Sunday, December 30, 2007

Tribute to Benazir...


I never supported her or her party but in some sense I always supported her for being a brave woman. Some say she was stupid and not brave to have gone back to Pakistan. I recall saying something to that effect as well and maybe after today's incidents, that statement might ring true to some but I can tell you that after today, I have started respecting the woman. For whatever reason she came to Pakistan, she did not have to, she came to support some, to lead some and she came knowing her life was in danger. I respect her because I have a long way to go before I can call myself even a speck of that show of bravery.

In 2003, I met the lady at the Pasadena Civic Auditorium. I secretly got into the VIP room to stand in line and shake hands with her despite the fact that my family and my relatives mostly did not like her political party or her or what they had done in the past. I stood there because I wanted to be around such a "brave" person. I clearly remember saying that and I did shake her hand and my heart did pound. She was strong as a rock, daring as a cheetah and her eyes seemed to pierce right through you. I was scared or maybe I was in awe.

Today, Benazir, by the horrid way your life had to end, I wish you peace in eternity and I wish your family and friends, especially your children and your husband, the patience and strength to bear this loss.

I wish my beloved country to somehow become peaceful and hopeful and I wish the perpetrators to see a just end.

Amen...

Inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi rajioon...

The Muslim holiday you wish us in "Happy Holidays"



Hey everyone

So there are two "Eid" celebrations, which literally means, happiness, in the Muslim calendar. The first one is after Ramadan, the single most well-known Muslim tradition that the world knows. The second one is after "Hajj" or pilgrimage which a lot of people outside America know pretty well. Actually, you probably have seen what it looks like...thousands of people draped in white sheets circumambulating the sacred black mosque, known as the Holy Ka'abah, in Mecca.

That is the mosque that Muslims pray towards five times a day. It used to be the holy mosque, Masjid Al-Aqsa, in Jerusalem but now we pray towards the Ka'abah.

The Ka'abah is the single most important monument for Muslims today. It is our identity, our soul and our resonance. It is where we become one.

I have been lucky to have visited the Ka'abah multiple times in my life and the impact I had upon seeing it the first time...I was seven.

A huge brick cube with huge black velvet drapes embroidered with arabic written in pure gold thread with a sea of people moving in unison as if bonded, connected tied together. There was fear in me. It was the closest symbol to Allah I had ever seen. Something physically representing divinity...since Muslims are not supposed to have idols or physical representations of God, it is sometimes challenging to focus one's concentration on praying to the Almighty...but the Ka'abah, makes it much easier, in my opinion. We are supposed to imagine the Ka'abah when we pray..this is why you probably see the Ka'abah on some praying mats.

Anyhow, Hajj is the once in a lifetime pilgrimage that every Muslim who can afford it by way of health and wealth is supposed to make. It is one of the five pillars of Islam, the other four being:

Tauhid or belief in the unity of God
Fasting
Prayer
Charity or zaka'at.

In terms of the exact exercise, I took some help from Wikipedia since I haven't done it myself...yet:

Each person would walk counter-clockwise seven times about the Kaaba, the cubical building towards which all Muslims pray, kiss the sacred Black Stone on its corner, run back and forth between the hills of Al-Safa and Al-Marwah, drink from the Zamzam Well, go to the plains of Mount Arafat to stand in vigil, then proceed to Muzdalifah to gather pebbles, which they would throw at a rock in Mina to perform the ritual of the Stoning of the Devil. The pilgrims would then shave their heads, perform an animal sacrifice, and celebrate the four day global festival of Eid ul-Adha.

The rest of the Muslims around the world celebrate the animal sacrifice with all their counterparts in Mecca. Hence, this is the infamous bloody "eid" where we sacrifice animals.

This was my favourite Eid back home as I would go with my father to pick our goats and then feed them and take care of them and yes, watch them get slaughtered. It is to resonate the feeling that Ibrahim (Abraham) felt when he put his son to sacrifice for God. It is hence encouraged to buy the animal a while before the day to get attached and hence justify the term "sacrifice". One goat per person or one cow per seven people is the usual. You are to offer sacrifice when you start earning. I believe it is beyond a specific amount of earning too.

I still haven't had my first Eid sacrifice animal through my own income and I haven't spent Eid with my family since 2000.

Eid Mubarak Mama, Daddy, Aishaji, Amni moti, Raiyaan, Neemu bhai and everyone else...eid mubarak!

Daniel Pearl...Asra Nomani


A couple of weeks back, Tim told me that we should go hear Asra Nomani, the lady who hosted Marianne and Danny in Karachi, at Caltech. She was doing a talk on "Women's struggle in Islam". Obviously I was super excited. Without having the time to read too much and having watched "A Mighty Heart" and havign a lot of respect for the lady, I showed up to the talk...might I add, one of the most relieving instances of religious dialogue I have had in a while.

A couple of months back it was Khuda Ke Liye that made me finally realize that it was ok to have that whole "questioning" struggle stage with religion and now Asra.

What tripped me out is that she has become more famous because of her stance of women's treatment in mosques and credited for her "Rosa Parks-style activism"...if you are wondering why that is trippy...please read my earlier post.

This woman spoke exactly my language and used my logic....it was "comforting" as she put it...to see others who think and reason and question like you...

Mosques are turning us away...


So ever since I came to this country, I tried to attend mosques on Friday prayers every week but that went down to just once a month which went down to just on the two Eids in the year.

Everytime I go to a mosque, I get frustrated by the focus on the details of the process rather than the process itself. Are you wearing nailpolish or not? Are you covering your jeans-covered butt with a dupatta or not? Are you making sure you lower your eyes infront of the men or not eventhough these same men might check you out right when you step out of the mosque or you might be frank pals with one of them who you sit together, hi-five and chat with outside this "pretending galore".

I know of a number of women, myself inclusive, who are scared to go to the mosque, not of Allah (which is what should be the only concern) but of other people's judgmental looks, comments and sighs. It is so fully unfair because these people are taking our right away to go and pray in congregation in a mosque, that is a PUBLIC house of Allah.

When I go to a mosque, I only want to think of God and pray to him. I don't go to socialize or check anyone out. The other day, I went to a mosque in Brooklyn which had a horribly enclosed praying area for "sisters". I was fully covered and standing behind the men in this area but I really wanted to see the congregation and the calligraphy on the walls. It made me feel more in the "zone". Whilst I offered some extra prayers, this oh-so-caring gentleman thought he would do a good deed by drawing the curtains and shunning me back into the lonely ugly four walled room. I said "I am fine." but either he ignored or he just did not hear. I steamed and drew the curtains again. But by this time, I was pissed off and scared that someone else would do the same thing again and I would blast them. Point: My whole focus shifted from praying to defending!

For what? Women don't have to be in a separate room BEHIND the men, CURTAINED off...they just have to be behind the men..either these men don't know this or they are more focused in sending me to heaven than themselves.

Super disgusted...I don't want to give up but I feel that mosques are turning Muslims away...why can't they focus on the prayer/worship aspect and be a little easier on process. I know of Muslim women who have gone to a church or mandir instead to appease the want of congregational prayer. They feel more accepted their rather than in their own Islamic halls of prayer..how sad...

I wish people would radically change their behavior and make Islam more "welcoming" like it should be rather than "strict, harsh and intolerant"...kind of like people who think if they lead boring strict lives and don't laugh, they are on an accelerated path to heaven...

Also, this "Islamic Cultural Center of NY" which is so well-advertised that it is on the tiny NYC maps alongside all the amazing museums of NY is nothing but a simple mosque. Now, whoever would read "cultural center" and whoever put this in NYC, that is recently even more sensitive to Islam and Muslims, should have used this opportunity to educate and present to people. I bet you a lot of tourists and interested parties go to this facility and are turned off by Muslims. Not well kept, no reading materials, historical facts or a display in this "cultural center". Oh please, just call it a mosque if you cannot live up to the fancy title. Don't raise people's expectations and then crush them...don't waste an opportunity of doing some extra good for your faith and for the people who follow your faith...

And yeah, mosques are not only made for MEN, they are made for MUSLIMS, which shockingly includes women as well!

Expectations...


You know what I just realized these past couple of months since I came back to LA. I realized that really, even the closest of the closest people I have known and whom I thought knew me inside and out, don't really know me...I say that because sometimes, when they are surprised by an accomplishment or achievement or disappointed by the lack of thereof, I wonder, didn't they already see that coming?

It made me scared, because it made me realize that I basically have to prove to them, prove to everyone what I can or cannot do because they don't really know what to expect...as they have shown it by their surprise or awe or sigh, recently.

I have realized that only I know what I am capable of and that is a hard one..because in order to materialize something which I know I can do, I have to be constantly positive and focused and strong and BELIEVE...that's the hard one because every now and then, when you lose a bit of faith, you look to people around you to restore that back into you but now that I already know that a lot of these people don't really know what to expect from me anyway, any of their consolation becomes hard to fully trust and accept.

Wow, I guess I am on my own...maybe because I didn't communicate well enough to anyone to help out in the storms...so that when the tank up there goes blank and confused, someone else can say, "Iram, right here..." But I don't think that's it, I am beginning to realize, no matter how well-informed you keep everyone around you, their understanding of you depends on them more than you. People who care to know me, know me in a first blink and others, don't know me in a decade.

It is scary to know that you can only depend on yourself...somewhat strengthening and somewhat jolting...

How do you Manage all the People you know...


I know way too many people to justify being or calling them my friends. I simply have no time of day to meet up, say hi or even just shake hands with the amount of people I would like to do that with...frustrating because life is slipping by and I can see it going on this way till a lot of people I would not like to fall off to the sidelines...will indeed fall off to the sidelines...any tips anyone?

Creativity and LA...


I find it funny how as soon as we land into the "land of Hollywood" our minds' juices freeze! Haha..hopefully more will be coming as I lure the creative turtle out of its shell...

Mehndi aka Henna Tattooes...


Yes, I get annoyed at the commercial reference or creation of the phrase "henna tattoo"...henna is also known as mehndi and I prefer calling it mehndi but too late, it is all over the west as "henna tattooes"...there is one stall on the Santa Monica pier where they just put ink on wooden blocks with etched designs and sell it for $5 or $10 or $15...sigh...

Applying "mehndi" is a "sunnah" where sunnah means the sayings or doings of the Prophet Muhammad (PBUH). He used to apply this plant dye to cool his head or to his palms or feet for soothing himself. This plant dye or "henna" was basically the leaves of the henna plant, dried, crushed and made into a henna paste and then applied. The paste would then leave its colour once it dried crisp on the applied surface. Then it would be scraped and some sort of oil would be rubbed on the surface to keep the darkening effect of the colour stronger.

Usually the colour lasts two weeks if the mehndi is of good quality. Nowadays though, people are impatient and want to put the dye on for a short time and get the best colour and so a lot of chemicals are added to the paste to make it literally black in colour once washed.

Mehndi is applied on happy occasions, for instance, weddings, eid and parties. Girls apply patterns traditionally on their palms and on their feet. Brides apply it all the way from their palms to the elbows and from their feet to their shins. In some Muslim cultures, even the males apply it on their hands but in solid patterns, like taking a bit of the paste and splattering it all over one's hand.

Some old people also use mehndi as a natural hair dye and that explains those strangely reddish orange beards in the muslim world.

"Mehndi" is also the name given to a ceremony during weddings in Pakistan that signifies a singing and dancing event where the bride is usually supposed to be decorated with mehndi (though in most cases, she gets that done at a beauty parlour the night before her wedding!). Sometimes it is done for the man and for the woman separately and sometimes the "mehndi" event is held for both together. It is the most fun night of the entire mehndi with lavish flower decorations and singing competitions and dance performances and the "aunties" applying symbolic mehndi on a leaf placed on the bride and/or bridegroom's hands.

Eid is in a week and I am looking forward to applying mehndi on my mother and sister's hands and of course all over myself as well. My favorite thing is to get a nice, thick, deep-coloured arm band on my right arm!

But yes, it curbs my desire to get a permanent tattoo because I like this deep brown colour more than the traditional tattoo colour and also because it is temprorary and so if I don't like it after a while, I don't have to worry about getting it removed or when I am old, I won't worry about my tattoo sagging with the rest of my skin! Also, mama would absolutely not talk to me if I get one!!! Apparently the whole piercing and deforming one's body is very un-Islamic.

Indian doesn't mean Hindu and Pakistani doesn't mean Muslim...


For the LAST time, I am clarifying this horribly wrong assumption that is made by both sides. Whenever, in a film or just on the street, someone wants to tease an Indian Muslim about loyalty..they will call him a "Pakistani"..as if it is a swear/curse word.

Similarly, in my country, whenever someone will want to say, he is hindu..they will unknowingly use the word, "he is Indian"...I mean, how horrible I feel for Indian Muslims who are neither on this nor on that side..when people like the Pakistani cricket captain makes an India-Pak cricket match sound like a Hindu-Muslim war by saying, "This is my message to wherever the muslim is.."..what the hell? How offensive for a Muslim like Irfan or Yusuf Pathan in the Indian team..are they not Muslims? What's with the elitism that Muslims only reside in Pakistan or that shalwar kameez is the only "muslim attire".

Bull shit.

Similary at the Wahgah border, I was outraged when this uneducated cheerleader chanted, "show the non-Muslims you are Muslims"..again blurring the lines between nationality and religion. He wanted us to chant religious slogans rather than Pakistani slogans like they were one and the same thing...I realize this country was made in the name of Islam but today there are non-Muslims who reside here and more than that, there are Christians, Jews, Parsis, Sikhs, Muslims AND then Hindus living across the border so how can we say that everyone on the other side of the gate is a "non-Muslim"...again, blurring the lines between and Indian and a Hindu.

I realize that the majority on either side is Muslim and Hindu but people, pleaaaaaaaaaase...be sensitive...separate religion from culture and nation...life would be a lot more clearer, peaceful and ACCURATE!

Kind of how I get pissed when people say, "You are not Punjabi..you are Muslim." Gosh! You need a refresher course in the difference between one's divine choice and one's geographical location! How hard is that exactly? Seems pretty straightforward to me!

Harry Potter...and mama. Disclaimer: Spoiler for last HP book.

I said to mama, "Harry had kids and all and I was upset to know about the future. He was old."

And she said, "And what about Potter?"

haha, how cute...

How to Bury a Muslim...


The other day, Daddy's aunt passed away in Peshawar and so on September 11th, we headed to Peshawar...the place one would least want to be in on September 11th!

Muslim women are not to head to the graveyard for the burial and so I asked Daddy how the burial was done. Trying to explain it as best as I can:

Firstly, when a Muslim dies, he is to be buried as soon as possible as Islam considers the process of balming and preservation as a discomfort to the body. Respect for the dead is of utmost importance. Hence, preparations for a funeral are to be done asap. Which is why Dodi Al-fayed was buried within hours whereas Diana's funeral was stretched till a week or so after her death or why Saddam was buried the next morning whereas President Ford's burial carried on into 2007. Anyhow, the immediate burial is what is prescribed.

The body is washed by family and relatives in a manner similar to the Muslim way of ablution. Women are washed by women and men by men. Washing the deceased is considered to bear a great reward.

The body is then wrapped in unsewn pieces of white cloth called "kafan" in Urdu - the shroud. The pieces are tied together.

The head is kept uncovered during the hours before the funeral whilst the body is sprayed with rose petal water to curb the smell of the deceased. The body is surrounded by the grieving who utter the "Kalima" loud and clear:

"There is no god but Allah and Prophet Muhammad was his last messenger."

That is what makes a Muslim aka this is what someone has to believe in and recite if one wants to convert to Islam and this is what one is to recite before breathing his last, if death is coming naturally and he can foresee it. In fact, some people say that one should recite it every night before going to bed. I am scared and I don't because then I feel that I might not wake up the next day!

Anyway, extreme grieving is discouraged in Islam as one is to believe that Allah has taken back what belonged to him in the first place and that the soul is up with Him. In fact, it is said that one should not mourn more than three days, after which, one should go about his usual life. This is another reason why the immediate burial is prescribed.

Once the men come to take the body for the graveyard, the head is covered and the shroud is tied above the head. This is usually the most sentimental time as the women are saying a final goodbye to the bodily cavity that held their loved ones. Chants of "see her for the last time", "she is leaving us forever" go up in the air, despite being discouraged, to an unleashed mourning body. Cries, screams, shouts, sobs.

The men then take the body to the mosque or the graveyard, where the funeral prayers are offered. They are similar to the five daily prayers. After that, the body is lowered into a 6 ft dug out grave that is tiered such that the first cavity at the very bottom is narrower than the second, higher tier. The body tightly fits in the lowest cavity after which a higher step, much wider, around 4 ft higher than the body is used as a balance for slabs to cover the body below. Stone slabs are used - the more natural substances, the better.

After the slabs are put, the body is fully covered when viewed from the top and there is still 2ft of depth left. This depth is filled by throwing loose sand over the grave. The children and close ones of the deceased take fistfuls and cover the departed and in the end the graveyard worker shovels the sand fully to make a neat mound.

Oh, this is interesting - once the body is placed in the cavity. The head of the deceased is turned towards Mecca! It is thought that after burial, Gabriel visits the dead and interviews him. There are also common rumours, that a window to one's right opens up and shows a preview of heaven and one on one's left opens up and previews hell. However, the final decision and "judgment" is to be made on the final Day of Judgment by Him.

Hence, most Muslim graveyards are orthogonal to the direction of Mecca which means the bodies are laid orthogonal to the direction so that the head can be turned towards the Holy Mosque. I never knew that!

As said in an earlier note, the graves are usually left uncemented and natural with soil. At most the sides are covered with marble stone. The top is usually left uncovered.

I am particularly terrified of being buried but when I heard what Zoroastrians/Parsis do, I was grateful for what we do to ourselves. They leave the body on a tower to be eaten by vultures. Their logic is that we don't want anything to be a waste and want to keep life going on aka feeding the scavengers. I thought, burying is not a waste. It provides fertilizer if done in the proper prescribed way where the body is decomposed.

Ideally I would like to be cremated but that is not allowed in Islam. God knows what would happen down there. I would be satisfied if I were burnt (even if it hurt a lot then..who knows?!) but then I would just be ash and no insect or vulture could tear my flesh away, slowly and in bits.

Mama says that Muslims are allowed coffins if they want. So my plan is an air tight, super nice one to keep the insects away...atleast for some time?

Shah Rukh Khan and Gandhi...


Yesterday, two people really close to me said at different times:

"Gandhi was a cheat!"

"How can Shah Rukh fast? He is married to a Hindu?"

I am super annoyed and agitated at these comments. Basic assumptions on no historical or religious knowledge but founded by the social and cultural norms and views. I made my arguments against both but at the end of the day realized, that we need a LOT of patience to exist in this world and more so to co-exist with people of differing opinions.

It is really scary to know how vehemently people believe in their set of beliefs, sometimes, totally orthogonal to others' beliefs. One can see why it is easy to stir the masses against each other by politicians, religious scholars and all others in whose interest it is to make the masses clash with each other.

To President Bush...



I would like to bring to your attention a little passage from Sunzi on the "Art of War":

"To win battles and seize land and cities and yet fail to consolidate these achievements is fraught with dangers as it means a drain on your resources. Therefore it is said that a wise sovereign makes careful deliberations before launching a war and a good commander handles it with care. Do not go into battle if it is not in the interest of the state. Do not deploy the troops if you are not sure of victory.

Do not send them into battle if you are not in danger. The sovereign should not start a war simply out of anger; the commander or general should not fight a battle simply because he is resentful.

Take action only if it is to your advantage. Otherwise, do not. For an enraged man may regain his composure and a resentful person his happiness, but a state which has perished cannot be restored, nor can the dead be brought back to life. "

Ramadan is...



...here!

It is the Holy month of fasting in the Muslim calendar. Abstinence from food, drink and sex from sunrise to sunset are the obvious to do. However, abstinence from lying, anger, cheating and all "bad" traits is to be observed.

Contrary to what you would expect, Muslims pray for this month to come and are delighted when it does. There is no, "oh no! here it comes again" but some very positive "Ramadan Mubarak/Ramadan Kareem" in the air. It is almost as if ignoring all the hardship of the fast so much so that even kids start getting excited and focus on the positives...aka the month of blessings.

People who don't eat halal all year strive to eat halal during the month of Ramadan.

People who don't pray five times a day, strive to, during Ramadan. Men try and pray in congregation as much as they can. They also offer the "Tarawih", a special prayer after the last Muslim prayer, Isha, every night when the Quran is recited....the whole Quran is completed during the Tarawih prayers during Ramadan.

So Muslims wake up before the first prayer of the day, Fajr, and eat "Sehri" which is a big meal before their fast starts. The fast starts with the Fajr or sunrise prayer and ends with the 4th prayer of the day or Maghrib/sunset prayer.

A lot of my friends are shocked to know that we don't drink water either, contrary to the Jewish or Christian fast. We don't ingest ANYTHING during the prescribed hours. And then, after sunset you can eat like a dog till sunrise and in fact are instructed to eat before you fast...some people keep a fast without waking up at sunrise as it is hard for them...however, that is not encouraged at all and rather looked down upon by scholars as well as doctors, I am sure!

One is also to give Zaka'at or charity (2.5% of one's wealth) during the month of Ramadan. Zaka'at is one of the five pillars of Islam including Fasting. They are:

(1) Believing in the Oneness of God.
(2) Fasting
(3) Zaka'at or charity
(4) Prayers, five times a day
(5) Hajj or the once in a lifetime pilgrimage to Makkah or as is commonly spelled, Mecca.

One is to pray a lot during this month as it is believed that God is super forgiving and generous in terms of bestowing his followers with benefits and goodies.

One would like to think that Muslims are especially careful and peaceful in this month, yet there have been numerous Shia Sunni clashes and bombings in the past in Muslim nations and numerous have died in the face of terrorism.

The 1993 Mumbai bomb blasts, proven to have been masterminded by Muslim gangsters, were also carried out during the month of Ramadan.

In 2005, after the devastating earthquake in Pakistan, people had started looting the homes of the dead and there was wide spread theft and frenzy.

However, I must admit that one does feel pure and peaceful and it is really not hard. The act of fasting for me, is so disciplinary and soul-searching that I have fasted non stop since the age of 12.

If you are pregnant or sick or old or bleeding (for instance, menstruation), you are commanded not to fast. However in the case of menstruation, women are asked to fast later to redeem their lost fasts...(I do think that is a bit unfair since it is so much easier to fast when everyone else is fasting!)

Anyhow, families get closer as they eat in the morning during Sehr and then in the evening during the breaking of the fast or "Iftar". In Pakistan, iftar parties are really common where one family invites another family to break their fast with them. There is a big reward for helping a fasting person break his fast...to provide food for them.

Some common dishes that suddenly appear during Ramadan are:

Fruit Chaat: A fruit salad with a great blend of spices and orange juice. My absolute favorite and I will be making some in a few hours.

Dahi bhade: Fritters made out of chickpea flour submerged in a spiced up plain yogurt and topped with tamarind sauce.

Pakoras: Just the fritters made out of chickpea flour. Sometimes they are potato fritters or other veggies are inserted.

These are famous snacks.

Also, Muslims break their fast symbolically with dates since the Holy Prophet (PBUH) is said to have done so himself.

What else...I am fasting and talking about food...so I think I should stop..it is my first fast and is a bit hard. :o(

Either way, just wanted to answer some common questions I have faced throughout my stay in the West regarding a Muslim fast by non-Muslims.

Prejudices...


I love it how people talk in taboos in this society. All hidden and covered. They won't admit the prejudices but they are there, thick and solid in this society. "Oh, she came home at 10pm? Was she alone? Oh ok, her brother dropped her." "Oh, it must be a love marriage, they were both studying in Manchester." "Oh,so you have finished your masters?" aka now we can shop you around for marriage?!

DISCLAIMER: Most of these don't apply to the shielded "goldfish bowl" upper class in Pakistan.

- Brides are told not to laugh too much on their wedding day. They should be scared, freaked out...of what? Of their deflowering, their wedding night. Aka, think a bit more and what they really mean is, if she is so at ease, then she has probably slept with her man or even worse, another man before because the only thought in her mind on her lovely wedding day should be the fear and pain of a first time penetration that is about to happen.
I know people myself where the in-laws have asked the girls not to laugh at their own wedding!

- Fair equals beautiful..these adjectives are sometimes interchanged. Even lyrics of songs etc will interchange a beautiful girl with "gori" or "oh fair one". So no matter how hot Naomi Campbell or Bipasha Basu are, my parents' generation and for that matter, some boys in my own generation do not see the attraction at all. Soooooo irritating, cuz that means, no matter how good someone else thinks I look, NO ONE in Pakistan will compliment me..if I look good, they will try to figure out why I am lookng good because I am obviously not pretty since I am not fair! I am not fishing for compliments here..just telling you how it is.

- Compliments..people don't compliment you even if you look dazzling. Or if they do, it is a return compliment or a seeking compliment.

- If you wear a hijab, you are pious. If you wear jeans, you are a slut. If you wear a tight-fitted oozing shalwar kameez, it is all right. If you wear a loose fitted top covering your ass on jeans, ummm..can you please change?

- Kids aren't allowed to mix with the opposite sexes all their lives, guys are never at home so won't go with their families to meet other families, only girls accompany their parents..even if there is a party, the men and women usually sit segregated or slowly segregate on their own...now all of a sudden, when they are to get married..what to do? And hence, now start the arranged marriage rounds...the boys are forced to see the girls and the girls are made to follow their moms around everywhere so that they are "marketed". They are asked to work on their complexion and weight..the two important keys to a man's heart in Pakistan..and obviously cooking as well....cuz the world over, the way to a man's heart is through his stomach.

- Even in this day and age, the middle class, and I am sure the lower class, can marry by just looking at pictures. I know people who are doing this. The girl and guy have never met, nor talked. They are just fully satisfied because obviously, their parents can't think bad for them.

- Certain people don't let the couple mingle too much after their engagement because that is condoning a cause for intimacy...hence, a couplemight cause more barriers if they announce their relationship because once it is public..they cannot really meet each other in private unless a third person is there. Basically, parents are scared that they will consider it fine to sleep with each other since they are about to be married so the guarding process after an engagement is even tighter and stricter.

- It is funny how most of these points are pointing towards sex..the biggest taboo in Pakistani society. Women cover their pregnant stomachs from shame...cuz that is a certificate that they have done it! How ironic, because in the West, people sell T-Shirts pointing to the belly..they are proud and not ashamed.

- If it is a love marriage God forbid, it is horrid...to the extent that mothers will hide it, "Oh yes, they were in the same school...BUT he was two years senior to her." Translation: They never met, hence they never dated, hence my daughter has not been in "Love". Hence, there was absolutely no chance of intimacy with a boy...She is pure...QED

- A girl or boy is 28 or older and does not care about marriage. Obviously they have had sex or they have been involved with someone or else they are not normal that they have no urge...I can see some logic in that.

- Mothers proudly talk about their sons going out and being obnoxious, out of the house all day. "He can't focus on his studies because he is so distracted with what is going on outside." Have you ever thought why mostly girls top all external exams in Pakistan..well cuz they have no life. All they are encouraged to do is sit and study and learn some home economics...whilst boys party and have a normal social life. Uggggggggggggh.

- We celebrate eunuchs and cross-dressers dancing and we laugh at their gay jokes. We even call them home for dancing on weddings or praying for a new born. But who on earth can be gay in Pakistan? It is just not natural...people in other countries are dirty and filthy and sex maniacs. Being gay is not natural...

- Men wear underwears in weight lifting championships on national TV and boys wear short shorts in public...noone says crap whereas in Islam, a man is not to show from his waist to his knees at all times. But no one will EVER comment on that...a woman should bloody wear a bedsheet all the time...they are beheaded in some parts of the country for being "obscene". People take the law in their hands when it comes to women...

- If a son comes home from work, the mother makes tea for him, treats him like a God. If a daughter comes home from work, she is to make tea for her brother and then food for the rest of the family. It is her duty...no matter that she is also winning bread for the family. Noone bloody rethinks this twice!

I am not a feminist...or maybe I have to sound like one because the balance is tipped so much in favour of the male gender in this society. It is disgusting. And mind you, I have never suffered from penis-envy, which a lot of girls do, in this society ..."I wish I was a man, life would be so good"...would never want to be a man...

Being a woman is so beautiful...I agree, not in Pakistan, though.

The Process of Becoming Big...and Blah


I love how people are so discreet in Hollywood. Insecure, nervous and mistrusting...sigh, what have I gotten myself into.

They won't talk to you but won't openly not talk to you so that one day, when they need you or you are head of them, they can say, I never didn't talk to you...

I love how when we become busier and busier in life, we don't want to know how to meet people anymore, we slowly retract into the few minutes we have to be with ourselves, our close ones and this is interpretted as arrogance.

You see the world unfolding infront of you and you can predict how things you did not understand while growing up, what you fought against while growing up, are so naturally opening up infront of you, so natural, that you can foresee it and it is scary, because you are on the other side. You don't want to admit it but you agree with them. Age, experience has taught you not to fight so vehemently but accept and maybe even agree to them.

I love how when mama says "he is a big man, he will not give us time", I have sat and been with these people in other societies where there aren't status differentiating lines, I have had more of a privilege to talk to them as peers, these people closer to my mother in age. How dare they not see what a rare, exemplified human she is? I hate how sometimes I know feel that I am respected more in circles than my mom...because people don't know her. She is always the one I used to be introduced through...now it is the reverse.

I don't like how nature is reversing everything. I still want mama to have all the answers, I still want to always look up to my parents to be the providers, not in material sense but in social and political sense. I cannot be the one ahead.

I have started feeling this tendency to hold my mother's hand and help her up and down the stairs. To serve food to both my aging parents in trays, pour cold water in their glasses, remind them of their medicines. I hate that they are not agile anymore. I hate it, or maybe I am just scared...I cannot lose them, they are my definition...they are my identity. I cannot be in the forefront defining myself...myself.

Jasmine flowers on my grandmother's grave in Islamabad


Islamabad's oldest graveyard is called the H-8 graveyard, after the sector H-8 (Isb is very organized unlike other cities in Pakistan and is divided according to sectors). After the Lal-Masjid/Red Mosque events in July, this graveyard was filled beyond capacity and a new second graveyard has been opened.

My "khalu" (mother's sister's husband) passed away from cancer in 2005. My "nani" or maternal grandmother passed away in 1979. I never met her. I have now. We went to visit Khalu and Nani.

I visited H-8 with my "khala" (mother's sister, older or younger..this one is older) today. Mama could not come. She told me to see if the graveyard workers had planted the "neem" ( don't know the translation, anyone?) tree at the head of Nani's grave as per her order's on her last visit and that if they did, I should give them Rs. 100 for gratitude.

My mother doesn't go to the graveyard that often. There is a rumour that women should not go to graveyards because the dead can see them naked. Rubbish it seems to me for two reasons:

1) To make women feel ashamed of their bodies, a tool always used by extremists, cover this, cover that, hide, hide, hide. If God has made a woman, she is beautiful and neutral to him, why should she hide herself more than a man?

2) A woman might really miss someone she has lost. Why can she not visit her beloved in her/his final resting place?

So I go regardless. God knows who is right and who is wrong. I just don't feel wrong about visiting the dead and lonely and praying for them. Hence, I went.

We go in the morning and as soon as we park our car in the muddy, green, lush graveyard, this man runs behind us with a bucket of water. Khala says, "Let us first buy the rose petals, rose water and incense." Khala's houseboy, Qaiser, who accompanied us, purchases the goods.

Lala Mustafa, the man with the bucket follows us eagerly as we follow the grid and rows of graves; small, big, long, short, old, new and plenty. Khala tells me that he is appointed by them to take care of Khalu's grave. Rs. 200 per month to keep Khalu's life after death pretty...at least from where we can view him.

We walk through the muddy graves, some are muddy, some are cemented, some are marbled. In Islam, one is ordered not to have permanent graves and in fact, in Saudi Arabia, graves are reused every 2-5 years. Makes sense...if we bury people and then create permanent structures on that plot of ground, we will have to set up life in Mars because Earth would be a giant H-8!

Anyway, we come to Khalu's grave. Lala Mustafa efficiently throws water on the tombstone to clean it. Someone has come to visit Khalu. He can't be presented this way. His tombstone: white and grey marble with Urdu calligraphy on it. A huge rectangular tomb of marble lies before us. 5 X 3 feet. The top was left open. Some people believe that one should leave the top open with normal sand...in case one needs oxygen? I don't know.

The beauty of this visit is that none of us know anything. We do things for our own satisfaction. We ask Lala Mustafa to weed the surroundings of the grave, we spread rose petals all over the wet sand and flowers on the open top part of the grave and spill rose water all over the sand. We do this all for Khalu, in case, he is still down there. But we really just do it for ourselves. We then pray for him. It is called offering the "fatiha". One does it in remembrance of the departed. Recite Surah Fatiha once and Surah Ikhlas three times. One prays for the inclusion of the departed in Heaven and for forgiveness of their sins.

Khala asks Mustafa if he has planted the neem trees. He has. There are two 2 ft tall neem trees that will some day grow and give Khalu some shade.

We bid farewell to Mustafa as he haggles for more money for occasionally weeding and watering the flowers on Khalu's grave. Khala snubs him for talking of such materialistic gains in a space that is constantly reminding us of mortality. It is quite ironic.

Anyway, we head to Nani's grave. I am excited. It is as if I am meeting her for the first time. I am meeting her for the first time. We finally find her grave. Khalu's grave is at the end of H-8 and Nani's is at the beginning. It was, after all, 1979.

Her grave is modest, quiet and peaceful. It is as if we have traveled into the past. Shady, cool, quiet, not crowded...scanty. Her name was "Siddiqa Begum". This time around, I get emotional. I want to spread rose petals. After all, this is the woman who gave me my mother. She did wonders to my life. Too bad, she did not live to see the wonders she gave to the world. Qaiser then spills the water all over the grave. He lights the incense. We offer our "fatiha".

We stand there silently. H-8 is lush green as all graveyards are. Horrid to think about it this way, but there is so much organic fertilizer down there...why shouldn't they be lush. There is a serenity to the graveyard. We stand there silently till Imran and Nasr, two more greedy and (numbed by the graveyard) workers, rudely interrupt our peace.

"Do you want us to plant a neem tree for her?"

Khala says, "No. Plant some jasmine. My mother loved jasmine."

Nazar aka the envying eye...


So in our cultures, and this is not just Muslim but South Asian as I have heard my Hindu friends talk about it too...when one looks at you with an eye of envy, sometimes their envy can cause your enviable quality to dampen or be affected adversely. It doesn't have to be an enemy's envy..can even be your own appreciation of yourself...anyway, when one praises you or you praise yourself, sometimes, that specific quality you praise or clothes you praise or hair you praise or whatever, gets damaged or spoiled...we then say that "nazar lag gayi" which is literally translated as "someone's sight has hit you or their envy has hit you"...

So in Islam, there are certain verses that are prescribe to protect oneself from other people's envy and jealousy and in our Asian culture in general, there are other spiritual ways of taking this envy off oneself..almost an exorcism but in a very light sense.

Some people just recite the surahs and blow it on themselves..usually a mother does it for her children, some people blow their prayers on a glass of water and then throw the water, some use red peppers...heehe, yeah red peppers.

My mama does the red pepper one. She takes 5 or 7 (always an odd number) peppers, recites the four Quls (verses from the Quran), each three times and after each verse, she takes the peppers, in her right hand, and goes around my head three times in a clockwise direction..then she proceeds to the next verse. After all verses are recited three times each, she takes her hand and passes the peppers into her left hand from under her right leg...then, she throws them onto the fire on the stove...and hence, the evil eye burns...heehee

If the peppers smell, then you don't have "nazar" on you but if they don't smell whilst burning, all their fragrance has been used to dampen the "nazar" and it means that there is still some left on you. So you keep doing it, after taking a break of some days, till the peppers smell!

Believe you me, it works...psychology, spirituality, divinity or whatever the reason..it bloody works!!!

Disclaimer: Children should not try this activity at home...:oP

Domestic Violence...



Musarrat, our housemaid..yes we have a housemaid, it is the custom here...they need jobs and we need help...so beyond this surprise that some of you may have..let me start again.

Musarrat comes to our house everyday. She claims she is 25 but she looks 17 and apparently she has been married for 5 years to her first cousin, her mom's sister's son.

The first week, everything was rosy. This pretty girl finished all the work fast and well. Second week, she started feeling ill and would keep saying that her back hurt. In fact, would not say anything but when I would come by the iron stand, I would see her tired and sitting on a chair whilst ironing. I asked if everything was all right. She pretended to be fine.

The other day, when she started playing with my hair, her hand accidentally touched my shoulder and she was burning! I gave her tylenol right away and made her a sandwich and forced her to sit and rest for a while. After half and hour, she started working again...she doesn't eat in our house, she says she is never hungry.

Yesterday, I asked Musarrat why she doesn't tell her family that she is not feeling well. She responded, they say "nothing is wrong with you". This bugged me and so today, obviously I had to stir the subject again.

I: "Did you tell them you were unwell?"
M: "I did and my mother-in-law started yelling at me that I was making excuses to miss a day of work."

Financial causes...I kept quiet. But Iram can't stay quiet for long..call it my blessing or my vice.

I: "Well if they force you to fall ill, do they realize you will miss more days of work?"

That comment unleashed the dam. The dam of complaints, tears, sadness and everything else. Musarrat, which is a beautiful Urdu word that means "happiness" in Urdu...was anything but happy.

She was forced to marry her cousin at a child's age, did not know what was happening. In Islam, it is a woman's RIGHT to agree to marriage. One can't consider a marriage legal till both the bride and bridegroom agree. They probably waited for her adolescence before they unleashed their hungry son on her. She has had one child who died after birth...I don't ask details, I know it is hurtful. Maybe in this house where medical practice is shunned upon, the child died of a very basic illness because noone ever believed that he was ill in the first place...maybe, God knows...

Anyway, Musarrat doesn't complain about a forceful marriage, she doesn't complain about a child marriage or a bad mother-in-law, who is her mother's sister! All she says is, "The sad part is...he is like them. He only listens to his mother and he has told me. 'I will never do what you tell me to do.' "

I am just processing this information when I hear faint sobs. This young girl, with her head covered in a black dupatta, sobs over the sink whilst she does our dishes. I immediately make her drink some water and offer her some tea. I want her to sit down and tell me why she is crying. Here is where the problem comes...

I know, that she is hit at home and harassed all the time. Mental violence for sure...and I am bloody well sure, physical as well, but I am scared to ask...why, you wonder?

I am scared to ask because I know my limits. I can't do anything about it for it is not just her, it is the millions. We tried to intervene in the last housemaid's case and her husband forebade her to work in these "bad women's" house ever again. Right now, at least she can share her worries with me...if I intervene, she will bear more torture at home and they will withdraw her from our house.

Troubled, I think...then what is the solution?

Then I think of this amazing ceremony I went to the other day. It was "Mehergarh's" graduation ceremony where Dr Fouzia Saeed and Dr Kamran Ahmed, two well-educated social workers are training people, especially yourth, from all over Pakistan to solve various social issues in the home and at work involving bonded farmer labor, sexual harassment, domestic violence. The brilliant thing is that these people are from Musarrat's neighborhoods. They are not people like us, they are people who live a life like Musarrat. When more and more of these people will be trained, whose main focus is eradication of these issues and they will be people amongst these people, I can see some sort of hope for change.

There is only so much I can do with my one life. This is not an excuse...this is a pondered upon realization. I can try to do my best through a career I have chosen and along the way, do whatever else I can do.

In Musarrat's case, I thought and considered but then I realized that I was not the one to intervene...she will have to wait or better yet, just pray and hope that she will have the power to demand respect or find a way to grant this well-deserved right to herself.

me vs society, society vs. me or is vs. just perception.

wow, too much to write here but just two short points.

1) Whenever I move around in the Pakistani society, I am frustrated with the social taboos and stigmas but don't know where to start...it is hard to be optimistic and progressive and yet "fit in" the society...what freaks me out is when I see relatives and friends believing blindly in traditions and instruments of faith...where do I begin without automatically making them switch off their brains saying, "she is American, what does she know"...how do I access their brains...frustrating, very frustrating...but don't want to give up.

2) Mama says that one should sacrifice one's feelings for the betterment of society..aka if you love someone and you know that admitting your feelings for them will cause an upheaval...don't do it...I disagree wholly...can't believe she would say that but she is my mother and I love her regardless...but it makes me uneasy to realize we differ on such a basic point. I say scew the world, it is not worth sacrificing my life over...people draw towards whatever is hot at whichever time, so why worry about what they think, what they say...and the funny thing is, indirectly, she has raised me to be that way..but there is certainly conflict and rebuttal in her own thinking..but then again, who is perfect?

Just a Poem...

DAY IN, DAY OUT
Written on June 30, 2007. Staring outside the window at the Mumbai Monsoon…

Day in, day out,
I wake up,
The same clout,
I run there and
I run here,
Trying to live my life.
The day passes by,
“I will live tomorrow”, I say
But I know it will be like today,
The hours pass, the moments fade,
I can’t hold on,
Farewell to everything I bade,
I am helpless.
I want to make the most of today,
Whilst knowing I won’t have time to sit back and relish this ticking time again.
I am told, there is neither loss nor gain,
For life is but a game.
But it is hard to believe,
For I want more,
A better future than before,
And so I wake up and go about,
Day in, day out.