You know you're addicted to your pocket PC when you start a chat conversation on your desktop and stop at, "Assa" waiting for the AutoComplete to finish the greeting for you.
An Itch
I have this urge to send a truckload of postcards with, 'Wish you were here' scribbled on the back to so many people right now. To mail them these cards and magically have them travel this way, this much, with me.
Predictably Home
Predictable is hearing Baji beat eggs over the phone and knowing it's a Sunday morning in FL and she's making the sweet omelet for Bhaijan.
It's Ami getting someone's name wrong when narrating an incident and even telling a joke all wrong.
Home is Ami laughing while she's telling a joke because she knows she might mess up any minute.
Home is also Abu quipping in his version of the Indian soap Ami is watching so intently. As is Ami's promise to return the favor the next time Abu tunes into the news.
Home is both Baji and Omar Bhai accidentally calling out my name before their chidrens' when they're up to their usual mischief.
It's SMSing a hug to Mayyam and getting one back almost immediately.
Predictable is Billie saying, 'Qasam se' or, 'Seriously!' to every 'Nahin yaar!'
It's knowing Maina, Afshan and Nazia will go out of their ways to respond to a call for help despite the distance from myself.
It's having to know that we need not catch up.
It's squeezing in rushed conversation with Rabia and feeling great afterwards, everytime.
Predictable is knowing Zairah will coo back a hello when I call her in a sing-song voice. For her to carry poignant memories of my past as if they were her own.
It's Halima being flaky on popular request.
Ashi, sobering up to be more a sister than a friend.
Homeis Ryz woh na telling me something I want to hear before gliding into what he wants to share with me. Ryz returning my coy girl routine with a cheesy line that breaks a previous record set by himself.
Peter Pan
Part of the weaning process involves myself not sleeping in Ami's room when Abu's out of town. Insha Allah this move will help my weaning and hers as well.
Amusing Ourselves to Death
Lately the news on local television channels made me think the same about our culture. I was fortunate enough to recognize the emergence of desensitization and empathy caused by media in the West because of my frequent visits, and also because I was not a resident and I could in turn assess the situation objectively.
Reading the following excerpt from "Amusing Ourselves to Death: Public Discourse in the Age of Show Business" by Neil Postman brought the eddy of all those thoughts of discontention to words. I possibly could not agree more. Read, "A Brave New World" if you haven't already.
Amusing Ourselves to Death: an excerpt
"We were keeping our eye on 1984. When the year came and the prophecy didn't, thoughtful Americans sang softly in praise of themselves. The roots of liberal democracy had held. Wherever else the terror had happened, we, at least, had not been visited by Orwellian nightmares.
But we had forgotten that alongside Orwell's dark vision, there was another - slightly older, slightly less well known, equally chilling: Aldous Huxley's Brave New World. Contrary to common belief even among the educated, Huxley and Orwell did not prophesy the same thing. Orwell warns that we will be overcome by an externally imposed oppression. But in Huxley's vision, no Big Brother is required to deprive people of their autonomy, maturity and history. As he saw it, people will come to love their oppression, to adore the technologies that undo their capacities to think.
What Orwell feared were those who would ban books. What Huxley feared was that there would be no reason to ban a book, for there would be no one who wanted to read one. Orwell feared those who would deprive us of information. Huxley feared those who would give us so much that we would be reduced to passivity and egoism. Orwell feared that the truth would be concealed from us. Huxley feared the truth would be drownd in a sea of irrelevance. Orwell feared we would become a captive culture. Huxley feared we would become a trivial culture, preoccupied with some equivalent of the feelies, the orgy porgy, and the centrifugal bumblepuppy. As Huxley remarked in Brave New World Revisited, the civil libertarians and rationalists who are ever on the alert to oppose tyranny "failed to take into account man's almost infinite appetite for distractions". In 1984, Huxley added, people are controlled by inflicting pain. In Brave New World, they are controlled by inflicting pleasure. In short, Orwell feared that what we hate will ruin us. Huxley feared that what we love will ruin us.
This book is about the possibility that Huxley, not Orwell, was right."
Disdain
When, when, when will I learn to not look closely at roadkill lying in my path while driving?
Swindled
is finding a hollow, squishy Malteser in an anticipated packet of crispy rewards following a long week.
Medicare
About a month ago I read about a man who lay awake during his own brain surgery. The details of the case can be found here.
Call me one with limited perception and concentration skills, I just can't think beyond learning the fact that a retired truck driver in Australia can enjoy such health benefits, masha Allah.
Hershey Says
For the likes of the Halimas and the Ryzvans of the world - for Halima, who shook her head on finding words such as, "thingamajig" in the autocomplete feature of my phone, and for Ryzvan who tolerantly nodded his head each time I made up words such as these, words he magically understood as well.
Halima and Ryzvan: in your faces.
A Test
I wonder whether I can customize the appearance of a post through my email.
Red.
Bold and pink.
Halima Blue.
Ryz.
Fever
I bought a book because Ethan Hawke wrote it. I saw the cover and WHAM! was reminded of the days of "Reality Bites", of "Great Expectations" and most importantly, of "Before Sunrise."
To read a book should be an experience of its own. Hopefully if it's terrible, I'll finally get over that fluttery-butterfly phase that I had managed to drag all the way from my teenage, until realization yesterday.
Common Sense, for God's Sake
The voice of David AS glorifying Allah by reading out the Psalms does not equal the use of musical instruments. A voice and an instrument are not the same.
If one really were to follow the example of David AS, then there would be musical accompaniment with the recitation of the Quran, but everyone agrees that would be disrespectful and plainly wrong.
Also, David AS fasted every other day, i.e. half the year. I'd like to tell that to the people who're only too keen on "following his example." Try matching his amount of taqwa before addressing other issues.
Volume 3, Book 31, Number 200:Narrated 'Abdullah bin 'Amr bin Al-'As:
The Prophet said to me, "You fast daily all the year and pray every night all the night?" I replied in the affirmative. The Prophet said, "If you keep on doing this, your eyes will become weak and your body will get tired. He who fasts all the year is as he who did not fast at all. The fasting of three days (a month) will be equal to the tasting of the whole year." I replied, "I have the power for more than this." The Prophet said, "Then fast like the fasting of David who used to fast on alternate days and would never flee from the battle field, on meeting the enemy.
Volume 3, Book 31, Number 201:
Narrated 'Abdullah bin 'Amr:
Allah's Apostle was informed about my fasts, and he came to me and I spread for him a leather cushion stuffed with palm fires, but he sat on the ground and the cushion remained between me and him, and then he said, "Isn't it sufficient for you to fast three days a month?" I replied, "O Allah's Apostle! (I can fast more)." He said, "Five?" I replied, "O Allah's Apostle! (I can fast more)." He said, "Seven?" I replied, "O Allah's Apostle! (I can fast more)." He said, "Nine (days per month)?" I replied, "O Allah's Apostle! (I can fast more)" He said, "Eleven (days per month)?" And then the Prophet said, "There is no fast superior to that of the Prophet David it was for half of the year. So, fast on alternate days."
(taken from Sahih Bukhari)
The Kite Runner
So much for goofing around while watching, "Killing Jane." I saw the beginning of a trailer that showed two middle-Eastern boys sitting as friends would and I said, "The Kite Runner" and grabbed Afshan's hand. Amazing how I stumbled upon the trailer of the movie I would not have never read the written version of, had it not been for the love of the person who was squeezing my hand ever so tight throughout the length of the trailer. The trailer I could not have possibly sit through alone.
From hearing my favorite words in the morning, to being humbly reminded of tawwakal nearing evening, Allah Subhana Wa Ta'ala had sure been Generous about His signs to me today.
Rediscovery
My dentist told me to use a super-soft toothbrush for the area he operated on a week ago. I chose a pink colored baby toothbrush with Minnie's ears drawn all over it.
What's in a Number?
My cellphone carrier now offers, "Islamic Services" that include being able to listen to the "Quran, Hadith, Hamd, Naat, Qawali and much more" on my phone.
Somehow I lost track of the Islamic bit after Hamd and Naat.
Or was it when I realized that I can get all these "Islamic Services" by dialing 786? I forget.
Thinking Chair
Halima was over at my place and lounging on my bed with myself sitting on my green sofa. It was then that I realized something and told her that our sitting this way was an extremely rare occassion. She asked why and I answered that I wasn't sure when both of us would be home in Karachi from Lahore at the same time again.
The next day, both Maryam and Halima were over and I had another thought. With Zairah being busy with Ibrahim and Mehreen in CA, it would just be the three of us spending time this way. Until the next year, as Halima duly reminded me.
Next year. I want Afshan and Nazia over right now just thinking of it.
Emotional Hypochondria At Its Best
As soon as Ryzvan signed in from work today, I asked him something that both of us would describe as a, "raat-khanay-ke-liye-kya-pakaoon?" while-at work kind of question: untimely, unnecessary and irrelevant.
Funny thing is, I had realized just how wifey I am capable of sounding as soon as I had asked that particular thing, and alhamdo lillah he was honest enough to reply that it's a question he really cannot answer as well as I could; and so I breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. He's as honest as I'd like him to be and alhamdo lillah, more honest than I wouldn't on certain occassions. That, and I made a mental note of checking myself before interrupting his work to ask him something.
Such are the fringe benefits of being friends long before anything else - the emotional hypochondria which makes me sense his reaction to a general situation, even when I am the one creating it for him, and effectively admitting to the sheer silliness of the matter. Alhamdo lillah for honesty and all its instances.
For the Want of Intellectual Stimuli
I was flipping channels on television when I tuned into a children's quiz show on one of our local channels. Seeing Aamir Saleem the singer sit as one of the guests amongst the audience of children made me suddenly wonder the last time I saw someone other than a singer or a musician as a guest for a children's show.
I don't see any authors, I don't even see any actors. I don't see any soldiers, policemen, pilots or any other role models except for singers in childrens' shows.
Talking to Halima about the same, she pointed out that a possible reason why could be that children do not think much about the kinds of people I just mentioned, which brings the argument round to the starting point: children don't think of such people as interesting because such people are not introduced to children with the same razzle dazzle as musicians are.
I want to hear about Ibn-e-Insha from people other than my father. If the actual authors are not available, I'd love to hear people talk about their youth that was spent on such authors like Shafeeq-ur-Rehman, Bano Qudsia and even Ghulam Abbas. Or poets like Ahmed Faraz who are given air-time on Begum Nawazish Ali but not asked how the picture of their country has changed over the span of their lifetime.
Personally I know people who belong to the police and armed forces who have extremely interesting thoughts to share and inspire people with. Why limit such occassions to September 6, and even then to remember older patriots and not celebrate the prospect of newer ones, insha Allah. I know for a fact that many young mindsets will be changed if the army and police were represented by those who feel the same glory behind serving their country as myself, you or any other common man would.
I wouldn't even object half as much to musicians being guests at a show (maybe I would, actually) if they presented even a flicker of inspiration through means of dialogue and reflection shared with the children. Instead, all they do is lip-sync or hand out gifts wrapped in shiny green paper.
Children look extremely cute masha Allah, waving our Pakistani flags in glee while hearing their favorite singer singing a well-known national song, but then they might come out associating August 14 with only the song-and-dance routine. Hearing the people who make Pakistan each day the rest of the year is bound to be an inspiration and a less mindless experience.
I love my country, and I am proud to celebrate its existence. I just don't want the idealogy of Pakistan to be reduced to a mere Chinese whisper that loses its weight by the time it has reached the last ear.
Then Which of The Favors of Your Lord Will You Deny?
The next time I think to scrunch my nose at something I may not like to eat, may Allah Remind me of this. Ameen.
Credits to Asma @ Islamabad Metblogs
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