I've had one of those weird nights, which could never have happened if not for certain things falling into place. A friend of Kurt's invited the AIESEC interns here in Karachi and myself to the cultural night of the 2008 Young Leaders Conference, and we had an absolute blast.
The energy and passion in these young people was incredible, and I've stepped out of it feeling reinvigorated and motivated even more to make the most of my term here as President of AIESEC Pakistan.
In 8 hours I'll be on a plane back to Karachi, to take up my role as national president of AIESEC in Pakistan for 2008/2009. I've been saying goodbyes to my friends and family for 4 weeks now, and after countless delays, I'm finally able to leave.
While I've been itching to leave for months, what has made it so hard is that I simply don't know when I'll be back. It could be as little as a few months, a year, or …?
I'm going to miss this beautiful city I have called home all my life:
More than that, I'm going to miss my family and friends. I will keep in touch, but nothing compares to sitting with someone and just being able to talk - not email, not IM, not Skype and not Facebook.
Know that I am grateful to those that have shaped my life, in both foundation-rocking and subtle ways, and every shade in between. All I can say is "I'll see you, some day", hoping, clinging to the faith that our paths will cross again.
I had the pleasure of seeing the World Press Photo 2008 exhibition in Sydney this afternoon. Every year I find myself transfixed by these photos, appreciating them more as I learn about photography through my own activities.
I was astounded at how many people were at the exhibition, but even more surprised by people's reactions and behaviour to the photos. I can only describe it as being 'detached'.
There were photos that held me, enthralled, that moved me, that sent shivers up my spine.
Yet, when I sat down to look around, people would look at these photos, read the accompanying comments and then move on, with no sign of impact. Are the events these photos depict, in Afghanistan, Iraq, Pakistan, Ukraine, Kenya, Nigeria… are they all so far away from the reality here? Are people that detached that these photos aren't able to move them? It's a feeling I haven't quite been able to shake…
The other night, after dinner with a friend in Newtown, I had the pleasure of being re-acquainted with the wonder that is Gould's books in Newtown.
There is something about this store, the old books, the musty smell. Or perhaps the row upon row upon wall upon wall upon stack upon stack of books that are littered everywhere. Whatever it is, it appeals to my inner bookworm.
After a good half hour of wandering around and browsing, I walked out armed with 4 books; books that I most likely won't read in the next month, and will have to cart back to Pakistan, but pleased with my purchases nevertheless!
Something peculiar happened last night on my way back from the AIESEC office. Our rickshaw-wallah (driver) pulled over (in peak hour traffic in one of the busier areas of Karachi) to help push another's rickshaw… using his foot. And he proceeded to do so for another few kilometres.
It's something so small, but it really made my day.
It's a sunny Sunday afternoon. I'm sitting on the MC Mansion rooftop, having had halwa puri for breakfast, read the newspaper and now enjoying a great book. Around me I can hear the sound incessant honking of cars and trucks, the azaan (call to prayer) for Asr and the sound of boys cheering in their game of street cricket.
It's hard to believe that two weeks ago, Karachi was ablaze - cars and buildings burning, people on the streets, danger in the air.
For the past week, I've been struggling to put into words the thoughts that have been flying around my head, thoughts that have popped up reading reports on the deteriorating situation, the riots, seeing this country described as a "failed state" and a "pre-9/11 Afghanistan". All the while, my head is screaming from the negativity I see. I have tried to write how the Pakistan seen in the media is not accurate, to explain the riots and the reactions to the assassination, but the words just don't come out right.
So I'm going to show the other side of Pakistan, the Pakistan I am growing to love, through the lens of my camera.
Badshahi Masjid, Lahore:
Bhai drinking milk - Old City, Lahore:
Chai-wallah - Regal Chowk, Lahore:
A relucant smile:
Making a wish - Old City, Lahore:
This is Pakistan, not the one you see in the news.
Taken near Nur Jahan's tomb, Lahore.
… when you can play around the corner at Nur Jahan's tomb?
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