an itinerant observer

A few weeks back I received an invitation to present a keynote at the Iqra University for a conference on education . When I first received the email, my first thought was that it was either spam or sent to me mistakenly. For three reasons. (1) I’m a doctor and researcher, (2) what do I have to do with pedagogy of education; in fact, I shudder whenever I am faced with something like that, and (3) the exit route – not to get involved in more things when you are already doing two full time jobs.   Anyhow, on reading the email further, I was hooked: I came across phrases like ‘Covid-19 has changed our assumptions’ , ‘rethinking education and learning spaces’ , but above all, ‘sustainable education and educating sustainability’. Although, to be honest, I had to remind myself that the latter wasn’t just a tongue twister! Once reassured that I indeed was the intended recipient of the invitation, and that I indeed would be the right person for this, I started with drafting a brief out...

Upon reading Homo Deus, I was mesmerized by the mind of Yuval Noah Harari - or brain perhaps I should say, as he believes much more in the objective nature of the latter. In an attempt to summarize what I had learned from the book and to create a cheat sheet for myself, I wrote a blog on Homo Deus . I listed the five most important reasons from my perspective for reading the book, and concluded the blog with three actionable steps for the reader, which to me seemed organically linked to those five points I had raised about the book. Those three were: (i) reinvent thyself, (ii) go forth and create/innovate, (iii) allow yourself to be multi-talented. Fast forward a few years, and I find myself in an even more dystopian world, with a pandemic raging unabatedly and unabashedly. Being an ER physician, I find myself caught at the frontlines of the Covid-19 tempest. After almost a year of being grounded because of severely restricted travel, the first opportunity I get to fly and I find Harar...

I was in Downtown Denver for a conference. After a few days, and several hours of one particular day, of medical conferencing, I had maxed out on ‘knowledge’ intake. Something like that had happened to me around a decade ago, while I was in Boston for a conference with a different theme. I recalled walking out of the Boston Convention Center and making my way to Charles River where I befriended Jonathan Seagull. Although one hell of a serendipitous occurrence, that is a story to be retold another day. As that blast from the past played itself in my head, I took that as a sign. Hence, I decided to follow through on the urge to step outside of the huge Colorado Convention Center for a stroll. At that time I didn’t have any particular destination in mind. And strolling was a significant understatement, because of the freak snowstorm while I was in Denver. The blizzard had not created an easy walking atmosphere in the Downtown District, but I braved my way eastward – as far away as I cou...

“Baba, today you may pick me up early and take me to the zoo”. And thus Noori had spoken. Noori the kindergartner was obviously having some withdrawal symptoms since she had not been to the zoo in over a month. Noori and Baba frequented the zoo, at times twice a month, albeit for brief visits. Having a yearly membership to the Houston zoo enabled such frequent jaunts to one of the most favorite shared activity spots for the daughter-dad duo. What was more likely though: Mowgli’s spirit had entered Noori that morning, the way she was rattling off about the characters of the jungle book. After school I took Noori straight to the zoo. Hence, the jungle book, without offense to Mr. Kiping, was re-drafted by Ms. Noori. Mr. Sher Khan and Mrs. Sherni Khanum were ignoring each other. They had an argument about who was arranging dinner that night. Colonel Haathi was brushing his tusks after a huge meal of elephant chow. Bagheera was pacing up and dow...

At the end of the year, change becomes imminent in Karachi. The crisp and fresh winter air (relative only to Karachi’s summer air, mind you) induces one to take up change in all its glory. Therefore, as the denizens of the megapolis pushed ahead with renewed hope for 2019, I too became intoxicated by their excitement. “What change shall I bring about?” I asked myself. When self provided no ready answers, I looked around for change projects that I could take on. I even asked my fellow travelers for suggestions. A few enthusiasts rattled off their new year’s resolutions, thinking that I would pick something of their interest. The list ranged from working towards the elimination of poverty, disease, violence, and workplace harassment, to acceptance of keto/paleo diets, dance therapy, weight and stress management lifestyles, and so on. To me all that seemed like a lot of effort vis-a-vis work, time and money. I went back to self for further introspection. I mulled about a sin...

“Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy? Caught in a landslide, no escape from reality Open your eyes , look up to the skies and see I'm just a poor boy, I need no sympathy …” Bohemian Rhapsody by Freddie Mercury And I was hooked. How could I not be? I was 15 when I heard the above, a lifetime ago. Being drawn into those words could merely be attributed to a teenager’s existential angst, but in my head, it was clear that Freddie Mercury was writing and singing for me and me alone. That he crooned the song in a most rhapsodizing manner, was a bonus. Thus, I began my love affair with Bohemian Rhapsody, arguably one of the most influential songs of all time, performed by the band Queen.   I was in high school when I fell in love with that song. For me, that was a time of trials and tribulations. Societal acceptance at that age and stage of my life essentially boiled down to peer acceptability. Perhaps it was not so surprising that except for those fe...