Deal Shows Force and Diplomacy go together

The US and Russia have today struck an agreement on the process for disarming Syria of its chemical weapons stockpile. There are three lessons to be learned from this crisis that reached a crescendo over the last month.

First, the threat of the use of force works. And when the threat to use force comes from the US, all countries know what that will be or could be like. US military firepower is unmatched, but America's ability to project that firepower cannot be underestimated either. Over the past decades the Syrians have owned dangerous chemical weapons without any accession to national responsibility for posessing them under international law. Until a few days ago, Syria was amongst only five countries that have neither signed nor ratified the Chemical Weapons Convention that prohibits the use, transport and production of chemical weapons. The criminal action of using these weapons against its own people presented a dangerous challenge to other countries who have taken a moral stand against chemical weapons. The US could have decided to ignore the murder of innocent civilians by its own government. It did not, because that was not the right thing to do. Instead, the US took a stand that the Syrian government must be punished for these actions, and if Syria does not take steps to remedy this crime against humanity, force will be used. Today, the process has started to finally disarm Syria of these weapons that should not be possessed by any.

Second, I also feel that the deal demonstrates that diplomacy can work with Russia when a military option is put on the table. As hostile as President Putin may be to US interests (think Edward Snowden or Georgia), he knows that when the US means business, it better be taken seriously. That realization makes the Russians more open to pursue diplomacy. Syria is a key ally for Russia, so disarming Syria is a net loss for the Russians. But the fact that Moscow has shown that it can come around to the diplomatic table only reinforces the notion that US military strength counts for something.

Finally, the threat of force by the US shows that the United Nations Security Council never was and never will be a constraint on US diplomacy and power politics. In fact, in this specific case of Syria, one could argue that with an obstinate veto from the Russians, perhaps the Security Council, with its obsolete structure and the predisposition of its permanent members' to protect national interests at the expense of international norms, is not necessarily the sole, legitimate organ it is meant to be on declaring war. This is clearly dangerous, since other States could use force without Council authorization too, but so far US military power is qualitatively different from what other countries possess.

Malala Yusufzai's speech in Washington, 2015

The year is 2015. President Obama welcomes a teenage warrior to a rostrum, somewhere in the White House.

Thank you, Mr. President.

Thank you everybody for this great honor.

I stand before you as someone who is very clear and yet very disoriented. I could never have imagined this fame. I could also never have imagined that I will get this fame and these honors simply for wanting something that is so basic. All I wanted was knowledge. All I demanded was my right to an education.

I am a simple Pakistani girl. We live simple lives in Swat. Uncomplicated. Happy. With small pleasures of eating apples and apricots from the orchards, or playing hide and seek in the forest.

I love my country, Pakistan, deeply. It is the only place I have ever known. I love my life there, and I could never wish living anywhere else.

But I also love to learn. I like going to school. I like my friends there, my teachers and my books.

In 2009, when the Taliban took control of Swat, they shut down the schools and forbade girls from getting an education. I did not understand why education for girls needed to be banned.

I was lucky to have my father and my mother. And my love for knowledge. I could not stay away from it. When you love something very much, you express your love without thinking. You cannot stop it, or stay away from it.

I did not search for popularity. I searched for a way to go back to school.

When I was shot in the head by the Taliban in October 2012, I did not know what my crime was. I knew my life was in danger, like it was for so many of my family members and so many others in Swat. Life is in God's hands. I will die the day I am meant to die. But until I live, I am meant to learn. And so I will.

I have met children here in this country, in the United States. They are lucky. But I do not wish to live here. This is not my country. My country is Pakistan. In Swat, I have to insist on my right to an education. And it is a fulfilling struggle. When I look at that blackboard, open my book, write a sentence and come back thinking about stars and rainbows, about mountains and cities, all that is more satisfying because I have earned that knowledge. I did not get it as a free gift. And tomorrow, I want to work harder to keep learning.

I do not want to be a political symbol. I do not even understand politics. But if I can be an inspiration to my people and to others on the wonders of learning, of education and of believing in what is right, then I will continue to inspire. I will not rest. It is my goal in my life to be a doctor. One day, I will be one.

I ask for your support in making education possible for everyone, especially girls. It is girls who will bear the future generations. It is they who need to know the value and the glory of a good education.

We will achieve what is a God-given right that no one can deny us.

Thank you.

Bosnia Herzegovina

The airport was small, yet new and glistening tidy. The mid-morning sunlight shone through the boxy terminal building where we walked in right upon getting off from our short Austrian Airlines hop from Vienna. This was Sarajevo International Airport, Bosnia-Herzegovina. And my first time in a city that just about ten or twelve years ago was a riveting war zone, where massacres were taking place on a regular basis. 

NATO's withdrawal will not mean a peaceful Afghanistan

The New York Times reported on 30 March that as the date for foreign forces' withdrawal from Afghanistan draws nearer, the anxiety among Afghans has increased. During 2011, developed countries dealt with more than 30,400 asylum applications from Afghans, the highest number in ten years, and more than five times the number of applications in 2005.

Now imagine summer 2014. The Americans, along with the rest of NATO-led coalition forces, are no longer responsible for security in that godforsaken country. The Afghan security forces don't show any trend that would make them better than a joke in keeping the peace at that time. Pakistan will continue with its game, though this time perfectly on-stage rather than from behind the scene. Other regional players will step in... Will 2014 look similar to 1999? Quite possibly, except that this time the stakes will be much higher and the chess pieces more numerous and more fluid.

The Americans don't understand Afghanistan. The value they bring to the table has declined dramatically over the years, and with their purses empty, they will not bother to look at Afghanistan beyond the critical counter-terrorism prism. It makes sense for the US to withdraw. But those who think that America's presence in Afghanistan is a cause for the region's afflictions should think again. America's contribution is diminishing, but its absence will be a nightmare.

Pakistan, and most Pakistanis, feels that with the Americans gone, security will increase and the region's turmoil put to rest. Not likely. The Taliban will shower pride on the new feather in their hat that they survived the American onslaught for almost 13 years - that after the defeating the Soviets. A worthy note in anyone's CV, and certainly no reason to go back to the caves - sorry, I meant villages. The Taliban will want power... and more and more of it. They won't get it, and not just because of the Great Gamers Camp 2 (i.e. India, Iran and Russia). Afghanistan version 2.014 is a much more serious international agenda item, unlike Afghanistan version 1.999. A world power may have withdrawn its military, but not its attention, especially because Afghanistan's status as a terrorism breeding grounds has yet to subside.

What can be done? Pakistan needs to feel more of a stake in supporting an Afghanistan that is not entirely run by Pathans. The others need to accept that Pashtuns, being the largest ethnic group in the country, have to have a commensurate share in power. A solution? A weak, ethnically balanced and constitutionally-rotational central government, and more power to Afghan provincial systems, which will actually improve penetration and (fingers crossed) governance on the ground. Pakistan will be happy. The Americans happier since stronger localized setups will likely have a better chance in keeping out terrorists with international reach.

The No-Nation Theory

The Israeli leadership complains that the Palestinians refuse to recognize Israel as a "Jewish" state. The demographic threat, after all, is quite potent; the strategic environment threatening; and Israel's paranoia strong as ever. The Israelis want affirmations from the Palestinians that they recognize the Israeli state with that specific adjective, in order to take comfort from Palestinian acceptance of the nature of their country.

 But the Ps refuse. In Foreign Affairs Dec 2011 issue, there are three reasons listed why the Ps will never offer such a recognition: (1) it effectively invalidates the right of return, (2) it adversely affects the status of Palestinian citizens of Israel, and that it panders to the Zionist ideology. Beyond those three reasons, the Palestinians also contend that people who follow Judaism are not a distinct nation or people. The P National Charter originally stated that " Judaism, being a religion, is not an independent nationality. Nor do Jews constitute a single nation with an identity of its own; they are citizens of the states to which they belong." This comes from the Palestinians.

Pretty strong, right? And part of it does make sense. The Israelis rebut that its not merely religion, but their cultural identity that they wish to protect. Thats understandable too.

But here's my question: what would Jinnah think about this Palestinian rejection of identity based on religion? Lets think back to somewhere around March 23, 1940, Lahore. 

Strasbourg

On the trams of Strasbourg, the announcement on upcoming stops come in children's voices. Funny, charming and cute.

One day, the tables will turn

I was helpless. Each moment seemed as if the skies would open up with pouring rain and drown me in a sheet of thick, heavy water. Everywhere I turned, the gloom pervaded. The air was still. Several pairs of eyes looked at me from down below, waiting for me to realize that my time was up.

Except one. Those eyes locked in on me as if it didn't matter whether I lived, but that if I surrendered to what seemed to be an inevitability, I surely will end.

"Just continue working."

The storms hit with relentless ferocity and repeated urgency. Giant wallops landed on me, and several times I fell to the floor. But if I was going to be subsumed by this deluge, I might as well as depart with a straight face. I persevered.

It came. Like a new season. Slowly, but inevitably and undeniably.

My feet rose. My heart beat with a rhythm unbenownst to me hitherto. I started smiling effortlessly and without reason.

The convulsions that previously threatened to consume me suddenly lost their unworldly powers and crashed at my feet. My footsteps signalled promise, my voice echoed, my words hung in the air. The devils had seen me. And they had blinked.

Nothing lasts forever. One day, I will be crowned king!

.

How I Learned to Love the European Welfare State

Going Dutch - How I Learned to Love the European Welfare State. - NYTimes.com

As the healthcare reform debate has raged across the United States over the last several months, I can't help but wonder about the American psyche, the opposition, the very need for a debate. For something so basic, for a country that is the leader of Western democracies, for a nation so devoted to justice and equal rights for all... should there even be a question about this?

Even the Holy of the Holies?

One high-profile attack after another, all in a matter of days. Looks like Hakimullah Mehsud means business to the point that the days of battling Baitullah now seem like a kindergarten fight.

If General Headquarters can be attacked with such audacity as we just saw, you can forget about any inch of Pakistan qualifying as "secure." It seems that the shocks to our national psyche would not end anytime soon, as if sytematically calibrated by Divinity in whose name this entire bloody carnival is going on.

When the Sri Lankan cricket team, with its "head-of-state security protocol," was ambushed in the middle of Lahore, we consoled ourselves that a mere politically motivated transfer of a police official at the worst possible time opened an unfortunate gap for the militants to jab their fingers into. The escaping Sri Lankans took with them international cricket from Pakistan's stadiums for the forseeable future. Militants 1; Pakistanis 0.

The attack on the Manawan Policy Academy in Lahore landed as another punch to the guts. Things did not look good. The war was no longer in those Godforsaken tribal areas, which we could conveniently lump together with the even-more-Godforsaken Afghanistan. This battle was now being fought in the country's political and cultural heartland - if there ever was a Pakistan, it was in Lahore - and it was obvious that the Pakistani state was being washed away.

The Islamabad Frontier Constabulary Camp. The Jandola Fort. The United Nations compound in Islamabad. And now, this!

The attack on GHQ is over, but its effect will be longstanding. It opens possibilities that were previously ludicrous, and poses new questions about where the Pakistani nation could be headed:

1. The war against Islamist militants in Pakistan has reached the military's doorstep, quite literally. An assault on the Waziristans is inevitable now, along with a few other tribal areas thrown in. This not only means an eventual end to the political status of FATA, but it would also mark the turning point for the Pakistani army from an India-specific force to a counter-insurgency apparatus. Whether the army can go through this transformation smoothly is critical for the future of that country.

2. This is the moment of truth for Pakistan's ideology as an Islamic state. So far the government has desisted from demonizing the Islamist militants as it should have long ago soon after the first time Pakistani cities were targeted. But a direct attack on the military calls for a comprehensive and all-out strategy. Could this be the Ataturk moment of labeling every beard and burqa as anti-state? Could this push the government into actually taking control of every pulpit in mosques around the country, and rein in lay imams and religiously-inclined political parties from the incitement that has been their manifesto and rallying cry? In short, could this be the moment that takes religion out of Pakistan's political ethos? And if it is, what does that mean for the country that has since 1971 relied on its religious identity as its primary bulwark against further dissolution?

3. The threat of Islamist militants is dangerously real and uncomfortably close for the average Pakistani now. If GHQ can be penetrated, then the beardos with guns are already everywhere. It is too early to say, but such moments create public revulsion for those who threaten to upset the status quo, no matter how unsettling the status quo is. Almost everyone knows, including the religious parties, that the rise of Islamists is no Iranian Revolution, but simply a descent into chaos with no prospect of any recovery for many decades. If the population of the country starts becoming wary of the beardos, what does that mean for the nation's general parameters of political discourse? Would Pakistanis reflexively start moving to the left?

These are truly exciting times.

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When our beliefs were innocent...

I was surfing the net, avoiding the news from Pakistan, as usual. The TV was playing in the background with the usual bits about the Prime Minister speaking in English in interior Sindh, and I am thinking, why, oh why, is the world like this?

Suddenly I heard 'lab pe aati hai dua ban ke tamanna meri,' that poem by Iqbal which we all so proudly sang in school.

Such innocent words, that poem. And look where we stand today.

Where did that innocence in our beliefs go? When did we start becoming like this? Our Islam was a belief that the world can be a better place, that it will be a better place. It was an undying value system which allowed us to see the beauty in God's most sterling creation: mankind itself.

But somewhere, there were this other kind of Islam that was being nourished. An Islam based on hate, violence and intimidation. No one could possibly want it, or so it seemed.

Things look so much different today.

For what good?

"They fled through heat and rain...the dust of the caravans stretched low across the Indian plains and mingled with the scent of fear and sweat, human waste and putrifying bodies. When the cloud of hate subsided, the roll of the dead was called and five hundred thousand names echoed across the dazed land - dead of gunshot wounds, sword, dagger and knife slashes and others of epidemic diseases. While the largest number died of violence, there were tired gentle souls who looked across their plundered gardens and then lay down and died. For what good is life when reason stops and men run wild? Why pluck your baby from the spike or draw your lover from the murky well?"
- Donald F Ebright, "Free India: The First Five Years: An Account of the 1947 Riots, Relief and Rehabilitation"

Seriously, for what good?

Premonition

...
Said I one night to a pristine seer
(Who knew the secrets of whirling Time),
"Sir, you well perceive,
That goodness and faith,
Fidelity and love
Have all departed from this sorry land.
Father and son are at each other's throat;
Brother fights brother. Unity
and Federation are undermined.
Despite these ominous signs
Why has not Doomsday come?
Why does not the Last Trumpet sound?
Who holds the reins of the Final Catastrophe?"
...

- "Chirag-i-Dair" (excerpt)
Mirza Asadullah Khan Ghalib,
Benaras, 1827
(translated by Qurratulain Hyder)

God Protect You

You drive through the boulevards of Karachi's rich localities, passing a string of crore-rupee mansions. The houses on both sides are monstrous behemoths. Tall ionic columns appear to leap across from the boundary walls. Gold paint emblazons the balustrade and railings. Polished metal gates, marble-covered facades, mahagony window panes. Its clear that the vault had run out of space to store money, so no effort was spared to throw together an expensive concoction that is painful for any appreciative eye to bear. But suddenly, you notice an engraving on one side of the facade that reads in Arabic 'Mashallah.' You want to spit out the nausea that collected within you from taking a 10-second look at the house. But the 'Praise be to God' clamps down your throat and you wonder whether an expression of outrage would be noticed by the cemented calligraphy on the wall. You turn your face and walk away in disgust, only to see more replulsive architectural specimens adorned with the same flowery narcissist invocations to God. You wonder, could God be this immune to such horrific creations made by the hands of His ostensibly most genius product?

The 'Mashallah,' 'Subhanallah' and unending variations of God's name on flamboyant freak shows are not the evil warders that they are often claimed to be. They are an obtuse effort to make a critic subconsciously deflate his or her judgment and deflect the assessment to acknowledge the 'Divine Hand' in something as tasteless as what stands before you. Could you dare to criticise something that has Allah's name written all over it? If you do, then you are conveniently a heretic and not worthy of offering any opinion to begin with. If you dont, mission accomplished!

The next time you see God's name being utilized in the name of art, think whether the artistic creation really needed such an honour. Good art does not depend on praises to God; it instead harks to the inner soul lurking within you that God himself has so artistically concealed. Chances are that the art work enmeshed with cheap holiness is so terribly regular that only God's name can truly protect it from being thrashed into immediate oblivion.

"We'll Always Have Paris"

My legs moved with a sense of weightlessness; the heart confused whether it should rest with achievement or throb in excitement. My eyes looked deliriously at the unremarkable skylight roof of the train station, my head spinning between where I should go and where I was. For I was, finally, in Paris!

I will try not to adulate endlessly on the charms of Paris. But there is something about this city that has made me believe in the force of love at first sight. Is it the history? It was the center of imperial glory that mesmerized all of Europe throughout the late Middle Ages and the Napoleonic Era. Is it the architecture? The stonework on its churches, the sculptures on its landmarks and the melee of Corinthian Orders upon which rest some of its most spellbinding superstructures hit you with captivating aura. Is it the bewitching scent of fresh pastries and madeleines rolling out from hot ovens in enchanting little cafes tucked in every cobble-stoned street? I just can't take this anymore...

Train to Pakistan 1947 - 2007

Its been nearly 60 years since the horrific Partition, and we continue to live under its shadow - and burn in it.

One year ago, on February 18 2007, almost at the famous Midnight's Stroke to add insult to injury, 67 passengers on the Samjhauta Express were burned alive as fire broke out on two carriages rumbling on their way from Delhi to Lahore. Whether a terrorist attack or sabotage, people died not just because of the fire, but because India and Pakisan maximized the damage because they are so damn insecure about each other. No culprit has as yet been identified, let alone captured or brought to justice.

The world has moved on, we hear quite often. But India and Pakistan seem to have been trapped in a perpetual time warp. Many of the passengers could have been saved had the carriages on fire not been locked from outside and with wrought iron rods barricading the windows!

The rationale for the padlocks and window bars, you ask? We Indians and Pakistanis are so ridiculously paranoid about each other, we 'd rather that an accident trap passengers and take innocent lives than risk the danger of a loner trying to embark on or disembark from the train enroute. Forget the fact that the Samjhauta Express and its passengers go through unending scrutiny as they cross the international border.

The Samjhauta and Thar Express trains that run at erratic schedules between India and Pakistan are the sole means of transport between the two countries for the poor. For us previliged people, acquiring a visa is perhaps the only debilitating obstacle should we have the nerve to take a peep of what's across the border. Once we have a visa (whose application, of course, we have dutifully backed up with a brimming bank account and perhaps a high-up source or two), the elusive mysteries of India and Pakistan are a 45-minute airline flight away.

But for those who have to bleed to cough out a few thousand rupees for the battle with fate in getting a visa and bracing up for a struggle to get across Sir Cyril Radcliffe's Line, the trains are the only option. But we consider all that to be a bit too convenient for these poor people, so we lock them like cattle or corn in the bogeys and send them off in the stifling heat. After being harassed enough at immigration, the wretched beings are thrown about at the border crossing into another train (ahan, yes, we cannot trust train wheels that have touched the unholy soil of the other side to be free from threats to our national security). Finally, the ragbags are disgorged at Delhi or Lahore, from where they persist onto their final destinations.

Inhuman is an understatement to describe the process these passengers have to endure to travel to family who were lost to the other side through no fault of their own. The fight between India and Pakistan has always been more about prestige and self-respect than survival. Yet these two countries ensure that their paranoia of each other shower enough humiliation, and perhaps even fireballs, upon their poorest and most powerless people, and make life even more miserable for those who have nothing but misery to speak of.

After more than 60 long years, even saying "shame on us" sounds shameful.

For what...?

Pakistan, continuing a 17-year-old tradition, marked 'Kashmir Solidarity Day' today, 5 February. A few thoughts...

- What exactly did Pakistanis do, except lounge around at home, for the purposes meant behind this day?

- What are the purposes, explicit and implicit, official or otherwise, meant for this occassion anyway?

- Is there an alternative, perhaps more productive, more impacting and more introspective, that could help both us and the Kashmiris? I am thinking of not shutting down the entire country and not wasting billions of rupees worth of business, but instead running an awareness programme which, without fomenting hatred against India, explores how human rights and freedom of expression could be made better within Pakistan. I am sure that greater attachment to human dignity at home would automatically enkindle the Indians to do the same.

- Do the Kashmiris really care? They would care if it brings them any tangible good. Without that, its as good as someone watching bad news on TV and then changing the channel. In any case, for now there seems to be a growing realization along both sides of the LoC that the status quo shall inevitably attain permanency in the future, for better or worse.

- Even if they do care about us marking the Indian oppression visited upon them, would the Kashmiris really want to join Pakistan eventually? With the frequent suicide bombings in the name of religion across the country, the reality that Afghanistan's most lawless provinces are far more in physical unison with our territory than Kashmir ever could be, and the permanent political deadlock that we have reached on the questions of democracy and dictatorship, I dont think so.

- Do the Indians care? OK, I wasn't trying to be funny.

- Does the world care? I think Kashmir registered for a grand total of a few minutes on the international crisis radar back in 2002 when India and Pakistan were threatening to wipe each other out. Since then, the issue attracts probably as much attention as that Japanese whaling controversy. Seriously, did anyone see a whimper in any of the newspapers abroad? Even the Arabs seem to have grown tired.

So if nobody cares, and we waste so much of our precious resources for it, while we have so many other pressing matters to address, why, in the name of all that is reasonable, are we still sticking with this 5th of February drama?

World Capital

Is there any way to describe New York City? I should perhaps make it clear that I never was nor probably ever will be a big fan of this rotten, rat-infested fruit of a place. The aimless rush of life, the ear-busting noise and that rancid stench of urine and garbage trails along the sidewalks simply make it an unacceptable place for anyone half-civilized. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, in all my years of living here, I have yet to come across another person who shares my feelings for this city - my frank opinions are oftentimes met with stares, some of them a bit disparaging; if I am lucky, I can hope to get away with confounded looks or forced smiles as a response to such lunacy.

But over the past several months, I have come to discover something that may not necessarily help in my appreciating this city, but may help me in appreciating the fact that I am living here. It is quite certain that I do not intend to live in New York for all my life (or at least I have not as yet reached that point of enthrallment that afflicts so many of my 'New Yorker' friends and co-workers). But I cannot discount the fact that it was New York that thrusted the so-called 'real world' upon me with such thumping force and yet with such steely encouragement, I was swimming in its tempests even before I could shout out an SOS. And today, because of New York, I am probably capable of surving in any urban jungle that life throws at me.

New York is packed, true. New York is dirty, unbearably true. New York is rude, mostly true. New York is sinful, definitely true. But as my father recently uttered out of the blue after a trip to lower Manhattan, if there ever was an Eighth Wonder of the world, this City is it. With more restaurants than you could ever hope to dine in over a lifetime, with every inch occupied for a purpose than any miniaturist could ever imagine, with more nationalities fluttering about its boroughs than its own Midtown-based United Nations Headquarters could ever boast of, and with as much life streaming below its jam-packed surface as above it, this City is a true marvel.

It is an amazing engineering and organizational feat how this City is run. From the nightly garbage collection along its countless narrow streets and alleys to the logistics of funneling in and out millions of workers into a tiny island connected only by a handful of bridges and tunnels, a mere imagining of the administrative burdens this City has to bear can be bewildering. Yet, the City functions, day in and day out, with minor train delays, random traffic jams and an occassional accident. No amount of heat or rain, which sometimes last for days, overloads the City into a complete shutdown, something quite normally expected for a place functioning at such a high speed and with such precious resources, and it takes a full-fledged Nor'easter dumping 20 inches of snow to sufficiently freeze its spirit. A challenger to this Stunner is not within sight.

And even after the mammoth tragedy that this City has suffered, it has emerged more enigmatic, tolerant and universal than anywhere else in the rest of the world. It is as if the unexpected, the inspiring and the wonderful are all inherent in the soul of this City that grow stronger just when you think otherwise.

I may never fall in love with this City. I may want to move away at my next opportunity. I may never succeed in soaking my spirit in this City's colors. But I cannot ignore, let alone deny, the power, business, glamor and glory that is New York. And forever, it shall stay with me, this fact that at one point in my life I was among those who have been fortunate enough to call The Big Apple home.

The First Step

I have finally ventured into the world of blogging, without a clue if it is something I have a knack for.

I liked the idea surrounding a blog - personal thoughts on politics, religion, philosophy, strategy, life, family, food and travel for the world to read, consider and/or ridicule. I have heard that oftentimes the act of blogging leads one to become more open, more articulate and more confident over his/her thoughts, but sometimes also an exercise in futility to exhibit one's inner self to the outside world, only to end up with further commotions with those inadvertent or misinterpreted utterances. Frankly, I feel that the latter is more of a possibility for a person like me, hence the tepid excitement for this whole blogging enterprise. While there isn't a lava of feelings trapped inside me that this blog is going to help leak out, a lot of me does simply go unsaid, at least to those outside my immediate family and close circle of friends. And while this blog most certainly will not be bursting with my deepest headlines on a daily basis, it 'd be my aim to let out a few thoughts that may help in hinting at why I was staring at that empty can of coke in the subway car all the way to work this morning... just kidding, I promise not to be that boring.

But the more important question is not how much I let out, but what and whether I should let out. This blogging system is apparently advertised as a daily journal, but a daily journal cant just be a click away. And some of my true feelings on certain issues may carry some negative baggage, none of it deliberate. So I have decided to start easy - stay clear of the most controversial thoughts, but not shying away from what I truly believe in when I do happen to step on a political landmine. I am quite argumentative anyway, so most of the times it may be difficult for the reader (and even for my myself) to judge where exactly I stand.

I wish myself good luck.