Break your ego coz we don’t need that

After class this morning, I decided I needed to come home for a nap. On the way, I stopped to get Chinese food that I've been craving for a few days, and also decided to pick up milk from the grocery store (and a number of other useless items). It's a beautiful day in Washington, D.C. As I was walking towards the cross walk, I noticed two people at the corner - one, a young man, and the other seemed to be an older man - and the younger man was assisting him. The second person turned in my direction and said - excuse me, could you help me cross the street. And I stopped, and was like - um, sure. I soon realized that I was mistaken and the person was actually a woman - lets say her name was Carol. Carol was propping herself up with two canes, I don't know why - but her legs didn't seem to have the full strength or ability to support her. I realized that the guy was physically holding her up on her left side, and she motioned for me to grab her arm to hold her up from the right. I had groceries in my hands, and basically shifted all of them to my right hand - and tried to support her with my left.

One of Carol's canes had gotten stuck in the elevator shaft earlier that day (or perhaps the day before) and was slipping. We had to wait about 30-40 seconds for the light to change, and began to cross the street. I realized how dangerous it was that her cane was slipping - the rubber support was not able to grip and support her, and if it slipped - she would be immobilized.

We got across the street (this is near the UDC metro) and she asked for us to help her to the building (UDC campus building) where she hoped to get others to help her where she needed to go. From our conversation, I gathered that she had to go to the bookstore to get a book that she needed for her teaching certificate (I'm not entirely sure what it was about). By this point, the dude and I are sweating ... and Carol says - well, you guys are getting quite a workout. And I'm thinking to myself, subha'anAllah ... this is five minutes of our lives, this woman has to work this hard to do anything! Long story short, we get Carol into the building, and seated near the bookstore where she could get someone to help her with what she needed. As we headed back, the boy said, "wow that was quite a work out." To which, I could only respond, "well, it was probably more difficult for her than for us."

My writing does no justice to this woman's story ... as I walked back to my car, sat down and drove away ... I began thinking ... it blows my mind that this woman could not walk without assistance. It served as an amazing reminder of how incredibly blessed I am ... to be able to get neccessary things done, like walking - to the bookstore, without assistance. In the six hours that I have been awake today - I have had the ability to do more than Carol could, and I wonder - have I done that time justice. The other thing I was thinking is that people in these circumstances are put in a very humbling position where they sometimes need to ask for help. I personally consider myself a very proud person, and often find it difficult to ask for help ... but to recognize that we are dependent ... we need each other, and of course the strength of a much higher being to survive. Such encounters are blessings from Allah, becuase it serves as a reminder that we need to break our egos ... and humble ourselves.

An hour earlier, I was worried about whether I'd have time to take a nap, whether my bank account was overdrafted (because I'm stupid and didn't deposit a check), whether I'm going to get this paper done ... not stopping for a moment to be thankful that I woke up this morning in a warm bed, was able to drive to school - benefit from two lectures, interact with people that are dear to me, buy lunch, go to the grocery store ... that I have the ability to do these simple things, when so many others may not ... blows my mind.

** this post isn't really coherent, but I wanted to get down my thoughts and reflections quickly ***

Fragility ...

When we get caught up in every day life, and start worrying about the dunya too much ... we are hit with the harsh reality that this dunya isn't what we should be worrying about. The dunya is for us to strive on the straight path ... strive in the deen, and whether we reach that goal is what we should be worried about. Too often we forget that this world is incredibly fragile ... but we don't know where we will be tomorrow.

This past ramadan I've been thinking alot about family, especially those that have passed ...

As I alluded to in previous posts, I have been blessed to have had many strong women in my life. By far, the strongest woman in my life was my maternal grandmother, Amma. I will inshaAllah be the first female lawyer in my family (one of my cousins beat me to it because he went to lawschool in the UK - where its an undergraduate degree!!) - but I come from a long line of traditional firsts - Amma was the first memon woman to get a drivers licence in Bangalore, her brother (my Jaffer Mama) was the first memon to earn a Bachelors degree, my sister was the first to earn an MBA, Ma'shaAllah. Back to Amma and her driver's license, it was a license that she put to very good use - spending much of her time visiting people regardless of whether there was an occasion for a visit, driving people where they needed to go, etc. When she was home, her days started after Fajr prayer, and then off to get the work of the day done; she barely sat down to eat - breakfast was toast and tea, lunch may have been the same ... who knows. With Amma, it was more important that everyone else around her ate and was well fed with her goodies. It was a trait that she shared with her siblings, and passed on to her children ... something I hope that I have inherited.

As much as I miss Amma for her warm smile, tender heart and amazing culinary skills, I miss the time that I spent with her. I was infinitely blessed to have spent much of my childhood at Amma's house - but the one regret that I have is that I wasn't able to benefit from her knowledge and soak in her steadfast dedication to Islam. I remember sleeping over, and waking up in the middle of the night to find Amma in prayer ... rolling over, and waking up hours later to find her still in prayer. Subha'anAllah. It was not unusual to find Amma curled up on the janemaaz after Fajr or Asr, too tired to even lie down on the bed.

Amma was the rope that tied our family together, she was the reason we grew up so close. Weekly dinners were common, and one never had to ask where Eid dinner was. Alhamdullilah, as time went the long family room table filled up, and overflowed - but we still all squeezed in together. We are now all scattered across at least three continents, but our common family bond ... a bond that was strengthened by Amma, is what pulls us all together.

While I deeply regret not being able to stand in prayer next to her, and appreciate everything she tried to teach me ... I am eternally grateful that she was a part of my life. I can honestly say that I would not be the person that I am today if it wasn't for Amma - she was a living example of compassion, and the kind of person that I strive to be.

We're all blessed with amazing people in our lives - whether they enter for several minutes or several decades. Nothing is random, everything happens for a reason. No person enters the path of our lives without having made some impact on it ... and for that we should all be eternally grateful. Our time in this dunya is way too short not to be.

In order to conquer the beast, you must make it beautiful.

I'm in the middle of something that I'm not quite sure of. It kinda makes sense in my head, but I'm working on getting it down on paper. Not an easy task I tell you. Too many complications, and the stress level is increasing. When the stress level increases, the emotional level increases and things just go downhill from there.

Perhaps I'm taking this stuff a little bit too much to heart. For the past five years or so, I've been absolutely fascinated with the partition of (British) India and the repercussions of that fateful decision. The mindless fascination stops when I realize the sacrifices that were made, and the lives that were lost. I remember reading somewhere that the partition initiated one of the largest (or maybe the largest) mass migration of persons across borders - 12 to 14 million people were displaced. That number is just staggering. 12 to 14 million people. Almost sixty years later, the scars may have faded - but the wounds are still there. The pain is apparent in the communal violence in Gujrat and Ayodhya, in the struggle in Kashmir and in the people that were left behind. This hits a personal nerve, even though I have no reason to be personally effected.

Alot of thoughts running through my head ... too many in fact. But all is being set aside so that all I'm thinking about is ... citizenship. Bangladesh. international law - and its failings. Until Nov. 8 though - I need to put the skeptic in me to bed and bring out at least one intelligent argument. *sigh.

What would you do, if you knew you could not fail?

The critters of DC

I don't think I've mentioned my ongoing fight with DC critters. My new place, by virtue of its location (a basement) seems to attract spiders and camel crickets. Neither are harmful, but just REALLY creepy ... so I tend to wage battle with them constantly. It's not too bad, it keeps me alert and entertained.

I have had a few run ins with other locals - the other night, I had my window open because it was incredibly warm inside (a mystery as to why, because it was freezing outside and the heat was off). I hear a scratching, look up - and I'm staring at a racoon that is sticking its head in my window! Of course I yell for it to shoo, and alhamdullilah I scared it away ... although I'm glad it took off, I felt bad coz the poor critter just wanted someplace warm to come in from the cold! However, I'm not quite that generous.


I thought that was the end of it - but last night, as I headed out for Tahajjud, as I pulled out of my driveway (thankfully I was driving really slowly to adjust the heat) a full grown deer jumps out onto the street! I was shocked - I live in Washington, DC and a deer just jumped in front of my car!!? Absurd, thankfully it was a little in front of me - and just crossed the street and proceeded to take a stroll down the sidewalk.

As much as I enjoy being "close to nature" this is a little absurd! But, alhamdullilah, it keeps things interesting :-)

*** Note: as of 10/25 - I have had a run in with a duck trying to cross over from one side of GW Parkway to the other, and was forced to wait for a possum to cross the street.

Sometimes ...

People [can be] unreasonable, illogical and self-centered.
Love them anyway.
If you do good, people [may] accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives.
Do good anyway.
If you are successful, you [may] win false friends and true enemies.
Succeed anyway.
The good you do today will be forgotten tomorrow.
Do good anyway.
Honesty and frankness make you vulnerable.
Be honest and frank anyway.
The biggest person with the biggest ideas can be shot down by the smallest person with the smallest mind.
Think big anyway.
What you spend years building maybe destroyed overnight.
Build anyway.
People really need help but may attack if you help them.
Help anyway.

Give the world the best you have and you might get kicked in the teeth.
Give the world the best you've got anyway.

- unknown

Pointless reminisence

"When Manoj first arrived in Bangalore in 1982, he looked out of the car driving him from the airport and asked the question that was to haunt him for years: 'But where's the city?' It was wide-open spaces and low buildings and to someone arriving from Mumbai, it was like stepping out of the heart of a cyclone to a quiet little plateau. It took him about a decade to stop missing spoken Hindi, and almost another decade to finally figure out that Bangalore possessed something no other metro he had been to in India had: it was a cultural stronghold that actually welded the modern with the traditional and came out a winner.

Culture is everything. It is who you are. In Bangalore, it covers a multitude of areas in a way unique to the nature of the Kannadiga; we can absorb, but at the same time our roots are strong."

- The Indian Express - Express Magazine, Sunday April 2000. Bangalore, India

I will never forget what Cubbon Park smells like after the first of the April showers, or how beautiful Bangalore Palace looks lit up against the clear evening sky. There are few moments that compare to watching an India-Pakistan cricket match in Chinnaswamy Stadium with 60,000 other people. Climbing mango trees, breakfast on the roadside or lunch at the dhaba, cheap Chinese food, amazing views from Nandi Hills, road trips to Ooty or Masinagudi through the foggy roads, long drives to college and back, whipping the seniors on the "indoor" court at MCC, floodlight matches at Indiranagar, watching the sun come up on the ring road, or just chilling at home - with the cool Bangalore breeze tapping me into a peaceful slumber.

I miss namma Bangaluru.

Only a wahoo would understand

It's so difficult to express my love for Charlottesville and UVA. There is just something absolutely magical about it that touches my heart when I enter, and brings me to tears when I leave. The fall, especially, is an absolutely gorgeous time in the 'ville.

The soft breeze that rustles through the auburn, red and gold leaves is soothing, the winding-hilly roads calming, and the starfilled night sky ... breathtaking. Of course, everything is more gorgeous during Ramadan (I'm convinced of it) - but generally everything is more beautiful in the 'ville.

Coherent thinking is beyond me right now ... just wanted to try to articulate my love for Charlottesvile. I think I failed miserably, but perhaps thats the point -- you gotta be a wahoo to understand. Although, I do wish that I had the ability to convey what magic Charlottesville holds, and what makes me never want to leave. I used to think it was the people - but I realized today that I could walk around grounds - not know anyone, and still be utterly content at Mr. Jefferson's University.

Tommy Emmanuel - Classical Gas

Wow, this guy is phenomenal. And classical gas is just awesome generally.

Tantrums

As a child, I was definitely one to throw tantrums ... and not just little ones. I would basically sit on the floor and pound my hands and feet until someone listened. Of course, initially people reacted and I would get what I wanted, but soon - people stopped reacting, and I was basically yelling and screaming in empty space, making a fool of myself.

I sometimes wonder if my posts are reminiscent of my tantrums. I wonder, does anyone really pay attention to this blog. Actually, I don't wonder - I know who reads, and who reacts, but maybe no one's paying attention. I'm just another voice, in an ocean of yelling and screaming. Maybe I'm making a fool of myself, vaulting my views into cyberspace. I suppose that was the point - to air my views regardless of whether anyone can actually hear them. [if a tree falls in the middle of an empty forest, and no one's around - did it make a sound?]

Sometimes you just want to yell out and make everyone listen to you - make everyone react, hop to your beat. But I realize that I won't always be able to shout out and make a stand, and maybe shouting isn't the most effective way to solicit a reaction. Every once in a while, and I guess this is the product of age, you just want to sit still and see whats happening around you. But other times you know that you just have to say something, and that its not right to stay quiet. Pick your battles so to speak.

I suppose I can fulfill both roles - as a blogger and inshaAllah a future attorney. The pen is mightier than the sword they say, I hope that I get a chance to put something worthwhile down in ink. Or alternatively, that my silence speaks volumes about my thoughts. Regardless, I think I might have to reassess the point of this blog - and whether it has a point, or should have a point at all ... [trails off into silent thought .... *sigh]

Floored.

PJ’s doing her PhD in some kind of study of linguistic, and communication. She’s fascinated with the ability of human beings to communicate with each other – even if they don’t speak the same language. When I was in the burgh a couple of weeks ago – I stopped by her new apartment, and then headed to gets some ice-cream. On two occasions in the hour that we hung out, PJ spoke to me in Japanese (she’s fluent; I’m clueless) and I intuitively responded – not necessarily understanding what she said, but somehow knew how to respond. At some point, we both realized what had happened and it was quite a profound moment! Our “conversation” has given her some food for thought in terms of a thesis. Of course she’s going to have to get around the fact that we both know each other so well, its quite possible that I read her mind.

Regardless, I think her theory that human beings intuitively communicate with each other on some level holds water. I was at Politics and Prose this evening, with a large latte and some delicious cookies. I was sitting on the couch, across from a girl who seemed to be studying for the GRE (big GRE book gave it away). As she was leaving, she put on a “Save Darfur” sweatshirt, which immediately caught my eye – and I couldn’t help but glance at it. She immediately noticed, and said – “I saw your wrist band.” I was like, oh! Yeah – and started to talk to her about where she got the sweatshirt (I’m buying one btw), etc. Before she left, I said – hey, good luck on the GRE; she responded with, thanks – good luck with law school. I was floored – do I have “LAW STUDENT” typed on my forehead?!?!?! I’m working on a paper, which is to some degree about citizenship – a subject that is probably more fitting on the social policy shelf, and am surrounded by books on that subject. Not one “law” book in sight. How in the world did she know I am a law student? Does body language relate that much? Perhaps it was the glasses? Or maybe my lawyerly air (aka confused look on face)?

Floored.

The mighty muhajjiba

Muhajjiba literally means one who wears hijab*

I've been meaning to write this for a long time, mostly because I hear way too many negative things about muslims, and especially muslim women who cover.

I've learned much in the past five years, since orientation at UVA where I met someone that helped me change my entire way of thinking. At the time, I had never been one to pay much attention to what I wore, and never really consciously thought about modesty as an essential part of character. Subconsciously, I know that I had a very biased view of muhajjiba - I think I was uncomfortable around them becuase I percieved (please note, past tense) them as being "holier than thou" - perhaps a reflection of an underlying feeling of inadequacy. Mind you I knew no hijabis at the time - my bubble was rather small. My discomfort was rooted in the fact that I didn't know very many young practicing muslims growing up, and although I was brought up in a muslim family - hijab was an alien concept to me. There were no sunday schools, and women attending j'ummah - yikes, never! Yes, muslim women cover ... but for to me (at that time) if you wore hijab, there was no way that you could be cool, or interesting. Religion and cool - like oil and water. It just didn't mix.

Alot of that changed when a very special muhajjiba helped me realize that wearing hijab has nothing to do with your personality. As my first Ramadan away from home approached, she would tell me - ah, I'm so excited about Ramadan. I'm like, huh - whats so exciting about Ramadan! She never articulated her passion for Ramadan, but from spending time with her - I began to see what excited her about this amazing month, and this amazing deen. The first Ramadan, in 2001, was somewhat of a life-changing experience. While I can write an entire post just about that, my point is - my friend showed me that practicing your religion doesn't mean that you have to change your entire way of life. Being passionate about the deen is about working as hard as you can to be the best that you can, but it doesn't preclude you from anything. In the crudest of terms, Muslims are cool too.

This Ramadan, I will have spent many evenings with one or a dozen of my dearest friends. I am surrounded by these amazing, gracious, loving ... (the list could go on) and beyond anything, strong muslim women. Most every evening (or day, or weekend, or week!) that I have spent with these amazing women, I have been more relaxed, and more comfortable than I have ever been. We talk about everything under the sun, laugh together, eat together, play basketball/soccer together, explore together (explore our deen, and exotic places like W.VA and Puerto Rico!) - somehow manage to have a fantastic time, and most importantly, when the time comes - we pray together. Sometimes, in the moments following salat, I catch myself, take a step back - to take in the completely surreal moment - look around at the room - and just feel an overwhelming warmth, and comfort.

I am amongst strong Muslim women.

When most people see a woman wearing a hijab - they rarely realize that under that piece of cloth is a brilliant mind, often an amazing character, some mind-blowing talent or some combination of all three. Yes, they cover their heads, are watchful of their behavior, and have their gaze lowered - but a piece of cloth will not stop them from being the brilliant people that they are. The next time you see a muhajjiba, notice they're smiling, they're laughing, and chatting with their friends; they might be at the mall, or on the mall. They shop at Banana Republic, enjoy chilling at a good coffeeshop, and can ball with the best of them. They're white water rafting, scuba diving, and wake boarding; jumping off piers when the opportunity presents itself. They balance the deen with their lives, and oh - what exciting lives they lead. Their strength, beauty and grace lies beyond just what people see ... and all too many people don't realize what they're missing.

Every time I get together with these amazing women, I realize again and again just how lucky I am. I have been blessed with the presence of more than my fair share of wonderful, intelligent, witty, warm, loving, and beyond anything - strong women in my life. Photographers/filmmakers, social workers, librarians, journalists, doctors, lawyers, teachers, AmeriCorp volunteers, consultants, scholars, mothers ... and all, my sisters. There are times, such as right now, when I am absolutely overwhelmed by the fact that I am a part of such an amazing community. Alhamdullilah.

My strong Muslim sisters ... I pray that Allah keeps you strong. You make me strive to do better, to work harder and I am proud to walk amongst you, for you humble me and inspire me with your determination and dedication. I pray that one day, I may be as strong as you. InshaAllah.

*clarification by a trusted friend as I can't seem to find a definition/translation.

Email/IM killed the conversation?

I sometimes wonder what the impact of the internet revolution is on social interaction, although I rarely think about it in such technical terms. I've noticed that often times I am much more comfortable talking to people over IM or email (or even on the phone) rather than in person (with exceptions of course). Sometimes this situation gets so awkward that face-to-face conversations are weird and I want them to end quickly. However, IM/email is so much easier. I can choose to respond to an IM immediately or, if I'm doing something else, turn to it in several moments when my mind is more clear. Same goes for email, although I tend to respond immediately and in multiple emails because I'm generally trigger happy.

Why does this matter? I wonder if all this technology is making us more and more secluded ... does it make us less adaptable to social situations? Does it make us more socially awkward because we are used to expressing our emotions in terms of smiley faces and "lol"s - even when we're not really laughing out loud? Do we not have the ability to gracefully exit a conversation without the "brb" tool? Does everyone REALLY need to have access to me all the time? More importantly, do I really need to have access to everyone all the time?

I wonder - can I survive a full 24hours without the incredible urge to check email or voicemail?

I admit, I am addicted to AIM and google-talk. While I do love the accessibility that technology has to offer - for one it makes it easier to be away from home and family - I sometimes yearn to meet a friend after a week or two, or even a weekend ... to ask them, "what's up" without having spoken to them on IM hours (or perhaps minutes?) earlier, knowing full well whats up.

Favorites

Best part about being back in DC? Being within minutes of my two favorite coffeeshops - Politics and Prose (Connecticut Ave) and Murky Coffee (Arlington). I'm just finishing up the last of a most excellent latte from Murky Coffee, and I'm torn as to which has better coffee ... *sigh, its tough to be me.