Note to my Children

Me, cradling you so gingerly, You, wriggling in my arms, Breathing your first breath, Hold on tight, my dear, and think of me, Never ever let go, of how it used to be   You, smiling your first smile, Staring at me lovingly, With brown sparkling eyes, Hold on tight, my dear, and think of me, Never ever let go, of how it used to be   You, taking your first steps, Wobbling to and fro, Holding on to my finger, so very very tight, Hold on tight, my dear, and think of me, Never ever let go, of how it used to be   Me, pushing on the swing, You, yelling gleefully, You could touch the sky, from the rope on the tree, Hold on tight, my dear, and think of me, Never ever let go, of how it used to be   You, smelling your first rose, I plucked from the bush, Carefully, thorns removed, Hold on tight, my dear, and think of me, Never ever let go, of how it used to be   You, shedding your first tears, From a scrapped knee? Or just feelings hurt? Hold on tight, my dear, and think of me, Never ever let go, of how it used to be   You, singing your first notes, So pretty, on the stage, smiling through joyful tears, Hold on tight, my dear, and think of me, Never ever let go, of how it used to be   You, dancing your first dance, Your little fingers, stretched out, Beckoning me, ‘Come on!’ Hold on tight, my dear, and think of me, Never ever let go, of how it used to be   You, driving the first time, Starting, stopping, and then again, Me sitting next to you, clutching my seat, Hold on tight, my dear, and think of me, Never ever let go, of how it used to be   You, standing across from me, Arguing your point of view, I frowned, but so proud inside, Hold on tight, my dear, and think of me, Never ever let go, of how it used to be   Us, staying up so late, Screaming at horror shows, Now replaced with essays from school, Hold on tight, my dear, and think of me, Never ever let go, of how it used to be   College, and then your first job, You’re starting on your own, Now miles away from me, Hold on tight, my dear, and think of me, Never ever let go, of how it used...

A Few Days in Dubai

The mindset of the Dubai government and resources available to them start to manifest themselves as soon as you get off the plane and enter the Dubai International Terminal.  It sparkles like a diamond, from the floor to the glass walls to the ceiling. The grand immigration hall is precisely that, grand.  Three story ceilings, meticulously cleaned surfaces, immigration officers in their spotless white flowing robes.  Interesting tidbit – Retina scanners are mounted behind the immigration officers, but woe be to those with small eyes, as the scanners will keep trying till an accurate scan is obtained, however long that may take.  On US passports, a 30 day visa is granted upon arrival. Every public service is targeted to make the traveler comfortable.  The taxi drivers are polite, with clean nice taxis.  The Dubai government has made the desert green, which could be impressive, except that this is the same outfit that created the humongous Palm Island, as well as the ‘world’ islands by dredging up the ocean.  The Palm Island is – no mystery here – in the shape of a palm tree, with its trunk connected to the rest of Dubai.  The trunk is wide enough for two multi-lane highways, adorned by houses and mansions on the outside edges, close to the ocean.  Residences also dot the palm fronds.  The World Islands are replicas of all the continents.   The things you can do when money is truly no object!  You can fulfill your fantasy of owning North America or Africa here, if they are still available. What can you do in Dubai?  Short answer.  Anything you want, as long as you have the money.  Dubai is part of the UAE, but it is a thriving center of commerce and finance, where foreigners are 70 percent of the population.  You can find Americans, Europeans, Chinese, Japanese – people from all parts of the world, but the largest portion hails from India and Pakistan.  They are human fodder in the engine of growth and expansion that is Dubai. You like to shop?  Welcome to paradise!  Whether it is the relatively subdued Wafi Mall, the long established Mall of the Emirates, or the over-the-top, opulent, extravagant Dubai Mall, you will be able to find anything and everything, from pretty much any famous store from around the globe.  If you have just enough time to visit one of them, the clear choice is the Dubai Mall, but it is very likely you will simply not have enough time to visit all...

A Few Days in Karachi

After a 16 hour flight from San Diego to Dubai, a six hour layover in Dubai, and a close to two hours flight, we landed at the Jinnah International Airport at Karachi.  A little after 4 am, the airport was very much alive, with four flights having landed within a couple of hours of each other.  The immigration lines were very long, but if you are lucky enough to know someone who knows the right people, you can be escorted through the queues, as if breaking straight through the walls of a human maze.  It can be a little awkward and embarrassing, but such are the privileges available in some parts of the world. The air outside was cool and fresh, with almost no traffic on the roads.  Drivers in Pakistan, like in most developing countries, rarely acknowledge the lane dividers, be it on a highway or a smaller street.  But in those early morning hours, the driver was truly the king of the road, weaving around the sporadic obstacles that materialized in the form of slow moving cars, or even slower moving two-wheeled buggies pulled by donkeys. Despite consistent rumors over the years (or is it the conventional wisdom of Karachi’ites?) about Karachi’s breakup into smaller pieces, Karachi is still a vibrant, thriving city of somewhere between 18 to 20 million, with all the headaches that go along any metropolis that continue to grow in a more unplanned than planned way.  Bad traffic, frequent electrical outages, and an infrastructure that seems to have been thought out, but whose execution and maintenance is at the mercy of the current political party is in control.  One could live with all this – after all over 20 million people do, but the lack of safety – frequent minor highway robberies of cell phones, cash and jewelry is what makes someone who is more familiar with the predictability of a western society think twice about visiting Karachi.  But sometimes there are commitments to be kept that trump security concerns, such as the wedding of a niece. When you go to Karachi, you go for the food, and for the shopping.  In addition to the already tantalizing and taste bud enhancing Pakistani cuisine, the localized versions of American (McDonalds, KFC, steaks), Mexican and Chinese fares are all worth tasting.  Everything is a little bit spicier, a little bit tastier and for Western tourists, dirt cheap, even in fancy restaurants.  Places like BBQ Tonite, Habib’s, Red Apple, and Kolachi not only give you a...

A Few Days in Beijing

At the Beijing airport, a grand rotating display announced 2014 as the year of the Horse in the Chinese calendar.  The New Year celebrations lasted for the full first week of February, and for some Chinese citizens, the subsequent week as well.  The New Year also brought the first snow of the season, and a cold front, which was nowhere near as severe as the bitter cold in the Eastern parts of the United States. Fireworks, apparently not very well regulated, went off randomly in front of the hotel I was staying at.  A couple of enterprising citizens were having their own celebration, which took late-night strollers by surprise.  The short-lived display illuminated the night sky.  The glass windows of the surrounding tall buildings brilliantly reflected the twinkling, falling stardust.  It was rather surreal. Eating out in Beijing is always an adventure.  This time, at the recommendation of some local experts, I went to Li Qun (pronounced Li Chun), reputed to be the place you’ll find the best Peking Duck in Beijing.  I was told it is a small hole in the wall restaurant where you don’t make reservations – you call in and order the number of ducks you want to consume.  If they have enough, they’ll tell you to come in that day.  I did not necessarily believe it, but my friend still called and ordered a duck.  The earlier you go, the better the chances of not having to wait for a long time.  While I did not witness this, it is not uncommon for hungry duck connoisseurs to be patiently waiting outside in a long winding queue.  Neither is it unusual for the sated customers to be ushered out of the small four-bedroom house that has been converted into the dining area, as soon as they have devoured their meal.  As I crossed the road, a series of ducks, hand-drawn with charcoal on the brick wall of the adjoining houses guided me towards Li Qun, with an arrow under the final duck pointing to the modest entrance, through which many world leaders and celebrities have entered to sample the moist duck meat covered by a layer of crispy skin. I am told that the family who owns Li Qun raises its own ducks.  The evidence, about thirty of them, were hanging, skinned and ready to be roasted in the wood-fired ovens, in an old cooler in the middle of the courtyard.  It only took a few minutes to ignore the skinned ducks hanging across from my...

Exploiting Children to the Extreme – Killing Them

Two events over the last week yet again showed the harsh and cruel place the world has become for children.  Before I go any further, I must admit that I am focused on a certain part of the world, and am driven by my strong convictions of (i) protecting children, and (ii) that people use religion for amoral purposes, thereby corrupting it and taking away all the inherent benefits that any religion brings to humanity.  In this case, it is the continuing thread of the distortion of Islam.  I must also admit that I am not a scholar of Islam by any stretch of the imagination. Spozhmai aged 10, in Afghanistan. http://edition.cnn.com/2014/01/07/opinion/bloom-horgan-afghanistan-girl/index.html?hpt=hp_c1 The first incident is about a 10 year old Afghan girl, named Spozhmai.  According to the news reports, her own brother, suspected to be a local Taliban commander, is the one who forced her to attempt suicide bombing.  The plan was for her to carry a suicide vest and an extra set of clothes, swim across a river at night, change clothes, and spend the night in an abandoned house.  In the morning, when police officers would arrive at the local station to start work, she was to wear the vest, enter the station and detonate the bomb, killing herself and as many of the police officers as she could. Now, the age difference between Spozhmai and her brother Zahir is not highly unusual.  But the fact that this so-called ‘leader’ was ready to kill his sister, who was literally like his daughter only incites rage within me.  Abhorrent as that is, what makes it even worse for me is that he did it in the name of religion.  What kind of a human being and man is he?  I have daughters, and I, much as any father, would die before allowing any harm to them.  What goes on in the minds of these Taliban? The fortunate turn of events was that when Spozhmai went into the river, the water was too cold, and caused her to scream.  The same police officers she was meant to destroy the next day heard her and fished her out of the river.  And what did the manly, courageous Taliban commander do upon seeing the police?  Why, he tucked his tail between his legs and ran in the other direction, of course. After Spozhmai told the whole story to the police, and it got around on social media, the president of Afghanistan, Hamid Karzai got involved, and according to reports, ordered...