sidewalk scribbling

March 7 I can remember the hysteria I tried to suppress inside my chest, like an overstuffed suitcase you have to get your friend to sit on so you can zip it shut, or a sandwich that threatens to spill out all its contents. It’s never easy to pack up and leave for a new beginning, especially if you can’t bring some of your favorite things (fiancé, best friends, monsoon rain fragrances) along for the extended trip. But despite the bouts of loneliness and the sneaky panic that would shoot up throughout my body at random moments in the first few weeks in St Louis, I think I was pretty determined to make the most of it. I always have a special place in my heart for cities. Like an earnest young professional, I have the highest expectations from a new place. I do my research, start specialized bucket lists and slowly and determinedly, fall in love with the quirks that make each city unique. I like St Louis because it doesn’t put on many pretenses. It has its problems – ra...

April 9 From generating electricity by playing soccer to creating a farm in a school to collect rainwater and increase agriculture productivity, from solar-powered lanterns in Kashmir to using better architecture to improve health outcomes in Bolivia – the Clinton Global Initiative-University (CGI-U) is one of the most inspiring and wide network of young, passionate people. Look at cgiu.org to find out more about the cool projects going on all over the world, designed and led by individuals as young as college freshmen! When I filled out the extremely long volunteer application, I didn’t think too much about how awesome the event was going to be. And my pleasure at being part of the photo/video committee was short-lived because right after that I saw I was signed up for 8 hours on Friday and 12 hours on Saturday. Like come on, I’m a grad student. I have 15-page papers to write about important social issues with minimum solvability and practicum and laundry! And prospects ...

March 8 I don’t know exactly when or how it happened. I can’t look back at a certain day or even remember what year it was. But somewhere, somehow, all the clocks of the world were wound up to run faster than before. The gods nudged the universe a little too hard, spurring the solar systems into overdrive. The sun rises faster and the stars spin into the light quicker, and so, time cartwheels away, always a few steps ahead of us. I can distinctly remember the years when time would trudge slower than an old lady pushing a walker. The memory that always comes to mind is those months of summer holidays when it would be so hot we’d feel like our body was melting away (in Karachi) and the flowers would wilt and char under the relentless manic sun (in Lahore and Islamabad). I can hear the hum of the air conditioner, and I can remember the arguments over whether the ceiling fan helps in cooling the room faster or hampers the process. I can feel the lethargy that weighs down our bod...

February 22 I admit, my preferences for weather have changed since I came to the US. If I wake up to an overcast sky and the sound of slow rain, my face doesn’t light up with a terrifyingly big smile. I do not feel the need to throw open my window (which in my case would require me using a brick to break the glass cause the window in my room isn’t really a window) and lift my face to the light cool breeze. The reaction is more whiny here. A melodramatic groaning and turning over in bed. My heart complains and my body cringes in the anticipation of the cold wetness that will envelop me as soon as I step out of the house. One of the reasons I don’t like rain here is obvious: human nature is designed to appreciate rarities. A gray sky hanging low with clouds and cold rain felt good in a warm, humid city like Karachi or in the burning heat of Lahore because it would be a welcome, seldom break. Another reason of course was that I did not have to walk around everywhere and travel ...

February 11 You would think graduate school is a real eye-opener and one would go in and learn a ton of new concepts, find out how people think and work; that it would be a real asset in the real world and help us professionally. You would think. Sometimes I feel like the social work school has done the opposite of opening my eyes. Don’t get me wrong; I was overjoyed in my first semester as I sat in classes where real people talked about things others scoff at. Professors and students all care about changing the world, making a difference, fighting for justice, believing wholeheartedly in spending their lives in a field that is low paying, high stress. Most of the time we speak the same language – so much so that we forget that the world outside isn’t quite on the same page. Most of them are not even in the same book. It always amuses me when social work students get worked up about something (usually) benign another social work student said. Some of us justice-fighter...

February 6 There are some battles I have been fighting for several years now, and I think the only pat on the back I can give myself in this regard is that I am still fighting. Thank goodness for social work school and the art of reframing they have us practice in class – otherwise I would say I have a stack of failures piled in a corner. But as it is, I can be proud of being persistent, of recognizing what I still need to do and being mission driven – despite years of milling about the starting line of several goals. I guess one of the problems with these goals is that they do happen to be lifestyle changes. I have heard or read somewhere that it takes just two weeks to develop a new habit. Isn’t that lovely? The flip side – it takes just two weeks of not doing something to unlearn that pleasant habit. One-time goals are easier, right. An aspect of my self-diagnosed mild OCD is making goals out of everything: doing laundry, mailing the rent check, dyeing my hair. This me...

January 21 Smoking regulations are lax in Pakistan. Tahira baji would perch on a stool behind the reception counter and puff away at her Marlboro light. She is short, dark, and mostly has her hair straightened and streaked with light brown. She is usually in good shape and attributes her healthy weight to green tea. In recent years she has started wearing a dupatta over her head every now and then. The Bollywood music had also gradually been replaced by regular TV dramas. During Ramadan and other auspicious religious days she would put on the Arabic channel. Parlors are great places for gossip. It seems like facials, haircuts and dyes are stimuli to reveal neighborhood secrets and share family regrets. As soon as the black gown is thrown around you and Pinky gently tips your head down to cut off the split ends – “I can’t believe my son married her. She refuses to even walk near the kitchen let alone enter it! I seriously doubt if she even knows how to make tea.” Or you lea...