Muhammad Usman Amin

PESHAWAR: Across the globe, Silicon Valley tech companies are investing billions to build the future of artificial intelligence, making headlines. But in Peshawar, two university students are challenging the status quo with grit, determination, and a bit of prize money from national hackathons. Muhammad Uzair and Junaid Ahmed, both fourth-semester computer science students at Peshawar University and both cousins, have built AI models designed specifically for the Pashto language.&nbsp; With over 60 million speakers worldwide, especially in Pakistan, Afghanistan and the Middle East, Pashto has been poorly integrated by major AI platforms like ChatGPT and Gemini. The lack of Pashto data online for training AI models means that the more established AI giants often mix it up with Arabic or Persian because of their similar scripts. Recognizing this digital niche, Uzair and Junaid decided to take matters into their own hands. Uzair&#39;s solution is &quot;Katib-ASR,&quot; an Automatic Speech Recognition (ASR) model. Katib is the traditional word for scribe as the model writes down what it hears, converting spoken Pashto audio directly into accurate Pashto script. Building it was a huge linguistic hurdle. Pashto features 45 letters, including more than half a dozen variations of a single letter like &quot;Ye&rdquo;. Because relevant datasets didn&#39;t exist, Uzair had to build his own from scratch. He pulled audio from regional podcasts, generated it himself and with friends and family or found it online and clipped it into tiny segments to teach his model how specific sounds correspond to text.&nbsp; Currently sitting at an impressive 75%-80% accuracy, Uzair&rsquo;s goal is to further refine the model and eventually introduce text-to-speech and other capabilities for Pashto speakers. Meanwhile, his cousin Junaid faced a similar problem with text generation. His focus is &quot;Qehwa AI,&quot; a text-generation model named after the region&#39;s famous traditional tea. Junaid scraped every corner of the internet for Pashto text, translated entire books from English and Urdu and compiled an astonishing 1.5 billion words. According to Junaid, this makes it the largest Pashto dataset.&nbsp; By feeding this massive library into an open-source base model, he has created an AI that understands the deep context, literature, cultural nuances and history of the language.&nbsp; Whether you prompt it in English, Urdu, or Pashto, Qehwa AI processes the information and responds in Pashto. Since it is specifically trained on Pashto, Junaid claims that Qehwa AI outperforms global models in Pashto translation and summarization tasks. According to the two developers, training AI requires immense computational power, usually found in massive data centers. When the duo approached local institutions for help, they found a lack of supercomputers or advanced graphics cards (GPUs). And lack of funds was also a major obstacle.&nbsp; The idea they came up with was to compete in major national Hackathons, win and use that money. And win they did. They pooled their prize money -- nearly Rs200,000 -- and used it to rent cloud-based GPUs. Grassroots, self-funded operation.&nbsp; Going forward, both students see this as just the beginning. While Uzair aims to perfect the audio mechanics, Junaid plans to expand his model to include other regional languages like Punjabi, Sindhi, and Balochi, ultimately creating a unified AI for all Pakistani languages. In a world where AI is dominated by corporate conglomerates, Uzair and Junaid are a reminder that actual innovation can often start with limited funds and resources, and a drive to empower and represent one&#39;s own culture, land and language on a global level.

Artificial Intelligence

Two computer science students at Peshawar University have built AI models specifically designed for the Pashto language. 

How two students are putting Pashto AI on the world map

PESHAWAR: In cities like London, tea is an art of high society; in Rome, espresso punctuates the day; in Istanbul, &ccedil;ay fuels conversation. But in Peshawar, the bustling heart of Pakistan&rsquo;s northwestern Khyber Pakhtunkhwa province, a unique hot beverage, kahwa, defines the rhythm of daily life. More than a drink, kahwa is a social lubricant, a seal of a deal, and the first gesture of hospitality, a tradition carried along the Silk Road from East Asia centuries ago. It has survived the rise and fall of empires, remaining central to the city&rsquo;s culture and commerce. The historic Qissa Khwani Bazaar, or &ldquo;Street of Storytellers,&rdquo; is where kahwa culture thrives. Here, merchants, storytellers, and travelers once gathered, and where Fazal Karim, a local Kahwa shop owner, traces the practice back generations. &ldquo;Caravans used to come from Afghanistan back in the day&hellip; the city gates would be closed at night. To wait for them to open in the morning, people would tell stories&hellip; and during these stories, kahwa would also be served,&rdquo; he told Pakistan TV Digital. &ldquo;It became inseparable from the bazaar itself.&rdquo; Even today, travelers seek the experience. Karim recalls visits from foreign diplomats: &ldquo;Tourists come all the time to try a cup of our Kahwa. They really like the taste.&rdquo; Many kahwa houses, some dating back 170 years, continue to operate in the same locations. Jamdad Khan, another long-standing shop owner, reflects: &ldquo;This shop in Qissa Khwani Bazaar is one of the oldest; the bazaar has changed, but the shop has stayed the same.&rdquo; Stepping inside a traditional Kahwakhana is a journey through time. The air is heavy with the aroma of cardamom and wood smoke, rising from massive copper samovars that constantly bubble with boiling water. Kahwa is served in green teapots called chainaks and sipped from delicate bone china cups. Rituals of service, pouring boiling Kahwa into successive cups to rinse them before the first sip, preserve the centuries-old tradition. In the narrow bazaar alleys, young boys navigate the crowd carrying trays of kahwa, a testament to how deeply the drink permeates commerce and daily life. Tourists like Yashal are struck by the ambience: &ldquo;It genuinely feels like a second home&hellip; so many people have been here before us, in buildings that are 200&ndash;300 years old.&rdquo; The recipe is simple, green tea, cardamom, and sugar, yet its significance is profound. Fazal Karim notes its health benefits: &ldquo;Kahwa is very good for digestion after a meal. It also reduces weight.&rdquo; While Pakistan imports much of its Kahwa, local vendors praise Vietnamese Kahwa for its flavor, underscoring the city&rsquo;s pursuit of quality in every cup. Whether for taste, wellness, or connection to history, Kahwa remains the soul of Peshawar, a tradition flowing hot and strong through the city&rsquo;s streets. A reminder that even as empires rise and fall, the simple pleasure of a cup of tea endures.

Culture

Kahwa culture, centered in Peshawar’s Qissa Khwani Bazaar, blends history, hospitality, and commerce, with traditional green tea serving as a social, cultural, and culinary staple.

Peshawar’s kahwa tradition endures centuries, blending culture, hospitality and history

PESHAWAR: In the bustling, historic heart of Peshawar, where centuries of faith and culture converge, two sacred buildings stand face to face within the ancient Gor Khatri complex, separated by only a few meters, yet united by generations of shared history.&nbsp;On one side stands the Goraknath Mandir, a centuries-old Hindu temple: on the other, the Abu Hanifa Mosque. Their sun-streaked walls hold stories of coexistence and quiet respect in a region too often defined by its struggles.&nbsp;For as long as anyone can remember, the rhythms of life here have been intertwined. According to the temple&rsquo;s head priest and elder, Umair Kaka Ram, his family has tended this temple for at least four centuries.&nbsp;&ldquo;My great-great-grandfather, my great-grandfather, my grandfather, my father, and now us,&rdquo; he told Pakistan TV Digital, seated on the temple steps. &ldquo;We have spent so much time here, it&rsquo;s beyond measure.&rdquo;<figure class="fr-media"><img src="https://paktv-assets-7d41fab8.s3.eu-west-2.amazonaws.com/uploads/c99b68ca-4e09-4d7d-94b6-b0644b45c21b-usman 4.jpg" alt="usman 4.jpg" class="fr-fil fr-dib"></figure> He believes the temple&rsquo;s origins stretch back more than 600 years. A lineage preserved through oral history and family record. Even the name Gor Khatri carries that spiritual legacy. &ldquo;It comes from Guru Gorakhnath, a revered healer who once set up his camp here,&rdquo; Umair explains. &ldquo;In Hindko, a shop is called hatti. Over time, Gorakh di Hatti became Gor Khatri.&rdquo; Fragrance of faithInside the temple, the air is thick with the sweet, smoky scent of incense. Sticks burn quietly in corners and along the altar, their ribbons of smoke curling toward the ceiling. The space hums with the gentle rhythm of bells, chants, and footsteps. A soundscape of devotion that has endured through centuries. Across the courtyard, the Abu Hanifa Mosque offers a different kind of serenity. Most of its worshippers have lived in the area for generations, and that sense of belonging fills the air before prayers. Men greet each other with warm handshakes, hugs, and familiar questions about family and health, the small rituals of a community deeply rooted in place.<figure class="fr-media"><img src="https://paktv-assets-7d41fab8.s3.eu-west-2.amazonaws.com/uploads/ccb06a37-a2ae-4c4b-86a1-13894cf648bd-usman 3.jpg" alt="usman 3.jpg" class="fr-fil fr-dib"></figure> &ldquo;We have all grown up together here,&rdquo; says Asad, a local resident who has prayed at the mosque since childhood, while speaking to Pakistan TV Digital. &ldquo;The Hindus worship there in peace, and we worship here in peace. There&rsquo;s no threat, no fear, just respect.&rdquo;&nbsp;Worship in harmonyAt dusk, as the day fades into amber light, Gor Khatri reveals its most poetic scene. The temple&rsquo;s evening puja begins, bells ringing, hymns rising, when suddenly, the Azaan for Maghrib prayers echoes from the mosque.<figure class="fr-media"><img src="https://paktv-assets-7d41fab8.s3.eu-west-2.amazonaws.com/uploads/00fa184b-8a52-47b1-a302-5b0837413c44-usman.jpg" alt="usman.jpg" class="fr-fil fr-dib"></figure> &nbsp;Then, silence. &ldquo;When the Azaan starts, we stop our worship,&rdquo; says Umair softly. &ldquo;We wait until it&rsquo;s finished, out of respect.&rdquo; The music halts mid-note; even the incense smoke seems to pause in the still air. When the last words of the call to prayer fade, the temple&rsquo;s melodies resume. For the people here, this moment of mutual reverence isn&rsquo;t performance. It&rsquo;s tradition.&nbsp;Quiet understandingQari Muhammad Zahir Shah, the Imam of the Abu Hanifa Mosque, smiles when asked about the temple across the courtyard. &ldquo;There has never been even a minor issue between us,&rdquo; he says. &ldquo;We cooperate as neighbors and as fellow citizens. If there&rsquo;s ever a small matter to discuss, we solve it together. Life goes on peacefully.&rdquo;<figure class="fr-media"><img src="https://paktv-assets-7d41fab8.s3.eu-west-2.amazonaws.com/uploads/434ba3e1-b9ae-42ea-be92-fbe73e92a071-usman 2.jpg" alt="usman 2.jpg" class="fr-fil fr-dib"></figure> Both leaders, the Imam and the Matadhish, say their relationship is built on communication and understanding. While their daily routines rarely overlap, they remain in touch regularly. &ldquo;We are on very good terms,&rdquo; Umair says. &ldquo;Whenever we have a festival, the Muslim community helps us in every way they can.&rdquo;&nbsp;The Imam nods in agreement&ldquo;They are part of our community. We all look out for each other.&rdquo; The local government provides security for the temple, a recognition of its historical and cultural importance. The Imam notes it with a wry smile, not as a complaint but as an acknowledgment of the site&rsquo;s shared heritage.&nbsp;Harmony preservedLocals insist that Gor Khatri has never witnessed tension between its communities. Instead, it remains a rare example of interfaith coexistence that feels both ancient and alive. Once a bustling caravanserai, the complex, now dotted with archaeological relics, holds the layered story of Peshawar: a city that has hosted traders, saints, invaders, and believers of every creed. Amid its long and turbulent history, the peace of Gor Khatri endures quietly, tended by those who see faith not as division but as connection. As dusk deepens, the Azaan once again meets the temple bells, two voices rising together from Pakistan&rsquo;s northwest, echoing across stone walls and open hearts. In this small corner of Peshawar, coexistence isn&rsquo;t an ideal. It&rsquo;s simply a way of life.

Symbolizing generations of peaceful coexistence and mutual respect, a centuries-old Hindu temple and a neighboring mosque stand side by side in Peshawar’s historic Gor Khatri complex, in Pakistan’s culturally rich northwest.

Articles tagged with "PESHAWAR"

How two students are putting Pashto AI on the world map

Peshawar’s kahwa tradition endures centuries, blending culture, hospitality and history

In Pakistan’s northwest, mosque and temple share centuries of harmony