The Orange Tree

Dispatches - Children of Gaza

2010-03-15T15:07:00.000-07:00

Catch it on 4OD if you missed it. Innocent souls whose eyes speak throught the lens of the camera, volumes more than we could ever articulate. I feel like there’s no point writing a narrative or review of the programme, I don’t feel I could ever justify it. The relentless cycle of violence, and what these children have seen and suffered. Fathers shot at the their doorstep, a nine year old boy bombed in his own home, a girl living iwht pieces of shrapnel in her brain…children living and leanring about life and the world in what could be the hrashest, cruellest way. What could hurt more, what could be worse. The anguish and fear we could only imagine, what our tv screens decide to tell us.

Beauty and survival. Pain and torture. Hope and fear. Makes me feel small and insignificant, my problems aren’t problems. And I can change the channel and watch Glee or Friends and forget, but that is their reality. That revenge they want to take, that eace they want to make, its justified and its real and its true.

And us? We are still sleeping and Gaza still burns.

http://www.channel4.com/programmes/dispatches/pictures/children-of-gaza/f4d1b070-a1cc-4eb8-8fd2-0c99815f47e6

On no soul doth Allah Place a burden greater than it can bear – [Quran 2:286]

Part 7

2010-03-15T13:15:00.000-07:00

I just spoke for the longest time today. Apart from when I was teaching, and I had to force myself and put on a bit of an act. although it was nice to tell someone about yesterday, and they had genuine concern and hoped it went well. I feel quite glad and I’m happy I spoke to her, a nice friend, and now I feel like I can write this.

Got back late last night and felt…overwhelmed and numb. If that’s possible. The conversations, deep and meaningful and analytical, the questions and the answers in the car of course added to this, but they needed to be had, and I’m really glad for it. When we got home, I felt so tired, and emotionally drained. Every bit of me ached, and I couldn’t wait to sleep. Sleeping was good.

Ok so now my line manager came in to my room and asked how it all went. Weird. Apparently everyone’s been asking how I am, if I’m ok. That’s really sweet. Again, had to force myself to speak to tell her about yesterday, but again its making me write so that’s a good thing. I feel quite humbled. Feeling a bit strange and overwhelmed…I do have some breathing space now though which is good. And shell shocked. She nailed it.

People have been asking me how it went, and honestly, I don’t know. As in, we went, it was nice, everyone chatted and got on, and chilled and ate and had dessert and tea and made jokes, but I don’t know how I actually feel about it. Which is quite worrying. I should be relieved, or happy or something. Maybe it was the dreams I had last night.

And now I’m really regretting not going to the airport to drop my parents off.

Foreboding, apprehension, unease, anxiety, discomfort…I can’t think of the right word to describe the feeling lodged in my gut, right by my diaphragm, and deep in my chest too.

So we got there, me cradling the orchids like a baby, and went in, said our salaams, and sat down. Felt so strange being there, a few awkward silences, and then people coming in and being introduced. The kids came in, or were sent in, one by one, and did their rounds of shaking hands and saying salaam, which is always a cute ice breaker. I was feeling so hot with my coat and big woolly scarf on so took them off awkwardly and tried to fold them in a ladylike way across my lap. He kept looking at me, and I tried to ignore him, averting my gaze. Stop looking at me! Could feel his eyes on me. Why is he wearing that shirt? You should dressjust a little bit more like your brother, haha.

Mum and I went into the next room as we needed to pray. As we finished, his little sister, the youngest and favourite, came in, so we said salaam and introduced ourselves. And sat and chatted for a while. Very nice and friendly. Actually, really nice, warm and welcoming. Couldn’t fault a thing. Or ask for more. So why do I feel like this. Have things concluded one way subconsciously in my own mind?

So anyway, chit chat, chit, chat, and it was food time. I thought we would all eat together, but it was meant to be us, and some of them. When I said, lets eat together, it was misunderstood as lets us girls eat together. That’s not what I meant. I meant everyone. So it ended up the men eating first and then the women. Which is annoying but anyways.

His brother was cool, making jokes and taking the mick. Made things more relaxed and chilled and I prefer it that way then all quiet and formal.

This is still so strange. And I missed asr today, not good :-( Writing this in bits, it feels like last night’s dreams are haunting me, and determining my percpetions and judgements and emotions. The one where I was with a friend of a cousin or something. And the one where we were both in the same place, at the same time, but not together. And there is an empty set next to me, only I have to text him to tell him this. And then it ended. I don’t know.

Eating together, dessert together, the men went off somewhere for a walk, so we had tea and chilled, watched the kids. Then the boys came back, and we sat together and chatted. It was nice. But it was the first full meeting so of course everyone was on their best behaviour. Including myself. And he would talk to me, and I would side step, and again, avert. You look yummy when noone is looking, and me trying to ignore and send evils at the same time. A short question, don’t talk to me. A poke when nobody was looking.

Uuurrrgghhhh why am I feeling these reservations? Is it because I know that I wont fit in? That I won’t blend and bend to be what may be expected of me? That I cant do it? That if I change myself, for that purpose, then I won’t be me anymore. Then you may as well order something and have it sent over on PIA, or go and pick it up yourself. Why me? What is it about me that you want, or like, or more importantly, expect? And what if I cant fulfill those expectations? What if you cant fulfill mine? And then what? Emotional attachment and physical attraction and all the swooning? Where do we put that and what do we do with it. I want to be with you becuase i want to be with you. Not becuause I dont want to be alone.

I need to sleep on this. I need to pray some more. Life was easier when it was all about the swooning.

“… Only in the remembrance of Allah can the heart find peace.” (Qur’an, 13:28)

2010-03-15T08:49:00.000-07:00

I feel really, really weird. I’m not sure how to explain it. Kind of like a bad mood, but more out of sorts. Nothing is satisfying me and I have a lot of questions in my mind, all unanswered. I don’t know if I’m angry, or upset, or annoyed. Perhaps subdued, pensive. One person said to me I seem very reflective. I think perhaps today should be spent with me. I’ve already inflicted this upon the kids today, negatively, and it wasn’t even their fault. As a consequence, my lessons didn’t go as well as they could have. My year 11s took the mick, miss you’re on form today, but that’s ok I don’t mind that. We have that sort of relationship where we can make fun of each other.

Another thing, my prayer mat has gone missing from my room when I was off sick – what is that all about?! It was in a cupboard as well.

Anyway, I think I may be overwhelmed. Or a bit numb from yesterday. And then with the parental unit leaving today and leaving me and my brother to it for two weeks; it does give a lot of supposed time to think and question and look for answers and the sort, but I know it’ll fly by and culminate in me being none the wiser. I also have to take care of everything, as well as stress at work, which is a bit daunting. Domestic goddess I am not.

Daunting. That’s how I’m finding this all. The conversations that are to be had and the questions to be asked and answered and considered, and the views and opinions and feeling and anxieties and doubts to be aired and vocalised. Honesty and tact. Much required, also time. And the future and the decisions, and all that depends on it and vice versa.

Am I the right person?
Are you?
Does it make sense?

I Love My Mum

2010-03-10T12:39:00.001-08:00

Being ill is weird. I’m the sort of person who needs loads of sympathy and TLC; anything less gets me annoyed and angry. However, when others are ill, and yes depending on who they are, I try to keep away from them and ask them not to breathe on me. Yes, mean I know.
I’m currently undergoing a serious case of flu and in need of cheering up. My mum just did an amazing job. Two days off work and I don’t know if I’ll be able to go in tomorrow. I want to, even though it’s a really busy five period day. I’ve even missed Wednesday night, and I love, live for, Wednesday nights. Was just feeling too weak. Am surprised I can sit and write this, have been feeling so out of it, so physically weak.

But being ill has its advantages; you have an excuse for everything, you are meant to sleep loads and loads, and you generally take a break from busy day to day life. But this type of taking a break doesn’t mean you can go out and catch up with friends and sort things out, it’s more of a hibernate from the world break. Which is sometimes required. And when you do go back to work, you realise that the world carried on without you, and you really shouldn’t have worried so much. Your students asked where you were, you missed a couple of meetings and are a few lessons behind (you also missed some deadlines – oops) but that’s pretty much it.

And being this ill doesn’t happen often, twice a year for me; near the beginning and near the end, discounting the awful hayfever in between. And it does make you appreciate things, like work, and friends, and day to day life, and being up and about and stuff. Your health.

Ok, so I guess that’s why I’m writing this. If I can go into work tomorrow, I will. And I’ll pick up from where I left off, and catch up, and try to find all the stuff that’s been nicked from my desk. And If I can go into work tomorrow, I won’t. I’ll rest, and I’ll read if I can, and watch TV/films if I can, and try and get better.

I need to go and wash my hair, but don’t even feel like I have the energy for that right now. Sympathy..?

Part 6

2010-03-08T03:51:00.000-08:00

Don’t ever stop these things you do, don’t ever become boring. Don’t stop being you. Like these bright pink nails and stuff. The crazy things you do. Don’t think you have to leave parts of yourself to be the perfect daughter-in-law. Do these nutty things you do from time to time, and they’ll get used to it. It’ll be like, ahh she’s a bit mental, but its ok, and that’s it.

I'm Too Young, Part 5.

2010-03-07T04:56:00.001-08:00

How do you tell a guy you don’t want to live with his parents? That yes, you can’t wait to live with him, marry him, be more than his girlfriend, but that the thought of living with his parents makes you want to book the first seat out of Heathrow and fly as far away as your plastic allows you. How do you tell him, that it’s not just his parents you don’t want to live with, but anyone’s parents. That as much as you love and care for them, you’re even looking forward to not living with your own parents any more.

What is it with this Asian culture. It’s not a Muslim thing, it’s an Asian sub continent thing. And for some reason, it seems to have seeped into our generation. Well, the male members of it anyway. Yes, there are financial constraints, and yes, there are concerns about looking after elderly parents. But till they need us to look after them, surely they value their no-need-of dependence-yet state of life.

I’m sure that, back in the sub continent, or east Africa, or where ever this derived form and is practiced, it worked, because that was society and that was the context and it was done for a reason. But you can’t apply every tradition to every context; it just won’t work like that. Times are different, people are different, society is different, even hopes and dreams and aspirations are different. Children are raised differently and even the roles of men and women have altered and changed somewhat. Many friends have entered into this living with the in laws thing, not one has had no problems, not one is 100% happy.

And yes, no marriage or relationship is going to be perfect, it’s all going to be hard and a test and involve sacrifice, why make it even harder, why put extra stress and strain on everything?

Take an adult, a grown up in their own right with their own career, and ask them to live under the roof of another family, follow their rules, regulations and practices, sacrifice parts of who they are, and do the best they can. Who would willingly do this? Then throw in the person they’ve fallen for in to the mix, and the conundrum arises. Still, do you go for it? Knowing that you would have to quell and sacrifice parts of who you are, your being and your nature, to please the people you live with. Even though those parts of your being and nature were the very things that made said person fall for you. Then what happens to your relationship, your marriage?

Culture is a beautiful thing; it informs us of our identity, gives us tradition and belonging, fills life with colour and music and clothes and food, zest and family and spice and love. But it’s not all lovely and perfect, it has constraints and conditions too. Will it cage in my free spirit, my tendency to fly and sporadic bouts if impulsive spontaneity. My independence – what attracted you to me. Or do we consolidate what we know, mix it up with the best bits of cultures we are from and have grown into, amalgamate the best of both worlds the best we can, and create a better future, a better culture for our children, whilst maintaining our spirit, our identity and our roots. Finding the balance and getting it right somehow.

Free spirit culture cage.

The Project Manager (Architect)

2010-03-04T03:43:00.000-08:00

Me and dad measured my nose. its 40mm from bridge to tip, 30mm from upper lip to tip, 30mm from side (nostril) to tip and 25mm from nostril to nostril.

We're weird like that.

(Dad had his measuring tape out for some sort of work he was doing. When I came downstairs, and he had it in his hands finishing off what he was doing.)

Liza Garza, Warsan Shire, Talented Women, Word.

2010-02-28T13:45:00.000-08:00

This woman is amazing, so talented and beautiful, I love her. I’ve pasted some of her stuff below without changing anything at all. She’s articulated some of my thoughts and feelings for me.
Her blog can be found at http://lizagarza.wordpress.com/

haiku
Posted in 1 on February 27, 2010 by lizagarza

im tryin to get
to know me in front of you
please close your eyes tight
today.

Posted in 1 on February 27, 2010 by lizagarza

i give thanks for my parents. who have stood by my side when i made standing near me impossible…they have shown me love in ways i seek to return and to pass on to my children…

i give thanks for the lil things that bring me so much joy it makes my belly hurt… literally…watchin my daughter learn where he nose is…hearin my sons make new music…or even from a distance seein them confide in eachother…learning how to perfect their lives…and there selves…

i give thanks for my companions…who are truthful and sincere…and beautiful reflections of light…

i give thanks for the remembrance of GOD…for the ease that this brings me and the desire to remember…

ask yourself what is your purpose…what is your mission and are you fulfilling it…are you staying true to your path and surrounded by those who will call you to it…

i once heard a quote that i wish i would remember more ”doubt your doubts believe you beliefs”…hold to this with me…

and begin new….in loving and taking every moment and giving it its right…

live now.

love now…

day2. (5daycommitment)
Posted in 1 on February 21, 2010 by lizagarza

secrets held so solemn even we forget there meaning

lest we forget our lives

lest we forget our soul

lest we forget our passsions

lest we forget our treasures…hidden in heaven…where dust can not reside…where our fears could never hide…and our lusts become lost never to be found again…i swear ive seen my soul ascend. pastures of pleasure…

if i could only remember while i am forgetting the sins that were inscribed upon me…the burden removed from me…i would be a better woman…i could be a better servant but how soon i sully myself…choosing scabs and scars…blood and bruises….as my beauty marks…ive lost the part of me…that keeps me balanced…i hold me silent when i should be screaming…i hold me hostile when i should be loving…i hold me softly when i should be fighting…as if this were my last breath…as if this was my last test…my first truth…seems like it is now a distant friend…who seldom thinks of me…never dreams of me…and has lost any sweet desire to hold my presence…hold me present…in thought…or…person…

im passing…barely…and proving…less worthy…less holy…less wholesome…like the stories that fall from my mothers lips…how her beauty makes them so lovely…

so sacred…so solemn we hold our secret…even we forget their meaning…

day1. (5daycommitment)
Posted in 1 on February 20, 2010 by lizagarza

certain days i tend to agree with all that is good and pure and rich and worthy

and i welcome light as it were a lil child or a royal king a crown to place upon my forehead lightly touched with riches unmeasurable unleashed and unexpected undenied and awaitin glory and grace. i have found my self in my self in His self so precious and precise practicing patience holding to my virtue trustin in my honor and yet i am still and sinner my soul singin of songs too ugly to be unvieled for by the grace of my lord i am still loved and worthy to be hidden from the frowns of my enemies and of my loved ones…i have loved one man more then my mind can contain…more then i knew… i could not claim none of myself from that day forward….from that day backward i wonder where she went…and who she took with her…if i could time travel and tune in to visit a woman i know i must have loved…but too soon forgotten…too soon…it rottens like fruit in a dark damp place…lost life in a dark damp place…where the dry seeds also sprout…where we lose all doubt because we are left with no other option…. irresistible certainty…circling like spirit anointed doves…divine and designed for you to relax and reflect on love…in love…in awe…in God…

I also love Warsan Shire. It’s scary how talented someone so young can be. But I guess we are blessed in different ways. Is it bad to be jealous of someone’s talent?! Hehe. I think it is. Beautiful. This girl has a way with words like no one I’ve seen before.

Her blog can be found at http://warsanshire.blogspot.com/

I love writing and wish I could do it more often. I don’t know if I’ve got a talent (I got out of practice after primary school – says a lot for our wonderful educational system doesn’t it – haha)I’d like a creative project or something, something with a bit of direction to which I can channel my words. Although I also love the freedom of just being able to write and type my words and sentences and thoughts and feelings. I’m going to think of some things. I’ve got some really creative and talented friends, I’m going to ask them about project ideas.

---
was just thinking about you, saw a beautiful pic of a hijabi on Sartorialist and it made me want to take pictures of you. Your smile is more beautiful than hers

http://thesartorialist.blogspot.com/2009_12_01_archive.html

scroll down a bit.

I am Able, Gifted and Talented

2010-02-27T11:56:00.000-08:00

I feel rather empowered. Confident and sure of myself, my capabilities, my potential. I am proud of myself. I feel like I am a professional in my own right. This feeling is fleeting, and too few and far in between life as we know it, so I am going to bask, and glow, and make the most of it. Life will be back to same old same old by tomorrow, but till then, I’m enjoying this. And I am going to be grateful for it.
There was a position going for the post of AGT coordinator. That basically means sorting out the provision for students who are exceptionally talented in any area of school, any subject. The role itself involves a lot; it’s a whole school responsibility. I could go on about the role but I’m just going to paste the job description here:

• Audit current levels of provision for G&T within the school and develop strategies for improvement;
• Maintain a register of able, gifted and talented pupils within the school and update biannually;
• Identify and disseminate good practice in developing the abilities of able, gifted and talented pupils;
• Keep abreast of new resources and initiative developments for G&T students and disseminate this information to Heads of Faculty/Heads of Department;
• Act at the “champion” of able, gifted and talented pupils within the school by creating and sustaining positive attitudes towards them and ensuring that provision for able, gifted and talented pupils is kept at the heart of the school’s agenda for developing learning and teaching;
• Work alongside the SLT line manager for G&T to ensure appropriate Borough and DCSF documentation is produced on time

As you can see, dear anonymous cyber reader if you are indeed there, it’s rather quite extensive. Almost like a head of faculty role I’ve been told. And this is the second version – nobody applied for the first as it was too much work. I even told a member of SLT that I thought so, and it was then that they reduced it. Nay, not reduced, more of a condensation, or summarization if you like. English is my subject and I’m a smarty-pants, so I know these things. Ha.

So I went for it, and the interview was ok…some of my answers got a hmm and some got a big grin. When I asked them my questions, turned out hardly any timetable allocation was being made, no training, no negotiating on the (pitiful, sorry lowest) TLR and a start on Monday. Monday! The interview was on Thursday! They asked me if I were offered the role would I accept, and I replied saying I needed some time to consider it. I was then told then I had to decide there and then, as the decision was to be made that evening. I then graciously and politely as I could said that I think it’s an amazing role and opportunity, but without the adequate time table allocation I wouldn't be able to perform the job to the best of my ability, and feeling about it as I do (I do genuinely think it’s a really important and much required role) I thank you for your time but am withdrawing my application. There was some silence and then conversation started up again, and I was told I’d still get feedback on my interview performance, which will probably happen next week.

Basically, it’s a massive role. Anyone who works in a school, or education, will know this. They are not valuing it, or the person doing it, as they should. It’s the same TLR I am on now, but it’s a whole school responsibility. My responsibility is only faculty based at the moment. It’s not just about the money though. How cans someone do such a huge role with no training whatsoever, and start in two days?! And time allocation – it wouldn’t have been instead of what I do now, it’s would have been on top of everything. So I withdrew and it felt great! If you can’t recognize my worth, or those of the students, then I will, they at least deserve better than that. And this is in no way a downer on the person who got the job – all the best to you, and I mean that sincerely.

During the interview I was asked about my ideas for raising the profile of AGT students, and as I reeled them off, you could see one of the interviewer’s eyebrows rising higher and higher, and smile getting wider and wider. Now I know I won’t be getting any credit for these ideas, but that’s ok. I do feel sorry for the poor sod who will actually have to realize them; great as they were, they were also a lot of hard work!

I have been thinking about my career recently – where I want it to go, how long for, if I should move schools, if I should change altogether, if I should pack up and travel around the world…inshallah. Starting back at the bottom of another career wouldn’t be that bad cos I’m still young, but it’s the decision making and stability and the rest of it. Here’s a little quote from a speech in the film Coach Carter, cheesy but you gotta love it. Must always be positive.

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small doesn’t serve the world. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”

I'd also quite like someone to revamp this blog for me and make it look cool and pretty and orange-tree reflective...any takers?!

The pens have been lifted and the pages have dried

2010-02-27T11:35:00.000-08:00

“Yearning for Allah and His meeting is like the gentle breeze blowing upon the heart, extinguishing the blaze of the Dunya. Whosoever caused his heart to settle with his Lord shall be in a state, calm and tranquility, and whosoever sent it amongst the people shall be disturbed and excessively perturbed.” - Ibn al Qayyim al Jawziyyah

On the authority of Abdullah bin Abbas, who said: One day I was behind the prophet and he said to me: “Young man, I shall teach you some words [of advice]: Be mindful of Allah, and Allah will protect you. Be mindful of Allah, and you will find Him in front of you. If you ask, ask of Allah; if you seek help, seek help of Allah. Know that if the Nation were to gather together to benefit you with anything, it would benefit you only with something that Allah had already prescribed for you, and that if they gather together to harm you with anything, they would harm you only with something Allah had already prescribed for you. The pens have been lifted and the pages have dried.”

Narrated by Tirmithi,

In a version other than that of Tirmithi it reads:

“..Be mindful of Allah, you will find Him before you. Get to know Allah in prosperity and He will know you in adversity. Know that what has passed you by was not going to befall you; and that what has befallen you was not going to pass you by. And know that victory comes with patience, relief with affliction, and ease with hardship.”

From:

http://yearningforallah.wordpress.com/2008/06/06/the-pens-have-been-lifted-and-the-pages-have-dried/

This is from an email sent to me about a talk on geometry. I wasn’t able to attend :( but I have been fortunate enough to see the amazing artform in themost majestic of places. It can take you to another level.

Geometric patterning can be seen within the artistic traditions of many cultures throughout history though it is the Islamic artisans who have been particularly prolific in this area of creativity. The fountains of Fez, the Jali panels of South Asia and mosques the world over all sing in one harmonious voice of praise unto the Creator whose own creativity surrounds us to the north, south, east and west as well as above us and below.

Geometry speaks to us at a deeper level which is most consciously experienced as a sense of awe from beholding the transcendent beauty of sacred art but mystics from many different religious traditions have also used geometry as a symbolic language to express profound spiritual meaning. The centre of a circle is a 'hidden' point which is reflected outwardly by the 'revealed' visible circumference that circumscribes it. In this way we are reminded of the 'hidden' Creator and the 'revealed' creation along with the Hadith Qudsi "I was a hidden treasure and I loved to be known, so I created the universe".

Calligraphy and art, pens and paper.

Ink and knowledge, brushes and colour.

Create of what your Lord has bestowed, realize in awe, the beauty within.

Be not scared of light. Be not afraid of your own potential.

(I wanted to add some pics but its not letting me :( not that technologically talented)

Photos and Cupcakes

2010-02-19T13:28:00.000-08:00

Your hand, as it searches for mine,
Its gentle roughness, holding me tight.
The warmth of your breath, skimming my skin,
Your eyes, on me, on mine, all night.
Time freezes,
But the beat drops, and we sway,
Uncontrollable, holding it down.
Holding myself, your arms around me.
Dreams, sighs, glances, brush past me and through me,
And your hand is there, searching for mine.

sTrEsS

2010-02-09T06:12:00.001-08:00

IT’S NOT LIKE ADRENALINE THAT PUMPS THOUGH YOUR VEINS. INSTEAD IT HAMMERS AWAY IN YOUR HEAD. IT DRILLS THOUGH YOUR BLOOD AND GRINDS YOUR TEETH; CLENCHES YOUR JAW, AND DOES THINGS TO YOUR BODY THAT YOU ARE UNAWARE OF. IT CAN BE INTENSE AND RATHER PAINFUL, AND VERY EASILY TAKES OVER WITHOUT YOU REALISING.

Breathe. Breathe. Sleep without sleeping. Be calm. Do your best and the rest is out of your hands. Breathe.

Part 4.

2010-02-08T13:41:00.001-08:00

I'm too young to get married.

2010-02-08T13:35:00.000-08:00

The snow came down again, hard and fast. Thick and cold. Harsh. I made myself walk face up, looking at the world. Let the snow settle on my face, let the cold sting my skin. Cold as sharp as ice. Sometimes I forgot and looked down, but I made myself look up as I walked. My woolly scarf protected what it could. Eyelashes glitter with snow flakes, my black coat turned white.

I made it to my car.

By the time I was home, the snow had stopped.

Can You Meet Me Halfway (I'm Too Young to Get Married Part 3)

2010-02-06T06:03:00.000-08:00

So what’s the deal with relationships? Family, or friendships, or colleagues or neighbors or acquaintances or friends of friends and their halves and etc etc. and then that one big relationship. This two way thing. This thing where it’s not just about you anymore. There’s someone else there; there with their own mood, their own temperament, their own thoughts and feelings and ways and means. What happened to me, myself and I? Where your whims and desires were catered for? Where your mood dictated the day, and vice versa. Now there are two. And whenever there is more than one, there will be politics. Catering to that, and remembering that, and thinking not just of yourself. Responsibilities are now more concentrated, more intent, simply because there is someone else to think about, and it’s not just about you anymore. Sometimes, this is why we are single for so long. Cos it can just get well long. Especially when your heart is in it too. Everything else is easy.

And the mood thing, when you have to tailor your mood to the other mood. You can’t be quiet, just. You can’t be moody, just. Your moods can directly or indirectly affect the other mood. And it can be positive or it can be negative. And one can bounce off the other, and rebound, and hit back again. Sometimes you can’t even be tired. It’s not a Hollywood romcom or a bollywood love story, its real life.

I’m not talkative. Or chatty. Or full of conversation and things to say. I’m just not. I’m not empty either, it’s all inside. Introverted and internalized. Its jut the way I am, the way I have had to be. And now to de-programme myself, to take a 180 degree turn, is not easy; to be open and readable and vocal and it may not happen. And then what? Will you get tired? Will you turn away?

And when we get closer, both emotionally and physically and mentally, where are you? Are you still in your space, or are you in mine? Or have we crossed the line that defined space and time? That line, metaphorical as it may be, changes in shape, in size, its hues and nuances of strength and forbearance. Where am I now? Pulling me closer and pushing me away. Pulling you closer and pushing you away. The walls and the borders are crumbling slowly, bit by bit. But that push strengthens them, build them up again. Perhaps they may be easier to break down again, as it’s just been done, or perhaps it’ll be even harder, as they have just been reinforced.

Meet me halfway, right at the borderline

That's where I’m gonna wait, for you
I'll be lookin out, night n'day
Took my heart to the limit, and this is where I’ll stay
I can't go any further then this
I want you so bad it's my only wish

Good Lovin'

2010-02-05T15:51:00.001-08:00

"When the energy is right the universe conspires in your favour."

And it’s all about the Galaxy Cookie Crumble. Oh yes. I’m not one for advertising, but... Ooooh yes. You need this in your life. Have it with chai latte (Nero) after Nando’s, which you also need in your life. Thank God :-)

Rock All Day

2010-02-05T15:49:00.001-08:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DtuCvMVoaoI
It makes me feel good.

When the beat drops, and your bones feel the vibe, shaking like the walls are closing in. alone in your room, or down in the middle of a heaving dance floor. Centre stage or underground basement, it makes me feel good.

I wish there was the perfect school/college. It would be so damn cool. Firstly it’d start quite late, like around 10. How sweet. And then finish at around 3 or 4. But of course, there are gaps in between and the timetable is more like a university one than a school one. So classes would consist of dance – hip-hop/street/belly/Latin/bollywood/etc. and you can choose whichever type you want. You could even choose all of them. Then there would be the other type of creative ones – art, design, graphics, etc. within which you u specialize, so I might take courses for Islamic calligraphy, geometry, ceramics, textiles, theatre, photography, etc, etc. and then there are history, language and literature classes, and you can study any area of them that you want, like I might choose Islamic history, Persian, African, and Indian history, Arabic, French, Mandarin, etc etc. And then you could even choose to teach some classes/courses (think I might go for the academic ones, cos I know I can do it!)

And the building would just be amazing, nice and airy and light and comfortable. And there’s a nap room. And a really good canteen which isn’t expensive. And the best library/IT facilities. And a really nice gym too.

The students and staff would be from all over the world, but have an understanding of the greatness of London. And holidays would be long enough to travel for lengthy amounts of time without paying premium peak rate prices. Obviously.

There’d be recreational programmes where you can do crazy ass things like sky diving and also stuff where you choose an area of society to volunteer for / do some community or charity work. And there’d be a media suite, with a radio station and other such hotness. Like Outlandish. <3

That’d be too cool (for school).

Attacks on British Muslims are being brushed under the carpet | Left Foot Forward

2010-02-05T13:22:00.000-08:00

Attacks on British Muslims are being brushed under the carpet Left Foot Forward

Some interesting points and quotes in this article.

A Fall from Grace

2010-02-04T08:14:00.001-08:00

Well not grace so much, more of a fall from 5 foot five height of my getting-more-generous frame above pavement level. Let’s make it 5 foot 6 with shoes. Icy and cold, sunny but crisp, thinking of the day ahead on a Monday morning walking into work, avoiding the ice, when woosh…one swift motion and one fell swoop, a sudden movement and…ok that’s weird. How come the ground is now rushing towards my face so quickly? And why is everything all lopsided? And what…oh right, I’ve slipped and am falling and its going quickly and don’t quite know how to stop this and. Pain. As my hands hit the concrete and take the full force of my body weight. As do my knees. And the shame of falling over in the street. And you get up, wincing, and try to pull yourself together, and check you’re ok. Hands, no cuts. Left leg, ok. Right leg, ok but no wait, a massive rip in my trousers, a huge gash in my skin and immense pain. I couldn’t care less about my knees but ripped trousers. On a school day, on a Monday morning. And my new favourite trousers. And boots scuffed. And I had plans that night. And I had hairy legs. The tears nearly came but I fought them back.

Thank God none of the kids saw.

So off I go, to the medical room, and get my knee seen to. And then off I go to the textiles room, and get my trousers seen to. Thank god for that. And then I get myself chocolate.

And now it’s all bloody and painful and gross, and really quite deep. And I can’t put any weight on it so I have to pray sitting on a chair which makes me feel like a little old lady. Moan, whinge and groan.

I seem to fall over and hurt myself more now then I did when I was a kid.

I Am Yusuf and This Is My Brother

2010-02-04T08:12:00.000-08:00

http://www.youngvic.org/whats-on?action=details&id=3235&gclid=CPzYxfSE2Z8CFRhp4wodDzRFHw

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Netr9Nr3G9A

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p2lW4-1AiC0

Amazing and beautiful. A stunning play with a poetic script. I strongly recommend this to you. You will fall in love, and you will understand. Somewhat.

Symbolic of so much with so little.

Common - the 6th sense

2010-01-30T12:28:00.000-08:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KTGxPiEg7iM

Was listening to it recently and the below lyrics reminded me of you

I just want to innovate and stimulate minds
Travel the world and penetrate the times
Escape through rhythms in search of peace and wisdom

I'm Too Young To Get Married 2

2010-01-26T13:55:00.001-08:00

I can't believe it all happened, and quite smoothly. The food was gorgeous (of course it was) and even dessert was a hit. The channa went so wrong, but nobody knows its my fault so that’s ok. There was talking, conversation, and amiable laughing, and survival. Before I was freaking out. Like, freakkkkkkkkkkkiiinnngggggggg ouuttttttttttttttttttttt. Mini palpitations et al. so nervous. But there was reciprocation and good news reports and feedback. Alhamdulillah.

So I thought its time to rest, to chill and be peaceful for a while. But no, they want to drive drive drive forward. Ask ask ask when I’m so tired after a long day, all I want to do is nothing. Literally, nothing. I couldn’t be more grateful, yet I don’t have the patience to explain properly, nor make them understand. Its no mahusive big deal, well kinda...ok its not disproportionally unfair by any means...but sigh nonetheless. Even writing this = physically painful.
I just want time, to breathe, to see, to pray, to think, to know. And then to feel.

Is that selfish?

I can see their reasons though.

So much has happened in the past few weeks / days, and I just want to slow down, just for a bit. But I don’t know if the guardians will get that. I don’t think they will. They said we are a nice family, and that they liked me. And other nice stuff too. They were nice as well. Very sweet. Yes there are reservations, but they are reserved for another post.

Wow, kinda can’t believe it all. Alhamdulillah. And dinner yesterday was so nice. Aww.

In other news, was pre approved again (twice) and was actually even pre approved by the bank for a platinum credit card. Haha. If only the rest of life was so easy!

Wings were made for flying right?

Muslim Driving School

2010-01-21T13:13:00.000-08:00

WTF?! Like seriously? Are you actually serious? On prime time BBC2 on a Tuesday evening? A TV programme about Muslims learning and teaching to drive. Bloody hell.

Are we that marginalized that a special series has to be made about us in cars? Cos we aren’t normal are we. I mean, pirates on ships and terrorists on planes, but now we are learning to drive? What is going on?

Imagine if there was a programme called Jewish driving school, or black driving school. Wouldn’t that make for interesting news press and various court cases. But that’s ok you see, cos us Muslims, we’re not normal people or anything, we don’t contribute to society or talk to people or live and work and go to school with others. So we have a special programme made all about us learning to drive. Fricking heck.

Shylock comes to mind:

Hath not a Jew eyes? Hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses,
affections, passions; fed with the same food, hurt with the same
weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same
means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer as
a Christian is? If you prick us do we not bleed? If you tickle us
do we not laugh? If you poison us do we not die? And if you
wrong us shall we not revenge? If we are like you in the rest,
we will resemble you in that.

But anyways, reservations, and initial disgust aside, curiosity enticed me to watch. I’d missed the first one and missed it from iplayer as well, so this was the second. And to be honest, it wasn’t all that bad. But I still feel my opening rant is totally justified. It showed Muslims learning to drive, and Muslims teaching others (Muslims) to drive (cos we can’t learn or teach from others now can we) in up north cities of Bradford and Burnley. So the context is different to what us southerners know and rightfully snobbily love here in London.

The programme focused on the stereotypes – oh joy. Recent immigrants who had settled here, young girls and forced marriage and looking for freedom, and the grandmother who has been here since she was 13 but still can’t speak English as one would expect. Or maybe it was that terrible northern accent. Haha. Yes I am in full snob mode and my mood dissuades me from being even one bit apologetic.

But it wasn’t all that bad. It was actually quite funny in places. It’s true that a lot of Muslim women prefer to learn from another female. That’s fine. But all the stories about arranged and forced marriages came out and led a lot of the narrative. Which yes is interesting. Cos that what we do – get married. And have babies. And then they get married. And have babies. And then we take over the world. Ha.

Ok, so we have the story of a husband and wife team who had set up a successful driving school, a divorced 18 year old finding her feet and looking for independence, the grandmother who runs the house and is now taking over her husband’s role as well. As the stereotypes became individual, it became more personal, and the stories became individuals. Funny, interesting, heartwarming, yes. But there’s something still unnerving about the whole concept. The other; the alien, the foreign…oooh lets see what they manage to do next.

This was written a while ago.

2010-01-16T10:14:00.000-08:00

You’ve made me fall for you. Or maybe you haven’t done it on purpose, but I have. This wasn’t meant to happen. I find myself on somewhat familiar looking but completely new ground. You have made me trust you; more than I ever thought I would again. I’m not quite sure what all this means, but I these words don’t turn into actions, if these promises aren’t fulfilled, I’m not quite sure how my body will take it, or how my temperament will react. Or if it will all just go numb, and on complete and utter lockdown. I’ve tried to hold up, I’ve tried to resist, but I’m too much of an open book at times, too see through. This wasn’t meant to happen. Not for a while yet. Don’t make me promises that you don’t know you can definitely keep. Don’t make me, or make yourself, believe in things that may not be 100% real. Yes, things are going to be hard and trying and testing, but let them be. Till words turn into actions, real actions, I don’t want to think about that stuff. All the stuff you say, all the things you promise, make them real for me, make them true and everlasting. Or don’t say it will happen, say you will do your best and try.

Haiti

2010-01-16T10:11:00.000-08:00

Earthquake and death and destruction and devastation. When things like this happen, I normally pay attention to the news, to the net, to general relief work and what’s happening. But this time, I don’t know, I seem to have shied away from it. The blood, the carnage and the pain. Is it too much or do I just not know how to react anymore. The feeling of helplessness and not being able to make a difference. I will donate, but is that all I can do? Is that all we can do? Charities and relief workers are on the ground, yet a headline I caught announced that Haiti is still in desperate need of international help. So what else. Will the people like you and me be left to their own resources, or complete lack thereof, to rebuild their lives and put together some semblance of reality or conventional normality? All with dealing with the grief of losing loved ones.

Having pizza with a best friend yesterday, BBC News was playing on the flat screen. Like the tsunami, earth quakes of Pakistan and Gujarat, hurricane Katrina…all worse than a film. Ashamedly, I was glad that my back was to the screen. I looked at the plate in front of me, the scenes of people and normality around me and outside the window, and muttered Alhamdulillah under my breath, feeling it in my heart. God tests those whom he loves, and does not burden a soul with more than it can bear. And that why I’m the princess I am. Quite sad isn’t it. Quite a blessing.

When my best friend said to me yesterday, this is sad, but people die every day, in wars, in conflicts, thought hunger and famine, and nobody gives a damn. My response was that this was a natural disaster, a case of the earth and its inhabitants, and nobody has any control over this. It’s also indiscriminate; if you are in the wrong place, or country or city, at the wrong time, it really doesn’t matter how rich you are, or how much education you have, or status, or fame, or power. And consider the sheer scale of the effect, hundreds and thousands in an instant. Yes of course humans can cause the same level of destruction, and often have, but not often in one fell sweep. And in a human conflict, there will be two sides of the story (apart from maybe Palestine and some others!) and truth itself gets lost. And its continuous, what humans do, the pain and suffering they cause to other humans and the environment around them.

How can news teams reach an area but aid cant? And the same goes for human conflicts. Reports on Haiti are playing on the news right now. It can be so hard to understand.

I’m not one of those who believes that God did this because he was angry with the inhabitants of an area. It doesn’t quite convince me. Maybe it’s a reminder. Maybe it’s a test. Not just for those directly affected, but for the rest of the world. Maybe it’s something for us to question and ponder, but maybe never truly understand. We can’t even comprehend the sheer scale of it all.

I <3 Extreme Weather = 2.5 Days off Work :)

2010-01-07T15:51:00.000-08:00

It is not the whiteness of the snow, freshly settled,
Blanketing earth
Hiding blemishes; a new concealer,
From which we allocate and infer its purity
Rather,
The lack of shade, of nuance,
Of footprints on the crunchy powder, cooling the most layered of toes,
Indenting their way and leaving their mark
To be swept away by flakes from the heavens;
Colder, cleaner, but as usinique as they are.
The cleanliness, the coldness, of soft filigree ice, fresh and new
Sullied, stained, ruined by feet,of those who tread without care, with abandon, in the pursuit of happiness.
Ice causing danger, obstacles, dilemmas,
Till the fall continues and a fresh blanket is spread, out of the wash or brand new, fluffy and clean.
Or melts away, like it was never even
there.

Now its all about 2010 (belated x7)

2010-01-07T15:49:00.000-08:00

A new year and a new term has started. Dont really know what to say or how I should be feeling. I normally hate new years, but seeing the fireworks was nice. I love fireworks, I think they are amazing. Although the journey home was long and fighting the freshies...an experience! I also love extreme weather. This seond bout of snow has been, literally and in every sense, a god send. School closed for the rest of the week is too good. Too good! Hmm I do hope I use it wisely instead of just chilling. Yeah right. And I left all my work, guess where, at work. Oh well. I think it was on purpose/subconscious. Some things may never change.

So new year and all that. Reading a lot of people’s blogs, they were all about resolutions, new starts, the assessments of the year just ended. I decided I woudn’t write something like that, not for any reason but that I didn’t want to. But speaking to someone, although it has been a really hard year, its also been amazing one, and I have so much to be grateful for. Alhamdulillah. So here are a few of those things, in no particular order:

· Going back to Spain and Rosales
· Being proposed to by the gorgeous Morroccan Spanish Imam (no I didn’t accept, but still very noteworthy)
· A best friend’s wedding (although it was traumatic for me in some ways, was very happy for her)
· Another best friend’s wedding (such fun, and I was asked to read out a poem which I had written myself)
· Going to India
· Being set up and getting quite a few offers
· Getting promoted at work
· Going to Poland (an arduous journey but it taught me a lot)
· Going to Bosnia
· Going to Ghana
· Getting closure
· Enjoying and appreciating being single
· Realising and learning a lot about myself and life and people and relationships
· Meeting someone amazing
· Starting this blog

For 2010...I want to see some action. I want to be part of it and act myself. Thats pretty much it. I dont make new years resolutions or anythign like that, but someone asked my what mine was. My instant reply was to dance more, and I’m going to stick to that one.

2010-01-07T15:44:00.000-08:00

When Allah’s grace

And mercy

Falls from above, from no where you can see.

Perches on your eye lash, sits upon your eyebrow

Brushes against your cheek and lands on your lip, cold but soft, like a kiss.

Close your eyes opening them wide,

Take in the wonder, that will melt away in moments.

Be not to harsh, nor hasty, in blinking brushing licking away a momentous blessing.

So magnanimous, it has melted away before you realise it.

Lest you not forget, nor deny the favours bestowed upon you;

The magnitude of the Magnificent

His glory evident in His beauty.

“You should write a book!”

2009-12-28T04:48:00.001-08:00

This is what quite a few people have said to me. Not a work of fiction I don’t think, but just about a few things that have happened in my life. I’m no discoverer or great adventurer (although sometimes I do act and feel like it) but I have had some pretty cool experiences Alhamdulillah. And some pretty uncool ones, for which I must also be grateful for. So if I were to write a book, chapters may be divided by people, places and events I guess. Here are some possible chapter titles, based on what people have told me to write about:

• The ISOC years (hahaha!)

• Spain (although this has been written about, even though not too extensively. Will have to dig it out)

• Travels (Malaysia, Turkey, Bahrain/Dubai, Kenya, Bosnia, Ghana, Poland, etc etc)

• Work (really wish I had written some of this stuff down)

• The ex and the closure (an epic within itself?! Haha. And the massive chapter following  )

• The solicitor

• The barrister

• The Russian

• The lil French man

• The best friends’ weddings

• The proposals

• The engineer

• The Swiss Sri Lankan

• Crocodile Shoes

• The guy from Medina

• The guy from Qatar

• The Imam

• The 8th of the 8th

• The Nando’s proposal

• And so on.

Im Too Young to Get Married

2009-12-28T04:47:00.000-08:00

You wait ages for a bus, and then they really do all come along at once. And I haven’t used public transport in ages. Well not buses anyway. As soon as you set your sights on something, or decide on a certain route, about a million other options pop up, when just a while ago, there were no options at all.

So, 6th or 7th proposal in about two months. That’s pretty good going. Am really surprised and flattered. And despite all my reservations and hang ups about the traditional route, it’s actually really nice. Really nice.

It’s like being pre approved. When Joey in Friends starts on Days of Our Lives, he get pre approved for credit and is so happy. “I’ve never been pre approved for anything before!” (Yes, many of my life references do arise from American sitcoms and mainstream pop music, sigh). Anyway, imagine being offered a place on a good uni course at a good uni, without even having to apply for it. Or being offered a job without an interview, or even having a position created especially for you when there was no vacancy as such. Then it’s up to you whether you take it or not. How nice is that? Yes, you may have to make a very quick decision, but that’s the flip side of it. Whereas if you go through the whole ‘application process’ of your own accord, you can afford to take a bit longer. In fact, it will take much longer, cos they didn’t even know you existed, let alone that you are applying. They may not even want you to apply, let alone fill the vacancy. But then, you’ve got to go through it, you’ve got to do what is best for you. Even if you don’t even know what that is.

In an Ideal World?

2009-12-27T00:34:00.000-08:00

"Then Almitra spoke again and said, And what of Marriage, master?

And he answered saying:

You were born together and together you shall be for evermore.
You shall be together when the white wings of death scatter your days.
Aye, you shall be together even in the silent memory of God.
But let there be spaces in your togetherness.
And let the winds of heavens dance between you.

Love one another, but make not a bond of love:
Let it be a moving sea between the shores of your souls
Fill each other's cup but drink not from one cup.
Give one another of your bread but eat not from the same loaf.

From Khalil Gibran's The Prophet

2009-12-25T13:00:00.001-08:00

Your overwhelming love for me..

Privacy Settings

2009-12-24T14:19:00.000-08:00

I feel the need to write. I don’t know why. I’m feeling lots of things at the moment. And they aren’t bad things Alhamdulillah. Which is nice. Lots of things to express and explain to myself. And keep private so that nobody knows. Some time ago, I made it my personal target to write more. Not for any other reason than to get in some practice of just writing, to get feelings out of me, to express myself and communicate, and to let words do their thing. If ever they do actually do what they are meant to. I am well aware of my issues with language and words and the general paradox of life.

I feel so much right now. Positivity and a touch of trepidation. Or not trepidation…I don’t know. That word just came into my head. I never thought that this would happen; never in a million years. I haven’t made a decision; it seems the universe has decided. It has unfolded in this way, and I didn’t have anything to do with it. Too much to be coincidence, and the chaos theory and all that. The universe unfolds. The way things happen. Not a leaf falls from a tree but with His knowledge, and He is closer to me than my jugular vein.

I can’t resist. I can try, and I have tried, and I am quite strong sometimes, but I can’t fight this. It’s like its taking over me. Creeping and seeping into me. I am trying to hold up, but the barriers are tumbling down. The borders are becoming blurred and definitions undefined. And standing fast has taken on a new meaning. Being patient. Being blessed. Being tested in different ways. Some familiar, some new territories that lay in wait. And how will I react. How will I sit, and stand, and fight, and be me. And be the best that I can be. And hold on to the essence of who I am and what brought me here. For if that is lost, then it’s a different game, and all has changed and is in risk of being misled.

And who is to say, where this path will lead. For those who stray find new paths. And yet I am being limited with my words and my thoughts and my ideas, my feelings and emotions and dreams. I can’t give too much away, not now, not yet. Although I can be read as easily as a book, look into my eyes is like looking though a glass window into a different world, and what lies beneath. When you have no control, but you know you have no control, surely that gives you some ownership. If you believe in theories.

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow

2009-12-21T13:42:00.000-08:00

I thought I’d be ok

I thought I’d be strong,

I thought I’d hold on, long enough.

Resist the pull, of gravity, of force, if its natural, then what am I to do.

And I feel myself falling, slowly swiftly, drifting towards some undefined destination.

The strength of the wind, the weakness of the cloud, sends me falling,

From side to side.

A pretty snowflake, fragile and unique,

To melt in a puddle or settle on the solid earth.

Falling quickly, softly, gently, here and there

Towards you.

Princess Marshmallow

2009-12-11T07:37:00.001-08:00

is like a box of chocolates

A Sweet Dream, or a Beautiful Nighmare?

2009-12-06T07:43:00.000-08:00

Testing me and blessing me.
Which way do I turn, where am I supposed to go?
To You.

The One.

This was meant to be posted a few weeks ago

2009-12-06T07:41:00.000-08:00

Not necessarily good or bad, just some things I’ve noticed…

Some people I seem to attract:

Are quite loud / talkative (this is not a bad thing, I am very quiet or can be depending on my mood

Are from large traditional families

Speak in a funny way

Have a lot of female friends

Buy me really nice books as surprise presents (this is definitely not a bad thing)

Are, from within their own nations of origin, somewhat looked down upon for whatever reason

Have baggage (but then who doesn’t, I have baggage too)

Are the middle child (middle child syndrome?)

Can be too damn cute sometimes.

Random Jottings

2009-11-28T10:55:00.000-08:00

We used to get a newsletter from an Islamic organisation called The Message. I think we still do, but the best pages are no longer featured. Entitled Random Jottings (and this bunch of random thoughts is a remembrance/celebration to that) they had the funniest and yes the most random bits of information and stories on there.

Does every man think he is God’s gift? It seems so; from the most humble to the egotistical, richest to poor, black to white, big to small, and everything in between. You’re nice, there’s no doubting that, but your hardly Prophet Yusuf now are you?!

Being at the mosque for Eid salaat yesterday was nice. I love the takbeers and the atmosphere. It actually feels like Eid. And it’s also a bit of a fashion show. Many would complain against this, but I see it in the best possible light – and I love it. I love greeting my dad and brother when we come outside, it’s the only time my little brother will actually hug me willingly in public. I tried giving him a kiss just to embarrass him but of course he wasn’t having any of it. One day I’ll get it though! It makes me sad to think that one of these eids may even be my last eid at home with my family, if things are meant to work out that way. I know its life, but it’s still sad.

Yesterday I really felt like part of the community. This doesn’t happen often. Rarely. Hardly ever. Being in the mosque and then being greeted by ‘Hi Miss!’ and ‘Eid Mubarak Miss!’ was actually really nice. And meeting parents and being invited home for tea. I don know if it’s the recognition, and/or the stroking of the ego, but it felt nice nonetheless.

Even though I’ve been back a few weeks, people keep asking me about Ghana. (I wore my new long green dress from the market on eid day. Loved it) My response – amazing. And it was. A truly blessed experience. Beautiful in every sense. The people, the food (of course!) the place, the opportunity, the history and culture, the scenes and sounds and sights and smells. Observing lessons, even teaching a class, presenting at a head teacher’s conference, the British Council and Ministry of Education, as well as drumming and dancing and the beach, cape coast slave port, the market place and hotel. Subhanallah to the lush palm trees and breathtaking sunsets – the sun would sink below the horizon at an astonishing speed, with an array of fiery and pastel hues dashed around the impending darkness of the night sky. Sights that not even the most talented artist could have envisaged.

On our return, my friend and teacher travel buddy commented that we were returning to reality. But were we? Or rather were we returning to the bubble we are so accustomed to; of luxury and privilege and chaos and existence? Even though we were only there for a week, felt like it was much longer, and we weren’t coming back to life; that we had, amongst the deadlines and paperwork, forgotten what life actually is. But then it’s all relative isn’t it. Whilst they have a lot to do, we also have an immense amount to learn from them. Culture seems to get in the way quite a lot doesn’t it. I’m craving grilled chicken, with some salad and yam chips, followed by plantain, washed down with Alvaro or glass bottle Coke. And the kids are so amazingly beautiful, mashallah. I know why Madonna steals babies, hehe.

What is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to you? Not just a guy who thinks you’re pretty and wants your attention, but something that someone has said, and really meant it. A few things come to mind, but this is one I remember a lot.

Dad: if you were a fruit, what fruit would you be?

Me: ummm… a strawberry.

Dad: why’s that?

Brother: cos she’s small and red and round, hahaha

Me: hahaha

Dad: I thought you’d be a pomegranate.

Me: a pomegranate? Ooh I love pomegranates. But why?

Dad: cos pomegranates are nice to look at from the outside, but once you look inside, they are just fascinating.

:-)

Heard something on the radio news during the week that someone had been arrested / on trial for preparing, or inciting jihad or something like that. Jihad. Like seriously. Do you even know what it is? The philosophy behind it all? Do not use such a term so loosely. Learn and then apply. A little less intelligence a little more intelligence me thinks. So like, I’m in the news every day. How is the media portraying me now? Still the oppressed female, still the religious fanatic. Open your eyes and open your mind, and listen with your ears. And you’ll learn something new that you didn’t know before.

The next item on the news was about integrating Muslims and trying to include them in society. Ha. I wonder, did anyone else not get the irony in this?

Men really are like buses aren’t they. You wait for ages, and they all come at once. It’s been ages since I’ve been on a bus (literally, in real life). Two more to complete the over, let’s see if I can hit a six…inshallah ;)

Matters of the heart, and mind, and body and soul, all mixed up and everything in between.

Eid-ul-Adha 2009

2009-11-26T14:15:00.000-08:00

The footsteps of Ibraheem. Sacrifice what you have been abundantly blessed with. As humanity gathers, and souls are cleansed, the hungry are fed, and thirst quenched. But forget not, that time passes, carries, at speed. And forget not, the promise you made, to yourself, your lord, of peace.

Memories, of what seem a distant time, a land, a space, seep though and highlight the day. Wishes of a future, nearer to The Creator; mind, body, spirit, soul.

As we gather with love, and away from it, as we share what we have to, need to, want to. As the footsteps in the sand are wind swept away, let your intention be pure, even if it seeks otherwise.

Blessed be your day, your time, your space, you.

Eid Mubarak.

Words, words are all I have...as sung by Ronan and the boyz(one)

2009-11-26T07:38:00.000-08:00

Words can sometimes never express what we really mean, or feel. They have this innate inability to never do what you want them to do. Or perhaps its our own inadequacies of weaving through the complexities of language. This whole communication thing has often gotten me into various degrees of trouble. Sometimes however, we find that someone else has somehow managed to articulate our personal philosophies. Perhaps what has been circulating around the floors of our minds or spiralling in our hearts. And you then feel glad that someone has managed to do it, albeit with that tinge of jealousy. Either way, at least words are there. But they'll often fail you when you need them the most. Or come to you too late.

A student gave me something she had written and wanted me to read it. It was simple, but so nice. I felt honoured that she asked my opinion - it wasnt really anything to do with what we wre learning about in class, well not explicitly anyways. It was about God, and life and belief and curiosity. Such a sweet nice talented girl. I really do wish her all the very best. When she asked for advice, I told her to keep writing. Whatever came to mind, whatever came to heart, whatever she wondered or felt, it would always be better on paper. Getting things out, whether anyone reads them or not, can free you. Like a release.

Having said that, I need to take my own advice. So much I've been experiencing and thinking and feeling that I haven't yet penned or typed. Stored away in the files of my memory, could be lost at any moment. I will write them, becuase I do want to. I want to keep this going, and improve it and improve myself. I dont want things to go stale. And that is quite scary. When mundane day to day life takes over, and you dont even have time for your own thoughts, your ideas, your hopes and fears and dreams. When the to do list is so long, that there is no longer time to live,merely exist. Or perhaps this brings my personal organisation into question. Either way, I've finally gotten this done. More msuigns to be outpoured in the near future me thinks.

I was asked recently by someone I had just met whether I had a blog, and I lied. I said no. Im not too sure why I did that. Well there's another lie. One always leads to another. See how words get you into trouble? It gets too confusing to keep up and cover each track. A split decision, I didnt want him to see it. Some very important people in my life do not know of its existance. Some do. Some may chance upon it. For strangers or family, its now in the public domain. Also said individual has too many close connections for the time being. Nice person, but Im wondering if in the future he read this, what he will think. Haha.

Words can escape you, elude you, delude you, trick you and make you fall. Make them real. Dont give me words. Whilst in short supply, there are enough of those already. Show me how you get down (a la migraine skank if you so wish). Let me see some action.

Work Rant

2009-10-12T14:04:00.000-07:00

Do Uff nights precede uff days?

I like my job, I do. Its fun and interesting and creative and challenging. But today was not one of those days. Getting out of bed in the morning kills it. You can imagine how the rest of the day unfolds.

I’m usually noted for my manner with the classes I teach, and the positive relationship I’ve managed to build up with them. However, the past few days would prove this to be but a myth. I’ve been irritable, ratty, impatient. I’ve even shouted. And its something I dont generally do. I dont like it and I’m not good at it.

I’ve realised recently that its not the kids that are the problem. They are kids after all, crazy hormonal teens coping with everything modern society and apparent civilisation throws at them. Its the adults. Dont get me wrong, I work with some wonderful people. Some. The others – not so much.

Anyways, driving to work this morning, already pissed off for being later then intended (so whats new there – but this time due to princess little brother taking his sweet ass merry time in the bathroom) thoughts kept coming to me. I needed to get out. I needed to leave. A fresh change, to work somewhere else. Somewhere where I’m not worked to the bone for no gratitude or appreciation. Where I can bloody park my car within a mile radius without having to fight some little woman on a power trip. But all that aside, maybe I do need a break? I feel like I’m not being myself much. I’m hoping this will pass. Soon. Inshallah.

I’m tired of being tired. Feeling run down has become the norm.

I keep reminding myself why I’m doing this job, why I chose this career. I need to stick with it just a little bit longer.

I love learning, so I’d like to return to studying. And not just a student lifestyle! And travelling is my passion, and sometimes, like today, I want to pack up and fly away. Forget packing up, the flying is enough. A dream come true would be the combination of both, with some extra benefits thrown in ;)

There are good days, great days, amazing moments, all be them few and far in between. I just haven’t had them recently. So maybe thats what I need.

And then, being on time for an appointment at the opticians, i was made to wait 45 mins for a 5 minute check. Yes, 45 frickin minutes!!! What the hell was that all about. Oh sorry about that, we ahd three young children to test. So? Dont youknow little kids take forever to have their eyes checked? I knew that adn i’m not anywhere near being an optician, or even dispensing. Lack of common sense that wasted an hour of my life. Can’t you even book appoinments? Is that too much for you? If its one thing I can’t stand its incompetence. I know I’m not perfect at my job, but I’ve pretty much got the basics down. Sort it out. Bloody hell.

Life.

I just watched life. Life and colour and survival and..kinda puts things into perspective doesn’t it. Subhanallah.

Fear

2009-10-12T12:27:00.001-07:00

What is it that holds us back? Is out my own inadequacy and lack of capability. No. I’m intelligent, perceptive, and sensitive. Perhaps its my fear. Im scared. And I dont know what of. Of getting burnt? Of achieving? Of being the best I can be? Of making a real live difference? Of being successful? Of being happy? Is it all too much to be accountable for? Or am I really just scared of trying, ‘cos you never know what is going to happen, right?

I can’t keep comparing things to the way they were. What has been has come and gone, and will never return. I will never be exactly the was I was, and nor will the circumstances. If I keep comparing things, will I ever truly be able to live, as opposed to merely exist? I need to value the past for what it was – the past. I cant let it dictate my future. I have to take new things, new people, new challenges as they come. As every experience builds who we are, you cant let it dictate to you. Learn from it. Learn from others. Dont make their mistakes as well as your own.

Isn’t it sometimes ok to be a bit cheesy, a bit contrived, to say whats actually going on in your heart or your mind? To let the barriers down? To trust? But what if you’re not even sure if you can trust yourself anymore. Then what?

And as these thoughts spun and dizzied around in my mind late last night, preventing me from falling asleep and keeping me wide awake, I imagined the past meeting the future in some collision, where I ended up in tears and my make up ran down my face and I looked like a clown in mourning. A bit of bathos for you there. I imagined pain, and tension and perhaps even some anguish, but it was overwritten with care and compassion and understanding. But what if the latter isn’t present? And then the question came – what are you thinking? If only I could tell you. It would have been unfair of me to ask you the same question I couldn’t answer myself. But that doesn’t detract away from me wanting to know. If only you knew.

You’ve given me that little bit of faith back. Thank you. Thank Allah who brought you to me, or me to you. Even for this, I am grateful.

As the ebbs and flows of time tease us, do we become but servants of our own fate? Will we let ourselves be mocked, will I allow myself to be derided? Perhaps I’m scared that the past will cloud over whats to come. But I’ve got to be honest, about my intentions and about myself. I’m going to face things, I’m going to have to face myself. As scary as it is, worse than cockroaches or heights or being burnt, if I dont face myself, who will?

Heroes

2009-10-09T08:00:00.000-07:00

So I read out the poem at my friend's wedding. I was so nervous, I was shaking, but it was amazing. As in, it was an amazing experience, not that I was amazing. My hand was shaking but I tried to rad it as best I could in front of 400 people. And my lil brother filmed me on his phone. I think quite a few people did, which isnt a very nice thought. But such is modern technology I'm afraid. The acousitcs in the hall were quite bad, but it still worked, and it was a beautiful setting. I was up on a balcony with the bride, groom, cake and chocoalte cups (yum) and it felt really special. I'm so glad I could do something cool for my friends on their wedding day, they deserve every happiness. They've been through so much. Inshallah they will live happily ever after. I started crying when my friend's dad brought her into the hall after the nikkah. It just shook me inside. The ruksati...well I was ok but thats another story. The favour biscuits went down well with tea for breakfast the next morning though :) Shame I dodnt get a picture of them. I got some really cool shots though, quite pleased with them. The whole weekend was amazing. Some great memories there, which will be with us for years. Happy times to draw on and be grateful for when things get tough.

A few people came up to me afterwords to tell me how good it was, which was so sweet. The best was one little girl, who must have been about 8 or 9 came up to me and was like 'Oh my I just loved your poem, its better than mine adn my sister's all the other poems I've written, it was great!' with a big grin and two thumbs up. !!!!! How cute is that, so sweet. I was so humbled. And then I had a conversation with her all about the poem and the wedding, at which point the dj started up, so we went on to speak about dancing, and I encouraged her to get on the dance floor and have some fun. Thinking about this later, I realised ooopps, not meant to be encouraging young girls to be doing that. So I thought, hopefully, she'll get it all out of her system now, so when she hits puberty and beyond its not a big deal. Or that cos she's still a kid, it doesnt count anyways. But what if she gets a taste for it and keeps up the dancing and then Im held accountable cos I was the one who encouraged her and its all my fault. Oooopps! Astaghfirullah. And then I met a friend from college who I hadn't seen since I was 18 and we lost touch and it was just too good to see her again and I got all excited and forgot about it. So you can see my conundrum.

I've just realised how chunky my paragraphs are, and they really need to be broken down, but I'm going to leave them. They are but thoughts after all.

Its been such a busy week. been out every night after work, and am seriously sleep deprived. Its been fun though, and I plan to spend saturday in hibernation. Zzzz.

It was National Poetry Day at work the other day, and there was a competition for the best poem, the theme being heroes. One for students and one for staff. I really wanted to write soemthign for the staff competition, but had like zero insppiration or ideas. So I jotted some notes and random thoughts down, and here's what I came up with. I thought it was a bit crap but a friend told me he loved it, which made me go all warm and fuzzy inside :) Anyways, here it is. Make of it what you will, and anyone who is reading this feel free to leave your comments.

Without an atlas, you found a way. Straying from the path, you found a new one.

Its not blood that binds us; cells and molecules,

Related by something deeper.

From one of us, chosen amongst us,

An orphan lost, searching for home.

Fought the battle, as it rages on, soldiers are weaker, the enemy snowballs. But you won the peace,

Of my heart

Peace is with you.

The desire to be with you, to share water with you.

Faith in you, and your faith in me. As the moon splits and the mountains move, boulders turn to wisps of cotton.

Arid desert, dry. To severity and harshness you brought serenity; luscious green.

Darkness though to light, arrogance to gratitude,

Thorns in your path, nor blood, nor words, nor derision hindered you. You still found me.

You, because you’ve always been there.

Held up the sky, kept the rain out.

Endure valiantly, noble in the face of oppression.

Maintain your dignity, fought with resilience, caged in.

Lead from danger to safety, the innocent depend on you, guiding though the mines,

Under fire. Unsung.

True love and knowledge,

Promises have been kept, the trust will never be broken.

Public Speaking

2009-09-29T13:57:00.000-07:00

So, the poem I worte and read out at the Sangeet, my friends loved it. I'm really glad they liked it. I even saw the groom (both bride and groom are old friends since way back) wipe a tear away. I didnt mean to make anyone cry! But I'm happy that it made them happy.

When I went up to them after to give them the poem and get a hug (they were well surprised) they asked me to read it out at their wedding. That was my surprise. I was so humbled.

The wedding is on saturday. About 400 people. Eeeekkkk!!!

I know I teach public speaking, now its time to actually do it...but 400 people!! Need to get some practice in. Some words have changed since I posted it cos of a few suggestions that I liked. I'm going to leave it as it is now. I'm getting nervous thinking about it. But I know it will be a good expreience inshallah.

Bismillah...

Surprise Poem for a Friend's Wedding

2009-09-25T17:44:00.000-07:00

There is a field out beyond right and wrong, where wisdom resides.

I will meet you there. Perhaps a meadow, under which rivers flow,

Shaded by palms, fountains and stars. I will meet you there.

Where there is you, where there is me; where we need not be perfect, for perfection already exists.

Where there is you , where there is me, and it is worth it.

Where coolness cleanses our eyes,

Tranquility for our minds, peace in our hearts, serenity in our souls.

With the sturdiness of a rock;

The steadfastness of a mountain,

Patient in the dessert, holding on to the essence,

Searching for the One.

Searching for the One,

In each other’s eyes, through each other’s souls, the promise has been agreed.

May our embrace, and let our mercy,

Lead us to One.

Through mountains and meadows,

From great heights and shallow waters; tempestuous oceans and testing waves,

Serene sunsets, along autumnal hues, spring time blossom.

May you glide on wings of hope and fear, guided by your love, towards divine grace.

Let us not be entangled by days, by nights, by this world.

We have another space, we have another time.

I will meet you there.

I wrote this to read at one of the events of a very close friend's wedding. I've known her since secondary school, thats most of my life. Its a surprise, I really hope she likes it.

I've taken some bits from Rumi and Iqbal, and even some words from the Quran and hadith. Then I added some bits of my own. Some of it I had already written before and put in another friend's wedding card, but I thought it would still be ok to include it here. Now I'm scared that I have to read it out infront of about 60 people. No learning objective and no plenary, those listening can make of it what they will. Its kind of like my dua too. I hope the poem, and surprise, go down well.

Chilling with Mum

2009-09-14T07:31:00.000-07:00

Shaykh on TV: ...the following types of people will always have their dua accepted; a traveller, a father praying for his child, and a fasting person.

Me to mum: Lets send dad on a journey during ramadan and give him a list of things to pray for.

Hehe ;)

Ugly Exes and Randomness

2009-09-14T05:39:00.000-07:00

I was looking through some old photos the other day. Thats what I do a a lot of, look at photos. I came across a bunch from a friend's nikkah. She really was one of the most beautiful brides I've ever seen. Simple and elegant and absolutely stunning. Said friend has since divorced, and its been over a year. It was such a happy time, and looking over them made me feel sad and nostalgic, even though I hadnt known her for very long then. What really got me though was the sight of her then husband in the pictures, ugh. Looking at him just made me feel sick. What I woud like to do to him if I ever saw him. How he could single handedly cause someone so much pain and grief. I actually felt physically ill. Its like when you see something disgusting on one of those medical dramas, you can't bear to look at it, but at the same time you can't not look at it. I would't mind pushing him infront of a bus, or off a cliff. And he's so ugly. I hate saying people are unattractive or whatever cos I think its wrong, but his actions have made him something detestable. Put chewing gum in his horrible hair, or cause him some sort of pain. Ok I'm not that violent, really, but he just made me ill. I feel ill thinking about it now. Its like his ugliness has seeped though his innards to his exterior. I also feel horrible thinking of it and saying it and writing it but uuuggghhhhh he makes me ill. She's so much better than him and worth so much more. And I'm not just saying that cos she's my friend, we hardly even see each other anymore but that doesn't mean you stop praying for someone. But its true.

And another friend and her new shiny husband (mashallah - love these guys) came over for iftar last night. Was so nice and civilied and grown up. Not that we are not civilised, we are, very. But the grown up part, dinner parties n all that...that's what grown ups do. Which reminds me, I want to make salmon n noodles for friends after Eid....sooo good...but may have to wait a while cos of another friend's wedding. I'm quite sad that ramadan has come and is going, so fast. It always does doesn't it, starts off a bit slow, and then rushes by you, and you're left thinking, what happened to all the things I was meant to do, and the all the things I was meant to change and improve. What happened to the good intentions and resolutions, and the beat and the rythm, and the heart and the pace, as the moon rises for the night, the sun sets on another day. Clocks keep ticking, alarms keep ringing, doors open and slamming, but what about us? Are we still the same?

A sweet dream, or a beautiful nightmare?

2009-09-07T05:54:00.001-07:00

So like, what’s the dealio with dreams after fajr? Is it that they mean nothing, or have been inspired by something within us rather than something higher? Or maybe even something lower?

My dreams are always very clear, almost like watching a film, or a short clip. Vivid in visuals and sentiment. I often awake with a strong sense of whatever I was feeling and experiencing during slumber, which often overrides into waking hours and sometimes even tends to punctuate my day. On awaking, but sometimes a while afterwards as well, I can clearly remember what happened – the plot, who was in it – the characters, their actions and motivations, themes, ideas and emotions, as well as colours, sights, sounds and any physical sensation. Ok so its sounding a bit like a GCSE mark scheme (not the physical sensation bit), but I can even dream in different languages. Ok, English and Spanish.

I don’t often know the meanings of dreams, but I know that they meant something, or were about something in particular. A beautiful thing is dreaming of someone you love who has passed away, seeing them dressed in white and happy. That’s when you know dreams are made of something special, something not from this world.

I’ve dreamt of you many times. Anoche soni de ti. Ya lo se que todo se ha terminado, pero todavia, a veces, estas conmigo. It’s not like I was trying either way, pero voy a decir las cosas como son. So we were on Green St, of all places! You weren’t fasting and eating a sliced tomato, y estabamos hablando y charlando como normal, como antes. Hemos quedado desde hace mucho tiempo, and you convinced me quedar otra vez. Ademas, deje mis amigas por ti. Anyways, fuimos a un sitio para romper el ayuno, y querias mirar en una tienda, y probar una chaqueta azul. You were your old lovable self with me, bailando y hacienda algunas tonterias y bromas. And suddenly, diste una vuelta en la chaqueta, y me besaste por la cara. Un beso muy dulce. Y me despierto. Y el sueno se ha terminado. No lo se si todavia me quieres. Pense que no te quiero, pero la verdad es que no estoy seguro seguro. Quizas siempre te querre, quizas siempre tendras un trocito de mi Corazon. O puedo ser, que dreams after fajr mean nothing. Quien puede decir, entre nosotros, que es el amor, o que son los suenos?

2009-09-06T08:05:00.001-07:00

There’s hidden sweetness in the stomach’s emptiness.

We are lutes, no more, no less.

When you’re full of food and drink, Satan sits

where your spirit should,

an ugly metal statue in place of the Kaaba.

If the brain and belly are burning clean with fasting...,

every moment a new song comes out of the fire.

The fog clears, and new energy makes you

run up the steps in front of you.

Be emptier and cry like reed instruments cry.

Emptier, write secrets with the reed pen.

Rumi

How Blissful is Ignorance?

2009-09-05T14:44:00.000-07:00

Ignorance is bliss, I’ve always thought. Yet my practices in life seem to demonstrate the opposite. I love to know stuff, and find out, and I love learning and trying new things. However, I also love doing this to my detriment it seems. I must be some sort of sadomasochist who likes pain or something. Forget facebook, its face stalk. I’ve lost count of the number of times, I’ve clicked a few times here and there, and there it is, information that maybe I wanted to know, perhaps needed to know, but really doesn’t make me feel any better. In fact, it makes me feel pretty crap. Therefore, ignorance is bliss. But then, if you know stuff, you’ll be better prepared for when the truth comes out anyways? But then, if you know stuff, you can’t come clean and say you know can you, cos you’re not meant to know in the first place, and then answering the question of how did you find out…that’s another story. I probably come across as bit of a psycho, but then most women are. Nay, most humans. And I'm not half as bad as some people, fact. I hope. I'm just being honest here, everyone hides their psycho side till its too late.

So I’ve found out lots of things I’m not supposed to. I’m naturally quite perceptive, and my own instinct and inclination play a large part in the way I interact. I’m no psychic or anything, but gut feelings are more often than not correct. And top of everything else I have communication issues, and I’m a very private person. I hate people lying to me, especially when I know something is going on. Do not insult my intelligence. Just be honest. Say yeah there is stuff, but I’m sorry I can’t tell you. Fair enough. Don’t cover it up with some stupid story that I can see right through.

Anyways, some random things I have found out, some small and insignificant, some quite big: who is going out with whom, who is friends with whom and what they are up to. The places people go and things they have done, the ex and the ex of the ex, what the ex is doing and who with and his whereabouts and friends and relationships. How close people really are and what they portray themselves to be. The potentials, and the potential’s potentials (yep!), and what the potential is up to and who with and their comments on other’s notes which leads to their blog which you’re not supposed to read yet…yep stalker extraordinaire. I need to stop, I wonder if I can. And its not just the internet, although it plays a large part.

So how blissful is ignorance? And does knowledge get you into too much trouble? Cos islamically, if you know something, you’re meant to pass it on, and act on it. (And consider one person for marriage at a time, right? Ok different point, and marriage is a bit far off right now) I’m my worst enemy.

And is exclusivity too much to ask? Ok this is a different topic, but when you’re getting to know someone, is it reasonable that you are the only person they are getting to know? Say you found out, that you weren’t the only person they were emailing, and my emailing I mean long, deep and meaningful emails about stuff you may not have even articulated before. Hmmmm…now say you haven’t made your mind up yet about the potential, you’re ok with meeting up and going out and stuff, but you want to be the only one he is seeing, right? The same way he is he only one you’re seeing? Other offers were coming up, and I brushed them off cos I wasn’t sure if ‘talking’ to two people at a time is ok? Ok, I’m not sleeping with them, just talking and getting to know them, but the end objective is in mind. And as the world keeps reminding me, I should be married, or getting married by now, but that’s for another post. It’s not like this guy is the rebound, it’s too late for that I think, and I have met loads of other guys since, but this is the first one I’m getting to know properly. (I also think I need another note on c-to-the-l.o- 4 sure, uh oh uh oh!!) Even though it is just over email. And what are emails after all? Are they that meaningful? I guess I can just see how it goes. But I know that he’s juggling potentials, but he doesn’t know that I know, see the problem? So, ignorance; bliss or burden?

Blessings!

2009-09-02T08:58:00.000-07:00

I just realized that the title of this blog, The Orange Tree, sounds like the name of a pub. Actually I think there is a pub with the name in Finchley. Ah well.

This was on a friend’s facebook post and I had to copy. We are tested in so many ways. Sometimes, when things are good, or life isn’t too bad, we forget we are being tested. We forget our blessings and who we have been blessed by. As the one whose all sins were forgiven - the Prophet, peace be upon him, said, ‘Should I not be a grateful servant?’

The aim of the game – write down one thing for each letter, with a small explanation if you want. Try it out.

A. Always Ultra – this sounds dumb, but we can afford the little things that let us get on with life as normal. Imagine if you were in a war torn country, and supplies ran out. Doesn’t bare thinking about really.

B. Beauty – it’s a harsh world, but its there. And lots of it. Open your eyes to receive many gifts. And Beyonce – good times!

C. Chocolate – need I say more? And contact lenses. My glasses annoy me.

D. Driving – I love my car. And Dancing. Its all about shaking what ya mama gave ya aaiiight!

E. Everything? Ok how about Eyes. Big ones, pretty ones, deep ones, ones to stare into, ones to see with. Oh and Education.

F. Food! – I’m a foody. Also half the world doesn’t have enough and we have too much. And it’s Ramadan, so you know what I’m talking about. And family. And friends.

G. Ghana – all expenses paid, yeah that’s what I’m talking about!

H. Halal marshmallows. Yeah baby!

I. Ice cream – see how most of mine are to do with food? And Ice in coke with lemon on a hot day.

J. Jumpers – when its cold we’re snug and warm. Hoodies also falls into the ‘jumpers’ category. And my Job – really hard work but I am grateful for it.

K. Kenya – so beautiful and although some people can be annoying I’m glad I’m from there, east African Asian is the best kind of Asian!

L. Love – there’s not a lot of it around, but some people don’t have any. Parents, siblings, family, friends, your partner, your deen, the Prophet Muhammad pbuh, Allah. Love it.

M. Money – some people have none. And mobiles – can anyone remember life before them?

N. Nandos!!

O. Orange trees

P. Parents. Don’t know what I did to deserve such great people in my life.

Q. Queues in this country. Ok so I’m inherently British, but in a mob I’m always scared I’ll get pushed to the back…I’m not a pushy person

R. Riaz. I love my brother the most!

S. Silly-ness. Why so serious all the time?

T. My driving instructor T. I wouldn’t have passed without him, and he also became a good therapist for that time! And travelling.

U. The umbrella song – no I don’t like it that much but it provides for a karaoke classic as my girlies will tell you

V. Vitamins…vitality…the letter V..did you know it doesn’t exist in Arabic?

W. www – what would we do without the internet? Go to the library maybe. Has made life lazy but easy 

X. xxx – kisses. Mwah!

Y. my Yellow cardigan , a piece of sunshine in my wardrobe. And YumYums, one of my favourite restaurants with some great memories

Z. Zzzzz…yep its sweet dreams in my lovely bed. Night.

Hunger.

2009-09-01T05:10:00.000-07:00

This was written by a friend, and i thought it was so spot on I had to share. She's managed to articulate what I've been thinking and feeling. Enjoy.

It is Ramadhan.
I'm not the sort who really talks about these kinds of things. Religious things, matters of belief. Not in any kind of concrete way, in any case. I don't really discuss my belief in a deity, my visions of heaven and/or hell, or even whether I believe in them. I'm not really that way inclined. I don't hide it - as soon as you look at me it's fairly obvious what faith I follow. But I don't talk about the nitty-gritty. For me, it's very personal. I don't like to make an issue of my beliefs, I don't want you to feel as though I'm attacking yours and I certainly don't believe in trying to 'convert'.
So it's unusual for me to write something like this.
During Ramadhan, Muslims aren't supposed to eat or drink between the hours of sunrise and sunset. Or at least, that's the general perception. Now, the reasons are many. Partly, it's to experience the hunger and thirst that many people feel every day. Partly, it's to increase will-power. And, partly, it is mental to be a symbol of self-sacrifice, our attempt at asceticism. For a month you forget your carnal pleasures (for what is more carnal than food?) and you pursue 'higher' experiences. One is encouraged to aim for spiritual perfection, and, with it, nearness to God. How you attain it is, of course, highly personal. Some pray. Some read. Some meditate. The paths to spirituality are many; the goal, however, is singular.
Or so we like to think. For I believe, as I have for many years, that we have lost sight of the goal. The goal now is a dinner which will provide all the calories you've denied yourself throughout the day. The fast? A means to an end. An excuse to gorge, to be seduced by plates piled high with sweet, fattening delights.
I'm a firm believer in abstinence during Ramadhan. I'm not some kind of joyless Puritan, but I do believe that if you wish to cleanse your mind, or your spirit, you must first cleanse your physical being. For many thousands of years people have denied themselves that which they crave in order to attain a higher state of being. Separation from worldly desires allows one to experience altered perceptions.

Every year, I hope to gain something from the fasting. The hunger isn't important to me; I can deal with the thirst. But I don't want to do it for a month and feel nothing change inside me. I'm not one for religious dogma; to me the essence is deeper than that.
But.

It's quite common to be invited for dinner during Ramadhan. My first (and so far only) invitation was last weekend. It was a big thing - there must have been some eighty people there. So, after the requisite prayers, we ate. It's a vision I've seen many times and I hope to never see again.

There's something about being hungry that makes you grab every edible thing in sight. I understand that. I suffer from ‘eyes bigger than mouth’ syndrome. But, come Ramadhan, I try to stop it. I change my eating habits. There is something decidedly unhealthy about starving yourself all day and then devouring a mountain of deep-fried goods. It’s something I refrain from. I believe it’s more than one’s digestive system can deal with. It’s easy for me because I actually don’t like eating fried food. I accept that it is difficult for other people to abstain. My equivalent to fried food is probably something cake-ish.

So for me, an average meal in Ramadhan will consist of tea, fruit and a small plate of something substantial. I aim to subsist on as little as I possibly can, not in an attempt, to shed weight (decidedly NOT the point of the fasting) but in an effort to retrain my body, to teach it, and myself, that a life of excess and instant gratification is not the reason we exist. But, of course, we live lives of instant gratification. ‘I want’ regularly leads to ‘I get’. And we have no sense of the privilege of that situation. If I want calorific chocolate cake I can have it delivered to me in twenty minutes. I don’t need to work for it; I don’t need to earn it. I demand, and my demand is honoured.

Back at dinner, I saw what appeared to be a mob diving for food. Pastries, cutlets, spring rolls, chicken, lamb, bread, rice. No queues, no one waving someone ahead of them. Just people scrambling to the front. And not just for something to take the edge off the hunger pangs.

I imagine it’s been exacerbated by my recent trip, but I could hardly bear the sight of such privileged, comfortable people diving for spring rolls. I don’t understand how one can remain hungry for sixteen hours, perhaps more, and then lose all self-control the moment they see something edible. How can you lose your restraint like that? I caught myself thinking, as I have before, about our animalistic traits. Manners fly out of the window. We eat as though we will never eat again, as though we need to shove as much inside ourselves as we possibly can to survive the next day.

But in this we lose sight of one of the reasons for the fast – to remember those who don’t have food. Many people, prior to Ramadhan, will donate money to provide food for those who would otherwise go hungry. It’s an admirable thing to do, though I wonder who feeds those people during the other eleven months of the year. But feeding a hungry person isn’t enough. It doesn’t give you a license to forget about them and seek to satisfy only your own physical self.

And fasting isn’t about being hungry. Not really. It’s about learning to appreciate those things we take for granted. It’s not about going out for an expensive dinner and then walking past the hungry, cold homeless person sitting in the next doorway. It’s about self-sacrifice, it’s about empathy with other people, it’s about becoming more humane.

But we’ve forgotten all that. And we are the losers. We’ve forgotten that if you wish to attain spiritual enlightenment you need to do a bit more than skip breakfast and lunch.

God help us.

(By M.R)

Ramadan Nights

2009-09-01T05:06:00.000-07:00

Is it me or is there something special about nights during Ramadan? Its just different. You can almost feel it in the air; something happens to the atmosphere and the all the molecules and particles and bits and pieces have a certain buzz to them - or a certain serenity.

Or am I taking hope to the next level?!

Its like peace has descended, tranquility is here, and calm is in charge. Although not the kind of in charge that yells and bosses you around, but the kind that reminds you, gently, of what you are wasting and the potential you have.

When people drive by noisily, imposing their choice of music upon you, or making lots of rude noise, I uncharacteristically feel like telling them to shush; you're disturbing the peace!

Surround yourself with coolness and sakeenah, let yourself be enveloped, encapsulated, embraced by the infinite mercy.

If only we really knew.

Soften your heart,
Open your mind,
Release your soul.

Ameen.

2009-08-30T05:42:00.001-07:00

and check out these amazing pics of Ramadan across the globe: http://www.boston.com/bigpicture/2009/08/ramadan_2009.html

My First Post

2009-08-30T05:25:00.000-07:00

So I’ve finally decided to start wiring a blog. About 10 years too late, but then its never too late is it? Don’t even know if I will keep it up. And why an orange Tree? Becuase I love orange trees. They are a sight for sore eyes. So simple yet so beautiful. And they remind me of Spain of course. From the courtyard of the Mezquita Catedral in Cordoba, to lining the streets all over the peninsula.

Some possible titles that I could have written about over the past few years had I not been so lazy: All the places I have been to, The Weddings (not mine), The Russian, The Swiss Sri Lankan, The Tall Solicitor, The Short Solicitor, Crocodile Shoes, 8th of the 8th, The Imam, etc etc etc. Maybe they’ll pop up here and there. Or many be I should leave the past in the past. But thats what forms us as indivuduals and characters isn’t it.

Words and sentences form in my head like concertinas and springs, and its finally time to write them down. I dont care if nobody reads this. Actually, it would be nice if some random strangers fell upon it in cyberspace. But I’m not writing for them. I’m writing for me. There’s too much bottled up and somethings got to let out.

So what should I make my first post about? Marshmallows. I love marshmallows. And bless Asda for stocking halal ones. I even had some for sehri today, hehe. Soft and fluffy and sweet and satisfying. In Spanish they are called nubes (pronounced noo-bes) which translates directly as clouds. How perfect is that. Sweet clouds. Sometimes the best part of a flight is ascending through the clouds and being directly above them. I imagine it to be like a bouncy castle but with the texture of expensive cotton wool. Some friends and I were once talking about having a marshmallow ceremony (ok so mainly it was me talking and coming up with crazy ideas and them humouring me). Like a Japanese tea ceremony, but with marshmallows. And we’d all wear pastel colours, but our goth friend can wear black/brown, cos toasted marshmallows are really good too. If I ever get to jannah, inshallah, marshmallows will have a big part to play there :-)

9th fast today. Ramadan Kareem to you all.