Thursday, November 26, 2015

Excuse My French Connection Part II

"But, 'Sen' is three letters, right?",  I said.

"Nahin baba", he replied, "the French say, 'La Sehn'.

"But it's spelled S-E-I-N-E", he added, "And that's 5 letters - exactly what you are looking for."

The cross-word puzzle in the English Daily Arab News, was usually challenging but fun.

I mean, I could figure out what would be the 6 letter word to go with Anwar Al _____ across with clue saying "Camp David" and that would be 'Sadaat' and not fall in the trap and go with the name of the fancy local shop in downtown Jeddah named Anwar Al Junoob (Southern Lights).

Except for the French words, where I would be clueless.

A river in France - The clue read. 5 letters.

Stumped, and with no Google around back then, I could only think of one 5-letter word at that moment: "Daddy!"

So, when it came to French clues on the daily cross-word puzzles, Daddy, May God Rest his soul in peace, would be my source of knowledge.

My late Dad's name, Abdul Mannan Khan, is inscribed on the wall of his hometown high school for his top academic performance.

Despite all his brilliance, he found himself humbled when he started his graduate studies at a university in Paris where he discovered that the professor would not utter a single word in English. No other professor/lecturer would either.

The medium of instruction is French.

Needless to say, he learned French at nights, finished his Masters in Civil Engineering, summa cum laude, and returned home to become the Chief Engineer helping develop the city of Jeddah  - contributing to the soon to be announced Mayor's plan to turn the city into the next Paris of the Middle East - as well as building it's vast infrastructure for millions of pilgrim visitors a year by air or by sea.

He personified in his accomplishments, as a fine Civil Engineer, the essence of Paris, the City of Light.

Source of knowledge.

He mentored my uncle who went on to become a fine Civil Engineering Contracting businessman.

Many fine buildings had my Dad's architectural stamp on them.

He also taught me to be a draftsman.

"Why do we have that empty chamber in the middle of the building?", I once asked as we pored over a drawing.

"It's a munawwar", he replied, "To bring the natural light in."

Munawwar is the term architects use, in Arabic, for the natural light opening.

At a time when Arabs fancied expensive and expansive chandeliers and other artificial lights, my Dad subscribed to the notion of tapping into the abundant sunshine. Source of the natural light.

The City of Light?

He also studied steel structures - which invariably included the study of Eiffel Tower and the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco, for that matter (which he would visit in 2012 at the age of 87 and still managed to describe its full specs and design parameters like the back of his hands).

By the time my Dad reminisced about his days in Paris, the city of Jeddah probably had more lights installed on the Corniche along the Read Sea than the entire city of Paris.

But, that was not the point. The point was, and still is: Paris was and still remains, a beacon of hope, knowledge and innovation to the world.

That is what the nickname the City of Light stands for.

What Baghdad had in abundance in the way of knowledge back in the day, now belongs in Paris.

And Paris is not shy about sharing that Light with the rest of the world - much like Baghdad was the place to be back when Muslims ruled the world by virtue of their character and knowledge - and not the sword.

I know. I had promised I won't bring religion in this two part blog - but a passing reference to the torch bearers of that Light that was since passed on to Paris, became necessary to underscore this city's place in history.

Occasionally, he would let me wear his wrist watch that he brought back from France - and this was before the Japanese, the Taiwanese and the Chinese invasion of the Middle Eastern electronics bazaars.

His Swiss watch represented precision, an engineering marvel. And it personified his resolve to inculcate in us the importance of being on time.

When my Dad was finishing up his studies there, Paris was at the top and Jeddah was at the bottom, so to speak, both literally and metaphorically.  Here's a Pakistan International Airlines (PIA) advert from around that time.



Yes, PIA started "Flying to Paris"!  How excitingly the stewardess in the ad points to Paris, as if with prejudice.

But it is not prejudice.

It is a privilege that Paris earned.  The respect it commanded from lovers. Lovers of arts, sciences, culture, history and engineering.

And lovers, period.

The City of Love.

And PIA back then was also known for being dead on time. So much so that there was also an advert billboard that showed a gentleman synchronizing his wrist watch as the PIA plane took off in the background.

Flying to Paris was a privilege for an airline. It commanded precision and being on time.

Those core values were the hallmark of my father's generation no doubt.

My late Mom, visited Paris in the 80's with Dad. She came back from that, the most romantic, trip rejuvenated, boasting her French frequently with, "Merci beaucoup".

And why not? When Daddy took her out on the town in Paris, she must have been swept off her feet.

My Dad took her with him down the memory lane. Retracing his steps with his better half alongside, such as his commute on train, from the time when he was a student there.

Fascinating stuff - to my Mom - as she would describe the experience upon return.

To her, this was the second honeymoon. An Evening in Paris.

Except they spent many an evenings in Paris!

The Eiffel Tower, Champs Elysées, Notre Dame, Moulin Rouge!

And the Seine from my cross-word puzzle.  Oh my!

The word that took all of 5 letters across, must have presented a scenic picture to my beloved parents worth a thousand words.

Or perhaps worth a thousand and one Arabian nights.

Thé et lait  (Tea with cream) was music to her ears, she said, as she fondly described her fascination for the street-side cafes there. She was even more elated in re-living the passion Dad had for learning and the challenges he overcame to achieve it.

It is Thanksgiving, 2015 today.

For us, it is just another day.

Because, we are thankful 5 times a day, 365 days a year.

Peace and attitude of gratitude is the mantra we are supposed to have internalized.

But, have we?

Regardless, if my parents were alive today, how happy would I and my family be to have them with us?

Of course! Who wouldn't be?

But I wonder how horribly sad they would be to see their City of Love engulfed in so much hatred?

It would be a shame if they'd have to shed tears for the city they re-kindled their love in. Surely, after spending their lives crying over Kashmir, Dacca, Beirut, Baghdad, Karachi, Peshawar, Mumbai, etc.

That is why I mourn.

For my parents' very own Paris.

I learned from my parents that Paris deserved respect and love.  Not blame or hatred.

And in fact, our generation is crying over a growing list of new casualties.

New York, Washington, D.C., London, Boston and now Paris.

I reflect upon my responsibility.

In fact, our generation's responsibilities.

Where have we gone so horribly wrong to get to this low point of hatred and intolerance in the human history?

And that's why my heart sank when I saw the news alert text buzz on my iPhone.

Another engineering marvel, this device, with touch screen that was supposed to decipher the human touch.

But this engineering marvel ended up sucking every bit of that very same human touch out of our lives and has suckered us into the world of the social media.

Yet, it showed the precise time when the news broke - punctually and undeniably...

Like a robot, precise and on time.

Without emotions - it informed me of the horrific news of the shootings.

Precision.

And being on time. 

These were supposed to be welcomed.

Not today.

Please let it be a typo.  Another media frenzy of errors.

But, the precision on my smart phone heralded - with all of its bells-n-whistles and lights - the grizzly details of how the darkness had invaded...

...where once stood the city of light.

Click here for Part I



Monday, November 16, 2015

Excuse My French Connection: Part I

Let's talk about Beirut and Paris, shall we?  Then we will talk about Baghdad too if you still think we are not being fair enough.

And we will stay away from religion during this blog for two reasons:

Reason 1: Terror knows no religion.
Reason 2: Building and maintaining cities is more of a Civil/Social Engineering job than a religious awakening.

We will also stay away from talking about the innocent victims in Paris during this blog - since you don't want to hear about them unless the victims of Beirut, Baghdad, Gaza, West Bank, Kabul,Yemen, Burma, Kashmir, Karachi, Peshawar and Somalia, etc., are mentioned in the same breadth too.

So, let's stick to Beirut and Paris.  And let's keep it simple.

As many of you (or at least some of you) may recall, before the civil war destroyed Beirut, it was affectionately known as "the Paris of the Middle East".

And, it was an actual civil war (aka in-fighting) that turned this "Paris of the Arab world", the jewel of a city overlooking the Mediterranean Sea, into ruins - long before ISIS or even Israel came to try to finish it off.

See, the muslims in general (even the moderate ones), and Arabs in particular, have this fascination for all things Western. Including "the Western media."

If you disagree with this statement, wake up and smell the hummus. And while you are at it, try this: Burn your US or UK passport, pick up the passport of the country of your origin and try to get a visa for all of the countries belonging to those flags that you want all of the Facebookers to use for their DPs just because you want a fair deal.  See which one of those countries would welcome you with open arms and not kidnap you for ransom or relegate you to second class citizens.

While Israel was thinking of strolling into Beirut in 1980 long after that city had been turned into ruins, the Mayor of the Makkah region announced the plans to turn Jeddah, Saudi Arabia, into Paris.

I was in school in Jeddah at that time. And, I gotta tell you, I, along with thousands of expats living in Jeddah, laughed at this notion since there was garbage all around in the streets wherever we went.  I couldn't imagine the city of my childhood would turn into the City of Light any time soon.

My point is this: The whole world, including the Arab world, loved Paris  - young rich Arab lads would sing "Fly there, with Swiss Air" - and would love to build cities on that template.

Would you imagine seeing Paris turn into "the Beirut of Europe?"

What next once Paris is in the ruins?

Where does this cycle end?

That is why, my dear reader, we are shocked to hear of the destruction coming to the streets of Paris. And that is why we want to draw the line right here.  We will not let them destroy the city that serves as the model for cities around the world.

And, just because Beirut has been burning since the early 1970's, effectively desensitizing us (if I could get a nickel for every time we heard about a car bomb going off in Beirut, I would be the richest man on the face of the Earth), doesn't necessarily mean Paris has to burn too.

Now, please excuse my French when I say: ISIS can go blow themselves up some place else.

Click here for Part II


Saturday, November 14, 2015

Hatred has no place in the City of Love

A day after "Jihadi John" was wiped from the face of the Earth by a surgical drone strike, ISIS thought it can eliminate humanity by strapping a few suicide vests and smuggle some AK-47's and change the world to their desires.

We have already established that ISIS's perverted interpretation of Islam couldn't be farther from it. In fact theirs is the most mutilated version that could not fit ANY religion on the face of the Earth.

It is no longer a question whether ISIS has any legitimacy in the realm of Islam. Just like there is no question terror has no religion.

We are at a point where it is safe to say that ISIS is not part of the human race, let alone any religion.

ISIS is Iblis (Satan).  And Satan is not human. Period.

The figurative portrayal that ISIS think they are manifesting of is anything but that of the teachings of the Prophet Muhammad (PBUH).The Prophet taught us to spread peace (salam) to people we know and to people we don't know.

It is time to stand united with the Parisians.  Reject the hatred and terror.

Paris, will remain the city of love.  The city of light.

The dark, cowardice, hatred and terror on the other hand have no place in Paris.

No place on the face of the Earth.

Copyright Jean Julians







Thursday, November 12, 2015

A moon-lit night sans the moon

Someone once found it intriguing that I knew what the moon will be like on a given night. It is just that I try to keep track of what the moon stage would be upon the night fall whenever I reminisce. Rest assured, I wasn't being a lunatic.

Only she knew why I would seek out the moon at nights.  Just like I did the other night.

The night she left me.

But, I wasn't seeking the moon solely because it carried romantic vibes. I did it because I'd rarely seen a brighter night. And, I figured there had to be moon somewhere in the sky that had illuminated the sky so bright.

Little did I know that it was her.

I wouldn't call her a romantic type to be mentioned in a blog about the moon.  She spent most of her life without the life partner.  But boy she could brighten up people's life true to her name.

Qammar was her name.  Which means the moon.  In Arabic.  And in Urdu too.

Her nickname was Chanda. Which affectionately meant the moon. You get the drift.

And, I was over the moon when I was invited to hop on to the car to share the ride alongside her.

Soon after thanking the gentleman who let me on board with her, I broke the ice and started whispering to her.

My whispers turned into sobs as I told her that this 45 minutes ride shall be our final journey together.

The two Multani siblings united one last time.

A year later, I was back in Markham, Ontario.

Seeking a re-union.

So, naturally, I was in a hurry to visit her. More so because the crisp early autumn daylight was fading rapidly on the Canadian horizon.

It was the seventh day of the lunar month.  I knew it, of course.

I was keeping track of what the moon will be like that night.

What I witnessed moved me yet again.

The waxing moon was shining brighter than usual right above where she rested.

Whispering.

Flash back to a year ago. To that final journey with her on that brightly lit night.

In the hearse.

I had asked the undertaker if he could see the moon in the sky.

He hadn't answered. How could he state the obvious?

It wasn't the moon that was illuminating the sky.  It was the noble, tranquil soul of my late sister, Chanda bajia, that was being welcomed in the heavens that night.

"Houston, this is Tranquility".  The voice over the radio would crackle as it travelled across the vast space, more than two hundred thousand miles.

Tranquility. That was the Apollo 11 mission's radio handle when it called Houston on the Earth. From the moon.

And the Earth was oh so brightly lit, the moon was still 200 thousand miles away from Houston.

But a mere whispering distance from Markham it seemed. I didn't have to look far for it. Just above her grave, the moon had risen up even before the sun had completely set - eager, just as I was, for the re-union with her namesake.

No need for the radio.

Just a quiet word, a whisper really, would reach her.

Just like Chanda right next to bajia.

And, tranquility was all I saw being showered in abundance on her.


Wednesday, June 10, 2015

The Young Faithful Heart

"But the noblest thing which perished there
Was that young faithful heart."

On May 6, 2014, just nine days before her birthday, I buried my beloved sister who had succumbed to cancer.

There was another funeral, that of a 13 year old young boy, who was also buried just yards away. Both funerals' pallbearers joined to pay their respects and said their prayers over both the departing souls.

The memory of my sister, "bajia" as we called her, flooded back. She was studying A-Level, and I... well I was just trying to finish my homework on the poem "Casablanca" so I could go and play - besides, I was not sure why the boy on the burning deck couldn't just bail out too.

My gallant sister taught me, there and then, the virtues of that 13 year old boy on the burning deck.

Couple of weeks ago, I saw bajia stand "on the burning deck / Whence all but she had fled".  She was the Casablanca personified. She looked the cancer in the eye and fought til her last breath - all by herself.  To me, she was in the company worthy of that 13 year old boy - died more than a century ago... but buried a mere yards away.

Happy Birthday Bajia... May 15, 2014.

Thursday, May 22, 2014

The Best Friends

She introduced me to my two best friends.

At least, she hoped I would consider them as my best friends.

The first of these two landed me in a bit of a pickle…

But then, after the initial bump in the road, I have savored that best friend to this day.

What landed me in trouble was mostly the fault of my own.

The punishment I got was par for the course.

Especially when the course was nothing but the laziness I showed in completing a task assigned to me.

And it was a simple task too:

Write an essay!

These days, it could be chalked up to a condition commonly known as the writer’s block.

But I am not a writer.

Not yet, and certainly wasn't back then.

But, the way she set about helping me seemed to suggest she considered me one.

And she certainly thought I was suffering from such an acute symptom.

Anyways, when I showed that rather chronic symptom of the worst kind of laziness, and her repeated attempts to stimulate my mind out of that slumber fell on deaf ears, she wrote the essay for me.

Problem solved!

Wait just a minute, you might ask…

What about that first best friend? 

And, what happened to the jar of pickle that I had landed in? 

Was that friend worth it?

Allow me to explain...

Getting summoned to the principal’s office was no small jar of pickle.

He was not only the principal of the school, but he also doubled up as our 7th grade English teacher.

It certainly loomed large on my slender self back then as the mother of all pickles.

And I knew I was in it the moment I saw my brightly colored notebook held by the peon close to his chest as he walked into the 7th grade class room.

I was summoned. 

It was no surprise to me then just as it was no surprise to me, in more recent times, when I ran into that best friend again at her place.

But let's not get ahead of ourselves. More on that encounter later.

Another place I was scared to be in, just as much as the principal’s office, was when I was locked up in a room with my second best-friend-to-be, 14 years later as part of a little ice-breaking game at our Nikah ceremony.

Although, another one of the VIP ladies in my life was the real culprit behind that setup, I owe it to the lady I began this blog with for instilling in me a better appreciation for my wife.

And she would remind me of my responsibilities in her typical, affectionate way ever since - citing two years she spent as a room-mate with my future wife during her high school years.

She convinced me that the true companion of my solitude has been right there all along in the love and care that I enjoyed from my better half, my second best friend.

But, I had learned the meaning of the word solitude the hard way.

Flash back to the 7th grade and the principal’s office.

He demanded that I give him the meaning of this word.

Solitude.

He set that condition as my only way out of the jam (or the pickle if you will) that I was in.

Mind you, the medium of instructions at my school was Urdu. So, the word solitude was not exactly a walk in the park.

This word was used in the essay I submitted. I was supposed to have written that essay myself. The sentence was, “… gives me company and comforts me in my solitude.”

That sentence has been burnt into my memory ever since. As if I had written it myself.

If only I could convince him of that!

The lady who was responsible for making me realize my role as a husband and a father was also responsible for introducing me to my first love, back when I was in the 7th grade.

The topic of the essay assigned to the class was “My Best Friend.”

And I, or rather she, had begun that essay with, “My book is my best friend…”

“A good book gives me company and comforts me in my solitude”, She went on to write.

So, who was that lady responsible for trying to introduce me to my two best friends?

She was my late sister, Qammar Jabeen Khan.

She succumbed to cancer on May 6, 2014.

We pray to God that He Enters her in the highest echelons of the Paradise. Ameen.

One of the last things she bought, just days before she died, was a couple of knitting/crochet magazines. And, she had started reading the magazines right there in the car on our ride home.

Books have always been her best friends…

And she certainly tried to instill that love for books in me very early.

Whether I have truly accepted book as my best friend is another matter. But you walk into the study at her home and you see the whole wall decked with bookshelves: With books neatly arranged and categorized.

Then you walk down to the basement and there is another library full of books of all kinds.

There again, in her home, I ran into that best friend that she taught me long ago to befriend.

Had I done so, I could certainly find comfort in that friend in my solitude.

Like she did as she raised her five kids all by her lonesome.

Lonesome?

Solitude?

Or was she surrounded by her best friends?

Wednesday, April 17, 2013

The Bostonians In Distress? Never, In the Face of Terror!

The brave Bostonians have shown that they can not be unnerved by the cowardly act of terrorism.

Bostonians
Overcome
Scare &
Terror
Of a
Nightmare marathon.

We pray for the victims and resolve to find the cowards who did this.