an itinerant observer

Rakhshee has never done things halfway, and I should have known from the start that her greatest lesson—the art of unyielding resilience—would be her gift to me. She is a teacher in the truest sense, but her methods are far from orthodox. Back in Karachi, she was my history teacher, and her classroom was as much a theater of stories as it was a lecture hall. She did not just teach history; she made us see it, feel it, question it, bringing figures and events to life with a voice that demanded attention. Through her teaching, she subtly reshaped my life’s course, though I did not realize it at the time. Years later, as I drifted deeper into academic medicine, entrenched in medical charts and lectures, I was reminded of Rakhshee’s wisdom—the stories, the humor, and her knack for nudging others toward a broader view of life. Her voice, in many ways, drew me into the world of children’s literature—a realm she opened to me with unexpected passion. She taught me that the only real critics ...

  Storytelling is as old as humanity itself. For thousands of years, it has been humanity’s most powerful tool for understanding, connecting, and transforming. From the first cave paintings to today’s TED Talks, stories have transcended time, language, and culture. But in an era of data overload, rapid technological change, and growing social complexity, storytelling has evolved from a timeless tradition to an indispensable skill. This essay explores storytelling’s relevance in healthcare, business, and design, as well as its potential and challenges in the age of social media, highlighting why it is both an art and a science essential for our time. Why storytelling matters Storytelling transforms data into narratives that resonate, bridging the gap between information and emotion. While facts tell, stories sell. This ability to engage, inform, and move people has made storytelling a cornerstone of leadership, marketing, and innovation. I recall a particularly challenging n...

I recently revisited One Hundred Years of Solitude —this time through Netflix’s lush adaptation. The series swept me into García Márquez's Macondo with its breathtaking cinematography and meticulous attention to detail. Though decades had passed since I first read the novel, its spirit of magical realism, woven into Colombia's historical fabric, felt familiar. The cycles of time, the endless loop of beginnings and endings, reminded me of Nietzsche’s eternal recurrence, the whirling dance of Sufi mystics, and Taoism's tranquil acceptance of life's flow. But the truth is, like the insomnia plague in Márquez's Macondo, the story had faded from my memory over the years. I don’t know if my first reading of One Hundred Years of Solitude in high school truly shaped me. Perhaps it was that novel, alongside The House of the Spirits by Isabel Allende and even The Lord of the Rings by Tolkien, that collectively left their mark. It wasn’t until last week, while watching th...