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Arab News
a day ago
- Entertainment
- Arab News
From pavement to passion: Islamabad's young skateboarders push for recognition
ISLAMABAD: On a hot summer afternoon in Islamabad's F-9 Park, laughter echoed across the cracked concrete as teenagers cruised over curbs and kick-flipped their boards with casual defiance. For this small but growing community of skateboarders in the Pakistani capital, the pavement is a playground — and a protest. Globally, skateboarding has long been associated with youth culture. It is a sport that thrives in urban settings and offers young people a sense of identity, freedom, and creative expression. Since its rise in the United States in the 1960s, it has evolved into a global movement, now part of the Olympic Games and supported by thriving communities from Brazil to Japan. In this context, Pakistan is fertile ground for the growth of skateboarding — a nation of over 240 million people where nearly 64% of the population is under the age of 30. But the country does not officially recognize skateboarding as a sport. Its official game is field hockey but cricket dominates pitches, TV screens and public discourse. Other sports like football, badminton and volleyball enjoy some government support but skateboarding remains entirely on the fringes. 'There's not even one dedicated skate shop in Pakistan,' said Ali Hamza, a 21-year-old engineering student who founded Skate Pakistan, a grassroots movement using Instagram to grow and connect the local skate scene. 'It's still seen by many as a toy.' Hamza's Instagram page, started in 2021 'just to see if anyone else was skating,' soon connected him to others across Islamabad and beyond. Today, Skate Pakistan meetups attract 12–15 regulars, with larger competitions drawing dozens. Most participants are teenagers with limited access to professional training or gear, and the initiative is driven entirely by volunteers and enthusiasts, growing into a fledgling community of teens and young adults passionate about the sport and eager to see it taken seriously. Hamza's own introduction to skateboarding came through Hollywood films as a child. At the time, he assumed the aerial tricks were camera tricks. 'Honestly, I used to think it was fake,' he said, laughing. 'Like, how can a board that's not even attached to your feet fly up like that?' Curious, he bought a cheap board from a local sports shop in 2019. With no coaches or skateparks in Islamabad, Hamza turned to YouTube tutorials and online courses to learn the basics. 'My first day on the board, my father was holding one arm and my brother held the other. I was just praying I wouldn't fall,' he said. Fall he did and repeatedly. But with each tumble, he said, the fear wore off. 'The more I fell, the more this fear lessened.' While Pakistan has a few modest skateparks — including one in Skardu, Gilgit-Baltistan, and another set up with German NGO support in Karachi in 2020 — most skateboarders still ride on sidewalks, underpasses, or abandoned lots. Security guards at parks often ask them to leave. Potholes, rough terrain, and broken pavement pose daily hazards. But the lack of infrastructure and support hasn't stopped the community from growing. 'I mean, it's fun, it's something physical, you're out with your friends, so why not?' said Hasaan Khan, 16, a regular at the sessions held in Islamabad's F-9 park. 'Skateboarding builds up your endurance, since you keep falling over and over again,' added Rija Mughal, also 16. 'It's pretty good for your physical health too.' BUILDING A MOVEMENT For many, skateboarding took off during COVID-19, when lockdowns closed schools and sports grounds. 'I found an old skateboard at home during COVID, had nothing else to do, so I started riding around,' said Ahmed Ali Rana, who was 13 at the time. 'It just clicked.' Rana said he was nervous at his first Skate Pakistan competition but was surprised by how welcoming everyone was. 'That's the best part. It's not just about the sport, it's about the friends and the community.' Zayan Nadir, another teen skater, said skating gave him a mental escape: 'It helps people get away from their problems. But to build a bigger community in Pakistan, you need more skate shops, more skate parks, and more freedom for skaters.' Currently, there's no national or provincial skateboarding federation, and the Pakistan Sports Board does not include the sport in its list of recognized disciplines. In contrast, neighboring India has had multiple international skateboarding events and boasts over two dozen skateparks, including some that cater to underprivileged youth. The inclusion of skateboarding in the Tokyo 2020 Olympic Games also helped raise its profile globally, particularly among younger audiences. Yet, in Pakistan, there is little official recognition, funding, or visibility. Hamza said public perception also remained a big hurdle. 'There's still this idea that a skateboard is a toy, not a sport,' he said. 'That's what we are trying to change through social media.' At a recent meetup, teenagers practiced ollies and kick turns on a concrete ramp while others filmed slow-motion footage for Instagram reels. There were no referees, no medals — just scratched boards, scraped knees, and smiles. Hamza said the goal now was to push for formal recognition and better infrastructure so more young people across Pakistan could skate without obstacles — literal or social. 'We just want people to see that this is serious,' he said. 'It deserves space, support and respect.'
Daily Mail
20-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Daily Mail
The secret emoji code Gen Z are using to confuse older generations: Youngsters ditch 'mainstream' characters for bizarre alternatives - so, do you know what they mean?
From 'skibidi' to 'rizz', it's safe to say that many members of Generation Z have their own language. Now, it seems that youngsters are also changing the way they use emoji. In an attempt to confuse the older generations, Gen Z are ditching 'mainstream' emoji in favour of bizarre alternatives. 'For the predominantly younger-skewing "chronically online," riding the wave of emerging trends helps forge identity and create distance from the "out-of-touch" older generations,' explained Emojipedia. 'In a culture shaped by brainrot, post-irony, and existential dread, avoiding the mainstream is a badge of honor. 'Creating underground memes and micro-viral moments that distinguish an in-the-know in-group from outsiders can be mini-milestones in establishing a generation's internet identity, leaving others on the outside feeling confused and out of the loop, often intentionally so.' Emojipedia has revealed three of the most unusual alternatives Gen Z are secretly using. So, do you know what these emoji really mean? Wilted rose emoji The broken heart emoji is usually the go-to character to convey sadness. But for Gen Z, the wilted rose has been deemed this emoji's cooler alternative. 'The Wilted Flower emoji, sometimes called the "dead rose" or the "dead flower," was deemed the chosen emoji to convey sadness, replacing the Broken Heart,' explained Emojpedia. 'The trend began in late February 2025, when a series of memes clowning on the overuse of the heartbreak emoji as too mainstream an emblem of performative sadness took root.' However, this alternative has caused much confusion amongst older social media users. Taking to TikTok, one user asked: 'What's up with this rose emoji and why is everyone using it? I'm seeing it way more and more recently - I don't get it at all.' Another said: 'Clearly somebody in the tech space has it out for me. That can be the only explanation for why that wilted rose emoji is being used so much right now.' One of the most bizarre alternatives being used by Gen Z is the chair emoji. Instead of symbolising furniture, the chair is used in place of the laughing emoji Chair emoji One of the most bizarre alternatives being used by Gen Z is the chair emoji. Instead of symbolising furniture, the chair is used in place of the laughing emoji. This trend dates back to 2021, when TikToker Anthony Mai proposed spamming KSI with the chair emoji as a stand-in for the classic Crying Laughing Face emoji. 'Within the following days, the chair-for-laughter joke had spread like wildfire across social media, with Chair emojis popping up all over TikTok video comments and as the subjects of videos themselves, confusing much of the internet at large,' Emojipedia said. Like the wilted flower emoji, the chair's proliferation has sparked confusion among people who haven't seen Mr Mai's video. 'Why is everyone using the chair emoji as laughing emoji?' one user questioned. Another added: 'Can someone pls explain why everyone keeps putting CHAIR EMOJIS? I'm so confused.' Aerial tramway emoji The aerial tramway emoji is one of the least-used characters. And that's exactly why it has become popular among Gen Z - who are using it instead of the laughing emoji. Inspired by Anthony Mai, YouTuber John Casterline posted a video urging people to use the aerial tramway as a replacement for the Crying Laughing Face. 'I came up with a plan where we can make this emoji one of the most used emojis, at least on YouTube,' he explained in the video. 'It's pretty simple. Instead of using laughing emojis from now on replace it with this. 'And if someone doesn't know why you're doing it, don't tell them. 'Let's just confuse every person who hasn't seen this video.' Despite only being posted one month ago, Mr Casterline's video has already wracked up over six million views - with the aerial tramway emoji flooding YouTube. 'The aerial-tramway-for-laughter meme has proven again that the seemingly meaningless Gen Z humor in its manifestation as the emoji replacement paradigm meme resonates with at least some users, time after time,' Emojipedia said.
Bloomberg
12-06-2025
- Health
- Bloomberg
The $7 Billion Nicotine-Pouch Market's Next Target? Women
At Odenplan Square in central Stockholm, high school students move in packs, enjoying a day off and the early spring weather. Even though graduation is still weeks away, some seniors are already sporting their celebratory caps, per Swedish tradition. One of them is 19-year-old Olivia Persson, who, in addition to wearing the sailor-style hat, carries a bright tin of nicotine pouches. So do most of the other girls in her crew, each in turn showing off colorful containers with peach and apple-mint flavors tucked into pockets and purses. 'It's just fun,' Persson says of the Chiclet-size packets, or tobacco-free snus, that users tuck between their gums and lips for a quick hit of nicotine. 'You feel more alert, and everyone does it, so it's easy to think, 'How bad can it be?' '
The Guardian
09-06-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
The Way We Talk review – sensitive drama explores deafness via three friends' infectious warmth
An incisive film-maker with a keen eye for contemporary youth culture, Hong Kong director Adam Wong has returned with another sensitive ensemble drama. The film follows three twentysomething friends as they navigate various degrees of deafness. Alan, played by first-time deaf actor Marco Ng, is a cochlear implant (CI) user. He is also an ambassador for the surgery, which can help restore sound perception for those with hearing loss. Wolf (Neo Yau), his childhood friend, is a staunch user and supporter of sign language, which at one point was prohibited in local deaf schools; such institutions prioritised speech training, then believed to work better for hearing-impaired students. Sophie (Chung Suet Ying) is at a crossroads: she is a CI user who cannot sign, but yearns to learn. It would, of course, be simplistic to portray these different forms of communication as inherently at odds with one another; instead, Wong's film emphasises that, whether it is CI surgery or sign language, deaf people must be granted the autonomy to make these decisions on their own. Besides posing these thought-provoking questions, Wong also constructs rich inner worlds for these characters, in which deafness is only one thread of a whole tapestry. Wolf's passion for the sea, for instance, is felt in the smallest of details, such as the ocean-themed trinkets that line his study desk. It's the kind of visual attention that renders his dismissal from a diving school due to a lack of sign language interpreters even more heartbreaking. Like many films dealing with social issues, The Way We Talk is not without its moments of didacticism, but the easy chemistry between the three leads lends the film a natural, infectious warmth that engagingly foregrounds its message of community. The Way We Talk is in UK cinemas from 13 June.
New York Times
04-06-2025
- Entertainment
- New York Times
Can Embracing Punk Save Gen Z — and Our Flailing Country?
The writer and performer John Cameron Mitchell has a message for members of Generation Z: Stop playing it safe and embrace punk. Mitchell, who wrote 'Hedwig and the Angry Inch,' sits down with Opinion's deputy editorial director of culture, Carl Swanson, to talk about what he learned touring around the country and talking with college students about rebellion. Below is a transcript of an episode of 'The Opinions.' We recommend listening to it in its original form for the full effect. You can do so using the player above or on the NYT Audio app, Apple, Spotify, Amazon Music, YouTube, iHeartRadio or wherever you get your podcasts. The transcript has been lightly edited for length and clarity. Please note: parts of this conversation contain strong language. Carl Swanson: My name is Carl Swanson, and I'm the deputy editorial director for culture at Times Opinion. We are only four months into the second Trump administration, so it's too early to say what the cultural response will be, but it's not too early to ask the question: What should the response be from art, music and from youth culture? The actor, writer and director John Cameron Mitchell recently wrote an essay for us with an answer to that question: 'Today's Young People Need to Learn How to Be Punk.' Want all of The Times? Subscribe.
