Qatar قطر

I first arrived in Qatar in the year before the turn of the new millenium. It was for me the first time that I'd lived in a new place and was, for three years, my home. After the initial settling in period, I grew to love the place as did my young family and we have fond memories of our time living in Al Khor in the north and discovering a new and exciting region. In the interim, I have lived and worked in other places, and passed through Qatar, staying in Doha en route to the UAE where I also made my home. Today I return to the country that was once home, with an older family, and to a much changed country. I am here this time for a family event, but amongst the most exciting aspects I hope to experience, will be to return to those places that were familiar, when, fifteen years ago, this was a fledgling country with a mere population of 600,000. The Gulf isn't quite out of my system, I confess. For example, when I send an email, I edit the signature tag that still carries my old cell number.  Also, when I write this blog, whilst the dates are accurate, the times that are published by each posting actually reflect Gulf Standard Time. Memories perhaps?

Qatar. I am home. Enjoy the film.

د مور دعا

د مور دعا

ماته وغواړه مورجــــانی مغفـــــرت
چې نصیب می ستا دعا شې هم رحمت
ته دعـــــــا د زړه دکــــومی راته وکړه
ستا دعا کې دی د ټول جـــــهان طاقت
اوس زه ستا د دعا ګانو ډیر محـتاج یم
ځکه ستا دپښــــو  دلاندی دې جــــنت
ته ځـولۍ د رحـــمتونو راخــوره کــړه
ستا ځولۍ کې دي دنــیا او اخـــــــرت
که هر څو زه ستا نه ځاراوصدقه شم
در به نه کړای شم بدل ستا دزحــمت
زه عادل ستا دعا په طمع ناســـت یم
چې محروم نه شم له دغه لوي نعمت

Original Post: Nasim Shah 

Photograph: Samsung Galaxy S4

Tor_Khan تور خان

Grandfathers

Because of the distances presented by my parent's migration to England, I didn't grow up with either of my grandfathers and only saw them during a trip to Pakistan when I was still in first school. I have fading memories of my maternal grandfather, Ghulam Nadir, and some almost equally blurred images of my paternal grandfather, Ali Akbar.

My father's grandfather went by the fine name of Arsalaan and his father was Ras Gul, and so it continues. They are mostly known by their singular names (Khan and Gul as honorific titles) at a time when hard records were not always kept. It's important, however, to have knowledge of your past and this thread is dedicated to that important patrilineal lineage of grandfathers.

 

Tor_Khan تور خان

Click here and here to read more.

Age

The ageing process is something that provokes many emotional responses. In some ways the positive aspects should outweigh the negative. Maturity and wisdom are attributes that are almost always associated with the experience that can come with age. (Note the italic).

But the other side is that age can be cruel. In my case, I have seen both my parents struggle with their general health and I have observed a slowing down in their activities. To their absolute credit they still go about doing as much as they can but the worry and the obvious dependencies are increasingly evident. May Allah continue to keep them strong in faith, body and mind. Ameen.

A year and a half ago, at about this point my parents were midway through a 'sabbatical' year that they decided would be best spent away from Yorkshire soaking in the heat of Pakistan. My reasons thus for being in Pakistan were simple - my mother had not been well and even if only for four hours, I flew to Karachi to see her.

Culturally, my upbringing has me left me hard-wired in such a way so that living in a joint family situation with my parents is a role that I easily slip in to. Simply put, I need to be there for my folks and this has influenced a lot of the decisions throughout my adult life so there have been periods when I have put my own plans to one side and opted to live under the same roof. 

Whilst I wrestle with those moments when duties, ambition and responsibilities pull me in different directions, one of the worst things about watching everyone get older is seeing how the circle of people that my parents had built around themselves, slowly dying away. It is those gaps left behind that I find hard to address. Death stares us in the face and for most of us age will bring its inevitable challenges. Dealing with these whilst trying to fulfil our own individual living dreams is something that I don't think I have had much preparation for. It is not death, but the thought that age can leave others feeling dependent and alone, that troubles me the most. 

A Family Is Like

A Family Is Like

© Nicole M. O'Neil

A family is like a circle

the connection never ends

and even if at times it breaks

in time it always mends

A family is like the stars

somehow there always there

families are those who help

who support and always care

A family is like a book

the endings never clear

but through the pages of the book

their love is always near

A family is many things

with endless words that show

who they are and what they do

and how they teach you so you know

But don’t be weary if it's broken

or if through time its been so worn

families are like that-

they're split up and always torn

But even if this happens

your family will always be

they help define just who you are

and will be apart of you eternally

  Dedicated to many many people ;)

Bright Eyes

So why would I dedicate a post to two Netherland Dwarf Rabbits? I'm not sure, tell the truth, but the pictures here warm the heart. If I think about my reasons further, then perhaps, it's a case of having been there once before. I also owe this one to my daughter who carries the badge for the next generation in the family who have taken up animal care whilst young.

 

Meet Camembert and Harrod.

Taken using my Samsung Galaxy S.

Keep Calm and Carry On

Freedom Is In Peril. Defend It With All Your Might

Your Courage, Your Cheerfulness, Your Resolution Will Bring Us Victory

and

Keep Calm and Carry On

I don't care much for propaganda and the organised public hysteria that is generated to support a war, but the impact of the words, the lettering, the style and layout are what draw my attention. The Keep Calm and Carry On poster, appeared in 1939 and was a series of three propaganda posters by the British Ministry of Information designed to garner support for the war. Click here to view a sample. The posters have now passed on into popular culture and just recently a version of this appeared* on my iPad. As such, the poster is the inspiration for today's post.  

 Tor_Khan تور خان

 Click here to customise your own version of this.

*courtesy of someone very dear

Textbook Conversations

Shuttling between Kabul, Islamabad, Rawalpindi, Attock, Karachi, Abu Dhabi and Manchester over a period of four days is pretty hectic. Several flights, taxi rides, meetings, dinners and family formalities later, I take the opportunity to reflect on conversations that I've had with people. Briefly I want to consider Pakistan - damaged by internal strife, poor international press and yet still trying to build an image for itself.

I'm always willing to learn in order to understand more, but that does not mean I passively accept everything that is said. I had an interesting dinner in Islamabad, where the host accepted that Pakistan had a poor public image but his view was that Pakistan survived despite aggressive policies by greater enemies because of Allah's protection and that the neighbours - India and Afghanistan could not be trusted. I heard a similar view in Karachi - that India was ready to 'attack' Pakistan. Rather than contemplate the failings within, the commonality was one of finger-pointing and feeling sorry that Pakistan had failed to live up to its founder's ideals. In short the view was that the country was misrepresented and misunderstood and that the leaders were little more than stooges for the UK and the US. 

I have a family connection to Pakistan, but I have always been a little ambivalent about what the country stands for - and whilst I always want it to be better for the common people, I don't claim to be automatically forgiving. As much as I try to understand the passions of the country, I see significant failures and widespread alienation. What emerged from the conversations I had with people is how commonly held values (myths?) about Pakistan are not questioned or challenged. These opinions form what may be considered the "textbook" view within Pakistan.  There are voices from beyond that ask legitimate questions, but these seem to be filtered out of the media within because they criticise the basis on which the country stands. I think that this fundamentally comes down to an education system that has operated much like the state's propaganda machine where critical thinking is not encouraged.

Most people in Pakistan think of survival, so I can forgive some of the apathetic acceptance of the way things are, but if an educational culture of critical thinking were to exist, then there could be serious questions asked about the status quo. A kind of enlightenment, no less.

Malla Kalyan

د مور او پلار حق

I love the accessibility of Kabir Stori's writing. I owe him a mention as he remains a modern literary master whose published work range from writings on psychology, philosophy, politics to poetry.

Dr Stori died in 2006, but he is impressioned forever, in many of his verses. His signature trick was to have a little mention of himself somewhere (quite often at the end) of his verses. I like this - it's a clever writing device indeed. In this poem, entitled Haq, حق from his Khwagai Misrai خوږې مسرۍ collection, we are reminded of the importance of our parents. Next to our duty of faith and love of Allah, our parents rank very highly. May Allah bless all of ours.

I dedicate this one to mine.

Tor_Khan تور خان

حق

اول حق په هر بنده د خداى غفار دى

پس د داى نه، بيا حق د مور او پلار دى

پس له مرګه به ئى هم روح ناارام وى

چې اخستى چا د مور او پلار ازار دى

په د نيا كى هم ښه ورځ موند لى نه شي

چې خد مت د مور او پلار نه څوك انكار دى

د بخت ستوری به ئى روڼ وي تل تر تله

چې رښتيا د مور او پلار څوك خد متګار دى


ډاکتر کبير ستوری 

Life's A Journey

We traverse through this life we are living as a gift from Allah. It is a journey for each of us - a unique and very personal journey; one that touches upon the paths our lives travel. No two paths are the same and each one of us is living a personal experience with our life. 

This year has had me and those that I love and care for shuttling back and forth between East and West, moving between time and cultural zones in order to bridge gaps, leaving a trail of experience behind us. Last week I was in Yorkshire, this week I am in Abu Dhabi.

I have sensed change for some time now, and whilst I have often thought it wiser to allow myself time to explore my innermost thoughts within the safe sphere of myself, invariably there comes a time when we begin to outwardly express our apprehensions and hopes. 

I know that in this journey of life, we press on. Much more I will not say now, except to return to that very first post that I made here in which I considered life to be a journey and myself to be a traveller on that journey. With every step may I be guided by Allah. Ameen. That is my deepest desire.

"To finish the moment, to find the journey's end in every step of the road, to live the greatest number of good hours is wisdom." ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

سپوږمۍ ته سلام

!سلام سپوږمیه

Salaam Dear Moon 

 زما اوستا ترمنځ شوغرونه

سپینې سپوږمۍ ته سلام به کړمه

عبدل کبیرکاکړ

Photograph of the Moon taken by Tor Khan.
Yorkshire, Summer 2010 using a Sony Exmor. 

The landay is dedicated to someone.

Mashar - مشر

 إنا لله وإنا إليه راجعون

An elder dies, (a Mashar in our community) and he leaves behind his worldly suffering and the body that had imprisoned him of late. He moves on. Our Creator calls. Here, in this world, people  mourn the loss and the space left behind by the Mashar. This is a prescribed plan in Allah's design for us all -  the people who have lived and died before us have already taken this path - and so the Mashar is not alone. We have yet to follow, be released from our own bonds and shackles and make that journey. Allah has already written this for us all.

May Allah  guide us all and grant the Mashar*, the Kashar**, the Shaheed*** and all their loved ones faith and peace.

Ameen.

Tor_Khan تور خان 

*an elder, **a younger one, ***a martyr

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

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. 

Thou Art An Eagle

"Thou art an eagle, thou doest belong to the sky and not to the earth, stretch forth thy wings and fly." — Paul H Dunn

The months leading up to what would be a traditional summer break presented a series of minor challenges, a test of my ability to cope with change, disappointment, expectation and balancing family needs. In life many things change, and right now, I find myself, having side-stepped from the education advisory role that I'd had for the past couple of years, back into the classroom as the deliverer of excellence - once again, metaphorically speaking, at the chalk-face. Long term, I look in many different directions and seek the inevitable pursuit of my dreams and ambitions; the desire to complete my MA and to be like an eagle.

... Deep within, I wish to fly ... for now I roll ahead solo, but change awaits ...

Deluge

The monsoon floods in Khyber Pakhtoonkhwa and surrounding areas are a reminder of the helplessness of the ordinary folk and the suffering they continue to endure.

I have family affected by the rising waters, the panic and the scramble for safety. Latest reports say that 400,000 are already displaced in the biggest floods in the area since 1929.

Retribution? Wrath? I don't know. We have suffered greatly - may Allah keep us all in care. It is our duty to step in now and after the waters reside to help rebuild.

pictures taken from the BBC/Associated Press

When A Leaf Falls ...

... it tumbles to it roots.

I have incredibly mixed feelings. For years, I have tried to define myself and here I am, at the doorstep of my past. I do miss my family, so it's good to be amongst their company. It's been two years since I was here so I guess I should honour this one with a verse.

Britannia!

When Britain first, at Heaven's command
Arose from out the azure main;
This was the charter of the land,
And guardian angels sang this strain:

"Rule, Britannia! Britannia rule the waves."
"Britons never will be slaves."

... erm, sure ...

Human Connectivity 2

Continuing with the model of doubling our ancestors each generation that we go back, presents an inherent anomaly because we end up - just by going back two thousand years with a million trillion people in our immediate ancestry. That, is said to be more than the number of people who ever lived. So there must be a logical explanation.

The pyramid model means that two uniquely unrelated people came together to parent the next generation. However, a rather different model may show that two parents of one of our ancestors might not have been so distantly related and therefore there may be overlap. An individual may have cousin-parents and thus six great-grandparents rather than eight. Before the time of mass travel when people lived in small villages, individual genes came often from a tight pool .

Expand that out and people begin to connect with one another very rapidly. I think this says something very important about people in general and this challenges ideas of genetic diversity supposedly used to present ideas of superiority and racial separateness. If our ancestors were related then so are we and today we're all very much part of a continuing human web. There are plenty of overlaps and whatever our race and ethnicity, ultimately of course, we all go back to the same source.

Human Connectivity 1

An interesting thought that is touched upon in Bill Bryon's book is that of the human chain of connectivity. In exploring genetics and inheritance through Mathematics he shows that, according to a pyramid model, it becomes something of an impossibility. My interest in this means that I look upon this through a different lens - I'm more interested in what it eventually says about US as people and how, ultimately we are all connected - whatever our racial and ethnic background.

Consider the Mathematics that Bryon explores: we have 2 parents and 4 grandparents and 8 great-grandparents. 16 people were our grandparents' grandparents and this increases the further we go back. Eight generations back, we we owe our biological existence to 256 people and so on.

SELF
2 PARENTS
4 GRANDPARENTS
8 GREAT-GRANDPARENTS
16 GREAT-GREAT-GRANDPARENTS
32 GREAT-GREAT-GREAT-GRANDPARENTS
64 GREAT-GREAT-GREAT-GREAT-GRANDPARENTS
128 GREAT-GREAT-GREAT-GREAT-GREAT-GRANDPARENTS
256 GREAT-GREAT-GREAT-GREAT-GREAT-GREAT-GRANDPARENT
512 GREAT-GREAT-GREAT-GREAT-GREAT-GREAT-GREAT-GRANDPARENTS
(keep on doubling the figure to go back another generation)

Twenty generations back (about 450 years) we are related to 1,048,576 great ancestors. Five generations before, our existence depends on 33,554,432 people - another five generations before (30 generations back) and we are now counting in figures over a billion. Continue this trend and go back to the time of the Romans and the time-line by which the Gregorian Calendar is fixed (2000 years), then we have a total number of one million trillion people in our immediate ancestry.

According to those who study paleodemographics however, there is something wrong here ... because that last figure is more than the said number of people who have ever lived ...

... allow me to continue in the next instalment InshAllah ...

Bon Appétit - نوش جان

پُلاو
Pulao

Pulao is one of my favourites. It is made by cooking basmati rice in a broth-like sauce and can be made with lamb, chicken, beef or vegetables. Qabili Pulao is baked in the oven and topped with fried sliced carrots and raisins. Chopped nuts, chickpeas and potatoes may be added as well.

I am not the chef here, Dear Readers. The credit goes to the Mrs. Alhamdulilah I am well looked after, and this is her page.

It is Pashtoon tradition to share a meal. Please be seated on the dasterkhwan and join me.

Bon Appétit & نوش جان

Tor_Khan تور خان