Here it is

Mohammed Ammar Bin Yaser

That day Sir Humair Istiaq explained the concept of ‘nose for news’ to us. It’s one of the essential characteristics of a reporter: the ability to smell and question any wrongdoing around him or her that is usually overlooked by a layman, and put it in perspective by exploring the idea in detail then developing a story out of it. The idea hit me. I thought it’s actually easy to intelligently write about anything as long as the facts are correct and the story can be put in perspective.

I came home excited but caught cold, and my head started to ache. My nostrils got blocked so I was unable to smell any object whatsoever, let alone situations. In other words, I was sick so I didn’t feel like to write. But I didn’t stop toying with ideas. I thought I should write about the interminable load-shedding we bore on Wednesday. But then thought no, it sounded clichéd. They happen all the time. I wanted to unravel some juicy scoops about departmental corruptions that are open secrets among students in the department but are never written about or discussed formally. Then I thought, I shouldn’t get entangled in needless controversies.   

But I didn’t give up. I thought I should dream up some phony news story and let it go. Something like: Somali Student Claims to be Obama’s Cousin. And make a hilarious news report out of the headline. But I wasn’t in a funny mood. So I sat down with a single purpose in mind: to write a blogpost not more than three paragraphs long, that is coherent, intelligible and which crisply explains my situation. And here it is.

Somali Medical Union conduct a seminar in KU

By Aden Dahir

A one-day seminar on diabetes and hormone diseases was organized by Somali Medical Union Pakistan, Karachi chapter, which was held in the University of Karachi this week.

The monthly awareness seminar focused on how to deal with patients having diabetes mellitus and how the disease can be prevented.  The speakers gave consultations and suggestions regarding diabetes and emphasised the need to hold such awareness programs regularly.

 The chairperson of Somali Medical Union Pakistan, Dr. Farah Mohammed Shirawe, presided over the program. Students from Pharmacy, and MBBS, including post-graduates delivered presentations and lectures on the diabetes and hormone diseases.

SMU was formed in 2001 and holds one such awareness seminar once a year.

Our Wise Old Neighbour from Iran

By Sidrah Gufran Roghay

If you have been a part of the department of mass communication then it is impossible to miss the merry go lucky owner of the busiest corner of the building, with his twinkling eyes and charcoal curls that he sometimes ties in a pony tail. One of the earliest persons to come to the department, way before the office staff and at times the sweepers and known for his sing-song  "Kya Lain Gay Aap". Students love him for his honesty, wit, and sagacity that several years of studies cannot buy.

As a first year when I was new to the department I was impressed by the way he would always dust his shoes before he entered, pick up dustbins that lay fallen down and give free advice to passing students. There is a whole corner of his canteen dedicated to personal belongings of students, for he is trusted by many.

Many a times he would talk to me about how media through sensationalization was depriving our nation of hope. For a man who had hardly received any formal education I found his arguments solid, having weight.

Wanting to know more about his life I decided to have a heart to heart with this lovely man, our Abdul Bhai. I know he belongs to Iran since he is always talking me into lending him my little Alto to visit Iran. I must add at times I am tempted to do so. Often he tells me about the adventures of the journey. "We sit in a four-wheeler, which charges twelve hundred per person. It takes about eleven people at a time. Once we reach the border we drive very fast, for if an official catches us we're in for deep trouble. Once inside Iran, no one stops you."

He tells me he was born in a small village Niqoor, in the Balochistan province of Iran. Since there hadn't been any rain in the area for several years and he largely cultivated for a living, he along with his family decided to migrate to Karachi.

And when was that? Well this was one hard question for him. Bad with his dates he twitches his little button nose, and reminisces the past. "I witnessed the 65 war in Karachi, so it must have been somewhere around 1958", he recalls. Barefooted and empty pocketed then, he started his schooling in a government school in Shantinagar, where he had hardly completed grade nine when he traveled back to Iran to work as a cook's right hand on a small fishing ship.

Fate brought him back to Karachi. Its funny how he remember dates according to the political situation in Pakistan. "I came back when Bhutto Sahib was hanged, in search of a better job prospect."

After staying in Pipri for three years where he earned a living through dispatching sacks of rice, he came back to Karachi. This was when he finally entered Karachi University in 1982. He started working in the Central Cafeteria. He talks about the good old times when the campus was a vast desert full of thorny bushes, wild animals, and few departments. My favourite story is the one about the  deadly snake; he calls it an annaconda, which took lives of many dogs (and not humans). This he recounts is the sole reason for the decline of dogs in Karachi University.

After another couple of years his roots called him back and he returned to Iran.

His journey too and fro from Iran is a regular part of his life, and narrating each trip will simply bore my dear readers, so I fast forward it to the time when he entered the department of Mass Communication. "I came here three years back. Khursheed Sahib brought me here. He's the clean shaved fair guy who sits in the office." He secretly confides to me that he thinks he is very handsome."

I count back to his date of birth, which was roughly in the mid fifties, and I realize he must be a man in his mid or even late fifties. His short, petite body, brisk gait and happy face largely minus these years from his face. So what is the secret behind your fitness? He breaks into his well known chuckle and remarks "meri khushi meri sehat ka raz hai." He never gets angry he tells me. "I never shout at my children, and I hate people who beat up their children."

And what is it that you like about Karachi University? He laughs then stays quiet for a very long time, and then shares his wise owl wisdom with me. "Theres nothing I like or dislike about the university." Difficult to comprehend I decide to leave this matter to the reader's comprehension, and with this wise note I sign off. This was my interpretation of the life of Abdul Bhai, our well loved canteen wala from the country next door!

Storm in a teacup

By Sidra Rizvi

It all started with a simple question; "does everyone in your group have equal number of blog posts?" Then the dark clouds gathered. Lightening struck, and the thunder was heard as far as the chair person’s office. 

Another usual class of ‘Media in the Modern World’ had begun. Tempers flew high, fingers were pointed, some tears were shed and of course careless giggling was audible.

The storm had officially hit the classroom. Tea spilt everywhere. The famous symbolic teabag was seen flying in the air.

Questions about who should do what, and who should accept responsibility were circling around. The importance of every single mark was discussed. The need to work as a team was stressed upon. Comparisons between everyday instances and experiences during the blog assignment were made.

Everyone was busy sharing their opinions. It was then the Chooran Candy bloggers began feeling left out. They were missing the entire action. Some were busy messaging, some were yawning wildly while some were looking hungrily at the contenders, wondering if they too will get a slice of the wedding cake or a sip of the tea rather.

As more dark clouds assembled, claims of controversial unposted blogs were made. Not wanting to miss the tea party, a student plunged into the cup head first. He did not make it out unscathed however. A link between him and the previous plunger was tried to be established, and all efforts failed.

The questioned asked above was still left unanswered while many more sprang up. "Is it important for everyone to submit an entry on their appointed day?" was the new question. "What would happen if he/she failed to do so?" was part ‘b’.

An example of an empty seat on a bus and its competitors was given, which satisfied some. Others merely grunted, some laughed since they had nothing else to do.

 While the deprived candy bloggers still unable to take part, decided that they must come up with something to fight about in the next class. Whispering quietly to each other they scheduled an audition and rehearsal later in the day to determine who can play what role.

Amidst the heated discussion and the erupting ashes from Mount Etna promising the forthcoming lava, the creaky door opened. The teacher for the next class peeped in. Time stopped. An eerie silence overtook the class. As if with a spoon, the storm in the teacup was stirred away, and preparations for the mid term began.

A " Good " Student's University Life

By Saman Hashmi

Getting admission in your desired University is like a dream come true, but you never know when this dream transforms into a “nightmare”. Speaking of dreams, I had a dream once, of higher education in the most preferred- University of Karachi. Now I wonder whether I dreamed about studying or not to study at all.

Let us have a peek into lives of apparently ‘good’ students. Being ‘good’ students we will never know the schedule of our classes but you can count on us when it comes to our friends’ birthdays. What else is more important than robbing our friends of every single dime by forcing them into treating us at Pizza Hut? What else is more compelling than attending late-night Sunday party, ignoring the upcoming test the very next day?

The transition from college to university life is like reallocating from a pond to an ocean. There are no uniforms, no early morning assemblies, (apparently) no homework, no PTMs (Parent Teacher Meetings). Or you can simply put it as: your imprisonment is over! You don’t have to wake up at 6am sharp, anymore. Your new sun rises at 8 am. There are no teachers, but elderly, qualified, hard-working (don’t remember anymore adjectives) professors. Well, that’s something else that when they come and scribbles something on the blackboard and utter some unfamiliar words, you doze off, snoring unaware of the world around you. Similarly, purpose of notebooks changes; they are for playing tic-tac-toe or chatting with your mates rather than writing. Libraries are considered to be haunted houses. ‘Good’ students like us don’t even dare to think entering into such forbidden places.

A ‘good’ student kills time bunking classes, sitting in cafeteria, or simply goggling around if nothing hits. The principal is a ‘dude’, whom you have never seen. You imagine him to be an old, bald-headed guy with spectacles. Of course, while some students never get to meet this man in question, there are other unlucky ones who meet him often, more often than they desire! Believe me, it’s not a very good experience.

Do you know simile of graveyard? I know, it’s lecture halls and classrooms. But soon ring tones from every corner can be heard, or paper planes start flying over your head. A chalk will land on your book and that haunted graveyard has been converted to a disco-of-sorts. University hours end, and the mob goes for lunch, after that to the shopping malls, parks, etc. and finally home. Then you always have time to watch movies and talk to friends on cell.  What about sleep? Well, that is managed in the class the next day. But later comes an announcement that it’s an off tomorrow for some boycott, or simply because it’s K.U. So you now have entire day to doze off at home.

Jokes apart, university is about doing something useful while enjoying it. I believe university life is the time, when one can learn a lot of things apart from academic education. As it is said that we live and we learn. So here we not only live but live to the fullest, adding experience to our lives and employing them whenever needed. This is when you can be of maximum help to your friends, your society, and your country. Because you are the future, the tomorrow, the revolution that can change the world. Each day at university is an experiment, and the result of each such experiment is experience. Use this experience to move ahead in life. In this way we truly educate ourselves.

I have nothing to write, but I have to!

By Shumaila Rais

My blog-fellows covered almost all the good topics. Therefore, I don’t have any good ones to write on. But as this blog is a part of an assignment, I have to write and email something when my turn comes, to my group leader. 

According to our Ma’am, writing is not a big deal. Whenever any of us talk about it or ask about a topic to write on, she says, “Blog likhna koi mushkil nahi hai, sirf teen paragraphs likhne hote hain sirf teen paragraphs, kuch bhi likhdo bhai”. Once she said, “Why isn't anyone not writing an article on this stupid sentence?? (That was written on the gate of class room),  and recently, my class fellow failed to submit his article. Then she said to him “why are you not writing on this tea bag?? (Which was lying on the floor of department but it was not inside or nor outside? )."

Writing is not so difficult but writing on a specific topic is an ordeal for me. Perhaps I am not used to  it. The most difficult thing is to decide and interesting topic to blab on. Well, Ma’am Sadia Mehmood is a teacher and for me she is a good one, but writing on anything is easy for her say,  but its not that easy for us students. Even many good students are now sick of this blog writing. But I am dead sure about that fact that these writings will definitely help us in our professional life. With that hope it will be my second last article after that I have to write just one more. So I have start thinking about the topic for last one.

 I am not in the mood to write anything more so I think I should finish this article. And I know most of you, or perhaps all of you won’t like it but as I mentioned earlier I have to write because it’s the only matter of marks for us!!