Iqra's Reflections

Lessons are not learnt in a class room. Nor do they stop coming when we graduate or post-graduate. This world is an institution, more or less. And we come across people who teach us great lessons. Some experiences have altered my view of perfection, heroism, beauty and leadership. I have met some, to whom I didn’t even talk. I don’t know who they were, where did they come from and what were their circumstances but I call them my acquaintances, and they are among my heroes. I want to write about them today: It was a beautiful evening in San Francisco. The fancy Yacht was swarming with people, all dressed up. Tables were full of a variety food and desserts. I could hardly try a few of them, they were so many. It was so beautiful. Finally, like everything else in this world, that party came to an end. The Crew bid us all a warm farewell. Everyone was happy. When I got off, and was walking to the exit, a guy coming from a distance caught my attention and I wondered ...

We often celebrate our heroes. But those behind the making of these heroes remain unsung. I decided to interview my grandmothers. They have played an important role in my father’s life and then in mine. I keep on learning from them and want to share it as far as it can go.  Sharing a little bit of the background is important. Dad’s own mother passed away before he started walking. His aunts( Khalas ) took care of him. Most important role was of the one I interviewed here. She was the one whom he was with, all the time. Even in the school hours. He went to school with her, she was the headmistress of the school at the time.  From formal to informal; I have learned from her in every field of life. From PT shows and speech competitions in the school to cooking in the kitchen. The first ever dish I made was in her supervision and the first roti I made was for daadi. She’s also the mother of Pakistani Cricket Team Captain, Misbah ul Haq. And has often been interv...

The sky was different today. There was life, emotions and passion. It seemed to be celebrating the return of a beloved. "How similar we are oh sky" thought Fatima. For her happiness had no measure. Her husband was getting back. He would reach any hour of the night. Abu Hamde who had been a captive in the prison of Israel for six months. He worked as chef to make ends meet. Impatiently had he waited for this day. The day he will be going back to his lovely wife who had shared the news of him becoming father of a boy she had named hamza. He couldn't wait to see his son. To take him in his arms. To tell him the stories of brave Palestinian souls who had stood for the rights of the country, to tell him how much had he had wanted to see him, to tell him about the responsibility that lies on his fragile shoulders to get his country rid of the bloodshed and the massacre that was going on. Once upon a time his mother had told him the same. Her wrinkled eyes had seen many o...

Trying not to think of the imminent departure that was drawing near every moment, I was enjoying food on a fancy cruise ship, sailing in the seemingly endless and calm waters of San Francisco. While the other Emerging Leaders of Pakistan (ELP) Fellows were rocking the colourful dance floor, I thought to try the dessert. As soon as I ingested that first overflowing spoonful of dessert, I could clearly feel the fire. It was spicy cheese, not a dessert, that I had just taken  in. I chased it with water to feel better but that unpleasant feeling stayed for a while, as a reminder: "Taste, before you swallow a spoonful of it." There were many such instances throughout the ELP visit to the United States. Things turned out to be otherwise than what I had thought them to be. Until and unless we taste it, we don't know the reality. Right from the first moment I stepped on American soil, I saw good behaviour. I was immensely impressed and inspired. Politeness and gratitude wer...