an itinerant observer

Photo-credit: Saniya Kamal, AKU MBBS ' 18 I enter the corridor of my new work place. I’m welcomed and introduced all around. For some reason, best known to her, the human resource lady took so much of my time that I am already pissed and looking angry. I don’t feel comfortable in this different setup and I terribly miss my old working place. Every single thing about it which previously used to get on my nerves is acutely missed. However, I succumb to my new work because it has been over a year since I practiced medicine and the sole reason for me to be here is to get distracted from my mental chaos and to focus elsewhere. In a matter of hours I find myself adjusting here, understanding the work dynamics, and the system around here. It’s easy - not challenging, likely because there’s ample time at hand which I can utilize to study while earning. Not a bad deal!    This is a dialysis department of a semi-private hospital. Every single patient here is dependent on dialysis

Boston skyline from across Charles River How it all Started and Leading up to the Event A year back I was at a medical conference in Boston. In between sessions, with my mind phased out by the academic overdrive, I came across a promotional flyer for a certain ‘Medical Hackathon’ to be organized by MIT as part of their ‘ Hacking Medicine’ initiative. Unclear what it was about, I asked my team at the Aga Khan University in Karachi, Pakistan, to investigate further. My team and I had been expanding ‘Critical Creative Innovative Thinking’ - a platform pushing for reformation in thinking and doing via biomedicine and healthcare for low-resource countries; hence, they found this event quite relatable and the response I received from the very capable young colleagues, predominantly medical students, excited me. Medical hackathons were events in which MIT Hacking Medicine brought together engineers, clinicians, entrepreneurs, designers and financiers to ‘hack out’ tangible solu

Illustration / Photo-credit: Saniya Kamal 'Any man's death diminishes me  Because I am involved in mankind.  And therefore never send to know  For whom the bell tolls  It tolls for thee'                  - John Donne 1571-1631 Some things are meant never to be forgotten. Some things are meant to remain imprinted in one's memory long after the event has passed. Some things have such a profound effect on one that witnessing them changes one's life forever. Many years ago I was witness to such a happening. I have never forgotten it. It has remained imprinted on my memory. And- it changed my life forever.... Fate, it seems, conjures in all sorts of ways for us to be in a certain place at a certain time. More than twenty years ago, fate intervened in my life and I found myself on the tiny Mediterranean island of Malta. You see, when I graduated from the Dow Medical College, Karachi the Pakistan Army wanted me to serve in their ranks for two years

Photo-credit: Saniya Kamal, AKU MBBS '18 How do you tell an eight year old the worst news she will ever hear?  What can you say to her, to make her feel that the idea of dying isn't that bad after all? Marium doesn’t have her parents with her. She’s with her phuppi aur phuppi ka susar (aunt and aunt's father in law). Wow! Worthy intimate relations present to offer emotional support? As these initial medical interactions usually go, I take the full history from the 'close' relatives and perform the exam thoroughly just to go the extra mile to impress my attending. In all the forty or so minutes it takes for me to gather information and study scans, Marium keeps drawing my attention. She's sitting in a corner, just observing everything I do with those big eyes, those big katora (cup) eyes. Every time she blinks, they look bigger than before. The eyes are full of fear and confidence at the same time, asking me so many questions. Yet, she's

Today marked week three of relocation to Karachi from Houston.  My family comprising my wife and two young children, aged eleven and six, respectively, had finally taken the plunge. We had moved back irrespective of the predominantly discouraging comments of well wishers in both cities – their basic contention being that it was not the ‘right time’ to move to Karachi given the volatility, insecurity and unpredictability inherent in that city. Initially, my rambly writings had helped me tremendously in settling down, or at least that’s how it felt. Each week I had attempted to write on something related to Karachi that could be compared and contrasted with Houston. As I had mentioned in a previous entry of the Karachi-Houston diaries, finding something to write about was not always easy. I would scratch my head aplenty and if that didn’t help then I would beseech the muses, more in my heart now, to reveal to me my next writing mission. That morning, I had walked out on to the bal