You only caught a glimpse of the girl as she walked down the corridor. She had short hair. You reverted the news back to your friends.

“A girl has moved into the room next door.”

“What does she look like?” “She has short hair.” “That’s a good start.”

“The girl with the short hair, her boyfriend’s beating her up.” “No way.” “He’s strangling her too.” “That’s terrible.” “I know. Someone should call the police.” “Even if the police see a couple having a physical dispute they can’t intervene unless the woman asks them to.” “He’s strangling her. Maybe someone should knock on the door.” “What if you knock on the door and the guy punches you in the face?” “Well, then the police…” “And then when the police come and ask what happened, what if the girl is beaten up and she says you did it?” “Well...” “The girl says you were trying to rape her. And the boyfriend came just in time to punch your stupid face.” “I’ll tell them...” “They’ll believe the girl. The girl will protect her boyfriend.”

“This isn’t Hollywood.”

“Stop trying to be a hero.”

“Hello? Yes, you know the people next door? Well, they’ve been fighting for a really long time.” “Okay.” “They’re screaming pretty loud. I think he’s strangling her. And they’ve broken the router.” “Tomorrow I will move the router in your room.” “Ah. Excellent. And the guy beating his girlfriend?” “She is his wife.”

Carrying a Facebook page over two million ‘likes’ strong, it would be safe to say that young Pakistani-Canadian comedian Zaid Ali T has moulded himself into an internet sensation. Each update from the young entertainer earns countless shares, likes and comments within seconds of hitting the internet. His audience is primarily South Asians, though his followers originate from many countries. Zaid’s weapons are his disarming smile and jokes that hilariously channel our exasperation with Asian cultural norms. When I first discovered Zaid, I spent hours combing through his Facebook page, chortling at every one of his shenanigans. His strict father, who gave him a hiding when he joked about selling drugs, reminded me of my own. In no time I was sharing Zaid’s work on social media, as well as when friends and family were visiting. My own parents could barely contain their laughter and became instant fans. Perhaps what was most impressive about Zaid was how he was churning out amazing videos every other day, as if he had a factory of wit. It was especially impressive considering that even the best comedians take ages to come up with winning material, while daily humourists such as Jay Leno and Conan O’Brien only produce a few good jokes a day and that too with the help of talented hardworking writers. Writing comedy is tedious work, yet it seemed to be coming more naturally to Zaid. However, when I learned the truth about Zaid, it broke my heart. When I shared the truth with others, they too were heartbroken. Before discovering the truth, perhaps the only thing that had bothered me about Zaid was how he wore his religion on his sleeve, and constantly boasted about his good deeds. For example, he recently shared news of turning down a lucrative acting role in Hollywood because a kissing scene hurt his religious sentiments. In my experience, people who try so hard to convince the world that they are pious are normally hiding deep ugliness inside. It saddens me to say that Zaid’s ugliness is that he is a thief, a thief who steals others’ hard work and ideas, and profits off of them. I’ve spoken to some of the comedians whose content was shamelessly ripped off by Zaid, and they shared their frustration and grief with me. It began with a few videos, but the more entertainers I spoke to, the more I realised that Zaid had stolen a significant portion of his life’s content. It first came to my attention when I noticed a comment under one of Zaid’s videos pointing out the plagiarism. The similarities between video Zaid’s skit and the skit he had copied from were startling. Shamelessly, he copies word to word. Here is a video of Zaid’s satire of South Asian brides: [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Photo: Screenshot[/caption] Compare that to an earlier released video from comedian Ali: [fbvideo link="https://www.facebook.com/video.php?v=711309765631381&set=vb.191973834231646&type=3&theater"][/fbvideo] This video is a repost - the original video predates Zaid Ali T’s video. In Zaid’s version, he gives no credit to the original creator of the skit. Here is another video where Zaid pokes fun at how ‘white people’ take photos as compared to Pukhtuns. The plagiarism here is shocking. Zaid’s version: [embed width="620"]http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x2cm7cw_taking-photos-white-people-vs-pathans-by-zaidalit_fun[/embed] The original version posted from a year back by YouTube user gucciaka2pac can be accessed here. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Photo: Screenshot[/caption] Alarmed, I posted several comments on Zaid’s videos regarding this, but they mysteriously disappeared. Similarly, others who questioned Zaid’s ethics also saw their comments wiped away. I messaged Zaid several times, but my queries were ignored. Here, I contacted a comedian, who has worked extremely hard to follow his dreams. He worked difficult odd jobs in Pakistan, until his YouTube videos went viral, eventually earning him a successful comedy gig in Dubai. From this comedian, who is in touch with various entertainers, I shockingly learnt that Zaid has been stealing content from various sources whose complaints were met by deaf ears. A number of sources informed me that the comedians who go by the name of Maansals on Facebook were Zaid’s favourite hunting ground for ideas. Upon contacting Maansals, I was told that he had unapologetically stolen from many of their videos. A little research showed that some of Zaid’s greatest hits had been ‘inspired’ by Maansals. Here is Zaid’s joke about his friend receiving a call from his dad, while the two are enjoying music: [embed width="620"]http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x2dq7qy_when-your-friends-dad-calls-zaid-ali-videos_fun[/embed] It was lifted from this Maansal’s video that had appeared a year earlier: [fbvideo link="https://www.facebook.com/video.php?v=728346843849649"][/fbvideo] What’s more, Zaid’s videos about people you find in Ramazan, how people behave during exams, are also remarkably similar to Maansals’ content. Another victim of Zaid is Pakistani comedy group Bekaar Vines, whose videos have been steadily going viral. When I contacted Mubeenul Haq on Facebook, who is instantly recognisable in Bekaar Vines for his magnificent moustache, Mubeen was amused,

“Ha ha! He (Zaid) is (the) biggest cheater.”

A year before a mosque in Kanpur (pre-partition India) was razed by our British overlords to pave way for a road, and while a Jinnah-less Muslim League was yet to overhaul its objectives – which until then asserted that ‘the party shall work towards manifesting a sense of loyalty to Britain’ – to work towards creation of a Muslim majority state (Pakistan was still a very distant idea), Austria passed a remarkably inclusive law, setting an example for the rest of the European countries. In 1912, Habsburg Emperor Franz Joseph passed an act guaranteeing its small minority of Muslims royal patronage by making Islam the state religion. Not Sunni Islam, Not Shia Islam, but Islam. More than a century later, the country was compelled into passing an amendment to the above law, thereby making any foreign funding to the madrassas and imams in the country illegal. Sebastian Kurz, the integration minister of Austria, stated that the step was taken to “prevent certain Muslim countries from using financial means to exert political influence”, and to “give Islam the chance to develop freely within the society in line with the common European values”. Pakistan is no alien to the phenomenon Kurz yearns to save Austria from. Had the country’s religion been allowed to develop according to the sub-continental leanings, the Sufism-inspired Islam was as inclusive in its outlook and as inclined towards peace and humanity as Buddhism. Love was the only principle it sought to defend – love and acceptance. It was in this spirit of Sufi Islam that Allama Iqbal had written,

“Banda-e-ishq az khuda geerad tareeq; Me-shavad ber kafir o momin shafeeq; Kufr o deen ra geer dar pehnae dil; Dil agar bi-gurezad az dil, wae dil” (The person of love seeks his path from God, (And thus) becomes kind towards both an infidel and a believer. Give Islam and the non-Islamic religions space in your heart (simultaneously), (For) pitiable is the heart that evades another heart.)

“There is no sanctity of the [Pakistani] Constitution for us.”

“Since there is the principle of jihad in our Islam, so we think that there should be real weapons in homes”.

His mother was his fulcrum. The centre point upon which his whole life balanced, precariously. His mother had never had an easy day in her life. Ravaged by poverty from a young age, she was bestowed in marriage to a man who was 20 years her senior.  Her main purpose in life was to be an avenue for procreation and to remain devoutly obedient to her husband; that was the way life was lived in these regions. If she had no choice in who she married, she could mould her children in any manner she pleased. Instead of being harsh on them, she chose to love them endlessly and tirelessly. Love was something which all her children – be it girl or boy – thrived in. He grew up watching her carry water from the streams, coming home to light a fire with her bare hands, grind grain to make wheat to make perfectly round chapattis, cook what little food was available and make sure all her children were fed even if she went hungry. On top of all this, she raised her children making sure they never looked dirty or dishevelled. He loved the way she could never stay still and yet she was omnipresent. The way she stroked his hair as he drifted off to sleep and sung a soothing lullaby to allay his fears. It wasn’t until his father died that her true strength was realised. She had to become the breadwinner and maintain the role of a mother. Yet she did it without wallowing in grief or complaining to God about her fate. She did it with quiet, complicit acceptance, tilling the land, selling what grew on the land and raising her children with a smile on her face as her calloused hands burned under her papery skin. When he became old enough to work, he left school and helped lighten the burden even though she insisted he study. But he wanted more. He wanted to remove her pain and it was this thirst for monetary gain that brought him to this day. He stood at the edge of the building his own hands had built and prepared himself for the jump. The dusty, arid wind howled around him with such ferocity, as if prompting him to take a step back. There was no going back. It was now or never. He paced side to side, looked down at the hustle bustle of Dubai’s commercial life and screamed out loud,

“Do it now!” with spittle and tears falling down his face.

“What home? Why do you want to go back to that country when you have everything here?” laughed his master.

“Ammi, I’m coming back to you,” he thought to himself as he spun round and round, falling downwards swiftly.  “Ammi, Ammi, Ammi,” he said chanting.

“Wake up! Wake up! There’s bad news!” shouted his comrade as he was awoken from his slumber.

“They are all dead! All dead! Ya Allah! They are all dead.  It was early morning and the devil in the sky came and killed them all. Some informant wrongly told them that there were terrorists in that house.”

I have always been aware of the injustices British Muslims face, but I have sometimes doubted the narrative of the “Muslim victim”. Why is it such a big deal if you are singled-out every now and then because of your appearance? If you have nothing to hide, there should be no problem – just cooperate, surely? Security officers would never apply a blanket stop and search; they only stop potential criminals with good reason, right? Wrong. Just over a month ago, I was about to arrive at border control at London Heathrow, having flown in from Dubai. Suddenly, I was pulled aside and told to hand over my passport. I smiled at the officer as she scrutinised what I was wearing from my headscarf to my sandals. She did not smile back. I gave her my passport, naïvely expecting a normal conversation about what I had been up to during my travels. Instead I was greeted with a look that I can only describe as being full of contempt. She began by asking general questions such as,

“Why are you alone?”

“Young Muslim girl,” and therefore a potential “jihadi bride.”

“You were stopped because you are a young Jewish girl, so we could not take any risks?”

With the third edition of HUM Awards over and done with, a good number of Pakistani celebrities flew out to Dubai to attend the biggest entertainment award show of Pakistan. Here are six things that Pakistani celebrities do when they visit Dubai: 1. They try living the high life [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="594"] Mehwish Hayat, Ahsan Khan, Saba Qamar. Photo: Saba Chaudry[/caption] 2. They see Burj al Arab for the first time [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="594"] Ahmed Butt, Anoushey Ashraf. Photo: Saba Chaudry[/caption] 3. They bring the entire neighbourhood along [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="594"] Cast of Jalaibee with Tapu Javeri. Photo: Saba Chaudry[/caption] 4. They post pictures of their business class flight [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="594"] Sabeeka Imam. Photo: Saba Chaudry[/caption] 5. They take a customary selfie with Burj Khalifa [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="594"] Anoushey Ashraf. Photo: Saba Choudry[/caption] 6. They turn it into a honeymoon [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="594"] Syra Shehroz, Shehroze Subzwari. Photo: Saba Chaudry[/caption] This post originally appeared here.

When I was around seven-years-old, my mother forgot me at the imambargah for a brief moment of 10 minutes. Since there was a bunch of us and we were in multiple cars, she assumed that I was in another car other than the one she occupied. I remember being scared, very scared, and feeling unimportant since they forgot me behind, along with multiple thoughts running in my head about what will happen to me. Being the youngest of five, I always assumed that when it was time to take care of me, my mother just gave up after taking care of four children. But the moment I laid my teary eyes upon my mother, who was hysterically asking around if someone had seen her daughter, I was instantly proven wrong. Fast forward two decades, and a similar incident takes place, except the venue of the incident is a lot more fun, entertaining and not the least bit religious – Sindbad Dolmen Mall – and the victim is different too. A few days ago, a bunch of us decided to go to Sindbad when we came across Sidra*. Sidra was, give or take, seven-years-old and the only reason I even took notice of her was because she would show up at every game we would stop to play. Since it was a weekday and it wasn’t very crowded, we could easily feel the presence of this girl following us wherever we went. It came to a point where she knew about every single game there, how to play it and how many rounds you get per token. That’s when we started to do a bit of inquiry into the whereabouts of her caretaker. When we asked the management and staff if they knew who this girl was with or who she was, they were as clueless as we were. Upon inquiring from Sidra where her mother or caretaker was, she told us that her mother had left her all alone in Sindbad to play and keep herself busy hours ago while she was downstairs, shopping away. I must say that this incident created two different opinions for me about the mother; either she had a lot of faith in Sindbad’s non-existent security or, I dare not say it, she was not fit to be a mother. The child could have walked out at any point or, God forbid, could have been abducted. How often was this child left behind like this? How often do mothers leave their kids behind, intentionally? A similar incident entailed Shehnaz*, who did not get along with her side of the family. A few months back, Shehnaz decided to leave her 10-year-old daughter Aruba* with the very same relatives, while she went on a little trip to Dubai for a few days. While the mother was busy with an exciting experience of her own, the same could not be said for her daughter, who was being harshly mistreated. And there are many more incidents that can make it to this list. This Mother’s Day, how about we remind mothers all over the world the importance this day has? This day is designated for a position that needs to be earned in order to be celebrated. This is a day that sets examples for future mothers. A day to celebrate the nurturing, the endless sacrifices, the tears shed on your graduation or every time you got hurt, all the pain endured, all the worrying and sleepless nights. This is a day to celebrate something which cannot be put into mere words. It is an occasion that deserves a lifetime of celebration; just one day out of 365 simply does not do it justice. And therefore, the magnitude of this day needs to be understood by all mothers. Don’t get me wrong, I love my mother to death and vice versa. Yet, I still guilt trip her every now and then on how unintentionally careless she was that she forgot me, her youngest, the baby of the house, even if it was for a brief moment – just to bug her of course. But even when it’s mentioned as a joke, I can see the guilt taking over on her face, and that cleans the slate. Rest assured, she will be getting her Mother’s Day celebrations. This day is one not to be taken for granted, especially by those who choose to leave their child behind, unattended, for a shopping spree, regardless of what the reasons or circumstances might be. Every mother does not deserve to be celebrated, and every mother does not deserve Mother’s Day. Undeserving mothers, who abdicate their true responsibility, are honoured just because they are mothers. And that is not fair to all the extraordinary moms out there. That, in essence, is taking out the mother from Mother’s Day. *Names have been changed to protect their identity

In the southern coastal belt of India and the Malabar side, there has been an obsession among youngsters to flock to the Middle East for a better livelihood. The trend embarked in the late 60s, as a result of the oil boom in most parts of the Arab gulf region. With a shortage of labour force at home, the requirement for semi-skilled and highly-skilled labour from third world countries elevated and thus began the influx of thousands of workers from India, Pakistan and Bangladesh. Initially, in the early 70s, Kuwait and Bahrain attracted huge labour force as massive oil extraction work was in progress, and later on Saudi Arabia, Qatar, Libya, Oman and United Arab Emirates emerged as the oil rich hubs of the Middle East region. Most of the pioneering work force benefited, as most of the oil-and-gas and civil-related projects were undertaken by European and American companies. The pay scale was reasonable; moreover, safety and health standards were high, creating a viable working environment. But things began to slide down post-80s, when several Indian sole traders and private companies sprang up, employing unskilled labour, usually for a paltry remuneration. The private Indian management flouted all labour welfare measures enshrined by the Middle Eastern governments. Suddenly, Middle East seemed no longer the ‘road towards richness’, and the exploitation of workers proceeded. In the following years, as India’s population exploded, it had its direct effects on employment and resulted in rampant poverty, making a day’s meal hard to meet. This forced large chunks of young men to venture into the Arabian Desert, and leave behind their agonies in order to feed their loved ones. Their desperation and hardships back home were duly taken advantage of by the employers, as any amount of wage would be thankfully received with both hands, without the slightest protest. This wave of gulf procession created a vicious network of employment agents across India, operating with a sole objective of duping the workers with false promises, illegal fee charges and bribes. These employment agents kept a strong nexus with Indian employers and business owners in the Middle East, with a mutual benefit for both the parties. This evil network still thrives and continues to carry out their activities with impunity. Disturbingly, the Indian government has turned a blind eye and failed to recognise this as a crime, as its own officials are often well-fed and bribed by the agents. Interestingly, the Middle East too makes tall claims of its infrastructure and industrial progress, which are often exaggerated. In particular, take the case of Dubai; what one sees in downtown Dubai sharply contrasts its other side that exists beneath its gigantic towers and luxurious hotels (especially the industrial area and the civil work sites). Unfortunately, the downtown Dubai is the real deal and the rest of it, which one sees in the form of skyscrapers and colossal shopping malls, is all bogus. The flashy Dubai is built with the blood of ill-treated workers. Most of the workers are either illiterate or uneducated and emerge from extremely poor backgrounds. They are accommodated in tiny unfurnished rooms with five to eight other members; this makes life extremely uneasy and uncomfortable. The food is prepared through camp mess; some Indian companies never stress any importance to this aspect. The food is often unhygienic and unsanitary, prepared in bulk with least preference to taste. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Accommodation provided to workers. Photo: Chris Dsouza[/caption] Most of the workforce takes jobs mainly because they are left without options. It’s the hunger back home that drives them to accept such working conditions, in greedy, uncongenial and employee-unfriendly companies, despite distress. The management of most Indian companies function with their own whims and desires, leaving no authority to question them. This is a sad reality and the true state of most Indian-run companies here in the Middle East, which involves massive worker exploitation, harassment, delayed payment, dreadful safety standards and health facilities and lamentably modest wages, insufficient, nearly half the amount promised by agents during recruitment. This is a scandal by the Indian industrialists and businessmen against their fellow countrymen and it needs to be stopped, once and for all.

When I made the decision to move to the notorious land called Pakistan, because of my husband’s job, there were mixed reactions from the community (to say the least). My non-Pakistani and non-Muslim friends were terrified for my safety and were keen on reminding me of the short list of communities; their concerns involved my husband’s salary, the tough humidity, and the eternal inconvenience of load-shedding.  Ignoring all concerns, I decided to take on the adventure and assured my friends that I was happy and ready for anything. Boy did I lie. I was terrified – but very much in love. I had been living in the American Bubble As Americans, we value our privacy, our personal space, our neatly scheduled routines and our mood swings. After struggling through some awkward social encounters and unannounced guests coming to my house at midnight for kava (green tea), I soon realised that if I wanted to accumulate the least amount of stress and still be happy, I would have to pop my American bubble. As a new bride, I was treated like a princess. No, seriously; I was a princess. My mother-in-law’s relatives and friends would come to see me and my job was simply to change into gorgeous dresses adorned with gems and embroidery, look flawless and smile. Yes, for a brief five months, I got a small taste of what it feels like in Kate Middleton’s (shoes) sari. Another struggle was controlling my mood swings. Not only could a nosy neighbour or a sister-in-law come unannounced at any time, they expected the gracious hostess (me) to welcome them with open arms, leave all that I was doing, give them company in the living room and whip up some bangin’ samosas. At one occasion I remember comforting my two-month-old daughter, with my post-partum hormones all over the place. The doorbell rang and relatives surprised us. And I mean really surprised us. When I blamed my hormones to be the cause of the messy house and my dishevelled state, the jolly ‘auntie’ told me that today’s generation blames everything on hormones, PMS and a crying baby. Code for: I’ll hold the baby; now go make some tea for us. Would you like a maid with that? My mother-in-law prides herself in the fact that she raised eight children and worked as an entrepreneur without hiring a maid or housekeeper. My father-in-law remembers it a bit differently. According to him, even though ami (mother) never hired anyone, she had tons of help in the form of her sisters, sisters-in-law and neighbours who took care of babysitting, cooking, cleaning and even being part-time masseuses. So, there are two kinds of help in Pakistan: your paid employees or the help network made up of relatives and friends. Almost everyone I know has a part-time maid. At first, I found it strange that women could entrust their entire household duties to a stranger as I was raised to be independent in every sense. Code for: We Americans don’t know how to delegate well or ask for help. In the past five years, I went through five man-servants until I learned how to train, trust and delegate. Trust me; this is one of the greatest blessings of living in Pakistan. Labour is cheap, which means that you can always find someone to work for you and this is one of the reasons why most middle-class families are able to afford housekeepers. It is also the reason why the women have active social lives and always seem to be enjoying themselves through long Skype chats with friends, hosting kitty parties or simply going shopping. Pakistani kids are just as much spoiled as American kids I remember teaching at a private, international school two-years-ago as a Mathematics and Social Studies teacher for grades three, four and five. I was told to speak English slowly as the children were getting confused because of my accent. However, I soon realised that their English was far better than I expected. In fact, their grammar was much better than most Americans. I remember my excitement as I brought in my iPad on the third day expecting them to hover around me in a circle, impressed and intrigued in every way. But boy was I wrong. There they sat, their bored faces staring back at me. Thankfully, one of the fifth graders sensed my wonder and enlightened me to the fact that every single child in that room had an iPad at home. The surprises were not exclusive to private elementary schools. On a visit to my aunt’s house, I found her stressing over her son’s job. He had just graduated college and was looking for his dream job (which might take a while). I suggested that in the meantime, he work as a waiter or become a delivery guy for Pizza Hut. My aunt and my cousin stared at me in disbelief and simply started laughing.  Utterly puzzled, I asked them what was funny. Apparently, it was beneath them to work in such a low level job. My uncle and aunt decided to support their son until a more suitable position opened. Where did the burqas go? Let me tell you something; Pakistani women are strong, beautiful and very up-to-date. In fact, wearing a hijab, I’m considered very conservative (and inferior) in many parts of the country. My first time strolling through Islamabad shopping malls, I was baffled. Women and girls of all ages adorned themselves in the latest American and Pakistani fashions, with some even wearing sleeveless dresses. Speaking flawless English, a girl sitting behind me at Thank God It’s Friday (TGIF) – yes, the American restaurant – politely asked me: “Do you wear the hijab even in America?” She was shocked when I replied in the affirmative. Even conservative areas like Kohat and Peshawar have relaxed their cultural customs when it comes to the once-traditional black burqa. In fact, the newer generations deem it old-fashioned and opt for a more modern look based on Dubai-based designers. Women are avid drivers, hold public offices, celebrities, models, have their own morning shows, can be found jogging in the local park, bargaining confidently with shopkeepers, debating fearlessly on college campuses, and even riding motorcycles on Islamabad Highway. I hear Karachi is even more modernised. It makes me wonder why we ever thought that Malala Yousafzai was the measuring stick for all Pakistani women. Even in the smaller villages, women have countless freedoms and girls are happily and actively pursuing their education. In fact, the list of restrictions seems to be diminishing and I simply wonder why these success stories fail to be heard on a global platform. They don’t hate us As a newbie to Pakistan, I was discouraged by many friends and family members to not show open support for Americans. In fact, avoid bringing the topic up at all. Naturally, I was terrified and tried my best to cover up my accent while speaking Urdu. However, as I began to travel and meet more people within the country, I realised something – Pakistani people don’t hate Americans. In fact, they love our lifestyles, our movies, our cities, our food, and our education systems. Whenever people heard me speaking English in my Jersey accent, they wanted to know everything about my life in New Jersey. To their disappointment, I had never met Angelina Jolie. The women respected me more as a mother and treated me as a perpetual guest in their country. In the conservative towns, even the local religious leaders spoke fondly of Americans and focused on the fact that Americans sent the most aid to Pakistan throughout the year. As I waited at the American embassy with my husband to get his visit visa, I was shocked to see the crowds in the waiting room, all applying for a chance to visit the States. The one lesson that I learned was that it is the politicians and media that play with our emotions. The public and the common men are eloquently tolerant and united by the eternal bond of humanity and yearning to learn from each other. So what? My aim is not to defend Pakistan nor do I have a political agenda. I am simply surprised at the perception the international world has of Pakistanis. When I am away from Pakistan, I am only shown bearded men and women in burqas. Even entertainment such as Homeland focuses on the dark side of Pakistan, never shedding light on the greater good. On the contrary, when I am in Pakistan, I am only shown the vibrant Cherry Blossom festivals of Washington, DC or the ferocious life of Times Square. Never do I see reports of the gun violence, police brutality or Islamophobic campaigns in America. I encourage you all to travel around the world. Seize those opportunities and make new ones. In these past five years, I have grown in ways I never thought I could and learned that there are two sides to everything and everyone. Our minds can only open when our bodies make the effort. This post originally appeared here. 

She never expected her marriage to come to an end. No woman ever does. She distinctly remembers the day she was betrothed and how excited she was. Her mother kept telling her not to smile for she had to make it look like she was genuinely sad about leaving her father’s home, but secretly she was over the moon. He was perfect; good looking, professionally accomplished, lived abroad and came from a good family background, and to top it off, he loved her wholeheartedly. What a beautiful union it was. Everyone was smiling and everything was going to be completely perfect. And yet, here she was standing outside his family home in Islamabad, in broad daylight, screaming at the top of her lungs and banging her hands against the wrought iron gates

“Where is he? Where is he? Where is my son? Answer me now.”

“Madam, he is not here, everyone has left.”

“No, no, no!” she cried as she slowly collapsed to the ground. “My son! My son! My son! I want my son!”

“Get up, get in the car and stop making a scene; we will deal with them later.”

“I am not moving mother. My son needs his nappy to be changed and I will wait for him to come back,” she said looking at her mother with her slightly crazed eyes. “Get in the car right now,” her mother said pulling her up with more force than before.

“He’s gone Abba, he’s gone!”

“Relax; he can’t have left the country with him since we have his passport, so calm down. We will go over to his uncle’s house and see if he has taken the child over there.”

“How can they apply for his American passport without the mother’s signature or knowledge?” “I don’t know. Islamically the child belongs to the father, not the mother.”

“Islamically? Islamically? What about beating your wife viciously? Is that allowed Islamically? What about not providing any money for food or clothes? Is that allowed Islamically? Don’t twist Islam to fulfil your own needs. Give me my son,” she screamed hysterically.

London held a host of activities highlighting Pakistan and the cultural vibrancy it has to offer to the world. This weekend saw the launch of Suzali, a platform showcasing Pakistan’s most well-renowned designers which included Mehreen Noorani, Nida Azwer, Naureen Arbab, Lalarukh, Shirin Hassan, and Sarah Anees.  Although these designers are well-established in Pakistan and Dubai, they are not so accessible to Pakistanis living in London. Suzali aims to provide a bridge between renowned Pakistani designers and potential customers in England who have limited access to high-quality Pakistani clothes. Sana Habib, the brainchild of Suzali, was inspired to create the name using the abbreviated letters of the children in her family and truly provided a very familial environment within the exhibition. Sana’s family were exceptionally welcoming, warm and helpful throughout the whole experience. Additionally, the event was held at “The Arch” hotel in central London, an area which is often populated with wealthy Arabs smoking their hookahs and regaling tales of happier times. The hotel had a very chic and minimalistic ambience, which melded in beautifully with the intricate handiwork of the clothes. There were a mixture of formal, semi-formal, casual, and fusion of Pakistani and western wear on offer, so one was completely spoiled for choice and the prices were reasonable. Suzali will be holding four exhibitions every year, but customers can also request private viewings from Sana. All contact details are available at the bottom of the page. Following on from Suzali, I visited London’s prestigious Southbank Centre to visit the 'Dil Phaink' exhibition organised by Peace Niche which was an ode to Pakistani culture and art. This was a part of a wider festival called Alchemy, which was a celebration of works of art from India, Bangladesh, and Sri Lanka. Upon entrance to the Queen Elizabeth Hall, one was met with a commemorative plaque to Sabeen Mahmud, who was tragically gunned down in Karachi. The artwork was reminiscent of a typical street seen in Karachi with a tailor shop. There was also a truck art installation and film posters of the golden years of Pakistani cinema. Additionally, the British Council and students from Szabist had collaborated to show short films based on the lives of four very different lives in the vibrant city of Karachi, including the caretaker of the Jewish graveyard. This truly was a wonderful experience and showed Pakistan in a positive light even after being shrouded in so much negativity. Huge thumbs up to the efforts of the students at Szabist. To top it all off, there was live poetry reading by Dr Khalid Jawaid Jan who recited his revolutionary poem “Main Baghi Hoon” (I am a rebel) to an eager audience which was met by rapturous applause. This was followed by Kishwer Naheed reading two controversial poems which were in line with her feminist stance. The impetus behind the poetry workshop was to translate well-known Pakistani poetry into English, and thus make it more available for people in England. Indeed, after each poet recited their poem in Urdu, a translator would then read out the English translation. This project was organised by Highlight Arts, who organise such literary festivals as a way of opening up dialogue between two nations that would otherwise not have any bridge between them. In November 2014, two Scottish poets went to Lahore to participate in a similar event. It was very refreshing to see remnants of a bright and colourful Pakistan amongst the drab grey skies of London. The only temptation that remained was to book a flight to Pakistan and experience the sounds and sights in person. Pakistan Zindabad! All photos are by Faiza Iqbal.

I have been living in Dubai for the past three years, and since my immediate family is based in Dubai, I haven’t gotten a chance to travel home much. But being an expat, I still miss Karachi. The city still feels like home because I was born and raised there and have numerous memories attached to it. Recently, I had the chance of visiting Karachi after a very long time and ended up enjoying it way more than Dubai. Turns out, Karachi is better than Dubai in a number of ways. 1. When it comes to food, there’s no comparison I feel this is an obvious one. The food in Karachi tastes much better than the food in Dubai. Our bun kebabs, biryanis, and barbeque are simply mouth-watering. There are Pakistani restaurants in Dubai as well, but only a few have the authentic Pakistani taste, and even that’s not anywhere close to the food in Karachi. The best part is that this delicious food is available at every street corner of Karachi. 2. Every degree counts The weather in Karachi and Dubai isn’t very different from each other, except that Karachi is usually five to 10 degrees cooler than Dubai, which makes a lot of difference. The intense heat and temperature in Dubai are unbearable during the summer and the prospect of outdoor activities is non-existent. Also, Karachi winters are just perfect, whereas Dubai winters feel like moderate summer. 3. The importance of U-turns  The laws and layout of the roads are more relaxed as compared to Dubai. For instance, while driving in Karachi, you can take a U-turn easily, but in Dubai, majority of the roads don’t have U-turns. In fact, at times, you have to drive long distances to find a cut. Want to cross the road? Do it from anywhere you like in Karachi, but in Dubai, you can’t cross the road from just anywhere without risking a fine, other than a zebra crossing. Just as almost every Karachiite has been subjected of street crime, nearly every other person in Dubai has been subjected to street fines. 4. “I will give you best price” If you have ever sold your used/old electronics in Dubai, you would know what a hassle it is. In Karachi, there is an established market for buying and selling old electronics, and that even for a reasonable price. Even if it’s complete junk, you will be able to get something for it. I had a laptop, as well as an obsolete cell phone which I wanted to sell and it took me 10 minutes to sell them off for a reasonable price in Karachi. Perhaps the only way to dispose used and old electronics in Dubai would be throwing them down the garbage chute or in a bin. 5. When you buy things and convert Dirhams to Rupees or vice versa As per the Economic Intelligence Unit (EIU), Karachi is the cheapest city in the world. If you convert everything from Dirhams to Rupees, it feels way cheaper in comparison to Dubai. While shopping at Hyperstar in Dolmen Mall one evening, I kept buying items, mainly some local edibles which I wanted to take back to Dubai, as well as stock up for the time I was in Karachi. I kept picking up things off the shelves and noticed my trolley was stuffed. When I proceeded to the checkout, the bill was only about Rs1,600. My excitement escalated when I realised that I only paid AED60 for everything that I bought. Karachi, the city of lights, is the economic capital of Pakistan. Unfortunately, it has been marred by violence and other issues over the years. Perhaps Dubai may not have developed as much were it not for the violence in Karachi  during the 80s. But we Karachiites still love Karachi. It’s a great city and will always be our home.

The viral video that showcased Paris Hilton being allegedly tricked in to believing her plane is about to crash didn’t make me laugh; it didn’t even make me smile or chuckle inwardly. In fact, I was struck by strong indignation as Ramez Galal, producer of Egyptian TV series ‘Ramez in Control’, made the 35-year-old socialite believe that the plane she was getting an aerial view of Dubai in was about to crash. [embed width="620"height="348"]https://vimeo.com/132053574[/embed] I grimaced at the ensuing scene of horror and panic while Hilton displayed the appropriate amount of terror. When the man posing as a flight attendant opened the back hatch and dragged another man out of the plane, my heart bled. The canned screams and practiced terror followed by laughs and mentions of the word ‘joke’ made me seethe in fury. In the last year alone, hundreds of families have lost loved ones to aviation disasters. Many bodies were so badly mangled in these plane crashes that countless people did not experience the closure that comes alongside saying goodbye to their loved ones one last time and formally burying them. There were families who lost not one, but multiple members in different plane crashes. Then there are those who are still waiting, every single day, for news — any news— of loved ones who were aboard the MH370 that vanished in March 2014. Just three days ago, an Indonesian military plane went down killing 140 people – that is 140 families who lost someone they loved. A plane crash is not funny. It is deathly serious. Stories have emerged that Hilton was in on this prank and that the production company was offering somewhere in the million-dollar range to any celebrity willing to partake in it. If this is indeed true, it is unfathomable as to how any feeling person will accept money for a deed that hurts the sentiments of so many – and for what, a few seconds of publicity and a viral video? It is utterly shameful and beyond belief. I would like to ask Mr Galal and all those on board this ‘joke’ if they, for one second, considered how people who have lost loved ones in a plane crash would feel while watching this video. When you carried out the carefully orchestrated plan of a man being flung out of the plane, did you, Mr Galal, think of all those who didn’t have parachutes or any safety gear to break their fall? Did you think it would be funny when mothers and fathers watched, replayed and imagined the horror their children might have gone through in the last seconds of their lives? Karen Perry lost three of her children in a plane crash in 2011. No bodies were recovered in this plane crash, so Perry considered the Superstition Mountain in Arizona where the plane crashed, the gravesite of her three children. Even years after losing her kids, Perry finds the loss hard to cope with. Your crass video, Mr Galal and Miss Hilton, is disrespectful to mothers like Karen Perry. Making a joke of the very real pain and terror people feel in their dying moments is not funny. And accepting money, Ms Hilton, for hurting people’s feelings is not funny. This post originally appeared here. 

Wrong No. is a Pakistani film produced by YNH and ARY Films with the story and direction done by Yasir Nawaz. Wrong No. has pretty much been in the social media limelight for quite some time now. And to tell you the truth, I have been very sceptical about it. I thought expectations would run low once we actually get down to watching it, remember Jalaibee?  [embed width="620"]http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x2t266e[/embed] The premiere was held at Nueplex Cinemas last night. The entire star cast was there, except Javed Sheikh, who was busy with another movie’s press conference in Dubai. There are two lead characters in the movie, Sallu (Danish Taimoor ) and Sheheryar (Danish Taimoor). Confused? [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="540"] Photo: Wrong No. Facebook page[/caption] Danish plays a double role and the movie revolves around Sallu’s attempts at escaping from his family business, who are qasais (butchers), in hopes of becoming an actor one day. On the other hand, Sheheryar (who is a Nawab of some fancy place) becomes the scapegoat. Sounds like Bollywood, doesn’t it? Yes, the movie is garnished and cooked in some Bollywood masalas, but overall, it was a fun-filled dose of entertainment. Javed Shaikh (who is a butcher) plays the role of Sallu’s father in the movie. His presence makes the movie worth watching. Every time he comes on screen, I either had a huge smile on my face or a major fit of laughter. Sohai Ali Abro plays the role of Sallu’s (Danish) neighbour who is head over heels in love with him. Janita Asma plays the role of Danish Taimoor’s (Sheheryar’s) employee. Shafqat Cheema is seen as doing what he does best, a villain role. However, his screen presence is comparatively lesser, but he does do justice to whatever on-screen time he had. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="595"] Photo: Wrong No. Facebook page[/caption] Nadeem Jafri and Danish Nawaz are also seen in a comical role which will leave you hungry for more of their acting. Instead of talking about the basic storyline (which I already mentioned will remind you of Bollywood, in a good way), I think it would be more appropriate to give you a spoiler free review and stick to what was highlighted most in the movie. As speculated, Wrong No. is a movie which has some really good punch lines with not-so-decent humour. Would you be able to watch it with your family you ask? Depends. The answer is quite relative to your dose of Bollywood consumption. So if have you been watching Bollywood flicks such as Housefull, Garam Masala, and Desi Boys with your family, then you will completely be at ease. Songs? What Songs? You can’t excel at everything and this is where Wrong No. failed to impress me. There were quite a few songs in the movie, six to be specific. They all have some good up-beat music with catchy lines. But only Selfiyaan came close to what I would say was a good (if not the best) song from Wrong No. [embed width="620"]http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x2tw9ge[/embed] Lahore. Karachi. Metro. Samsung. Rivo. Repeat! Being a marketer by heart, I love noticing small details. From Cuckoo’s Den in Lahore overlooking the Badshahi Mosque to Karachi’s Baloch Colony flyover, some really famous places were selected for the shoot. And obviously, talking about Lahore, how can we miss the metro? Two words, ‘free publicity’! Samsung and Rivo were spotted as well. I believe they are the sponsors. A blurry Dalda bottle also shared a few seconds of screen time with the stars. Javed Shaikh’s grandson also makes an appearance. Don’t worry, I don’t remember the child’s name either. His lines and dialogue delivery were a standout though. He is around 10-years-old and his acting skills are brilliant. You’ll know what I’m talking about once you watch the movie. The audience was literally in fits of laughter for a good two to three minutes after his on screen performance. The first half of the movie is like a bullet train and the second half starts like a local Shaheen. As the movie starts at such a fast pace, the fact that it slows down in the second half cannot be ignored. However, by the end of second half, things pick up speed and you’ll find yourself enjoying it once again. Most of the punch lines are also used in the first half of the movie. Getting popcorn during the interval would be a good idea. I would also recommend you to not use your brains and do the math, as I was doing in my head and asking questions like “how did he reach Karachi to Lahore in a jiffy” or “how did he know where the kidnappers are hiding?” It’s a comedy fun flick which only requires you to relax, laugh and enjoy. Overall, I believe Wrong No. is totally worth your time and money. Music: Two out of five Eye candy: Four out of five Direction: Four out of five Overall: Four out of five [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="594"] Photo: Sadiya Azhar[/caption] [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="594"] Photo: Sadiya Azhar[/caption] [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="594"] Photo: Sadiya Azhar[/caption] [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="594"] Photo: Sadiya Azhar[/caption] [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="373"] Photo: Sadiya Azhar[/caption] [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="594"] Photo: Sadiya Azhar[/caption] [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="596"] Photo: Sadiya Azhar[/caption] [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="594"] Photo: Sadiya Azhar[/caption] [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="594"] Photo: Sadiya Azhar[/caption] [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="594"] Photo: Sadiya Azhar[/caption] [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="594"] Photo: Sadiya Azhar[/caption] [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="594"] Photo: Sadiya Azhar[/caption] This post originally appeared here.

Having been raised in two Muslim countries, UAE and Pakistan, Eid has always been the festival of the year for me. I won’t lie, but from childhood till date, my favourite Eid has always been Eidul Fitr, in other words, Choti Eid. In Dubai, Eid was all about henna. Trust me, if you know the art of henna painting, cash in on your strengths and rush to Dubai. All the salons will be packed. In a country like UAE, where no one in their right mind can imagine having heaters, on the eve of Eid, you’ll find Arab women drying their henna painted hands and feet with the help of heaters. While I waited for my turn at the salon, my mother would be busy making the dessert of the year,Sheer Khorma. We would wake up on Eid day to my father yelling at my brothers, since they never wake up on time for Eid prayers. Once the prayers were done, we’d start our day with the Sheer Khorma followed by Puri Channa. After getting ready, my father would give me Eidi, which would always be the heftiest amongst all the other Eidis. Our next stop would be at Patchi, a famous chocolatier and the boutique to go for beautifully wrapped chocolates in the most exclusive of all trays. There my father would decide on the route and the number of families we had to visit. This was usually the fun part; hopping from one family friend’s place to the other, as we didn’t have any relatives in Dubai. The highlight of the day was the Eid party at night, because this is when we would get more Eidi for all the relatives. The second day of Eid would be an open house at our hose and the same people we would visit on the first day of Eid would come visit us. However, even though it would be a holiday, all of us would be up early in the morning since Eid in Pakistan would always be the next day. We would start off with the Eid Mubaraks to my paternal side of the family, followed by our maternal side of the family. The third day of Eid would be a downer only because it meant the end of Eid holidays. Eid with family friends had its own highs, yet these celebrations are only time bound. Just like all good things come to an end, Eid with family friends is restricted to a few hours. On the other hand, Eid in Lahore was the real deal. Or Chaand raat definitely was. One of the downers of Eid in Dubai used to be the limited clothes option we had to choose from. This is before the influx of Pakistani designers or Eid exhibitions in Dubai. Hence, all Pakistani families had to resort to either getting their Eid clothes tailored during their summer vacations to Pakistan, or earnestly hope a relative or friend from Pakistan would be coming to Dubai so that your relatives could send in a few joras with them. Another option was to go with what we had and that was buying Indian clothes. Now Indian clothes would definitely be perfect for a wedding, but it’s Eid, and you just want a nice semi-formal outfit, which you could never get from an Indian boutique. And this is why Eid in Lahore was no less than a shopping paradise. Nothing can beat the shopping trips with the cousins in the last week of Ramazan. Chand raat meant being out with cousins, trying to find the right pair of shoes and chooriyan (bangles). All of us would end up at Dupatta Galli in Liberty. The shopping and traffic wars would end with the men complaining about the ordeal they were put through. Herein, the first day of Eid meant a khandaan (family) reunion at my Dadi’s (paternal grandmother) ancestral home. It would start off with channa, puris, hareesas and then sevaiyan. Then came the Eidi, which was followed by all the cousins crafting plans of what all could be done with the Eidi. It’s another thing that no such plan would ever materialise. This would be followed by waiting the entire day for our ancestral cook to churn out the staple lunch feast, be it Eidul Fitr, Eidul Azha or a Barsi (death anniversary), the korma, biryani and zarda was the fixed menu. End of story. A fact about Eid in Pakistan is everything would be centered around competition. Every family would like to up the other, be it in the grand feasts they lay out, to how the women dressed or how extravagant they were with the new notes they dished out as Eidi. However, in Dubai, everyone loved decking up and putting out a grand spread but the real fun was in meeting up, laughing about past incidents, playing home videos and reminiscing about all the people who had left Dubai and moved either to their homeland or Canada (somehow everyone just ended up going there). In Dubai, plans of going out and spending your Eidi actually did happen. There were always lunch and movie plans which would happen post-Eid or as we liked to call it, the fourth day of Eid. Eid with family friends had its own charm; it was devoid of any animosity hidden behind fake smiles and forced Eid Mubaraks. There was zero competition which absolutely made Eid a delight, rather than a trial of all sorts. This year, I’ll be celebrating Eid in Karachi for the first time, away from my family, relatives, family friends and most importantly as a married woman. Now that I’m away from all of them, one thing I did realise is, love them or hate them, Eid is only festive and fun only with loved ones around. The upside about Eid as a married girl is the joras galore, Eidi from the husband and the in-laws, but what I’m anxiously waiting for is the Eidi that will come from my parents all the way from Lahore. I know how my mom would have visited every outlet scrutinising every outfit in the quest for the perfect Eid attire and one that would also colour coordinate with the Eidi she’s sending her son-in-law. In this case, I know the Eidi would be over the top, but in all honesty, this Eidi definitely is one where I absolutely feel it’s the thought that counts. Knowing that my mother’s hands packed outfits for me means the world to me. This Eid will be calmer and more relaxed since we don’t have any extended family in Karachi and this makes me ponder over life; I feel it’s come a full circle. In Dubai, Eid was all about friends and the same goes with my Eid in Karachi. On a brighter note, Eid would mean holidays and now I have a third city added to my Eid memoirs.

Recently, the Chief Minister of Sindh, Qaim Ali Shah, along with some of his cabinet members travelled all the way to Dubai to attend a meeting co-chaired by the co-chairman and chairman of Pakistan People’s Party (PPP), neither of whom, by the way, hold any office of authority in the government of Sindh or Pakistan, yet are ‘powerful’ enough to have the Sindh government come to them for directions. What were these directions that could only be given in Dubai, only in person and not via a teleconference, letter or a phone call? Well, first off, it is an established fact that Mr Asif Ali Zardari alone is heavier than all (aik Zardari sab pe bhari), so maybe it was cheaper and more convenient for the Sindh cabinet and CM to go to him, than he, the ‘heavy one’ coming to Sindh. Also it was during Eid and, God forbid, if these ‘popular’ leaders were forced to spend Eid amongst the people they ‘love so dearly’. So it makes sense to have a dozen people travel to Dubai instead of two travelling to Sindh to decide Sindh affairs. Any criticism on this particular aspect of the meeting is thus unjustified. As for the agenda of this meeting, recent actions by law enforcement agencies, Rangers to be precise, in Karachi have become a cause of concern for all stakeholders. The higher your stakes in Karachi, more the concern. Ever since the Rangers have hinted upon widening the scope of their operation to ‘economic terrorism’ and that even to parties other than Muttahida Qaumi Movement (MQM), PPP has been a little edgy. When Rangers started arresting government officers who were likely to spill the beans, PPP became defensive, then suddenly offensive and then again defensive. The bhari Zardari’s bhari outburst just before leaving the country, revealed how Rangers had touched a bhari nerve. MQM was already a target and now PPP was a promised next. Corrupt elements within the PPP could have been exposed, tarnishing the party, its leaders, its leaders’ siblings, and their ‘adopted’ brothers. So when some powerful ‘others’ had taken notice of mammoth corruption in Sindh, the ruling party also decided that it is time to take notice of their own. PPP decided to start taking measures against the flourishing culture of corruption in Sindh, or at least look like taking these measures. Anti-corruption and inspection teams were directed to become visible, government officials were asked to act like they were doing all they can against corrupt subordinates. Rumours were leaked of axing some ‘corrupt’ ministers from Shah ji’s cabinet. This meeting was called to decide the fate of these ministers and their departments on the basis of ‘performance’. Basically, it was decided to make some changes and not change anything. No minister was axed, only departments were exchanged. The portfolio of Ministry of Information has been taken from Mr Sharjeel Memon and given to Nisar Khuhro, whose portfolio of Education and literacy department has been given to Mr Mir Hazaar Khan Bijrani whose portfolio for Works and Services has been given to Sharjeel Memon. So if Memon had failed to manage the affairs of information and local governments department owing to corruption or incompetence, he will now be given an opportunity to fail at running Works and Services department. The Works and Services department was previously suffering under Mr Bijrani, so he has now been given a shot at the Education department. The Education department suffered large scale corruption and mismanagement under Khuhro who will now be heading the Ministry of Information. Similar changes have also been made in Sindh’s bureaucracy. The Sindh government also recently decided to take action against corrupt government officials, and give more authority to the anti-corruption establishment. The object of all these measures seems to create the perception of fighting the menace of corruption, instead of taking any real steps in that direction. Mr Zardari is wise, or at least wiser than most in his league, he knows he is not fooling anyone into withdrawing from their stance against PPP and Sindh government's corruption, or from their plans to act against it. But he also knows that he only needs to fool the masses into believing that PPP is sincerely working to eradicate corruption and clean Karachi. If and when actual steps are taken by Rangers or any other, PPP can play their ever green, ever effective ‘victim’ card.

Most of us, if not all, go to the UAE on a visit visa in order to search for a job. And the majority of us have no guarantee of finding a satisfying job. It takes time to research and locate your ideal job post in UAE. If you are unemployed, make this task your full-time job; if you’re employed, set aside some time every day after work for your job search, after all, we’re all looking for the next best opportunity. Speaking from experience, here are a few suggestions and tips I would like to share with you for a successful job hunting experience that helped me land a job in Dubai. 1. Know your market UAE has a highly competitive job market, where the number of expatriates reached up to 83.5%. Due to the Emiratisation policy, first preference is given to local candidates followed by western and Arab citizens and lastly, western-educated candidates. Asians are high in supply and low in demand, thus receiving comparatively lesser salaries. Therefore, it is strongly suggested to develop a competitive advantage, create strong linkages, and take calculated risks and informed decisions on the basis of market realities in order to qualify for any well-paid job in the UAE. It is strongly recommended that one should secure employment before travelling to the UAE. Speculative visits are occasionally successful and rarely lead to an offer of employment unless you are extremely lucky or have good networks and contacts in preferred sector. Therefore, it is highly suggested you start your job search from your own country, that too, at least one to three months before your planned visit. Most of the jobs, especially white collar jobs in the UAE, advertise at least 20 to 30 days before starting their screening, shortlisting, and interviewing process. This way, you will be able to gauge your market potential. If you receive any kind of positive response, then it is suggested you move ahead otherwise do not take any risks. If you start applying after entering the UAE, you will be wasting at least 20 to 30 days out of your 30 to 90-days visit visa. Narrow down your search with reference to sectors and potential positions that you want to apply for, which means look for those opportunities that match your core competencies, career goals, personal priorities, and experience to secure your targeted job within limited time and resources. Research job opportunities and potential employers and create forward linkages besides continuously updating your knowledge, skills, and expertise. According to my observation and findings, it is highly likely to find a job in the education, healthcare, tourism, hospitality, logistics, export, construction, and retail sectors as these sectors are booming in the UAE. While production, manufacturing and automotive sectors are showing sluggish sentiments, petroleum and petrochemicals, fishing, aluminium, cement, fertilisers, banking, commercial ship repair, construction materials, boat building, handicrafts and textiles are the major industries in the UAE. Therefore, pertinent professionals are suggested to take informed decisions accordingly. 2. How to apply Prepare multiple impressive résumés and cover letters. Chronological, functional and combined résumé formats are acceptable in the UAE. It is suggested that you state your name, contact number, email and postal address (in case of being in the UAE) along with your passport-sized picture at the top of your résumé. Your personal information, for instance, nationality, date of birth, passport number, visa status and if you own a driving license, should be included at the bottom of your résumé. While applying from your home country, mention your UAE-based friend’s or relative’s contact numbers with their due consent so that the employer can contact you via this number. When you reach the UAE, buy your own SIM and update your contact information accordingly. Make sure the recruitment agency and HR personnel you’re dealing with are legitimate and not demanding any kind of fee for giving you a job. Many of these hiring companies and HR personnel are a scam, promising to submit your résumé to prospective employers or give you a job, thus fleecing the job hunter. They are well aware that visitors will leave the country within a short span of time and will not be able to claim a refund or report any malpractice. Therefore, please be cautious. Before applying for a visa, confirm whether it is extendable or not. Since January 1, 2015, the UAE government has scraped the visit visa extension policy. One can get a non-expendable visit visa for one month to three months at the cost of AED800 and AED2,100 respectively. 3. What you need to apply Initially, it is very difficult to land a job in the UAE. Therefore, it is suggested not to expect high salaries. If one receives an offer which matches up to their current salary along with accommodation and transportation, then he/she should accept the offer as it is easy to jump from one opportunity to another after getting experience in the local market, especially for well-qualified and competent individuals who have a better chance. There is no ban for skipping from job to job before the end of a contract according to the Free Zones or government organisations in the UAE. If you are visiting the UAE on a visit visa, it is suggested one keeps around AED2,000 with themselves to show the airport authorities that you have enough money to finance your visit. A lot of people have said they were not allowed to depart from Pakistan if they had less than the mentioned amount, though the authorities do not ask for financial proof all the time. At least I myself have not been asked by authorities at the airport, the only question I was asked by the immigration officers was why I was visiting the country. My suggestion is to dress smartly, keep the specified amount with yourself and definitely not mention the fact you are going to look for a job. Instead, tell them you are visiting for recreational purposes. According to the latest survey by Jobs Portal and Bayt.com, 41.5% of responding companies in the Middle East and North African region always research new hires online before hiring. In some of the online job application forms, a considerable number of organisations seek web addresses of your social networks and LinkedIn profile to assess your candidacy with reference to the given job and their corporate culture. Therefore, increase your online visibility, manage your online reputation and try to build your unique online brand and put forth a positive image. Read up on the living and working conditions in Dubai and make arrangements accordingly. On an average, it costs approximately AED500 to 800 for housing, AED300 to 600 for food and AED400 to 700 for transportation and communication for one month. Due to such steep costs, it’s important to learn about benefits offered by employers, whether accommodation, transportation, and return tickets are included in the package. These things can eat up a large part of your salary if you have to pay for them yourself. In today’s job market, one’s references and network determines your net worth, as you can tap into the ‘hidden’ job market by maximising your existing network along with developing a list of contacts through friends, family, former co-workers and your social institutions or alumni. 4. Social media should be your new best friend Create a profile on LinkedIn and update its status regularly. Create ‘Job Wanted’ ads on job sites like www.dubizzle.com and share the same on LinkedIn and other social media forums and professional circles. Reach out to the people in your network and speak to them, ask them for advice, helpful information regarding jobs, and job leads. Prepare your own pitch by describing who you are, your background, and what you are specifically looking for from the person you are contacting. The most effective and recommended tools for job hunting in the UAE are network and references, followed by online job sites like www.byte.com, www.dubizzle.com, www.gulftalent.com, www.naukrigulf.com, www.nadia-me.com, www.jnjobs4u.com, www.catererglobal.com,Gulf News Classifieds, Khaleej Times, and LinkedIn besides official websites of potential companies in the UAE. One can also apply by visiting offices of all the potential employers and companies. Jebel Ali Free Zone, Sharjah industrial area, Dubai Financial Centre, Dubai Textile City, Education City etc. are suggested for dropping your resume by hand for low cadre positions only. The most time-tested and effective technique for job hunting in the UAE is to apply for matching positions through online job portals, Google search and company websites and then follow-up through phone calls. One call after submitting the application is enough in order to let the hiring manager know that you have applied for the given position and to tell him/her that you are perfectly competent and eligible for the position. If they don’t give you a chance to discuss this at that point in time, then wait for the closing date of the job advertisement and follow-up just after the closing date and request them to give you the chance on the basis of your competence. Through this, you will maximise your opportunity to appear for an interview. Therefore, the most important point is to be prepared and stay updated on your core competencies and skills in order to pass the test or interview. Always keep a record of all the jobs you have applied for, including Terms of References of vacancies where you have the most chances of being shortlisted for your easy reference, tracking progress, and further follow-up. Keep up to date with the news in your chosen industry, keep reviewing and fine-tuning your resume and keep on trying without losing heart. Eventually, opportunities come to those who dare to take risks and constantly prepare to avail them when they arise. Hope these tips help and good luck to all the job hunters out there!

What are thou going to do today, my lord? I am going to protect minorities in Pakistan. And how would thou protect minorities, my lord? By making new laws! But what about the old laws, my lord? Hmm, they are old and obsolete. How would thou save the new laws, my lord, from becoming obsolete? For that I need to form a committee! Recently, a Senate committee got together to discuss a fresh piece of legislation to help protect the religious minorities in Pakistan. After the killings of 1,456 Hazaras in Balochistan over a period of seven years and other minorities in Sindh, Punjab and Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa (K-P), the Senate committee on human rights did the honour of conducting meetings with the officials of the respective law enforcement agencies, representatives of political parties, the lawyers’ community, prisoners, and police officials. This is not the first time, or last for that matter, that a committee has prepared its recommendations for the protection of our minorities. It’s not that provisions of law to safeguard minorities do not exist already, but yes, this will be a fresh exercise. We need to understand that minorities can’t be protected by engaging in futile exercises repeatedly, for it leads to nowhere and we end up in the same blind alley. From the Objectives Resolution 1949 to the Constitution of Pakistan (1956, 1962 and 1973), religious minorities have been assured of protection and equal fundamental rights. Article 20, 21, 25, 26, 27 and 36 speak of the existence of these principles on paper. Moreover, Pakistan has made commitments under the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (UDHR, 1948) and the International Convention on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR, 1966) for safeguarding religious minorities. If, at all, playing the legislation is necessary, the Senate Committee should look into improving the existing legislation before going on an expedition for the new. For example, there is a sombre need to increase the number of reserved seats for religious minorities in the National Assembly. Similarly, amendments should be made to give representation to all the religious minorities including Ahmadis, Christians, Hindus, Sikhs, and Parsis etc. in the Parliament with seats allotted according to their population ratio. The government must consider the system of separate electorates in order to secure fair representation for the minorities. The National Action Plan (NAP) provides a much needed opportunity to revise the curriculum to make it hate speech free and it should be utilised effectively. Similarly, amendments should be made in Section 298B and 298C of the Pakistan Penal Code (PPC) to make it unbiased for dispensation of justice. If the honourable committee still feel that they want something more to do, it should consider proposing amendments to make Article 36, which is the ‘Protection of Minorities’, an integral part of our fundamental rights in order to free it from being subjected to the ‘availability of resources’, because the Constitution of Pakistan neither outlines what constitutes availability of resources nor does it provide a timeline for the implementation of the ‘Principles of Policy’ by the state. Furthermore, our civil and military leadership, shaken by the APS attack in Peshawar had vowed to take decisive action against militancy which resulted in the formation of the NAP. NAP also includes, besides other provisions, countering hate speech, ensuring against the re-emergence of proscribed organisations, effective steps against religious persecution, and dealing firmly with the sectarian terrorists. However, even after more than six months, there has been little progress on the effective implementation of NAP, except for the matters pertaining to military action or Zarb-e-Azb. So much so that even the Supreme Court of Pakistan has termed NAP a big joke, referring to government’s inaction. It is no secret that the patronage of extremist groups by different political and religious groups in Pakistan has contributed to the intolerance and acts of violence against the religious and sectarian minorities of Pakistan. The state has consistently failed to intervene and protect its people against violence by maliciously motivated elements and the certainty of impunity has encouraged them to commit lawlessness. The foremost thing to do, above making new legislations, is to implement the existing provisions of law in order to safeguard religious minorities. If a retired army general can be tried for allegedly violating the articles of the Constitution, then why can’t those who violate the articles of the Constitution pertaining to the protection of the minorities go unconstrained and enjoy the protection of different political players? The need is to set examples. If the existing laws are not implemented judiciously and miscreants are not punished sufficiently, making new legislations would add little value, like its predecessor legislations, to the protection of minorities. Instead it would sound like: From London to Dubai, To the National Assembly, We hold meetings; talk, discuss and analyse. Excellent rhetoric, lavish phrases, rich costumes, We paint perhaps the most exquisite pictures in the world. Portray scenes and situations; Dismal, hopeless and alarming. We twist our faces, Get agitated and excited, Rail and bewail, Blame everybody except ourselves, And then pounce upon the Long-awaited lavish tea, snacks, and sweets The meeting’s over— We shrug our shoulders, Shake off the unbearable burden; Twist the corners of our lips And bear the insinuating smile. We anticipate. Nothing can be altered. But why? Well, for that, we shall form a Committee.

The dysfunctional air-conditioner in my dorm TV lounge accentuated the Sharjah heat as I uncomfortably shifted on the leather couch, watching Roger Federer play Juan Martin Del Potro in the 2009 US Open final. It was past midnight and having to wake up early for a mandatory early class, I was in the mood for a quick resolution to the match in favour of the Swiss. Thankfully, Federer swooped through the first set 6-3 and went up a break in the second. The game was as breezy as the reclaimed air of regality that seemed to have permanently deserted him in the earlier part of the year. And in the process of exhibiting his ethereal brand of tennis, punctuated by swift sprints to retrieve hard hit backhands with deftly sliced backhands, precision serving, and sweetly-timed forehands, Federer was making his six feet, six inches opponent look increasingly mediocre. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="596"] PHOTO: AFP[/caption] This was going to be Federer’s sixth US Open triumph in as many years. It was the return of the king, who only four months earlier was being written off, having his kingdom effectively dismantled by Rafael Nadal. But with Nadal rendered virtually irrelevant through burnout, injury and consequent loss of form, Federer was once again in to the ascendency, capturing the Roland Garros and Wimbledon – the same tournaments where Nadal had given him heartburn the year before. Without Nadal’s nasty lefty spin, muscular defence, and indefatigable spirit, the players on the rest of the tour were guests in Federer’s funhouse. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="576"] PHOTO: AFP[/caption] And then it all fell apart. After the outcome had seemed like a foregone conclusion, the fissures appeared. Initially, it was Federer’s inability to secure an insurance break in the second set, which would have signalled me to dash to my room and curl up in my blanket, comforted by the knowledge that Federer would win. Then, with Federer serving for the set and being 30-15 up, Del Potro hammered a cross-court forehand pass. And then another. Suddenly, we had a match on our hands. Federer teased me again by coming within two points of winning the match in the fourth set, but he wasn’t to win his sixth US Open that year. Nor in any subsequent year despite often coming into the tournament in ominous form. Twice, it was Novak Djokovic who brought his run at Flushing Meadows to a halt. Both times, Federer held two match-points but was unable to detach Djokovic from serendipity. It’s almost irrelevant who knocked him out on other occasions, because repeat offenders are exceptionally rare on Federer’s Grand Slam charge sheet. More pertinently, it is largely Djokovic who has for the past few years prevented Federer from luxuriating at the summit of tennis. And it is Djokovic who has now defeated Federer in back-to-back Wimbledon finals. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] PHOTO: AFP[/caption] The answer for Federer is relatively simple – find a way past Djokovic and the rest should take care of itself. The good news for him is unlike the currently moribund Nadal, whose game functions are like an antidote to his, Djokovic poses a more agreeable challenge. As much is reflected in the 15-7 head-to-head lead for Djokovic since 2011 to-date – a period in which Novak has clearly been the world’s best player and in which Federer has been relatively hampered by age. In fact, since 2014 Djokovic only has a slight 6-5 edge. However, a closer look at those results shows that Federer has mainly beaten him on quick surfaces. Federer’s victories in Shanghai Masters, Dubai and last week in the Cincinnati Masters over the past 12 months have been engineered on some of the fastest hard courts on the ATP Tour, where the Swiss’s primary weapons – his serve and forehand – are most lethal. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="595"] PHOTO: AFP[/caption] Over the past year, fast courts have also aided Federer’s newly cultivated hyper-aggressive game plan, supplemented by kamikaze net-rushing, which take away time from Djokovic. Meanwhile, fast courts also blunt Djokovic’s outrageous defensive skills and tend to be low-bouncing, allowing Federer to optimise his slice backhand. Unfortunately for Federer, the authorities at Flushing Meadows have slowed down the US Open surface speed over time into a medium-paced court that has provided more leeway for the likes of Djokovic, Nadal and Andy Murray to ply their defensive skills. While Federer’s net-rushing was irksome for Djokovic in the Cincinatti final last week, the tactic is less likely to succeed in New York. The other reason a Federer victory seems unlikely is his prospect of winning a five-set match against Djokovic. The latter has a 5-2 edge in five-set clashes between the two since 2011. It’s far more feasible for Federer to subdue Djokovic over a decisive 30-minute period and stamp his authority on the match than to see him outlast the Serb in a see-sawing three hour battle. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="596"] PHOTO: AFP[/caption] Federer’s game is suited for a sharp, efficient, blitzkrieg in shock and awe style. Serve a couple of aces. Sneak into the net off a chip return and knock off a volley. Hit a short slice backhand and follow it up with a flick backhand passing shot. React to a blistering passing shot with a lunging stab volley winner that pierces through the opponent’s spirit. In essence, at his best he can play the game better than anyone else and demoralise his opponents. Djokovic admitted as much after their Wimbledon final this year when he said,

“He plays one, two game very quickly, chips and charges, just takes away the time, which Andy and I need. We are baseline players and we need a little bit more time. We are not as talented as Roger. Wins his service games in 30 seconds.”

You want to read about a vision of a just Karachi? The contract killer ($50 a hit) ripping up the road behind Disco Bakery on his Honda 200CC and the secret service colonel cracking skulls in a Clifton safe house will both cite one vision: Dubai. This happens to also be the vision of the one-armed Afghan refugee selling Beijing socks off a cart in Saddar bazaar and the unsexed Karachi Port Trust shipping agent waiting for shady clients to cough up cash so he can escape to Phuket. To borrow from an old Urdu election rallying cry, Chalo,chalo, Dubai, chalo (Come, come, let’s go to Dubai). Vision presupposes the ability to see what is in front of you, and based on the understanding this seeing yields, you can plan with some measure of wisdom to create what you do not want to see in the future. And so, it is noble to ask what could be a vision of a just Karachi — except that this is an unfair assignment given that this city completely confounds the senses. Just when you think you have some idea of what Karachi is, the landscape will chimerically shift. It is small wonder that the people who live here are forever trying to explain Karachi to themselves and to each other, to define it and even try to form some vision of what it should be. But the city is elusive. In our desperate attempts to exercise some control over this kind of existence, we tend to do two things in reaction, look outwards or backwards. Those who look outwards have fixated on Dubai, a long-time employment destination for the Pakistani labourer who idealises it as a city where the streets are paved with gold. Given that Dubai is a 90-minute flight away, the elite and upwardly mobile middle classes of Karachi exalt it as an escape from Karachi’s filth and madness. Dubai fits their vision of a shiny, clean, crime-free metropolis where you can exhaust yourself in air-conditioned malls with their Nine West stores, JC Pennys and Starbucks. Dubai assuages our near-Catholic sense of Islamic guilt of enjoying things too Western; not only is the city Arab but if it is kosher for the sheikhs to order hickory barbecue (chicken) bacon cheeseburgers at the Hard Rock Café, so can a Muslim from Karachi without going to hell in a breadbasket. Stories of Dubai’s real estate bust or the effects of its sterile soullessness and hidden human rights violations don’t figure much in conversations in Karachi. So, one vision of Karachi is to become a Dubai. Sadly, this is the vision of policymakers in Karachi and the powers that be in our federal capital of Islamabad, who hold the purse strings to our infrastructure development. You can see this vision manifest on our streets in the 44 pro-car and anti-pedestrian overpasses, the new malls, the gated communities. We look outwards when we want to envision Karachi. We would rather mimic instead of indigenously assessing what Karachi is and what its people — rich or poor — need. Those in Karachi, who do not worship Dubai as an urban model, look backwards. They are full of nostalgia for a postcolonial port city that had dance halls, cinemas, nightclubs, booze, cabarets, promenades, bars, even the British. Dizzie Gillespie came to Karachi in 1956. Custard was served at the Scottish Freemason Hope Lodge. The nostalgia is dated to the 1980s, however, when political violence started to erupt. But oh, before that you could walk around the old city parts of Saddar and not get murdered. Now you can’t even wear your diamonds beyond Sind Club (where a sign once said, “No women and dogs beyond this point”). The lament for this Kurrachee, as the British spelt it, and the yearning for it to return, conveniently ignores that it was, as Karachi historian Arif Hasan puts it,

“A culture of a colonial port city with a colonial administration under the Empire.”