an itinerant observer

To, Medical Students Wherever & whenever Dec. 31, 2015 Dear Medical Students, Upon returning to Pakistan and resuming my medical career in Karachi after 15 years in Houston, I became acutely aware of my buttons. Those, if touched, would get my goat. If done at a particularly inopportune time then activation of said buttons would make me rebellious. And that was not a good omen for you. Perhaps you could extol my being attuned to my ins and outs – in particular, realization of my dark side, what triggered it and how I manage to control it, being part of the learning that you, my dear medical students, forced upon me.    Today’s letter is about the most significant of those buttons. I call it “The Button”. I realized early on, “The Button” was being called “Sir”.  It all began when I started receiving seemingly innocuous email from you. Email that would inevitably start with the salutation “Dear Sir….”, or ‘Respected Sir..”, or “Dear Respected Sir…”. At

Disclaimer : This is not a movie review (as I'm not a movie critic). It started with the need to have minions at my beck and call 24/7. Never ending work, without a break, and lack of readily available home help had led to a frustrating situation. Although I was desirous of minions, in reality it was highly unlikely to happen. So I relegated myself to the virtual world of minions. I'm not a huge fan of Disney-Pixar's animated movies. This time, however, my kids ensured that I would accompany them to watch the latest ‘cartoon’. Not having watched ‘Despicable Me’ prior to this I was a bit curious to see for myself what all the hangama was about. My kids had been incessant about the minions. So on Eid day 3, since I was neither on call at home nor in the ER, I took my kids to watch the much anticipated movie. It was not entirely disappointing. The minions’ main objective is simple: to seek out and offer their services to the most evil person alive. Thus, the evil doer

When I hear the word ‘Pakistan’ on CNN, BBC, or even FOX news for that matter, there’s that sinking feeling of, “Oh no, what now?” Reflexively I expect another story of doom and gloom to unfold. I might rush to Pakistani newspapers and TV channels hoping that they might provide a somewhat objective viewpoint. Alas, they too, at times, tend to obfuscate reality and create an alternative one that is a better fit for conspiracy theorists.    It is time to move past political punditry and journalistic jingoism. Perhaps it is time for the Diaspora to talk and write about good things in Pakistan.       Before reaching this semi-conclusion, I felt I had arrived at a crossroads - I could either delve in apathy and antipathy for Pakistan, or write about a potential way out of my dilemma. I choose to write since that is my comfort zone. I will try to describe the problem first. What's happening in Pakistan is complex. ‘ Corruption’ , a common buzzword, is rampant. The life

“Enaya has told another child in class that the world will end on December 21, 2012. This is unacceptable behavior…”,  were the 1 st lines of the email from the class teacher. Enaya aka Noori, the 6-year-old 1 st grader had happened to mention the Mayan prophecy to her young class fellow. She had done so without realizing the repercussions of mentioning doomsday scenarios in a public school setting. Maybe saying such things in a private school might not have generated a hyper-anxious email from the class teacher. Ayesha and I promptly responded to the email. I think Ayesha did so a bit apologetically. I, on the other hand, gave a complete account of the Mayan prophecy that I had taken quite a fascination to. I explained to the teacher that per that prediction made many hundreds of years ago, the world was going to end in a few weeks. I went on to inform the teacher that what Noori had mentioned was well known to most, if not all in Houston. The publicity of the world ending