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looking for the one who knows …

I am looking for the one who knows.

I need to consult him to get the answers to some very important questions.

Coming back home from the Islamic center, after the martyrs of Karbala majlis, I was feeling bruised all over.  Like my soul was hunched over with helplessness. In such situations I go quietly somewhere deep inside me and think – not in words but images.

In this year’s Chehlam majlis someone read  something in the end that was just pure grief and nothing else. The prophet’s family released from the prison and having the first ever majlis for their martyrs; visiting their dead, visiting the battle ground, visiting the river Euphrates. Calling their sons, and brothers their fathers and husbands, their children and getting only the swirling sands of the desert sending their wailing in reply.

Half way to our home, my inner conversation ended . My mind had gone numb.  Then slowly a question came out of the fog.

” why, but why Allah? you never once tried to intervene? Didn’t you know what was happening? what was going on? never once, never once you did something to help them.  There was a lot more that I hurled at my creator because I was hurting inside.

I am familiar with this line of thought, and I have grappled with such questions many times before and somewhat, have satisfied myself, with my reasoning but that nauha was absolutely heart rending and like a small child I was throwing a tantrum. I knew that, but I  was not willing to stop it.

” Why is he not letting us go” someone in the car said. I came out of my reverie and looked up with real eyes this time … without any blinders of my thoughts.  A truck , right ahead of us was moving slowly. I leaned to my right to see what was in front of the truck that was not letting it go faster. Nothing, there was nothing  in its way. I looked up again at the truck. This time I saw it.  Right in the middle of its back wall There were some highlighted words:

“ALWAYS  CONSULT  THE  ONE  WHO  KNOWS”

Whatever was holding the truck back got out of the way and the truck gathered its speed.

I reeled back in my seat.

 

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romance …

 

My mother used to read A.R Khatoon and Fatima Surriya’s novels. Novels dealing in love, romance, home politics, mischief makers, misunderstandings. Then problems solved, wrinkles ironed out , shaadi, biyah and  happy ever afters.  She absolutely loved them all.

There were two times in twenty four hours when she was sure to be found on her huge four poster, reclining against two big bolsters, a plush throw in winter, a light, cotton chaador in summer covering her. A book in hand she be deeply engrossed. There was never a “do not disturb” sign outside her door but every one knew that if she was reading a book,  then that was certainly not a good time to disturb her. Her hero and heroin might be entangled in some family web and suffering. Or some khudaaii foujdaar throwing his weight around making life miserable for these two love puppies.

A happy ending always brought a lovely smile on her face. Satisfied she would take a deep breath, like sending good vibes to all the dimensions of her inner world.  Next day a new book would be sitting on her bedside table.

Romance was still alive and kicking when we grew up. Shaadi biyah mein we were allowed to have make up.  bn-na  sanwarna  acha  lgta  tha. Cousins ka tarrna and shrarti seetiyan bjana was endearing.  Their looking for any silly excuse to come and talk was also a feel good feeling.  This was our romance.   Innocent and silly !

We grew up, got married, raised families. Made new friends, many acquaintances. New places, new people. In my case, this ‘ new places, new people ‘ scenario was repeated many times. I always take it as a learning process – a gift from life itself.

In one of the places my next door neighbors were an older, Indian couple. Their daughter-in-law was a very quiet, reserved type young girl. Hardly ever made any friends. I was the exception. In fact she once confessed softly that she loved talking to me.

Once, she talked about a girl she knew in college who , when her time for marriage came, told her parents that she had some condition for her future husband. Like :

‘ he should not be the oldest or the youngest son. What ever I cook, he would eat without any objection, he would not force me to wear usski psnd ka color or clothes. If I wanted to see a movie and he did not. I will not force him to come with me. I will go alone or with a friend. He will not object to that. He should be either a doctor or an engineer and he would  never leave India for any other country, no matter however much big a salary he would draw.’

There was no mention of love or romance or some measly flirtation in this list. We both agreed that that was just plain madness.

Years passed. We entered a new phase.

Now things seem to have moved in another direction. Recently I came across a young girl in a party. She was on our table and was friends with one of the people on this table, who I knew. During this small talk hour, I got another enlightening revelation. The girl was talking to her friend but speaking loud enough for all of us around the table to hear.

“ … oh who has time for romance? Friends get together in a restaurant or a movie theater and have fun. Enjoy the company. Now who wants to be tied down so early in life? Who likes commitments and duties and blah, blah, blah. No madam, no sirree – not me. Definitely not me. She laughed then with a serious face – continued,

Roses, and love letters or mushy poems? No, no, no. Actually if anyone did that to me, I would report him to the authorities that some psycho is stalking me.

No love? no shaadi? I asked. But  please don’t think I am a match maker. I quickly added.

“No I will get married when I am ready to settle down.”

“Ready to settle down, how about love, romance?”

“Who said that for getting married you have to have a love affair first? Actually that is the worst time to get married because  both the parties are going through a sickness – hormonal sickness. Their brains are mushy, their thinking is all wrong.

Marriage is a serious matter and a life partner should be decided with caution and care. A well placed, person, a well planned family.  No one in his / her right mind would want to see their children deprived of anything. Heck no one would want the children to be the outcome of your personal, sexual gratification. Period.

There you go!!  Mama are you listening?  Romance just flew out the window!!

 

 

 

 

 

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happy birthday to me …

The second day of December.

kicking, crying, Spluttering and more crying, I said hello to the world on this day.

“Oh my ! Its a girl” Ms. Alexandar – my doctor beamed.
A third girl in a row. But there were also three boys already gracing the family so no one mind this arrival.

So today is my birthday and I am sitting alone at the breakfast table, looking into my tea cup and thinking about my mama. As long as she lived, she never missed nmaz e shukrana and baking a lovely tasting cake for each one of her seven children on their birthdays.

I think I will make another cup of tea for myself.
This one probably tastes salty.

December, 2, 2013
9:14 Morning.

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words do not feel …

So the first ten days of Mah e Muharram came and now, are gone. Last night was Shab-e-Ashoor and tonight we call this night “Shaam-e- GhreebaaN”. Can anyone explain, define relate what exactly a Sham-e-GhreebaaN is? No matter how much we try, we cannot – just cannot know or visualize what happened there !! We read, we hear but they are just words. Only words and words only tell what happened. Words do not feel.

On the tenth day we do not eat or drink almost all day, do not smile or greet any one. We spend the day mourning like someone near and dear had died. Our little girl all grim faced and disheveled tells me that today she would not say salaam to me because on this day there was no ‘salaamti’ on earth – because some bad people killed our Prophet’s grandson.

We cry, grieve, lament but what happened centuries ago, happens again – yes, happens each year over again; and Shaam-e-GhreebaaN arrives when all the male members of the house of the Prophet are lying around killed and mutilated. There is the smell of fire in the air – the tents are burning. Deathly silence reigns.

Then we come home leaving some frightened and scared widows and orphaned children, sitting huddled together on the sands of Karbala …

Sometimes the helpless mind stands stunned, unable to decide what is more heart wrenching! A day of killing and plundering or a night when a bunch of destitute women and children – hungry and thirsty, just sit numbed beyond all imagination!

11/14/2014
(10th Moharram al Haram)

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seeker seeks …

Yesterday, went to a friend’s house on the other side of the town. She was having a Majlis-e- A’zaiy Hussain A.S at her house. Met many good friends after a long time. This is the beauty of these mehfils. They are a renewal of the faith and belief – a reminder to follow the path that the infallibles showed us.  They not only bring us together at one place but also give a feeling of ‘being’ together, closer and bonded.
This was in the afternoon so by the time I came back home it was quite late and I couldn’t go to the Center for the nightly majlis. I tried to find something online to make up for the loss.
I watched two 45 minute each mjaalis in Saraiki – which is a Multan / Bahawalnagar dialect. I love this language. I was just a little girl when I first fell in love with the way it sounds. I remember a zakirah coming to my mamun’s house on Jail Road, every Mah e Muharram and reciting in Saraiki … five mjaalis every year. In Mochi Gate also, in one of the Imam-bargaahs a zakir e Hussain A.S would deliver the Zikr in Saraiki. No one paid attention to a seven year old girl, sitting wide eyed closer to the partition and savoring each word coming out of the zakir’s mouth.
And then I grew up and the magic got lost. Life !!
After listening to these beautiful Zikr, I found another gem.  Ahle-Baiyt TV’s recording of a talk show where Shaheed Sibt e Ja’far Zaidi gave a talk on tradition, mhasin, timings and meanings of soz, salaam, marciya and manqabat and so much more … reciting his own klaam  – a small part of marciya or soz in between.  Listening to him was a kind of ‘gift’- I would say.
When the heart cries out, yearning for some answers, Allah in His own mysterious ways, gives the seeker what he seeks.
11/ 12/ 13
11:08 AM
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fall is here …

It is that time of the year again. Dry, cold winds singing an autumn sonata … a song of separation making you go deeper, looking for lost times.

A mist hanging in the air like a curtain  and a night bird whispering a name over and over again.

Go to sleep. It is time to dream the dreams!

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richer …

“I’ve got nothing to do today but smile.”
― Paul Simon

Yes, nothing to do except going through old times, old friends – connections! Its rewarding, its hilarious a little sad, a lot of good will !

How silly one could get! Arguments for no good reason – getting angry, not talking, vowing to never even say hello and then one of the two would relent and send an olive branch. Again talking, sharing… laughing, suggesting. But that does not make it a romantic connection – just something special!. It happens when minds match, eyes look in the same direction- one says something and the other thinks ‘oh, that was exactly what I was going to say ‘ Does it sound all made up? No it does not. Because it happens.

Then somewhere something goes wrong – an unfortunate word, a rash remark, a care two hoots behavior and that brings down everything. The magic disappears. Whatever it was, has run its course.

” We meet, we feel the spell
and linger there
Then by the by …. ”

Got the picture?

And so we go our way, but not empty handed.  A lot richer in many ways.

Sept.4, 2013
Evening.

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september …

I love the month of September. There are birthdays, anniversaries, important landmarks and the start of fall season! What more one would ask for fun and happiness?

This ninth sign of the Astrological year is Virgo and when I think of a Virgo, I always think of Sapphire – a gem that is said to represent the purity of the soul – that happens to be lucky for those born in September

I start this month celebrating my younger son’s birthday…. I sometime wonder what did I do that was extra good to be rewarded with him. He has a gentle soul with much charm. If you bring ” quiet dignity, appetite for learning, being stylishly unassuming and concern for health and fitness in one person, you would be looking at him.

There are more birthdays – that is – two nephews, a daughter-in-law, a dear friend’s daughter and then three wedding anniversaries – including mine phew !! quite a busy month to make one bankrupt!

Be happy and healthy and enjoy your day!
I love you all !

September, 1, 2013

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hope follows …

 Angry times are here.  Yes, these are angry times.  and I do not see them leaving any time soon.  Judgmental rulings are passed freely. If I say that every one thinks that what he/she is saying is the only truth, then I too would be joining the ranks of those so called self righteous   ‘personalities’. No sir. I am pretty sure I would be the last person standing who would do that. I read such writings and break into hives.  I mean why judge others instead of saving your breath for a better cause. Sitting down and issuing “fatwas” is easy but getting off your rump and going out, doing something nice and constructive and not for showing off purposes is what leaves a lasting impression and infuses goodwill and a desire to do the same. Criticizing others has never been constructive.  It breeds resentment that later is let out on some other easy target and so this vicious circle or chain comes into being – becomes endless! 

Do we love to hurt others?  Well that’s not good if we do. It should be love, love and love.  Spread the message of love and hope will follow. I know in present day scenario, it sounds childish. But why not. We all love children … ours as well as others. Don’t we? why do we have to prove that we are this and that know all people.

A friend’s mother-in-law once said something that has stayed with me ever since.  She said, ” people are like children.  If you respect a child – no matter how small he was –  you will be doing a favor to yourself – yes; to yourself. Because tomorrow he is going to grow up and be strong and mighty. It will be his time … a payback time in the nicer sense of the words. He will love you, if you loved him.  He will respect you if you treated  him with respect; and he will always come to you for your ‘words’  if you had paid attention to what he wanted to say or tell you.

whenever I see a large body of people, listening to the speaker, I think  I am looking at a group of children, only they are a little bigger but their needs are the same. They need respect, they need love and if they have that and not just empty words, hope is sure to follow. These are three factors that bind us to each other.

I am sure all this sounds childish to you – well, maybe.  But I know one thing for sure that this is what I have practiced all my life.

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stay safe …

 
” Khamoshi is sometimes the indicative of lack of interest and approaching ‘end season’. After that, still trying to hang on would be called – pathetic. You would need a head exam. So better run in the opposite direction if you wanted to save some shards of self respect.

Better say salaam, collect your things, sling the ‘gutthri’ of your belongings on your shoulder and leave while you can – resp…ectfully. Don’t think that receiving a two liner, a cliché, a blase’ attempt to hint on affection had any deep meanings – ever. Realize and believe this all has lost its ‘sweet nothings’ status. It does not affect you any more like it used to. Forget that you used to read such messages with tears in your eyes. Forget that you used to pray to your Deities for his love and attention.
Stop being a door mat. Stop. Period. ”

This is a very familiar base to build something on it. In fact stories like these are a dozen a dime. I am not a psychotherapist but I Know it when someone needs help. Sometimes I even sat myself up for something that was bothering me and don’t leave till I have some insight into the matter. My mum used to say that there was some ‘khalul of dimagh” that I was suffering from. Rest in peace mama, I think this is the best ability that my Allah make me have it. I am not one of those who start doing ‘ hai, hai, around any problem, big or small.

I wouldn’t say my life was a smoothe sailing. Every relationship has teething problems in the beginning and goes through ups and downs to finally get to a solid ground.

Does infatuation also go the same route? No, I don’t think so. Its totally a different ball game. No reasoning of any kind would work until you yourself would open your eyes and arrive to a place called ‘sanity’ ! and if you have ‘ that’ in you, a cliché, a two liner bakwas, a blase’ attempt to hint on an affection that never was there in the first place – would do that for you.

Stay safe.

August,7, 2013
9:42 in the morning.