Ramadan…er… Mubarak, then? Er…

The doctors have told me I would most probably not be able to fast in the last days due to the antibiotics course I must take. Truthfully, I’ve never really liked fasting in Ramadan… other months suit me so much better: waking up early in the morning for some ‘me’ time, eat something simple, enjoy the silence and the solitude, go through your days just like normal and break the fast with a cup of tea with some biscuits. THAT is what a fast should be. Versus Ramadan when its: get up two hours early in the morning to cook elaborate dishes, people shouting at each other trying to wake the lazier ones for sehri, bickering all day long because everyone is ‘Fasting but also Furious’, running around trying to get iftar cooked, run to the mosque for a panicky taraweeh and be planning all the time on ‘what to eat tomorrow morning’… frankly, fasting in Ramadan is a REAL chore for me because our family which never gets together (for good reason) has to eat together two times a day which is VERY stressful. I couldn’t ever understand when people used to say ‘Happy Ramadan’ or ‘Ramadan Mubarak’ and inside, I’d be going, yeah yeah, very happy… and you too have a good time *insert mental blah blah’s here*

But now, that I’ve been told not to fast, all of a sudden, I’m really conscious of what good aspects I’m missing out on: the fact that you read the Quran every day in taraweeh, the fact that you finish a Quran in a month which I know would be hard for me to do all by myself…It really makes me hope everyone who IS getting a chance to fast this year does. Whether with a happy heart or not; its fard, do it. Its not worth the regret when you think of ‘I could’ve’ and ‘I should’ve’ when you’re not able to fast anymore due to old age or any illness. Already, I’m thinking I should have fasted all those previous years with a happier heart, with more dedication… but I guess regrets are something one cannot convey in words; you have to be standing on this side of the fence to realize the magnitude of it. So, for the first time in my life, I mean this from the bottom of my heart when I say it: Have a Happy and Blessed Ramadan.

Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust, Symbols, part IV: The flower

The flower

The children gathered around the object in the garden.

‘What is this?’ the little one rubbed his eyes, ‘Colorful!’

The rising sun bought out the highlights in his sun bleached hair as he bent over the rose in the garden. He stretched out a hand towards it wanting to break it into little pieces… it wasn’t as good as the one he had at home. So why should he let this, of his playmates’ garden bloom?

********************

The girl stood at the door of the class room.

‘Which one of you came from X school?’

‘Er,’ I stood up, ‘I did.’

The class looked around in surprise and started muttering. The teacher stared a bit… then let it go.

‘You’re wanted in the English Department, right now,’ the girl handed a note to my teacher as she told me.

‘Me?’

‘Yes …’ she raised her eyebrows.

I shrugged and came along. In the staff room, there were two teachers waiting for me. One very slim and old… the other one very very fat and awfully strict looking.

‘You got any debating experience?’ she asked.

Her voice doesn’t match her, I thought and felt hysterically giggly and freaked out at the same time

‘No Ma’am’

‘Well then, you’re going to have to get some.’

Er, okay, how does one reply to that??

‘Yes, Ma’am,’ I shifted my weight from one foot to the other.

‘Here, read this,’ she thrust a Shakespeare into my hand.

‘Er…’

‘You can read, can’t you?’ her eyes sparkled with good humored laughter, ‘I would hate to think this college has lost even what little standard they have by letting in children who can’t even read’

and she winked. Oh my God! A teacher winked at me!!

I looked down at my shoes and tried to think of something serious to stop myself from bursting out laughing. This was something so new! I had a very low estimation of teachers after the way I’d been targeted at the old school; and suddenly, what was wrong with the world! : )

Feeling giggly, I started out with interruptions of ‘louder, child’ and ‘repeat that stanza again.’ When I finished, there was silence.

I looked at Mrs. R first. No expression. Then I looked at the emaciated Mrs. S.

Nothing.

I looked down and then up again.

‘What do you think?’ Mrs. R asked Mrs. S.

‘Definitely.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Uh huh.’

I wondered what was going on, until Mrs.R thrust a debate into my hand. Written down and all.

‘This is day after tomorrow. Call home and ask your parents about coming home late today. We have to practice.’

I called my dad and told him.

‘What?’ he asked, ‘You? Debate? Do they know you’ve never done any before?’

‘Yes daddy, they know!’ I was feeling a tad angry at this.

‘Haha,’ he suddenly laughed, startling me, ‘so, someone in the family has my genes too!’

‘Er.’

‘Yeah, I was a top debater,’ he boasted.

‘I am on a school phone,’ I reminded him, ‘and just so that you know, yeah RIGHT you were.’

‘Wait till you get home,’ he spouted off some mock-anger, ‘Just wait, puttar*’

*******************

He reached a chubby hand towards it when it was arrested by a large firm hand with a touch so gentle that he was surprised. He looked up to see himself staring into the kindest eyes he had ever seen.

‘No,’ she whispered as she took his hand away from the flower, ‘this is a rare breed. It’s not to be put in the vase with the others.’

‘Who are you?’ the child was baffled.

‘Me?’ her eyes twinkled as the air around her filled with her laughter, enveloping everything and making the other flowers dance for joy, ‘I, my child, am a harvester of these roses. Some take a long time to grow… and this is my special one. It’s not the best, but it will be… a little bit of fertilizer, a little bit of water. All given in a timely manner.’

‘Where’d you get the seed?’ the child asked.

The woman laughed her warm laughter that seemed to patter down around him like the first drops of a warm monsoon rain, ‘I recognized this when it was just a seed amongst others,’ she smiled, ‘That takes a practiced eye… and the skill of a surgeon.’

The first sound of approaching rain rumbled around them as the sky was streaked with a flash of light.

‘Lets get you inside,’ she said to the child.

The child put his hand into hers, and they walked off the lawn into the safety of the house… The rain was now coming as monsoon rains do; warm and soft with big drops noisily pattering as they hit the earth and lifted some mud of in clouds scented with freshly mown grass.

*****************

I climbed up to the podium with knees literally knocking together. My face was pale; that much i knew. My nails were blue because i was feeling ready to faint. God, what had come over me! Why did i agree to Ms.R’s stupid stupid idea of letting me take this on. The whole bloody hall was FULL of people. A public humiliation was in the offing; no doubt about that. As i prepared to launch into my prepared and learnt debate, the comfort of something known amidst all these lights in my eyes and 3000 faces of spectators of the regional intercollegiate debates looking up at me, the judge asked me to stop. I stopped. And went red.

‘Name, please?’ he looked over the tops of his bifocals. ‘I didn’t catch your name.’

Whew, i let out a very audible sigh INTO the microphone and people actually laughed. With me. Not at me.I felt a smile resting on my face too. God, i must look totally confident here. La, what a joke!

Repeating my name and school again I put on a brave smile and started again. I’d already been in the lights for 3 minutes; could i get on with the debate? My legs were about to give away any time now.

And then i opened my mouth…

and was transported.

I was someone watching myself with on open mouth from the sidelines thinking, Oh my God! Who is this girl! She’s good!!

I wasn’t the only one entranced; the audience were too!

Then, i made a little mistake; stumbled. No problem. Getting on, i finished with aplomb and a confidence i didn’t really feel. I waited for a while tears threateningly near the surface. God, every one had so hated me. And then, someone started to clap. And it built up till the applause was ear shattering.

After listening to boring debates for three hours, the audience was alive and kicking and so in-the-flow with me. ‘Oh my Goooood! You were awesome!’ shrieked my debating partner. She was a veteran debator who’d been debating since she was six years old… and coming from her, this was high praise. Much as I’d love to imagine I’d won the first prize, I hadn’t. Of that much I was sure.

I had stumbled; when you’re up against the best of the best, there is no room for mistake. They announced the consolation prizes. Nope, my name wasn’t in there. Then they announced the third one. Still, no me. Second one, oh my god!! That’s me. I was shocked…but pleased. The first one went to my partner and surprisingly, the ‘children’ of our college’s debating society had lifted the regional trophy! For a first time debater like me, this was something unheard of. Not only did i get pats on the back from every teacher, suddenly i was the ‘cool’ kid in the institution because I was going around winning prizes for them.

The best part was: Ms.R had restored my confidence in myself.

Given me the tools to shape the best out of a talent I never knew I had.

Given me my self esteem back

Given me the confidence to say ‘I could’ve won first but I stumbled. Gah, how could I have been such an idiot! When’s the next debate? I’m gonna bring you the first prize for sure!’.

*****************

The rose swayed and danced in the rain. It was rejoicing

to be continued…

*puttar= Punjabi for ‘son’ or ‘child’

P.S. Like all my teacher-oriented posts, this one is dedicated to the best among the best of them, ‘Liya.

P.P.S. The next part of this series will be password protected. And I will also be protecting the previous ones. Please write to me within the week at schauspiel.vista [at] gmail [dot] com with a valid blog address of your own. Alternatively, leave a comment on the page ‘password protected posts’ when logged in from your blog and I will send you an e-mail with the password

Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust; Symbols: Part I

Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust; Symbols: Part II

Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust; Symbols: Part III

A Letter to my Teacher

A Subversive Anarchistic Element

I went back to Aafke’s blog and saw this which I had somehow missed the last time. Her post has been updated in my honor dishonor. Apparently i’m the only ’subversive anarchistic element’ who knows how to ‘counteract the pious efforts of the black hand’!

Had me laughing all over again. So, seriously, which one of you already knew we could spray a little bit of perfume or deodorant on a magazine and simply wipe the black marker away?

Seven (times ten) Wierd Things about me!

Have been tagged by Meow. Thanks for the tag! Here goes: (Sorry dear, i got carried away… i can’t figure out how Boba found it so hard to do… then again, I’m weirder than most people so what do i know? :p)

7 weird things about me (those are the ones in bold):

1. Sleeping habits

2. I have a thing for white bed sheets… with blue flowers on them
3. I spray my sheets with perfume (only flower scents)

4. I was one week away from my black belt test in Karate when my mum told me ‘Mundian nal nahin khailna’ no playing with boys and stopped me from going to the test. I’ll never forgive her for this!

5. I LOVE calligraphy and I’ve won prizes in calligraphy competitions. English calligraphy is easy to conquer; I’ve failed at being anything but okay-ish in Arabic and I’m AWFUL in Urdu. Someday, I’m going to conquer them too!

6. My worst fear is water. I never admitted it but it makes me nauseous to look at the sea.

7. I love cars and I used to be obsessed with engines and all these things till my dad decided this was a not-very-girly hobby and forbid me from buying car magazines.

8. I’ve never had a computer or an e-mail address till two years ago.

9. I can sit on the computer for 36 hours non-stop.

10. I wasn’t allowed to keep a mobile phone when I was at University because my mum reckoned the process goes: cell phone-> boy->elopement. When I finished University, I refused to buy one ‘just because’ and if I ever get one, no one from my family is getting the number; rest assured on that count O Family Members.

11. Good food, nicely presented can cure me of anything.

12. I hate roses.

13. I’m allergic to gold (this is something even the jeweler hadn’t heard of, haha)

14. I’m always extremely embarrassed (read blushing hard and wanting to disappear in the ground kind of embarrassed) to receive a present; don’t ask why!

15. I buy birthday presents at least six months before hand.

16. I don’t wear socks any color but white

17. I want to learn 8 languages before I’m 26. Four down, three acquainted with, one unfamiliar left!

18. I hate most desi food

19. I get ticked when people touch my cheek. Like REALLY irritated.

20. I don’t shape my eyebrows

21. While we’re at it, I don’t do my upper lip either because I’m one of those who never need to. Its a trait that comes from my mum’s side of the family. People still go ‘No f-ing way!’ when I tell them and have to lean close to have a good look (that’s pretty offensive).

22. I can reverse a car excellently but I’m AWFUL at driving it straight especially at roundabouts.

23. I look exactly like my mum. So much so that people have stopped me in the market at times to ask me if I was her daughter. Usually, I said no because then the aunty would ask ‘baita mujhay paichana?’ (like yeah, I was ONE year old when I saw you last, how can I ‘pehchan’ you!)

24. No one and I mean NO ONE touches my scarves. And they have to be washed every time I wear them.

25. I’m obsessed with stationery. Like, I HAVE to have good stationery. And a 0.8 pencil? I’ve used the same one for 7 yrs. You don’t even wanna touch it because if you damage it… well…

26. I hate ink/ fountain pens. I can’t ever write with one.

27. I don’t like babies. (sorry!) I practically bought up my two youngest siblings and that made me pretty OCD’d about babies. While you’d be looking at that baby in the market saying ‘Ohh, how cute!’ I’d be thinking, ‘Oh someone needs to cover the baby’s head with a cloth cap because its gonna get cold outside in an hour.’ Hence, the ‘cuteness factor’ usually escapes me.

28. I love to hold little babies who have been, as they say, ‘fed and watered’ and are happy in a dry diaper and have been powdered with Johnson’s Baby Powder. Yep, that is the kinda baby I can love, haha.

29. I’ve been told in ‘real life’ that people are scared of me. This is more common that I would like to believe :(  (Even my best friend admitted to this!)

30. Fifteen people have asked me for my autograph in University.

31. I hate clutter… messes are okay but ‘clutter’ is something awful. Sometimes, sitting in someone’s drawing room, I think my brain’s going to melt; it needs to work so fast to absorb all the ‘clutter’!

32. I make ‘things to do’ lists all the time.

33. I can learn anything new the fastest you have ever seen anyone go, but maths shuts me down. Like TOTALLY.

34. I love all kind of sports and I regret not having participated in any at a decent level. Despite that, I cannot play table tennis. AT ALL. I end up hitting the ball WAY into the air. Serves are all I can manage.

35. I have the fastest reaction times ever. If a glass starts to fall off a table, I’ll be across the room and catch it before it hits the floor. It’s very weird and has caused people to go, ‘How the hell did you do that!’ many times. I dunno how I do that either!

36. I’m known as the person with a very ‘elegant’ and ‘sober’ style but I have, on one occasion, run through a fountain (yes, in Pakistan!) and also walked barefoot in the mud in a public park. (I’ll do anything on a dare b/c I think its fun.)

37. My favorite activity is to watch people. In fact, I can do it all day.

38. I’ve gone 9 days without speaking a word and no one realized anything was out of place. (I’m talking home)

39. I’ve once not seen any of my family for three whole days… and I realized, I could’ve eloped and they wouldn’t have realized it. Oh why didn’t i!

40. I have only one bottle of nail polish (beat that for weirdness!)

41. I’m not scared of any animal except those real stuffed natural history museum ones.

42. I don’t have a purse/handbag. Not even one! My sisters think its some kind of 22 yr old Guinness Record.

43. I can study finance all day and not get tired

44. I hate listening to music. It keeps on going round and round in my head and I can’t think. So, I try not to let it near me!

45. I still wish F.R.I.E.N.D.S would start again.

46. When I’m reading a book, I can go without food for three days.

47. I cannot watch TV for more than 2 hours.

48. I can type almost 100 wpm on my laptop (deceased) without looking at the keyboard… but normal key boards reduce me to 70 wpm and that’s when I’m looking down and CONCENTRATING.

49. I wear only high heels or moccasins. Nothing in between.

50. I chose my alias as ‘Miss Specs’ whereas most people in real life don’t know I wear them. I use clear contacts instead.

51. The only brand of spectacles I wear is D&G. I have problem seeing through others. Its a mental thing, i know; but D&G it is.

52. My room is messy but my cupboards are super clean. So much so that I can find things in the dark.

53. I can keep the same room settings for twenty years or more. I hate it when we move around furniture for a ‘new’ look.

54. I love big gatherings where we’re hosting. Like, totally DIG them!

55. I hate going to weddings. After the one I attended this year, the last one was 8 yrs ago.

56. As those who’ve ever chatted with me know very well, I ALWAYS spell ‘weird’ as ‘wIErd’ because it seems to make more sense to me that way!

57. I think spiders are really unappreciated. I think they’re nice and really fascinating (in spite of being bitten twice) and they deserve more than a cameo appearance in ‘Little Miss Muffet’

58. I’m an excellent shooter. The few times I’ve been let near a gun, every person has said I’m a natural talent. Because it’s not a girly thing to do, I wasn’t allowed to take that any further. But, the first moment of independence, financial or otherwise and off I go to join a club AND get a licensed firearm.

59. I’m a ‘super taster’. Your doctor can check that for you with an iodine (I think) smear on your tongue. That means I have more taste buds than normal people. That may also be the reason I dislike sharp flavors; hence most desi food.

60. I hate plants. Like totally. Freshly mown grass? Can’t think of anything more nauseating.

61. I can live off sweet stuff/ desserts all my life.

62. I’m known as a super confident person but I never make eye contact with people because that makes me feel they’re looking deeper than they should. Someone once told me that makes one look sneaky, so when I try to hold it, I come across as over aggressive or really dominating. So, I just stay ten feet away from people when I talk to them.

63. I’ve been lost in the Margallah mountains for 14 hours sparking a massive man hunt by Islamabad Police and the local hiking club. The police man even asked ME if I’d seen any lost kid and I told him no. (Hello, I didn’t know 14 hours had already gone by… I thought it was like 2 or 3… and i didn’t know being 12 qualified me as a ‘kid’) Here is the place that’s about 1/3rd of the way UP from Islamabad till the place where i was lost (’twas pretty high, see?) and this is about 2/3rds way up. Both pictures are random ones off the internet…i couldn’t find one with no people in them, sorry!

64. I wouldn’t shake hands with you if you were the prime minister of Pakistan. I don’t shake hands, like EVER. No girls, no guys.

65. I don’t share my stuff. I can give it to you if you want, and with a very happy heart at that; but share it, never.

66. I can find something funny in every single little thing; mostly where no one would think of finding anything. For example, I think of computers as gender specific. HP is female, Dell is a guy, for sure. Acer… is also a girl. (Think about it)

67. I can start laughing at the most odd times. Especially when it’s not needed.

68. I am an expert knitter and I taught myself via a book. The reason being my mum’s refusal to teach me, so I did it just to see if I can. I’ve even got a prize in it once!

69. Most people, seeing my studious nature hope/ are of the firm conviction that I am zero at householdy stuff, (I mean, who can be all THAT hateful) but I’m excellent at it, hahaha

70. I was asked to write 7 things and I wrote 70… can you beat that for sheer weirdness?!?

I tag: ‘Liya, Toseef (Don’t use your old one, make a new one!), Marigold, Studentin , Ordinary Girl and Haleem. Not tagging the rest of you because I want to leave someone for the next person to tag!

**updated**

Haleem’s been tagged twice (this is why you should not write posts at 2am in the morning like me:( ) so, I tag Shazia.

Signs

Now that I see what I fired off in a moment of depression, I am ashamed of myself.

AlHamduLillah, Allah is so kind to me. Every time I start to veer off course, there are the subtle hints; the warnings, the messages of peace; the re-assurances.

I’ve been in intense pain for the past month. I haven’t shared this information with anyone because, frankly, when you’re down and depressed, the last thing you want to be reminded of in every conversation is your physical health ‘how are you today? No pain I hope?’ is something that can really tick you off… even though it comes with the best of intentions from friends.

A month ago, I started to have some pain in my lower back coupled with a persistent fever. Although the fever would never cross a 100, it wouldn’t go away either. After ten fifteen days of this; I was thoroughly exhausted. There’s so much going around the house right now; schools re-opening, my sister’s marriage date being fixed prompting frequent visits to and by her in laws, and finally, my father getting a promotion to the highest grade government service offers him, AlhamduLillah, and the house being full of well-wishers and family.

Before I knew it, my ‘days’ were back just after 7 days which is something that has not happened in 8 yrs. This startled me into thinking, this pain in my lower back has been going on for almost three weeks… how come I never noticed? Time had flown so quickly measured in ‘dinner with Mr and Mrs. A tomorrow night’ to ‘invited to Mrs. X for lunch tomorrow’

Most of my cousins are doctors so it’s easy to get some impromptu advice. We were sitting over morning cups of tea when my cousin mentioned I looked very pale.

‘Are you okay?’

‘Yeah, why?’

She touched my forehead with a hand that felt impossibly cool to me.

‘Feverish’

‘Its nothing. I’ve been feeling a little ‘off’ for a few days now.’

‘How many days is ‘few’?’ kicked in the other doctor, a gynecologist. ‘Erm, I dunno, from the 10^th I guess. What date is it today?’

They both stared at me. ‘28^th’

‘Oh,’ was all I could say.

‘Any thing else?’

‘Yeah, I just got my days early, but that can happen, right?’

‘Nausea?’

‘Erm, yes, actually, and pretty intense.’

‘Fever?’

‘Yeah, almost non-stop.’

‘Does it hurt anywhere?’

‘Yeah,’ I say, ‘there’s been a throbbing pain in my lower back.. and its not related to anything else because its in a pretty unfamiliar area.’

‘Where?’

‘Here,’ I point out the area and turn back just in time to catch a startled exchange of glances.

‘What?’

‘Nothing. Just get a Blood CP tomorrow, okay? I wanna see it before I leave.’

‘Okay…’

So, the white blood cells and something something returns high counts. ‘Kidney infection… or somewhere around’ my cousin says, ‘But you need to get a u test to confirm… and seeing the way you are, you have to wait at least two weeks more.’

‘Is it something awful?’

‘Not necessarily.’

‘What does that mean?’ I ask her, ‘Come on, be clear with me. My asthma’s pretty inflamed because of the weather and I don’t need to feel upset wondering what’s wrong with me too.’

‘Are you getting headaches?’

‘Intense ones.’

‘One sided?’

‘No… can I please know what’s wrong?’

‘Listen hon, I can’t say for sure… most probably it’s easily corrected by some antibiotics, no need to worry.’

‘But the infection could be anywhere… like, anywhere.’

‘Look, Specs, It COULD but…’

‘It could?’ I actually felt the world tilting.

‘Look, stop coulding and shoulding, I want you to admit yourself to the hospital for at least one night so we can track this pain/fever/headache and all.’

‘Just because I can’t understand what the report says, that doesn’t mean you can hide stuff about me, from me,’ I hissed at her.

‘I’m hiding nothing. There’s no use speculating, okay? Now shut up before I kick your mouth close.’ And she hugs me.

Later, I see her talking to my dad and I hear my dad say something he’s never said aloud before, ever. ‘Allah Khair’ he mutters while listening to her. And strangely, she’s talking about something ELSE in the tests to my dad, not the tests she interpreted to me. My dad casts a worried glance my way. Then comes and pats my head… and that out of place and unfamiliar gesture upsets me so much, I can’t put it in words.

Late that night, I couldn’t sleep for the pain in my back… and I catch my dad getting up twice during the night using his cell phone alarm just to check on me. I act sleeping when he’s there, but I’m wondering what the hell is going on.

That night, the doctor calls and tells my father that they need a u sample to confirm, but most probably its nothing but a false alarm. The persistent fever points to an infection… but most probably there’s none. They’re 80% sure. Just need the other tests to know for sure.

Frankly, at that point I was so distressed, I was already starting to believe the worst and the fact that everyone was lying to me (they weren’t), when I came across this verse on Shahrzaad’s blog

‘And verily after every hardship is ease; and verily after every hardship is ease.’ And I’m a bit stunned at the timing.. but I shrug it off.

Then, I come across another ayah that is randomly displayed over some website: ‘And We do not burden any soul greater than its capacity.’

This is my favorite ayah from the Quran… I find it intensely comforting, but that day, it seemed to be the forbearer of some bad news.

I sat around moping and complained to Allah over how unfair He was to me… and how this illness was an additional burden added to the intense emotional stress I was under (that is the subject of another blog post, another day) and generally… life was so unfair.

While I was thinking of this, I ventured over to the lounge to see if the computer was free. Since it wasn’t, I decided to sit and listen to my cousin’s gossip. That’s when one of them started to tell about a lady who is a distant relative.

The story turns out to be this: her kids were fighting and one of them threw a knife at other one. The woman was making roti (that’s the Pakistani bread) and it’s made it a sort of a clapping motion where the roti is shifted from one hand to the other quickly to make it thinner and rounder. The knife’s handle hit the woman’s hand and because she was moving her hands, the knife jerked straight, blade first, into her EYE.

The wound refused to heal so the doctors started to concentrate on preventing any infections because it was clear they couldn’t save the eye now. After some days, the area behind the eye started getting infected and her eye started to bleed. The doctors, to control infection from spreading any further used a drug (I caught the name as something like cortisol but I’m not sure what my cousin said) and this, in turn, landed her with severe diabetes. While they were giving her drugs for the eye AND her diabetes, she started to lose vision in her second eye also… and for some reason, she started to have bleeding from her uterus and it was so bad that they had to schedule an emergency hysterectomy.

Now, within a year, this woman, who is only 46 years of age, has gone from a lively human being to a semi blind diabetic and her whole body is a mass of pain. SubhanAllah, may Allah grant her courage and wash away her sins for it.

As I heard my cousin tell this story, I was ashamed of myself. I’ve been put through but a little test and see how I reacted… and she… I cannot imagine a bearing with even a single portion of what she’s going through. Eye pain? For those of us who use contact lenses, we know how it feels to get a hair under your contact… compared to something piercing it and then having that infection? Not being able to see? Ya Allah!

Indeed, I am ashamed to admit I have proved I do not have a great ‘capacity’ because I have borne with ill will the burden and sickness that was placed on me.

Its episodes like these that make my bond with Allah stronger… stronger than it was, I mean, because I cannot vouch for its strength. I am weak like that… I have to admit. I’m seeing what a difference a change of the point of view can make; from someone thinking ‘why me? This is so unfair’ you go on to think ‘Oh, what happened to her could be happening to you… or to me. Oh, I hope no one else has to go through such suffering.’

And it makes you wonder… I have been thinking about her husband. He married a woman that was beautiful and accomplished. But now? He’s going to have to take care of her… she who cannot be his partner physically anymore because her diabetes makes her wounds from the hysterectomy hard to heal; she who cannot offer him emotional support anymore because every part of her body is in pain… she who cannot look after his house, be the gracious hostess or take care of his things for him anymore, because she does not have the gift of sight anymore… she who cannot impart tarbiyah to his children… or train them, or love them or support them, share their joys and nurse their knee scrapes anymore because she’s in so much pain she cannot be without painkillers even for a moment.

And then, my thoughts wander over to the people I hear complaining about their spouses, ‘She doesn’t take care of my clothes,’ ‘she doesn’t act very gracious as a hostess’ ‘She doesn’t do this’ ‘She doesn’t do that’… what if one day Allah takes it all away and she is INCAPABLE of doing this for you anymore? Will you discard her as a wife? Be grateful to Allah everyday for the things that she IS doing for you.

And the same for the wives… more so for the wives because I hear my friends complaining all the time. If, God forbid, such a situation befalls one of us… what if tomorrow you aren’t CAPABLE of hosting his relatives anymore? What if you’re incapable of training your children in the best way possible? Is it worth all the regret of ‘I should’ve done more’?

ALHamdulillah a thousand times over; every time I start to be ungrateful for what I call ‘my lot’; I am given a wake-up call without fail, EVERY TIME. Sometimes, I am scared of myself… and how out of perspective I sometimes get things. It scares me a bit to think, what if the warnings stop coming… I won’t be able to stop being ungrateful. But then again, He is The Raheem. There’s little reason to lose hope, really.

Life, as i see it…

Okay, I’ve got to face it someday.. so might as well now. I am depressed.

Chronically depressed. I thought about not putting all this on my blog; don’t want to scare you guys away… but for the past weeks, I’ve been avoiding commenting on anyone’s blogs, typed out curt two line answers to long e-mails, or not replied at all. For anyone who I hurt, I beg your pardon.

In the past 22 years of my life, I’ve been putting up a lot of layers over some things I did not want to face. I’m strictly rooted in reality and I know, I had to face them sooner or later. But this soon? I’m ashamed to admit… I did not foresee this. And, in a way, I expected I could cover this up… forever.

Sometimes, it takes the smallest thing to spark off a chain of events. It was a comment made in innocence that started the dominoes off… and as they fell, new shapes resolved out of old ones; new pictures formed where I thought none were left… many memories re-surfaced; things I thought I had purged myself of forever.

The world has begin to tire me now. I, the person ever ready to lend a willing ear; to make someone feel better, to lend a shoulder for someone to lean on… I of all these great deeds; I’m sorry but suddenly, I feel myself the seeker, not the giver… and frankly, I feel like a beggar asking for alms, so I can’t do it. I know I need support, I know I need to talk it out of my system; I know I have to have that one good cry because I have started to collapse inside. But the tears are obstinate; they will not come. I’ve sunk as low as to think of ending this life… my mind tells me its wrong; I KNOW its wrong…but the monsters surfacing inside won’t let me go.

Some part of me knows I can fight my way out of this. Frankly, I hate not being in control… and my unbiased-ness has always been a source of pride to me. The only thing that I thought differentiated me from others around me: the ability to impartially analyze and reason and find a way out.

But, all of a sudden, I find myself too exhausted to fight. WHY should I fight them any longer, I ask myself… who cares? Is there one person here who would miss me if I’m gone? Everyone would shrug and go on after a day. Then, my mind kicks in and reminds me, no one is indispensable. No one. Not even the greatest of the great were… and no one can go on missing you forever. I love my friends too… but would I miss them forever? Does that mean they’re disposable and something not important to me? No. They are very important.

Right now, all i wanna do is hit the shower, get into some nice clean clothes, get into bed with two white pillows behind my back, pull my knees up to my chin, turn the AC on full, and just let my mind wander where it wants to go. I need to nurse my hurts out. I refuse to feel down.

Spare me my weirdness, will ya?

My dear dear sister,

Everyone and i mean EVERYONE who could possible be linked to my sleep timings knows my excessively odd sleeping, or shall i say not-sleeping habits. Yes, while i realize that i explain to everyone that i need only four hours of sleep a day, sometimes less because its a genetic trait i share with two other people in my family, can i please request you to have a care when i am in that four hour phase? Please?

*deep breath*

Okay. I feel calm now. A bit, i mean.

You know I am one of those people who go from 0-100 mph in 1 second; meaning, i don’t gently come awake with the light teasing at the corners of my eyes and my mind feeling blank or any such feelings that i can just fantasize about because ever since i was a kid, i jolt awake. And in the millisecond that it takes for my eyes to start absorbing data, in other words, open, i am already out of bed. In fact, i cannot remembered the last time i opened my eyes and saw the ceiling. Nope, i am out of bed the moment i wake up.

*another deep calming breath*

Now, can you realize how hard that is on a person’s system? To take a car that hasn’t even been warmed up properly from 0-100 in a second… is that good for the engine? And seven times in an hour? No.

*another deeper breath because they’re obviously not working*

Now, you also know that I’m a light sleeper, right? That even someone’s pants swishing in the darkness wake me up? You do? Right.

Now, can i please request you NOT to stand by my head and inhale loudly as you start to sigh… and then exhale unheard while my mind is already awake waiting for the exhale that never came? If i open my eyes and shout at you for ‘breathing too loudly’, i MEAN it. Please stop calling me a ‘dragon’ and try to understand. Yes, i am weird but i need my four hours of sleep, which, as you well know i can’t sleep during the day, now have to be postponed till tomorrow night.

*deep breath*

I’m unhappy and very very exhausted. Please. Try to understand and spare me my weirdness, will ya?

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A Matter of Pride

I sat at my grandfather’s knee, lost in wonder, ‘Really, Abba Jan?’

‘Yes, my daughter,’ he said, ‘we did not have it as easy as you.’

‘So, you mean to say you worked on the train station all night and studied till dawn?’

He nodded.

‘When did you sleep?’

A gentle laugh full of remonstrance.

‘Child, when the only way out of poverty is a decent education… and when the burden of your people’s progress rides heavy on your shoulders, sleep doesn’t come near you.

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