Fauzia Burke of FSB Associates, gave a superb talk on On-Line Marketing
4 DESIGN TIPS
First impressions are made in one-tenth of a second.
Yesterday was Mothers Day. My son called me at 8:00 am, “Happy Mothers Day, Mom.” Relishing the moment, and robotically programmed, I reached out to call Mummy. Then stopped. She won’t take my call. Her phone is cut off. She doesn’t live there anymore.
Mummy stopped talking to me two years ago.
The phone rang. I woke up with a start and looked at the clock. 3:00 a.m.
Remember the feeling!
Terror: ‘Please God, let it not be bad news.’
Hesitation: ‘I am afraid to answer the phone’.
‘Sorry, wrong number’.
I must have laughed the hardest as Wajahat Ali made InshAllah jokes at the MUBANY gala (Muslim Bar Association of NY) last week, and I exhaled decades of pent-up exasperation. If you were there, I was the woman at the front table, laughing long after everyone else had stopped, causing heads to turn. Sadly, it wasn’t my looks.
Before I explain, let me first apologize.
An evening with Gloria Steinem
I didn’t expect Gloria Steinem to talk about violence; well, I sort of did, but only in the context of domestic violence. But police violence, wars, & terrorism?
What did she just say?
On the street corner with Gloria Steinem
“At my age, most people are dead,” she said to a thunderous applause. “I am 82.”
Gasp!
You just took another look at that photo, didn’t you?
I had walked out of the 900-seat auditorium, wishing I could have seen her a little closer. And who do I run into at the street corner!
Is she pretty? Is he tall?
While in Pakistan, I was hanging out with friends when her phone rang. She excused herself and returning, apologized:
Matchmaker (MM): Sorry, it was a rishta call.
Me: What do you mean rishta call? [Rishta is ‘match' in Urdu]
MM: I am a matchmaker.
Mummy never left me;
She smiles at me through the framed photo on my shelf;
She watches me through my grandson Omar’s oval eyes;
I feel her hair when my granddaughter Asha brushes against my cheek;
Only last week: Jash-e-Baharan in the park
Saba Masood was marked safe in Lahore’, flashed on my Facebook.
Another earthquake?
My fingers got ahead of me as I pulled up the news. A bomb blast had killed dozens in a park where Christians were celebrating Easter.
I was just there—in Lahore. I was in the parks,
A man is executed for murder. Some believe that justice was served; others memorialized a hero. What no one disputed was that he had pulled the trigger. I am beyond disbelief that the act of murder is debatable.
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