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astaga.com lifestyle on the net: Astaga.com lifestyle on the net was here to say Hello....!
Arooj: The randomness ws beautifully etchd (: i lovd 15. Lol. I hate buyng shoes too, although, fr a diff reason :p
Rooj: Update ur damn blog man. I realize u hav insane looong shifts, bt realy!
Rang-e-Hayat: Kahan ghayab ho yaar??? Didn't see you 4 soooooooo long!
Rang-e-Hayat: Yeah, I'm in Pakistan. Just saw ur msg. Tried to msg u long time ago but U know nets, lights, and computers here. Anyways. How've u been dude? I'll probably get in touch with U guys as soon as I go back to US , which is pretty soon inshallah.
rooj: tagging you!! :D

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Sunday, December 6th 2009

8:05 AM (66 days, 0h, 56min ago)

Racism - them or us?

             In Pakistan I'd see my grandma classify people as "kalaay"(black) and "goray"(white) when watching TV. For all my flaws, this was one that I didn't have and it disturbed me to the point of agitation. Who had the right to classify people based on their skin color with a certain degree of superiority or inferiority in their eyes? Why did we have first impressions based on skin color and race?

             It did not stop here. She'd call Christians "chooray" ( gutter people ) and Hindus (Thooris). If she had some inhibitions discussing race and equality, she absolutely had none discussing religion. It was as if she deemed Muslims were born superior. My grandmother was illiterate, but even my mother sometimes would have issues dining with "Non-Muslims". However, just to drive home the point that I found this utterly disgraceful and against the principles of Islaml, I'd invite my Non-Muslim Christian and Hindu friends over. I'd make sure they drank in the same glasses and utensils as I did. I'd have bitter arguments with my mom over what Islam meant while she fussed about what to do with the "Napaak" (unclean) utensils. Eventually, my mom conceded she was wrong. She was one of the few people who had an open mind and the willingness to change. Soon enough, she'd be happy to host my friends and made sure they were comfortable.

        Then, there was the issue of castes. People in the Sub-Continent have a strong sense of family. It is perhaps one of the reasons why cousin marriages are so rife in our culture. They believe in the bond of "bradaree" (caste). Marriages outside the caste are frowned upon. Even in my family, which is extraordinarily literate by Pakistani standards, caste marriages are the norm. My grandfather had  a rage of fit when he learnt that one of our distant relatives married their daughter into another caste. Once again, I went to battle with my family. I asked them to tell me one Islamic reason why that wasn't allowed. They shrugged there shoulders and said it is our "culture". Marrying into the same caste brings "ease' and "harmony". This pissed me off the most. How can we bring in religion for some aspects of life and drop it in the name of culture in others? For this reason, there is a sub-conscious desire in my head to make sure I marry outside my caste to reinforce that I don't believe in this culture of division and racism.

      Before coming to the US, friends and family would joke about "Gorees" (White Girls). A week ago I was in New York, and my friends from medical school started stereo-typing blacks and whites. They would give examples of how African Americans were much more involved in crimes and lawlessness. They would marvel at how the " gorees" (white) were so beautiful and tall. I was baffled at how we as a nation had fell to the "one sided story". I put down my head in shame wondering if the best educated in this nation had in-built stereo-types then what did we expect from the illiterate. 

         And then we write these long articles saying how the West is stereotyping against Islam. Yet here my friend prayed on a beach in New York without anybody stopping him. You tell me who is racist? Them or Us?  
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Sunday, October 4th 2009

11:38 AM (128 days, 22h, 23min ago)

Medicine - The Caffeine

                   Being a doctor sucks. We have sleepless nights because of the crazy calls and then we have the sleepless nights because of the failures that always come to haunt us. No matter how many things we get right, we do get a few wrong. And these wrongs always stick and we play over the events & wish we could have done something day in and day out. 
                 So what is it about this profession, that Atul Gawande so aptly called an imperfect science? Why is it so addictive? Why inspite of the gruelling demands of the professioon people still jump in?
                I realized during my house job that even though we were imperfect and had limitations, people still respected us. All they really wanted from us was the fact that we give them an avenue to understand what was happening to them and their loved ones. 
               I've had patients thank me for just listening and telling them what I thought of their patient's prognosis, people who had been in hospitals many times yet no one had told them the prognosis. All I did was take them to a room and just to the best of my abilities tell them what I knew.  Even when I gave bad news, they understood. I've had people give me prayers and appreciate the efforts I was making and motivate me when I felt down. I've had my share of failures and mistakes and very bad moments with patients. Times when I felt it was just useless and thankless to be a doctor. But then moments of appreciation come. 
             I once had a guy walk up to me and take me aside after his father's death and ask me how I thought the funeral should be held. The guy said that he didn't have a brother to discuss this issue with. I was moved that I was brought to a level that I could walk in with him into his personal life and help him decide such an important issue.  
             The small gestures of appreciation and thank yous' is what keeps doctors hooked. And even with the disastrous failures that haunt us,  the faces of the patients we couldn't save and should have saved, the sleepless nights on duty and off duty,  the moving on day after day- death after death, all the negatives, yet that one time you save someone or just bond with a patient is what we strive for. And that one moment of pure happiness is what still makes me wonder if I can leave clinical medicine. And I know even if I do leave medicine for epidemiology, I'll still have cravings of the caffeine of clinical medicine.
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Sunday, August 30th 2009

9:45 AM (164 days, 0h, 16min ago)

Fulbright, Harvard and the Sky!!!!!!!!

                              Sitting at Peabody, overlooking the Charles, on a windy windy Boston night, reminiscing of the journey, is a feeling that is beyond description. Seeing people walk by oblivious of how they will affect the lives of millions and millions of people is fascinating. These people don't seem to be different from anybody else. They seem as full of life and joy as many other college and university students. They are not the ultra-nerds or super-bookworms avatar that the words Harvard and Fulbright seem to project. So what sets these people apart. 

                             One thing I've noticed talking to people during my Fulbright and Harvard journey is that these people have a vision and an ambition. They range from the young and inexperienced to the total authority in their fields. Hell, some are even professors. Yet we sit together boasting of the same title and degree. We are Fulbrighters and we got into Harvard.

                          We bleed when we are hurt. We are frustrated when we lose.  And we have our share of falls. Yet what sets us apart is the ability to know we have to get things done no matter what the cost. There is no giving up. If one path doesn't lead to a goal, we just try a different path.We are bold. We think out of the box. 

                        Fulbright and Harvard didn't look for 4.0 GPA's, though there are quite a few of them. They looked for leaders. They looked for energy. They looked for people who could further a cause.

                        My message is there are no limits. There are no ceilings. There are no boundaries. You fly as high as you aim to fly. Don't be discouraged by your failures. Learn to overcome them. Admit that you are human and you will falter sometimes. But never let those low moments deter you from your dreams. Everybody is unique. Everybody deserves Fulbright and Harvard. It's just a matter of sitting down and trying to find out what makes you tick. Which moment in your life changed you? What do you want to work on?

                       So what makes you special? I wish and pray each one of you realizes your potential and wish you Godspeed in your ambitions. 
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Saturday, July 18th 2009

4:32 PM (206 days, 17h, 29min ago)

Indonesia from my eyes!!!

1- Indonesia is the most populous Muslim Country in the world (237 million people approximately) and is made up of over 17,000 islands.

2- Jakarta is on the island Java and is a megacity that has been broadly divided into Central Jakarta, North Jakarta, South Jakarta, West Jakarta and East Jakarta. I stayed in South Jakarta or Jakarta Selatan (Selatan meaning South).

3- It has a tropical climate. There are basically two seasons ; wet and dry. 

4- It is a very colourful city. Everything is painted brightly, from houses to cars.

5- It has a major problem of traffic. People generally prefer motorbikes. As soon as the signal goes green there is this maddening race, that seems right out of some need for speed type of movie.

6- Yes, there are rickshaws!!!!

7- Public transport consists of vans and buses. Buses are of broadly two types, express or transjakarta and the normal one. Transjakarta runs on this special lane reserved for it. It stops at limited number of places and its stop is smack in the middle of the road. They have literally hanging bus stations which you cross by an overhead bridge. No other form of transport is allowed in the lane reserved for Transjakarta. Taxis are available and they charge you by the meter. 

8- Did I mention Jakarta is a MAJOR traffic disaster. I guess I did, but this point needs to repeated Generally, the traffic is better during the weekends, since people coming from places near jakarta go home for the holidays.

9- They city has some of the most amazing skyscrappers. Has huge huge malls and practically all the fast food you can imagine, they HAVE IT.

10- Trains also run through the city and sometimes over it. If you hear the ting ting sound, it means you have to stop and wait for the train to pass.

11- Fruit trees are everywhere you look. We have a mango tree in our yard.

12- Footpaths are practically non-existent. Big time trouble for pedestrians.

13- They have Nallahs on the sides of the roads and streets, so if you don't watch out you can fall into one and well end up a stinking freak.

14- There is this bizarre bizarre custom that they wear jackets while on motorbikes. So while you are sweating and cursing the humdity, these people are wearing jackets. Have no idea how they can tolerate that.

15- Indonesians are genearlly short people. I'm have to try hard to find people over 5 feet five inches

16- You find girls in shorts and skirts & in pants. Generally, there is no real concept of purdah. 

17- Girls motorbike too

18- Ladies run shops and markets.

19- You find a seat in the bus and if it is empty you sit, whether there is a lady or a guy. Sometimes seems odd when you think what would happen in Pakistan if you did that :0

20- Generally, Indonesians only pray the Farz during prayers. They have this custom of shaking hands with people around them after the salam. It is nice. This custom is found in the Arabs as well.

21- The people keep to themselves. If it's none of their business, it's none of their business. They don't come and stare at foriegners or anything. On the bad side, that means it is harder learning about them because they talk so little. Plus barely anybody understands english. 

22-  The currency is Rupiah. One dollar is approximately equal to 10,000 Rupiah. So basically everything is for thousands. Very hard calculations

23- They also have the trend of foodstalls and they have stalls having stuff from fried chicken to pakooras on them. Also add to the traffic problem.

24- Indonesians love noodles.

25- Lots and lots of mosquitoes and sewer rats....ewww.


Enough for one day of blogging. Next post will be of pictures of the city, InshaAllah.
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