Tag Archives: Pakistan

Olper’s debunks myths regarding packaged milk

6 Oct

In Pakistan, we are all used to hearing all sorts of negative things about packaged milk. For example, packaged milk is not actually milk but a mixture of detergent and milk powder, or that there are dangerous chemicals in the processing of packaged milk. Some people have gone so far that they filed petitions in the High Court asking for a ban on all packaged milk products. All these petitions were dismissed by the court. But the general public is still not convinced. So what is the reality behind packaged milk, and where does this milk actually come from?

This Saturday, Olper’s took bloggers from Lahore on a journey called #SachKaSafar in which they took us to their different facilities, debunking all the myths about packaged milk.

Where does the milk come from?

Our first stop was a small village near Sahiwal, where Olper’s has a milk collection center. The local farmers deliver fresh milk everyday to the milk collection center. Different tests are performed on every supplier’s milk to make sure that it is safe for consumption. Olper’s has more than 1500 such facilities in different parts of the country. The employees there are fully trained about safety and hygiene standards.

All the milk is kept in chillers to make sure it doesn’t get spoiled. It is then transferred to a facility called the Area Office. Olper’s has 24 such facilities all over Pakistan, which make sure that the collected milk from surrounding Milk Collection Centers meets the highest of standards before it is passed on for processing. At the Area Office, 24 different tests are performed on the milk to ensure that it is safe for consumption. If the milk doesn’t pass anyone of these tests, then it is rejected and disposed off.

Bloggers at the Area Office

This all looked too good to be true to most of us though. Because we still had hundreds of questions in our minds about the final product that is sold to the customers. Everybody knows that natural milk produces cream when it is boiled, but packaged milk produces no cream upon boiling. Also, there’s no way milk can stay fresh for 3 months in packages that are not even refrigerated. What is done during the processing of the milk that changes its natural behaviour?

We asked all these questions when we reached the Olper’s milk processing plant in Sahiwal, which was the final destination of our #SachKaSafar. Not only did our hosts encourage all these questions, but they also explained all the process in depth, leaving no doubt about the high standards that are followed by Olper’s.

Olper's Milk Processing Plant in Sahiwal

Olper’s Milk Processing Plant in Sahiwal

I’ll try answering some of these questions here.

Boiling loose milk kills all the bacteria in it. So why should we buy packaged milk?

In our kitchens, we boil the milk at very high temperatures. It certainly kills the bacteria. But this process also deprives us of many essential vitamins and nutrients. At Olper’s facility, the milk undergoes a process called UHT, in which the milk is heated at around 140°C for 2 seconds, after which it is cooled. This process kills all the bacteria in the milk but also maintains the essential vitamins and nutrients. Packaged milk sold all over the world goes through this process.

What happens to the cream in the milk?

When we boil milk at home, it forms cream at the surface. But that is not the case with packaged milk. This is because packaged milk products like Olper’s are homogenized, which means that the milk is processed in such a way that all its particles become the same size, giving it a consistent and smooth texture. Homogenization ensures that every gulp of milk is full of richness.

How does the milk stay fresh for 3 months?

The milk is packed in Tetra Pak, which has 7 layers of packaging. This ensures that the milk stays fresh and free from bacteria even when it is not refrigerated.

In conclusion, I can only say that Olper’s milk is completely safe for consumption and probably the best in market. If you too are sick of your doodhwala mixing too much water in your milk, then Olper’s milk is the best choice out there.


#djuiceMMF gives new life to Lahore!

7 May

30th of April, 2016 is a date that the youth of Lahore will remember for a long time, for on this fine Saturday evening, hundreds of Lahoris gathered just to basically have some fun.

Yes, this is about the much talked about event called the djuice Mango Musik Festival. djuice Pakistan is a telco brand that focuses on the empowerment of youth and provides them with exciting new entertainment and lifestyle opportunities. One such initiative by djuice Pakistan was the djuice Mango Musik Festival.


The one of its kind musical night featured well known DJs from Germany and Pakistan. Matthias Meyer, Luna City Express and Jesse Maverick flew in exclusively to bring some life to the party. The local talent included Fawad Khan, Bilal Brohi, Faisal Baig, Talha Humayun and Fuzzy Nocturnal.

The massive projection display, which was home to the DJs, was one of the highlights of the event. It surely looked like an event that could take place in any part of the world without changing anything. There is no denying that the dance floors, the VIP lounges and the security were top class.


The djuice Mango Musik Festival was the union of technology, music and the digital lifestyle. There were large SMD screens all around that displayed tweets posted by the crowd with the hashtag #djuiceMMF. Moreover, there was free djuice internet for everyone at the venue, which allowed people to share updates on social media in real time.

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Where am I... #djuiceMMF

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The fireworks during the DJs’ performances were a plus. These performances were followed by an air show with planes giving out giveaways. It seemed like there was no end to this amazing night.

The festival started around 8PM but went to go on till 8AM, which is the first of its kind in Pakistan. The passion and energy of the audience came as a pleasant surprise and indicated that the event was a massive success.

Nestlé Educates the Public on Infant Nutrition

1 Nov

When large corporations such as Nestlé hold public events, one generally expects them to be a product launch ceremony. That is why when Nestlé invited bloggers from Lahore on 17th of October for an event that was more of an awareness session, I was met by surprise. No Nestlé products were put on display, neither did any of the organizers or the speakers encourage the audience to buy certain Nestlé products.

Titled “Start Healthy, Stay Healthy: #First1000Days,” the event organized by The Digital Factory presented the general public with an opportunity to learn about infant nutrition, from the child’s first day in his/her mother’s womb. It was emphasized that a child’s basic nutrition starts before being officially born.


Dr. Huma Fahim, who is Nestlé Pakistan’s medical adviser, and Shah Majeeb-ud-Din, the company’s country compliance manager, explained several things about the role of a mother in a child’s early growth, strongly emphasizing on the point that breast milk is the best food for the babies. Besides strengthening their immune system, it also helps in developing strong bones among other things. Scientists and nutritionists all over the world recognize the significance of breast milk in a child’s early growth. It was further discussed how the traditional lifestyle of Pakistani mothers adversely affects their children, adding that the average height of Pakistanis has fallen by four inches in the last four decades. Meanwhile, obesity has also increased by alarming levels, with Pakistanis now being the 9th most obese nation in the world.

Attendees pose for a group photo.

Attendees pose for a group photo.

The presentations were followed by an interactive Q&A session during which several myths were discussed (and discarded) and other queries by bloggers were answered by Dr. Huma.

Overall, the event was a success and it showed Nestlé’s dedication towards making a positive contribution in the society by educating the public about basic things we often do not pay attention to.

But Then Again, No!

21 Dec
"Strictly speaking, I took an arrow to the knee."

"Strictly speaking, I took an arrow to the knee."

When it comes to Pakistani politics, I have never been able to form an opinion that I can be assertive about. The promises. The boisterous speeches. The rallies. The dogmatic claims. The critics. The analysts. But the critics mostly. This massive cloud of uncertainty leads me nowhere. Who is the most credible? Who is the most candid? Who is duplicitous? Then there are those wannabe-critics who come up with the words ‘cynic’ and ‘troll’ for others when they can’t support their position with sound logic. Indecisiveness is a word which accurately describes my mental state.

Until recently, I used to be a person without any communication skills at all. I never dared to speak a word because I believed that my opinion would be met with mocking laughter and disbelief. I didn’t have a direction to follow. I had a readiness to believe in everyone. But then I started building up a taste and an opinion that would be my own, uninfluenced by any external pressure. I developed my own tastes in music, poetry, prose, cars and food, to name a few, but never did I form a truly independent opinion about politics.

The fact that the commentators on Pakistani politics enjoy so much support relies upon the theory that this country’s rulers will never grow up, which is backed by a history of more than 64 years. The military coups. The injustices. The prejudiced dictators. The alienation of East and West. The corrupt democratic rulers. The endless blame-games. The growing sensationalism in media. The plethora of adamant self-proclaimed ‘independent analysts’ writing articles for internet-based newspapers.

Everyone has an opinion; no one knows what’s it worth. Everyone has a problem; no one has a solution. Everyone has followers; no one has a direction. Will I ever reach a conclusion?

Where Do We End Up?

19 Dec

“What kind of university is going to accept us with these grades?”
“We don’t have to worry about the grades as long as we do well in the entrance tests, which we surely will.”

Back in school, I used to be everyone’s dose of optimism. Got rejected by a girl? Oh, no worries! That girl from 11th grade seems to be quite interested in you. Can’t solve an Integration problem? Visit me this weekend and we’ll figure it out. Not prepared for the presentation? Copy my notes. Don’t have a girlfriend? Cool story, bro! I don’t have one either. Need help with an assignment? If you’re a girl, I’ll do it for you.

"So Aadil, I was thinking if you could... umm... I don't know how to say this... if you could do my homework?"

"So Aadil, I was thinking if you could... umm... I don't know how to say this... if you could do my homework?"

I was ambitious, but I didn’t have a map. I used to have lengthy discussions with friends, all pondering over where we were supposed to end up after school. Everyone wanted to get to the rooftop; no one knew where exactly the staircase was. Often, we found ourselves bragging, “If I were the president, I would do blah blah blah.” Sometimes in the library, we were found rewriting the constitution of Pakistan, not reaching a consensus on any single point. A few of us were exceptionally talented, in our own words, when it came to Urdu poetry. The bad part, however, was that we didn’t have anything to write about, apart from our failed ‘love stories’.

"Your draft of the constitution says that the president must have paedophilia. Well, why not necrophilia?"

"Your draft of the constitution says that the president must have paedophilia. Well, why not necrophilia?"

Then, one (not very) fine day, we found ourselves standing beneath the sun. The competition. The spectators. The failures. All of a sudden, we knew precisely how to differentiate one from another. When we faced the mirror, it had a big “YOU ARE A SPECTATOR” written over it.

Back When We Existed

5 Oct

The renovated building, the illuminated balconies and various new tweaks to the structure are never going to bring back the liveliness that once used to be, back when we existed.

The world I once belonged to.

The world I once belonged to.

The feeling that hurts the most when you revisit the neighbourhood where you spent all your childhood, is when you find out that things are not the same anymore. Almost all the people you knew have moved out; some have left Pakistan forever, others have been replaced. This is how life works after all; one keeps getting replaced.

“So what do you guys do all day long?” I asked the remaining three of my childhood friends who still hadn’t moved out.
“We stay at home,” replied Hash. “We rarely see each other now.”

This was heartbreaking. There was a time when we never liked to stay at home, unless we had exams. We always had something to keep us entertained. (And by ‘we’, I mean almost a couple dozen of kids.) The bond between us was unbreakable. Flying kites on Basant, racing each other with our roller-skates, playing badminton outdoors, playing cricket on overcast mornings, getting into fights while playing football and not speaking to each other for days, playing hide and seek around the entire neighbourhood especially when the nights were dark, riding bicycles without holding their handles, getting our parents’ rebuke for staying out of home all day long, etc. was our normal routine. When we felt immensely bored and had nothing to do, we rang random doorbells and ran away. Sometimes we got caught but mostly, we got away.

What is more heartbreaking is that Hash just recently moved out of there, and he didn’t even let me know, and still hasn’t spoken to me. We always used to host farewell parties for people who moved out of the neighbourhood, but Hash didn’t even attend his farewell party. (The fact that I was not informed about the party itself is another story.)

I have always been unwelcoming to the changes in life, especially when they’re about the things that I truly adore. I truly adored the days when our clan was the gem of the neighbourhood, when our birthday parties were not just cake-cutting ceremonies but much more, when Dark Room was the scariest game to be played, when Brian Lara ’99 was our favourite PC game, and when the one with most number of toys was considered the coolest.

I miss the tourist buses that passed through Jail Road, which mostly included international cricket teams heading for Gaddafi Stadium. I miss how the road was blocked only because of Pervez Musharraf and foreign diplomats, not to forget how the road’s lane-markings were repainted only to give a good impression to the diplomats. I miss standing on the building’s rooftop and searching for Lahore’s famous buildings; Gaddafi Stadium’s floodlights and Wapda House were the easiest to find. I miss the time, back when we existed.

Another Traffic-Light Stranger

28 Sep

Who says you can’t fall in love again once your heart has been played with? You fall in love everyday.

I often fascinate about how I come across so many people everyday, whom I will most probably never meet again. These strangers might not mean anything to us, but sometimes they leave their mark on our lives; they make us realize that the world is not as shallow as the image of it we have in our minds.

On my last day of 11th grade, in early 2010, me and a friend were waiting outside Quaid-e-Azam Complex (Hyderabad) for my friend’s driver, who was to pick us from there an hour back.

I remember how we always took a long path back home, how we cracked jokes with soldiers inside the Cantonment, how we talked about the same topics every single day and still did not get tired, how we bought drinks from a grocery store in the Cantonment instead of buying them from our school’s canteen, and how we once left our drinks inside a refrigerator at an army check-post.

Anyway, while both of us waited for the driver, we came across a cop. He started conversing to us in a friendly manner. He then wrote something on his palm and asked us its meaning. We couldn’t figure it out. Now I neither remember the text nor its meaning, but he told us that it was Dutch. An ordinary Pakistani cop who knew Dutch!

Shut up! Do I look like I know Dutch?

Shut up! Do I look like I know Dutch?

Earlier this year, during our last days of 12th grade classes, we had a 25-minute conversation with a teacher (who taught our juniors) after the Physics class, which was the last class of the day.

“What’s the use of your life when your purpose is to only have a bunch of grandchildren before you die?”

Even though my participation in the talk was hardly noticeable, but it left a big mark on my mentality. He also asserted that he was going to be the next big thing after Dr. Abdul Qadeer Khan. (Don’t judge me. I still haven’t decided whether I like AQ Khan or not.) So if you ever see a Hyderabadi scientist on TV, you know who he is. (Though I’m not too sure if he really is going to be the next big thing.)

And then there are people we never get to speak to. We only see them for a few seconds and off we head to our respective destinations. I refer to them as ‘traffic-light strangers’. I can’t speak for the rest of the humanity, but I imagine a thousand different scenarios during these few seconds.

“Dear God! That girl is pretty. *imagines getting married to her* *imagines dating her* *imagines talking to her about literature* *imagines going to her place for a rishta* *imagines her getting out of her car and getting into mine* *imagines having dinner at her house with her parents* Okay stop it, dude. Green light in 5 seconds. 5 – 4 – 3 – 2 – 1. *pushes the accelerator and releases the clutch* Next traffic-signal in about 500 meters…”

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