by blogadmin | Apr 9, 2020 | Blog Post, Media Publishing's, Year 2020
Donald Trump is a windbag, size XXL, whose air has started to leak now. If you haven’t experienced the self-congratulatory gusts that power his Orwellian disinformation machine generating untruths, false hopes and unprecedented blame-shifting, then how about this epitomic Trump response to a reporter asking how hospitals could prepare for COVID-19 patients:
“I like this stuff. I really get it. People are surprised that I understand it. Every one of these doctors said, ‘How do you know so much about this?’ Maybe I have a natural ability. Maybe I should have done that instead of running for president.”
The comment aptly reflects our 45th president’s relentless self-aggrandising personality that won’t allow him to take responsibility for anything negative or controversial. So why is the windbag leaking now?
Because in America today the cases of the virus are sprinting towards the 350,000 mark with more than 9,500 deaths, for now. Finally, irrefutable facts have made it difficult, though not impossible, for the president to continue to make silly comments from his powerful pulpit. Trump, who only recently declared that the pandemic was milder than the common flu, now has to admit, “It’s not the flu. It’s vicious.”
But his refusal for weeks to acknowledge this fact, coupled with his inability to understand the need for adequate federal preparation, left us ill-equipped to deal with this crisis quickly and effectively. It is the viciousness of the pandemic’s attack on the US economy that has pushed the president into moments of reality because it threatens the one claim he was counting on to fuel his reelection.
The recent historic fall in stocks and the record-breaking rise in unemployment numbers have demonstrated that Trump — who continually lauded himself as a great businessman and energiser of the economy — really has little or no influence when an “invisible enemy” strikes.
The best thing he can do is to stay out of the way and allow his medical experts to handle the Covid-19 response and let Congress and the appropriate federal agencies take care of the economic crisis. Most governors have risen to their responsibilities of leadership despite slow, often inept and confusing support from the White House. Still, Trump looks for others to blame for our predicament, even the medical professionals themselves whom he has accused of “hoarding” supplies and making unreasonable demands when they run out of personal protective equipment.
The country is fighting this battle on multiple fronts and has learned to do so for the most part without a general. For a man whose main interests appear to be self-promotion and maintaining an image of infallibility and necessity, it must be painful for him to encounter his own irrelevance.
But will he learn anything from this crisis?
Probably not, but who knows, perhaps he will learn that when it comes to viral outbreaks, it is unwise to make the kind of proclamation he issued on January 30th, when the World Health Organisation (WHO) declared the coronavirus, “a public health emergency of international concern.” Trump’s response:
“We think we have it very well under control. We have very little problem in this country at this moment—five. And those people are all recuperating successfully.”
Or this one he gave us in February:
“Looks like by April, you know, in theory, when it gets a little warmer, it miraculously goes away.”
Well, April is here and the country still stands at the edge of an abyss with a president still searching for a scapegoat.
When Trump unexpectedly won the Republican Party nomination for the 2016 presidential election I had asked myself, “Where is America going?” When he won against Hillary Clinton, my question was, “What will we do under this self-loving maniac if, God forbid, America faces a major crisis?”
I have my answer now, and fortunately for us, it doesn’t involve Trump. It is ordinary Americans who are doing extraordinary things with humbleness in their hearts and a prayer on their lips. Though alone, Americans are not apart. The Hope Dining Room in my city Newark, Delaware, is closed but the volunteers are collaborating online to find the ways and means to keep supplying lunches and dinners to the homeless and those who do not have access to food. School bus drivers are now delivering food to kids even though schools are closed.
Grocery stores are taking online orders and either dropping them outside the doors of the customers or keeping them ready for the customer pick-up in such a way that there is minimal interaction if any. Most importantly, healthcare workers, like those in other parts of the world, are risking their lives to do all they can to treat patients during these unprecedented circumstances.
My daughter is a sophomore at Bucknell University in Pennsylvania. When she had to evacuate as part of college closings across the country, she came home with a friend, an international student from Islamabad staying with us until travel is possible again. My most recent exit from home after many days was to get halal chicken and goat for her because the home deliveries we tried didn’t work out. I confess, however, that I am not doing it for nothing. She is helping me fulfill my longstanding aspiration of learning Urdu. She has turned out to be an excellent teacher adept at communicating with her 50-year old student. Like me, millions of Americans are finding ways to use their unexpected self-isolation to explore new and old interests in an effort to find a silver lining in this dark cloud.
This is a time when the world must come together to fight a common foe that knows no physical borders or class boundaries. But, unfortunately, Trump has predictably looked at the crisis through a lens of political self-perpetuation. He has once again revealed himself as a leader devoid of the skills and empathy needed to ease the pain and suffering of individuals and families in America and across the world.
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This column was published online by the https://blogs.tribune.com.pk/ on April 06, 2020.
by blogadmin | Apr 9, 2020 | Blog Post, Media Publishing's, Year 2020
What are millions of people sitting at home doing with each day that brings the news of lockdowns, curfews, quarantines, and deaths around the world from the coronavirus? In the pre-virus days, individuals and families planned their weekends, especially holidays, and how to maximise their days off and coordinate children’s school schedules. The coronavirus has put an end to such concerns for most Americans. The first few days at home for many may not have been a challenge, but what effect will confinement, without an end in sight, have on the homebound? What will they do?
I, for one, will tell you what I am doing. I am ‘Urduising’ this furlough. Separated by centuries, the Urdu language and I were both born in India. But that isn’t the reason why I love it. It may seem strange, but I never learned to read, write or speak the language, although I can understand it somewhat. Why love it then?
Gulzar saheb, whose Jai Ho song won an Oscar, in an Urdu poem about the language a few years ago, said, ‘You get a high speaking Urdu,’ and ‘you taste a delectable pleasure when Urdu touches the throat, as if a sip of a fine drink seeped past it.’
My daughter is an undergraduate student at a university in Pennsylvania. Like schools across the US, all students were asked to vacate the campus and were informed that the remaining classes would be held online.
So, when we went to bring our daughter home, we took on an extra passenger. My daughter’s Pakistani friend had stayed with us during last year’s spring break. Given the global reach of the coronavirus, we were able to convince her parents in Islamabad that for reasons of safety, and to preempt the academic disruptions that international travel may bring, it would be better for her to stay with us.
Now, for the past few weeks, I have been her student. And she is a great teacher. She has set up an easy, but methodical approach to introduce me to the alphabet.
Our circumstances take me back to Gulzar’s poem, in which he invokes Mirza Ghalib and Meer Taqi Meer — the Urdu parallels of William Shakespeare and John Milton: ‘If travelling somewhere, sometime, someone recites a couplet from Ghalib or Meer’s poetry, even though he may be a total stranger, it feels like the person is my countryman.’
I marvel at the irony it entails. My father knew Urdu well and often used it. It never struck me at that time to learn it from him. My affinity to it has grown since his death in 2008. Maybe, Gulzar has a line about second chances in one of his poems.
So, as challenging as living in an unfamiliar, cloistered environment may be for most of us, it affords an enriching opportunity to pursue something new, or something old we thought we had lost. And that just might be worth staying inside for.
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This column was published online by the https://www.tribuneindia.com/ on April 06, 2020.
by blogadmin | Feb 28, 2020 | Blog Post, Media Publishing's, Year 2020
While American President Donald Trump and Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi were busy tooting each other’s horns this week, Delhi was burning. The Hindu-Muslim riots were emblematic of the violence and sectarian divide which has gripped India in recent times. Yet, it appears that Trump and Modi are rather unbothered by this escalation. Trump said that the incident was “up to India” to handle and that Modi had worked “really hard” to ensure religious freedom, while Modi simply addressed the matter through one tweet. Although both Trump and Modi claim to be teetotalers, to me at least, they always look drunk (perhaps on power). After all, how can a sober individual tell so many lies, so shamelessly, and bully his critics and opponents publicly without any inhibitions? They are high on the unassailable authority each one of them wields in their respective countries and parties; the Republican party in Trump’s case and the Hindu nationalist Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) for Modi. To ensure that they always stay cocooned within their megalomaniac personae, both are surrounded by sycophants and have ruthlessly sired a cult of loyalty and glorification around themselves. Trump’s trip to India only helped prove this point.
Cameras and booming rhetoric take precedence over action for both heads of state who apparently share a fetish for being cheered on by mammoth crowds of adoring and adulating followers, as evidenced by the “Namaste Trump” event. Regardless of their highly embellished talk of “Make America Great Again” and “Make in India”, both have used countries hostile to their own to help manipulate the voting masses and thus stay in power. While Modi and his political machinery openly uses Pakistan repeatedly to distract the focus of the Indian masses from the real issues plaguing India, Trump apparently has no shame in taking Russia’s help under the table while presenting Iran as the great external threat to the west.
Although Trump’s India visit did not result in a signing of the much talked about trade deal, the simple truth of the matter is that as far as Trump and Modi are concerned, the trip achieved its objective – boosting the egos of both the leaders. Trump knows that the pictures of him speaking to thousands in Ahmedabad will play well with his vote bank back home. Modi, having already won the election last year, needed this overly zealous show of support from Trump to try to silence those in India who have continued to be critical of many of Modi’s recent polices. Hence, the riots in Delhi couldn’t dampen the mood of either leader.
Both Trump and Modi boast of their physical strength like bullies in grade school and unabashedly accuse others for their nations’ ills. Trump points his finger at immigrants from Latin America and Muslim majority countries while Modi aims his accusations at non-Hindus in India, particularly Muslims. It is not surprising, therefore, when they excuse violence and vitriol against all those who are not interested in joining their respective fan clubs. Nothing showcases this more clearly than Charlottesville for Trump, and the unabated attacks on Muslims and the passing of the Citizenship Amendment Act (CAA) for Modi.
Notwithstanding the distance between their geographies and differences in their respective families and backgrounds, both have shown little respect for women too. Trump has demonstrated it repeatedly throughout his life by how he speaks about and uses women. Modi has demonstrated this by how little he has done to aggressively pursue rapists and deal with the increasing rapes and assaults against women, with many claiming that the rape crisis has worsened during the Modi regime. Another remarkable similarity between the two men is their practice of belittling others to attain self-aggrandising and grandstanding imperatives for their nationalistic autocracies.
Yet, despite having so much in common, their respective regimes have had different impacts on their economies. Trump inherited a rising economy from his predecessor which has continued to improve under him. In fact, that is going to be one of his major selling points during this election cycle in the United States. On the other hand, in India, the exact opposite has occurred under Modi as the juggernaut Indian economy now finds itself facing an economic slowdown which will have far-reaching effects. While Modi may choose to bury his head in the sand when it comes to addressing the Delhi riots, shouldering responsibility for the Indian economic downturn is unavoidable.
The president and the prime minister have created vicious divisions among their peoples only for their personal benefit, but in the process have caused irreparable harm to the social fabric of the countries they lead. Whether Trump and Modi realise it or not, the negativity their words and actions breed have global ramifications. Adolf Hitler’s rise in Germany before World War II hinged on a manufactured fear of physical and economic harm his brigades of hooligans created among those who disagreed with him. Modi and Trump have succeeded in using the same tools to threaten and scare their opponents while the majority, just like in that era, choose to stay silent. If they continue to do so, it will be at their own peril.
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This column was published online by the https://blogs.tribune.com.pk/ on January 27, 2020.
by blogadmin | Jan 26, 2020 | Blog Post, Delaware, Media Publishing's, Sikhism, Year 2020
I am a Sikh.
A turban is an article of faith for the Sikhs. It signals honesty, service and compassion to those in need. But the opposite has been perceived in our country, especially after 2001.
Many of my fellow Americans continue to mistake Sikhs for those they aren’t, simply because of their appearance.
From bullying in schools to discrimination in the workplace to becoming victims of violence, Sikhs continue to suffer because fellow citizens connect their appearance to terrorism.
As a result, more and more Sikhs are practicing their faith without its most visible article — the turban and the unshorn hair under it.
The first American killed by a fellow citizen in vengeance after 9/11 was a turbaned Sikh in Mesa, Arizona on Sept. 15, 2001.
Last September, in Texas, a routine traffic stop cost turbaned deputy Sandeep Dhaliwal his life. Another turbaned Sikh in Tracy, California, Paramjit Singh, was stabbed to death during a routine walk in the park last August. The list of such brutalities against turbaned Sikhs goes on.
Even America’s largest employer, the military, for decades did not allow Sikhs to serve with their articles of faith despite their rich and proud warrior history and inspiring record of service in the armed forces of various countries. More than 80,000 Sikh soldiers laid down their lives serving alongside Allied forces during World Wars I and II.
In 2017, after years of lawsuits and pressure, the U.S. Army changed its policy to allow observant Sikhs and members of other religions to wear beards and head coverings provided permission is applied for in advance. The NYPD now allows Sikh officers to wear turbans, joining a few other local law enforcement agencies with similar policies.
Yet, while some Sikhs have fought long and hard for the right to wear the turban, others have voluntarily abandoned this tradition, perhaps because of its possible impact on their personal or professional lives.
For example, here in Delaware, there are several prominent Sikh doctors but not one who wears a turban — despite their towering presence on the trustee and management boards of the state’s two gurdwaras, which are Sikh temples.
For Sikh women, life is easier on this count because a turban is optional for them. However, even without a turban, belonging to the Sikh faith or having brown skin can impede or even disqualify their participation in mainstream activities.
This is something Nikki Haley (nee Nimrata Nikki Randhawa), former governor of South Carolina and U. S. Ambassador to the United Nations, reportedly learned in her hometown of Bamberg, South Carolina, when she was 5.
Nikki’s parents had attempted to enter her in the “Miss Bamberg” contest but her application was rejected because she did not qualify for either crown: black or white. Eventually, a few years before entering politics, she changed her religion from Sikhism to Christianity.
It is ironic that in some parts of the world, the turban is viewed as a sign of security, not a threat. In India, the Sikh homeland, a single woman, or anyone who feels insecure, is more likely to hire a turbaned Sikh driver because of their well-known dedication to serving the needy and protecting the weak and vulnerable.
So in 2020 and beyond, how can Sikhs and other religious groups correct the misconceptions that appearances generate in those who are ignorant, hateful and impulsive?
Only through education and participation in schools, workplaces, houses of worship and communities — and a strong media presence — can observant Sikhs encourage and expect understanding.
Let’s hope that someday all Sikhs can base their decision to wear or not wear a turban purely on personal choice and not on external influences or threats.
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This column was published online by the www.delawareonline.com on January 24, 2020.
by blogadmin | Nov 11, 2019 | Blog Post, Media Publishing's, Sikhism, Year 2019
A few months ago, my wife and I decided to do the unthinkable: visit Pakistan.
Before boarding the Philadelphia-Lahore flight last month, I wrote an op-ed for Pakistan’s The Daily Times, but never anticipated the reaction on social media. Some of my fellow Indians — not only Modi devotees — were offended by my positive mentions of Pakistan and Muslims. The Patel community was most upset.
With this uncertain start, how could we believe that our maiden Pakistan visit would be such a joyous experience? From the moment we arrived we were treated like celebrities. Shopkeepers and restaurants would first refuse to accept money.
It is important to mention here that I was in a country and among people I had done my best all these years to avoid.
This side of Punjab has a lot of camels. I also observed rampant pigeon grooming for gambling. In Faisalabad (old Lyallpur), I was awestruck to see its sky blanketed by colourful kites. The city’s Gobind Pura, Nanak Pura and Harcharan Pura show its inseparable Sikh connection.
When we arrived at Lyallpur Khalsa College (now Municipal Degree College) on a late Friday afternoon, the college appeared to be closed. The security guard pointed us towards the principal who was just opening his car door. One of our local companions hurriedly approached the principal. I will never forget the principal’s words: ‘It is their college, their property. They built it. Who am I to give them permission to tour it?’
Pakistani Punjabi has always been endearing to me, even though my friends and I often made it a butt of our jokes. That its speakers found my Punjabi interesting and original was a pleasant surprise.
Outside Lahore’s Defence Raya Golf and Country Club, I was introduced to Lt Gen Zahid Ali Akbar (retd). Although 88 years of age, he seemed fit enough to finish a marathon. ‘What a joy to speak real Punjabi with you. What they speak here isn’t Punjabi. Teach them some before you leave!’ he said, pointing to my hosts.
At the Punjab Club, Lahore’s colonial hangover is unmistakable. Its dress code and no-photo policy are non-negotiable. Thanks to an invitation from Riaz Ahmad Khan, retired chief justice of the Pakistan Supreme Court, and his wife, we were allowed to visit and eat there.
It was a remarkable journey. I have lived in England as a student and visited many European and Central American countries for business and leisure. I have seen more expansive physical beauty and natural diversity, awe-inspiring infrastructure and impeccable systems. However, never before have I seen such hearty hospitality or experienced an abundance of love that so contrasted with a country’s image abroad. No wonder that we frequently asked each other, ‘Are we in Pakistan?’
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This column was published online by the www.tribuneindia.com on November 09, 2019.
by blogadmin | Nov 5, 2019 | Blog Post, Media Publishing's, Sikhism, Year 2019
In an October 5, 2019 column, I wrote about the overwhelming support and love my wife Harpreet Minhas and I received from Delaware’s Pakistani community in America on learning that we were travelling to Pakistan for the first time.
Guru Nanak’s 550th birth anniversary had inspired us to make the trip-one we had previously thought impossible. As it turned out, the eight days I spent in the country so feared by many turned out to be eight of my best.
Our Qatar flight on October 23 had landed almost an hour earlier in Lahore, just past midnight. Immigration and customs were a breeze-a pleasant surprise because getting our Pakistan visas in Washington D.C. had taken us a month.
The airport’s infrastructure and overall condition reminded me of India’s Nagpur airport, which I had visited before coming to America in 1999.
Outside, our trip guide and facilitator, Irfan Raza-our Delaware friend Rubina Malik’s relative and our ride to the Pearl Continental Hotel-had not yet arrived.
Walking around, I started looking and observing and taking pictures of my first glimpses of the Lahore I had read and heard so much about. A Sikh anywhere in the world has a special bond with Lahore for historical, religious, cultural and language reasons.
A bit later, a tall, good-looking man approached me. “Sat Sri Akal Ji.”
“Sat…Sri…Akal,” I mumbled, trying hard to place this familiar face.
Is he one of my wife’s many cousins who live in the Jalandhar belt or a sibling of one of my hometown Patiala friends? His smile and sweet and friendly demeanor provided no clues.
“Sorry, you are…?”
“Irfan, Ji.”His face bloomed even more as he stretched out his right hand. His beautiful wife, Bushra, stood by his side clasping her hands like I do many times when in a gurdwara.
Before they left after checking us in the hotel, we discussed how to overcome various uncertainties we may face arising from Maulana Fazlur Rehman’s call for nationwide protests. We decided to mitigate possible risks by visiting destinations outside Lahore first.
As planned, after we had bathed, changed, slept a few hours and eaten, Irfan and Bushra picked us up to go to Gurdwara Janam Asthan in Nankana Sahib. Irfan was driving.
We headed west and soon reached a bridge over a dry riverbed.
“India stopped Ravi’s water,” Irfan said, anticipating my question.
The dehydrated Ravi illustrated the rocks and stones and ravines in India and Pakistan relations. In my heart I asked Guru Nanak, “Will there be a day when these two neighbours will drown their rocks and stones and flow together in peace and harmony?”
After about three hours we reached the gurdwara on the site where 550 years earlier Guru Nanak Dev was born. I entered the compound and continued to walk towards the gurdwara. A man in his sixties, coming from the opposite side, greeted me.
“I am Abdul Rasheed. My elders revered Baba Nanak. Baba Fareed is our saint; he and Nanak are the same, they taught us. Sardarji, you are fortunate that he has summoned you to his darbar.”
Abdul’s wear was simple and his manner rustic, but what he said was divine.
“This is my first time. Do you live here in Nankana Sahib?” I asked.
“No, Samundari, near Lyallpur. This is my first time as well, though I have been intending to visit for decades.”
“Ah! Because it is his 550th, that’s why you came as I did from America?”
“No, I didn’t know it. Bhaiji (Sikh priest) inside, who fed us food, water and tea, told us. Sardarji, you came because he sent for you. I came because he called me, and he called me now. How could I come before?”
With that, he walked away quietly humming something.
When I came out after paying my obeisance, a group of seven non-Sikh men asked me for a picture. Another family requested the same when we were collecting our shoes.
Such requests for pictures by men and women, boys and girls, individuals and families, young and old, on foot or a bike or in a car grew in the days ahead. Why was I such a celebrity? Honestly, I don’t know.
For instance, the next day, before we reached Kartarpur Sahib, a camel owner in Narowal asked me for a picture. On arrival in the compound of the Gurdwara Darbar Sahib, we were mobbed by the national and international media present there rafter covering the signing of the agreement between India and Pakistan to operationalise Kartarpur Corridor. In Faisalabad, on Friday, visiting Lyallpur Khalsa College (now Municipal Degree College) was one of our top priorities. When we reached its gate, the college appeared to be closed and the helpless security guard pointed us towards the principal about to leave in his car.
When Aslam from our local host group approached him, I will never forget his reply: “It is their college, their property. They built it. Who am I to give them permission?”
Other than absent bars and wine shops and Urdu street signs, it is difficult to tell the two Punjabs apart. East Punjab doesn’t have a large and developed city like Lahore, soaked in grand history. Its DHA developments may have no match in northern India, while the Packages Mall could be a shopping destination anywhere on the globe.
I have lived in England as a student and visited many European, North, South and Central American countries for business and leisure. Australia and Asia as well. I have seen more expansive physical beauty and natural diversity, awe-inspiring infrastructure and impeccable systems.
However, never before have I seen such hearty hospitality or experienced an abundance of love that so contrasted with a country’s image abroad. No wonder that Harpreet and I frequently asked each other, “Are we in Pakistan?”
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This column was published online by the www.dailytimes.com.pk on November 05, 2019.
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