A hundred beats
19 March 2007 | New York Times
A hundred beats of the heart, my heart.
How else can I tell you the things I see and feel?
Through every closing and opening of my eyes I promise to be true and open, looking at the
world at home and ahead of us so that I may show you the things that move me.
Pedro Salinas, the Spanish poet, once said "I want you as a glass, never as a mirror".
But let us return, let us return to us.
Each beat will bring us, you and I, closer as we traverse farther and farther away from our
universes. I'll take us from Karachi, to Larkana my home, to Muzaffarabad, to Lahore and
Islamabad (but only if you really insist), to the minefields of Balochistan, to the myriad places in
between and beyond this city by the sea that we call our own. But let us not make the mistake of
calling home the land where we stand, limiting it solely to the ground beneath our feet. We are
not confined by our religion(s), our language or our skin: the tide of global revolution is here.
There will be time for question and answers, time for transgressions, time for confessions and
more. But first, a stage to set these beats: This is no longer the year of the 'for now', it is the now.
We are witness to extraordinary history.
Lebanon -- I left you last under IDF bombing raids, under no electricity and no end in sight. We
will return to Lebanon, it is only a beat or two away, I have more to say and more to share, but
remember that Israel was not able to turn back the clock on Lebanon twenty years. Israel left, its
soldiers wounded and confused. Lebanon, its people, and the fighters of Hezbollah, bloodied but
unbowed, their homes destroyed but still rooted to their soil, remained. It seems callous to claim
victory with so many lives and people lost, but the Lebanese -- the fighters, the resistance, the
proud -- they persevered. Israel -- the aggressors, the mighty, and the powerful -- they ran.
When Hugo Chavez's attempted coup against the political oligarchy in charge of Venezuela