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Express Tribune
4 days ago
- Health
- Express Tribune
18 illegal aesthetic centres sealed
Assistant Director of SHCC Ahmer Abbas Saldera stands beside a pile of discarded, empty beauty drips at an illegal aesthetic clinic in DHA Phase II. PHOTO: EXPRESS The Sindh Healthcare Commission (SHCC) has stepped up its crackdown on unregistered and illegal aesthetic clinics operating in the metropolis, sealing at least 18 facilities over the past month in different neighbourhoods, including Clifton, DHA, Saddar, Ittehad Town, and Ranchore Line. In most cases, the clinics were operating without qualified medical professionals, with procedures being administered by untrained staff, including a sociology graduate running a clinic in DHA. SHCC officials reported widespread violations such as unhygienic conditions, improper disposal of medical waste, and the use of unverified techniques, including skin-whitening drips and anti-aging treatments. "We have inspected more than 80 suspect clinics so far, and the crackdown will continue until such illegal practices are rooted out," Ahmer Abbas Saldera, Assistant Director of SHCC's Anti-Quackery Wing, told The Express Tribune. In a recent raid, SHCC sealed a clinic in DHA Phase II despite efforts by the owner to intervene via phone calls. Video footage of the raid, along with disturbing visuals of unsanitary conditions at other clinics, has been shared with the media, revealing the grave risks posed by these clinics. SHCC Chief Executive Officer Dr Ahson Qavi Siddiqi urged the public to avoid unverified aesthetic centres and stressed that all procedures, including skin therapies, injectables, facials, and beauty drips, must be administered only under the supervision of Pakistan Medical and Dental Council (PMDC)-certified dermatologists. "There is currently no PMDC-recognised qualification in aesthetics in Pakistan. Many so-called 'aesthetic experts' are either physiotherapy graduates or those without any formal medical background. Their operations, often marketed on social media and morning TV shows, are misleading and medically unsound," he said. Dr Siddiqi added that some clinics prominently display large promotional billboards featuring fake designations and celebrity endorsements. He warned that such practices not only violate the law but also endanger the lives and well-being of unsuspecting clients. The SHCC is now in the process of drafting technical guidelines to regulate the aesthetics sector, with an aim to allow only certified, evidence-based practices. CEO Siddiqi also expressed concern over the role of mainstream media, particularly morning shows, where unqualified people are frequently introduced as "doctors" dispensing beauty advice and medical tips without proper credentials. He pointed out that, due to a legal grey area, SHCC is currently unable to inspect salons offering aesthetic services unless a formal complaint is received. He called for comprehensive legislation to bring such services under regulatory oversight. Among the procedures being offered at these clinics are PRP (Platelet Rich Plasma) therapy, Botox and dermal fillers, LED light therapy, micro-needling, chemical peels, and laser treatments - all of which require trained medical oversight. Without proper regulation, these services can lead to serious health complications.
Observer
19-07-2025
- Politics
- Observer
A handshake in orbit 50 years ago transformed the space race
Some 140 miles above France, American astronauts opened a spacecraft hatch and found themselves face to face with cosmonauts from the Soviet Union. 'Glad to see you,' Col. Alexei Leonov spoke in accented English to Brig. Gen. Thomas Stafford of NASA. 'Ah, hello, very glad to see you,' Stafford responded in his own accented Russian. The two men then shook hands. Today, Russian and American astronauts routinely share rides to the International Space Station, no matter the geopolitical conflict that divides their nations. But in the summer of 1975, seeing two men from rival nations greet each other in orbit across a bridge between their docked spacecraft was a powerful and unprecedented gesture witnessed by millions on the world spinning below. The handshake, which occurred 50 years ago on July 17, defined the Apollo-Soyuz Test Project, the first international human spaceflight. That simple symbol of partnership between bitter competitors remains an enduring legacy of the mission. 'It's amazing to think that two opposed countries with different systems and cultures, essentially ready to destroy each other, can somehow cooperate and do this highly technical, complicated mission,' said Asif Siddiqi, a professor of history at Fordham University and an expert on Russian space history. A generation after the orbital handclasp, the Soviets and the United States would come together to build the ISS. The aging space outpost's days are finite, and there are no immediate plans for Russia and the U.S. to sustain their cooperation in human spaceflight. The U.S. also sees itself as competing with China for dominance in space. But experts like Siddiqi see reasons for hope on the 50th anniversary of the Apollo-Soyuz mission. 'Whenever people tell me that this would never happen today, I always think, Well, that's what people said in the late '60s,' Siddiqi said. 'Androgynous' Dock Early in the space age, as America raced to catch up to the Soviet Union, a partnership in space had been proposed. In September 1963, speaking before the United Nations General Assembly two months before his assassination, President John F. Kennedy floated a joint mission to the moon. 'Why, therefore, should man's first flight to the moon be a matter of national competition?' he asked. 'Surely we should explore whether the scientists and astronauts of our two countries — indeed of all the world — cannot work together in the conquest of space.' This dream was deferred, and the U.S. would overtake the Soviets in the moon race with the successful Apollo 11 mission in 1969. Oddly, the American moon landing may have created a new window for cooperation. Public support for the Apollo missions fell, and the program was cut short after the Apollo 17 mission in 1972. That left the U.S. space program without an immediate objective. In parallel, both nations' reputations were tarnished abroad, the Soviet Union by its invasion of Czechoslovakia, and America by its involvement in the Vietnam War. That created an additional motivation to jointly reassert each country's status atop the global hierarchy. 'They needed to lift themselves and cooperate to show the rest of the world: We are as super and as great as ever before. We're doing things which no country can do in a similar capacity,' said Olga Krasnyak, an associate professor of international relations at the National Research University Higher School of Economics in Moscow. This mutually recognized opportunity for prestige led to tentative talks between the country's officials in 1970. From the get-go, it was clear that the mission faced immense diplomatic, technical, and cultural obstacles. There was no smooth glide path to launch. 'How do we communicate with people who speak entirely different languages, and who think differently about engineering and problem-solving?' Brian C. Odom, NASA's chief historian, said. 'On paper, it seems easy. You launch, we launch, we come together, we shake hands, we go our separate ways. But making that happen, where you don't have five people dying in orbit, is incredibly difficult.' The sudden switch from enemies to partners, at least in this limited case, caused whiplash for the public and politicians alike (a scenario that was dramatized in the Apple TV alternative history series 'For All Mankind'). Zbigniew Brzezinski, who later served as Jimmy Carter's national security adviser, criticized the Nixon and Ford administrations for the mission, calling it a 'technological giveaway.' Soviet space officials, who had long worked in secrecy, had to overcome wariness about loosening the flow of information to an adversary. The country's diplomats had to ensure that plans could be discussed without divulging anything sensitive to national security. Both sides were suspicious of the safety of the other's flagship spacecraft. The three astronauts selected for Apollo 1 perished in a fire during a rehearsal in 1967, while the three cosmonauts of Soyuz 11 died in space in 1971 when their cabin depressurized. Snipes about the superiority of one side's spacecraft over the other rankled insiders of the mission. American astronauts were used to a much more hands-on guidance system with Apollo, whereas Soyuz was largely automatic and controlled from the ground. The vehicles even used different atmospheres in their interiors. Soyuz simulates the familiar conditions of Earth, with a nitrogen-oxygen air mixture and a pressure equivalent to our planet at sea level. Apollo, in contrast, used a pure oxygen atmosphere at a much lower pressure. This discrepancy was solved by the development of a docking module with airtight hatches at each end. Once the module connected the two craft, crew members from one vehicle could enter, ensuring that both hatches were closed while it pressurized to match conditions of the other side. When that process was complete, the hatch to the other vehicle could be opened, allowing crews to safely enter without risking 'the bends,' a condition caused by rapid depressurization. For this particular mission, the Soyuz was kept at a lower pressure than normal to ease transitions between vehicles. The docking module was also purposefully designed to be androgynous to ensure that neither spacecraft was perceived as 'female,' or passive. As the mission planners navigated these headaches, a deep and abiding friendship flourished between the astronauts and cosmonauts. The Apollo side, headed by Stafford, also included Donald 'Deke' Slayton and Vance Brand. Leonov flew on the Soyuz side with Valery Kubasov. The crews learned each other's languages, though Leonov jokingly called Stafford's drawling pronunciation 'Oklahomski.' They trained together at NASA Johnson Space Center in Houston and Star City, the Russian space center outside Moscow. During these meetings, the space travelers hunted, drank and partied together. They shared steam baths and got into snowball fights. The two commanders remained particularly close for the rest of their lives: Leonov helped Stafford adopt two children from Russia, and Stafford gave a eulogy in Russian (or, rather, Oklahomski) at Leonov's funeral in 2019. The crews were 'setting an example, by being friendly and demonstrating cooperation,' said Brand, the last living member of the mission, in a 2000 interview with Rebecca Wright of NASA's Johnson Space Center Oral History Project. 'We actually came to have a very close relationship with the Soviet crew,' he added. Strawberry Juice and Borscht Against all odds, the crews finally reached their launch pads during the summer of 1975. On July 15, the Soyuz crew blasted off from Baikonur Cosmodrome in Kazakhstan, followed by the Apollo crew, which launched about seven hours later from Kennedy Space Center in Florida. The lead-up to docking was relatively smooth, though the Apollo crew discovered a 'super Florida mosquito' had stowed away with them, and Stafford joked that a juice spill had turned the Apollo into a 'strawberry-colored spacecraft.' The spaceships successfully docked at 12:12 p.m. Eastern time, July 17, high above the Atlantic Ocean. Hours later, the historic handshake was broadcast live to millions of viewers. The mission even inspired a cocktail called the Link Up, with equal parts Southern Comfort and vodka mixed with lime and ice, served at London's Savoy Hotel. The crew spent the next two days exchanging gifts, dining together (including borscht toasts), listening to music, and conducting experiments. The ships parted ways on July 19. After all the mutual worries about spacecraft safety, it was Apollo that ended up experiencing a serious incident, as toxic fumes filled the capsule during reentry. The brand lost consciousness, and the crew was hospitalized after splashdown. Despite this frightening conclusion of the mission, the astronauts quickly recovered and the mission was hailed as a diplomatic and technical success. 'A Little Bit Messy' A second Apollo-Soyuz mission was planned, but it never panned out. U.S.-Soviet tensions rose again during the late 1970s and into the 1980s. The countries did not directly team up again for years. However, both superpowers fostered new collaborations with their allies. During the 1980s, NASA space shuttle crews included Canadian, European, and Japanese astronauts, while the Soviet Union launched cosmonauts who came from Cuba, Poland, Vietnam, Afghanistan, and other countries. After the collapse of the Soviet Union, Americans and Russians again joined forces in space, first aboard the Mir space station in the early 1990s. The American-Russian partnership is now the backbone of the ISS, which has remained continuously inhabited since the year 2000. That outpost is in its twilight years. Russia is discussing building its own separate successor space station, and the U.S. is seeding commercial outposts in orbit — efforts that can make Apollo-Soyuz seem like a distant memory. But Krasnyak, the Russian international relations expert, said that the legacy of this mission, and cooperative space exploration in general, remains important to Russians 50 years later. Whether the U.S. and Russia partner on future human spaceflights or not, she noted that the two powers continue to be world leaders shaping international deliberations on space. Siddiqi, the historian of Russian spaceflight, views the 1975 U.S.-Soviet mission as a forerunner for the complex international partnerships that characterize modern spaceflight, even if it's in a 'roundabout way.' 'It was a little bit messy, but the road leads back to Apollo-Soyuz,' he said. 'Other historians would see it differently, as a kind of rupture or as a one-off, but I see a lot of continuities.' Odom, NASA's chief historian, does not see Apollo-Soyuz as a direct progenitor of the ISS, or of other subsequent space collaborations. From his perspective, the mission's legacy is grounded more in the context of a time when two feuding powers extended an olive branch into orbit, with repercussions for how their citizens viewed each other back on Earth. 'The people who were involved come away from it thinking about what cooperation really might mean,' Odom said. 'If we can cooperate with the Soviet Union in this way, we can cooperate with anyone.' The direct communication and interpersonal relationships were a powerful spinoff from the mission, Odom added. 'The thing that they come away with is that 'oh, you're human beings just like us,' he said. 'You're not the monsters that we imagined or feared that you would be. You're just people trying to do a job and go about your daily life.' This article originally appeared in
Indian Express
19-07-2025
- General
- Indian Express
From Khichdi-Khatta to Patthar ka Gosht, what Hyderabadi cuisine tells us about the city's multicultural past
Written by Shreya Saksena The year is 1725. It is a cool November morning in Hyderabad, a city founded by Mohammed Quli Qutb Shah. Bustling bylanes converge around Charminar, its tall minarets whispering stories of the Shah's triumph over a devastating plague. Beyond the towering structure, a flash of yellow flutters carelessly in the clear, blue sky. It is the flag of Mir Qamar-ud-din Khan Siddiqi, the first Nizam of Hyderabad. On it, sitting between two vivid stripes of yellow, is a large kulcha (flatbread). The symbol tells a curious story of how Siddiqi became the Nizam. The legend goes that before his rise to power, Siddiqi met a Pir (saint) who invited him to a daawat (feast) where he was served warm kulchas wrapped in a yellow cloth. Siddiqi, unable to resist, devoured seven. Watching him eat, the saint prophesied that he would one day become Nizam, and that his lineage would rule for seven generations. The prophecy came true, and Siddiqi became the first Nizam and founder of the Asaf Jahi Dynasty in 1724. Welcome to Hyderabad, the city of food It is 2025, and you are staring at the neon lights of Hotel Nayaab. The lights blink red and green in a steady rhythm, cutting through the hush of the sleepy city. It is only 4 am, yet a line already stretches along the narrow lanes of Chatta Bazaar in Old City. The scene vastly differs from 1725—Hyderabad is now wider, faster, and more crowded–but the four minarets still stand tall. Though the flag no longer flies above, three centuries later, the city beneath remains the same, a culinary mecca. Inside Hotel Nayaab, the kitchen stirs awake long before dawn. By 3 am, red and orange curries simmer in giant haandis (cooking pots), perfuming the air with clove and cardamom. On the opposite side, naans are rolled fresh and slapped onto the hot walls of a tandoor. Here, even breakfast carries the weight of legacy, and flavour can be found in conversations sprinkled with memories. 'Isko koi beat nahi kar paayega! (No one can beat this!),' declares Chef Rizwan Khader when asked about the uniqueness of Hyderabadi food. He adds that Hyderabad's tehzeeb (good manners) and mehmaan nawaazi (hospitality) make food the heart of community gatherings and relationship building. Food writer and chef Ruchira Hoon echoes Khader's assertion. She believes that eating is a living tradition. 'Isn't it the only possible tradition, other than folklore and folktale, which has some tangible effect on people? Because everybody has to eat. Food then tells a story of sustenance, memory, and living—a story which is passed down to us,' she says. The atmosphere at Nayaab reflects Hoon and Khader's sentiments. Its breakfast menu—Paya-Naan, Khichdi-Khatta, Keema-Roti—blends traditions shaped by centuries of migration, conquest, and adaptation. Paya is a rich goat trotter stew, tracing its roots to Central Asia's Pacha. As it travelled east between the 14th and 20th centuries, it took on new textures and spices, eventually becoming thicker and silkier in Hyderabad. With it comes the popular Char Koni Naan, the four-cornered bread from Purani Haveli kitchens, which is proofed for 24 hours and traditionally baked in underground tandoors. Some are star-shaped, others pan-shaped, each meant for different occasions. Naan is believed to have come to the city through the conquests of the Delhi Sultanate in the 14th century. The oldest naan store in Hyderabad, however, dates back to the era of the Nizam: Munshi Naan was established by Mohammed Hussain Saheb in 1851. Saheb was a munshi (clerk) during the rule of Bahadur Asif Jah, the fourth Nizam of Hyderabad. When his naan business gained popularity, people began calling it Munshi Naan. Then there's Khichdi-Khatta, Hyderabad's understated breakfast hero. To a North Indian palate, dry khichdi for breakfast might seem odd, but in Hyderabad, buttery lentil rice paired with Til Ka Kacha Khatta, a tangy sesame-peanut chutney, is a morning staple. Even 14th-century explorer Ibn Battuta noted, 'Munj is boiled with rice, then buttered and eaten. With the name Kishri, they have it for breakfast every day.' The exact origin of khichdi is difficult to ascertain. The earliest mentions of the dish can be found in the Mahabharata. However, it became widely popular during the Mughal rule, with Akbar, Jehangir, and Aurangzeb each having their preferred versions. Khichdi's hero accompaniment, a sour chutney, reflects the city's love for tang: a flavour motif that runs through Hyderabadi cuisine. As food historian Lizzie Collingham notes in an article in the Goya journal, early Deccani cuisine beautifully blended shredded coconut, curry leaves, fenugreek, and tamarind with foreign influences. It is said that the Nizams had a special fondness for breakfast, one that many Hyderabadis share even today. It's no surprise, then, that the breakfast menu of Hotel Nayaab is rooted in traditions that emerged—or were popularised—in the Nizam's kitchen. From royal kitchens to the common man's stove While paya and khichdi—steeped in legacy and a flair for reinvention—carry you through the morning, lunch tells stories of improvisation that are almost as rich as the food itself. Ask any local about Hyderabadi ingenuity, and you are likely to hear the story of Patthar ka Gosht, a dish born out of royal panic and roadside innovation, dating back to the rule of the sixth Nizam, Mir Mahboob Ali Khan Siddiqi, also known as Asaf Jah VI. Legend has it that the Nizam's cooks once forgot their tools on a hunting trip. Faced with hungry royalty and no skewers, they heated a stone over firewood and seared meat directly on it. Necessity became the mother of delicacy that day. Shaik Shoukat Vali, 44, who has lived in Hyderabad for the majority of his life and considers himself a true foodie, says that Patthar ka Gosht is among his favourite authentic Hyderabadi foods. 'I had it in a restaurant called Khan Saab, which I think is closed now. But, earlier, in the Old City, Patthar ka Gosht was never served in any hotels, it used to be cooked in the street—cooked on stones like how it was originally made—and served on the street too!' As Vali suggests, over the years, food from the Nizam's royal kitchen has become part of the everyday palate of the common man. Still, the stories don't fail to amaze and amuse. For instance, Falaknuma Palace, today a heritage hotel owned by the Taj group of hotels, was once the residence of Mir Mahboob Ali Khan Siddiqi. The converted hotel has retained the opulent taste of the Nizam, which is reflected in the Italianate entrance lobby and a library with a carved walnut roof. Most fascinating of all, however, is the Nizam's dining room. The room features a 101-seater dining table, the largest one in the world, adorned with rosewood carvings and green leather upholstery. The edges of the room's walls are decorated with paintings of royal delicacies—from peacock meat to biryani. People say that the Nizam would point to one of the 28 paintings depicting various food items in the 101 Dining Hall, and the royal chefs would prepare that dish for the day's meal. These dishes can be found in the Khwān Neʿmat-e Āṣafiya, a famous 19th-century cookbook with 680 recipes compiled by Ghulām Maḥbūb Ḥyderābādī, the manager of the kitchens of Nawab Sir Āsmān Jāh Bahādur, the prime minister of Hyderabad state from 1887 to 1894. It lists staggering demands: expensive saffron, special deghs (cauldrons), and as many as 20 ingredients ground into one masala. Until 1948, the last days of Nizam rule, these practices were upheld by khansamas (cooks). Chai pe Charcha In Hyderabad, as in the rest of the country, lunch is followed by the laziest hours of the afternoon. But the city reconvenes at 5 pm, when the sweet smell of milk, sugar, and cardamom pulls the locals from their afternoon slumber. Here, however, tea is not just a beverage. It is a way of being. While it boils over a low flame, stories are exchanged over plates of hot luqmi and bun maska. Luqmi, a Hyderabadi twist on the samosa, is a square, crusty pastry stuffed with spiced mutton mince—a nod to its Arabic root loqma, meaning morsel. Alongside it comes bun maska, a soft, buttered bun with roots in the Irani cafés established by Persian immigrants in the 18th and 19th centuries. These cafés, born from waves of migration and refuge, left behind not just architecture and tea culture, but an enduring affection for simple indulgences like bread, butter, and conversation. While luqmi and bun maska are served swaad anusaar or according to taste, the beloved Osmania biscuit—buttery, sweet, and salty—is ritualistically served on a white saucer with the milky Irani tea. It was created during the reign of the seventh Nizam, Mir Osman Ali Khan (1911–1948), when, during a hospital visit, he ordered biscuits to be served to recovering patients. Thus, a soft treat made of milk, cardamom, and flour was born. These biscuits are best enjoyed with Irani chai, introduced by Persian settlers in the 19th century. 'We have it (Irani chai) in our blood, and scores of cafes, big and small, serve thousands of cups of the delectable tea every day,' reads a Facebook post by Parsi Zoroastrians Worldwide. 'Be it the Grand Hotel, the Garden Restaurant or the new chain of Niloufer Cafes, Irani Chai drinking culture is deeply embedded in the ethos of Hyderabad.' Having grown up around Irani cafés, Yunus Lasania, historian and journalist, recalls the signature chai made of boiled milk and black tea liqueur, and the role they played as cultural equalisers. While aristocrats shaped the city's palate, he notes that it was in these modest cafés that the local cuisine actually thrived. Vali echoes Lasania's sentiment and puts it plainly: in the city, chai is a conversation, it is the first step towards forging a human connection; chai is sacred, and so is sharing it. 'One day, my friends and I went to drink tea, and there were five of us. So, I told the waiter to bring five teas. That's when my friend said, 'What are you doing? Five teas? No. Never. No one drinks a full cup of tea.' Then I learnt that if there are two people, order one cup of tea. If there are three people, order two cups. If there are five, order three cups and share. No one drinks the full tea,' Vali recounts, laughing. He adds, 'When you order tea, it is not like you drink it and leave. You can sit for hours in a hotel, and the owners would never tell you to go. You drink the tea. Then, when your friends come, you share the tea with them. That's how it works here.' Dum Biryani and Qubani ka Meetha: A Mughal legacy After a full day of large meals, it is still dinner when the crown jewels—living archives of the Qutb Shahi and Mughal histories of the city—come out. Hyderabadi Dum Biryani is the prime example of the city's syncretic cuisine. The Qutb Shahis, of Persian origin, introduced their culinary traditions to the Deccan, blending them with local spices to create a distinct biryani. Mughal techniques like layering and dum cooking influenced the dish, which was later refined and popularised under the Nizams. Today, the city's defining meal is a confluence of Mughlai methods and Southern spices: rose water, saffron, cloves, and cardamom. Biryani's beloved companion, Mirchi ka Salan—a bold, tangy curry of green chillies, peanuts, sesame, and tamarind—traces back to Emperor Akbar's coronation. Folklore says that Emperor Akbar's fondness for Mirchi ka Salan made it a highlight during his coronation festivities. The flavourful curry, crafted from green chillies, peanuts, sesame seeds, coconut, and tamarind, was reportedly introduced in the royal court by one of the chefs, and it caught the king's attention. The Asaf Jahi dynasty that ruled Hyderabad embraced this legacy, further enriching its flavours and solidifying its status as a culinary emblem of the region. Over time, the chutney became a staple in Hyderabadi cuisine, cherished for its harmonious balance of heat, tanginess, and nuttiness. Today, it remains an essential accompaniment to biryani. A vegetarian delicacy—almost as popular as biryani—that traces its roots to the Mughal rule is the Baghare Baingan: purple brinjal in a velvety peanut-coconut-tamarind gravy. 'Baghara' means to temper or infuse with flavour, and this dish from Tashkent became a staple between the 16th and 19th centuries. Another gift from the Mughals is Qubani ka Meetha, among Hyderabad's most cherished sweets. The apricot-kissed Qubani ka Meetha—made of stewed dried apricots, custard, and sometimes ice cream—is said to be a result of Emperor Babur's fondness for apricots, which Hyderabad adopted more enthusiastically than Delhi ever did. Despite early interaction with the expanding Mughal empire through trade and migration, Mughal rule was officially established in Hyderabad in 1687, when Emperor Aurangzeb annexed the Golconda Sultanate. Though the Mughals controlled the region, their governors eventually gained autonomy, giving rise to the Asaf Jahi dynasty. From this melding of dynasties and traditions came Haleem, a Yemeni import that Hyderabad made its own. Originally a breakfast for Arab guards in Barkas, it evolved into a Ramzan staple. Unlike its cousins in Kashmir and the Middle East, Hyderabad's version—rich, spiced, and slow-cooked—earned a Geographical Indication (GI) tag, becoming the first meat-based dish in the country to have a GI Tag. Migrants from Yemen, particularly Hadhrami Arabs, came to Hyderabad under the rule of the Nizams, serving as guards and settling in the Barkas neighbourhood. Today, this area remains a vibrant reminder of the Arab connection, housing over 3 lakh people of Yemeni and Arabian descent. Historian and columnist Sajjad Shahid summed up the city's culinary culture, saying, 'Hyderabadis are connoisseurs, and they love their food. They are not bothered about where it comes from. They adapt it to suit their own palate.' Generations of Hyderabadis would agree.
Memri
17-07-2025
- Politics
- Memri
Illinois Sermon By Professor Emeritus At Western Illinois University, Mohammad Ahmadullah Siddiqi: Why Are The '185,000 Jews Who Were Killed In Germany By The Nazis' Still Remembered, While Anyone In
Dr. Mohammad Ahmadullah Siddiqi, Professor Emeritus of Journalism and Public Relations at Western Illinois University (WIU) in Macomb, Illinois, delivered the Friday sermon as a guest speaker at the Al‑Aqsa Community Center on July 11, 2025. In his sermon, Siddiqi claimed that anyone in America who raises their voice about what he alleged to be more than 186,000 Palestinians killed by Israel is subject to arrest and deportation. Siddiqi further asserted that while "the 185,000 Jews who were killed in Germany by the Nazis" are still remembered, this was over the course of seven years, whereas, he claimed, 186,000 Muslim Palestinians were killed in seven months. Dr. Siddiqi is an interfaith leader and a founding member of the World Council for Muslim Interfaith Relations (WCMIR), and he is the founder and former president of the Islamic Center of Macomb. Dr. Mohammad Ahmadullah Siddiqi: "Why did it happen that the 185,000 Jews who were killed in Germany by the Nazis – they are still remembered, and 186,000 Muslims... Those 185,000 Jews were killed in seven years, and in seven months Israel has killed more than 186,000 Palestinians. In this country, you cannot raise your voice. [If you do], you are being deported, you are being arrested."
Express Tribune
16-06-2025
- Politics
- Express Tribune
'ECP justified in case of 41 candidates'
The constitutional bench (CB) of the Supreme Court on Monday issued notices to respondents on a petition filed by the PTI led Khyber Pakhtunkhwa government to become a party in a case related to allocation of reserved seats to Imran Khan's party. During the hearing, the counsel for the Sunni Ittehad Council (SIC)a party comprising PTI-backed independent parliamentariansstated that the SIC intended to file a review petition against the CB's decision to dismiss its objections to the bench. The eleven-member CB, led by Justice Aminuddin Khan, heard the petitions challenging the SC's July 2024 majority order for allocation of reserved seats to the PTI. At the outset, Justice Khan remarked that the SC granted a relief to the PTI initially meant for the SIC. On January 13, 2024, a three-member SC bench upheld the Election Commission of Pakistan's (ECP) December 22, 2023 order declaring the PTI's intra-party polls null and void. Later, the PTI candidates had to contest the February 8, 2024 general elections as independents. Eighty such independent candidates reached the National Assembly and later joined the SIC in an apparent bid to claim reserved seats for women and minorities. The ECP, however, refused to allocate the seats to the party, a decision that the SIC challenged in the Supreme Court. On July 12, 2024, a full bench of the apex court through a majority of 8 to 5 resurrected the PTI as a parliamentary party, noting that 39 of the lawmakers who had submitted certificates of their affiliation with the PTI along with their nomination papers were already PTI lawmakers. The SC ruled that the remaining 41 lawmakers who had not submitted the affiliation certificates at the time of nomination papers' submission could do that now within a period of 15 days. The ruling coalition later filed a review petition against the SC ruling, which the CB took up in May. During the hearing, Justice Jamal Khan Mandokhail observed that the SC verdict came on January 13, whereas nomination papers were submitted in December, and many candidates had then declared their independent status. Siddiqi responded that the ECP had withdrawn PTI's symbol on December 22, 2023. He said all 11 judges of the SC larger bench had stated the ECP's decision to declare PTI members as independents was illegal. Justice Mandokhail remarked that the agreement among the 11 judges applied only to those members who had submitted nomination papers and party tickets from the PTI. "Only 14 PTI candidates had submitted the party certificate but we assumed that perhaps others had also submitted it and it may have been misplaced. That was why we considered 39 members." The court adjourned the hearing until today. Siddiqi will resume his arguments on behalf of the SIC.
