|
Each
time I travel back to my land of birth (Pakistan), I have to convince my
Western-oriented children that we’re headed back home and not back in
time. Being prisoners of
media hype, they’re convinced that they are going to an uncivilized
place where water is undrinkable (ironical these days), the system doesn’t
work and horror of horrors, technology stems from the dark ages.
Having
lived in Canada for over a decade, I must admit that I too had become
slave to technology. My shoulders stiff with stress, arms hurting
from typing at the keyboard, I’ve become a virtual friend and
correspondent. I participate in debates and questions about faith and
technology and confess that sometimes I too am baffled by them. For many
young Muslims like my kids, the questions range from why moon sighting
is still dependent on the human eye to why prayers can’t be offered
virtually.
This
year as my children and I visited Pakistan, it seemed that many of these
questions were automatically answered for us. Arriving into an inferno
of humanity, the first sound we heard was the early morning call to
prayer from the minaret of mosques along the way home. My kids
were amazed at the resonance of the human voice as compared to the tape
we play here in Canada, and hordes of people of all ages, thronging
towards mosques at this early hour of dawn.
My
first few days back, I was still in high-stress mode wanting to finish
shopping by mid-morning when I was forced to sit back, have a few cups
of tea and accept that shops don’t even open till 11, which is so
uncivilized but extremely relaxing. At my bank, the old man behind the
counter spent 15 minutes finding my name in a ledger, recognized me, sat
me down and asked about family over two
cups of tea and finally realized
I was there for business. There were funny incidents like the time my
son decided to speak the language and went to buy a drink. The
shopkeeper practicing his English asked if my son wanted it in a bag.
Yes said the boy, and came out of the shop carrying a plastic bag with a
cold drink in it, neatly tied with a rubber band and straw sticking out.
The entire market, including the beggars rolled over in laughter at the
look on my son's face and he suddenly had a dozen new friends teaching
him the language and offering him real drinks in a bottle.
At
my sister's house the closest computers were at an office an hour away,
telephones worked irregularly, running water water was available only
till 9 am and the electricity supply ebbed and waned with a mind of
it’s own.
However, the human element was overwhelming. As neighbors heard of our
arrival, food and special goodies arrived in abundance and people
dropped in at all hours of the day. - without telephoning in advance.
Such bad manners, but we loved it!
My kids learnt to make intelligent
conversation other than the glazed look and dead tone they have after a
few hours on the computer. They learnt to conserve water by taking baths
from a bucket and when the lights went out all of us sat in the garden
feeling the fresh dew with our bare feet and enjoying a new moon in a
clear sky. If we were lucky we heard the early morning rooster crowing
and caught the milkman on his milk delivery, always ready to tell us
about his life.
This
was the point at which it dawned on me and I was able to tell my kids
that the reason we still follow many old traditions, is so that we
don’t lose the human touch and become totally dependent on machines. When
the new moon is sighted, especially for important months like Ramadan,
children visit their elders and wish them. Elders in return reward the
kids with candy and money and so the tradition has continued for
hundreds of years. Similarly the call to prayer, which can easily be
computerized or taped, is still articulated by a person as it was done
1400 years ago and the mosque remains a place for both spiritual and
social interaction.
One
reason I had gone home was because my young cousin is in the last stages
of liver cancer and I wanted to see him. We thought he would be in
isolation in the hospital but were pleasantly surprised to see that he
had decided to spend his last days sitting in the lounge of his
brother’s house with an open invitation for anyone and everyone to
visit all day long. As a result people dropped in with herbs, prayers,
spiritual messages and loads of love. I spent quality time with him,
alternately crying and laughing as we talked of our childhood. This was
an awesome experience for my kids who willingly spent a lot of time with
my cousin hearing him talk openly about life, death and family ties.
We’ve
brought back something valuable - a new confidence and a respect for
human interaction. We realize that while technology can fulfill
our material needs, it can never satisfy the yearning of the soul. We
reach out much more and open our hearts and souls to more people. It’s
a rejuvenating experience and for a while at least, we’ve regained the
human touch.
|
