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Farooq Khan's blogs exist here. Be nice to them.

Me at a Friend's Wedding...helping out.  No, I do not have a penchant for cleaning.  You should see my room.

Warts of Quartz     By  Farooq S. Khan   6/20/2004

When someone said, 'Farooq! You got warts all over your face!'.
Me: "Uh...they're quality warts. Yeah, like quartz crystals."


Warts of quartz, they come all over my face
Yellow and white, they race for space
Redness conceives them, time turns them pale
Globules of pus, they break open with such grace

Warts of quartz, they're all over my face
They come in succession, old ones they replace
Even in deep sleep, they are still awake
In night's darkness they burst, glazing my pillowcase

Warts of quartz, they have no cure but many names
My doctor calls them acne, he prescribes me some pills
My friend pops them with a pin, he calls them dirty zits
My mom thinks they happen because I eat too much Twix

O Warts of quartz, you are a menace to my skin,
You are regions of rash, itch and prickly pain
A subject of my poem, you are not a sign of my embrace
You have overstayed your welcome, now kindly leave my face


Dead man dreams     By  Farooq S. Khan   4/23/2004


Dead man dreams

The wailing of my dead soul
in this poem you’ll find,
Once again I yearn to feel
the oft denied taste of life:
I yearn to hold in one hand
the other hand of mine
Interlock the fingers, feel my palms
warm and moist,
I yearn the feeling of touch
on these soft lips of mine,
And feel the warm breath
that comes from my sighs,
I yearn to feel the soft skin
on this fair face of mine,
To feel alive for a moment,
To savor the endless flow of time,
I yearn to browse my fingers
through the wavy hair of mine,
And to hold my head by it's temples
and stare deep into my eyes,
And whisper in my ears
what I rehearsed till now
in my mind:
You are Mine, sweet darling;
Your everything is mine
Your hands, your head and the lips
and the sighs,
And the face and the hair and your
ears and your eyes,
Are all mine, all mine!
I still yearn to feel
this denied taste of life
f.k.



Tick-Tock, time goes by     By  Farooq S. Khan   4/21/2004


Thousands of nights
I've stayed awake
for a moonlit night
to see,
But lying in wait
was a murky old cloud,
to shroud the moonlight
from me

Thousands of days
I've sat by the window
for a moment of sunshine
to see,
But pasturing the sky was
a darker, greyer cloud
To eclipse the sun’s light
from me

Thousands of hours
I've rocked on the porch
to feel the caress
of a windy breeze
But every zephyr
that rustled the leaves
Would subside before
reaching me

Thousands of years
I’ve spent in bondage
of my melancholy and
your memories,
Cruel Master, you have
my mind in shackles,
But in my mind, I've never
been more free
f.k.


Resistance is sublime     By  Farooq S. Khan   4/17/2004

Rantissi
Acceptance is submission
Resistance is sublime
Except when acceptance
is for an Islamic Palestine
Every Ghazi of Al Quds,
and every Aqsa's devotee
Cherishes the life of Yassin
and the martyrdom of Rantissi
The Blood of your sacrifice
soaks the soil of Gaza;
It humbles the Wine of Paradise
It brings envy to the sands of Hijaz
f.k.

Abdel Aziz Rantissi shaheed


Heart -- when qalbun saleem cannot be     By  Farooq S. Khan   4/16/2004

The khateeb said today, everytime we hurt ourselves physically, it's God's way to emancipate our suffering in the Hereafter.

The Prophet (peace & blessings of Allah be upon him) is reported to have said:
"No Muslim is afflicted by a harm, be it the pricking of a
thorn or something more (painful than that), but Allah thereby causes
his sins to fall away..."



If wounds are, as was said in the sermon,
An emancipation of our sins
Then for a heart that in love is broken,
What verdict shall it's soul win ?
The pain will not subdue,
The scars marked for all time,
O Knower of the hearts, tell me
Is sin-free this soul of mine ?

fk

My thoughts on Brain Drain of the Muslim world     By  Farooq S. Khan   4/06/2004

It was calculated, it was strategized. It was planned and laid out ahead of time. It happened. It was realized.

The brain drain of the Muslim world, in my opinion-- take it or not, is something that was planned with tremendous intellect and tactical insight. In my opinion, it is the fruitful result of years of planning by Western think-tanks on how to manage world's intellectual manpower to benefit American interests. These are the sort of think tanks that work with the State Department, coming up with NSN and NSSN national security policies whose outlook on world is that it's nothing more than America's trampling ground, speckled with patches of non-resourceful humans roaming around here and there.

Yes, once again, the white man has duped us. And we fell for it. By we and us, I'm referring to the migrants of the Eastern world, who came to the Americas seeking enlightenment and opportunities, not quite expecting to find themselves driving cabs and flipping burgers. A University of Toronto professor has described this as 'Brain Waste' for Canada, and largely, for the Western world.

But what does this translate into for the Muslim world ? It's called 'Brain Drain'. Not like, Dude-I-think-I'm-having-a-brain-drain-with-all-this-studying-and-i-cannot-understand-ne-more-algebra kind of a brain drain. No, it's a much bigger problem, happening at a macro level. It is a process. It is the deprivation of a country's intellectual resources, an expatriation of it's thinkers and professionals, resulting in downright creation of a resource hollow in the country's various infrastructures. When educated people leave their communities en masse, ignorant, unqualified and often corrupt groups start moving up the management ladder of that country's operations.

Vying to get away from bureaucratic corruption, the ethical and educated seek opportunities abroad, usually in the Western world. What little thinkers and professionals were produced are no more. Their emigration creates more room for unqualified workers to fluorish. By this time, a slow process of self-sustained uncreation has started taking place, and it does not require any external catalysis. The worst fears of a country are come true.

The situation described above is typically true of Pakistan. Over the years, many doctors, engineers, professors, surgeons, economists, and investers, etc. have left the country. The beneficiaries of their services are left without help. Major sectors of country's infrastructure, such as health, education, research, development, production and industrialization have become bereft of checks and balances and direction. It becomes a loose-loose situation for the Muslim world.

The first loss is to the nation that looses it's highly intellectual and skilled force as it moves out. The brain drain. The second loss is to this migrating community which arrives in foreign lands, only to find themselves in a professional quagmire. Brain waste. Globalization attempts by the West and the pursuit of junk and corrupt lifestyles in the East further benumb developing minds at home country, exposing them to little opportunities for character or professional development.

Clearly today, more than at any point in history, the Pakistani people are in need of a solution to this problem. Turning for guidance to authentic Islamic history, we see that Prophet (SAW) and the caliphs strategized distribution of skilled people when journeys or battles took place. That way, a community would not become deplete of useful human resources. The emancipation of prisoners of war was that they'd teach Muslim youth how to read and write. If Huffaz were few in number, technologies were accelerated to preserve onto paper what they had in their minds.

Tactical thinking like above is ever applicable today. The solution to the brain drain of the Muslim world is to develop grassroots techniques that would bring attitudinal changes to our youth. To stimulate their minds in infancy and to teach them pride in their identity, so they don't look up to foreign societies for enlightenment. It is to convince the would-be migrants that their knowledge is valuable and their services are needed at home. Only with such foundational changes can we reverse the brain drain of the Islamic world.

McMaster Engineering Convocation Day Pics     By  Farooq S. Khan   4/05/2004

Two pics I stumbled upon while taking a walk down the memory lane:


(L-R): Hamza, Ali, Abdus Samad, Farooq, Rubaid and Farhan

Due to the uneven surface we're standing upon, Farhan kinda appears taller than the rest of us. But trust me, he is not. Rubaid was a close yaar. We spent many a night engaged in studies, movies, and oh, mamdouh's.


(L-R): Junaid, Farooq, Hamza, Abdus Samad

Junaid was my roommie. The other two, i don't know... they sort of crashed over when their car would not start up or when they needed links to some assignment, etc. (lol) I miss the good times...

Urdu two-liners.     By  Farooq S. Khan   4/03/2004

I have to confess: I've never done this before. I've heard of friends who do. Following is my composition. If you like it, let me know. If you want to know what it's saying, let me know.

Zakhm e furqat ab bhi taza hay,
Marham e waqt ko aur waqt chahieay


Shikwae yaar keh mujh ko zouqe shaeri o kalam na naseeb hua,
Maidaan-e ishq men naya hun, pehlee shikast nahee naseeb hui

Poem.... a sad time in my life.     By  Farooq S. Khan   

Eyes met for a time ephemeral,
Mind preserved your visage for eternities,
The moment seemed so benevolent,
I could pray for all of humanity's needs
You approached some closer, our gazes still intact
Time came to a halt between us, my heart beats couldn't transact
At this splice of time Farooq praised as follows her glory:
The ground that you walk upon,
    it's pebbles I yearn to be,

Then a strange turn of events, call it destiny unkind,
You came closer still, but a fabrication of my mind,
Inanimate I so became that you starkly walked past
   to reach,
Your lover waiting for you,
While my presence you breached with ease

My grievance if you could listen,
    is not why you love him more than me,
Whom to befriend is your decision, but why so prudent towards me
True, I may not be a baller nor sit at council's seat,
But in a field where hearts are played, Cupid's envy I often be
Iqbal too wrote the Shikwa, but my distress is more profound:
He had an answer for it ready; Where will my Jawabe Shikwa be found ?

If only you'd acknowledged me, then walked past just the same,
Maybe said: Wa'alaikum us Salam; a rewarding way to reciprocate,
Alas! The memories you've left behind brought false joys
    and made me a sorrower
Still they're fond memories because of you, and the heart too
    is their follower
The only thoughts that I reminisce to comfort this wounded soul
    in night's solitude,
Is that eternal moment when you dismissed me, walking past
    as I plainly there stood

Watch this...     By  Farooq S. Khan   1/18/2004

Black and White Water cooler drama (flash animation)

McMaster University Engineering Electrical Computer Farooq Khan Mississauga Toronto Canada Muslim Students Association
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