WE HAVE MOVED

Dear Fellow Bloggers,

We have moved to our official website (and blog):

www.biloongra.com

Hope you continue to follow us from there!

Best wishes,

The team.

 

 

Revisiting Change – The Dawn Of A New Year

A day away from the start of the New Year, we at Biloongra-the blog, are poised; in part contemplation, part gratitude for the past year and for what is to come. So many realizations for us, young and old alike.  Part of the process of ‘change’ we have traversed, that involves changing status quos and creating new paradigms, has been to describe to our readership to the best of our abilities, how we went about it—so that others in a similar predicament might get strength to overcome perceived hurdles.

Here, Mayank, a team member, takes a stab at putting his thoughts to paper. Exposing oneselve’s innermost feelings to the world to explore is not an easy task.  We think that it has become a need for the day, where “change” is concerned. This post is a continuation of what we started discussing earlier. We continue to offer this platform to discuss change in its various contexts, shapes, colors and nuances.

In the meantime, we are grateful to Mayank for taking that leap into the blog. What a pleasant way to initiate the New Year…a Happy New Year, indeed!  

Making That Change: It’s About Listening To One’s Inner Voice

“Sometimes the voice within oneself is so loud, and pulls one to such an extent, that those initial fears you have of commitment disappear. You enter a place of quiet, comfort almost. And here, the most difficult of tasks become second nature.”

 Such was the advice that I received from my grandmother this summer. Maybe the timing was coincidence, maybe it was divine intervention, or maybe some combination of the two, but it couldn’t have been better. The night before, I had engaged in a conversation with my mentor, Dr. Asad Mian, about the philosophy behind what was quickly evolving into a full-fledged philanthropic effort based in educational reform. I had been working with him on “Biloongra” for nearly a year at that point, and after a summer meeting over brunch, the core (us two and our colleague in the effort, Alezeh) had decided to take some grounded steps to launch our effort into the next stage. That night however, our conversation flowed as follows:

 Asad: “Over the past few months we have chipped away at that vexing issue of ‘why should one do anything to change the social context’…versus letting things be. What I’ve figured is that you do ‘good work’ (with its inherent goodness) not because you think it is a good thing to do, but because you understand that it is the only thing you can do, and do nothing else. For serious change to be brought about you stop flirting with choices. Today, when I want to work on a Pakistan-based child education initiative with Alezeh and you, or attempt a study on infections in babies in Karachi, I don’t do these as a matter of choice. I have no choice but to do these things. Does that make sense?  It’s what I call the ‘serve and be served continuum’…when I work with Alezeh and you, guiding you for the book project, it fuels my passion to give of myself unconditionally. And I get a tremendous amount of satisfaction in response. So I can either stop there or keep going because of the momentum. I feel the same where Bookgroup is concerned: I want to serve unconditionally by introducing its goodness (good work) out here by being a spokesperson for it; in return, I get served by the ‘good work’ when I involve young people like Alezeh and yourself in this work…as I said above, so I guess I’m repeating myself…”

Me: “I completely agree with your first sentiment. I think it’s our “choice” that we let ourselves have no choice, however. Of course, being as logically sound and intelligent as you are, I’m sure you could convince yourself that while you feel a need to do these things, it might not the be the time/your priorities might lie elsewhere, etc. But we choose to let the feeling guide us, and are thus, without a choice. That’s how I see it, at the state that I am.  I think you actually address this in the second sentiment. We (you, me, Alezeh) find some sort of fuel in doing this. Albeit the “reward” might not be monetary (at least, none that we seek from this venture), but it does reward us in a much higher manner. Therein, again I think, lays our choice. The choice to do this unconditionally.”

So I guess, in a way, it is not really a choice, but a knowing of sorts. A knowing that what we are doing is grounded in good work and that for some reason, we have to keep at it. I think “burn out” is also avoided by this attitude, as you aren’t making this an exclusive task. It’s a very natural, almost organic thing, and so it feels “right”.

Is it a difficult task to make volunteerism an organic impulse? I had never thought it was, until I was forced to think of the repercussions of sacrificing time from my professional, personal or academic life to devote to the Endeavour at hand. Why is it that we, at Biloongra-Books for Change, even bother pursuing change? Maybe things are the way they are for a reason, and attempting to change the system or break the mold is futile. Maybe change isn’t meant to be.

 But maybe isn’t good enough.

There is an intrinsic voice within each of us, and I believe, that we simply need to give it an opportunity to speak. For when it does, as grandma so aptly put, your purpose in pursuing any task, not just philanthropic, becomes clear, and that mountain that you had to overcome to reach your destination becomes a mere molehill.

About the Author: Mayank Aranke was born in Mumbai, India. A pre-med student at UT-Austin, Mayank is passionate about public health and social work. Via Biloongra-Books for Change, he aspires to learn about social development (education and health-related) in Pakistan and then to replicate that model in rural India. He is an accomplished Hindi and Urdu classical singer, and has performed with a Qawalli troupe based in Austin.

“If Music Be The Food Of Love, Play On…” Promoting Urdu Music Among The South Asian Diaspora

Although conceived to present education reform initiatives in Pakistan, Biloongra-the blog dynamically evolves. It offers a platform to discuss “change“ in the South Asian Diaspora. Thus, we are a multi-purpose entity attempting to fill a much needed niche to dialogue, discuss and debate numerous aspects of our lives, wherever we may be and whatever place we call home.    

Biloongra-the blog takes a bold leap…into people’s homes and their lives to present aspects of them that tend to challenge status quos and define new paradigms.

Music is to the ears what words are to the eyes.  This became evident during the lovely evening of rhythm and rhyme at the Iqbal House in Houston.  Music provides the backdrop to our second guest post. We are grateful to Sara and Shahid for what follows…   

Darbari Shab At The Iqbal house

Sara and I are proud, to the core, to be part of the Pakistani Diaspora. We deeply love and value our culture, heritage, history, art, sense of style, point of view, literature, names and nomenclature. Whereas we appreciate the melting pot known as the United States of America, we consider “our-selves” a Mirchi (chili pepper)—distinctly hot flavor, immediately identifiable for its characteristics. In these times of freeways, fast food, mobile devices, and abbreviated text messages, we dared to ask our friends and family to unplug, power down and literally move down to the floor at our humble abode, for an evening of musical ointment for our aching souls, devoid and parched of Urdu literature. 

The lovely hosts and the MCs!

Evening of December 10th 2011, we co-hosted an evening called “Darbari Shab“ with Ali Iqbal & Nadia Raza Iqbal—avid fans of Pakistani musical legends and Mohammed Rafi. Each guest was requested to wear traditional Mughal clothes from a far away land, then called the land of the pure. Everyone was greeted with Salaam (peace), Adaab (a hand gesture connoting welcome), and Khushamdaid (welcome) as they slipped into lanky chatter with friends and relatives over hors d’oeuvres, soon followed by an aromatic buffet of spicy curries, rice and kebabs with naan (traditional flat bread) and salads.

Traditional foods, contemporary ambiance, happy chatter and warm hugs among friends lasted even after the dinner was over.  Soon everyone was requested to take their places on plush ground seating adorned with carpets, fancy pillows, colorful and hand crafted spreads. Traditional mouth freshener called Shahi Supari was passed around. First round of singers lit up the evening with their melodious songs and poetry in Urdu and Punjabi. 

A few of the singers

Beautiful scores were sung, one after the other, by our very own friends and family—ordinary people performing extraordinarily! None were discriminated based on their previous experience, or lack of it. It didn’t matter if the “shoqeen” (interested participants) had rehearsed or improvised. Slips of notes were forgiven and forgotten. The spirit of participation was encouraged and appreciated. It has always been our wish to promote the Urdu language, our culture, and heritage as ambassadors of Pakistan. We believe this evening sparked such a response among our peers and would hope to viral out of Houston, Texas into other states housing large Pakistani communities.

The "shoqeen" and the beautiful Mughal arrangement

As the evening progressed, traditional chai (tea with milk) was served with Shahi Tukra (Turkish delight) and Firni (rice pudding) as desserts. The floor was then opened to anyone who wished to sing a song of their choice, as long as it was in Urdu. Hidden talent was revealed as medical doctors sang like seasoned singers and bold passionate ones poured their heart and soul into the microphone. Tremendous applause goes to our musicians who played for everyone and accommodated each song with their abundant talent. The keyboard was played by my older brother and percussions were strummed by an old friend.

Let there be singing...

Eventually, the much promised results of a coveted competition came forth. Four lovely guests took home awards for best female and male singer, and best dressed male and female. The Darbari Shab came to an end, but not the passion for Urdu music!

About the authors: Sara and Shahid Iqbal are aficionados of Urdu language & literature. They have been active in spreading Urdu literacy among kids in the Houston desi community.       

Aren’t We The Greatest Opportunity For Our Children?

No matter where you are and whom you are attempting to educate, your own child or someone else’s’, the subject of child education generates a lot of passion and interest. It should. Children are precious. Whatever ‘legacy’ we leave behind, they will have to deal with it. It would be logical to prepare them well to do so.     

In response to last’s week post ‘to private or not to private (school)’ we received a fabulous response. Simi went over and beyond the blogger’s hope for a response to a post, even if a 1-liner. She gave us an extremely well thought out overview of educating our children, in the volatile 21^st century, when interdependence of people, communities and countries, in the East and the West, takes center stage. Her insightful response below, verbatim, takes the much coveted 10^th slot of Biloongra-the blog—the mother of all posts.  Thank you Simi!

To provide some context for those who will read this without reading the previous one: we are discussing public vs. private schooling; the need for child education; what do we want to achieve by getting our kids educated—is it really for ourselves or for our kids, so on and so forth…

…Happy reading (& commenting)…

Simi Says…

I’m facing the same conundrum (of public vs. private schooling) and my being an educator in some ways makes the choice so much more fraught. As mentioned in the last post, it is a personal choice and reflects our hopes and dreams for our children. Throw into the mix that there is a wide variation in the quality of public education between states and between districts and we come to the realization that some highly coveted school districts are basically ‘private’ in that they serve the elite that can afford the home prices. But that’s not an answer; it’s merely the means to an end. And there needs to be a frank discussion about the reasons we educate our children. Like you pointed out – are we merely putting them on a conveyor belt which at the end of ten years will spit out yet another cog? (Here I borrow from the RSA animate video of Ken Robinson’s talk). Or are there actual qualities we want to inculcate in our children to get them ready for a world we can’t yet predict. What is certain is that their world will be different from ours in how it functions, what it values and how they must function in it. (21st Century Skills is another book I’d direct you to).

No matter which system we adopt – both public and private will fail to do so unless it incorporates certain ideas. And here they are: enthusiasm for learning that encourages lifelong learning – because unlike us, our children will likely have more than one career or job, and being successful in that paradigm requires them to be flexible and ready for change. Learning how to work with others – team work, social aptitudes, and communication is going to be important. They will likely work in virtual offices across continents with people brought up with different values – and they have to be ready to bridge those gaps effectively. Being technologically savvy is a given and most kids have access to technology at an age where for them it is ubiquitous and a fact of life. But there is a difference – being a mere consumer of technology versus using technology to create, to affect change and make things better. Unless there is a shift in that mindset, technology is limiting. How about life management? Things like how to treat your neighbors, how to be part of a community, how to manage your money and resources, how to plan and execute? Project based learning and community service are a must. Kids will need to be self starters and do-ers, know how to get people organized and interested – leaders if you will. But not in the grand sense – more in the personal sense. And ultimately – they will need to realize their passions and interests and find what gives meaning to their lives.

You notice something as we go down this list – most kids don’t get this in school. According to John Taylor Gatto the basic requirements of school can be taught in 100hrs. Most of what school does is organize large groups or children, discipline them and keep them in line. In some ways the school is designed to take out the enthusiasm, make the learning boring and repetitive. And all of the above skills are those that parents can teach their kids. And there lies the rub – no matter how great the school you send your kids to – there are things that you can teach and learn alongside them, your attitude towards life and learning, your priorities and how you live your life are greater teachers than anything a school can provide. So – if we’re neglecting to provide these lessons while relying on the perfect school, I’m afraid we’re missing out on the greatest opportunity for our children – ourselves.

About the Author: Simi Rahman is a Pediatric Hospitalist. She’s currently doing her masters in medical education at USC Keck School of Medicine. She’s mom to a 7 yr old and 3 yr old.

To Private or not to Private? That is the Question!

My companion and much better half of over a decade would have me believe that private schooling is exactly what the doctor ordered for our young kids. I, being somewhat twisted in logic, have a hard time coming to terms with that.

I understand, thus believe, that the private versus the public school dilemma is not new and that it is faced by many people. I also feel that it is of such intense interest to the South Asian Diaspora that it makes for much conversation whenever there is a desi meet and greet, typically at a birthday party, baby shower, bridal shower, or even the fashionable GNO (girls’ night out).

The argument for private school goes somewhat like this: better teachers, better curriculum, more motivation, and more inspiration. If infected with the parasite Privatorum skoolosum, linear thinking becomes your forte, and you might get into this pathway: Private school ► Better college prospects ► Better jobs ► Better incomes ► Happier lives. Are these correlations or causations? Do keep in mind that correlation does not prove causation. Should the questioning be more along the lines: Is college for personal growth or for developing a career? Is it a means to an end, the end being a well paid job, which you may or may not like? (Aside: nowadays, for most people, that is immaterial, as long as much money is generated—and the same thought process is then transplanted to one’s children).  Should a good college education be a goal in itself? Can it be a tool to achieve an outcome such as success in life? What is success? How should it be defined?

I don’t know whether compelling data exist that, compared to public schooling, private schooling is indeed more in favor of the child’s trajectory. If we feel, in either situation, that we might be pushing our kids too much, and thus nudging them towards an unhappy adolescence / young adulthood, then it’s best that we reassess and revise our strategy. The same goes for when we don’t push our kids enough and that runs the risk of not helping them realize their full potential. In either situation, the kid should declare his ‘happy medium’. We can make good choices for our kids, whether private or public schooling, if we are well informed: not intolerant of either choice.

What about extra-curricular activities? Let’s take music as an example. The perception is that music lessons are better accomplished in private school settings. What’s more likely is that if your child has the aptitude, then she will learn the instrument equally well, given a good teacher (which might happen in either setting) and motivation to practice. Have you ever felt that you might be making your kid pick up an activity (academic, sport, music, or other extra-curricular related) because of something that you are lacking in yourself? That might be living vicariously through your child. I’m guilty of that: I made my son ‘like’ the piano from an early age because I had always wanted to play it. I think it’s turned out okay because he started enjoying it himself. After four years of playing it he taught me the piano this year and now both of us play it. That is a win-win situation, if I know one. And the icing on the cake: he goes to public school! Overall, I think it is much more important that whatever we choose for our children it should be in their best interests: and that is equally likely to happen at either school type, private or public.

The high quality of public schooling in the United States allows for the foregoing discussion. It is not easy to extrapolate the private vs. public school debate to Pakistan. There is a huge dichotomy between the two, based on my personal experience: I am a product of both public and private sector schooling. Private school education, though elitist at that time, by far served me a lot more. There is an inherent assumption that private schooling in Pakistan has come of age…that is debatable.  However, the chasm between the two can be narrowed by education reform initiatives. See the earlier post of status quos and paradigm shifts for details on how the public-private partnership for education reform in Pakistan might be a move in the right direction.  Imagine a day, in the not so distant future, when public sector schooling will be at par with private schooling, and we will have the Shakespearean conundrum being repeated for there as well.

Once you’ve made that decision (choice) about schooling for your child then simply going on from there needs to be the focus. Avoid second guessing yourself and retrospective regret. If sanity calls for accepting one’s spouse’s instinctive feelings where the offspring’s schooling needs are concerned, so be it…I’m sold to private…it certainly makes for a happier life.

What’s in a Role Model?

Contrary to popular belief in the Pakistani Diaspora, many people in Pakistan, the land of the pure, perform their duties in a stellar manner. Several of them are physicians.

Two of them I know personally. Both happen to work at the Aga Khan University Hospital, one of the strongest medical institutions that Pakistan has to offer. 

Saad Shafqat, currently the head of neurology at AKU, ended up being a mentor to me at a time I could hardly fathom what mentorship was.  A close correspondence that was initiated years’ ago, while I was at AKU in Karachi and he at Harvard in Boston, helped me decide on graduate school, for my own career trajectory. Saad, himself, had treaded the biomedical graduate school path prior to me. In a recent article in the journal Neurology Today, Saad eloquently describes the trials and tribulations of being an academic neurologist in the volatile city of Karachi. Reading his account makes you realize that in certain ways academia is no different between the East and the West. Except that Karachi offers a lot more excitement, vis-à-vis adrenaline surges in the bloodstream. What also becomes evident after reading his article is that in order to survive there with an intact sanity, humor is much needed: I quote from his article, ‘Not many neurologists can say they had to delay rounds because Osama bin Laden was just hunted down near the nation’s capital.’

Junaid Razzaq, who set up the emergency medicine program at AKU, was my tour guide of the updated ER when I visited AKU last November. I distinctly remember Junaid asking me whether I was encountering cases in the ER in Houston where I worked, similar to those that he and his team had to deal with in Karachi: suicide bombers and their victims, gunshot injuries, injured innocent bystanders, and so on…my answer had been a resounding NO! In spite of the hardships of working there, Junaid went on to build up an ambulance service that was recently showcased in an interview in the Tribune.

Whom should be role models for ourselves and our kids, wherever we may be and whatever place we decide to call home? People who do “good things” in an otherwise very stable environment, versus the likes of Saad and Junaid, whom not only perform their duties but also deliver, at times, literally in the line of fire?  

We leave you to ponder the above…

In the meantime, we dedicate this post to all unsung heroes and heroines in Pakistan that go about their amazing work in spite of the crashing and burning that surrounds them. They are the ones making a difference.   

If nothing else, let’s support their work by thinking about them more while we go about our own work in the West. Let’s wish them well…..

“I’m a Lahori (man) in New York”

I recently met a gentleman of Pakistani origin, visiting from New York. An investment banker, whom I met for the first time at a club that a friend of mine was hanging out at, and I happened to be tagging along. The man was the quintessential ivy leaguer from the East Coast, dealing in multi-million dollar mergers and acquisitions. Quite the talker as well. Witty…easily the center of attention, I bet, at black tie affairs; full of himself, his Aitchison college education, his knowing the who’s who in Manhattan and Lahori society, alike.

What about me? Well…, I’m feeling more and more like a fish out of water! First, I felt overwhelming irritation because this man wouldn’t stop talking about himself, money, et al. He did not bother asking the other people what their backgrounds or interests were. He then started cussing the Pakistani state of affairs: how corrupt everyone was out there, anecdotes of high and mighty Pakistanis that he knew personally embezzling in broad daylight. At the end of the evening, I was left with a feeling of sadness that here was a brilliant, smart, hard working guy who had no sense of how much he sounded exactly like the same ‘corrupt’ bureaucrats that he was cussing away. What if I had mentioned that observation to him? Would he have even thought that was a possibility? He really wanted to go for a year’s ‘sabbatical’, which I thought was meant to increase one’s understanding or knowledge. He wanted to go to Pakistan at some point soon, “to make loads of money since that was the land of opportunity”. What kind of twisted logic is that? I couldn’t quite understand why I felt so much angst. I knew that it was not because I was envious of him or his money; like I said, the feeling that was residual after the evening was more of emptiness and inanity.

This morning, then, I started thinking about it again and I wondered whether I was a misfit since I was unable to think about money the same way others did. Maybe you’re right that neither I nor they are misfits. Maybe what’s more likely is that I am trying to find the right fit for myself? Maybe it’s okay to strive for both understanding and uber lucre? Maybe there’s arrogance going both ways?

I might be unsure about several things, but what I do know is that I’ve already initiated the process of searching and seeking within and without, and that has enabled me to get past superficialities. The kind of chance meetings as above, infrequent they may be, are painful all the same. Albeit, there’s much to be learned about myself as well in the process.