I remember her!

There was this girl in my childhood. It has been ages since I last talked to her. I don't know what became of her. We used to be very close. She shared everything with me. She used to believe that one day the world would know that she was a fairy because she would make everyone happy by waving her magic wand and granting everyone their wishes. She wanted to see everyone happy. All she cared for was others. Her thoughts, her own wishes and her life revolved around others.

One time I asked her about her desires. She started telling me about her family and what she wanted for them. I insisted and inquired about her own personal wishes. What did she want or intended to do for herself? She was at a loss. She could not find an answer to what she longed for. I was a bit surprised because she was a hardworking girl with a good sense of right and wrong. I had thought that she would give me a long list of things but instead all she came up was that she wanted to make her parents and family happy by her conduct because that would make her God happy!

She loved God from childhood. Growing up in close proximity to the holy places, this was not an unusual thing. I think all my childhood friends were God fearing, obedient to parents children who respected their adults. But she was unique because she was so close to me. She loved to share everything with me. She had a pure heart that did not know how to hate or keep a grudge. She could cry easily but she did not like crying in front of others. She was too proud to show her weaknesses. She would always run to the restroom to cry behind locked doors. I often saw her swollen eyes the morning after she had cried over someone else's heartache. She always cried for others. Even for the ones who were not close to her.

She did not merely cried for others. She always tried to ease their pain as well. I saw her endless efforts to help others. Many would never know how she tried to remove misunderstandings between them or made things work for them. It was just not her nature to boast or show off. Still, often her efforts were noticed and appreciated. She was no back bencher. She was popular and under spot light most of the time in life!

We never thought of parting while growing up. This is one of the blessings of childhood. One believes in stability and magic but then life happens. Life happened to us too! I got married and lost touch with her. As I moved to States, I missed her terribly. I tried to keep ties with her but the distances were too great and painful. Keeping connection with her was extremely difficult. It hurt if I did not get in touch with her but talking to her would made me crave and miss her even more! I realized that I would have to let her go to adjust with my new reality and that's when I made this promise!

I promised myself that I would become so busy in my life that there would be no time for her. I would not allow her memory to haunt me...and that's exactly what I did! I got busy. In the process I became a machine. I never reflected back on our friendship. I never thought of whatever happened to that little girl who never would let her hair down. The sound of whose scream or laughter was never heard by others because she was too proper to ever allow that. Who watched every step and corrected every way. Did she change over time? Was she even alive? I realized that I had buried her in my thoughts. I had killed her!

All these years I had never thought about her but today she resurfaced in my thoughts. I have no idea what prompted it but I do want to remember her today! Surprisingly I don't want to get in touch with her! Finding her should not be very difficult with Internet, social media and the availability of so many other search engines but I don't have a desire to find her. I just want to recall the past experience of knowing her. I want to remember her the way she was.....UNCHANGED, UNTARNISHED, PURE!

Honey Dipped Sweet Voices!

Honey dipped sweet voices!
They repulse me.
But not all of them. There are some that are addicting to me!

There are two kinds of soft speaking people. Genuine and fake but don't confuse them as diamonds and zircons because to me, even a zircon has its own beauty and a diamond is simply an overpriced, shrewdly marketed beautiful coal. Genuinely nice and pretentious people are more like real and fake pearls. One can scratch a real pearl with a knife and it won't damage the luster while the skin of a fake one peels off. There are people who are pure like bona fide pearls, who are born with this natural beauty which shines through their personality. Their gentle nature cannot imagine of hurting a person even in their dreams. Such people gain automatic respect among their peers and good will in the long run. They are usually not prominent players in general, taking a back seat and preferring a mellow lifestyle.

The fake people copy them to gain the same respect and goodwill but their nature is  exactly like fake pearls. The softness is only for the show while inside is entirely different substance. Just like the customers of fake pearls, many people are fooled by the outward appearances of fake people because they do not let anyone see their fangs. They are very cunning people and thrive on cut throat competitions but shroud all this in a sweetness which they wear like a mink coat in winter. The coat is pretty but is bloody.

The fake people are not brave which is an attribute of true people. This lack of bravery is not like the mellowness of genuinely gentle people. The fake ones bide their time and back stab. They won't even openly gossip or backbite because that would mean to come out of their shell. They look for opportunities to help others start rifts and quarrels. They rarely start a fire themselves but always help others start one while they add fuel. Their desire to appear genuine makes them weigh every word they speak (it also helps them to keep track of their lies), hence a soft tone! They usually beat around the bush if questioned about their decisions because they never reveal their inner intents.

I have even met some very religious (or appearing to be so) people who had a lot of general respect but they failed to inspire such in me. I noticed that they never completely lied but never told the truth either. They deceived people. They usually stated lies in a way that they were half truths. Their talks were ambiguous which always left room for modifications. In the beginning, I tried respecting them but my heart refused. Later I could find clash and duality in their conducts and I understood what my heart felt. Some may call it intuition!

The sweet voice of genuine people is a melody that soothes my heart and consoles my soul while there are sweet voices that make me cringe. They are so fake and ostentatious that I want to close my ears. I would rather hear a voice that might be harsh but free of all pretensions.

Be Happy!

I admire people with positive attitudes!
I think we all are capable of having it. It's in our hands to make or spoil a moment. It all depends upon our attitude. The glass is always half full if half empty!

Keeping an optimistic view when weighed down by hardships is the real test of people. It's a general concept that success is accompanied with happiness but I've come across people who have the ability to spoil even those moments. I remember one time I congratulated a friend on his promotion and instead of being happy, he snickered that what good that promotion was if the salary was only marginally increased? I was shocked by his reply and felt sorry for his attitude. He was spoiling a perfect opportunity of being happy.

This friend is not a sole example. There are many people in my life who simply refuse to be happy. It's not the lack of occasions but their attitude that's the root cause. I've observed this behavior more often in the Eastern cultures than in the West. The concept of "bad eye" breeds the intent to hide happiness which nourishes this attitude. People are wary of sharing their achievements and joys. The desire to avert jealousies gives rise to secrecy which in its turn brings in suspicion and mistrust. These concepts are universal but their magnitude is way smaller in the West because of personal freedoms.

People suspect ulterior motives if they see someone genuinely celebrating another person's happiness. I remember another time with another friend! Her friend's child had made remarkable achievement and although I had never met the person, I felt ecstatic for his personal success. My friend who was very close to that person scornfully told me, "You might know how to celebrate others' happiness but I don't!"


It's been years since she said those words to me but they stayed with me. Over the years I've seen her go through various degrees of sadness and depression with my own failed attempts to teach her that happiness is very easily attainable! It depends upon our own attitude and outlook. Life is a mix of disappointments and achievements. Maybe more of the former than the latter but we will never be out of joy if we learn to be happy for others. Imagine our world if we ALL learned and adopted this habit!



 

Human & Humanity!

Every effort should be exerted to prevent mistakes from happening but mistakes do happen!

What counts is the repentance and the resolve to correct and not to repeat!

Demolish the walls!

I've often found people building walls around them to protect their loved ones but it only brings stress and breeds depression.

We need to share our emotions to feel loved.

Oh, The Shame!

Oh, the shame!

It reminded me of my SHAME!

Imran khan lost the election in May 2013. 

There was a huge uproar in the intellectual class and youth of Pakistan who were all rooting for him. They had not even remotely considered the possibility of a defeat thinking victory was their right as majority of them were casting their votes for the first time and deserved the applause.

I do not participate in Politics. Politicians and politics repulse me with their dirty antics but it does not mean that I do not care. I do cast my vote as a responsible citizen and have my opinions. In general, I prefer to stay neutral but the situation in Pakistan often break my resolve not to speak up.

I watched the hysteria spread like wildfire among the educated class in Pakistan as the election results were finalized. I had earnestly prayed for my fears to be baseless and my secret predictions to be false. I did like Imran Khan and considered him a better candidate among others although a bit inexperienced and found his dreams unrealistic. But unlike the educated masses, his failure did not surprise me. Neither did the accusations of a rigging during vote casting that followed.

I wanted to scream at those so called educated class as to why were they surprised? I wanted to actually tell them that it was their own doing. They were accusing the system, the people in power, the people in positions, the people with money, etc. I wanted to tell them that no one else was to be blamed but they, themselves. The fault lied with them. They were part of the same system they were trying to blame. Yes, they were trying to bring out a change, but they were changing a face, not the system. They were not changing themselves.

They talk about rigging!

Let me tell you about rigging!

I was in my masters.

Pakistan was my homeland but foreign to me as I grew up abroad and had recently returned there for higher education.

Our junior class was planning a farewell party for the seniors.

Almost ninety percent of my MS class was male and my female peers made up a small minority. Although there was no segregation, the female students always sat at the front, keeping distance from the opposite gender.

None of the female students wanted to be part of the farewell party preparations. Their excuse being that they came from very conservative back grounds or that they were not comfortable being on or near a stage.

Although I grew up in a very strict and segregated country, I had no reservations working with boys. I knew that I could hold my own among both genders. I gladly accepted the responsibility of being the program host on the stage.

Everything seemed to be going fine till the very last minute. Everyone had gathered and were seated  in the grand hall. I was about to go on the stage to start the program when the lead organizing boys stopped me and handed me a piece of paper with three names written on it. They told me to announce those names as the winners when a drawing would be made at the end of the program. I was stunned beyond belief!  Never in my life before I had ever done or even come close to any such thing. It was absolute cheating. I refused and tore down the paper.

I felt self elation on the righteous act and prided myself on putting sense into them and stopping those boys from committing a wrongful act. The program went smoothly. The time for the drawing came up. A boy held the jar full of slips with the names of all the seniors while another boy made the draw and brought the slip to me. Enthusiastically I looked at the paper he had placed on the dice in front of me and horror hit me! Like an expert conman, he had switched the paper and the slip that faced me had not one but three names written on it! The same three names with the numbers one two and three written to indicate the order!

I felt paralyzed. Part of me wanted to disclose to the whole audience the con. I looked up at the upturned faces and the realization hit me. If I decided to reveal the treachery, no one in that audience was going to be surprised. They all expected to be cheated, lied to and made fool of. It was the system and they were part of that system. I was only going to bring out their contempt for me if I dared ruin the evening for them.  May be it was this realization or may be because I felt like an absolute stranger in my own homeland but my strength failed me and I announced the first name in a trance. 

The remainder of the evening was spent in a daze. I watched myself role play from a distance while my mind, logic, and thoughts refused to cooperate with me. Inside, I felt like dying of shame. The shame of being part of such treachery. My heart and mind were screamingly asking me only one question; If universities were training grounds for grooming minds for a bright future of a country, just how were these young adults going to be a bright future of Pakistan?

 

Wrote this blog on Wednesday, Aug, 21, 2013

U are who U are...so own that personality & rock the world!

The nature of a person never changes!

We all change over time but our true self remains the same. Each and every person in the world is a unique individual, having a specific fingerprint but we can categorize the personalities. Some are leaders while others are followers. Some are stern while others are mellow. Some are carefree while others are cautious.... There are endless such categories with extremes and varying degrees in between. Everyone has a piece of each category to make a complete whole but the largest part gets to decide the sort of personality that person owns.

None of the categories is either good or bad. These categories are personal traits. How one uses these traits to make a life decides the sort of a person s/he is! Hitler was a born leader and an intelligent man but he used his qualities for hatred and destruction of millions. Nelson Mandela was not a very big built man but he made history through his strength. He endured prison but did not let that chain his heart in hatred. He ruled hearts of millions in love.

The traits do not make us who we are, our choices do! We all have to decide what kind of a person we want to be in life. If a person chooses to be bad, no one can change that. Same way, nothing or no one can change a person's resolve to be good. All religious people would tell you that their faith system teaches moral values and peace. Piety and purely are associated with religious people yet we sometimes see the religious people do evil to others. It is not the religion, but a person's own choice to use religion as an excuse to hate others. A true person of faith is too busy fearing God and focusing on his/her own conduct rather than judging others. This world is big enough for all of us to coexist in peace if we would just let it be!

Our personalities are a combination of all different traits with some more dominant than others. Knowledge and wisdom help us decide how to control and utilize these traits. We should understand our personalities and make peace with them. Fighting one's nature, to me, is such a waste of precious time and resources because none of the traits by nature are bad. Acceptance means to realize one's own potential and use it for the good. Everyone is capable of contributing their share of good. If we all did that, the world would be such a better place!

Cherish the important relationships in life!

Go build your own destiny my friend!

The Crime & Punishment!

The shiny car with the latest model suddenly stopped with a screech. The elderly man on the bike right behind tried to stop but his bike skidded and hit the bumper of the BMW. The poor old man hit the trunk of the car flying off his bike and fell face down on the concrete surface of the road. He struggled to push himself up with a bleeding forehead while the owner of the car jumped out from the driving seat.

The owner attired in a sharp cut business suit rushed to the kneeling old man still struggling to get up. I thought he was going to help the old guy but I was in for a shock! The young man in his late twenties started yelling at the old man at the top of his voice. I could not understand a single word of what he was saying but I needed no translation. His tone, pointing finger and waving gestures conveyed it all! He was accusing the old man for hitting his car.

I watched the whole scene in stunned silence from a distance. No one even bothered to stop. The cars rushed by and pedestrians went on throwing a few uninterested glances. The old man finally manage to stand up on his shaking legs and stood there with a bent head that was still bleeding while the young man made his angry dance. He was obviously outraged for the damage to his car. I tried looking for that damage but there was no visible signs. The old man stood there in an apologetic posture and that's when it struck me!

It was not the old man's fault but he was sorry. He was apologetic for his poverty! The young man was in the wrong. He had abruptly stopped the car, causing the whole scene. There was no obvious damage to his car yet he was yelling! He was angry because he could! He had the power! The power of money!
 
I observed this scene in China but the sad part is that it could've been any one of the countries in Asia. Such a scene is so common in that part of the world that people were surprised as to why did I even notice or bothered to discuss it! Unfortunately class system rule large in many Asian countries where living in disgrace is the punishment for the crime of being poor! There is no respect for human rights in those societies. Might is still right there.

Life, too, is a classroom!

Sleepless Nights!

Why is it that I fight the urge to sleep?
What keeps me away from the comfort of sleep?
Way too tired...true...beyond the point of exhaustion...
I should go to sleep!
Why don't I?

Am I weird?
But wait!
I observe this phenomena all across the globe!
I don't know if they are tired or not but I do know they work hard, yet, they are up till the wee hours at night!
How I know?
Thanks to social media!
I see my friends on line three, four in the morning and I wonder, what's going on?
What has taken our sleep away?

Again, I don't know about others, but I can reflect on my own thoughts.
I don't want to hit that bed ...
Because...
It will mean an end to another day!
It's like I'm denying the fact that today is gone!
No, it's not because another day in my life has shortened.
No, I'm not that scared of getting old or dying, etc. It will happen with the will of God whenever and however it's decreed.

I do not want today to end...
Because...
Tomorrow will be another whole new day of all new hard work, effort and tiredness!

The Twins!

Zuni and Zubi were fraternal twins that were inseparable in life. It was like they did not need anyone else in their close world where they were best of friends, companions, helpers and friends. They did have other friends but no one else could ever come close to the bond that they shared together. Not only did they enjoy each other's company but did everything together as well. People were so used to their togetherness that their names became one identity. It was always Zuni Zubi for everyone as if it was one single name instead of two.

The first shock came when Zuni got married in the second year of college. They had never anticipated a life without each other. Somehow, in their minds, they were going to marry two twins and live together as a combined family. It was a rude awakening when their parents accepted a proposal for Zuni. For the first time in their lives, they were not getting or sharing identical things. As the wedding date approached, the differences became even more prominent. They were both  apprehensive about the life after that wedding but Zuni looked forward to it while Zubi dreaded it. The former was walking into a new path of life where a new partner awaited him while the latter felt as if she was losing someone dear and was being replaced in her sister's life.

Zubi fainted when Zuni left on her wedding day. The following time period was of great adjustment for both but especially for Zubi who went into deep depression. Gradually, Zubi accepted the reality and absorbed herself in studies. Needless to say that it was a very slow process accompanied by a lot of pain and tears. Zuni also missed Zubi but that gap was somewhat filled by her husband's love. Zubi, on the other hand, had mixed feelings. She was happy for her sister's blissful marriage yet her yearning for her constant company overshadowed that happiness.

Their parents thought that the best solution was to find a suitor for Zubi. They tried their best but unfortunately they could not find anyone. Time went by and years passed. Zuni became a mother of two beautiful boys in three years. The babies helped Zubi come back to normality. She dotted on her nephews and never missed any opportunity at babysitting them.

Five years after Zuni's marriage, their parents found someone for Zubi. The guy lived in Germany. Zubi who fainted at her sister's marriage who was going to live in the same city, flew off to Germany after her own marriage. Life took a new turn but by now she was much mature and handled the new situation very wisely. It was not before five years down the road that she next saw Zuni on her visit to Pakistan. The two sisters could not believe how life had separated them and put distances between them. When Zubi's visit came to an end, the bitter reality faced the sisters once again. They had no idea when would they be able to see each other next time. In those emotionally laden moments, the sisters made a pact. They promised to marry Zuni's older son to Zubi's daughter on their growing up.

Time passed. Zubi went to Pakistan after another five years with her daughter once but after that although she went every two years, she went by herself as her daughter got busy in school and activities. The children grew up knowing the engagement and seemed to accept the idea pretty well although there was not much communication between them.

After her daughter's graduation, Zubi went to Pakistan with her daughter and husband where her daughter got married to Zuni's son. The sisters were ecstatic and the couple was happy. The groom came back with Zubi to settle down in Germany. The newly weds got an apartment on the other side of the city to start their new life.

The trouble soon followed. Zubi's nephew was still trying to find a job while her daughter was attending college and working part time. Money was not a serious problem since both parents were still giving them an allowance. The main issue was the gap in their mind sets. It was a clash of the East and West. He had never been outside his country before marriage while she was born and raised outside Pakistan. Germany was her homeland. Her husband thought she was too liberal. He did not understand her late study and working hours. He objected to her friendship with male classmates. She thought he was way too conservative, demanding and non cooperative. He expected her to cook and take care of the household chores while she demanded that he do all that since he was the one mostly home.

Zubi came to know about the tensions between them. She tried talking to both but found that both were headstrong and did not want her interference, so she backed off. She was fully aware of the cultural differences and was mentally prepared for an initial adjustment period between the couple. She kept an eye on them from a distance and with an increasing degree of concern, watched the situation escalate. Still, she was not prepared for what happened next. One evening her daughter came to her house crying with bruises on her face and body. He had raised his hand on her daughter!

Only Zubi knew how she managed to stop her husband who wanted to kill the man in the initial rage. Once in control, he insisted on sending the guy to prison by informing the authorities. Zubi was also deeply hurt and wanted to punish him but then remembering her sister and her own previous love for this nephew, she talked sense into her husband and daughter. They filed for divorce and he flew back to his homeland.

Zubi's family decided to put this tragedy behind as a nightmare and move on. It was not easy but the short duration of that unfit marriage turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Things got even better when her daughter got remarried within a year to her former schoolmate whose parents were also first generation immigrants from Pakistan. They found out that the guy liked her since school days but kept it a secret knowing that she was already engagement.

The smile on her daughter's face and the laughter in her life made Zubi forget about the rift between her and her sister.  A year after the second marriage, her daughter became pregnant. Everything looked rosy but destiny had something else up her sleeve.In the seventh month of pregnancy her daughter's appendix ruptured and she died on the way to the hospital along with the baby!

Zubi never went back to Pakistan ever again nor did she ever saw her sister again in her life. The sisters who were once inseparable and tried uniting their children hoping to commemorate their love, died without ever talking to each other after the incident while the cruel destiny silently watched her doing from a distance!

A Firm Belief!

Picture taken from Internet 

I don't remember what year it was! I was a child running for my life. I managed to turn my head without breaking the momentum of my frantic speed. There was a sea of people following me with varying expressions of worry, scare and concern. Reaching the sky behind that crowd was the giant monster!

We were in a tent in Mina during Hajj when my mother suddenly picked up my brother in her lap and holding my hand in one hand and my sister's in the other started running out of that tent. On the way out, I noticed that we were not the only ones. Everyone was doing the same. Once outside our tent, we became part of a madly running crowd of people. An onlooker would have had difficulty recognizing a loved one in that crowd of millions, all wearing white. The faces, ages, races and backgrounds were blurred in the moment. Everyone was merely a person trying to escape that monster of a fire that started in a tent.

In those days, almost every year there was a fire incident during Hajj despite all the efforts. Mina is called a city of tents. Throughout the year, the place is an empty valley with surrounding hills. One a regular day it is difficult to imagine that this valley can accommodate more than five million people but it does! Every year during Hajj season the place comes to life with rows of white tents. These days there are hardly any fire incidents (thank God) as individuals are not allowed to do private cooking and the tents are also fire proof but such was not the case in the year I'm talking about. The fire started and spread within minutes and panic ensued.

I could smell the fire and see the flying ashes and debris of burning tents before I actually saw that monster. Yes, that's how the fire appeared to me. A towering orange and yellow monster advancing towards us with outstretched hands that seemed to grab everything in its path.

As I looked behind me at that hungry monster, I had no doubt that it had consumed our tent in its stride. While clutching my mother's hand and running at a speed that I did not know I was capable of, there was only one question in my mind. Shouting above the  deafening noise of running feet, screams, and hissing of burning flames, I asked my mother where my father was. He had gone to sacrifice the lambs, one of the ritual of Hajj. My mother had no answer. All she could shout was that Allah will protect him and asked me to pray for his safety.

I have no idea how long we ran. There was no sense of direction or time. We were just running. Our number one concern was not to lose leach other. I had heard so many tales of people getting lost and never found or found dead that I could not let go of my mother's hand even after we finally were able to stop. Out of breath and exhausted, I could barely make sense of the talk around me that the fire was finally extinguished. There were helicopters crowding the sky and fire engines everywhere.

Slowly, after a long time, we started retreating our steps like the rest. People were going back to check the damage. My mother has an excellent sense of direction and courage. I saw an example of it that day. In a city of white tents where many veterans lose their sense of direction, she was able to lead us right back to our tent and miraculously it was intact, untouched by that monster of a fire. The fire had stopped a block before the compound of our tent area. The remnants of burnt tent pieces were scattered in our tent compound that wind had carried over there. There was shock, disbelief and gratitude written all over faces and in hearts. My father was already there with a panicked expression on his face. He had been worried sick about our safety. Many tents were consumed by fire and many lives were lost that day.

I can still smell the burn, feel the scorching heat and see the ugly monstrous face of that fire in my mind whenever I think of that day but there is also a rejuvenated sense of one belief. This childhood incident gave me this unshakeable belief that no one can ever harm us or benefit us if God does not allow it! I was one hundred percent sure that day that the fire had consumed our tent but God saved it for us. In millions of people where so many lost their belongings or their way, we were saved. The fire came so close to us but we were saved. My father was away while my mother ran with three small kids but we were saved and reunited. It was not our doing. It was all Almighty. He saved us. He protected us. HE PROTECTS US!

What do you do when you feel that certain way?

It takes a lot for me to be envious of someone. It is usually a fleeting emotion on the rare occasions when I do feel envy. I consider it a huge blessing and some might envy me for that but the truth is that it is a learned attitude. Someone very righteous, very dear, taught me how to overcome any feelings in life.

I was a teenager when it happened one day. My father's close friend back stabbed him. His right was denied to him by the hand of his own friend. I was boiling with rage but my father quietly went about the daily routine. He used to take short afternoon naps. That day, as he retired to his room after lunch, I followed him after a while doubting that he would be able to sleep. The door was open and he was lying on his back with arms folded over his eyes. As I was about to turn, he called me in with his usual sweet smile and soft voice. I sat down next to him and finally gathered my wits to ask him the question that was on my mind for some time.

I asked him if he ever felt angry or close to loosing his temper because I had never seen him retaliate to any personal hurt. I asked if he did not feel any negative emotion at all. He smiled his most affectionate smile and patted my head in his most familiar gesture and said, "My dearest daughter, perhaps I feel anger more than all of you. Perhaps the rage that rises in my heart is stronger than any of you have ever felt! My dearer than life daughter, I feel it strongly but then, it is at this precise moment that I know what I need to do. It will not mean anything if I do not feel the anger but it does mean a lot when I do and then decide how to react upon it! When I get angry I remember that Islam teaches patience. My religion teaches me to control my emotions. So, my sweetest child, I feel rage and all those emotions but the intensity of my own emotions remind me to practice restraint taught by our religion. Remember, this is what the religion is for...to be practiced!"

It's been years since I had this conversation with my dad and a long time since he passed away but the echo of his words never dies in my heart. It is my guiding light. I may wander off now and then but it never stops sending signals and brining me home.

And The Train Left...

Recently I was left behind on a subway station when the train door closed while my husband had stepped in. I gestured to him that I'll stay where I was. We were in a foreign country with no friends or relatives. No one spoke English or our language and we did not know their's either. Our destination was at least twenty plus stations away with an exchange of trains in between and I did not want to get lost.

I turned and eagerly watched the oncoming trains, waiting for my husband to come fetch me. While standing there I remembered another incident many years ago...

I was in fifth grade and visiting my uncle with my family in Europe when the same thing happened. Everyone was inside when the train door closed. I saw my uncle's hand trying to convey a message. I did not understand what he was trying to say. I had two options. Go or stay! I was very familiar with the route, a fact that my uncle also knew quite well. I could easily reach the destination. Was that what my uncle was trying to say? Follow them in the next train? Or did he want me to stay put? I had no idea. I almost felt like getting into the next train but something in my heart said that they would come back and fetch me. I know my family. The thought of not going back was something they would not harbor and sure shot, right there was my uncle coming out of the next train. Everyone else waited at the next stop while he returned to come escort me. I felt so secure knowing my instincts were right and joy coursed through my veins at seeing the relief on the faces of my family as they saw me disembark from that train with my uncle. I can never forget that experience.

I could still smile remembering that childhood moment as I stood there waiting for my husband but I felt very out of place in that foreign land by myself. My eyes searched impatiently the sea of unfamiliar faces coming out of the sliding doors to find that one familiar face. I felt such surge of love for my husband that I was quite sure I'd run into his arms the minute I'd see him. I looked frantically at each emerging face in both directions from every approaching train. Time seemed to lengthen and then drag. I lost count of the number of trains after a while ...but there was no sign of him.

Finally it dawned on me that he was not coming back thinking that I would follow him by a train. The novelty of the idea felt like a punch. I could not digest the fact that he would do so and more than that it was so beyond my own comprehension. So many years and still we did not understand each other's signals! By that time forty five minutes had elapsed and I knew that he would be about to reach the destination. I had a cell phone but he never carries one. What if I started and he decided to return after realizing that I had not followed? Again, I had to decide what to do! I opted to wait. It seemed a much safer alternative.

I finally sat down on a chair with my aching legs. My phone rang. It was his colleague calling to find out where I was. He had called her from the destination using a phone booth, asking her to call me! To make it short, a couple of more phone calls from her and we decided that I'd stay there while he'd come fetch me.

My feelings had a roller coaster ride while I tried to keep a grip on myself as I sat there waiting for him, mentally and emotionally exhausted. The initial surge of love had turned to bewilderment which gave way to astonishment, anger, rage, disappointment, loneliness and finally the worst of them all, self pity. My whole life with my husband flashed through my mind in those two hours with special focus on disappointments. I had much difficulty remembering the jolly times in those moments.

It was not a very big or unusual incident but the timing, place and my own ability to misjudge the situation unnerved me. I thought of some other times and it appeared to me as if my life was like a train passing through a long black tunnel, so long that no light appeared at the end. I felt really down and let down but then I remembered that I had crossed many such tunnels and there was always an exit from each one. Life is a train ride with changing scenery at every moment and yes there are dark tunnels and passages but what really matters is the ride. With all our misunderstandings, differences and let downs what really mattered at the end was that we cared, we loved and we were committed to that love. The love mattered! The commitment mattered and WE mattered to each other! The rest was trivial.

I did run into his arms when he finally arrived there after more than two hours!

I Love Control!

I like being in control! Before you start judging me, first hear me out.

There are two kinds of people with control. The ones who are in control and then there are controlling people. Do not confuse them as one since both are very different sorts of people with entirely different mind sets. Controlling people want things done their way. They are the manipulators. They can be hypocrites too. They are usually selfish and self centered people. They rarely care about others and always control the ones in their lives. They like to dictate if in power, but can be puppet masters working behind the scenes as well. Whether explicit or implicit, their conduct revolves around making others bend to their wishes.

The people in control, on the other hand, are the ones who exert control over themselves and through that they are able to manage any situation. They can be compassionate leaders in power and contended quiet souls in general. Often times, this inner calm and contentment impress others who look up to them in awe. This awe leads to envy and jealousy at times. All they see is the control in such situations. They fail to see its source. The source is the inner contentment. Some are born with it but anyone can achieve it through practice. Religion and moral values preach this kind of control. The purpose of this control is not to have power over others but rather self restraint.

Self restraint is an exercise that needs routine and discipline to bear fruit. In an era where fruits are being quickly ripened by artificial means, majority fails to practice patience. They want instant results at all costs. People want peace and associate it with control but fail to realize that it is the self control and not the control over others that brings this peace. Patience needs to be learned, practiced and implemented for this purpose. And yes, I desire and want this kind of control!  

Sexual Freedom & the institution of Marriage!

Sex!
The mere mention of the word gets the attention. In many Eastern societies it's still a taboo to discuss sex in public while West flaunts it openly. Internet has opened wide many vestibules of awareness everywhere. Sex, sexuality, sex appeal, phone sex, sexting....there are so many related terms that are floating around. A flood of wanted and unwanted information is sweeping the majority off their feet while a minority is struggling to stand against the torrential currents.

Lets face it! The very first relation formed between humans on earth was sexual. I was questioned once if I believed that Adam and Eve were married. I do. What is marriage? Marriage is a bond between two human beings (traditionally and religiously, between a man and a woman) in which they commit to one another. So yes, by all definitions, Adam and Eve were husband and wife.

Sex is a relationship that becomes sacred through the institution of marriage. Outside the sanctity of marriage, the same relationship becomes a sin as adultery or fornication, (even among consenting adults) and a crime as pedophilia or rape.

Sex is a basic human need. Like all needs, it is a human weakness. Weaknesses need to be guarded and watched carefully under all circumstances. In case of humans, Satan is our eternal enemy. He is always searching for human weaknesses. Religion and societies use marriage to secure this weakness. It is not a hundred percent guaranteed solution but it does work most of the time. Marriage is the legal freedom for the partners involved to fulfill their needs. It brings in responsibility and consequences.

Marriage is a bond and human nature is to go for freedom. Actually, human nature is for submission...submission to the Creator, God, but since God has given humans free will to choose, and respite to Satan whose mission is to misguide as many humans as he can, Satan allures humans away from submission to God's laws. Satan was even able to convince Adam and Eve to go against the only restriction imposed on them in the Heaven. Here, on earth, sex is Satan's number one weakness in humans to go after. He uses lust to take away rational thinking from sane humans.

The very first crime committed on earth involved sex. Cain killed Abel for sexual lust. Since then, Satan has used this human weakness as a favorite device to mislead humans. Sexual freedom is always accompanied by moral degradation. Every society, regardless of religious views, agrees upon setting some sort of standards for sexual freedom. Monogamist or polygamist, every nation promotes marriage.

Sexual freedom is still not prevalent in the Eastern societies where family, culture and social pressures keep a tight rein on individual conduct. A lot goes under the table, but at least on the surface, moral grounds are saved. The hippie era brought a flood of sexual experimentation in the West and swept away many moral values. In the name of freedom, the institution of marriage was greatly compromised. Scarlet letter became a medal instead of shame.

A society impetuously bent on promoting self gratification is not willing to teach moral values, religion or self control. Self restraint is considered anti freedom. No one remembers that it's not the first time in history that humans have taken to this road. Every civilization experimented with sexual freedom before it's doom. History is witness to that. Religious books chronicle it. Our conscious tells it.

Surprisingly it's okay for the society if a school hands out condoms to thirteen year old students but scandalous to get thirteen year olds married. The argument is that marriage is a big responsibility and sex is their natural need. Whoa!!! Right there, the society is setting double standards and messing up with nature. The message is to give in to the need, the weakness. It is teaching the young adults to ditch responsibility.

The result is evident everywhere. High schools have daycare centers for the babies of teenage students. Of course the mothers are the ones whose lives get altered for ever as fathers usually disappear in such cases. The welfare system is over burdened by the number of children born out of wedlock to teenage girls. Still the society is reluctant to talk about abstinence!

The broken family system, high divorce rate and dysfunctional families is giving rise to depression, bitterness and mental illnesses. The main victim of the casualty of marriage institution is children. A strong family structure and both parents are needed to raise confident and secure children. As I mentioned in an earlier blog http://shamsasays.blogspot.com/2013/09/its-your-responsibility.html, parents are the ones who are going to set an example for the kids.

The institution of marriage needs to be saved. The young adults need to be taught self control to safeguard their weaknesses. Religion and moral values should be taught. The concept of family, responsibility and consequences should be instilled to secure the future of humanity.

People...they intrigue me!

I travel around the world and meet complete strangers. I don't speak their language and they don't know my customs. Their habits, their life styles and their values vary according to region and religion. They are different individuals practicing various  traditions. They are all unique and different yet there is so much that is common and similar.

Human values and behavior intrigue me! I find it fascinating how honor and integrity has universal appeal. A smile has its own language that even an infant understands and responds to. A frown, an angry voice or a sharp look can alert a person regardless of what language (s)he speaks. Dignity, good manners, soft tone of voice and sophistication don't need any interpreter to inspire awe. Human kindness is a language understood by all.

I love people and they hold my interest. They are complex beings. During my travels, I've met many people, good and bad, but no one is absolute bad or entirely good.They are a mixture. They have different shades of character, some darker, some lighter. The shade of a color they show to another individual varies and depends upon their relationship with that individual and at the moment. Hence, sometimes it's very difficult to categorize them. Even a hard core criminal may show the kindest of emotions and sometimes the gentlest of persons may act most selfishly under a situation.

I see people act differently with different individuals and under different situations and find it extremely difficult to dislike anyone. I can never hate anyone but there are some people in my life who have let me down. I don't think that the people who let me down were bad people. Maybe they were not good for/ towards me but I'm sure that there are people for whom they were very nice and good. Same way, there are people who are very good for me but others may not like them. It's okay.

We all know about chemistry between people. I call it aura. We all have auras around us. We sense it without seeing it. Some call it energy. With some people, no matter how much we try, the chemistry does not work. We feel that negative aura around them, that repels us. The people whose chemistry match, feel a pull towards each other. Their personalities click instantly. This reaction to auras is reflected in the body language.

One can observe this even in children. Actually, children, untainted by learned reflexes, show the best evidence of it. I've witnessed some very shy toddlers bond instantly with complete strangers. On the other hand, many social ones stay away from apparently friendly persons. Overall, since humans are a mix of different traits, we get mixed signals and it takes us time to figure out their auras and ultimately the terms of relationship with them. Once in a while, we cross paths with someone whose personality or aura has a very strong appeal or repulsion for us. They catch our instant attention. Our senses are alerted. Some may call it the sixth sense. We fall in love, form friendships or instant dislikes for such people. If the circumstances or time don't allow a relationship to develop, the persons go away but leave behind a strong memory of that moment, that look, that exchange, that touch....that feeling.

Pure White!

The thought of her reminds me of pure white fresh snow! I don't know her name. I think no one knows her name. Regardless of relation or age, everyone called her Mami Ji, an alias, meaning maternal uncle's wife.

She was born in a Sikh family before India divided into Bhaarat and Pakistan. One day, sometime before the partition and independence of India from Britian in 1947, she walked into a mosque as a young teenage girl to accept Islam. She informed the Imam of the mosque that her house was adjacent to the mosque from where she could hear the Friday sermons. The sermons and their messages inspired her to learn more about Islam. She started learning about the religion on her own and from her Muslim friends. Every Friday, she would wait impatiently for the call to Friday prayer so that she could listen and learn more from the sermon.

She told the Imam that she was not going back home as her parents had given up on her after a lot of trauma and show downs. They had even raised their hands on her and as a last resort were going to marry her off to a Sikh. They gave her the choice to leave the house after she threatened them with suicide in case of a forced marriage.

She accepted Islam and found asylum with the Imam's family in his one room house. That was the time period when Hindu Muslim tensions had just started to brew and Muslims in India were beginning to migrate towards west that later became Pakistan. Muslims, in general, were worried and confused about the over all situation. Futures were insecure and uncertain. Suspicion and doubt were budding in the hearts of neighbors and friends and amongst all this, this young courageous girl had left her family, converted to a minority religion and desperately needed protection. The Imam, himself could not afford to help her for long with his meager income and large family.

The Imam made announcements in the mosque explaining her situation and asking for someone to give her protection through marriage. People were not thinking about marriages in the unstable political situation prevalent throughout the country, plus there was no one available of marriageable age at the moment. Being a minority and conscious of protecting their values, most Muslim families used to get their children engaged and  married at a very young age.

The Imam kept on announcing each day but no one came forward until one day my maternal grandfather's uncle stepped forward. He was already married with kids. His wife was friends with the Imam's wife and had come to know about the whole situation. After observing and analyzing the whole situation, this God fearing woman had asked her own husband to marry this girl to give her protection. She knew that there was no unmarried Muslim man available in the small community and no other woman would be willing to share her husband with another woman. The marriage took place and shortly after that, the whole family with both wives migrated to Pakistan where they had many relatives, including my maternal grandfather.

She lived in Pakistan with her husband, the other wife and children. She went for Hajj with them in the coming years. She never saw her blood relatives or her birthplace ever again. Years later, I met her in my childhood. By this time, she was all white haired. Her husband and the other wife who were quite older than her had perished. She never got to have children of her own. The only relatives she had were through her marriage to her husband. She had no house and no property of her own but every household and every relative loved her like their own. She did not live at a one single place but stayed short periods with different relatives. Everyone competed to host her. She carried a single suitcase that accommodated her entire possessions which were a few change of clothes and some personal hygiene items.

She had no blood ties to anyone but she won hearts. She never asked for anything, always giving. I remember a very cold night, my mother's grandmother had to fetch something from a spare room that was across the courtyard. Everyone hesitated to leave the comfort of the warm cozy living room but Mami Ji immediately offered to accompany her without a second thought.

Her small purse was always full of goodies for small children that she would get from the small allowance she got. She was always distributing these small treats among children. I don't remember a single time when I saw her and she did not give me a candy, an orange or some other such thing. She was always praying if she was not helping others or distributing goodies among children. A smile always played on her lips.

I don't remember if I ever saw her wearing any color. She always wore white. In her white clothes and white hair she looked like an angel. The pure white fresh snow of each winter reminds me of her.

The Miserable People!

I never knew that they existed till much later in life. May be I was lucky enough or maybe I grew up in a very protected, loving environment, but its a fact that I had no experience in dealings with unhappy people. I was caught quite off guard when I met them after I stepped into my practical life. At first I could not figure out why they were so unhappy. To me, they were blessed with a lot in their lives. They had many things that people could only wish for, yet they were not satisfied at all. 

In my inexperienced ways, I tried to change them. I remember making a fool of myself as I tried to make them count the blessings in their lives. The futility of my own efforts bewildered me and infuriated them. I could not understand why there was no happiness in their hearts, homes or lives. When I tried talking to them, they gave me various reasons which were all lame excuses.

Yes, they were all excuses for not being happy because I finally understood what their real problem was! They were rigid, uncompromising people. They were miserable because they were not going to give room to anyone in their lives. They had closed their hearts tight shut like windowless prisons where no ray of sunshine could ever reach to bring the joy of happiness. Yes, they laughed, but only at the fulfillment of their own selfish desires. It was a hollow laughter and the echo of this empty sound terrified them. They hated everyone else. This hatred filled their hearts, crept into their homes and spilled over to their lives. They dwelled in the darkness of their own hate for others. They spent lifetimes plotting and ill wishing others. The success, achievement and happiness of others brought misery to them. They were willing to spend every waking moment in the misery but were unwilling to make any compromises, because a compromise meant compassion for others, of which they had none.

Only A Mother!

Only a Mother!

I was in eighth grade when I had to stay home for a few days due to sickness. I remember it like yesterday. I felt very sorry for my mom doing all the house work. In Saudi Arabia, a woman cannot drive or travel in taxi by herself. She has to be accompanied by a chaperone whenever she steps outside the safety of her household. We had temporary household help who would come weekly but rest of the time my mom did everything. Those were the days when eating outside was considered a luxury reserved for special occasions. The aristocratic families did not like to eat outside on regular basis. 

Mom cooked everything from the scratch. Cooking South Asian Pakistani dishes in Saudi Arabia in those days was very difficult as the needed groceries were not available anywhere and were imported from Pakistan and rationed over the months.

That week when I had to stay home during week days, I realized just how much work she did. Not only she cooked from the scratch, she kept the kitchen spotless while doing that. She had everything ready and the table set for all before they reached home. There were a million other household chores she did whole day and she did all that with a smile and occasional SINGING. 

I noticed all that lying in my bed and felt very sorry for not volunteering enough help to her in the past. I made a resolution that I will try my best to be more helpful in future. Once, I was out of bed, back to school, routine kicked in and that resolution got shelved.

Years later, Mom came to States for the birth of my first child. I had not seen her for over a year and my excitement knew no bounds on the thought of seeing her after such a long time. I remembered my resolution that got shelved so many years ago. I could empathize with her situation a lot as a married woman living in a foreign land. I made a fresh resolution that I would not let Mom work while visiting me. She was not as young as she used to be and she had worked very hard for us. It was about time that we gave her some relief. 

Mom came and I had my first child. Mom cooked all the traditional dishes considered "beneficial" for a new mother. She brought trays up to my bedroom for straight ten days as she would not let me walk the stairs. She insisted that I rest. She is the one who gave the first bath and took care of my newly born child. Lying in my bed, I promised myself that once I regain my strength, I would not let her do anything. 

A week before her departure, while freezing the batch of more than a hundred samosas Mom had made, I caught myself asking her if she would make her special Kabobs for me!  My cupboard was already full with tightly packed jars of things that she had prepared to last for months and there was hardly any room left in the freezer after all the dishes that she had prepared and stored for me.

I tried to feel guilty remembering my broken resolve and promise of not letting her do anything but I could not. My heart said if not her then whom? I asked her without a shred of remorse because I knew that she was the only one in the whole entire universe to whom I could and she would do it wholeheartedly. Only a mom can do what no one else can.There is absolutely no relation like a Mom. There is no one like a Mom because God did not make anyone else like a Mom.

Satisfaction in my life!

Someone asked me earlier in the day if I was satisfied in life!

Got me thinking!

What do we mean by satisfaction?

In general it means pleasure attained at the fulfillment of a desire. The problem is that human desires are never ending which means that a complete state of satisfaction can never be achieved. This quest for mysterious unknown is inherent in human nature. Even Adam & Eve were not completely satisfied in the bliss of Heaven. They wanted to taste the unknown. They had a desire for more. And here lies the key answer. This relentless race after self gratification is the ultimate doom. One has to watch out for it and draw the limits because there is no end to this road.

Coming back to my answer to the question that I was asked.

To me, my personal satisfaction lies in knowing that I did what I possibly could in my life. My satisfaction does not depend upon whether I get the end result or not but rather on whether I put in all efforts or not. This thinking is deep rooted in my belief that what I get at the end is ALWAYS going to be what was THE best suited for me because it was chosen for me by my God. I do not believe that what I get is really my own doing. Yes I do the effort, because it is my duty to do so, but after exerting my best efforts, I accept destiny as it is decreed.

My satisfaction lies in my faith. The belief in my God, the knowledge that He is closer to me than my Jugular vein and the fact that every thing is in His power and He is Omnipresent and the most Forgiving, brings satisfaction to my heart. Turning to Him, rendering all my needs to him and accepting His mercy provides me with the peace of mind.

Yes, I am very satisfied in my life. This does not mean that I always got what I wanted. No, it means that when I look back, I have no regrets and have accepted what my God provided, with gratitude. I've always tried my best under the circumstances. If I made mistakes or sinned, they were not intentional and I repented and tried my best not to repeat them. I'm not perfect. No one is! I am a weak person and my God knows my weaknesses and He is the most Merciful and I rely on His generosity.

Dissatisfied people yearn to change the past. I never wish to change anything in the past because I live in the moment. Dwelling in something that is impossible is a complete waste of time and time is precious! I can use this time to make a better past for tomorrow. I lived and am living my life with the understanding that it is a loaned gift from God. I love my God and everything that He gives me and this love is my satisfaction.

The Human Agility!

The Human ability, my own ability to adjust, modify and improvise amazes me!

I grew up in a joint family system. My parents' house doors were always open for family and friends. Our house was the gathering place for all relatives. Not for a single hour I was ever alone or by myself. Always surrounded by company, I grew up under watchful eyes and guiding advices of my elders. I'm no exception. It's a common thing in the Eastern cultures where family is everything. Well, at least till recent past because the western influence and individualism is catching up and spreading like virus in the East as well.

Quite recently I had to be alone by myself for two weeks. Like I said, I had never before in my life been absolutely alone for a long period of time. My kids, though babies were always with me when my husband was away in the past. This time, no one was there, not even my children. Although this solitude was temporary and just for a short time, it still bothered me a bit.

I thought that I'd spend this time getting busy in my daily routine but I was in for a big surprise. What I had not expected was my own reaction to this solitude. The house seemed so empty that silence seemed to talk. I was taking care of the daily routine but there was a gnawing feeling that I had to do something more. I had to utilize this time. Suddenly there was plenty of time! And freedom! It was up to me how to make use of this newly found time and I found myself doing things that I had not envisioned doing ever!

 I went hiking for the first time by myself and trekked along new paths at unfamiliar places. It's not like me at all! I have never done things like that previously. I was amused at this need to fill the empty feeling by getting involved in new activities. It was as if I was challenging my own agility and the beauty of it all was that I was discovering my own ability with a sense that I could still learn, adapt, change and improvise.This is a human ability that we all have within us and I love it! It gives me insight into human survival.