Salute to a person I never met but heard all the wonderful stories about. Who gave up his glorious career to serve the poor and needy, trying to create affordable healthcare system started a hospital from his life savings. My friend Quraishi Ilmana lost her husband Doctor Fasih, working day and night, treating Covid patients in Karachi.
“Salam” Nahin hota asaan Sab kuch chhor Kisi nayee jagah Pher se ghar basaana Nahin hota saan Sab kuch chhor Nishchhal man se “Taj” ka sapna sajaana Nahin hota asaan Parivar se reh door Nirbal ka sambal banna Pher yeh sab ker dikhaya Tum ne “Fasih” Kunke tumhe mila Ilmana, Fatima aur Ismail ka sahara Aaj nahin ho tum yahan Per jo dekha sapna Khuli aankhon se tumne Usne anekon ka ghar jilaaya Nahin hota asaan Achaanak sir se nek saaye Ka youn hi chale jaana Ishwar ko bhi shaayad Zaroorat hogi tumhari. Om Shanti ~Poonam Jain Kasliwal
He breathed his last on 26th June 2020 after battling COVID for 5 days in ICU. He has always been a warrior and proved it again on his last journey. He was serving his patients till the last minute of his practice when he was forcibly shifted to the hospital after having uneasy breathe. He probably contracted multiple infections and finally succumbed to COVID. I knew Dr. Fasih for more than 30 years. He was not only my Brother-in-law (married my sister Dr. Ilmana Quraishi in Delhi) but was great friend and an elder brother; and an advisor and ‘Father-like’ figure.
History has repeated again. I lost my father in 1998 (Professor Zaheer Masood Quraishi) when we (I and my twin brother Subhi) were still studying in Moscow. We immediately came back to India. Losing one’s father is one of the most difficult things of life. At that time, Dr. Fasih and my sister (Dr. Ilmana) were serving in Saudi Arabia as medical doctors and were living a lavish life. Then Dr. Fasih with my sister came down to India to console us. He stayed with us for more than a month, sacrificing his work and vacations, just to ensure that we come back to normalcy. After losing my father, I found a father-like figure in Dr. Fasih. He guided us how to rebuild a new life in India. And soon we found a new mission, ZMQ (as a tribute to our father), to develop technologies for poor and marginalized communities in India. But this is a different story.
For all these years, we stayed very close to Dr. Fasih. He guided us and loved us. While serving in Saudi Arabia, he religiously attended all our family functions in India – marriages, births and other celebrations without missing a single event. In all those functions, he played the role of my FATHER. In 2010, my sister (Dr.Ilmana) moved to Toronto, Canada to secure the future of her children. To support his family financially, Dr. Fasih stayed back in Saudi Arabia. But it was not for long. He had a mission. In 2013, Dr. Fasih gave up all the comforts of his life to come back to his home town, Karachi, to set up a model of excellence – ‘An Affordable Healthcare System for All’ by setting up ‘TAJ Consultants Clinic’ (named after his mother Late Syeda TAJ-unnisa, as a tribute to her) to serve the marginalized and under-privileged communities. He used all his personal life-savings to build this beautiful hospital. Living in a system, which demanded bribes at every step for approvals, he fought corruption at every step to save every single penny to benefit the marginalized. Living an affluent life in Saudi Arabia with posh cars, he just managed to buy a modest car in 2019, 6 years after his return to his home town.
Dr. Fasih was not an Ashoka Fellow. Neither was he a Schwab nor a Skoll Fellow. Probably, he never understood these terms. But he very well understood his mission – to create a sustainable healthcare model to serve poorest of the poor communities on ethical values. Even while working in the Royal hospital in Saudi Arabia, more than 50% of Dr. Fasih’s patients were poor and illegal workers whom he served for free. He was an extremely loving and caring person, who was ready to help anyone anywhere anytime. Just before COVID engulfed South Asia, in early March, he came to Toronto to see his family. I met him last time in Toronto on 16th March 2020 before I came back to India. Soon he was stuck up in the lock-down. As COVID started spreading in South Asia, his patients in Karachi started calling him day-in and day-out. He became restless. Finally in mid of May, before Eid, he took a special chartered flight and returned to Karachi. Since then he started working more than 16 hours a day and serving over 100 patients.
Dr. Fasih was a fearless and an upright professional. He was a sportsperson and physically very fit with no co-morbidity. He would have never died because of heart attack or being bedridden due to any other disease. But everyone has to die one day. It must have been a challenge for God as to find a reason to snatch Dr. Fasih from us. And COVID infection was an excuse for God to take him away. The world lost a committed and caring doctor serving humanity at this crucial time of pandemic. And I lost my Father again! But he is indeed a Warrior and a Martyr who will remain forever in the hearts of his family members, friends, colleagues and his patients. What more one can wish for – To live like Dr. Syed Fasihuddin and also to die like Dr. Syed Fasihuddin. I love you Bobby Bhai. I will always miss you !
~ Hilmi Quraishi Ashoka Fellow, Globalizer Founder ZMQ Global
Aah it was a 36 years of friendship in total with 30 years of marital association of two people of opposite personalities. Fasih was quiet, gentle yet nerves of steel, living in the moment and a fearless risk taker. And despite being not too talkative, he was a people’s person, and a helper. I am, as always expressive, explosive, yet a loner, super cautious bordering to being fearful, never living or enjoying the present, mind always planning 5 years ahead. Yet for some weird reason we clicked very well. And clicked so much that both of us did not need to change our personalities. I learned from Fasih how to give space to the other partner. He let me be me and certainly wanted me to let him be him. But the fearless risktaker that he was, I tried my best to be a check on him. But I always failed. And he always proved me wrong.
Whether it was his decision to marry an Indian and the practical challenges related to it. (This is another story, that deserves another memoir). Or refusing to hand over his wallet on gunpoint at Sharei Faisal( Karachi) traffick jam in rain and handing that boy a brown envelope with patties saying, “I don’t keep wallet, eat this it must be hard work as there are so many cars.” The guy remarked, “Fauji lagtey ho is liye itni himmat dikha rahe ho.”(You look an armed forces man and hence being so daring). And the boy walked to the next car. Or whenever we travelled, which were very frequent, he would leave at the nick of time, despite my cries to keep some margin of time, speeding to reach on time. Once when we were travelling from Makkah to Jeddah airport to catch PIA flight for Karachi, the car’s tyre burst and we ended up reaching airport 2 hours late when the counter was closed and they were wrapping the list. Fasih went straight to the manager desk, who was Manzoor Junior ( A Pakistani Hockey Olympian). He was very angry. Fasih said, “Sir tyre got burst.” He replied, “Yes this is an old excuse.” He was not in a mood to listen to Fasih’s pleas. He then touched the chin of Manzoor Sb, “Sir aap hockey bahut achi kheltey the.”(Sir you played awesome hockey.) Manzoor SB got even angrier and yet said, “No. Sorry.” Fasih them told him, “Sir aap tou 1984 olympic team ke captain they. Sir, gold medal bhi mila tha….”(Sir you were the captain of 1984 Olympic Team. You even got the Gold Medal). Manzoor Junior laughed and told his staff….“Inko toilet ke pass wali jo khali seat hai woh issue ker do. Family for peeche wali row de dou.” (Give him the empty seat near toilet and the row behind to the family).
I wanted to travel Egypt, as it from his Egyptian experience and stay that inspired my father to name me Ilmana. Fasih suggested we drive by car all along River Nile from Luxor to Alexandria in Egypt, even though there were some news Muslim Brotherhood’s recent surgence in Upper Egypt in 1996/1997. I dreaded and he said, “With two toddlers car journey is the safest journey.” In the area of Asyut, half way through, the Egyptian Army stopped us. “Pakistani?What are you doing here?” Fasih replied, “Long drive along Nile al Gameel.” (River Nile, the beautiful) The armed forces guys were so cordial, they drove ahead of us all along 1200km or more, proudly stopping to show us the historical points. And Fasih said, “See we have free guides. You just fear for no reason.”
Todlers in Luxor Temple in January 1997
Or when he gave up his lucrative job abroad to build a hospital in Karachi Pakistan, when target killing of doctors were at its peak in the city. I lived those years with my heart in my throat. I owe this to one of his politician friends who suggested to him, “Fasih bhai at least in haalaat mein bachon ko tou mut Karachi laao.”(Fasih bhai at least in these risky times dont bring your kids to Karachi). So my kids and I came to Canada in 2009.
In the middle or all forms of corruption and bribery in Pakistan he wanted to do good work. So for approval of his hospital plan, confronting the Director General of Karachi Building Control Authority, KBCA (who is now a fugitive for corruption) in his polite affirmness Fasih demanded, “I want to make a quality healthcare setup that provides honest and ethical care in Karachi but I dont have any money to give bribe. I am a salaried man, not a builder.” And imagine the miracle, the man famous for not sparing a penny of bribe relented saying, “Pray for me in Haram”. Fasih then took out a box of Ajwa dates as a reward for him. With his mild sense of humor, he came out smiling from the Director’s office saying, “This ajwa dates will control his hypoglycemia for not have got any bribe.” He was famous in Building Control( KBCA) that, “ye doctor tou kangla hai.” (This doctor is a pauper). And Fasih enjoyed his nickname.
When we inaugurated the dream of his life, Taj Clinics( now Taj Consultants Clinics) he named after his mother Tajunnisa, and realized the hard work wasn’t yet over and it was now a 14 hour per day job, with no vacations, no salary, not even a car for first 2 years of the startup. I often joked to him, “Deewane tou pehle hi the, ab aur tarah ki deewangi hai.” (Crazy you were already, now this is another level of craziness). He just laughed and retorted, “Zindagi kya hai jaanne ke liye, Karachi mein rehna bahut zaroori hai.”(To know what living means, you must experience living in Karachi). He did not regret for a single minute the U-turn his life had taken from a high salaried Consultant luxurious life in the Middle East, to a life in Karachi far from family, with no rest, no money and loads of sweat, loadshedding, manipulations, navigating a thororughly corrupt system for every paperwork, and most of all never ending expenses in newly begun Taj Consultants Clinics.
At our inauguration of Taj Consultants Clinics on April 5, 2015
In 30 years there must have been 100s of such incidents when I feared but he just kept taking risks but with a belief that he is not doing anything unfair or unjust. And that this is the right way and nothing good happens by being fearful. He kept proving my fears wrong.
Last pic together near Niagara Falls on May 11, 2020
He came for a 2 week spring break to us in Mississauga on March 1, 2020. With blessing in disguise due to lockdown and no flights he got stranded here with us for 10 weeks. He travelled back to Pakistan on May 15, 2020, despite our pleas to not go, as I feared he will risk his life in COVID 19 as a Pulmonologist in a madhouse called Karachi. He said he has his patients, his staff that needs to be paid salary before Eid ( May 23, 2020) and, “I can’t hide from what I am trained to do. My patients will die. I promise I will be safe.” He started his Chest Clinic at Taj Consultants Clinics on May 25 and saw tens of patients each day with at least a quarter of them were clinically COVID 19. He used to tell me with frustration that many of them are negative on tests and they refuse to accept and to be referred to COVID Centres. On asked to be tested from a relaible lab one man even said, “Sir I have 3 daughters. How can I label myself COVID 19.” And I kept worrying yet praying and nagging him across oceans, as usual, to follow strict precautions, PPE and SOPs knowing this time too I will be proven wrong. But this was not meant to be. And as I always told him, “If any risk goes wrong, we wont get a second chance Last he saw on Friday 19 after which he developed fever and isolated himself. He was admitted on Sunday. Alas, Fasih lost his battle to COVID 19 on Friday 26 June 2020.
Hisaab e umr ka buss itnaa sa goshwaara hai, Tumhein nikaal ker dekha tou buss khasara hai. (This is the mere calculation in the ledger of my life, If I see excluding you, it is nothing but a total loss).
“Historically pandemics have forced humans to break with the past and imagine their world anew. This one is no different. It is a portal, a gateway between one world and the next. We can choose to walk through it, dragging the carcasses of our prejudice and hatred, our avarice, our data banks and dead ideas, our dead rivers and smoky skies behind us. Or we can walk through lightly, with little luggage, ready to imagine another world. And ready to fight for it.” ~ Arundhati Roy
The journey is inevitable, but the baggage is optional…
Have we not heard over and over and over again, one of the first comments we often get to hear when a new baby, boy or girl is born: “Iska rang itna gehra kyun hai. Kis per chala gaya?” (His/her skin color so dark. Who has he/she taken on.) “Arrey iska rang tou itna saaf hai. Bari sunder hai” (Wow, she is so fair, she is so pretty) Matrimonial Ad: “Chahiye, ek PhD larke ke liye ek gori, lambi, parhi likhi….” (Required for a PhD boy a girl fair, tall, educated…) Don’t fail to notice that fairness is emphesized before the qualifications… 😀
This list can go on. Majority of our conversation on looks hovers around complexion. Our Bollywood superstars, including top actresses including the so called ‘intellectual’ Ashwarya Rai have adverstised for fairness creams. #Fair&Lovely
Not just women, Bollywood men, even superstar #KingKhan have also been complicit in shamelessly endorsing bleach creams for men. #Fair&Handsome
It is estimated that in India alone, over $430-million worth of skin lightening products are consumed annually. This is not all. In a brown-skinned India, you hardly see a dark skinned girl as a heroine. Of course unless you have to show her as an ugly or a destitute. Here is an Ad from Pakistan by a senior icon, who is herself pretty wheatish branding her own fairness cream. Don’t miss how dusky girls are portrayed as sad, depressed and unfortunate.
#YourStoryTeller developed a story called Shade ( Saanwali) based on a true story:
World has seen enough racial prejudice. It is not just for Black people to rise and protest against anti-Black racism. South Asians too must stand with them in solidarity, and also wake up and rid ourselves of anti-black prejudice and internalized racism in the form of shadeism.
Here is a story: Reporter: What do you want? Black youth: We want justice. Reporter: What does justice look like to you? Black youth: We want equality. Reporter: What do you mean equality? Black youth: If I walk with my white friend, I will be stopped for question, but not my white friend. This must change. And if to get that, we need to see this place up in flames, its okay. All we want is equality and justice.
African Americans have been subjected to intergenerational trauma from discrimination, racism and violence over centuries. Black young men continue to be brutally killed for little or no reason by white police officers, and the officers have been getting away with it. They are disproportionately represented in US criminal justice system for their skin color. Black mothers dread when their boys step out alone and pray they return back alive. Do you not know why?
If you are criticizing the violence in US cities as unjust while remaining silent on the brutal murder of #GeorgeFloyd, you are only voicing your antiblack racist prejudices, no matter which white, yellow or brown skin you may be. If this angry outburst and property damage has no justification, there is even disproportionately bigger INJUSTICE in brutally killing an unarmed man with excessive use of one’s power as a white police officer. Is that a rocket science? Or do you have little or no grey matter to get that?
Ek shaam abhi kaam per hi the, Ke achaanak TV se maloom huwa, Adhi raat12 baje Corona ke chalte, Poora desh lockdown ho jayega Pher sab kuch such mein ruk bhi gaya. Kya factories ki anthek masheenein, Kya dukanon ke khuley shutter Kya chalti rail aur buson ke engine Kya malik ki vinamr sahanubhooti Sabhi kuch per hii taala per gaya.
Buss khuley the tou peit ki bhook, Gaaon se aati ma ke phone ki ghanti, Aur us phone se nikalti Ma ki pukaar, “Beta jaldi ghar aa ja, jaise bhi ho ghar aa ja. Kab tak bhooka rahega, kab tak footpath per soyega, Wahan kaun hai tera? Shehr ki pakke makaan aur pakki sarak ki tarah, Wahan log bhi pather ke hain.
Yahan gaon ki pagdandi ki urti mitti, kuwein ka ghattaa thanda paani, Ghar ka purana bikherta chapper, Choolhey per pakti bajre ki khichri, Sab ke sab jaise bhi hain,apne hain. Aur pher mayn bhi tou huun yahan.
“Wahan Corona huwa tou kya hoga? Bhagwan na kare, hospital mein lawaris number ban ker< barafkhane mein jama diye jaaogey. Na koi royega na chhaati peetega.
“Nahin nahin, jaise bhi ho gaaon chale aao. Yaad nahin, kitne sookhe, kitni baarhein, Kitne bukhar, kitna jullab, Jhel chukey hain mil jul ker. Corona ko bhi dekh lengey. Aur marna hi likha hai ager, Yahan, apni mitti tou milegi.”
Trending fire against #boyslockerroom has been blazing on Instagram and Twitter since 2 days, shocking many on how boys as young as 16-18 years were sharing pictures of underage girls and dissecting their anatomy in a group. I am no underage girl, and I am not surprised at 55 yrs of age. Is this not what we have all known since our childhood that #BoysWillBeBoys– reinforced not just by our fathers, uncles, brothers, male friends but by even mothers, grandmothers and aunts? So what is there to be shocked about? Have we not seen lewd images of private anatomy drawn or etched on public or train washroom walls, or tree trunks in playgrounds with names of the artists bravely signed at the bottom? If you have studied in a co-ed school from junior, middle to senior grades you know how boys of your grade have been noticing and talking among themselves about your emerging signs of puberty and exactly when started to wear a bra. Some even could guess by your walk in school.uniform if you were having periods. Yes we girls knew it too that we were being discussed..It was so normalized that we were told by our parents that the onus was entirely on us to ensure our own safety because “boys will be boys”. Did you not hear an uncle joking openly in a party of how his young secretary has better measurements than your auntie? Or something similar? Or how he ordered a tall blonde from Starbucks with a twinkle in his eyes. This is exactly where the little boys got the clue to objectify and make sexual jokes on little girls. If at all anything that has changed now is that this shit called ‘boys will be boys’ has gone digital and could be captured with screenshots as a proof. Rest it has been the same conversation over generations. And thanks to #MeToo movement, there has been a significant disruption in the normalization of such patriarchal norms. Victimblaming, gaslighting or retaliatory responses with #girlslockerroom screenshots are an age old tactics to divert the conversation. There are no binaries to “boys will be boys”. Kudos to young girls mustering courage to stand up. Yes it’s time now for “girls to be Empowered GIRLS, so that boys won’t be boys. No more. #girlempowerment#patriarchy#misogyny. #boyswillbeboys#nomore.
Sonia and Vicky( names not real) are both a working couple. Sonia works as a school teacher. Vicky works in a hotel as a floor manager. He loves socializing with friends and spent at least 3-4 evenings with his friends drinking. Freuently, he comes home drunk, and it just takes him a silly excuse to either hurl abuses or sometimes even physically hit Sonia. Kids are scared of him when drunk. Sonia tries to avoid too. But often questions herself: “Why did I say this or do this to enrage him?” She has mentioned this to her Mom and her reply was, “Havent you seen your father? How he behaves when drunk?” She tries her best to not trigger Vicky, but she unfortunately always fails. Then came Corona. Soon it was declared a pandemic and all countries started to lock down. Within 2 weeks Vicky was laid off. He was depressed, not just because he had lost his job but also because he could not drink with his friends. Sonia was asked by school to work remotely and she had to spend extra hours learning the art of digital lessons. Her two kids, 5 and 9 were also home, as the schools were closed. Sonia helped them navigate the digital lessons and homeworks too. Ofcourse cooking, cleaning, washing were part of her responsibilities too. One day Vicky woke up at 12 Noon with loud laughter from the kids room. “Why are the kids screaming? Sonia? I cant even sleep?” Sonia was busy on the dining table with her laptop and preparing lessons for her next class. “Sonia, why cant you listen? Why cant you mind the kids?” screamed Vicky from the room. Sonia: “I am working for my lesson. They are on a break after 2 hours of work.” Vicky: “But I am heaving a headache.” Sonia: “Yes, I understand. But please bear with it. I will tell the kids to not be too noisy. “ Vicky: “Make me a cup of tea.” ( shouts from the room). Sonia: “Okay. Just 5 minutes. I am about to finish the work. Just relax.” In 15 minutes, she makes the cup of tea and takes for Vicky in the bedroom. Vicky: “Is this your 5 minutes? “ Sonia: “I was just finishing the school lesson. I have been up since 7:30 AM. But did not have a minute to spare.” Vicky: “You want to prove that you that your work is more imprtant than me? Just because I dont have a job? “ Sonia keeps quiet and goes back to the kitchen as she now has to cook for the lunch, during her 1 hour school lunch break. Vicky( shouts from inside): “What is this? How much sugar have you put in the tea? “ Sonia: “Oh, maybe I put it twice. Sorry, I was just absent minded.” Vicky: “You are a useless woman. Its like a cold sherbet. I needed a good cup of hot tea for my headache.“ Sonia: “You drank a lot late in the night. This is a hangover from that?” Vicky gets enraged, and slaps Sonia: “How dare you taunt me? You will now question my drinking? Bitch !”
In the evening Sonia tells her husband that she has to go out for groceries. He shouts again, “So you now want to stroll outside and bring home infection for me and kids?” Sonia: “So who will get the groceries? Will you go? “ Vicky slaps her and shouts: “Shut up you bitch ! You want me to go out and die?” Now Vicky’s triggers leading to abuses and slappings have become more frequent. Sonia does not know how to change this? She cannot even go to her mother’s home for a respite, and nor can she speak to her or anyone of her friends because of Vicky being around all the time during lockdown.
Sonia has a question for you all: Am I at fault for all of Vicky’s triggers? Do I have to live like this all my life or is there anything that can change my life ?
This is a story not from one country, one community or one faith group. This is the story from all across the globe.
A self explanatory picture of DV during COVID-19 by Nirjhar Som.
Gender based violence aka Domestic violence or violence against women has been a pandemic ever since the human life began. In each crisis or natural disaster it has been a best evidence that there occurs a spike in GBV. So has it happened in #COVID19 crisis. From Japan to China to Phillipines to India to pakistan to Turkey to France to UK to US to Canada there are reports of increase domestic violence during lockdown. Public authorities insist people to ‘Stay home, stay safe’. However home is not safe for many victims of abuse and they are in more vulnerable and exposed to violence during social distancing and lockdown.
Please do leave your answers to the above question in the comments below. The intent of these stories is to initiate conversation on domestic violence and create a better awareness on this global pandemic.
Here are a few tips for those facing violence at home during lockdown:
Blind to Bounds 
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