No, I will not let you frisk me at the door of a temple.

One of my favourite places to go to in Karachi is the Ratneshwar Mahadev Temple at the forefront of Ibn-e-Qasim park, near Park Towers. My first visit there must have been some time in 2003, when I came to Karachi, preparing for college admission tests. The temple does not allow anybody but Hindus to enter the premises, and more often than not, they require each entering Hindu to chant the “lord’s name” by saying “Jai Shankar” at the entry. Although, I personally objected to the policy, but did not bother to rail against it, or do something substantive about it and I would admit to – and I know many others who have done it also – have sneaked in friends from different faiths to visit the temple and take a look at this cultural treasure of Karachi.

But what happened today crossed some threshold. They had an unarmed, un-uniformed guard at the entrance who demanded to frisk me before entrance and I refused. I was frustrated but managed not to be angry at this guard and did not get into a winded argument with him and motioned my friends – who had previously been frisked before me – to go on and decided to wait outside the temple.

I understand the mentality of fear and the paranoia that a Hindu temple in Pakistan would bring in itself. But I object to it. I object to offer prayers at a temple under fear, or any notion of it. I object to the prospect of being demanded an even higher scrutiny to enter in future. It is frisking today, tomorrow, they would stop allowing stags without families to enter (as so many other public places already do in Karachi). I object to give in to this ever increasing paranoia that eats on itself.

I have been frisked at plenty of occasions. Apparently that is the cost of air-travel almost everywhere now, especially being a Pakistani. But I object to be frisked to enter in a place of worship. Temples should be open for all. They should be places of cohesion, not division. They should invoke peace, not fear. They should invite dignity, not the humiliation that a physical frisking brings with itself.

Hence I object.

Admission Process for Masters at an engineering university in USA

In 2005, when I was beginning third year of my undergraduate in Telecommunication Engineering at FAST-NU, I had decided to pursue a Masters degree in engineering in USA. I was not sure precisely what the Masters would be in, but I left that to my still developing interests in various areas in University and hoped that with time that will be decided.

My first step was to go to University rankings and individual university websites to get an idea of what the program offerings were. Most of the engineering  programs that I was looking at offered a MEng (Master of Engineering program) or an M.S. (Master of Science) program. MEng program is usually a terminal, course-work oriented program, while M.S. tends to be a mix of coursework and research projects and can lead to a Ph.D if pursued. I came up with a list of schools that I was interested this list was very short to begin with, some 2-3 schools only.

The second step was to prepare for and appear in GRE and TOEFL examinations. Both of these exams are almost compulsory if one needs to seek admission in US. Students who wish to go for Masters at the end of their Bachelors should start preparing for both of these no later than middle of third year, and earlier in some cases. I started preparing for GRE at the end of third year, during the summer vacations by taking a course at The Princeton Review’s Clifton/DHA, Karachi campus here. I have known people who do not take any classes and do well on GRE, but in my particular case, I felt that a structured course that deals with solving problems at a faster pace would be helpful for me.

The third major step was to write my admission essays and seek recommendations from teachers at University. My admissions essays went through couple of drafts and some 4-5 reviewers (mostly my friends and one teacher) provided feedback on everything: ideas, grammar, organization, cohesion. The referees requested a few points that I wanted them to emphasize and I was happy to provide that, however one referee made it clear that he would not use a customized recommendations, but instead go with his template.

During my final year, I became more interested in Wireless Communication as a possible area of further studies because of projects at University and decided to pursue a M.S. in Electrical Engineering with emphasis on Wireless Communication. When the time for Fall 2007 applications came, however, I only applied to one M.S. program at UC Berkeley.  This was a major mistake on my part, because I went against the advice of applying to at least 3-4 schools and Berkeley was a high-ranked low-selection school. I ended up wasting an entire year and was rejected. After much prodding the people in the admissions at EECS, they revealed that my GRE score was deemed inadequate for admission at highly-selective Berkeley. Another factor, which was not communicated explicitly could have been was that a public research school like Berkeley typically looks for people having had strong research experience (in the form of publications) and students who wish to continue towards a Ph.D. Both of these were gaping holes in my profile and application essays respectively.

After further editing on the essays and requested another referee for writing a recommendation, I applied for Fulbright MS Scholarship administered by USEFP in Pakistan. The deadline for Fall 2008 application was in April 2007. During the summer, I heard from them that I was short-listed for an interview and by mid-September,  I was selected and was invited to submit a list of universities where I was interested in applying. USEFP takes care of applications on your behalf, but they decided against any and all of my choices and instead applied to four universities that I had not requested at all. One of them was University of Illinois, Urbana-Champaign, which was of course a good match and I wished that I get in there. And it happened, I was admitted there.

My visa arrival took more than three months due to “administrative processing” and I arrived to attend the University after the classes had begun in Fall 2008, after two weeks. I completed the program in May 2010 and returned to Pakistan to fulfil the home-residency requirement of Fulbright program to spend two years back home.

If you any specific queries regarding my experience or are looking for specific advice, feel free to ask in the comments below or email me at gopchandani – at – gmail –  dot – com

 

I wish.

I wish,

I had more control on space and time.

So my words could mean something more.

Than hollow fantasies, and empty, bottomless, ideas.

 

I wish,

My words were more precise,

And sharp like crystal,

And comprehensive enough, to show,

I care.

 

I wish,

That I had the power to translate my words,

In to actions, so they could not be confused,

With wide swath of vagueness.

 

I wish.

I am hopeful and I am afraid.

I am hopeful and,

I am afraid.

…

I know how to bring about the change,

How to rally masses.

How to transform politics,

Of this land. Yes, I do, Sir.

…

What I don’t know is,

How to quench my own fears,

How to stay alive, when shot at,

How to control the anger in the face of a senseless argument.

…

What I don’t know,

Is how to show others, what I see.

The deep-rooted optimism in my country.

…

The resilience of its farmer,

It’s rickshaw-driver.

The optimism of its beggars,

…

That there are better days ahead.

Not even ambivalent.

When he died.

He, the murderer of thousands,

He, who made terrorizing sound like a hobby,

I am positive, that I was not ambivalent.

I actually felt bad.

Felt bad, for the pain he had to go through, in those last moments.

Felt bad for his kids, wives and family.

His mother and father, who brought him to this world.

I envy you.

I envy you oh young Egyptian!

Who cleaned the Tahrir Square,

While protesting, side-by-side,

With his fellow Egyptians.

…

I envy you because,

You have found your reawakening today,

You have owned the Earth,

You live on.

…

I envy you, because,

My earth is still owner-less.

For, my masters, like your masters,

Are equally unaware,

Of the power their public holds.

…

I envy you because,

I don’t have my reawakening yet.

For, I don’t have the revolution,

That will bring light to my people,

and to my land.

…

In the land of extremes…

In the land of extremes,
No voices are heard,
No opinions are measured,
It all just sounds like:
White-noise.

In the land of extremes,
The liberal waits for,
The government,
To feed the poor,
And the poor, never gets fed.

In the land of extremes,
The conservatives just awaits,
The shiny day, when business will boom.
The liberals are the problem, they say.

In the land of extremes,
Sufis dwell on their quest,
And become somewhat inert,
Hence irrelevant.

Where did the pragmatist go?
What happened to,
Choosing ‘a’ solution and,
Moving on…
In the land of extremes.

There will be blood.

When you speak your mind,
and enunciate reason,
There will be blood.

When you bomb the tyrant,
and take life out of collateral,
There will be blood.

Seems that blood has a chain,
It never sheds in episodes,
that are singular.

Why kill a human being?
Just, doesn’t make any sense.
How could he?

How could he,
take out 40 bullets,
and burst them into that man?

Without flinching,
thinking twice, doubting,
what he understood of him.

How could he?
How could he not realize,
that there will be blood.

The World that I live in.

I live in a world,
Where people can kill people,
And manage not to look back
Or down at it.

Where there is too much self-depracation,
And an identity crisis of some sort,
It is as if, the people have no root–
or a center of mass?

They are lying around,
living by, surviving,
non-chalantly,
without standing for something real.

They are bothered, but choose not to act.
It makes me afraid, what shall happen,
If I became one with them.

Of course, I am one of them.
I came from this land, this earth filled with love.
I don’t know happened to this place,
in couple of hundred years.

Some say, let it be.
I just can’t. I am designed the other way.
I either have to fix it, or…
Or abandon it.

–

Leaving… Leaving for good. (Freewriting)

So I am leaving…

Leaving for good.

Look forward to the greasy food,

That my Mom shall prepare.

–

I am leaving,

Leaving companionships on a pause,

Hoping I’d come across,

All the treasures that I have collected in friends

–

I am leaving for a higher purpose, a greater good,

So, I keep telling myself.

Try not listen to cynicism,

Working  to protect my “self”.

–