The return, Insha Allah
After what has been quite a long summer, I can say that Insha Allah, I will be coming back to Georgetown. Much has happened here in Karachi, and much has changed in me. How much exactly is something that can only be measured by others when they see me upon my return to Washington, Insha Allah.
So what exactly has been going on my mind? Not much really. I guess I realized what every human being is supposed to realize when they are growing up: your responsibilities come before your dreams. My parents are making some great sacrifices to send me to my dream school. It is now my responsibility to ensure that I can return their favour unto me.
A lot has been going on in Pakistan as well. Epecially my city of Karachi. But more on that later. For now, I will only talk about Washington and what I got out of.
I may have mentioned earlier how I see myself as an oxymoron. There is a part of me that lives in the Western Enligtenment tradition and seeks intellectual nourishment along those lines. There is yet another part of me that believes in the traditionalism that was born out of the teachings of Shah Waliullah Dehlvi. It sees Islam as being a rational way of life that at the same time demands an adherence to its timeless values.
In Pakistan, I have had to meticulously seperate the two parts of myself. At Georgetown, particularly in the MSA, I found that I could talk to Muslim students who were familiar with the Enlightenment as well as Islam's own rich intellectual traditions. For the first time, I did not have to seperate the two. And despite being surrounded by college students who engaged in all sorts of morally questionable behaviour, I was able to say that I have found those among whom I belong.
Enter then Pakistan, and my hometown of Karachi. This sprawling metropolis of over 15 million people that I call home began to look alien to me. Part of the reason was the fact that my house was not the home in which I had been born in. My birthplace has been given on rent by the faily. I dare not look at what it has become. I find the memory of my childhood to be sufficient to ease the pain of seperation from that home.
But more that this physical manifestation, I realized something else. I don't have any friends, barring a handful, with whom I can be as free in thought and expression as those I have in the United States. And among that handful, most happen to be studying in colleges in North America and England. Only Faizan is one with whom I can relate at most levels.
My whole conception of home was challenged. All my life, I have been a die-hard Pakistani patriot. Now, I look upon this land as being alien. (Though the major reason for that is the socio-political and economic transformation that this country is going through.) Where am I to go if I want to go home? Much as I like the US, it is an alien land still. Pakistan is still home. But the fomer is becoming lesser alien and the latter is becoming lesser of a home.
Oh, to hell with it all! A servant of God roams the entire face of the Earth in his quest to do the bidding of his Creator. He has no need for a hearth. I just pray that Allah carries me to wherever I can serve Him best.
So what exactly has been going on my mind? Not much really. I guess I realized what every human being is supposed to realize when they are growing up: your responsibilities come before your dreams. My parents are making some great sacrifices to send me to my dream school. It is now my responsibility to ensure that I can return their favour unto me.
A lot has been going on in Pakistan as well. Epecially my city of Karachi. But more on that later. For now, I will only talk about Washington and what I got out of.
I may have mentioned earlier how I see myself as an oxymoron. There is a part of me that lives in the Western Enligtenment tradition and seeks intellectual nourishment along those lines. There is yet another part of me that believes in the traditionalism that was born out of the teachings of Shah Waliullah Dehlvi. It sees Islam as being a rational way of life that at the same time demands an adherence to its timeless values.
In Pakistan, I have had to meticulously seperate the two parts of myself. At Georgetown, particularly in the MSA, I found that I could talk to Muslim students who were familiar with the Enlightenment as well as Islam's own rich intellectual traditions. For the first time, I did not have to seperate the two. And despite being surrounded by college students who engaged in all sorts of morally questionable behaviour, I was able to say that I have found those among whom I belong.
Enter then Pakistan, and my hometown of Karachi. This sprawling metropolis of over 15 million people that I call home began to look alien to me. Part of the reason was the fact that my house was not the home in which I had been born in. My birthplace has been given on rent by the faily. I dare not look at what it has become. I find the memory of my childhood to be sufficient to ease the pain of seperation from that home.
But more that this physical manifestation, I realized something else. I don't have any friends, barring a handful, with whom I can be as free in thought and expression as those I have in the United States. And among that handful, most happen to be studying in colleges in North America and England. Only Faizan is one with whom I can relate at most levels.
My whole conception of home was challenged. All my life, I have been a die-hard Pakistani patriot. Now, I look upon this land as being alien. (Though the major reason for that is the socio-political and economic transformation that this country is going through.) Where am I to go if I want to go home? Much as I like the US, it is an alien land still. Pakistan is still home. But the fomer is becoming lesser alien and the latter is becoming lesser of a home.
Oh, to hell with it all! A servant of God roams the entire face of the Earth in his quest to do the bidding of his Creator. He has no need for a hearth. I just pray that Allah carries me to wherever I can serve Him best.
posted by Farooq Tirmizi at
10:20 AM
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