نوي ژوند يــو نـــوې خوږ داستان دے

I share a verse dedicated to my nephew whom I think the world of. May Allah keep him in care, prosperity and happiness. Ameen. Written by Feroz Afridi, especially at my request. Dera Manana Feroz Mashra!.

ما چې کله اوريدلې دا نويــــــــــد دے

چې واده د ګران باچا عاصم رشيد دے

زړه مې ډير زيات دے خوشحاله بې حسابه

لکه زيـــرې په روژه پســــې د عيد دے

دا د نوي ژوند يــو نـــوې خوږ داستان دے

چې د نوې ژوند په خپلو کښې وعيد دے

زما ټولې دعاګانـــــــــــــــــې ورسره دي

چې د کور د خوشحالو په کښې تجديد دے

د باچــــــا نو کورنـــــــــــئ دي وي اباده

نن باچــــا تـــور خــــان پکښې سعيد دے

Tor_Khan تور خان

The Struggle

I was visited in school today by a gentleman called Ayedh Al Tamemi whom I mention here because I worked with him for a key part of last year in an advisory capacity. I was responsible for coaching and mentoring him as he worked his way through his first year in teaching. He represents, in many ways, the 'new' face of education in public schools here in the UAE. Forward thinking, experimental, adaptable and ambitious.

This sets Ayedh apart from other teachers, mostly expat Arabs (from poorer backgrounds), who make up the bulk of the system. Ayedh, whilst still growing as an educator, asked me to write him a recommendation so that he could eventually enrol on a Masters in Educational Leadership in New York. Paid in full by ADEC, whilst he will retain his teaching salary. Way to go! I only wish my MA was paid for in the same way and I got to travel. Sounds envious, but I speak here of the wider investment in people both small and on a global scale.

It's difficult for the other teachers in the UAE public system to raise their own motivation levels. Apart from being ill-prepared, their motivations cannot be the same as Emiratis, since they have less stake in the system. Laziness and apathy is only part of it - mostly expat teachers are on the fringes, dis-empowered and unable to affect change within. They are largely unsupported, have fewer opportunities for professional development and cannot grow roots within the UAE because of the expat set-up.

Public schools, here, are on the whole, poor and the process of change is hindered by these very obstacles. Give people a stake - a reason -  and watch desire to see students achieve and professional commitment rise. As an advisor in schools and as a chalkface educator I have long recognised this struggle. It starts with teachers who are happy, supported and appropriately challenged; not with hurdles, bureaucracy, unrealistic expectations, inadequate resources and no clear sense of hope for tomorrow.

Whilst education costs because it requires financial commitment, it should not be at the cost of the individuals who educate.

Pearl Rain; Fountain Tears

ستا د سترګو بلا واخلم

Sta Da Stergo Bala Wakhlam

 written by Amanullah Sailab Sapi

امان الله سيلاب ساپی

This naghma was recorded by Ustad Awal Mir and remains amongst the classics in Pashto poetry and music. My favourite lines inspired the title to this posting.

داباران د ملغلرو كه د اوښكو فوارې دي

Da Baran Da Malghalaroy

Ka Da Ukhko Fuwarai De

Pearl Rain: Fountain Tears

Credits for the tablet design to Aftab Yusufzai

Tor_Khan تور خان

Reflection and Introspection

Here in the UAE, we have the largest population of Pashtoons outside their homelands - Pakistan and Afghanistan, so everyday, I see plenty of people who are, as they say, rather familiar.

However, of late, I have found some things a challenge - separation from those you love and care about is foremost. There is something of a kind of hollowness to some parts of the day. Mealtimes for instance. 

It isn't the first time that I have been 'forced' to work away. In fact most of the Pashtoon guest workers here in the Gulf live just that kind of existence. They live, several men to a room, toiling their shifts to feed their families at home. Over Eid, for instance, I had that experience. I visited a cousin in Sharjah and had a couple of beautifully restful days, listening to people in their deira which serves as a hujra and enjoying their melmastiya. I met with my mother's first cousin (an uncle) and my great-grandfather's grandson, which of course would also make him, in the Pashtoon tapestry of things, an uncle.

I know that I am lucky. I belong to a slightly different social demographic so my 'struggle' is much more comfortable. Still, the heart is cruel.

There are aspects to my job that I very much find positive. I feel that I give and gain trust, but there are constant hurdles which slow down my aspirations.The hours are long and this leaves me less downtime - so here's my criticism - education which is supposed to bring hope and inspiration can end up bleeding that very hope and inspiration of those who work so tirelessly to make it bear fruit. I find myself in that place. 

I have learned a lot this past year and whilst I'm not sure of what happens next, I feel change. It is not yet winter and here I am, at a crossroads, looking, left, right, forwards, backwards and introspectively. 

Only Breath - Rumi

Who am I?

 What is to be done, O Muslims?

For I do not recognize myself.

Only Breath

Not Christian or Jew or Muslim, not Hindu
Buddhist, sufi, or zen.
Not any religion or cultural system.
I am not from the East or the West,
Not out of the ocean or up from the ground,
Not natural or ethereal, not composed of elements at all.
I do not exist,
I am not an entity in this world or in the next,
Did not descend from Adam and Eve or any origin story.
My place is placeless, a trace of the traceless.
Neither body or soul.
I belong to the beloved,
Have seen the two worlds as one and that one call to and know,
First, last, outer, inner, only that breath breathing human being.

  
English Translation Essential Rumi by Coleman Barks

Dancing Around The World

"14 months in the making, 42 countries, and a cast of thousands. Thanks to everyone who danced with me." Matt Harding.

I love this. In a world where there is much to lament about, I love the simple hope that this video conveys.

Featuring the vocals of Palbasha Siddique. Lyrics to the track "Praan" adapted from "Stream of Life", from the Gitanjali by Rabrindanath Tagore.

IX.XI

Remembrance And Hope

Nine years ago, this date - 9/11 - became immortalised in our common knowledge and the lexis of probably most the languages on the Earth.

I love the American spirit.

I always have. Feisty, independent, accommodating and where people can live the dream. Nine years ago, The United States of America was hurt. There, I've said it.

I love the Afghan spirit.

I love the land of Afghanistan because the history is in my blood. The land that is and was Afghanistan gave rise to the Pashtoon people, my present and past. I love the Pashtoon way, no-nonsense, independent, accommodating, and a people who dream of so much more than they have. Nine years ago, the events in the US meant that the Americans invaded Afghanistan. The country is still hurting. For so many, the wounds are open, exposed and infected.

For that dynamic alone, we should remember 9/11.

For now, that is.

But one day, I hope we can free ourselves from this past. One day, I hope, that we learn to understand that ordinary Afghans had nothing to do with the events in New York and Washington. I hope that people are allowed to mourn their losses in private without a date being used to divide us into polar opposites.

I hope that in letting go, we reach an understanding that all is not what it appears. I hope that the innocent are not punished for that that they didn't do. I hope that those with power understand that we must ensure the safety of each other, but allow people to find their own way. I hope that people are not so poor that they are vulnerable to being manipulated for the selfish motives of others.

And I hope that one day when we are free, we fully understand that collectively we are the custodians of the Earth and that collectively our freedom, prosperity and peace are mutual.

Tor_Khan تور خان

Note: The title for this entry is IX.XI. I have used the Roman Numerals to indicate today's date. Whilst I'm sure that others have discovered this before me, note that in Roman Numeral form, the date is of course a Palindrome and is read the same reading from the left or the right.