Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Archive for the ‘Other’ Category

Tell me do I look opressed, unhygenic or like a terrorist in these pictures to you? If you said yes to any of them above then please click here and check yourself!

Kudos to the creator of the Burkini – Ahiida designs.

Advertisements

Read Full Post »

The US presidential election has given not just Americans, but citizens of the world much cause for concern. As the candidates have whittled down from a flurry of Republicans each as stupid and dangerous as the other, we’ve been left with the most dangerous one of them all – A man who doesn’t value his word.

Each time Donald Trump opens his mouth, it’s to say something rude, offensive, racist and/or sexist. His comments are mostly outright lies if not grossly misleading and he has been successfully misleading the American public for the last several months. Trump may or may not be broke and this may or may not all be a big publicity stunt but what worries me is the vitriolic hate speech and actions that he seems to have legitimised in the minds of his followers and supporters…

Read the full article HERE.

Read Full Post »

For a while now, I’ve wanted to start up a virtual centre for rape victims and victims of abuse. The site will act like an online white pages which lists contacts and organisations (who have agreed to volunteer and be contacted by rape victims) in their state or city.

The plan is to:

  • Plan a project
  • Design a site
  • Garner contacts who will volunteer various services like legal, medical and media aid, locally at first and then nationally and internationally
  •  Promote the site in a way that it becomes available to victims and their families when they are to scared to seek help in person.

There are things to consider:

  • Legal implications and the necessary disclaimers
  • Design of the site to prevent it causing more harm (ie. if the abuser catches the victim on the site. Some way of deleting cookies or history)
  • Funding, sponsorship or partnerships from and/or with government agencies, NGOs or organisations
  • Promoting the project and concept to a broader audience.

Does anyone have any suggestions on how/where I can start this initiative?

 

Read Full Post »

Recently, I was at the checkout in Aldi when, the (for lack of a better way to describe her) white, ‘Aussie’ woman behind the counter asked the two Asian girls in line behind me to ‘pass over the incense stick lying over there’. The girls gave her blank looks and she repeated her request three more times, each louder than the last until she said, ‘Oh, don’t worry!’. I turned around, noticed the offending incense stick poking out of a counter top, and handed it to her and she said, ‘Oh, you would know! Thank you!’ and I left on my merry way.

This small exchange got me thinking about cross cultural communication and the dialogue we utilise to express ourselves with others. In hindsight, I found it interesting that the cashier chose to repeat the same words louder instead of trying different words or even sign language. This exchange is a microcosm for wider society in which all of us are getting louder and louder in an effort to make ourselves heard, resulting in a cacophony of noise in which no one is actually understood.

The other. Our inherit need to apply structure and control to our surroundings have always implemented a classification system for everything – including ourselves. Throughout our history, social; economic; geographic and natural concerns have impacted the way we see things as well as the way we rank our disparate selves. Now so accustomed to this classification, we fail to recognise in each other our similarities. Instead we assume our difference are what defines us. We assume that an Asian woman should understand English (accent and all) by virtue of being in an English speaking country and that if we just repeat the words louder she must understand. We assume that a veiled woman must be Muslim and therefore oppressed. We assume that covered women must be Muslim and are ranked below Muslim men and have no mind of their own. The same classification system teaches us that it is ok to demand a Sikh man remove his turban, or a Muslim woman remove her veil. That it is ok to subject people of non-white skin colour to more rigorous security protocol at airports or other public places for no other reason than prejudice.

Nowhere is this more palpable than in the country that proclaims itself as the ‘greatest country on earth’. Every day there are reports in mainstream media which portray the Black, the Muslim, the Sikh and the Asian as the Other. The coverage from the media is loud and stubborn as journalists and broadcasters alike spew the same vehement hate speech over and over, louder and louder and wonder why others do not understand or listen to their repeated requests to submit to their way of life. This dangerous pattern has gained traction due to the distinctly unique campaigning style of the Republican nominees who have based their campaigns on one key thing: Fear-mongering. And it’s not just America that’s listening. Hate fuelled acts of violence are being committed every day in almost every part of the world, as people become increasingly scared of the other.  From the Islamophobic graffiti attack on a car in Sydney to racist attacks against British Muslims. It seems that no matter where you are in the world, there is someone who feels threatened by another and reacts in a violent and hateful manner,  thus perpetuating the feeling of being threatened. The net of hurt anger is cast wider and wider.

As I read my newsfeed despondently, two babies sitting on the laps of their respective mothers caught my eye. Both mothers sat on the train facing away from each other but the babies didn’t let that dissuade them. They reached out, and as brown skin made contact with white, both babies faces lit up with undeterred delight. There was no fear and no hatred. Only smiles. Those babies made me realise that love is something we are born with and fear is something we learn. We learn it through a media that sensationalises every attack and every action, we learn it through politicians, and other leaders in the community who misuse their positions to incite fear and hatred in order to further their own agendas. And we perpetuate what we learn through ignorance and refusal to unlearn our hatred by educating ourselves about others who share this world with us.

It is incumbent on every man, woman, and child to learn. As it says in the Holy Quran, “Read! In the Name of your Lord who created” (95:1) Find out about what is happening around you and look beyond your own situation so you can understand what is happening in, and to, the big wide world we all live in. So you can empathise with those less fortunate, so you can use your knowledge and good fortune, your health and your wealth or even just your voice – to fight for what is right. Not louder and louder – but in different ways to reach different audiences. The greatest gift we have is our ability to give and while everyone feels threatened, there are a few who are not afraid to be warm in their welcome. Let’s learn from them, emulate them and communicate with each other not just loudly but more meaningfully so we can forge connections that help us coexist on this shared possession we call Earth.

 

 

Read Full Post »

Today, the heavens opened and rain poured liberally on my new home town. Your old one. As I stood looking outside my thoughts flit, as they often do, to you. There was a time when you were the first and last person I contacted on any given day. There was a time when you knew my every thought, feeling, action and dream – sometimes before I had even said a word. The fact that this is no longer the case still hurts.

There is no communication between us and I wonder how we got to this point. I recall writing about friendships drifting together and apart a while ago, but I never imagined it would foretell the future of our relationship. Ours was a friendship forged by the stars. And now the words “goodbye my lover, goodbye my friend’ ring in my ears as I write this. For you loved me in a way I didn’t know I deserved.

I don’t clearly remember our first meeting, but I remember the subsequent ones, the constant surprises in our conversations when one stated a fact about themselves and the other said, ‘me too!’ Brought together by endless similarities, our age, our friends, our families, our situations, heck even our geographical location! (to think you lived on the next street for so many years without us meeting!) Our conversations were epic. Epic. In you, I found a confidante who listened, who never judged and who was always there.

It helped that we were going through the exact same things at the exact same time. For a period of several years our lives took the same trajectory and we had the same struggles, thoughts, fears and dreams – made the same mistakes and bore the same repercussions. And then you moved to Canberra. At first it wasn’t so bad, you came to visit regularly and whatsapp meant our conversations could continue regardless of the newfound distance. I didn’t see it then, but that was when the trajectories of our lives took slightly separate paths. In the years to come we grew apart but neither of us felt it acutely.

And then it happened. Suddenly there came a day when not only had I not spoken to you in weeks, but I couldn’t even recall the last time we had spoken. Nothing had happened to cause the rift but time and distance. There had been no fight, no argument, no one single thing that would mark the end of a friendship. This is probably why it has taken me so long to process this ending. It completely blindsided me. One day I knew you were in my life and the next – you were not. You called me from the plane to tell me you were going to get married. You had boarded the plane and the call was your closure but it took me completely by surprise. My rock. My support… was going away. I felt a gaping hole and a growing sense of betrayal. But now, I understand. We had discussed so much, I knew too much. I was a constant reminder of your past at a time when you were trying to move into your future. I know this because I was trying to do the same.

In the days that followed, like it always had, our lives mimicked each other. We had finally met and married those elusive men we had spent countless hours talking about. We married within days of each other without consulting each other, or without introducing each other to our new best friends. And it has been months since, now living in your old hometown that I drive by places we had been together, that I recall something you once said.

On one of our many walks you told me you dreamt that I would marry a man that looked good in a Panjabi and stubble, one that recited poetry, and we would live in a place with French doors opening out to a forest. My love, you are gone from my life today but your dream is my present. He does look good in a Panjabi and stubble and he does recite poetry to me on our balcony with the French doors. We live in Canberra which is filled with trees and this gift you have given me of my present lacks only one thing. You.

I know the heart is not an infinite thing, I know life is constant change and that maybe in order to make room in our hearts for our new best friends we had to say good bye to each other. But I will not for this life is constantly changing and it may bring us together again one day. Till then I hope the dream you dreamt of my present is as sweet as the present you have. I hope our countless hours together bring a smile to your face if they ever cross your mind and I hope, so very much – that you my friend have found a new best friend worthy of your love.

Read Full Post »

I read a thought catalog article on being single today and then googled ‘single happy’ and the search engine returned over a million hits in 0.29 seconds. I am hesitant to add to this impressive array of material as I am sure whatever I have to say has already been covered and probably better. But this post is not only meant to be informative, but also reassuring especially from a Bengali/indian point of view. Everything I have read so far on this subject seems either very Bridget jones or very Margaret Atwood when I am living proof that you can be either, or both or neither on any given day.

So for the 1 or 2 people who haven’t heard my mother’s huge sigh of relief reverberating around the globe, I got married on the 22nd of March 2014. After 10 active years of dismissing proposals, arguing with my mother, looking for love, being despondent, being angry, being lost and finally being resigned to being single I gave up.
I gave up thinking that my single status is something that I could change.
I gave up thinking that I was in charge of my destiny and I truly left it to God.

This is easier said than done. I know because for the past 2 or 3 years I had been saying that I had ‘given up’ and that ‘God knew best’ but deep down I didn’t truly believe it, deep down I was still scrambling to control my relationships and whether or not anyone else saw I was still desperately hoping that I could do something to change the course of my fate. This is not at all to negate my favourite hadith which encourages you to ‘have faith in Allah swt but tie your camel’

One day Prophet Muhammad (Peace and Blessing of Allah SWT be upon him) noticed a Bedouin leaving his camel without tying it and he asked the Bedouin, “Why don’t you tie down your camel?” The Bedouin answered, “I put my trust in Allah.” The Prophet (PBUH) then said, “Tie your camel first, then put your trust in Allah” (At-Tirmidhi).

It did bring home to me that births, deaths and marriages are truly in the hands of God. This simple hadith is so powerful. We are living in the greatest age if human intelligence and advancement and it’s so easy to forget that we are not our masters. That we are merely a speck in the greater infinite universe of God’s creation. When we lose sight of that bigger picture it becomes impossible to have blind faith in the fact that God will take care of me. And when that happens we scramble like crazy to dating sites, speed dating venues and our ‘bio datas’ do the rounds of aunties. But I digress. There is a lot I want to say on this subject – get it off my proverbial chest so to speak.

The start of the beginning

The moment you are born a Bengali/desi child, your parents begin to worry. They worry as you grow up, they worry as you start school, they worry when you get to university but none of that compares to the worry that begins when the first person casually mentions to them, ’She’s all grown up now! She’ll be getting married soon.’ And there goes a peaceful night’s sleep for the parents of a Bengali girl. From now till the day she says ‘I accept’ every waking moment is haunted by,

  • What will happen to my daughter?
  • Who will marry her?
  • Is she educated enough? Pretty enough? Good enough? Talented enough? Religious enough?

And it isn’t long before this worry and sometimes frustration finds its way, displaced or directly, to the child in question. And that my dears is when a girl truly becomes a woman. It’s not when your body changes, it’s not when you begin to notice or like boys, but it’s when you start realising that you parents cannot sleep because they are so worried about you. And that brings with it.. Guilt. lots of guilt.

The beginning

Two things happen at this point.

  1. The very select lucky few women on this planet find their prince charming (or their prince charming finds them) and they can happily dispel their parents anxiety and work towards their happily ever after. If that’s you. Pat yourself on the back. Good job. Now go away. Because for the rest of us your life is just as dreamlike and just as elusive as Jasmine and Aladdin and Elizabeth and Mr Darcy. We don’t hate you. We ARE genuinely happy for you. But seriously.. don’t tell us your life is hard ever again because what we go through, that you are spared from, is much harder.
  2. The rest of us are primped, primed and positioned to an inch of our lives as we are dragged to dawats. Any remotely nice picture of us is tacked to a bio data which is a resume for marriage purposes listing your life history, hobbies that show what a good girl you are (gardening and knitting anyone?), your family tree and their respective occupations to show you come from good lineage. And the worst part of all of this is that every single family friend is now eligible to ask you, ‘When are you getting married?’. People will delight in projecting your life for the next five years including who you will marry, where you will live and more often than not these ruminations from an overactive imagination become firm fast rumours doing a marathon around your respective social circle so the next time you are out you have to start every sentence with, ‘No I am not getting married. Where did you hear that from?’

If this is you, in the latter situation, please sit down with some chocolate and give yourself a hug. You will need it. This is only the beginning of a process which will define your womanhood. It will thrust you into the reality of social circles, it will enlighten you, quite harshly at times, to who your real friends are and it will teach you how to deal with unwanted attention, grief, guilt and depression. But know through all of your turbulent emotions, that your parents are doing this out of their love for you. A desi parent has no other avenue of showing you how much they care and trying to find you someone who will love you anywhere near as much as they do is their sole ambition in this elaborate and sometimes painful process. So strap yourself in, thicken your skin and buckle up for the ride. It gets harder before it gets easier.

The process

Typically by the time your first serious proposal that your parents consider comes around, you are around 18. Just beginning uni, just getting over that first high school crush and there are too many firsts going on in a life that you are still trying to figure out for you to deal with the idea of marriage and the notion of ‘forever’. But this first proposal will set the tone for the countless others you will deal with. Because it will be the precedent on which your parents and you interact on this subject. It is a truth universally acknowledged that daughters are closer to their fathers and some families might embrace this notion and your father may chat to you on this topic. But typically this conversation is mother daughter domain and it is a conversation so electrically charged it has very real potential to quickly disintegrate into a shouting match. Your mother will see this ‘boy’ to be a ‘great match’ and ‘exactly what we are looking for for you’ and she will be astounded by the fact that you will say, ‘I am not ready’ and ‘I don’t even know him’ and you might get the ‘in my day’ story. My advice to you. Shut up.

You mum/dad is not interested in what you have to say so save your breath. They are here to advocate and advertise their IDEA of what they think is best for you. So just let them. This is important. Because it shows them that you respect them, understand them and value their opinion. In doing this you set the tone for future conversations so that when YOU want to be heard, respected and understood – they will do so (hopefully). Having gotten this first conversation out of the way. Just keep quiet and wait. Because the first proposal will come and go and so will a fair few others before THAT ONE DUDE comes along and you need to be ready for this one.

That ONE dude

Every single person that has gone through the arranged marriage process has encountered what I call the ‘That one dude’ phenomena. He is that one person that makes you question every single argument you ever put to your parents. He is the one person that makes you want to give up because it’s just too hard to keep fighting. This may have nothing to do with the guy himself or the proposal and everything to do with the time at which this phenomena occurs in your life. Nevertheless ‘that one dude’ will come along. He is the ‘perfect’ potential on paper. He is tall (or so his bio-data says), fair and handsome (refer to the ‘best of a 100’ picture that his mum sent with the bio data) and has a great job (doctor, lawyer, accountant, engineer). So you agree to meet him in person and the meeting might happen at a dawat, gathering or over coffee by yourselves or in a group. But it won’t take you long (30 seconds) before you realise you have ZERO chemistry with this guy and he is BORING you to death. I need to clarify here that this has NOTHING to do with the guy (if you are THAT guy reading this.. you are REALLY nice. And sweet but just not the right fit). It’s just something is missing and you sense it right away. So you go home and when your mum asks you how it went you say ‘it was ok’ because it was. He wasn’t rude or smelly or stupid. He was a perfectly nice guy. And so the internal struggle begins. Because by now your about 23-25 and the pressure is really on. Your friends are getting married, you’re going to weddings every other weekend and there is always wedding talk going on in the house and the parents have already gone through a cycle of potential hope, frustration and then despair. This is when you are at your most vulnerable.

It is when you open facebook and the plethora of wedding pictures that affront you is assaulting.

It is when you have conversations with your mum that sound like simon cowell judging a contestant, ‘You gained a fair bit of weight, you have crooked teeth, I really think this is the best you can do. I am saying this because I love you.’

It is when this whole process comes very close to breaking you. When you lie awake at night and think, is this really the best I can do? Maybe it is. Maybe those butterflies aren’t meant to flutter in my stomach after all, I mean he’s a nice guy, Sure he bores me but he can provide for me, so what if we have nothing in common, he’s got a good job. So what if he has no interest in asking me about myself? He comes from a good family. So what if he never asks me for my opinion. Marrying him will make my parents happy. And all that guilt that’s been building up inside you throughout this process of tug of war with your parents will come to a boil and you will be very very tempted to give up. Don’t. I repeat. DO NOT GIVE IN. You are so much more that you perceive yourself to be. You are worth SO much more than you think and you deserve so much more than you could possibly imagine. DO NOT SELL YOURSELF SHORT. If you want chocolate cake then hold out for chocolate cake dammit! No matter how good vanilla cake is.. it will never be chocolate cake and you will never be satisfied. And you might be able to fake it for a day,. A week, a month, a year but eventually your parents will see that you are not satisfied and they will not be happy. So if you feel like giving in for your parents – it won’t work. Eventually the person you married will feel that no matter what they do- they just can’t get through to you. And you will have cheated them as well as yourself of happiness. So don’t. Eventually the initial relief of ‘getting it over and done’ with that you feel will be replaced by a feeling of dread and despair at the prospective of ‘forever’ with a person you do not like. So DO NOT DO IT.

Listen to your parents when they talk to you about him. But be polite and firm in your refusal. Use that thick skin you built up earlier and the guidelines of open conversation you established earlier to maintain your position of Thanks. But no thanks. I want chocolate cake and I will wait. For my Chocolate. Cake.

The emotions

This whole process can last from anywhere from a year to a decade. It can happen to a girl or a guy. It can happen to a Bengali or non-Bengali. It can happen whether you are rich or poor. And so there is no one way of handling your emotions that will work except the one cardinal rule you must never forget. Love yourself. I know. As lame, corny and clichéd as it sounds this process more than any other process in life (so far anyway), will make you feel like crap. So many many times along the way family and friends intentionally or otherwise will make you feel unloved, unwanted, and undervalued. Passing comments from people you do not know will sting and stick. Nights will be spent crying and sleep will evade you. Be Strong. Be the one voice in your head that is consistently loving to deflect the barrage of negativity from others. Because you ARE amazing and you ARE gorgeous and you ARE worthy and very soon a person WILL come along that will see that and be worthy of you.

But there is a reason that doesn’t happen automatically. In a world where we are the masters of our every action it is easy to forget that we are just cogs in a much much bigger wheel and it’s the maker of that wheel that asks you through this process to stop. Think. Re-evaluate your life and the purpose and intentions with which you wake up and go through the motions every morning. The process of choosing your life partner is hard BECAUSE it is so inextricably linked to the direction you forever will take. You need to get through a stage of angst and despair and pain and hurt to come out stronger and with more self-belief so you can espouse with confidence the life partner and the life path you have chosen for yourself and it is to ensure that you have this self-belief that god tests you. It is to ensure that you will not waver and that you have someone who you can lean on when life happens that God makes you certain through this process of elimination.

So don’t bottle up your emotions. A little bit of self-pity goes a long way if used in moderation and used wisely to self-evaluate and propel yourself to a certain direction in life. Develop your thick skin. You will need it much more as you get older. Respect your parents because though you might not understand their weird ways, know that they do it out of love and concern and affection. And most of all. Laugh. Find friends that love you and understand you for who you are and not who they want you to be. And laugh with them. Laugh the kind of laughter that will make you realise that it doesn’t matter if you are single and who knows it. What matters in life is having the right people around you to keep you on a path that takes you to your destination. That aligns you to a greater understanding of god and good. That makes you embrace with a passion the things you want to do and be the person you are capable of being.

The Desi way

When I told a friend at work about the arranged marriage process through which I met my husband, I expected some sort of remark, what I didn’t expect was her tone of wistfulness. She actually wished that she had parents and an extended social network that could facilitate arranged meet ups because ‘meeting a good man in town is impossible’. Through that conversation I realised that no matter how frustrating the network of ‘aunties’ can get, they actually provide an invaluable service of vetting men and women and forming connections that would be otherwise impossible. For her the process was to meet someone at work, gym, party, bar and go on at least 3-5 dates (think endless excruciating decisions on clothes, hair make up, venue, shoes etc not to mention the expense!) before she knew even half of what was provided in a biodata.

So as much as I made fun of the aunties in my spiel above. I am grateful for the vetting and ‘flow of information’ they provide. Just… can we stick to the facts please? Let’s not get all JK Rowling on my life story please.

While the arranged marriage process definitely works, there are a few improvements that can definately be made:

  1. Aunties: Reduce the cattiness. Aunties, uncles, girls and boys….you were all young once, You went through a similar phase. Have some compassion. Don’t kick a girl when she’s down. Don’t keep asking her when she’s going to get married. Trust me. When she does you will know. You are part of a network much stronger than Facebook.
  2. Parents: please be nicer – You are the people who are love us the most in this world. Your every word is taken very very seriously by us whether we show it or not. SO when you say things like we are not good enough even though you may not have meant it – it hurt. It stuck with us. This is one of the most emotionally trying times in our lives. Be our support system instead of our critic.
  3. Everyone else: tone down the gossip – this process is hard enough as it is without having to contend with the endless he said she said. If something is happening, let it happen. If someone wants to know what you think they will ask you. Otherwise. Just wait and watch.

What it all boils down to is

  • Have faith not only in God but in YOU who God created. Have faith in your ability. Your self. Your belief. Your feelings.. have confidence to act on them.
  • Don’t compare yourself with the girl who married her high school sweetheart. Don’t see her as having more than you. Instead see what you can share with her. Develop the skill of sharing because marriage is not about matching the other person tit for tat but about sharing pats of you to make a whole.
  • Don’t look for perfection. No one is perfect. Look for someone who is a good person. Someone who respects you. Someone who has ambitions and has a purpose in Life. Someone who wants to be closer to God.
  • This process doesn’t always end in marriage. Or even a happy marriage. Nothing is guaranteed. No one knows what Allah swt has in store for us. But if you learn the lessons of patience, respect and love it will put you in good stead to tackle any situation life throws at you no matter what your marital status.
  • Learn to be happy. As a child we laughed on average 20 times more in a day than we do as adults. Everything was new. Everything was good. Happiness was the default mode. Re-learn happiness. Do things that make you happy. Put yourself in positions that make you happy. When you are happy you feel good. And when you feel good you will Do Good.

banksy-heart

Read Full Post »

A friend of mine messaged me yesterday and asked me something along the lines of, ..how was it that I wanted to go out to parties with my friends and you didn’t Shaf..I would love to know the secret if there is any of how you passed those years without getting into severe trouble!!’ I laughed. She is an amazing and wonderful woman and a close friend and she of all people should know how much trouble I keep getting myself into. So I wrote back, ‘My secret was to get into smaller bouts of consistent trouble so that parents were perpetually fed up with me.’

Our ensuing conversation got me thinking about expectations. Perceptions feed expectations. Despite growing up together my friend had a perception of me as a person who didn’t get into severe trouble and expected I may have the answer as to why. Building on that premise, our perceptions of our relationships with family, friends, partners – all breed expectations. We all have them. But why are they so debilitating? Why do they make us vulnerable to others? Especially those we love? This post is going to be extraordinarily clichéd but it is because I have been thinking about clichés lately. Why are clichés clichés? Why can memes like these be read by anyone, anywhere and have an instant mutual understanding? Clichés (say it five times really fast!) are what they are because they have been tested by time and place over and over again. And although it might seem like they are not worth more than a cursory glance, it is actually clichés that can teach you so much that you thought earlier on in life you didn’t need to know.

When you are younger and ignorance is bliss because you think you know all there is to know (Hello 16 year old self! Aren’t you eating your words right now), you scoff at quotes which tell you that more expectations lead to more disappointment because hey you know everything and you only expect what you deserve so your definitely going to get it right? Wrong. As I’ve gotten older (and hopefully wiser), I’ve learnt that love is directly proportional to expectation. I love my father. He is my favourite person in the whole wide world. So even the most offhand cursory comment from him (well intended as it may be) will elicit tears from me when more severe and cutting rebukes from my mum are easily ignored (not because I love her any less but the frequency of those builds up immunity!). There have been times in my life where I have loved and expected thinking that my love for someone justifies my expectations. I have seen sisters who love and care for their brothers and expect from them love and respect only to be marginalised for their wives. The disappointment elicited from unfulfilled expectations is not the fault of the one you love. As much as it may seem so – tis not. It is wholly and entirely your fault.

Eleanor Roosevelt’s words, ‘No one can you make you feel inferior without your consent’ resonate with me when I say this. Love, admiration, respect and trust are in their place. But none of these should build expectations from others. Because others are fallible. In our society and in our culture we are raised to ‘expect’ love and care from our parents. We are raised to ‘expect’ an ATM in shining armour for a husband. We are raised to ‘expect’ respect from our siblings and colleagues even if we have not done enough to deserve these things. My point here is two-fold. Firstly, we should not be expecting anything from anyone except God. Yes you may want the love of a certain person and the respect of another, but that ultimate destiny and decision is in God’s hands and it to Him that you should supplicate. Secondly, God has told us that it is not enough that you simply have faith, you must tie your camel too (Source: Sunan At-Tirmidhi 2517). Simply praying to God for the love and respect of others but doing nothing to elicit or deserve it will get you nowhere. The responsibility then for the outcome of your expectations lies wholly on God and on you. Your actions will deem you worthy to God who in turn will reward you. Nowhere in this scenario should the expectation or the blame in the case of a negative outcome lie on the object/person of you affection/attention.

This. Is harder said than done. I know. Because I have struggled with this for the past 5 years of my life. I was brought up by awesome parents who instilled in me so much confidence (it was my fault that I ignored their lessons in humility) that I felt entitled to love and respect regardless of how I acted. And it has been a hard path to travel on the way back from overconfidence with copious consumption of humble pie. I still don’t have the answer and I won’t pretend to. All I know is that this year I’ve told myself that enough is enough. Enough immaturity. Enough eating what I want. Doing what I like. Focus. So I’m focusing in my Religion. Health. Self-betterment. And that’s all. By being focused on good goals I hope to automatically cut out the peripheral chances of making mistakes had I had bad or unsavoury goals. Or even no goals which would keep me open to distractions.

Building on my awesome conversation with her I had another conversation with two more friends who were talking about ‘give and take’ in relationships and how they ‘manage’ their girlfriends. Now before you jump on your feminist high horse, this isn’t about keeping your ‘woman’ in her place. Rather it’s about managing your relationship in a constructive and communicative way. And I was impressed that here were two relatively young twenty something’s that had put a considerable amount of thought into how they approach and sustain expectations from their loved ones. What great maturity! Gone are they days in which the ‘hunter’ was always a male and the ‘gatherer’ was always a female and the two roles were mutually exclusive with the former exercising dominance over the latter. Gone are the days when men refused to talk about their feelings and partake in an open dialogue with their loved ones for fear of losing their place on that imaginary high pedestal of masculinity.

In our culture, no one prepares you on how to be a good daughter/son or a good husband/wife or a good mother/father purely on religious values, so much of it is mixed with our ‘desi’ culture which is mostly based on the timeless adage “What people will say and think”. Which sucks. You know how in movies they have a happy ever after? Well life doesn’t have one. I found that out the hard way. So many times in my life I had Kodak moments in which I wishes I could just end my story here. But God is the best if planners and if your story is still being written then go with the flow. It will have action and drama and suspense but inshallah the end will be beautiful. Perseverance is key. Easier said than done I know. Much of our lives as kids is about fitting in; into school, dawaats, friends circles, family expectations… we are all taught to not rock the boat. But Islam isn’t about that. And to be a good Muslim sometimes you not only rock the boat but turn it upside down and dance on it! As in, you challenge the perceived norm of what is cultural acceptable to do what is religiously mandated such as prayer, and modesty and the core values of all religions. And it’s only when we’ve had a good upbringing and surrounded ourselves with good people that we can be brave enough to follow Islam instead of society. So this year I plan to walk that path with my head held high knowing that I am not alone.

4fb83eb6ce583046e431fec28693a705

Read Full Post »

Older Posts »