Dancing Past the Ivory Tower

It wasn’t an ordinary day at work. I’d been called into the proverbial ‘supervisor’s office’ for a discussion about my recent projects. Fair enough, I thought. I’ve led programs in emergency medicine, innovation, wellness, and research.

But no. This wasn’t about any of that.

Seated across from me were two senior colleagues, firmly rooted in the traditions of academic medicine; faces tight, as if I'd ‘Zalsa’ed’ over a patient chart.

Yes, you read that right. Not a research misstep, not an issue with departmental operations - dancing. Specifically, the Zalsa sessions I lead, share about, and - horror of horrors - post on social media.

“It’s unbecoming of someone of your stature,” one said, with a look so grave you’d think I had performed a Zalsa routine on the hospital helipad.

The other nodded sagely, as if this intervention might save me from further professional disgrace.

For a moment, I wondered if I was in a workplace sitcom. Was this an episode of The Office: Academic Edition? But no, they were serious.

That’s when it hit me: these aren’t just individuals. They represent a mindset deeply entrenched in the hallowed halls of academia and medicine. A mindset that believes innovation can only exist in sterile conference rooms, leadership must always be stoic, and God forbid a professor… dances.

As absurd as this conversation was, it wasn’t new. It’s a symptom of a larger issue. A refusal to see past assumptions, a dismissal of different approaches, and a belief that authority is somehow diminished by authenticity.

Let’s be honest: their reaction isn’t about dance. It’s about control. It’s about preserving a certain image of what a leader, a professor, or a doctor is supposed to look like.

The irony? These same individuals will wax poetic about ‘innovation’ and ‘mental health initiatives’ at global conferences, only to balk at Zalsa - an intervention rooted in movement, connection, and emotional well-being.

Wisdom doesn’t always come with age; sometimes it just grows old and stubborn.

Now that we’ve set the (long) stage, let’s dive into it. Beyond the office door, beyond the supervisory frowns, and right onto the dance floor of Karachi, academia, and the stories we tell ourselves.

Living in Karachi, a city often caricatured as ‘dangerous’ or ‘intolerant,’ has been one of the greatest ironies of my life. For all its contradictions, Karachi has been strangely liberating.

Here, beneath the chaos, exists a vibrant undercurrent of resilience and creativity.

Ironically, this so-called 'intolerant' Karachi has often felt more accepting and adaptable than parts of America, where intolerance and polarization are growing despite claims of progressiveness.

If anything, Karachi’s chaos fosters unexpected connections, offering lessons in embracing complexity rather than rushing to judgment.

Zalsa wasn’t born in a Karachi boardroom. It wasn’t the brainchild of an expensive consultancy firm. It was born from a simple idea: that movement, rhythm, and joy can be powerful connectors in and for healthcare.

In one Zalsa session at the University Hospital, a usually reserved healthcare researcher wearing a headscarf hesitated at first: arms stiff, eyes darting around the room. For her, the headscarf might have seemed like an unspoken boundary in this space. But as the music played and the group moved together, something shifted. By the end, she was laughing, moving freely, and, most importantly, connecting. It wasn’t about her headscarf, nor perfect footwork; it was about breaking barriers. In that moment, dance became more than movement: it became connection made visible.

Here’s the real kicker: students get it. They understand the value of connection, movement, and creative expression.

Through years of teaching, mentoring, and leading workshops, I’ve watched students grow. Not just into skilled professionals, but into empathetic leaders.

Sometimes, wisdom comes from those still willing to ask, ‘Why not?’

So, to my seasoned colleagues, my skeptical supervisors, and the biomedical journal’s anonymous reviewer who also dismissed dance workout as ‘unbecoming of an academic hospital setting in Pakistan’, here’s my message: the world doesn’t need more academic rigidity nor rigid professors. It needs flexibility and flexible thinkers. It needs leaders who understand that wellness and wellbeing aren't side projects - they are fundamental.

Therefrore, step out of assumptions. Step into rhythm. When in doubt, just dance.

And finally, if dancing in the Islamic Republic is wrong… then I’ll dance anyway.

from Rambling of an Itinerant

Reference: https://tribune.com.pk/story/2420198/dance-like-your-life-depends-on-it