Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Lets love Pakistan: a new resolution (VI)

18 minutes ago
Whatever we are, we’re mighty proud of it—just like we should be! PHOTO: AFP
Finally, after months of struggle and heaps of derision and negativity, I complete the challenge I laid out for myself last year: to compile a list of 65 things that make Pakistan so special.
I don’t know if I’m taking much away from this seemingly futile exercise, but one thing is certain: in a small, feel-good way, I think it has served its purpose by rekindling that flickering flame of patriotism and respect for the one certain thing in my life that is my country, my home, my Pakistan.
My dear Pakistan, may you live long and prosper.
51. The new wave of local English literati:
Pakistan had always been blessed with some great Urdu writers, but the country has recently started churning out a rather impressive squad of young English authors that have accrued much local and international interest. They have won rave reviews the world over, and in one much celebrated case, evening scoring a larger-than-life Hollywood movie deal. Bring on the local literature festivals!

52. Pakistan Armed Forces:
The seventh largest military force in the world in terms of active troops, Pakistan Armed Forces—which includes Pakistan Army, Pakistan Navy and Pakistan Air Force—have kept us safe and out of harm’s way through four full-fledged wars. It has also countered countless other polarised conflicts since our independence in 1947, and it’s time we get off our high horse and pay due respect to the thousands of jawans who’ve laid down their lives for us and this country.

53. Our charitable nature:
Someone once said that one of the measures of the goodness of a nation is its level of civil engagement. By that logic, I’m proud of the fact that we’re perhaps the most benevolent country in this part of the world! According to South Asian Investor Review, we lead the South Asian pack when it comes to charitable giving. We contribute around Rs150 billion—nearly 1% of the nation’s GDP—every year to some of 162 PCP certified NGOs that operate inside this poor, neglected country we call home.

54. Cheap herbal remedies and grandma’s infallible totkas:
Granted Zubaida Apa has somewhat ruined their charm for most people, but it’s really amazing how Pakistani grannies have a totka up their sleeve for literally everything. From runny noses and hair fall to revamping a week-old saalan to make it look fresh for tonight’s soiree; or manipulating the maasi into becoming a submissive robot; they know it all! Really, if you want help with it, granny’s got a totka for it!

55. Pakistani handicrafts:
From the iconic embroidered Kashmiri dresses, khussas (shoes), hand-painted earthenware of Multan to the famous bangles and rullis (block-printed shawls) of Hyderabad, Pakistani handicrafts are unique and breathtaking. They are very popular, both locally and among visiting foreigners. Incidentally, our textile and leather industries are second to none, too, despite the fact that they generate far more pride for Pakistanis than they do income!

56. Our hospitality:
We might dislike our next door neighbours and Amreekans with all our might for reasons that aren’t entirely unjustifiable. But let’s face it: we sure know how to put up an exemplary show of warmth, hospitality and cordiality if someone from either place—or any other country for that matter, especially if they’re fair-skinned and blonde!—should ever decide to visit.

57. Dr Abdus Salam:
He was the first and only Pakistani to win the esteemed Nobel Prize in physics for his contribution to the unification of electromagnetic and weak forces in 1979. It’s a pity Dr Abdus Salam didn’t live to see Pakistan become a nuclear state in 1998, but his legacy lives on. He is widely, and rightfully, remembered as an amazing human being and the undisputable father of Pakistan’s school of Mathematical and Theoretical Physics.

58. Badshahi Mosque:
Pakistan may not have inherited a lot of the historic monuments and buildings that made pre-partition India so special, but we’ve been extremely fortunate in the ones we did. This 15th century marvel is one of them. Many other magnificent samples of Islamic-Persian-Hindustani infusions that were inherent to Mughal architecture that are sprinkled across the country. These are a testament to just that! Not only is Badshahi Mosque the second largest mosque in Pakistan and South Asia, it also holds the title of the fifth largest and one of the most visually attractive mosque in the world!

59. The Kalash valley and its beautiful people:
Claiming to be progenies of Alexander the Great, these indigenous people of Chitral are certainly as unique and marvellous as they look. With their rich cultural rituals, festivals, religious practices and those stunning long black iconic robes embroidered heavily with colourful beads and cowrie shells, the people of Kalash are one of a kind. And even though we, as a nation, might not have done much to preserve and revere this extraordinary community like it deserves, it’s still nice to know they’re there, and that they’re a part of Pakistan.

60. Our pride in our identity:
One of my readers pointed this out and I couldn’t agree more: We say we’re Middle Eastern but the Arabs say we’re Persian; Persians say we’re Afghan but the Afghans say we’re Indian… when all we really want—wish, rather—is to be some sort of gora!
The debate is never ending and usually ends in a heap of doubt and confusion… but one thing is clear: Whatever we are, we’re mighty proud of it—just like we should be!

61. The famous Anarkali in Lahore:
I’m sure Pakistan’s love for Anarkali bazaar’s food, clothes and traditional handicrafts has little to do with the fact that it happens to be the oldest surviving market of South Asia and one of the biggest business centers of the country. However, these facts do make this hub of our rich Lahori culture a very special Pakistani landmark indeed!

62. Minar-e-Pakistan:
This monumental minaret in Iqbal Park Lahore is a 200ft reminder of the official declaration to establish a separate homeland for the dejected Muslims of the Indian subcontinent. Today, when it’s not serving as a suicide hotspot for Lahoris, its purlieu seconds as a meeting ground for political revolutionaries and, well, sneaky couples out on daytime dates.

63. Our language:
The beautiful, special, accommodating language that is Urdu.

64. Our August 14 jazba:
It’s funny how we Pakistanis spend the 364 days up till August 14 every year. We are in a perpetual state of spite for the way things run in this country, and then miraculously develop a softer than soft spot for our beloved watan on the eve of the independence day. We virtually forget and forgive all the things we so despise and all ready to start afresh by singing and dancing and watching cheery TV shows like we’re either newborns with hope and patriotism in great abundance, or oldies with a severe case of dementia.

65. Finally, the man of the hour:
Yes, he was the man whose confidence gave a nation of crestfallen minions the best gift they could have wished for: hope. His multidimensional personality and astute political prowess earned us a home and identity. His good looks and unrivaled taste for fine things made him an absolute standout among his counterparts as well as in the league of legendary founding fathers (think George Washington and Mohandas Gandhi, both of whom pale in comparison!). This man left us three simple words and a gamut of lessons to live by… the man who left us all too soon: Quaid-e-Azam Mohammed Ali Jinnah, thank you, for everything!

PHOTO CREDIT: FILE/AFP/ISRARUL HAQ/MUHAMMAD JAVED/REUTERS/SUNARA NIZAMI/ABID NAWAZ/EXPRESS

Thursday, August 16, 2012



We should try to achieve economic growth within the international economic and political system instead of trying to overturn it by taking on a superpower unnecessarily. PHOTO: REUTERS

US ties are not dispensable

Supporters of the Difa-e-Pakistan Council are bent on blocking Nato supplies. Rubbishing the possibility of any backlash from Western governments in the form of hostile trade policies and international isolation for Pakistan, they say the US is already a sunset superpower and that Pakistan should foster stronger trade ties with China and other emerging powers.

According to critics, two fully-fledged wars in the last decade have shaken the economic foundations of the US. However, when the US-led wars in Afghanistan and Iraq were at their peak, its war-related expenses amounted to $125 billion a year, which is not even one per cent of the total size of the US GDP.

Also, while referring to its heavy defence spending, many people feel that America will soon crumble under its own military weight. What they fail to notice, however, is that US defence spending forms only 4.9 per cent of its GDP, which is hardly 0.6 per cent higher than that of China, according to CIA’s The World Factbook.

The reason for US’ unrivalled military power is that it rests on a solid economic base, which is reflected in the enormous size of its economy. It has been the world’s largest economy for the past 130 years and has been producing around one-quarter of the global GDP for the last six decades.

But what should we make of the claim that the United States is on the wane?

Businesses and technologies of the future, like nanotechnology and biotechnology, are all being developed in the US. While many Pakistanis never tire of pointing out the outsourcing of manufacturing operations from the US to Asia, they should take a closer look at profit margins. According to iSuppli Corporation — a market research firm — the bill of materials of an iPhone 4 (manufactured in China) in 2010 was $187.51 as opposed to its unsubsidised price of $600 in the US market. The stark difference between the manufacturing cost and the retail price makes clear that real money lies in branding and retail, which can prosper only in countries with higher per capita income.

America is Pakistan’s largest trading partner.

Our exports to the US were 128 per cent higher than those to China in 2011. The US is indeed indispensable for us. We should try to achieve economic growth within the international economic and political system instead of trying to overturn it by taking on a superpower unnecessarily.

Shaista Zaid and the black days of the past

July 24, 2012
English newscaster Shaista Zaid retires after 43 years of service to the state broadcaster PTV, but did you know that for many years she was also the voice of the English speaking clock, and that to this day, you can hear her on PTCL announcing,
“Your telephone subscription does not support calling this number. Please dial 17 for more assistance?”
Her voice for me was the official English-speaking voice of Pakistan when I was growing up, during the years of Zia and state control over information; seeing her finally retire brings back memories of those difficult times. I can’t help but think of all the state-authored lies stories that passed her lips over those dark years. Was she anything more than an official mouthpiece for a dictator?
In the late 1970s, when I returned to Pakistan, I could only speak English, although I understood Urdu, poorly. There was only one television channel: The state-owned Pakistan Television Network.
It ran on an abbreviated schedule: no programming until about three in the afternoon. Then the station would warm up with about an hour of Quran lessons and recitation. After 4:00pm, we were rewarded with one English cartoon: Looney Tunes, Tom and Jerry, Mickey Mouse. Back to the Urdu language programming: Dull serials, staid talk shows, a little music with say, children singing folk-songs in traditional dress.
At 7:00pm, the news in English. This is when Shaista Zaid would make her appearance, resplendent in her shalwar kameezes with a dupatta perched carefully over her bouffant, large expressive eyes, high cheekbones and full lips made up to camera-ready perfection. Her dulcet tones would fill the room and I’d hear snippets about what was happening in the world (carefully censored) and in Pakistan (written by the Ministry of Information, filled with state propaganda, and completely one-sided).
I was too little to know any better. I waited impatiently for seven-thirty, when the one English language television show would be aired: Little House on the Prairie, The Rockford Files, The Six Million Dollar Man, shows deemed harmless enough for Pakistani audiences, although every kiss was carefully edited out (they weren’t that picky about skimpy clothing).
And General Zia. Oh, the footage of General Zia, saluting, reviewing parades, meeting foreign dignitaries, shaking hands with wounded soldiers. His disabled daughter, dressed in a military uniform of her own, never far from his side on stage, saluting her father like any good soldier. He filled the screen, he filled the country. He was larger than life, a figure somewhere halfway between Big Brother and a religious icon.
After a while, anytime I heard Shaista Zaid’s voice, I saw the general in my mind. In fact, her voice became an instant soporific for me, and like Pavlov’s dogs, I’d tune out on cue the minute I heard her speaking. Later, I’d realise how similar her voice and diction was to Benazir Bhutto (Zia’s arch-rival and nemsis, ironically) – a highly educated, upper-class Pakistani accent that spoke of drawing rooms and servants, luxury cars and illicit whiskey.
So much was announced by Shaista Zaid, as someone said on Twitter yesterday. The sighting of Eid moons, updates on Kashmir and the war in Afghanistan.
In those days, two words were never mentioned on television: ‘Bhutto’ and ‘India’. The news, sanitised, propagandised, carefully cut and edited to create a narrative of Pakistan as the greatest country in the Muslim world, if not the entire universe – supporting heroic Mujahideen, fighting unnameable enemies, forging and maintaining blood-brother friendships with China and Turkey. Women carefully embroidered out of this narrative, relegated to roles of homemaker, teacher, mother, wife, daughter – smiling, silent sidekicks to their menfolk, who were superior to them in every way.
It’s true that Shaista Zaid continued to broadcast the news for decades after the end of Zia’s reign. But for me, she’ll always be associated with those strange, surreal days, the “black” days as the MRD named them. Picking up my telephone and dialing the wrong number sends me back thirty years, turns me into a child again, when I was young and innocent and Pakistan was the center of the world and General Zia was the Master of the Universe.
Read more by Bina here or follow her on Twitter @BinaShah

Saturday, August 4, 2012


China: Muslim Fasting Discouraged


Several local governments in the western region of Xinjiang have ordered Muslim restaurants to stay open during the holy month of Ramadan and are telling civil servants and students to continue to eat and drink during daylight hours, when Muslims generally fast. Ramadan began on July 20. A notice on the Web site of the health bureau of Urumqi, the regional capital, said local officials had discussed “increasing eating and drinking during Ramadan” and were urged “to increase the monitoring of collective eating with supplied food at work units.” The goal was to “guarantee the health of the masses,” the posting said. Local governments have been putting in place such policies for several years. Southern Xinjiang and Urumqi have a large number of Uighurs, Muslims who often express discontent with ethnic Han, who dominate China.

Pakistan’s crisis of leadership

Zardari’s government has already been sentenced in the court of public opinion; the Supreme Court’s strictures could be the final nail in its coffin

A landmark verdict by Pakistan’s Supreme Court on Friday once again lays the ground for a fresh challenge to the future of Pakistan’s ruling coalition led by President Asif Ali Zardari’s Pakistan People’s Party (PPP).
The verdict has reversed a recent act of parliament which gave key elected officials, notably the prime minister, immunity from prosecution on contempt of court charges. For an inexperienced observer of Pakistan’s affairs, the Supreme Court’s verdict may indeed undermine a democratically elected regime. Yet, nothing could be further from the truth.
The verdict is the latest twist in an ongoing saga which started with a controversy over Zardari and is becoming a debate on how best Pakistan ought to be governed.
Earlier this summer, Pakistan’s former prime minister Yousuf Raza Gilani was forced out of power on a contempt of court charge. This was the grand finale following months of refusal by Gilani’s regime to formally approach the authorities in Switzerland and request a reopening of investigations into allegations of corruption against Zardari.
Zardari is alleged to have received kickbacks from two Swiss companies with business interests in Pakistan when his late wife Benazir Bhutto was prime minister in the 1990s.
Any politician, who claims innocence and seeks to redeem his credentials, must be open to accountability. After all, individuals in high public office in any democracy must consider their public image as the ultimate defining criteria of their moral authority to rule. Yet, that is not the way Zardari or his partners in the PPP appear to have proceeded. Instead, their response has simply been to cry foul at every step of the process, in an effort to defy the odds. This approach appears to have fuelled the rigorous push for a controversial parliamentary legislation on the contempt of court affair, to protect Prime Minister Raja Pervez Ashraf from meeting Gilani’s fate.
While Pakistan’s so-called democratic government finds itself in a tight corner in its battle with the Supreme Court, there are other matters which have hurt its credentials. For instance, there could not have been a more controversial move than picking Ashraf as Gilani’s replacement at a time when Pakistanis are lamenting the worst electricity shortages in Pakistan’s history.
Tainted tenure
Dubbed by the media as ‘Raja rental’, Ashraf earlier served as the minister of water and power before being dropped from the cabinet in early 2011. He was accused of failing to deliver on his promises to end the electricity shortages. He was also embroiled in the much publicised rental power stations scandal on which the exchequer spent billions of rupees for nothing.
This background is indeed relevant in a year when Pakistanis have fought pitched battles with the police in protests against power shortages lasting up to 20 hours a day. The crisis of credibility in the government has complicated matters.
The advent of winter is likely to expose Pakistanis to gas shortages too, a recurring pattern which has built up increasingly under the present regime.
Ashraf is due to appear before the Supreme Court this week to face charges of contempt, in a repeat of the accusations which surrounded Gilani. The latest verdict on immunity theoretically could see him meeting the same fate as his predecessor.
The people’s verdict is already out. Faced with the worst public relations disaster than any other regime in Pakistan’s history, Zardari and his coterie must now reconcile themselves to an uphill battle. Irrespective of what judges think, Pakistanis appear to have already written off the government.

PPP: No compromise on Parliament’s right to legislate

Leaders of the Pakistan People’s Party-led coalition met for a crucial meeting in the presidency on Friday night after the Supreme Court struck down the Contempt of Court Act, which was passed last month to protect Prime Minister Raja Pervez Ashraf from being disqualified for not acting on the court’s order to revive graft cases against President Asif Ali Zardari.

Following the meeting chaired by Zardari and Ashraf, presidential spokesman Farhatullah Babar said the leaders discussed the current situation and expressed their resolve “that the right of the parliament to legislate would be upheld and this right would not be allowed to be compromised no matter what the odds and the cost would be”.

Pakistan: Contempt Law Rejected



The Supreme Court on Friday struck down a controversial law that the governing party had hoped would help fend off contempt charges against Prime Minister Raja Pervez Ashraf. Chief Justice Iftikhar Muhammad Chaudhry called the law, which provided greater protection to the prime minister and other senior government officials against such charges, unconstitutional and contrary to the independence of the judiciary. In June, the court ousted Yousaf Raza Gilani, then the prime minister, after he refused to support the reopening of a corruption investigation against President Asif Ali Zardari in Switzerland. The law struck down on Friday was introduced by the Pakistan Peoples Party in July to shield Mr. Gilani’s successor, Mr. Ashraf, from a similar fate. The court gave Mr. Ashraf until Wednesday to ask Swiss authorities to reopen the case against Mr. Zardari. He has given no indication that he plans to do so.



Another Threat in Pakistan, in Sheep’s Clothing



COUNTLESS threats stalk the Pakistani government, from militants in the tribal regions near Afghanistan to a backward economy teetering on collapse. In recent weeks, the focus has been on the Haqqani network, fundamentalist fighters along the border who have longstanding ties to Pakistani intelligence and have conducted deadly attacks on American troops and officials in Afghanistan.


Yet Pakistan also faces another, less publicized, challenge — from a banned Islamist organization that does not mount spectacular attacks but is nonetheless insidious. The group, Hizb-ut-Tahrir, is part of an international Islamist movement that promises to establish a caliphate through a bloodless revolution led by elite recruits.


Hizb-ut-Tahrir is not known to have committed a violent act in Pakistan. Instead, according to analysts, it looks for turncoats, proselytizing among officials in inner circles who have the power to bring the government down from within. If they succeed, Pakistan’s nuclear arsenal might fall into hands that are even less reliable than those of the military, which controls the country’s security.


The organization operates in more than 40 countries, including Britain and the United States, and has been active in Central Asia for more than a decade. But special concern arose in Pakistan after an army brigadier named Ali Khan was arrested in May 2011; his six-month trial, on charges of having ties to Hizb-ut-Tahrir, and of conspiring to overthrow the government, ended in June but a verdict has not yet been announced.


Hizb-ut-Tahrir’s ultimate goal is a global caliphate — an Islamic political and religious domain — across the entire Muslim world, and Pakistani researchers suggest that it has targeted Pakistan as a potential starting point. Several weeks before Brigadier Khan’s arrest last year, Pakistani intelligence warned the government that the movement was planning an Arab Spring-style uprising.


And last March, Pakistani news organizations published a report that Brigadier Khan had said the movement was ready to take over anytime, having equipped itself with a new constitution and shadow government. The report was attributed to a prosecution witness.


The extent of the threat is difficult to judge. While the movement characterizes its tactics as nonviolent, it has used bellicose anti-Western imagery, praised attacks on American forces in the region, and spoken of global conquest. In those ways, at least, Hizb-ut-Tahrir resembles more violent South Asian militant organizations like Lashkar e-Taiba, some of which have friends and sympathizers within the Pakistani military and intelligence elite.
The number of Hizb-ut-Tahrir members in Pakistan is unknown, and officials assume it is modest. But the group’s significance lies not so much in its size as in its composition. Its recruiting targets are high-ranking military officers, affluent, educated urbanites and students at prestigious private universities. A statement posted on its Pakistani Web site on Oct. 21 appealed “To the Generals, Air Marshals and Navy Admirals and officers of the Pakistan armed forces,” rather than to common soldiers.
“Being the real rulers of this country,” it told the officers, “only through you can the ummah be liberated from the current crises, hardship and calamities that she faces at the hands of the Western capitalist states.” (The ummah refers to the global Islamic community.)
This recruitment seems to be working. Members have claimed that the group operates in major Pakistani cities, and that thousands of Pakistanis have joined. In late March, Pakistani journalists received a text message with a link to a new video accusing the army chief, Ashfaq Parvez Kayani, of treachery. Hours later, intelligence agents detained more than 20 people on suspicion of helping produce the video — at a home in one of Lahore’s fanciest neighborhoods.
A former air base commander in the southern province of Baluchistan and a high-ranking security officer for Pervez Musharraf, then the president, were arrested in 2009 and accused of having connections to Hizb-ut-Tahrir. The group has also recruited army cadets trained at Sandhurst, Britain’s military academy.


Even though conservatism and piety are on the rise among Pakistan’s privileged classes, and recent polls find nearly two-thirds of Pakistani youths favoring an Islamic state, some analysts optimistically assume that Pakistanis as a whole would reject militant paths to that goal. Militant factions like the Pakistani Taliban are reviled for their brutality, and radical Islamist political parties have not done well in elections.


But those observations don’t take into account the deviousness of Hizb-ut-Tahrir. In simultaneously rejecting the existing political system and professing nonviolence, the group deftly captures a middle ground in the Pakistani zeitgeist, since a great many Pakistanis abhor both their dysfunctional government and the prospect of more killing. But Hizb-ut-Tahrir’s references to nonviolence obscure the group’s apparent willingness to use coups to take power, its entreaties to fight American soldiers, and its calls for Israel’s destruction.


Given the strength of Pakistan’s military, attempts to pull off a putsch like the one Brigadier Khan was accused of planning could well fail. But even a botched coup could unleash devastating results: army crackdowns, a state of emergency, terrorist attacks and a suspension of civilian government.


All this makes for yet another nightmarish prospect that Americans need to worry about in one of the world’s most dangerous countries.

Michael Kugelman is the South Asia associate at the Woodrow Wilson International Center for Scholars.

Thursday, August 2, 2012


Veena Malik’s Ramadan show dropped

Due to the massive public uproar and online petition online, Veena Malik, the most controversial Pakistan-based Indian actress, has been removed from Astaghfar Show, a Ramadan-based program at newly launched Hero TV.
A highly placed source in Express Media Group, which launched Hero TV, told media that it was confirmed that the bold actress had been removed from the program.

Pakistan’s first super model

Rakhshanda Khattak
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Rakhshanda Khattak was one of Pakistan’s leading fashion models in the 1970s 
before quitting and leaving the country in 1979. 
She died in Canada in 2011.[1]

[edit]Early life

Rakhshanda Khattak was born to Pathan Family in Burma.

[edit]Modelling career

She attended the Southern Alberta Institute of Technology and got her red seal 
in cooking and baking. Usually people specialise in being a chef or a baker, 
but she mastered both and topped both her classes. Her love for clothes got 
her working in designer stores. She would go on to become a manager at every 
store she worked.
Rakhshanda Khattak, has been dubbed by the Pakistani media as Pakistan’s 
first super model.

[edit]References

  1. ^ Borges, Roland (1 July 2012). "Pakistan’s first super model". 
  2. The Express Tribune. Retrieved 27 July 2012.

No fashion model of the 1970s got paid in the thousands, except for the larger-than-life Rakhshanda Khattak, who had to travel a rough road to make a name for herself in the still fledgling Pakistani fashion industry.
Once, her husband Husain Javeri, a jeweller who hardly ever skipped work, decided to accompany her to a modeling gig. After watching his wife having to bend, stretch and contort her body for the perfect pose, and that too for the pittance she was being paid, he approached the advertisement director and demanded his wife be paid ten times the amount to make it worth her time. That was the amount of money someone would have to pay him to be away from his wife, he said. The director was shocked but since he could not afford to lose her, he agreed. Following this incident, Rakhshanda went on to become the highest-paid and yet the most sought after young model of her time.
The Burmese-Pathan woman had her photos splashed across fashion layouts in various English and Urdu magazines. She did commercials ranging from products such as paints and toothpaste. She boasted a height many envied, and could drape her curvaceous figure — a far cry from the anorexic waif look of the New York and Paris fashion world that has caught up with Pakistani models — in a classical sari or sashay about in casual bell bottoms, and still look desirable. When she entered a room, heads turned as men stealthily gazed at her while women inspected her style.
Besides being gifted by exotic looks, she was a woman of many talents. Rakhshanda was fluent in five languages. She was the first Pakistani woman to earn a black belt in karate and the second black belt in Jiu-jitsu. This helped her execute her own stunts in an action-packed feature film named Jane Bond 008 in 1971. While her stunts awed audiences, something else captured the attention of the women: The black-and-white Pakistan-Iran collaboration (that included an Iranian producer and male lead actor) featured the young actress wearing a low-waist sari. And such was the impact of her fashion statement that it became a rage with young women to drape saris closer to their hips.
Rakhshanda forayed into the show business when a family friend offered to cast her in a marketing campaign for his products. She did a few projects with him, and when she got noticed by other agencies she exploded into the limelight. She was not represented by a management company or fashion house because such entities did not exist at the time. Advertising agencies were shady and models had to monitor their photo shoots on their own to make sure they were not being used without permission and due payment. Since there were no modeling agencies or styling salons, most models did their own hair, makeup and wardrobe. The typical fees for a modeling photo shoot was somewhere around Rs300, and that too was often delayed or worse, pocketed by the agencies.
That was until her husband, the man who managed to steal her heart from her elite group of admirers, got her more. They were married in 1970. Husain owned a famous jewelry store on Victoria Road, which later became Abdullah Haroon Road, and he designed some of the jewellery that Rakhshanda wore at the posh social gatherings. He would sometimes sell the jewellery by the end of the party, and this never pleased Rakhshanda. He would pacify by her saying, “Don’t worry I’ll make you something much better!” Which he would, but then when these fine pieces of jewelry were displayed on Rakhshanda and the opportunity came to sell, he probably did so.
Rakhshanda and Husain, along with their son Chengis, migrated to Alberta, Canada, at the end of 1979 to be closer to one of Husain’s brothers. Later in 1983, the Javeri family became naturalised Canadian citizens.
The fame and spotlight that Rakhshanda left behind in order to begin life in her new homeland left a vacuum that she filled by turning to designing her own clothes and cooking. She attended the Southern Alberta Institute of Technology and got her red seal in cooking and baking. Usually people specialise in being a chef or a baker, but she mastered both and topped both her classes. Her love for clothes got her working in designer stores. She would go on to become a manager at every store she worked.
Rakhshanda’s love for Pakistan never died and, according to her son Chengis, she came back to Pakistan 22 times in the 30 years since she migrated. She missed the sense of community that came with friends and family. She also missed the Karachi night life, which pretty much waned over the years as political change of the 1980s spread conservatism in society. 
Rakhshanda died in her Alberta condo in December 2011. She is survived by her son, who is an artist and actor in Alberta, and her five sisters, four of whom live in Pakistan while the other lives in Texas. Rakhshanda ruled the hearts of millions during her prime, and her departure from the industry left her fans wistful for more. Now that she has taken a final bow from this world, fans like me celebrate the legacy she has left behind. Rakhshanda Khattak, no doubt, was Pakistan’s first super model.