrorists who targeted Charlie Hebdo and then a kosher shop, killing journalists, policemen and Jews, led their attacks over a period of three days. A huge popular street demonstration, the largest since Paris was liberated in 1944, was organised the following Sunday, with “Je suis Charlie” slogans.

Also read: Attacks in France since Charlie Hebdo slayings

It will be key for French officials now to send the signals that might prevent the kind of social dislocation and national breakdown that those who orchestrated this latest onslaught are no doubt trying to provoke.

For the wider European scene and the west, what has happened in Paris can only be a watershed and many will see it as a crude, violent, traumatic reminder of the fact we all still live in the post-9/11 era.

—By arrangement with the Guardian.

Who wouldn’t agree that money is one of the ways through which we achieve our desires and enjoy financial security and freedom? Not only that, financial security also gives peace of mind and reassurance that one can withstand difficult times in life.

Everyone has a different connection with money and women face different challenges when it comes to money compared to men.

For example, sometimes women face a glass ceiling in their workplace and have difficulty in promotions. They also take more time off to care for children and the elderly. In spite of these challenges, women can attain financial security and take their finances to the next level by following the tips given below:

Take charge: When you have money it’s always better to take charge of it. A majority of the women in our society even give their inheritance to the male members of their families to be managed by them.

They know little about the investment avenues and have little or no knowledge of the banking procedures involved in them.

When women manage their own money it not only gives them a sense of empowerment but they realise their untapped potentials too. You can always take advice from people who are in business and have more knowledge and experience.

All you need is to keep track of the economy that will enable you to identify different investment avenues such as stocks, bonds, foreign currency, gold and property.

Money brings financial security but you need a smart approach to manage it.

Know your worth: A lot of women not only feel guilty charging for their services / products but they also undercharge.

Whether a woman is offering tuitions at home or selling baked items, it is likely that she is undercharging. Women also accept lower salaries when they go to work for organisations. Therefore, it’s wiser to know to know your worth and not to undersell your services / products.

Earn your financial needs and wants: Suppose you want to buy a particular dress or bag, know exactly how much it’s going to cost and then think of ways to earn that money.

Even if you want to buy a car, have a plan in mind that will enable you to earn that much money. In other words, don’t expect the amount to be given to you.

Don’t take credit from anyone: One advice that Suze Orman, America’s most listened to personal finance expert and author of several bestselling books on personal finance, gives to Americans is to burn those credit cards.

Therefore, one of the ways to attain financial security is that you should never owe anyone money. Even if you have borrowed the money, it should be returned before making any new purchases.

Save before spending: According to Warren Buffet and many other financial experts saving is the corner stone of financial stability.

Everyone should have an emergency savings fund with six to nine months of living saved up. A good way is to save 20 per cent of your earnings every month and spend the rest.

In this manner you will be left with enough money to spend given that you will prioritise what you buy.

Track your money: A good method to know your priorities is to jot down all your monthly expenses. This way you will know which area is your priority and where there is room for economising.

Make a list: When you go to a supermarket, a lot of items allure you, even those that you don’t need. A good idea is to make a list of all the items you need.

The allure of the other items may wane once you leave the supermarket.

Published in Dawn, Sunday Magazine, November 15th, 2015

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Lying in the heart of modern Lahore, a city that became the center of colonial and post-colonial history, is the Gora Kabristan or the white graveyard. Gora here is a euphemism for Christian.

This is the largest Christian graveyard of Lahore and hints at the ethnic diversity that existed in the city since antiquity. This graveyard signifies Christian ethos in the middle of an overwhelmingly traditional Muslim city.

Angels stand guard over the graves. Some cling to the crosses as if waiting for the messiah. A few heads and some wings have fallen off somewhere during this eternal wait. It is here, in this graveyard that the granddaughter of Maharaja Ranjit Singh, the sovereign of Lahore, the ruler of Punjab, is buried. She is Princess Bamba Sutherland, the eldest daughter of Maharaja Daleep Singh.

The grave of Princess Bamba Sutherland. —Photo by Alie Imran

Further down, a regal, three-storey white structure with a magnificent dome on top — the samadh of Ranjit Singh — stands majestically. Next to it, the flag of the Khalsa flutters in the wind representing the Sikh community living there.

The samadh of Ranjit Singh is surrounded by those of his 11 wives who too were burnt on his funeral pyre — a now bygone practice known as Sati where a woman was burnt with the body of her husband.

Within the same complex is the splendid samadh of Guru Arjun, the martyred Guru of the Sikhs. Its gold-plated dome rises from a distance to welcome tourists as they head towards the Fort and the Badshahi Masjid in the same vicinity.

The entrance to the fort faces the samadh of Guru Arjun. This is the hathi darwaza or the Elephant Gate, from whence the King used to enter.

The samadh of Ranjit Singh with the minaret of the Badshahi Masjid visible in the background. —Photo by Bilal Ejaz

Moving further down we see the original boundary wall of the fort, decorated with the elaborate frescoes of elephants, kings, princes and princesses. Erected in between the Sikh samadh and the Mughal Fort is a relatively new divider that was constructed by the British.

The neat little structure serves its purpose, rather sternly, without the aesthetics of either Mughal or Sikh architecture. The wall serves as a symbolic divide between the Mughal history and the Sikh history.

It separates the history of Lahore into the Muslim era — that of the Mughals — and the Sikh era, beginning with Ranjit Singh and ending with Daleep Singh, the last Sikh ruler of Punjab. You’ve probably heard of the British policy of ‘divide and rule’. So have I.

Whenever Indians and Pakistanis feel nostalgic, exhausted by constant bickering over the Kashmir issue, Mumbai terror attacks, insurgency in Balochistan; there is one thing that is likely to end the debate — blaming it all on the British for their ‘divide and rule’ policy.

It is a valid argument, but one that is very misunderstood.

It is not the nefarious plans of the British that led the Muslims, Hindus and Sikhs to cut each other’s throats, but rather the world view of the Raj. The colonials were obsessed with categorisation and generalisation – their modern day paradigm.

Communities, religions, history, culture, language, architecture were divided into three stacks; Hindu, Muslim and Sikh. It was the prototype of the thinking patterns we inherited and continue to possess.

Opposite the Lahore Fort and behind the samadh of Ranjit Singh is the Badshahi Masjid or the Royal Mosque, commissioned by the Mughal King Aurangzeb. Here in its museum is a copy of the Holy Quran written in gold. This copy was part of the Quran collection of Maharaja Ranjit Singh.

On the other side of the road is the shrine of the patron saint of Lahore, Ali Hujwiri, popularly known as Data Darbar. During Ranjit Singh’s dominion, his wife Jind Kaur, the mother of Daleep Singh, ordered the construction of a Quran gallery, where eventually all copies of the holy book that were owned by the Maharaja, were displayed. Later, they became a part of Lahore Museum’s collections.

Maharaja Ranjit Singh was the sovereign of Punjab and ruler of all Sikhs, Hindus and Muslims living here. He became ruler only to the Sikhs, posthumously.

After Daleep Singh signed Punjab over to the British, its history was re-written by the new masters. According to this version, the Muslims — symbolised by the Mughals — killed the Sikh leader, Guru Arjun. The tears that Mian Meer shed on the death of his very close Sikh friend and confidante were erased from record, as it no longer suited the new framework. Ranjit Singh, a Sikh, was projected as the villain desecrating mosques, and the Quran gallery constructed by his wife was hidden under troves of modern history.

A similar situation faces us today. A group of Indians have sued Queen Elizabeth of England to return the Kohinoor diamond to India, which was taken away from Daleep Singh. This too, is another example of neat categorisation of history — a British present to us.

How does India today represent that India from where the Kohinoor was taken?

The Kohinoor belonged to Ranjit Singh whose capital was Lahore, and his empire was predominantly in the area that is now part of Pakistan. Ranjit Singh was born in the Pakistani city of Gujranwala. His last surviving granddaughter, Bamba Sutherland, died a Pakistani.

Then, how can India solely claim the legacy of Ranjit Singh and his Kohinoor? The India of today is as old as Pakistan; both are the offspring of British-India and both are inheritors of the 'Indian civilisation'.

Also read: Bhutto approached UK over Kohinoor: documents

This is not to state that the Kohinoor should come to Pakistan because of geographical connections to the diamond’s history.

Also, it is no secret that Pakistan has repudiated its multi-religious identity for its new national character. We discarded our history and cut off any pre-Islamic, pre-Pakistan ties we had with this land.

A quick glimpse around the country is enough to see the pitiful state of the gurdwaras and temples. India too can be accused of following a similar pattern. The recent renaming of Aurangzeb road in New Delhi is a clear example of the changing face of history — a trend that we Pakistanis are all too familiar with.

Also read: From Aurangzeb to Kalam — Is Delhi rewriting its history?

Another argument could be that Sikhs on both sides of the border truly represent the legacy of Ranjit Singh and hence the Kohinoor. This too is a futile attempt. Ranjit Singh was as much my ruler as he was that of the Sikhs. Muslims generals and ministers were all part of his government. He is a symbol of Punjabi nationalism. He was the first Punjabi king in a thousand years. His legacy is my legacy.

There is no simple solution to this problem. Neither Indians, nor Pakistanis have sole right to the Kohinoor just as Ranjit Singh was not only a Sikh ruler, but the Maharaja of the entire Punjab, and just as Mian Meer was not only a Muslim saint but also a spiritual leader to the Sikhs, for he had helped lay the foundation of the Golden Temple in Amritsar.

There is no doubt that Pakistan, too, needs to be included in the debate on Kohinoor’s return, but how can it champion this cause when for years it has denied its own past?

Also read: What is the most blatant lie taught through Pakistan textbooks?

To be a part of this debate Pakistan would need to accept that its history is not just the history of Muslims in the sub-continent, but of all the people that coexisted here before and with the Muslims.

Pakistan needs to realise and argue that India is not the sole heir to the Indian heritage and should then enter the debate about the Kohinoor’s return, but perhaps, it won’t.

Loss is but a statistic, until it leaps across the fence to the West.

I have no intention of concern-trolling scores of people across the world, who stand in solidarity today with France, offering the wounded nation the warm support it deserves.

This soliloquy, of sorts, is aimed at no one in particular. What I’m addressing, is a system built on an unspoken agreement that some lives have more value than others.

Also read: Drones — One white death can change everything

A series of unconscionable attacks against innocent Parisians on 13th November, instilled among us a profound sense of dread. We watched the death toll rise above a hundred, with the social media imploring us all to pray for Paris.

We didn’t need to be asked. Our hands were already clasped.

In the beginning, few of us had any patience to deal with reflexive ‘Whataboutism’ from insensitive Pakistani social media users.

‘What about Palestine?’ they demanded. ‘What about Iraq?’

But the media hype soon blossomed to a size that no denizen of the third-world may expect for his or her own people.

No ‘Safety checks’ for Beirut

Facebook decided to implement its ‘Safety Check’ feature for Paris; something that’s never been done before for an event, other than a natural disaster.

All over social media, display pictures started getting overlaid by colours of the French flag.

This idea, ostensibly, never occurred to us earlier when twin suicide attacks shook Beirut, killing 41 people and wounding more than a hundred.

Social media users wondered why the news did not inspire Facebook to launch a ‘Safety check’ option for the grieving citizens of Beirut? Or allow its users the easy option to add the colours of the Lebanese flag to their display pictures?

In the last 48 hours, just about every recognisable political figure, artist and entertainer has released a statement condemning the attacks on Paris.

Famous monuments from the Empire State Building to the London Bridge, glowed all night in French colours. With candle light vigils taking place in major cities around the globe, #PrayforParis was mentioned about 6.6 million times on Twitter, relative to only 273,000 mentions for #Beirut and #PrayforBeirut combined.

It is only recently that a more inclusive #PrayforWorld has started gaining momentum.

A grief that is closer to home

The situation appeared worse on mainstream media outlets, with all tragedies besides Paris ticker-taping across the bottom of the television screen as token one-liners, if at all.

There were no detailed interviews of survivors in Beirut, or news on how those wounded in the Baghdad attack were faring.

An uproar naturally followed concerning the world’s ‘selective outrage’. Mark Zuckerberg was forced to explain, rather poorly, why Facebook treated Paris and Beirut differently.

Social media users with tri-colour display pictures feel affronted by the politicisation of their humble gesture of support for the Parisians, and the insinuation that it indicates their apathy for ‘third-world’ victims of violence.

Many accused the ‘What about Beirut’-ers for faking concern for such tragedies only to belittle the crisis in France, and score points against ‘the West’.

After all, most of us never talked about Beirut until the Parisians were attacked.

The reason could be an irrational anti-West bias, but also the fact that many of us never heard of the tragedy in Lebanon.

The mainstream media mumbled its reports on Beirut and Baghdad as a usual journalistic requirement, with all the zeal of a kid returning to school after his summer vacation.

In contrast, anyone not stuck on a high chairlift with a dead mobile phone since Friday, has caught wind of Paris. Everyone knows about it, and has an opinion on it, because it’s being discussed all around.

The last few days have only added more evidence to the theory that a Western tragedy is a universal tragedy, while a crisis anywhere else is a regional affair.

It is worth recalling how 17 deaths in the Charlie Hebdo attack once managed to dwarf roughly 2000 deaths in Baga, Nigeria, in terms of media coverage.

Also read: I am Charlie, but I am Baga too — On Nigeria’s forgotten massacre

The coverage Paris receives is justified, and I do not wish to subtract anything from it. But it is valid to ask why we won’t do the same for Gaza, Baghdad, Rakhine, or Garissa, when theoretically, all life matters.

It isn’t wrong for us to feel disappointed, knowing that our love and support for victims of violence and natural calamities in the West, will not be reciprocated.

A Nigerian will gladly replace his profile picture on Facebook with a French flag, but if a bomb sets off in his own town, there will be no Nigerian colours on display on social media.

It is not unreasonable to feel bitter knowing that the world has accepted our pain as an inevitability; our sensation-less Wednesday merely background noise to the ‘real’ traumas of the first world.

Our country is a curious case of contradictions masquerading as consistency.

Due to the peculiarly lopsided history of our political, social and economic development, we have had to grapple with universalistic concepts, like liberalism and self-realisation, without first growing a lush national identity.

Resultantly, our norms and values are rife with contradictions that manifest themselves in various ways, and that too frequently.

To live in Pakistan then means living in contradiction.

Take the instance of ‘liberals’ in Pakistan. For some odd reason, a pronounced divide lies between the conservatives and liberals in our country, even though very few people in Pakistan truly understand the meaning of being ‘liberal’ or ‘conservative’.

In this debate, both sides subject each other to the tyranny of monolithic conceptualisations with equal gusto, even though the off-balance power enjoyed by the conservatives makes their efforts far more noticeable than the liberals’.

Also read: The problem with Pakistani liberals

In response, a lot of ‘liberals’ waste no opportunity to tout the fairness of their conduct and the unreasonableness of their rivals’ behaviour, but in many cases, their own tolerance and fairness is borne out of a history of few or no conflicted interactions.

This is not true for everyone though, but sadly, a few people who do understand what being ‘liberal’ entails are more often than not forced to hide in plain sight because of the associated risks.

Over the past couple of years, we have started to at least discuss the possible faults in our ways when it comes to the presence of extremism in our country, and the country's leadership is finally addressing many thorny issues, albeit hesitantly.

However, gains made in the military realm remain to be fully materialised by ensuring that certain measures are taken, with the curbing of hate speech and regulation of religious seminaries as two core issues. These measures have largely been neglected so far.

It also seems that the PML-N government is sheepish about disturbing the status quo and incurring the wrath of the religious right. Sensing this hesitation though, over time the far right has steadily upped the ante, so much so that any and all efforts by the civilian administration to claim back the narrative are ruthlessly thwarted.

One such example of this trend is the recent event held in Nowshera where religious leaders called on the Supreme Court of Pakistan to take suo motu notice of the prime minister's recent speech in which he spoke of Pakistan as a ‘liberal’ country.

The PM had stated:

Our democratic and economic journey has not been without setbacks. Butthe Pakistani nation has once and for all decided that its future liesin a liberal and democratic country, where the private sector thrivesand no one is left behind.

As per the leaders in attendance at the Nowshera event, any attempt to attach the prefix ‘liberal’ to the ‘Islamic’ Republic runs counter to the ideology of Pakistan, so the conservatives contend that the premier should have chosen his words carefully and steered away from any and all liberal connotations.

One thing to note is that words can only achieve so much, and in the absence of actions, Pakistan converting into a liberal country at large remains a distant possibility.

The event in Nowshera also highlighted another aspect. In a country rife with forced conversions and with a general environment of viewing members of religious groups other than Islam as suspect, being perceived as a liberal can sometimes result in grave consequences no matter who you are. These consequences can range from censure to harassment for the lucky and persecution and sometimes even death for the not-so-lucky.

Also read: Wanted — Some sacred space that doesn't preach hate

So dire is the situation that concepts like freedom of expression here almost always have qualifiers attached to them, and the only thing worse than being called the ‘L’ word in Pakistan is the ‘S’ word, the latter alphabet representing the term secular.

The truth is that we are witnessing a battle for the very soul of our country, and while it may not be apparent right now, the results of this tussle will end up defining our future.

For keen observers that have grown up with an acute sense of the fanatical path the country seems to be heading down, hiding their true emotions while observing their worst fears materialise is now the norm.

In a situation where hate-mongers are free to preach openly and the tolerant have to lurk in the shadows, the future does not look too bright.

France’s renewed and intensified air strikes against the self-styled Islamic State (IS) in the city of Raqqa in Syria remind one of the US-led military coalition’s post-9/11 attacks on Al Qaeda hideouts in Afghanistan.

The US military operation was successful, shattering the terrorist network and its supporters. It paved the way for uprooting the Taliban government and installing a consensus government in Kabul.

Will the same happen in Syria?

It is difficult to draw a comparison between the Afghan situation of 2001 and the current state of affairs in Syria. While the whole world was standing with the US in 2001, global and regional players have divergent interests in Syria.

The spree of terrorist attacks and suicide bombings that hit France will certainly have huge political and strategic implications.

Also read: Syria raids — France to deploy aircraft carrier to boost operations against IS

However, it remains to be seen how these attacks will change the world or at least, Europe, in comparison with the global strategic and political changes that followed the 9/11 incidents of terrorism.

As borders lock down

Some immediate effects can be presumed. The Syrian refugees, who are also victims of the IS, will suffer the most. Many European nations will turn their back on them and anti-immigrant sentiments are sure to rise in Europe.

Political and security analysts are predicting strict security measures, including border security, which may put the Schengen regime in danger.

Also read: Syrian refugees brace for backlash after Paris attacks

The Middle Eastern region will face the direct consequences of the Paris attacks. The US and Russia, and their respective allies, will try to address conflicts in the Middle East, but their divergent interests may intensify the turmoil.

Additionally, there is evidence to suggest that an escalated risk of violence and conflict is sure to be exploited by militants operating in the region and beyond.

The Paris attacks: A strategic move?

Although it remains to be seen if the attacks will help IS secure its captured areas, one thing is for certain: the attacks will help it expand ideological and political appeal among other violent and non-violent radicals in Muslim countries and communities.

Some analysts believe that these attacks indicate an adjustment in the IS approach; it has now added a global element to a regional campaign.

The IS had so far manifested a territorial approach, which is to systematically expand its control and appeal, not only in Iraq and Syria but also to other Muslim countries where terrorist activity and militant movements are stronger.

The Russian airstrikes and the US decision to intensify the military campaign against IS have forced the group to alter its operational approach. The group was trying to signal to its opponents through different acts of terrorism outside Syria and Iraq about a shift in strategy even before the Paris attacks.

Political analysts and strategists failed to understand these IS messages, such as the suicide bombing in Beirut a day before the Paris attacks, and its claim of responsibility for the Russian plane crash.

Many experts also viewed the attacks as IS now following the footsteps of Al Qaeda.

Also read: Afghan security adviser warns of risk from IS, Al Qaeda

This again supports the claim that the territorial approach of IS is weakening, mainly due to the losses it is suffering, and instead, it is transforming into a global terrorist movement.

Some experts even indicate that this change in the group's strategy may bring it closer to Al Qaeda and both international terrorist groups may merge or form an alliance.

Let’s look back at Afghanistan

The Al Qaeda was defeated. The Taliban government in Afghanistan was not treated as legitimate or as a government but as a terrorist group and an ally of Al Qaeda.

They were scattered, but apart from other factors, their claim on Afghanistan brings life to their movement. Now, they are on the path to be recognised as a legitimate partner in Afghanistan's power structure.

This is the only similarity between the Afghan Taliban and the IS: they both consider themselves legitimate governments.

But the world views them as mere non-state actors and terrorist groups. It cannot be predicted that the IS will meet the same fate as that of the Taliban, but they are actively behaving like a state, much like the Taliban.

Despite the existing strategic and operational weaknesses of global and regional stakeholders in Syria and Iraq, they are capable of dismantling the IS infrastructure. But are they also capable of destroying the ideological and political inspirations of this group, especially, when IS has added to its credentials a claim of custodianship of the Islamic caliphate?

The challenge has become multi-fold: a terrorist group has shown that it can establish a state despite not having been acknowledged by the world as legitimate; a situation which can change the world's political, strategic and historical discourses.

Middle Eastern countries are not yet ready to handle the problem efficiently; they do not have operational capabilities, political consensus and perhaps strategic will to deal with common challenges. Thus, the US, Russia and their European allies cannot leave the task unaccomplished or back down while they face the consequences at home.

It isn’t difficult to see why Pakistan hungers for entertainment. We are perpetually swamped with social, economic and security crises and get little respite. Even the highly anticipated international cricketing events have been taken away from us.

On the other hand, Pakistani television is the victim of a savage ratings game, where producers are unwilling to experiment with fresh programming ideas. In the morning, ridiculous talk shows are broadcast where both hosts and guests lack the skill and charisma required to create content worth watching.

The evenings are even more depressing. News channels offer the most mind-numbing programmes that quickly disintegrate into shouting contests, and our dramas recycle each other's material so relentlessly they should probably be given a Greenpeace award.

As a result, gardens, shopping malls and fast food joints are swarming with people during the weekends.

Also read: Lahore Disneyland-like facility to cost Rs36 billion

Like many others, I was a little stunned to learn that the Punjab government has signed a contract with a Chinese company named the ‘Golden Bean Industry Group’ to build a world-class theme park and aquarium in Lahore for a whopping 36 billion rupees. It is said that this park will boast rides as spectacular as those at Disneyland.

The cost of development is even higher than the astronomical sum needed for the Metrobus projects. The natural question that arises is: Is this really necessary in a country deprived of power, food, education and one that is also fast losing its heritage sites?

Others ask if it’s not more important to divert this sum towards the promotion of tourism in our northern areas which are breathtaking to behold.

Also read: Pakistani photo wins first place in Wiki Loves Earth contest 2015

Let’s be realistic. These attractions are created to serve the public, not to draw in tourists. Yes, modernising our northern areas will make them more attractive for visitors from overseas, but foreigners at the moment are keeping away, mainly because of security issues.

Moreover, modernising our northern areas will not affect the life of young city dwellers in Islamabad, Lahore, and Rawalpindi looking for immediate gratification that a theme park would provide.

The most vocal complaints over the Lahore park are coming from affluent Pakistanis who can visit Dubai, Sri Lanka, Thailand or travel to Europe or the United States frequently. Well, this theme park is probably not being built for them anyway.

Pakistan comfortably boasts its share of private country clubs, theme parks and sports clubs, but the majority of these are too expensive for the average Pakistani to afford. Someone with a membership to a theme park told me he was glad it was expensive as it kept the ‘riffraff out’. The memberships here cost several thousand a month, while the initial fee stands on average at over Rs500,000.

This sort of elitism has started to affect our malls as well. Centaurus Mall in Islamabad introduced an entrance fee to shield itself from ‘Pindi boys’.

Also read: Islamabad's phobia of Pindi boys

On the other hand, public theme parks in Pakistan — affordable to middle class citizens — are disorganised, unhygienic, lack security and offer facilities that pale in comparison to private theme parks.

Judging by its record of the Metrobus project, we can only hope that the Punjab government is going to ensure that the theme park is accessible to everyone.

Does the average citizen not deserve the same degree of entertainment as the affluent?

However, I am admittedly concerned about the company putting this together. Details on the Golden Bean Industry Group are difficult to find on the Internet. The other theme parks they have built in China, such as the Fantasy Park of Changchun city and Jiangnan Park of Jilin City, have little presence online, which is rare in this day and age. The project will apparently be completed in less than two years.

At this point, safety is my biggest concern. And with a track record of poor maintenance in projects across the country, we should stand firm, make sure our safety is taken into account and refuse to accept any more preventable deaths.

My passport expired last year and I did not dare to think of a renewal, knowing full well the horrors of going to the passport office and doing the khwari.

But as a PhD student, I had to publish at least one paper internationally. Luckily, mine got accepted for “IS&T International Symposium on Electronic Imaging 2016 in Video Surveillance and Transportation Imaging Applications Conference” in San Francisco. I could no longer put the renewal off.

One fateful Tuesday morning, I finally willed myself to go to the main passport office. I arrived at 8.30am, and as I was walking towards the head office, about a dozen people who wanted to 'help' me get my passport renewed descended upon me out of nowhere!

The 'agents'

Commonly known as ‘agents’, they have bank challan (tickets) in their hands and are ever-ready to assist you – minus the khwari, at a cost, of course.

They guarantee the submission of any application in under 15 minutes and promise to deliver the passport to your house. The offer sounded too good to be true so I did not pay any heed to the clamour and went directly inside the office.

To my dismay, I saw four haphazard queues, with no idea what to do or where to start. I looked around but failed to find an information counter.

Fortunately, I spotted a colleague who had come for a renewal too. He explained the entire process to me and advised that I should go to the regional branch at Awami Markaz on Sharae Faisal, which covers my locality. "Also, it won’t be this crowded," he had said.

He did mention, however, "Wahan link down hojata hai kabhi kabhi." (Their server link is sometimes 'down'.)

I thanked him and rushed to the regional office. A flock of agents descended once again. I ignored them and went straight ahead. This office was definitely better structured than the previous one.

Also read: 5 reasons driving in Karachi is an extreme sport

Thankfully, I found an information counter as well. The man behind the desk said I would need to submit the fee at the bank and would additionally need my expired passport and original Identity Card along with their photocopies. That bank's branch was on the 2nd floor of the building I was standing in (Awami Markaz). I went down, submitted my fee, and came back up again to find a queue the likes of which I had never seen before!

The long wait

It was already 10:30am, and I had to go to the university so I decided to come back later. The next day at 9:30am, I was standing in line for a token once again. The queue was so long that it stretched out of the office and into the street under the naked gaze of the sun.

While I was waiting, I started chatting with the people around me. I was unnerved at what they had to share; a gentleman who is a senior manager at a bank told me that the last time he came, he had spent hours finishing all prerequisites, carefully collecting and organising all documents, and when he reached the last counter for the final stamp, he was asked for the original ID cards of his parents!

Another one told me that he was asked for his matriculation certificate. A third was asked for his latest electricity bill. They were told that their process could not begin without the aforementioned records.

I argued that the information counter had not mentioned any of these requirements. They smiled at my naiveté. Suddenly it struck me, after all this trouble I could still get rejected at the final counter for not having some random document.

As our queue moved forward at a sluggish pace, I did finally manage to get out of the scorching sun and under the shade. To my utter dismay, I felt a gush of hot air right above my head. I looked up to find two AC heaters droning on.

On moving forward, I saw a guard standing near the counter religiously trying to keep the queue in proper order. He was not letting anyone outside of the line go in directly. I salute the guard for that. Many people came with big references but he wouldn't budge.

Finally and at last, I was inside the office. I realised that there were just two counters; one for men and one for women. However, on close scrutiny I saw that there was another counter to get tokens. I had been standing in this line for almost an hour and was still waiting for my turn, but I saw some people coming in with agents from the exit door, going directly for their tokens without having to wait in line.

We were furious at this point. This continuous intrusion was delaying our turn. Someone behind me started shouting. We all joined in and soon the Assistant Director sahab came and calmed us down. He ‘scolded’ the token guys for the lapse.

Also read: The traveling Pakistani — Adding insult to injury

After 2 hours of waiting, I got my token, pictures and thumb impressions done, and then came the time for data entry. The space between the token counter and data entry counter was so cramped, one could only stand sideways. Men, women, the elderly and children, all stood in a state of asphyxiation because the air conditioners were barely working.

All of this had started to feel like a very tedious and unpleasant experience. Some tried to ignore the surroundings by blankly staring at a cricket match on a tiny TV screen in a corner.

The two most frightening words

Just as I was thinking it couldn't get any worse, someone shouted:

“Link down!”

This meant that all work would now stop. And here we were standing half suffocated, while the staff began to relax. They ordered tea for themselves and started watching the cricket match.

I remembered that I had once discussed the passport renewal process with one of my university colleagues and he had told me that he got it made through an agent.

Interestingly, the agent had told him “Sirjee jaldi karain, link down honay ka time hogaya hay.” (Hurry up sir, it's time for the link to go down.)

Almost immediately, I understood what had passed. By then, another 40 minutes had gone by and now people were starting to get angry.

By 12:15pm, I felt certain my work would not be done that day. And just as I was standing there feeling terrible about it, the assistant director announced that they could only process passport renewal applications and would not be entertaining other requests.

I was in luck!

They took my token and called my friends and I one by one. I was done in the next five minutes!

Then came the dreaded last counter which would decide the fate of my application. As I moved towards the counter, I glanced at the irritable faces of all the people still expecting to hear: ‘Link up’.

At the final counter, there was a plaque with the words 'Assistant Director' on it. The director sahab, who was by then under a lot of pressure, did not ask me anything and just signed off my application.

I couldn’t believe the relief that washed over me as I realised I was finally done.

However, the respite was short-lived as this experience made me realise how 'genuinely' interested the government is in the affairs of its people

Also read: Being a Pakistani abroad

This is just my experience. Almost everyone across the country has similar stories of horror to share about public hospitals, police stations, license offices, schools or district councils or other government-run institutes.

And then, how are we to feel when we look at the parliamentary lounges, the chief minister houses, governor houses, or presidential palaces? Our political elite seem to be taking pretty good care of themselves.

Replacing an administrator here or there, making a country a police state or fixing one department in the National Accountability Bureau (NAB) will not make us a nation that cares for its people.

It can only happen when people at the top truly decide to change their value systems. Which is sure to have a trickle-down effect.

I literally await the day when Pakistan develops a consciousness towards public service. Because really, is it too much to ask?

For too long now there has been a parochial understanding of what Pakistani history as an academic discipline entails, as there is a firm assumption that it has to be accountable to the public eye.

Many are of the idea that history is perhaps, already present in the past. And that the historian’s role is only one of assorting facts and events along a chronological and byte-sized narrative; as if it were a jigsaw puzzle in which the pieces were facts that fit in a fixed tapestry of national belonging.

These traditionalist frameworks become very real when narratives associated with Dr Muhammad Iqbal’s statements regarding the official demand for separation led to the public de facto assuming that Iqbal also called for a partitioned Muslim state.

The infamous Pakistan studies textbook presents Iqbal as a pious orthodox Muslim thinker with the message being that Pakistan, the homeland, can be accredited to his vision.

It is not surprising then that Iqbal has become the father of Pakistan as he was the first to call for “the Punjab, North West Frontier Province, Sind and Balochistan amalgamated into a single state” in his presidential address to the 21st session of the All-India Muslim League that was held in Allahabad on the 29th of December, 1930.

What is surprising, however, is that if one were to read Iqbal’s seminal presidential address in the historical context, it becomes clear that his vision never actually called for the partitioned Muslim state of Pakistan.

From the very onset of Iqbal’s address, it is clear that he was posing the ideological dichotomy between Islam and Western nationalism as a conflict as it had the potential to disrupt Islam as an edifice of life.

In setting the parameters of this conflict between Islam and modern nationalism within the South Asian context, the genius of Iqbal neither chose an isolationist approach, such as the one adopted by the Deobandi school of thought, nor did he want to appease the colonial powers and their separation of church and state.

Also read: The Pakistan Ideology — History of a grand concoction

Instead, Iqbal expounded the idea that Islam was not just an “ethical ideal” but also an overarching legal political “social structure” which, throughout the “life-history of the Muslims of India” had unified “scattered individuals and groups”.

For Iqbal, Western nationalism was centred on a “narrower system of ethics” which took agency of religion away from the public to the private sphere.

Iqbal countered the idea of territory arguing that Islam was a “force for freeing the outlook of man from its geographical limitations” and that religion was a power of the utmost importance in the life of individual, as well as of states.

He maintained that if democracy were to be applied there had to be recognition of the “units of Indian society” not from a territorial standpoint but rather through accounting for the diverse nature of India’s “communal groups”.

Within them, Indian Muslims were the most homogenous and united in India and were the only people who could be “fitly described as a nation in the modern sense of the word”, he argued.

But does that mean Iqbal was talking about a partitioned Muslim state?

For many the demand for Pakistan after Iqbal’s address which called for the North-West to become a single state and the added oppression under the “Hindu” Congress is enough to solidify the notion that Iqbal envisioned Pakistan.

School histories cite remote statements from Iqbal’s 1930 address contending that he can be viewed as a separatist; various communal groups could simply not “sink their respective individualities in a larger whole” are those gold lines which tickle the patriotic heart.

Yet nationalist narratives conveniently forget Iqbal stating that were communal groups entitled to the autonomous development of their cultures in their own “Indian home-lands” then they would be ready to safeguard the “freedom of India”.

Also read: What is the most blatant lie taught through Pakistan textbooks?

The omission of Iqbal’s arbitration between Western ideals of state and the role of Islam as mentioned in his address from our school histories is unfortunate – his answer for this disruption is what makes Iqbal an unequivocal visionary for Muslim nationalism in a land as diverse as India.

“Muslim India within India”

There is also a need to contextualise the December 1930 presidential address and Iqbal’s historical situation before painting with a brush the Pakistani green of national zeal as the poet-politician's tract on autonomous states within a federation goes amiss in our mainstream narratives.

The intended audience for the address was not just Indian Muslims, but the speech was a direct rebuttal to the Nehru report of 1929 which “rejected the crucial Muslim demands for a separate electorate and weightage for minorities”.

The concept of a federation for Iqbal warranted an abolition of the Central Legislative Assembly and instead called for an assembly which would represent the federal states and thus eliminate the “communal problem”.

How can one argue for a partitioned Muslim state if Iqbal himself affirmed that “proper redistribution will make the question of joint and separate electorates automatically disappear from the constitutional controversy of India”.

Allama Iqbal at the Round Table Conference in 1931. —Photo by The Citizens Archive of Pakistan

A solution could not be reached until all parties understood that the argument of the Muslims in India was “international and not national” as communal groups were nations in themselves.

When Iqbal called for a consolidated Muslim state, which would be centralised in a specific territory, namely the North-West of India, let us not forget that he argued for a “Muslim India within India”.

Perhaps, what makes Iqbal’s rhetoric even more powerful was that his political proposal was adjoined and fitted neatly into his theory of the universal Muslim millat.

The consolidation of the Muslim state was a stepping stone towards the unification of the world Islamic community, as Islam was a “peoples building force” and again not just an “ideal”.

A consolidated state for Islam was an “opportunity to rid itself from the stamp of Arab imperialism” and instead to revamp its “law, culture, education and to bring them in closer context with the spirit of modern times”.

Also read: Independence, not partition

There is nothing orthodox about Iqbal and he never called for a Pakistan as a partitioned Muslim state in his December 1930 presidential address to the All-India Muslim League – an address that is recalled as the first stepping stone towards a separate homeland justified in our school histories through isolated statements of sovereign marked territory.

Instead, we need to read Iqbal’s statements closely on that day, and uphold him as a Muslim nationalist of the time, whose political proposals called for harmony between Western democracy and Islamic nationalism through an overarching concept of Islam as a cultural force within India.

It is ironic that answering a question about who spelt out the idea of Pakistan in school histories has become something of a joke because the kind of separatism Iqbal had been spelling out actually never had its desired effect on Indian Muslims.

The question put up to the Pakistan studies student about the 1930 address should not be filtered through an already present Pakistan in mind. Rather, points of study during the 1930s should flesh out how Muslim proposals projected their visions for syncretic power between religiously marked categories of “majorities” and “minorities” in a British free India.

“In the world of Islam today, we have a universal polity whose fundamentals are believed to have been revealed, but whose structure … stands today in need of renewed power by fresh adjustments. I do not know what will be the final fate of the national idea in the world of Islam,” said Iqbal.

References:

• Pirzada, Syed Shariffuddin, Foundations of Pakistan: All-India Muslim League Documents (1906-1947) Volume 2, (National Publishing House, 1970).
  
• R.J. Moore, ‘Jinnah and the Pakistan Demand,’ Modern Asian Studies, XVII, 4, (1983): pp. 529-546.
  
• Naim, C.M, Iqbal, Jinnah, and Pakistan: The Vision of Reality, (New York, 1979).
  

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In October of this year, I left Karachi for Hunza in keen pursuit of picturesque views, lush-green valleys and tranquillity. Accompanied by two other photographer friends, we excitedly started on our journey.

In Karachi, the humdrum of monotonous city life, devoid of colour, had started to irk me.

As a photographer, I have a wanderlust and often feel the urge to break out of the tedious routine as often as possible and therefore, a change of landscape does this to perfect effect.

Grazing in Altit Gardens.

The water channel.

A view from Altit.

From the urban structure of Karachi where the lights never go off and the sounds never wane, what better change is there than to sit under the apricot trees of Hunza, watching the shedding of golden leaves?

Or looking up at the Valley’s starry skies at night, or sitting at the foot of the magnificent mountains absorbing their incredible glory?

The final sunset.

Building Hunza.

A woman carrying her child.

Apples of Hunza.

Looking down the water channel.

Having already made a road trip previously from Islamabad to Hunza through the Karakoram Highway, we decided to take a flight this time to catch autumn in its full glory.

As much as I had insisted on a road trip to observe the change of scenery all the way from Punjab to Gilgit Baltistan, the flight to Skardu treated me to an astounding aerial view of Nanga Parbat.

Split in the clouds.

Children of Hunza.

Looking out at the eagle's nest.

Scenery after school.

The wind was chilly and caused a flurry in the leaves which glided through the air before landing on the ground.

This created a spectacular sight and I basked in the true spirit of autumn that I may never have been able to see if I had stayed back in Karachi.

Carpets hung out to dry.

Hansel & Gretel in Altit Gardens.

Route up to Baltit Fort.

Through the water channel.

We had made it in good time. The next 10 days consisted of blissful morning walks and evenings spent at Cafe De Hunza. This was only my second visit to this paradise on earth, and definitely not my last.

Full bloom.

Children of Hunza.

Sub-Inspector Shahida is one of the many young women who have recently joined the Rawalpindi Police Force after clearing the Punjab Public Service Commission exam. She is conscientious, educated, and confident — exactly the image that Pakistan, whose population balance tips towards the young, needs to have.

In our dominant patriarchal culture, the induction of such a large number of young women did come to me as a bit of a surprise. So much so, I was wondering if the government had privatised the police department!

This interesting exchange with Shahida took place by chance a couple of days ago, when I was visiting my friend, a superintendent of Police in Rawalpindi. Upon entering the Rawalpindi Police Headquarters, I saw a couple of young uniform-clad women, looking very professional.

The colour of their uniform was the same as that of their male colleagues, but something else captured my attention. They were all wearing pantaloons.

This was definitely not something I expected policewomen in Punjab to wear. They usually dress in the traditional Shalwar Kameez.

Also read: Badge of honour: KP's female cops break new ground

I was very curious to know how these policewomen were different from the rest. When I asked my friend about it, he said these newly-recruited ladies had to undergo a rigorous police training, including an Elite Commando course.

Elite training? I was puzzled. This training is considered to be the toughest in police, not just for women, but also for men. It has the same reputation as that of the SSG trainings conducted by the army. “How did they do all this?” I inquired, on which my friend suggested that I should meet them to find out for myself.

I walked out of his room towards the spacious veranda of the police station. I found the young female police inspectors busy with their work. Seated in their rooms, they were listening to the complainants, conducting themselves with thorough professionalism.

Women police officers are inducted in two cadres; Officers and Ranks. Officers start at grade 17 as Assistant Superintendents of Police, and those in Ranks join at grade 14 as Sub-Inspectors.

For the first time in the history of Punjab Police, last year, 76 women joined the police department in Punjab as Sub-Inspectors.

During my visit, I also met Sabrina who told me that she travelled from Taxila to Rawalpindi every day. That was nothing new. But imagine a woman wearing a police uniform, driving daily from Taxila to Rawalpindi and back on a busy GT road.

I asked her if she ever felt threatened, or if she carried a weapon. “I am the weapon,” she said.

Her confidence was almost infectious. For a minute, I thought I was having a conversation with Sun Tzu, Zen Buddhist warrior and author of ’The art of war’. She was very calm, composed and self-assured as she spoke.

And she was not the only one; all these young officers seemed firm and determined. This experience held a novelty for me. Part of the credit for their level of self-confidence goes to the training they received.

I asked how their families felt about their working hours. I was told they had full support. The new generation, along with their families, wanted to make the best use of opportunities provided by a growing economy like Punjab’s. To them, working for the Punjab Police means a secure future.

The Punjab Police is primarily male-dominated and the province has a rigid patriarchal culture. It is no secret that most of the postings and appointments, not just in the Police but in other departments as well, are handed down on political affiliations.

Also read: Footprints — Female wardens back on bikes

Considering these circumstances, I wonder if these women would ever be posted as SHOs (Station House Officers) not just in women thaanas (police stations) but elsewhere too?

Would these women ever be brought into mainstream policing?

Would they really be able to bring about a positive change in society's approach towards females?

Women certainly have limitations when it comes to the culture or environment of an institution and it is not their fault. “Men can sit together in the office for hours. They can be friends with their bosses, while we can’t. We cannot get chummy with our seniors,” said Shabnam.

She also said that their confidence springs from looking up to female police officers at higher ranks within the department. “Although things are still difficult, times are changing and we get a lot of encouragement from our male colleagues.”

Also read: Meet Pakistan’s fearless female police commandos

Women in these police stations work alongside men. The men I met were more senior, both in terms of rank and age. However, it came to me as a pleasant surprise that they welcomed the idea of young women joining the police force.

Tahir Naqvi, 50, told me about his experience with the new recruits. He said one day during the month of Muharram, security was on high-alert and a procession was expected to go through the area. Traffic was blocked and barriers erected. At this point, a female police officer, who had recently joined the team took a bold decision. She told the sergeant to allow the traffic to pass as people with young children had been stuck for a long time.

He was astonished to hear this and asked her if she knew what she was doing. “Yes Sir, I do,” she had replied.

“They are not like our generation. They are energetic and willing to learn. We wish them good luck,” said Naqvi.

Women are fast becoming change agents across the board; whether its education, sports, medicine, businesses or the police department. This is the right time to tap their potential as women constitute more than half of Pakistan’s population.

I witnessed firsthand how the Punjab Police is changing for the better. Young and educated women and men are joining its ranks. It seems that the thaana culture that the previous generations witnessed would soon be history.

The police department — if it consistently pursued its policies — would eventually evolve into a more responsive and gender equal institution.

— All photos by the author

Did you know that there is a greeting in the Urdu language floating around in space currently, some 19 billion kilometers from Earth?

How did it get there, and for whom is it intended are the two questions that naturally follow.

In 1977, Nasa launched a spacecraft called the ‘Voyager’, which was equipped with scientific instruments to increase our understanding of outer planets, the solar system, and the worlds beyond it.

This spacecraft is the first of any kind to capture breathtaking views of planets Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus and Neptune.

After 38 years of sailing through space and traveling a distance of some 19 billion kilometers, the Voyager has now exited our solar system and entered the interstellar space.

However, when this machine was being designed, a pertinent question arose; what if other intelligent extraterrestrial life forms were to stumble upon it? And if they did, how would they know it was sent from Earth?

As a solution to this problem, a ‘Golden Record’ — containing pieces of music, pictures and various sounds from all over the world, including greetings in 55 different languages — was fixed on the Voyager.

Resultantly, when and if, other intelligent life forms do intercept the spacecraft, they would know its origin, and with it, about us.

Dr. Salman Hameed from Hampshire College, USA, explains this intriguing concept and the story behind the Golden Record in the video above.

This video is a part of a series titled ‘Science Ka Adda’, which is aimed at enhancing public understanding of science.

Blood. Corpses. Mayhem. Terror. For those of us living in terrorism-riddled countries, these experiences are all too familiar. And, we make sure no one forgets that.

We never miss an opportunity to make ourselves heard and we make sure that our wails are the loudest.

According to many, other than the victims of a foreign orchestrated crime, no other group of people is worthy of equal attention, definitely not denizens of countries held responsible for these tragic events.

But while everyone is mourning for France, they should not dare forget the long list of ‘other’ countries suffering the same fate, unless they want to be labelled as racists.

There is definitely some merit to the argument that ‘selective humanity’ is being exercised by the West, and we consider it our duty to make sure that that is recognised.

Also read: Beirut, Baghdad, Paris — Are some tragedies more tragic than others?

Colonialism was built upon the West claiming to be more human that the rest of the world – a superiority complex of sorts – and so it is hardly astonishing to see them display such feelings when faced with a catastrophe.

This marked difference in response to a loss of life based on race and region is evident.

When President Obama called it an attack on ’shared universal values’, the exceptionalism inherent in his claim was hard to miss.

But then, there is also a gross lack of humanity clearly evident when we use such a moment to trivialise the grief of others, no matter who they are, and use it as a springboard for recognition of our own suffering.

Social media’s newest phrase: ‘Selective humanity’

This phrase is thrown around to discredit the mourning of others, without realising the sheer hypocrisy of our own actions in doing so.

We bemoan the lack of attention for the Beirut bombings, quote figures of Syrian victims and lament the lack of global attention our tragedies receive, without recognising that in doing so, we are also guilty of the same charges.

Once again, we are swift to absolve ourselves of any responsibility and put the blame on others for not thinking of our suffering.

Stealing your spotlight

Before the Paris attacks, there was very little mention of the Beirut bombings on social media websites and the mainstream media; life was going on as usual.

But soon after the Paris attack, a large numbers of us were quick to raise our voices to make sure that Beirut was right up there in terms of attention.

Where was this solidarity, compassion and anguish before?

Or is it that the only thing capable of arousing our humanity is the threat of someone else stealing the spotlight as the biggest victims of terrorism?

Self-victimisation can only go so far; we have to get up and take responsibility for our own lives.

Had our empathy truly been sincere for all the tragedies we so valiantly associate ourselves with, we would not have waited to speak about them till after the French tragedy.

Having a French flag as our display picture on Facebook, and mentioning Beirut and Gaza in our status simply reinforces the problem.

Also read: A nation in trauma: France’s future fears

Surely the irony is unmistakable. And the problem with those who go one step further and deny that Paris deserves any bereavement, and put up pictures of the Syrian or Palestinian flags instead, is the same: we only react, feel and realise how utterly miserable we are when let down by foreign powers.

Social media has transformed the way power and knowledge construct our opinions. Rather than receiving biased information as silent receivers, we are now active participants in the process of opinion generation, through our online presence, and therefore recreate the patterns we have so thoroughly internalised, subconsciously.

There is an inextricable, cyclical link; it is futile and even ignorant to critise the media without recognising our role in it.

A powerful wake up call

Rather than denouncing the unfair treatment we receive, the ill-fated state of our nations and the role of outsiders in putting us where we are, we should rise above the ruckus and strive towards solidarity.

We need to look within ourselves and understand what we can do for our own societies, before we begin to question the humanity of others. Social media rants are pointless, even dangerous, without sufficient action to back them up.

Selective humanity in retaliation of selective humanity is as absurd as trying to minimise and counter racism with more racism.

Such misplaced notions only act to maintain the system of power, by replacing the oppressors with the oppressed, and vice versa. The very concept of humanity is to break free from this cycle of oppression and work towards a society in which such beliefs do not exist.

As people who have suffered because of terrorism, and knowing full-well the horrors and trauma it brings, we must emphatise with other victims regardless of their nationality, race, religion and socio-economic status. In Pakistan, as we approach the anniversary of the Army Public School attack, this attitude should be all the more important.

President Hollande’s ’pitiless’ and ’ruthless’ military onslaught in response to this tragedy will be ineffective, just like military offenses elsewhere, simply because terrorism will create only more bigotry and hatred.

Only a collective movement – one that seeks to connect the suffering of everyone – can ever truly counter terrorism and leave no place for it to seek refuge, like it currently does.

Humanity, just like terrorism, knows no religion. The existence of one necessitates the absence of the other, and it is our individual choices that define which one thrives.

It is convenient to scold the Western nations for their racist antipathy towards the incoming refugees, when the refugees aren’t Afghan, and the territory they’re coming to, isn’t ours.

In the past few decades since Pakistan opened its doors to refugees pouring in across our Western border, our country has emerged as one of the largest refugee host nations in the world; a fact that isn’t looked upon as often with pride, as it is with regret and contempt.

The devastating APS attack was, in a certain way, to the Afghan-Pakistani community, what 9/11 was to Muslims in the United States.

It changed things for thousands of families that had nothing to do with militancy, yet were forced to prove their innocence and loyalty every day under the threat of “repatriation”.

Also read: ‘Maltreatment of Afghans peaked post-APS attack’

In the month after the Peshawar attack, the number of refugees being forced back to Afghanistan spiked by a factor of nine. Furthermore, since the introduction of the National Action Plan (NAP), there has been an unprecedented increase of ‘spontaneous returns’ of refugees.

The Human Rights Watch (HRW), has confirmed that many of these refugees were coerced out of Pakistan by the authorities.

An Afghan refugee girl carries her younger sister and holds on to another sibling, as she walks home through an alley of a poor neighbourhood on the outskirts of Islamabad. —AP

Testimonies obtained from ordinary Afghan vendors about police brutality and racial profiling, are harrowingly antithetical to the Ministry of States and Regions (Safron) claim that it seeks to “maintain its traditional hospitality”.

Afghan refugees, and Pakhtun people in general, represent a universally betrayed class of people in Pakistan.

Even among the more inclusive liberal circles, it is frightfully common to have people discussing over tea and cake-rusk, how Afghan refugees are stealing our jobs, bringing drugs into our country, and assisting in terrorist operations, supposedly in the ample free time they have between selling corn and homemade goods on the roadside to make ends meet.

Also read: Evicting the homeless, keeping Islamabad beautiful?

Those who follow Western politics, should immediately recognise the similarity of such rhetoric with that spewed by right-wing parties in Europe and the US.

Consider the constant, racist fear of ‘illegal Mexican immigrants’ bringing drugs into America, and taking jobs away from American people. The very insinuation causes outrage among those who stand for liberal principles, particularly that there is no such thing as an “illegal human”.

Since the Paris attack, social media has been awash with Pakistani users, among others, pleading European nations not to turn their backs on Syrian refugees for ‘security reasons’.

We cheered France’s confirmation that it would accept 30,000 refugees, regardless of what happened in Paris.

The mildest attempt at blaming the Muslim community for the brazen assault, is met with fierce backlash by the unified army of world’s liberals, particularly Muslims living in Europe who are fully aware of what this sentiment has the potential to lead to.

Why was this same magnanimity not an option when Afghan families were being repelled in droves, because Pakistanis had almost unanimously decided that their ethnicity makes them a ‘security risk’?

Why was the authorities’ brutality against them ignored or even celebrated as an essential ‘push factor’?

In fact, it is rather idealistic to expect empathy for foreign elements, when we had a difficult time extending basic human courtesies to our own IDPs.

Over a million predominantly-Pakhtun citizens displaced by the escalation of the counterterrorist operations were urged to remain confined in camps, not just by many conservatives, but Pakistan’s liberal torchbearers as well.

The Shah Mansour refugee camp in Pakistan. —AP Photo

This is despite the fact that there’s a perfectly tribal reason for us to care about Afghan refugees. We cite ‘Muslim brotherhood’ while banging away at our keyboards in solidarity with people of Gaza, Rakhine or Kashmir, but make no attempt at checking our ethnic biases when Afghan women and children come knocking at our door.

Also read: How many refugees does it take to care?

From the refugee crisis in Europe to the marginalisation of racial and religious minorities in America, we’ve been offered many opportunities to learn from the developed world’s egregious mistakes.

Instead we decide to use these errors as nothing more than sustenance for our own smug nationalism, and ammo against all that is allegedly ‘Western’.

‘Racism’ isn’t an exotic affair between white and black people in a land far away.

Racism is what we do to the Afghan immigrants’ right here in Pakistan. And, it is time we acknowledged that.

An Afghan refugee boy chases bubbles while playing on the outskirts of Islamabad, Pakistan. —AP

If you live in Pakistan, you would know that other people consider it their right to pry into your personal affairs (am I right, Imran Khan?).

Nevertheless, I thought, surely there is one relationship that is too sacred to be defiled by gossip?

Surely, basic decency would prevent people from making this one special relationship the subject of their nosy speculations; the relationship between a woman and her Dupatta.

Sadly, that isn't the case. My relationship with my Dupatta has of recent become talk of the town and I’m ashamed to say we have let this come between us.

You see, my Dupatta has recently been despondent. Drooping at the hem, its mukaish seemed more dull and the curves of its paisley embroidery less cheerful than before. I knew it was time for a talk.

Also read: How the hijab has made sexual harassment worse in Iran

Dupatta sighed when I suggested that, and fell into a dejected silence. “Come on now,” I said, “Is this about how many creases you have had recently? Sweetheart, you know you are always beautiful to me.”

“It’s just…” Dupatta responded, “Do you even love me anymore?”

“Darling! How can you ask such a thing?”

“Everyone’s been saying it. Don’t pretend you haven’t heard them. Everyone knows I’m not good enough for you.”

“Oh, you know how people talk. They don’t understand us, and they never will. Why are you thinking about silly gossip?,” I tried consoling it.

“Because, I – I – I’ve failed you!” Dupatta burst into tears. “I was supposed to protect you!”

I sighed heavily. I finally understood what Dupatta was so upset about.

“Now listen here. Is this about that day years ago, when I walked to the bank two houses down from my office to cash my cheque and a man grabbed my backside? Why darling! What could you possibly have done about that? You were just six yards of snow white crinkle chiffon!”

“But, but…everyone says it was my job to defend you! Maybe I shouldn’t have been white crinkle chiffon that day! Maybe I should have been a big, black chadar and then that young man would never have touched you!”

“Oh Dupatta, whatever material you were made of that day, it would hardly have mattered. You go around my chest and my shoulders. Unless I’ve been wearing you wrong for 10 years, I’m pretty sure you don’t cover my entire body anyway,” I said gently. “And besides my dear, it was mid-July then! It would have been torture to wear a big black chadar outside in the sun in that weather!”

“But…what about that day when you were walking home from the bank in your own gated residential colony, and that middle-aged man in the black corolla stopped his car beside you and insisted that you go home with him? By the way dear, going to the bank does not seem to work out well for you. Maybe you should give up the idea of having your own finances altogether. Maybe that’s the problem.”

“You were made of emerald green pashmina that day,” I replied, ignoring Dupatta’s remarks about my finances, “and even though I was starting to feel very hot, I still kept you draped around me, didn’t I?”

“And still I could not stop that man from making inappropriate advances at a woman half his age!” My Dupatta wailed. “Surely I must have done something wrong!”

“Now stop this silliness, Dupatta! There was nothing you could have done. Just like there was nothing you could have done when my friends and I went to Sheesh Mahal (Glass Palace) last weekend and that group of boys loitering there all turned around and kept their eyes glued to our bodies as we climbed down into the courtyard.”

“But I should have, I should have done something! Why couldn't I rip into a dozen little rags and wrap myself around each of the boys’ eyes like blindfolds? WHY?” Dupatta burst into fresh sobs.

“Darling, you’re getting hysterical…” I said, but it was no good.

“And when you were 13 years old and walking out of Alhamra with your siblings after watching a play and that young man shoved his hand between your legs!”

“My dear, how is that your fault?”

“Because, if only I had been made of reinforced concrete instead of off-white georgette! Why didn't it occur to me? Oh the shame, the shame!"

I waited for Dupatta to calm down before I tried to reason with it. “I know people’s gossip is frustrating, but why do you let this come between us now? We’ve been happy together for years!”

“How can you reduce our relationship to just the sexual? Is that all I am to you? What about everything else between us? You’re my safety net whenever I enter a ridiculously over air-conditioned room in midsummer, or when a passing car stirs up a cloud of dust on to my clean hair, or when the smoke and pollution is getting to my lungs.

“Who wipes my tears if I get upset and don’t want it to show? When it rains, who do I hold over my head?

“When the sun shines too bright on winter days, who creates a little canopy over my head?

“Who ripples out behind me in the wind on my friend’s rooftop during the monsoon rain so I can pretend I’m a Bollywood heroine?”

“I do…” said Dupatta with a watery smile. “I do all those things, but do I make you feel safe at all?”

I sighed. “Well, for some years, you know, at the beginning of our relationship, I didn’t feel safe without you. But as time passed, I wondered, isn’t there something wrong with a world where a 15-year-old girl doesn’t feel secure without a piece of cloth? Especially, when it doesn’t seem to help her safety much anyway?”

“Well, when you put it like that…I’m glad we stopped being codependent and moved on to a happier, healthier relationship.” Dupatta paused. “But…doesn’t it ever bother you that we had an Arranged Marriage, instead of a Love Marriage?”

I sighed. “Well, it is true that we were introduced by my parents. And it’s true we met under certain assumptions about women’s bodies. But since then and even before, we went out together so many times just because we wanted to, didn’t we? And now, we could very well leave each other. But we choose to stay together.”

“Yes...almost all the time. But what about when you go out without me?”

“You know we need space sometimes.”

“So…it’s not because I’m oppressing you?”

I started to laugh. “Where did you hear that?”

“Oh, you know, some white people on social media were talking about poor backward Muslim women.”

“Well, if we can’t let anyone within our own culture define our relationship, we certainly can’t let people from outside our culture butt in, can we? Besides, although I respect whatever religion you currently identify with, you know you really don’t have much to do with Islam dear. Your name comes from Sanskrit, and your ancestors can be traced back to Mohenjodaro, and that was long before Islam. What do those people know about us? Remember our first week at college?”

Dupatta nodded slowly.

“When that senior boy who became my friend was afraid of sitting on the grass and I asked why, and he finally admitted that he was afraid of bugs on the grass, and I spread you out on the ground for him to sit on?”

“And he said it’s nice when girls do things like that?”

“Yeah. I think he meant it’s nice when boys can say they’re afraid even of something silly like bugs and be treated with some chivalry in return.”

“Mmm. That was quite sweet, wasn’t it? I bet they never imagined you and I ever subverted gender roles together.”

“No, they didn’t. Because what they don’t realise is it’s not about whether we are seen together or not. It’s about us and what happens here behind closed doors, when I make the decision to go with you or without you, based on my own reasons of where I'm going, what I'm wearing, the weather outside, how I feel that day and a million other factors that only you and I know about. My dear, I really think no amount of cloth and no style of clothing are ever going to stop harassment and assault.

“Because a family member who tells a girl what to wear and a man who gropes at that girl on the street are both really saying the same thing: Your body does not belong to you. I get to tell you what to do with it.

“Harassment will only stop when we start to teach our children that only the person whose body it is should get to decide what happens to that body. That decision – whether it is about who touches your body or what clothes you wear on it – belongs to that person alone.”

You may be travelling for business or on vacation; but there are chances that you may commit a mistake or just not give serious thought to something and get into trouble.

Here are some pointers that make you less vulnerable and prepared to handle the most common scams targeting travellers.

At the airport

Security checks

Most airports require you to empty your pockets of all metal items (phones, coins, etc.) and place them in a tray to pass through the X-ray machine. Likewise, you are asked to remove your laptop or iPad from the bag and place in a separate tray for scanning.

During this period often people are deprived of their items by thieves lurking around.

— Always put your phones wallet and smaller valuable items inside your handbag and lock it.

— If the queue is long, hold back till you can walk through and be able to receive the items as they come out from the X-ray.

If you have someone else travelling with you ask them to stay with the items or then proceed first for their check and so receive the items on the other side of the X-ray.

Visa

Countries that offer a visa on arrival service require you to pay the fee at the airport upon arrival.

Be cautious when approached by individuals offering to expedite your process or pay in the local currency on your behalf if you don’t have any in exchange for foreign currency.

Customs duty

Fees may be applicable on certain items such as electronic and household goods even if they are for personal use. Carry any purchase receipt for new items that clearly mentions the value of the item.

Always take receipts for fees paid, you may have to present it in the future at another inspection.

If you must pay fees check ahead of time if you can pay:

— In cash.

— With a particular currency (local or other international currency, do you have the exact change).

— With your credit card (make sure you’ve verified before travelling that your card will work).

Transport

The most common scam at the airports is taxi services.

Individuals loitering around arrival halls offering private taxis are in many countries not just illegal but also known to fleece customers. It’s not unusual to hear of customers being robbed by these individuals or their accomplices.

— Check ahead of time the average fare for your destination.

— Always take a registered taxi service. You can either book one at a dedicated counter or stand in queue at a location identified by the airport authorities.

While travelling abroad take care that you don’t fall foul of the law or are taken for a ride by scam artists.

— Before getting into the cab check if it accepts credit cards if you aren’t paying with cash.

— Check if the meter is running and if not then either choose another cab or negotiate a fare before getting into the cab.

— Place your belongings in the car trunk and only keep your documents / wallet with you inside the cab.

Remember

Most major international airports have dedicated websites. These sites provide you with an array of information that includes:

— Immigration regulations.

— Types of transport to and from the airport.

— Food, duty free or regular shops, banks, telecommunication and other facilities available at the terminals.

— Address and distance to major landmarks of that city.

— Emergency numbers.

ID documents

— ID documents should never be left with anyone at any time.

— In case of loss of a travel document immediately contact the embassy for a replacement.

— Generally you are provided a temporary document that permits you to return to the country of your nationality and not a third country even if you are a resident there.

Your purchases

— Do not share your pin code or allow a vendor to take your credit card out of your sight.

— If a shopkeeper offers to charge the card at another outlet make sure you go with them.

— Count your change before leaving and check the notes; this way you can avoid the risk of receiving less change or bad quality currency notes.

— Familiarise yourself with the type of currency notes in circulation so you are not duped into receiving those which are not valid.

— Check your invoice and compare cost to a price list such as a menu card at a restaurant, especially if it is in a foreign language so not to be charged for a higher priced item.

— Always book sightseeing tours and event tickets with authorised agents at their offices, on their websites or even in your hotel. Street hawkers generally can’t provide you a refund or make changes to your bookings.

— When buying tickets to a tour or ride make sure to check beforehand if the activity is actually happening. Often people are fooled into paying for attractions that are closed for a period of time particularly during off season for tourists.

— Never leave your items unattended even for a moment, if they don’t get stolen they could attract the attention of the law enforcement and be destroyed, especially at the transportation terminals (plane, train and bus)

Cultural sensitivity

— Know the appropriate dress code. Inappropriate insignias, overexposure, political statements can land you in trouble with the law or even the locals.

— Be certain about the forms of greetings (handshake, kiss, etc.) that are acceptable, not just when greeting locals but even amongst your group.

— Offering a bribe is illegal even if it’s considered the norm in some countries. Refuse politely any demand for a bribe as it could be the pretext to extort further sums of money.

Staying connected

— If you must use an internet café make sure you don’t save your passwords and clear the cache once you log out. Remember to always LOG OUT.

— If free Wi-Fi is available at any establishment (restaurant, hotel, etc.) always verify if is the official one. Open Wi-Fi can be used to hack into your systems

— Get yourself a mobile SIM from a registered outlet, whether at the airport or in a mall.

Safe travels!

Published in Dawn, Sunday Magazine November 22nd, 2015

The author with her husband, Max.

In 2001, I met a man at work who intrigued me. We began dating shortly after the tragic 9/11 terrorist attacks. In 2003, I married this man, and in 2007 we had our first child together – a beautiful little girl to join my older daughter from a previous marriage.

In 2016, we will celebrate our 13th wedding anniversary with our children at Disney World – our favorite place on earth. Max loves me more than seems justified, but he’s exactly the father my kids deserve, the kind of man I wish I’d been able to look up to as a child.

Everyone he works, prays, plays or engages with loves and respects him. He’s one of those rare people who doesn’t seem to have any enemies.

But there’s just one little thing. Max is a Muslim.

The sad fact is, despite the qualities listed above, and the other terrific nuances that make Max a better man than most, some people that don’t know him at all hate him because of his religious beliefs. Oh, and they hate my 8-year-old daughter too. Facebook taught me that yesterday.

In fact, Facebook has been educating me about the inherent disgust for my family for years now. However, after last Friday’s senseless tragedy in Paris, the rejection of my loved ones reached a fever pitch.

It was a former aunt by marriage who posted a “fact” sheet (which I have not yet vetted) that delivered the blow that led to this post. The data in the meme purported to reflect Japanese restrictions on Muslims in their country.

Said aunt (who has, it must be owned, recognised her prejudicial error, removed the post and apologised) added the editorial comment, “And so should the US,” in reference to Japan’s alleged closed door policy to Islamic people.

It’s not like I haven’t experienced different forms of hate or racism by proxy over the course of my relationship with Max.

Quite the contrary. I’ve had my luggage contents dumped on the floor for all to see in an airport in Omaha. You know, because I was traveling with a bearded brown man. A hateful employee at O’Hare, the world’s largest as well as one of the most diverse travel hubs, attempted to prevent my husband and I from flying on the same plane to our honeymoon destination.

More recently, I was waved through a security checkpoint at the 9/11 Memorial in New York City even though my bracelets were tripping the metal detectors. However, my cousin by marriage, wearing a hijab, was harassed about a blue dolphin statue that I purchased for my daughter at the Museum of Natural History. My cousin had been kind enough to tote the item for me on her stroller, and her kindness turned into an ugly memory.

Also read: 'We are good Muslims, but Americans too'

I’ve asked these questions a million times. Does every Christian (or even an atheist gun owner) pay the price every time a rogue member of the flock shoots up an abortion clinic? Did every white American male have to apologise for or denounce the Unabomber? How about Timothy McVeigh? Did we close the borders to white Protestants after the evils perpetrated by the Klu Klux Klan? The obvious answer to all of these queries is “No.”

Why obvious? Because it’s absurd to expect every American or Christian to denounce the distorted beliefs of a crazy person in order to stave off personal suspicion. As a culture, we do not afford the Muslim community that same courtesy.

You know those people that spout racist speech but then take cover under dubious claims when caught? They’ll say “Oh, I have black friends” after making pointedly ignorant statements about the African-American culture. This phenomenon exists in discussions about the Islamic faith too.

When I’m frustrated and emboldened enough to call someone out for their hate speech, and this has happened a few times, some are very quick to tell me they have Muslim friends who are “good people.” All better then, right?

1) No. I don’t believe you have Muslim friends. Because if you did, they would tell you that your gross, painful generalisations are unfounded.

2) I don’t think a Muslim – or any religious/ethnic minority – would befriend you knowing your opinions.

3) The second you protest that you have a ____ friend and are not a prejudiced against ______s as a result, you have lost the argument.

Max is a man of seemingly limitless tolerance and patience. But I’m not. Those security disasters I mentioned? My husband waits for them to end with humility. He does what he’s told and asks me to remain quiet so we can get through it and not draw extra attention to ourselves. He accepts that additional layers of mistrust and scrutiny are his lot in life – that he has to deal with being unnecessarily harassed for the good of the country.

I sit there incensed and mortified. He just endures.

I’ve learned to internalise my anger because if Max is willing to undergo racial profiling so we can board our plane to Disney World, who am I to presume greater entitlement to respect? Who am I to disrupt the peace he so desperately wants? But, instead of getting used to the repetition of these indignities, they fester inside.

Also read: Interview — ‘Being Muslim in America is exhausting’

This is the world my daughters will inherit, the youngest of whom is being proudly raised in the Islamic faith. That’s what hurts and scares me the most. My husband is a big boy who can take care of himself. He was an adult with excellent coping skills before, during and after the horrible events of 9/11 that changed our country.

But, my baby girl is sweet and innocent, thinks the best of everyone. I dread the day she realises that some will reject her based on one part of who she is. How will she react the first time she’s on the receiving end of a racist remark or hate speech about the only religion she knows? How will I react?

I recently watching President Obama’s speech at the G20 Summit in Turkey. I mentally applauded a particular quote as it was uttered, but in light of this recent, personal emotional roller coaster it bears repeating:

I had a lot of disagreements with George W. Bush on policy, but I wasvery proud after 9/11 when he was adamant and clear about the factthat this is not a war on Islam. And the notion that some of those whohave taken on leadership in his party would ignore all of that, that’snot who we are. On this, they should follow his example. It was theright one. It was the right impulse. It’s our better impulse. We don’tdiscriminate against people because of their faith. We don’t killpeople because they’re different than us.

That’s what separates usfrom them.

This blog was first published on Becky Sarwate's blog and has been reproduced with permission.

Welcome, to the beautiful land of the pure. Here, we are blessed with four wondrous seasons and the geographical features are aplenty.

This is a land hard won through the sacrifices of many and now, you too, are a part of this nation of the free.

There is only one small hitch. You are Ahmadi, and life will be slightly more difficult for you than it is for the rest of the citizens of this country.

Though, if we are being honest, it’s not exactly a joy ride for everyone else either.

But never fear, this handy guide will tell you how to navigate through the typically awkward moments of a minority life. Let us begin:

School

Before your first day, your parents will have a serious talk with you which, at the time, may seem a bit odd. They will tell you that people are not nice to Ahmadis, so don’t go about telling everyone you are one. If anyone asks, tell them the truth, but don’t advertise it.

This is for your own good, unless you have been admitted to one of those posh schools in the country. Odds are that some, or many or the children around you are already receiving some kind of training at home to identify minorities and treat them differently. You will find out soon enough.

Also read: My daughter and Kainat

One day you will hear that the girl in section 2B is telling everyone that her father says you are not a Muslim and that no one should be friends with you.

Being gregarious will help you here; since you have a large circle of friends, you can ignore her even though you are trembling inside with fear of the fact that everyone will take her word for it and turn you into a social pariah.

Luckily, seven-year-olds don’t really care that much and you survive with nothing but the belief that your parents were right.

As you grow older, you must learn to dodge specific questions and never express opinions about religion. Just don’t. People might take offence and turn against you, so fly under the radar.

You will hear more and more news about Ahmadis being killed, your family will recount the history of violence against your community and your sense of identity will become slightly distorted. Don’t worry too much about this, it just comes with the territory.

Sometime, around the age of 13, you will disclose your religious identity to your best friend for the first time because it just feels right. And so, you wisely pick a friend who is a non-Muslim, hence reducing the chance of being judged; you are both in it together and you feel less alone now. Things will trundle along nicely for the rest of your school life.

Occasionally, some kid will make an insulting remark about your community and you will quietly stop being friends with them. No need to tell anyone why — keep the anger and hurt inside.

You will consider yourself lucky because you are enrolled in a private school. Things are different for Ahmadi kids in other places. There is one boy whose teachers make fun of him in class and whose schoolmates beat him up during recess; there are yet others who have altogether been expelled from their schools.

University

So you have turned 18 and it’s a brave new world out there. Time to get your ID card and passport.

At the passport office you find a sign stating that “Ahmadis must disclose their religion themselves”. This will be confusing until your father explains that unless you clearly mention that you are Ahmadi and double check the form afterwards, sometimes the officials will write you down as a Muslim and later refuse to change it.

So, you double and triple check the form before signing it.

Then there is the declaration. In every official form, for university admissions, ID documents, bank accounts, you will encounter the said declaration.

This, you will discover, has been put there especially because of the law which makes it illegal for you to ‘pose’ as a Muslim. All these important documents had to be modified particularly for you; here, you can’t help but feel a bit special.

You live in a small town so everyone at your university knows that you are an Ahmadi. But, they never really come up and tell you about it so it is a little confusing when one of your friends suddenly decides to end the friendship.

You finally figure it all out when one of your classmates asks you to confirm your faith and tells you that everyone else has been talking about it. The way he looks at you the rest of the day is a look you will encounter a lot starting here on out. It’s the look your Muslim friends and acquaintances will give you when they discover your faith and accordingly, remove you from the “Us” box and place you in the “Them” box. Get used to this look.

You start to become a bit paranoid wondering if the person treating you so inconsiderately is doing it because they don’t like you or because they have problems with your faith. It is probably, a bit of both.

Also read: Ahmadi place of worship set ablaze in Jhelum, riots erupt after blasphemy allegations

The news of more killings and threats just keep coming in and you become worried every time your father leaves the house. Whenever a group of people goes by your house chanting religious slogans you become scared and pray that they are not headed to your door. Get used to this fear too.

Work

Congratulations! You have landed a job.

You happily head off to work but over the next few days, a funny thing happens.

No one will respond when you greet them. Often times, colleagues will insist on questioning your beliefs, trying to draw you into conversations about religion. Do not fall into this trap.

Also read: Are Ahmadis just as persecuted in other Muslim-majority countries?

People will ask you if your family is really rich whenever they find out that you are an Ahmadi. They will also ask about other stereotypes about your community. They will ask you about the growing reports of Ahmadis and other minorities being locked up for ‘hurting religious sentiments’.

You will get tired of the looks when they switch you over from the “Us” to “Them” box. But slowly, you will become less afraid to disclose your faith.

You will also be less afraid of the verbal diatribes. You will realise that bigots who stop being friends with you over your faith are not friends worth having.

What you will not lose, however, is the fear that grips your heart ever so tightly every time your father or any other member of your family steps out of the house. That does not go away.

—The name of the writer has been changed for security reasons.