Things I thought as a Kid

Things I used to believe when I was a kid:

• I thought we lived inside the world, not on it. I once asked my mother why we couldn’t see the floors above our heads where the people in the north lived. Not until my parents bought me a small globe and explained that we lived and walked on the surface did I understand this concept. 
• an older cousin once convinced me that vhs tapes could record our dreams, you just had to sleep with the tape under your pillow and if you played it in the morning, your dream would be on tv, but only if you woke up really really early. Alas, I was never early enough. 
• another cousin convinced me that pink tissue paper, properly crumpled up and twisted around a few times was an easy way to make cotton candy at home. I don’t know how he got me duped, but I embarrassed my parents a couple of times at other peoples houses, asking if I could borrow that pink tissue paper to eat as cotton candy. 
• I used to think people went to restaurants to read a book and then have food. Like you sit around a table, read the book, and then order. It was extremely important. I often demanded the waiter give me a book to read whenever we went out to eat.  
• i thought there was a special cloud that collected stray balloons that floated away in the sky, they probably gathered into a single colorful cloud and lived happily ever after. 
• Because I was so scared of lightening and thunderstorms, my dad convinced me that the lightening was just a flash of God’s camera, He was taking pictures from the sky. 
• I believed my dolls and toys had feelings, if I didn’t hug them or play with them equally every day, they would feel sad and hurt and lonely. I did have favorites, but I always tried to make up to the not-so-favorite ones. 
• I thought little tiny people lived inside the tv all day. 
• I thought elevators could go anywhere in a short time. When my aunt got married, she stayed at a hotel for a few days with her husband before leaving for New York. I thought we went all the way to New York in the elevator to see her when we visited her in the hotel. 
• I thought London, England, and Britain were three different countries. 
• I thought Iraq and Iran were the same country, only spelled differently by different people.
• I thought Kenya was another name for all of Africa.
• I thought lakes were just stations for rivers and streams to rest in a place, like train stations. 
• I thought MQM and PPP (the political parties) were actually NTM and PTV, the two television stations. 
• I thought cats were people in disguise, always keeping an eye on us. This was probably inspired by my aunt telling me she went to my school every day as a cat, and she used to sit on the wall and see me around, so I wasn’t lonely. 
• I also thought all teachers were supposed to wear heels, and their hair in a bun, and chew gum after lunch, this was all part of their job description. 
• I thought writers sat and wrote the books all day, every single copy of the book by their own hand, and also colored the illustration. 
• I thought things we bought at the store, like cake and pudding mixes, would come out looking like the pictures on their boxes. When my mother made them, they never looked anything like on the box. I was always so disappointed. 
• I thought some eyeglasses could make you see right through the floor. This is probably because I often borrowed (stole) my grandfather’s glasses when he was taking a nap in the afternoon, and they made everything look a little hollowed out. 
• The Morven Gold cigarette ad with the tag line “har dum tawana” (english: Always strong) made me run from the room every time it came on. I believed the guys enjoying the cigarette and grinning into the screen were some kind of monsters like the dracula with their pointed flashy teeth. 
• I got annoyed whenever my uncle sang the song “gorey rang ka zamana” by Vital Signs for me (which he did often)  I thought he was making fun of me.
• The same uncle used to dissuade me from touching his shiny-rimmed glasses by his classic quote “don’t touch the glasses” in a sing-song voice. I used to repeat the rhyme anytime I saw another person wearing glasses and tried to touch them anyways. I thought it was necessary and I was asking permission. 

Now I think about it, I was pretty gullible. 

Why kids don't read

This is for Sadia

Why kids/students don't read:
They have not been introduced to reading properly. Unfortunately kids view reading as a "chore" or "work" and not as a "fun" activity like playing sports or playing with toys. Secondly, the stories kids have access to are also "boring"- I mean the assigned reading in class. The teacher is boring, the environment in the class is boring and sleepy, kids are forced to stand up and read aloud- which is a nightmare. Third, there is more emphasis on spelling, new words, underlining and bringing heavy dictionaries to school and trying to find the meaning of those new words. It is highly discouraging. I almost hated reading at school because of this. Lastly, some kids just aren't readers at all. They don't have any natural inclination towards books and stories, you can't force them to like something they don't.

How to inculcate reading habits in young children:
Parents/Grandparents/home environment are vital for young children to take an interest in reading. There is no replacement for these factors, not even school. Each child is interested in "stories" from a young age, and parents can utilize this interest for an easy transition from "story-telling" to "reading". Parents can limit watching movies to after the kids have finished reading a book. Also, avoiding "preachy" books with a clear-cut "Moral" at the end of the story goes a long way. Having a story "preach" makes the fun activity into something less fun. At school providing too many aids, (drawings/animations/using props) actually spoils the fun in imagining the story as it is read.
Finally, limiting kids with downright stupid "library" rules such as only allowing them to borrow books if they have purchased the library "bag" or brought it with them on the designated day should be avoided. I remember clearly how many times I was told I could not borrow a book from the school library simply because I forgot to bring the stupid library bag with me. I also remember the librarian being a strict lady who would not let me touch certain interesting books because they were for "reference" only (Illustrated history books, books on pyramids and books on rainforests were out of question- I was only allowed to borrow books from a selected shelf).

How can reading be made fun:
Again, some kids are naturally inclined to reading books, others simply don't like it that much. It is nice to encourage those who have the natural bent in them to read more. On the other hand, forcing non-readers will only push them further away.
Having interesting books is also key. If it is boring there is no way a kid will like it. No matter what grown ups think. Urdu books in particular suffer a lot from the boring syndrome. We simply do not have interesting enough stories for the kids. Also, forcing your own culture on kids just to counter the stories from the West is not a good option. I fell in love with "reading" by reading the "Wide Range Readers" series...now they have been conveniently chucked out of school because they apparently converted kids to Western thinking and Christianity. That's just stupid. Don't bring religion and culture in to reading please.

Having separate spaces/cafes for readers to socialise:
No, I don't think these are necessary. Socializing and interaction can't be forced. Having artificial conversations to fit into a "cliché" is not a good thing. I do believe there should be open public spaces where people can meet each other and enjoy a cup of coffee. The book lovers will come when they feel like it.

Your idea:
Yes, I think it's a good initiative.  Not all kids are lucky enough to have a family environment or parents who encourage reading. Some kids do have it in them and they need a push in the right direction, so yes I agree with that. Bringing story telling and "reading" as an activity in the classroom will encourage these kids to pick up a book.

Monetary value:
I don't know how to answer this question, really.

Schools/Parents should pay for activities:
Schools should pay. Parents should not, except if they want to for activities outside school. The costs should not be outrageous. Book fairs at schools are so ridiculously expensive, parents just buy flashy looking books for their brats to show off. That's the unfortunate reality.

Making it sustainable:
This will take time, efforts. It will not take a few years to change the scene, it will take decades to make reading a success with the masses. We have a long way to go. We need to read more so our kids will see it and learn. We need teachers to read more, books to be cheaper, writers to write more, and parents to take an interest in reading with their kids too. It takes the whole community, not just a few scattered activities in schools. We also need more libraries. We need to make reading fashionable, and not an escape for the lonely child to spend time at lunch.

Boring characters- interesting stories

Exercise for failing writers: Describe an ordinary character, which comes across as boring and mundane, in an interesting manner. 

Ans:

Mr. Barry leads an ordinary life. So ordinary in fact, that you would barely notice his existence even if he was your next-door neighbour. He has a typically forgettable face, no charming or disarming features to talk about, and no distinctive quality about his person or personality. Everything from his name to his shoes and umbrellas are extremely ordinary. He hardly has anything interesting to say, and he could care less about what exceptional things were going on around him. He doesn’t really see the need for any improvement in his ordinary house. It has an ordinary couch and sofa set, a very ordinary wooden table, an ordinary rug and an ordinary fireplace that is usually turned off. If you happen to peek into his house, and it is an extremely rare occurrence that you would care enough to do so, you’d see a perfectly ordinary kitchen with little to spare. His bedroom upstairs has a single bed, a dresser and a closet. There is nothing of any distinction or importance that might make you wonder about him in any way.

Each morning, he gets up at 7, takes his bath, dresses in greys or browns, and heads downstairs to have his breakfast. One hard-boiled egg and a single buttered slice of bread accompany his tea. He neatly cleans his place-mat and teacup before leaving for work. His car is a typical sedan you would see on any road, with the colour so faded that it’s essentially colorless. Not transparent, mind you, but just an unidentifiable colour, somewhere on the scale between grey and brown and specks of red. He drives carefully, and seems to enjoy blending in with the rest of the cars on the highway. His office is a plain and simple desk-chair-cubicle, and he has requested not to have any technological annoyance within his reach. If you care enough, you could read the sign overhead on the main street, and see that it is a Law firm. He spends his day reading catalogued archives of old cases and making notes in boring brown ledgers in his neat small handwriting. His lunch is a simple cucumber slice sandwich taken with mineral water. At the end of the day, he drives home listening to classical music on the radio. He turns on the porch light as he comes in, and every alternate day he waters his 8 pots of mundane creeping plants. Today is not the plant-watering day. He picks up the newspaper by his door, and chucks it directly into the recycle bin. He changes into his night clothes, prepares his usual supper of buttered bread, boiled vegetables, and canned meat chunks. From exactly 7pm to 9pm, Mr. Barry watches television. He likes to see some action on the sports channel, then on to the business news drawl, and finally he watches the weather report for the next day. He turns off the television, satisfied that nothing extraordinary about the world and its goings on has reached him in his ordinariness. He goes downstairs to switch off lights, checks the lock on his front door, climbs back upstairs and gets ready for bed. He is fast asleep around 10pm.

Mr. Barry would be quite unhappy to be noticed by you. He would also feel uncomfortable if you were found peeking into his living room, or trying to focus your binoculars into his bedroom windows. He prefers to be left alone while shopping for his usual groceries, and if any of you people come up to him to say hello, he’d rather avoid looking into your eyes and responding. He values personal privacy above all other things, and he is grateful that his is not invaded often.

People like Mr. Barry give authors a hard time trying to make their lives sound interesting. You cannot imagine him to be a wizard or a stranded alien from another planet (although that seems to be the case).  Perhaps you think he’s solving some important case at his workplace. No, nothing like that. Mr. Barry has made it a point to work only in tax or insurance related cases. If anything remotely unusual comes his way, he likes to pick up the file and leave it at his colleagues’ desk to work on. People in his office are grateful for having him. They can place all mundane and boring tasks on his desk, and he’s more than happy to work on them. The neighbours too would be grateful for having him live amongst them, if they ever noticed him, because he always takes out trash on time, waters his plants, shovels his driveway, does not have annoying kids screaming down the street, nor does he have a gossiping wife who is always hosting barbeques. The cashier at the grocery store is especially happy to have him as her customer. He usually buys the same stuff and gives exact change. He doesn’t bother taking the receipts, so she simply pulls it out and throws it in the bin under her counter. The mailman always sighs with relief when he comes across Mr. Barry’s postbox. There is never any post, so his task is easy.

Mr. Barry probably has never bothered anyone in his entire life, and I suppose one day he’d grow old and sick, and would die quietly. Although, I wonder if people will be bothered enough to come to his funeral when that happens. Sometimes, I often wonder if he is happy the way he is. When I peek into his living room during his TV watching time, I see him smile at random infomercials on the shopping tv, or nod at the official looking guy telling us about bad weather tomorrow. At times like these, I feel Mr. Barry has surrounded himself with the comfort and happiness that is enough for him. So, you see... if you peek inside, you might get bored. But if you ever get caught by Mr. Barry when you’re prowling around his mundane plants and pots under his porch light, well... that maybe an interesting story. 

The big Mars candy bar

 When I was a little girl, my parents used to give me an allowance of 10 rupees. It was actually fixed per day, but every afternoon when I came back from school, I would put that unused 10 rupee note carefully on my desk, in case I needed to spend it the next day. We were far from poor, but my parents taught me early on the importance and value of having money. 10 rupees in those times was quite a lot (according to me). I wasn't stingy, but I was happy with whatever lunch I got from home, and only once a week I would indulge in getting something (Candy or a drink) from the school canteen. So, basically, 10 rupees were enough to last a week. My story goes like this:

I have a very clear memory of walking one evening to a nearby general store with my mother. After she had bought all the items on her list, she asked me if I wanted anything. My head could reach barely above the counter, but I scanned the candy and chocolate jars carefully. I settled on a big Mars bar, the biggest I had seen yet. There was another child right next to me on the counter, looking greedily at where my finger was pointing. This child was a little beggar girl, probably the daughter of a local maidservant or maasi; she was wearing old clothes, and a rag as a shawl on her head. She was older than me and a bit taller. I remember her yellow bleached hair peeking from beneath the rag shawl, and her greedy look as she too stared at the big Mars candy bar.

My mother asked the price casually. Rs 20 was the answer. I turned suddenly towards her and I said I didn't want it. I chose a smaller candy bar for Rs 10 that I used to buy often. “I want this one, Ammi”. Rs. 20 was too much to spend on a candy bar, I thought in my childish brain. ‘Ammi gets so many other important things for the kitchen in that amount. I could buy a book in that much money, why just a big candy bar?’ I thought.

 My mother asked me if I was sure, and she got me the smaller candy. As we picked up our shopping bags and turned to leave the counter, the little beggar child demanded that big Mars bar from the counter person. She quickly took out two 10 rupee notes from somewhere in her shawl, and grabbed the big bar. She gave me a look of pure superiority as she walked out of the store ahead of us.

This incident is marked vividly in my memory. It has changed the way I view the lifestyle of our ‘poor’.

What makes you a Liberal?

Most people I know, are generally of the idea that believing in liberalism is just an excuse for being immoral. If somebody comes across as liberal-leaning, he/she is immediately cast into a wine-drinking /gambling/promiscuous stereotype. I have been thinking long and hard on this topic, and I have come to the conclusion that there is a reason why people believe in this stereotype. And the reason is the behaviour of some of the so-called ‘liberals’ themselves (don’t scoff me, there are plenty of those around).

People, and especially my generation, are most likely confused about what being a liberal means. Again, I come to the words and meaning debate: a word can have several different meanings and images attached to it, but they are not necessarily accurate. So here are a few thought-provoking questions to ask yourself:

Does voting for a Liberal government make you a liberal?

Does wearing a certain type of clothing make you a liberal?

Does studying in certain schools make you one?

Does scoffing the ‘conservative’-types make you one?

Does glorifying certain personalities make you a liberal?

Does your indifference to religion make you a liberal?

Or is it simply about allowing yourself a justification for doing things that go against your cultural norms and traditions? (i.e. alcohol consumption, going to bars/clubbing, you get my drift...)

Simply googling the term ‘liberalism’ brings me to its core idea: the belief in importance of equal rights and freedom/liberty for every human being. This... Is...It.

A person who believes in equal rights for all humans on this planet, and believes in every person’s right to freedom, is a liberal. Frankly, without going into a philosophical debate, and adding tons of layered meaning to this rather simple way of thinking... anybody can be a liberal. A person can dress any way they like, and still hold the highest importance to these two fundamental aspects of liberalism. Similarly, nobody can judge another person based on outward appearance, about how conservative or liberal they might be. And if you are a true liberal at heart, you would stop yourself right before you make that judgement.

So does it sound like such a bad thing now? I don’t think so.

“Live and Let Live” and come to the liberal side! 

Past Tense

(14th August Special)

Half-Mast

All the glory, all the pride, all the songs, belong to the past. All the achievements we hear about, are talked of in the past tense. And in my heart I question them, my grandparents and parents both. What is there to be happy about in this country?

And I'm told:

- we had people who worked in makeshift canvas tents and used cardboard boxes as office furniture. They didn't ask for salaries, because they knew this new country could not afford it.
- we had a Prime Minister who refused expensive clothes, because the common Pakistani could not afford them. We shot that Prime Minister dead, and now we forgot him. We erased him from our school books. Sometimes we label him as a traitor.
- there was a time when little children used to walk to and from school without any fear. These same children grew up, frightened to death of letting their own children step outside. Why?
- we had a quaint Tram service in Karachi. We burned the trams, ripped the rail-track off the road, and sold it as scrap metal.
- we had double decker buses, like those you see in London. We burned them, and left them as trash.
- we had an education system, and it was not surprising to find the best doctors, teachers, engineers and scientists coming from Government schools. Now we mock them as "neela" "peela" school or Urdu medium.
- we had one of the best hockey teams in the world. A team that got us Gold at the Olympics... true heroes. We replaced them because they were not the 'right' ethnicity. Hence, we lost our pride.
- We had a physicist who is celebrated the world over, a Nobel Laureate, but we shunned him. We conveniently forgot him. Instead we chose to celebrate ignorance. Knowledge and Wisdom have no place in our hearts and minds.
- We had a free, open environment, where foreigners liked to visit.... we drove them away by our wild calls for extremism.
- On Sundays, every church in Karachi used to be a busy place, with bells clanging and people greeting each other warmly. My parents remember going right up to the windows, and looking in. Now we have walls around churches that are sky-high, and we can not go inside without feeling like strangers.
- A library ship called Logos used to dock every year at Karachi Harbour... kids would rush upon the decks, and choose books from the world over. The sailors used to enjoy evening strolls at Keamari, walking around town, having a drink at the bar and trying to talk to the native children. This ship does not dock anymore, because we threatened our Christian volunteers, who used to help in setting the library up. We lost Logos.
- There was a time when bus stops had a "time keeper", a guy who would tell you when the next bus would go by. And he was rarely wrong.
- There was a time when people respected "Ladies" who were out about on their business, dragging children through shops, and waving down a rickshaw. Now the ladies are scared to step out. Even if they do, we like to sit around and giggle as they go by, or we hit them with pebbles to ensure they realize they are second class citizens.
- There was a time Karachiites used to talk of going to Cox's Bazar, or going to Chittagong for a holiday. Children had the option to learn Persian or Bengali at school. But we oppressed our other half, until they wanted nothing more to do with us. Then we lied about it in our history books. And still do.
- There was a time when the streets of this city were washed and scented every morning, and the Clock Tower used to be a great help to the pedestrian on the street. The clock Tower is broken, and the streets are choked with traffic.
- There was a time when this city had potential to become a great city, instead we threw out proper town planning, we let overpopulation and rural migration take hold of it, and sat back enjoying the disaster.
- There was a time when we had some respect for our History, and protected our heritage with fierce love. Now we look down upon it, and feel it's better if the extremists blow up all the statues. Or we'll sell those statues to other countries in black anyway.

This was a past that my grandparents lived, my parents saw, and I can only hear about and imagine.

Once, I remember I was going somewhere by train. In the middle of the deserted landscape of Upper Sindh, our train stopped for 5 minutes. It was around late afternoon. I saw a child from the nearby village, walking beside the train, dragging a plastic bottle filled with dirty water. She was about 6, her tattered clothes hardly covering her little form. She gazed in such wonder at us, at our train. Such wonder in those eyes. Then our train moved and the child stood there transfixed. When people talk of Independence, of this Beloved Country... I often wonder, did that child even know what Independence is? does she recognize the flag of this country? Does she know our Glorious History? Our past? And most of all, does it matter to her? Does it matter that she is free? Is she?

Water-powered fantasy

So this guy's "invented" a car that runs on water. It's all over the news. It's all over the blog posts. It's got Hammered Pir polishing his moustache on air. And it's proving once again what a polarized and insane people live in this land of the pure.

This guy, who is not even a proper engineer but is a GENEEYUS like the classic drop-out Billy Gates, claims that his "water kit" uses the process of electrolysis to provide Hydrogen fuel for the car. Never mind the amount of energy required for the process of electrolysis. Because obviously the science textbooks have been lying all this time!

He also claims that all "theories" comes after the practical. Always. There is no merit in the scientific method, according to this National Hero, as he smiles into his How-to papers downloaded from the net (incidently from a website called Troll Physics).

Next, he claims his "theory" has disproved the Second Law of Thermodynamics. A law that states: energy can neither be created nor be destroyed, in other words "input is equal to output". What absolute rubbish that is, because here's how two normal magnets can run a car easily! (refer to picture below, which is an actual snapshot from the PhD thesis of Sir Trolloloby of University of Nonsensical Technologies). 

"If Sir Trolloloby can do it, so can I" says the guy intelligently, waggling his moustache on tv.  

Specially for this "inventor" the water molecule releases a hidden energy, that the otherwise shy H2O is unable to provide to other scientists worldwide. H20 could not be reached for comment, but it is assumed that there is a secret collaboration  between the two that the Inventor keeps nodding about. 

A couple of stupid, obviously jealous scientific people objected to these claims, insanely basing their ideas on the normal (but now obsolete) science. But just as passionately, our sane gentry armed with the truth, replied to quell such scientific idiots. Here are some illuminating and intelligent comments to shut those scientists up:

(click on picture to read properly)

here is another gem from another sane citizen who would like to put all these scientists in jail for their inherent dishonesty in belittling an engineer:

(click on picture to read properly)

please ignore the latter comment by Saein, he's an american-paid indian agent.

Here's another paid agent who is trying to malign the national hero, with his idiotic comment:

(click on picture to read properly)

Fear not, sane citizens!!! Such scientific idiots are finally crawling into their pits and crying bitterly over their "research". Also, I'd like to say that we should definitely appreciate such awesome GENEEYUS like this inventor, let's hope he becomes another drop-out like Stevy Jobs and Billy Gates in future. Big shout out to the SHAKSPEARE illiterate people out there!!!