Dec 30, 2010

Choking Feeling

It was last year at this time of the year; I was torn apart with the grief and sorrow at my mom’s death. I was at school when I heard she passed away. That night, I was left in shock and couldn't recover for a long time. The grief was heavy on my shoulders as I was away from home. 


It was fall semester and I experienced a grievous loss. I didn’t tell anyone why I was sad and instead I isolated myself in my room and rarely walked out to the café and gym. I came to Philadelphia to spend my winter break with my host family and friends. My host family celebrated my birthday, and it was the first time in my life. When I was in Afghanistan, I used to consider it unimportant and no one really cared about it. 

That night, at dinner table, my hostess told me that when I get back home I should thank my mom for bringing me into this world. A sudden sharp grief chocked in my throat shortly, I resisted and I embraced her suggestion and said to her: “I will, I will.” No one realized the quiver in my voice. 

For several months, I have been having choked up feeling, it was not until recently when talked to my friends about my loss and I wrote a eulogy to my mother’s death

Oct 17, 2010

Waltz with Bashir

In 2008, during a hot summer of Kabul, while I was wandering around the city of Kabul and trying to raise money in order to rent an internet café to teach blogging and online journalism to the students and journalists who were interested in doing citizen journalism, I approached a young documentary filmmaker who randomly spoke to me about the Oscar Award. He mentioned the movie ‘Waltz with Bashir” which was nominated for that award, but because I lived in secluded cities of Afghanistan that are mostly disconnected from the world, you would never hope you watch the most recent movies. Therefore, I never expected to watch “Waltz with Bashir” until I was assigned to write about it for my class.

The movie “Waltz with Bashir” is an Israeli animated documentary written and directed by Ari Folman. Folman served in the Israeli army and has been an infantry soldier. He depicts his memories of nightmares of two refugee camps: Sabra and Shatila. At a time when the Israeli Defense Force (IDF) occupied Beirut and blockaded the refugee camps, the allied Lebanese forces, enraged by the murder of their leader, entered the refugee camps and overnight more than 800 people were massacred.

Folman put himself aside and looks at this incident as a solider who later said that we were all pawns in internal political disputes that resulted in the massacre of hundreds.
“Waltz with Bashir” is a depiction of horror, insanity and pouring indignation. The film starts with a group of rabid dogs running towards a checkpoint and immediately cut into a dialogue where a solider tries to recall his lost memories from 20 years ago from the Lebanese civil war. He finds himself in a tank shooting aimlessly. in the meantime the film shows that the IDF were ruthlessly cruising the city of Beirut, moving from small alleys and driving the tank over cars and destroying the walls to find a way out. The story is being told by his friend whose tank hits a mine and as all the soldiers flee they are gunned down leaving one survivor. He swam and finally reached an outpost which belonged to his regiment.

Folman afraid of dying, he recalls his girlfriend and how hard it would be for his girlfriend to see his dead body back in Israel. He deploys to Beirut and after getting off a plane, he walks through a terminal and feels he should be sent on a vacation rather than to war. While he rejoins his unit, suddenly he and his fellows are targeted from the buildings nearby by enemy fithers.

Folman tries to remember his lost memories; he hallucinates on the beach that he drowns while his fellow friends left him. Folman tells the story through different characters; cameraman, commander, officer and major of military units. Folman shows that the Christian Phalangists take women and children out of their houses and drove them to a site of murder. The Israeli soldiers realize what will happen to them but are reluctant to prevent the massacre.

Finally, the film ends with actual footage of men, women and children who are brutally massacred by Christian Phalangists. “Waltz with Bashir” is a powerful film that narrates the story of Sabra and Shatila and could only be made possible though such an animated movie. “Waltz with Bashir” is mixed of horror and satire that depicts the most violent pictures with rock music, soldier’s dream of naked women, memories from living in pleasure at the beach and surrealistic pictures and the dreams in amidst of battle. “Waltz with Bashir” shakes up the viewers and shows the outrageous, shocking and graceless side of human nature.

Sep 27, 2010

At the UN Week Digital Media Lounge

I spent two days last week in New York, having been invivted by Oxfam to cover the events of UN Week, and the Summit on the Millennium Development Goals. These were the final two days, and they were packed full with many great events happening Here I highlight just a few of the many inspirational, informative, and occasionally troubling events that highlighted UN Week Digital Media Lounge.

Thursday morning kicked off with an Oxfam breakfast disccussion about the Pakistani flood, which is affecting more people than the Tsunami of 2004, the Earthquake in Haiti, or Hurricane Katrina. The guest speaker was Dr. Donya Aziz, Pakistan’s youngest MP, and a long term advocate for health, education and womens empowerment in Pakistan. The program was moderated by Øistein Moskvil Thorsen, a humanitarian campaigner for the Oxfam. While by now it is common knowledge among international humanitarians that

The discussion focussd on the continuing effects of the flood. While it has been more than a month since the flood began, 430 people have been killed, more than 20 million people have been affected, thousands of whom remain in desperate need of aid, Dr. Aziz highlighted important aspects of catastrophe that rarely heard from conventional media. For example, a massive amount of crops were destroyed in the flood, which occurred soon before the seasonal harvast, so one of the lingering effects of the flood will be a massive food shortage and the economic impact of food shock.

While Dr. Aziz was talking about the flood and its devastation in Pakistan, USAID Administrator Dr. Raj Shah took part in a discussion moderated by Sen. Tim Wirth, Presidentof the UN Foundation. Though USAID has made major contributions o humanitarian aid relief in Pakistan, Shah took the opportunity to discuss a different issue, he Obama Administration’s domestic and international economic development. He made special mention of public-private partnerships, and the importance of bringing in businesses to invest more in global health problems. As an example, he invoked the work of Coca-Cola and their announcement to empower five million female entrepreneurs by 2020. Shah also spoke of “mutual accountability” as the fundamental driver of how USAID wants to operate.

The week also included the annual reveal of the top ten CNN Heroes of 2010. This is an annual television special created by CNN to honor individuals making extraordinary contributions to helping others. This year’s panel of judges included Muhammad Ali the former champion boxer.

The UN Week Digital Media Lounge was presented by Mashable, 92Y and the UN Foundation. The summit consisted of a week’s worth of activities revolving around how social media can be used to tackle some of the world’s social challenges and issues.

Sep 15, 2010

Someone is missing

As usual, you come back from gym, sit on computer, log onto e-mail, read the newest e-mail and you are suddenly burst with excitement after read them, jump up and down like a child, grab the cell phone, look up the numbers to share the good news with a friend, start scroll through names from top to bottom but you can’t find someone on the list, someone who can express his/her enthusiasm towards your excitement. You pause and think for a moment how lonely you are sometimes. Suddenly, a cold sweat tumble down your cheek and you still think someone is missing from your list.

Aug 9, 2010

Days with the mourning dove song

It is the cruelest week in this season; especially, when its days last longer and its hours operate slower when it is hot and humid. The cruelest part is when the mourning dove starts singing early in the morning and it goes on till frustration deepen to nerves. Then you have to challenge with your sadness that followed by your own insanity.

The season that everyone starts leaving or about to leave for a short journey or a long one, it reminds me that this is also the season of when every living thing in desert swoons south toward some dream of a Gulf and better climate (if we human beings respect and protect the environment); I guess they also test the horizon while human beings are not able to see it because of shortsightedness or may be they are not able to be so ambitious to fly that high and see the horizon. Down here is blocked by cloud, fog and bushes. To see the horizon, indeed, we need flying up there to see the better horizon.

My mom (Janet) is flying tomorrow, I envy her ambition and her ability that she is able to do it. Here, everyday, the shrill of cicadas hurts my ears in Chestnut Hill and around but now there is another thing overlapping and haunting me: She is flying by tomorrow and will be away for a while. A while that will end my summer and I will not be able see her when she gets back, probably a month later. A while that I have to bear her absence and feel lonely and live with her memories, what she taught me and what I learn from her. A great woman that I ever met, a great woman that has been a great supporter to me at any time. A well-educated and informative woman and most importantly very enthusiastic about environment, energy, human rights, education and more importantly thinking about global issues. A gift that can be found only rarely, mom is leaving by tomorrow and my day, tomorrow, will start with mourning dove song.

Jul 7, 2010

Afghanistan's not-so-free press

In November 2008, I received a phone call at my home in Afghanistan from Information Safety and Freedom (ISF) an Italian nongovernmental organization that supports free speech, notifying me that I (and Sayed Pervez Kambaksh, a journalism student at Balkh University), were the two international journalists to receive its award. The winners, I was told, would travel to Italy for an awards ceremony. But I knew that would be impossible -- Kambaksh was in Kabul's prison. In October 2007, Afghan police arrested him for blasphemy, after he allegedly downloaded and distributed information about the role of women in Islamic societies, and he was sentenced to death in early 2008. His sentence was later commuted to 20 years in prison, after outcries from Afghan journalists and right groups. I received the ISF award for my work on a weekly satire cartoon magazine and blog, which was shut down in 2004. I received numerous death threats and was forced to leave the country for seven months that year. Continue reading...

Jun 22, 2010

Mullah McChrystal Must Be Drunk

General McChrystal's remarks on Obama and Biden and others is already echoed through the media in the United States. God knows what he has been thinking with expressing such bizarre statements. I am having doubt that those comments are direct and are not have taken from the context.
But when he apologizes, this assures us that General has said something wrong.

There are many things to consider before writing about him, especially, during his command since 2009 in Afghanistan. I trawled through Afghan media to find Afghans reactions because this might bring a big shift in Kandahar operation which is planned to be happen in the next coming months but I couldn't find anything up to now.

Why Mullah McChrystal? Well, Mullah is Farsi word and means master, anyone who has enough knowledge in his (not her because mullah masculine name) profession is called Mullah. McChcrystal can be a mullah in Afghanistan but Mullah is also a notorious name for someone who is doing something wrong or screwed up, like McChrystal.

It is hard to hope that he will not be fired as everyone at the White House is angry at him right now. But lets hope for a big changes in U.S strategies fighting against Taliban. May be a new general with a new strategy is needed but who can be like McChrystal? May be the answer is no one.

Jun 21, 2010

With 95% of the Country Insecure, The Prospects for the Parliamentary Elections Look Grim

According to the BBC, the Afghan Interior Ministry released a report to the media on Thursday June 17th stating that out of the country’s 364 districts, only 11 are stable. This report has come out during preparations for parliamentary elections scheduled for September 18, 2010. It raises question marks over the ability of the Afghan government and its international supporters to hold a national election amidst widespread insecurity that is escalating with each passing day.

Initially slated for May 22, 2010, the election was postponed by the Independent Election Commission of Afghanistan due to security concerns, logistical problems and insufficient funds. The postponement was warranted at the time, but it is unclear whether conditions will improve markedly enough to hold the poll in September. If the Afghan Interior Ministry’s estimation is accurate, almost 95% percent of the country is unstable at the moment. Read more...

Jun 14, 2010

Fresh Allegations Against Karzai

Recently, a journalist based in Kabul reported from an unknown source that Mullah Baradar, the deputy of Mullah Mohammad Omar, the leader of the Taliban, has revealed information regarding his relationship with the Afghan authorities. Baradar was captured by US and Pakistani forces in February 2010 and is still in custody in Pakistan. President Karzai has persistently demanded that the Pakistani government transfer him to Afghanistan, but Pakistani officials have refused.

According to the unknown source, Mullah Bradar has revealed that a number of close relatives of Karzai have been working closely with Taliban insurgents in recent years. They were involved in mobilizing suicide attacks in a number of different cities. The source claimed that Mullah Baradar has revealed a long list of prominent figures in Afghanistan that opposed Karzai who were targeted by Taliban insurgents under this arrangement. Continue...

May 30, 2010

I became the grand prize winner

I want to express appreciation to all who supported me and voted for photos in the contest. The photo contest which is called "Why Afghanistan Matters" was launched last year by NATO. According to their website, there were 451 photos submitted from 57 contestants in 15 countries. The goal of this contest was to show Afghanistan to the world through the lens that why Afghanistan matters. There were four categories: Beautiful Afghanistan, people of Afghanistan, ANSF in action and ISAF in action.

I entered into three categories with six pictures. This was a unique opportunity for me to show a different picture of my country to the world, the pictures of beautiful nature of Afghanistan and its people that rarely shown to the world. I became the grand prize winner with a photo from Mazar-e Sharif in which a family is feeding pigeons considered to be sacred.

Finally, thanks to NATO and organizers who came up with this great idea that allowed me to be parts of showing why Afghanistan matters.

I will continue to work hard and take pictures of issues which lie ahead.

May 24, 2010

The Independent and Accuracy

Unbelievably, The Independent has changed and deleted most parts of the article after my critic about its exaggeration and almost lying about Afghanistan's administration position towards David Bekham's visit to Helmand. That is good sign, that means it was a telling criticism that made The Independent to rectify that errors.

That shows the tolerance of criticism and believing in accuracy of The Independent. We often come across some news that are published in some newspaper that is pure hogwash but still believed true. I occasionally find them in Afghan newspapers that reading them haunts me.

The point I criticized was not only on exaggerating but more it was humiliating to Afghan people. I personally can not tolerate any kinds of contemptuous comments against anyone, especially, my country. Bekham, went to Afghanistan for a goodwill visit to meet British troops in Helmand and support them. That is a great job and I am happy for that too.

But, I wished Bekham could come with a tiny plan that he could make donation for making a soccer field to those children who lost their parents in war and for those adults that wandering around in the field of poppy in Helmand that can be easily hired by Taliban.

May 21, 2010

Beckham visits Helmand

This news is on the Independent website that says David Beckham flies out to visit British troops in Helmand. But this part must be a joke:

The Afghan government was keen for Beckham to also travel north to spend time in the capital Kabul – which would have been a considerable coup for the administration, given that his celebrity extends to the Islamic Republic. However, the plan was vetoed at an early stage.
I found it a bit snobbish and naive. Everyone knows that Afghanistan is grappling with its insecurity and series of other problems and his visit as a soccer player have nothing to do with Afghan situation. Bechkahm is famous in UK and other European countries that soccer is considered a major sport in their lives but not in Afghanistan. I'm having doubts that if you could find a few people knowing Beckham in Afghanistan, let alone the government.

It is funny that the writer insistingly says that it would have been a considerable coup for the administration that his celebrity extends to the Islamic Republic. What a funny joke I ever heard of. Sometime, lying to make things important is too hard, like this one that brings a disgusting feeling to you.

Anyway, my cousin and I were a big fun of him in 2002 World Cup when we were in Dubai but when we moved to Afghanistan, due to lack of electricity that we had to light a candle at night, it was hard to remain a fan of Beckham, Ronaldo, Roberto Carlos and other Brazlian soccer players.

May 19, 2010

Thank You All

Where to begin, what to say... I can't remember anything right now for writing. I just come here to say:
I deeply appreciate your kind expression of sympathy in my time of great sorrow. I know my pain will decrease and what will remain will always be. Your words definitely consoled my heart. Thank to all of you; those of you who left condolence words on my blog and those of you who sent by e-mail. Thank you for keeping me in your thoughts and prayers.

May 11, 2010

Eulogy For My Mother

HawaPlease, someone should stop the clock from ticking, someone should ask the dogs in the alley not to bark tonight. Someone should go to the street and ask the drivers not to blow their horns and drive slowly. I don’t want to hear tires squealing. I don’t want to hear birds singing. I don’t want to hear any noises tonight. Please turn off the lights, I want it dark. Dark so that I can’t see myself and around me. My hands are numb, I can’t feel anything. I can't see either. There is something wrong with my eyes; they are burning and seem to have no tears left. I am trying to find the windows but they cannot be found. It's an oppressive night. I don’t want to see the stars gleaming up there, and someone should be out there to prevent the moon from glittering. Someone should pull them down, pack and throw them in the trash. The light has become a tyranny tonight.


I want the autumn to arrive soon so that the trees shed their leaves on the moon. I don’t want to see the frail wind blowing through trees and make them sway as if they are prostrating to death. I want tonight as dark as a grave. Someone should help me find the answer, why is it a long night? 

Amidst my med-term exams, I received a short message from Qasem, my younger brother in Kabul. He had written: “mom is not feeling well; it has been more than 13 days, she hasn't eaten anything.” 

I wrote back and begged him to find a way that I could speak with her. There is no cell service in our area. But I badly wanted to talk to my mother. I wanted to hear her voice and I wanted to hear her again telling me: "my son, when are you coming home, I miss you." I promised her last year to go home and visit her. A week passed. Qasem wrote back to me: 

“Nasim, dad called today, I asked him how is mom, he went silent. I asked him again and again: dad, please tell me how is mom? His voice broke with emotion and told me: My son, your mom left us, she is no longer among us.” 

My fingers are numb on the keyboard, I can't write him back. What should I write? I have been through difficult times, but no news has ever been more devastating to me than this one. I am drowned in the sea of sorrow. I lost my mother, my beloved one; I lost my strength and supporter who was always there for me in bad and good times. 

Tonight, I feel cold and the silence has taken me over and it becomes more and more painful as I am constantly being flooded with my childhood memories. Ah mum! you are not here that I can call you and hear your voice and your laughter. 

Mom! You could wait to see your peasant son come back to you from college as a learned person. You could wait to hear my stories. Damn this life when I found myself, I left you and dad in search of food to survive. 

In 2004, my mother was suffering from an unknown illness. In 2005, doctors found out that she had diabetes. She passed away due to the shortage of insulin. 

She was a beautiful, strong, peasant woman; she was still young, just 60 years old. I was young when I left the village and didn't see her for several years. Back then, she was young and strong and spent most of her time on the farm. Her dream was that I become a cleric one day. 

She was a very kind and generous woman, and taught us to carry her values. She always told us: “if you see a poor person knocking on our door, offer something, don’t let that person go away without any help.” When I first arrived in the U.S., one day I took the subway and at the station, I saw a person's hands stretched out for help. I bought him a cup of coffee because I couldn't pass by without fulfilling my mother's moral duty that was passed on to me.

My mother was illiterate, like my father, but she had mastered cooking, sewing, knitting, embroidery and other life skills. Other women always came to our house seeking advice from her. She was generous and believed that skills and knowledge must always be shared. She raised eight children, one of her young daughters died at age 18. She was survived by her husband and seven children (two daughters and five sons).

We grew up on subsistence agriculture, we were poor, but the farming provided a degree of self-sufficiency. We worked really hard. We did not have money though. We got our supplies through bartering. My mother played an important role in our lives. When she passed away, everything fell apart.

Last year, I promised to visit her this summer but she is not there any longer. She is not there to stand at the overlook, on the big rock at the corner of our mud house, and look down into the narrow path in the valley as I am arriving. She is not there anymore to cook for me her delicious food and tell me: “I want my son to be strong and healthy.” It made me think that I have been his favorite child. I miss her so much as I am recollecting the fragrant smell of her cooking. 

Mom! You didn’t wait for me. I want your demure smile now, your scent and your looks. I want your strong but gentle hands stroking my face, I want you to tell me your fairy tales like you did when I was young, I want your encouragement and your support. I feel so weak and unproductive nowadays. 

No, no, she is not here any longer but I want her now. I want to go back to her and find her at the corner of the living room in our old mud house, sitting and sewing socks and gloves for her children. I want her telling me: Nasim, fetch a glass of fresh water from the spring gurgling through the rocks not too far. I want her to ask me to go to the farm and collect grass for sheep, goats and cows. 

No, no, she is not there anymore. No one is there to patiently listen to my stories. No one will be as worried about me as she was. No one will call me to go to the village for fresh milk and yogurt. 

Mom! You could wait to see your little shepherd son, who used to take your goats and sheep to the mountains for grazing, is now a grown man. You could wait to see how much I am changed and I have become a man of my own as you wished. 

Mama! You could wait and see that your Nasim is no longer a naughty boy; he is no longer a troublemaker; he no longer hides on trees, and he no longer throws rocks at birds. He has traveled far and shaken hands with wise people. You could wait until I come back and I would tell you the stories of my travels, but with whom I can share my stories after you? 

I remember those days when I was little, I followed you on the farm, on the hills, on the mountains and on the prairies as you were collecting grass for the herd. Someone should take me home. I want to be with my mother on the farm now. I want to go back to the days seeing myself following her on a narrow path to the grassland and collecting grass for the cattle. 

Mom! You used to call me, "my little champ." I used to carry your baskets and your loads of grass in the field. We together fed the cattle and cows. When you were milking them, I held the bucket for you. I remember those days I was collecting woods for your oven. I remember you baking bread and when the first bread was out of the oven, you gave it to me with a glass of fresh milk.

I remember you told me that I was born during the Soviet invasion. One day when the helicopter appeared in the sky and started dropping bombs on our village, you were looking for safety, you took me to the mountains and hid in a cafe. That must had been terrifying. 

Mom! I heard, after you everything went into silence. No one talks loudly to each other, they dress in black, walk slowly, your place at the corner of our old house is empty, near the furnace, where in winter was the warmest place, where you were sitting and making socks, jerseys, gloves for your children.

Last year when I came to visit you, I held your thick and strong hands in mine, the hands that held me, caressed me and pulled me up from the ground. I kissed them. I noticed some deep cracks in your hands. I saw an age-old battle against hardship and an age-old hardworking and striving for a better life. I'm the sum total of your suffering and your determination. I am the culmination of your dreams. Yes, your dreams!

Mom! Forgive me that I was not by your side and that I couldn't say goodbye. Forgive me that I was not there to take care of you, especially during the last days of your life! 

It was a great honor to have been raised in your arms! Thank you for all your hard work and for passing on your compassion and kindness! Thank you for raising me into the strong, ambitious, genuine and open-minded individual that I am today!

You will be missed, Hawa, my beloved mom! 

Your son,
Nasim

May 5, 2010

Honor Gang Rape

We often hear of “honor killing” in the mass media, a practice that exists in some Muslim countries including Afghanistan. An honor killing is the murder of a family or clan member in which the perpetrators are motivated by a belief that the victim has brought dishonor upon the family, clan or community. A comparable, yet less widely publicized form of honour punishment, is gang rape. While honor gang rapes are usually carried out against women, an incident that took place two weeks in Northern Afghanistan involved the gang rape of two young men.

According to a local report, a dozen farmers and shepherds raped two young men as a punishment for engaging in sexual relations with two young women. The incident occured in the Dasht-e Laili (Laili desert) of Jawzjan province, an area famed for being the site of a Taliban massacre in the aftermath of September 11. Both young men are related to high-ranking government officials, one being the son of the provincial governor and the other the son of a police chief. Prior to the rape the two young men were disarmed and saw their belongings, including a few thousand US dollars, confiscated by the farmers and shepherds. The perpetrators of the rape explained that the punishment was meted out as an act of revenge for the sexual acts undertaken by the young men. Continue reading...