
A Pulse Is Not a Life
Every six months, the state asks a retired clerk to prove that he is alive. It does not mean this unkindly. Somewhere in Islamabad a ledger has to…

Every six months, the state asks a retired clerk to prove that he is alive. It does not mean this unkindly. Somewhere in Islamabad a ledger has to…

By Sheikh Abdul Rashid It is November 1957, and Albert Camus has just won the Nobel Prize in Literature. The announcement is a month…

In Japan there is an art called kintsugi. When a fine ceramic bowl shatters, no one throws it away. Instead, the fragments are rejoined…

Human civilization has spent millennia perfecting the architecture of accountability. We build our courts behind walls of dressed stone and marble, framing them with…

There’s an old trick governments in poor countries never seem to tire of: when you can’t afford to fix a problem, you open an…

The sun took its time setting over the gardens of Jati Umra that evening, as though it wanted to watch a little longer. A…

Pakistan’s youth are, in equal measure, the country’s greatest asset and its most urgent unanswered question. Today they stand at a fork in the…

When Sir Syed Ahmed Khan, with his visionary eloquence, likened Gujrat to a ‘Hellenic region’, it was neither a mere geographical compliment nor a…

In the relentless march of the twenty-first century, modern academia often risks losing its spiritual compass, reducing institutions of higher learning to sterile factories…

By: Sheikh Abdul Rashid When the Great Library of Alexandria was engulfed in flames, history records that scholars and scribes cast themselves directly into…