Life as I know it!

LIFE AS I KNOW IT!

Behind the Colorful Blooms

I love my life!
Before you jump to any hasty conclusions and form some colorful opinions green with those envious streaks, let me tell you that by no means I've had an easy life. Over the years, I've had my share of heart aches, heart breaks and heart burns (I swear, they did seem like heart attacks at the time!). Yes, life has not been bed of roses or even of tulips for that matter but I still love it.

I treasure every heart ache, break or burn (mistaken as attack) and cherish them deeply because they made me who I am. Life kept raising the bar to test my metal and I kept on pushing myself to pass those exams. I thought it was life's doing but at the end I realized that it was I, who was setting the limits. I was the one enrolling in those classes, participating or skipping those training exercises or preparing or delaying the examination rooms. True, there were many pop up quizzes and exams along the way (too many to my dismay), but their inclusion was very clearly stated in the syllabus handed out right in the beginning along with the warning that they would show up at the most unexpected of times.
I used to get surprised, baffled and bewildered by unexpected problems that life kept throwing at me in those pop up quizzes or even during scheduled examinations. My frustrations used to know no limits at getting a failed grade after answering every question according to the textbooks. I remember the disappointments at seeing others get the highest marks and positions without any effort, merit or calibre. Life looked so complicated that I would almost come close to not loving it at those times.

Notice that I don't use the word hate because I can never hate life. No matter how cruel, how ruthless, how aloof it may appear at times, I will always love my life because I've come to terms with it. I will never be able to tame it but now, I understand it's nature and my own dependence and attachment to it. It's my need, it's my choice. And it is mine. I will live my life because I love my life.

My Conviction!

MY RESOLVE!

Was it yesterday or the day before when I thought....

I'm in love. 

I'm in love with my husband.

With all his shortcomings, I love him.

I cannot imagine a life without him.

My every thought revolves around him...somehow.

I might feel let down, angry, disappointed....but my every happiness and joy includes him.

And it is a good thing.

To love someone is a good thing.

Love itself is the best thing in the world.

Everything good is based on love.

It has the power to nullify every negativity.

It is the antidote of pain and hurt and bad.

This is my answer to my life.

This is my solution to every negative thing I had to endure in life.

I'll counter disappointment, pain, rejection with love.

This is my conviction.

This is my resolve.

Who can resist that Full Moon?

The Spell of A Full Moon!

The legend runs that a full moon brings out the animal spirit in humans. 

Well, by that definition, I must be a Chameleon! 

Over the years, I've experienced strange emotions run through me while gazing at a full bright moon. At times, I've felt like a deer caught in headlights, frozen at the spot by its dazzling luster. At other times, I've come closer to sprinting like a cat in its magnetic pull. Sometimes, I've gone wild in my imagination as a lion in its daring illumination. 

There were moments when I've wanted to dance like a peacock holding my head high with dignity in its graceful light or stretch my neck to the limit and howl at it like a coyote. And yet, at numerous other times, I've found inner peace like a dove in its pure whiteness...

The thought crossed my mind that either I'm a shape shifting animal or else a Chameleon. But then it dawned on me! The full moon sure brings out an animal in all of us...The Human kind! It brought out my inner self, my raw emotions! It introduced me to who I am!

Regardless of whether I wanted to sing, dance, howl or meditate under the full moon, one thing was for sure. It has never failed to enchant me and that made me think of its relation with and effect on humans.

Moon has always fascinated human fancy. Civilizations as diverse as Mesopotamians and Japanese have worshiped moon as a deity while strong faith systems like Judaism and Islam still  set their calendars according to its cycles. Societies disagree about its gender but each year, millions of infants regardless of gender are named after it, across the globe! 

Seems like no one can escape the magic of a full moon on the fourteenth of a lunar month. It's magnetic pull not only disturbs the ocean waves but also plays havoc on emotional minds. Lovers go crazy, poets run out of ink and painters find heaven in its soft translucent rays.

What is it about this enchanting beauty that catches human attention?

It's nature!

Its nature calling us to look around and find ourselves!

A glance at a full moon is a break from common routine that lures us to pay a little more attention to the nature surrounding us. It's a relief our spirit needs to cleanse itself of artificial regularities. We might forget to pay closer attention to nature, but like a loving mother, she never forgets us. Like a proud heiress, she doesn't shout at us. Instead, she dazzles us by her jewels and remind us to be humble and human.

And she was trapped!

...And 

She Was Trapped!

The woman could see the surprise and a hint of fear in them as his eyes widened and the color in his face changed. She tried to keep a check on her own voice and raging anger while a wave of disappointment engulfed her. The surprised man was caught off guard but she was quite familiar with the whole scenario. She realized with a sickening feeling that once again her fate was sealed and she was entrapped in the cycle.

The expression in his eyes was the same that every woman has encountered whenever she has tried to stand  up for herself. No matter how advanced human societies have become, a strong woman never fails to surprise men by her resilience and her own strength. Her modesty and sacrificing nature is always taken as her weakness and her boldness threatens the traditional thinking of her opposite gender.

Being a woman is hard work but being a strong woman is a real challenge. Not only she has to fight the ugly stereotyping but has to overcome every possible obstacle thrown at her by society, friends and sometimes even her own family.

After the initial shock wears off, she is labeled as a strong person forever which basically seals her fate, marking her as someone who would be above any weakness or need of help in future. From that point onward she would be required to keep on proving her might. Men would be reluctant to offer assistance and women would be wary of her.

From now on, she would enjoy the struggle and tire herself off proving her worth but there would be times when she would feel like shouting at the world not to forget that she was a human, bound to exhaust and in need of companionship. Deep down every strong woman knows that this is the price she has to pay for her strength, every time she stands up for herself and challenges the conventions!

Windows for sale!

  

It hurts when pretty colors bleed

Windows For Sale!

I can NEVER forget that experience!

The time period is mid 2002. My husband and I were both working in France.

We decided to go to Brussels and Amsterdam.

My co worker whom I disliked for his alcoholism and of thinking himself to be God's gift to women, kept insisting that we should go to one of the coffee shops. I kept telling that we were not coffee people. He was relentless that we must go. When I inquired what was so special about it, he said it was a place set up like a bank. You could go to any counter and buy any drug in the world you wanted, by weight. Not the medicine kind, the narcotics kind. Drugs are free and legal in Holland.

I shuddered! 

Why in the world would I go to a place like this.

If I was ever remotely curious, the description more than satisfied my curiosity with a vivid image.

I will never put my foot in a place like this.

I remembered Amsterdam from my past visit as a young teenager with my parents. We had taken the guided tour at that time. I remembered the canals, the windmills, the tulip field and the miniature model of an entire village with live mini trees, plants, streets with lights, running canals and working railroads.

I was excited to go there again with my husband this time.

We were traveling by the Euro rail. 

I noticed  a strange scene from the window of the train.

I observed a woman in one of the small houses. She caught my attention. I do not remember what she was doing. It was not what she was doing that had caught my attention, but, what she was wearing. 

She was almost not wearing anything. She was in her under garments.

Weird, I thought!

This woman is in her under garments during day time. But then I thought that she must not be aware of the fact that people can see her from a passing train and she is, in fact, in the privacy of her home.

But wait....what is this I'm observing???

I saw that in the veranda or balcony of almost every other house, there were women. These women were by themselves, but they were all clad in lingerie!

How odd! I thought! Women in Holland like to be in lingerie in their houses!

But then many Arab women stay in their lingerie during day time.

The difference is that Arab women do not ever step outside looking like that..

But the Netherlands women were doing outside house chores in the yards looking like that!

Hmmmm ...interesting & weird!

So we reached Amsterdam.

We were in a free spirit. Kids were in Pakistan. We were getting a short weekend break from work.
We did not even bring a change of clothes with us. Just a camera bag. 

We were truly being THE tourists :)

We got off from the Euro rail at downtown. I was admiring the new sights of canals and parking lots for the bicycles. I could smell the free, bygone hippie spirit in the air. Excitedly I entered the souvenir shops. There were beautiful colored crystal pieces displayed. I thought of getting one but then postponed as the shape of the pieces did not make sense to me.

I went through the isles. I did not like what I was sensing. There were nude pictures and weird shapes everywhere. Finally, I found something I could buy. The National Monument in the Dam square is a white stone pillar. I collect miniature building models. It would go perfectly with that. I picked it enthusiastically and oh Lord, almost dropped it. Those were not the national monument models. Those were models of male private parts. I felt disgusted. My immediate reaction was....thank God the girls are not here with me. Suddenly I was aware of all different models of male and female private parts. I did not waste any time in leaving that shop.

I went to one after another shop....same thing.

My husband told me the crystal things were for smoking pot.

Yuck, yuck, yuck.

So, I accepted. Holland had the largest legalized red light area in the world. Drugs were legal here. So the downtown was full of erotic stuff. My parents must have avoided the downtown area during my past visit.

My husband told me that across the canal on our left lied the world famous red light district of Amsterdam. 

We reached the Dam square while walking. Nice open place with the Royal palace and Nieuwe Kerk, the new church on one side, the Madame Tussuad's on another and the National Monument on the third side.

We kept strolling after visiting the Madam T's. Some more turns and the scene changed. We were in the heart of the red light area. There was no place to avoid the glance or to protect the sight. If I diverted my gaze from the phallus shaped enormous fountains, it would land on the gigantic mounds of female curves. There were erotic posters, pictures, signs...what not!

I was seeing things without seeing them, like in a trance. Cannot be a reality. But it was real. There were tourists casually walking by. It was broad daylight. Even at this moment, right now, I cannot imagine what the place must look like at night time. Devil's dream house!

I noticed well dressed, actually tuxedo clad businessmen pacing in short spaces. I observed young professional looking girls hurrying in to go places. I saw some of them enter the buildings. I wondered what those executive sort men and women were doing there in the middle of the day. I thought maybe the women were going to offices to earn but were so poor that they lived in such places.

We took some more turns.

What is this?

Is this what I'm really viewing???

There were glass showcase type, full length windows in every narrow house.

And in each window, there was a girl posing provocatively in revealing clothes.

Outside each window, near the entrance door stood a well dressed, tuxedo clad, businessman like person.

Words fail to express the disgust I experienced.

I wanted to burst out crying.

Such degradation!

So much insult of humanity?

What had humans done to fellow humans.

How can a human stoop so low. Human, who was created so pious that angels prostrated down to
him after his completion. What had human done to himself?

The women displaying themselves like meat in the refrigerator were trying to sell their bodies while their pimps were standing outside making sure they did not run away and also to keep an eye on the paying customers. There were people walking around looking at those women caged like animals in a pet shop. Some were going inside the buildings but majority were window shopping. I felt like barfing. I could not glance at a single women in those windows. I felt that if I did, my heart would explode of grief for them. I was so ashamed. My husband was unaware of all this as he was absorbed in the sight all around him. I saw his absorption when I turned to him and urged him to get out of this area.

As I hurried him in a pace that would still not attract too much attention, I was beyond belief disgusted as some of those well groomed pimps tried to usher us in with calls like " hey love birds, wanna have some good times". 

I could not see or hear anything until I was finally out of that dreadful place where there was not a shred of honor, dignity or respect.

I will never forget that experience.

My husband later explained to me that those were called windows for sale. Customers viewed, scrutinized every item available before picking and paying for the satisfaction of their filthy desires. He had not seen the women I had observed during the train ride. Those also belonged to the same category of 

Inventory.

And this is what humans are legally, out in the open capable of!

Imagine the horror of unspeakable, illegal engagements.

God have mercy. God have mercy on all of us. God have mercy on the whole human race. Ameen.

O mother, go bring that Heaven under your feet!

O mother, go bring that Heaven under your feet!

                                           

Growing up I believed and I still, firmly hold on to the famous saying that the Heaven lies under the feet of one's mother. Obedience to the parents, and especially to the mother, was the security check that saved me from walking in the direction of pathway leading to sin, which further confirmed my belief in the famous saying that Heaven lies under a mother's feet. Although I had no doubt that I will not be able to enter Heaven without obeying my parents, something always gnawed at me about this saying. It always felt as if there was much more meaning and depth to it than I was getting out of it.

My thoughts and decisions revolved around this saying and that haunted feeling of further explanation persisted till I became a mother myself and fully understood the deeper meaning.

Yes, it looks like it is directed at the children, and no doubt, that every child should live by it. But, it is much more than that. This saying is also directed at the mother herself. I used to wonder how can Heaven lie under a mother hooked onto drugs? How can one look up to a pedophile mother? A murderer??? But not anymore. I've found the answer.

The Heaven does not lie under the feet of every mother. A mother has to earn that honor. Allah says that a mother is honorable because she carries the child in the belly for nine months, and to me, even that has deeper meaning and knowledge. Today, the science has proven the effects of a mother's behavior during pregnancy on the child. What she eats, drinks, do, even listen to, has a direct effect on the child she carries inside. It is a huge burden to carry! It is not just the weight of the child or nourishing that fetus inside, that we are talking about! It's developing a character even before birth! It is thinking beyond her own self and furnishing a future! The job is so tremendous and so enormous that she climbs a place above Heavens.

I think of the beautiful saying and I tremble. I tremble with fear because it is a grave responsibility which I undertook the minute I decided to bring a human being in this world. I know that I will be questioned about this duty. As a mother, I will not be permitted into the Heaven until I pass the test of motherhood. Just bringing a child into the world is not going to bring that Heaven under my feet. Raising and upbringing that child with the values, along with showing and leading them through my own actions as example, is going to put that Heaven under my feet...under every mother's feet.

So,

O mom,

Wake up!

And go bring that Heaven under your feet!

It needed to be told!

The two women did not notice the tears beings washed away from their faces by the torrential rain as they circumambulated the Kaaba. The older woman was the mother of the younger woman. The mother could not believe that she had finally lost the six months battle with cancer only days ago and death had snatched away her soul mate, her life partner from her. She was not thinking of the long, painful trying moments of past six months. No. All she could think of was the day her world came crashing down when her companion of past thirty two years closed his eyes for good and took his last breath. She could not believe that only two days ago his body was placed right next to the sacred building of Kaaba with two more bodies on his other side while the Imam led the funeral prayer in a cloudy evening. All those endless prayers for his recovery, uncountable moments of hope after hope came to a halt as men took his body on their shoulders to bury him in the ground where Zamzam flew and Adhan of Haram echoed.

She looked at her empty hands and the world looked bleak to her...and tears flowed down her cheeks without a break. She had come out of her house where she was suppose to spend her mourning period of more than three months only to come to Kaaba and do Umrah for her beloved husband. Today she was not paying attention to her daughter who was clutching on to her clothes just like she used to do in her childhood while circumambulating in order not to lose her. Today, she was not thinking of her two sons who were also circumambulating the Kaaba for their father at the same time. Today, she was not a mother or a wife. Today, she was simply a widow! Today, she was a woman who had lost her love to death! She knew that back home guests would be arriving to pray Quran for her deceased husband but today she had to come out and pray for him near Kaaba in Haram.

The rain was pouring down with wind and washing the constant stream of tears off the faces of mother and daughter. To the daughter, each gust of wind felt like a breeze sent down from Heaven. It felt like God was sending His blessings in the form of wind and water as an answer, every time she prayed for her father. She knew God had absolute knowledge of their situation and would take care of them.She knew that her father was at a much better place.  She knew God would send down angels to watch over her mother who had a rough lonely road ahead to travel.

Mother and daughter finished their circumambulation called Tawaf and prayed two units of prayer near the Station of Abraham where the footprints of the great Prophet were enclosed in a glass showcase. How many times the father had protected the daughter by standing against the crushing crowds holding hands with his wife, like a wall, on these grounds. Both mother and father would keep the children in front of them while they would make a semi circle by joining hands and barring any jolting pushes from reaching their children. They had taken all the pressure, pokes and pushes on to themselves and protected their children. Today, the mother was alone! She could not make that semi circle anymore to protect her children. Her children were exposed to the blows of the world.

They drank the holy Zamzam water that erupted as a miracle at the kicking of baby Ishmael and also as an answer to his mother Hagar's prayers. How many times the father had poured Zamzam water for his family? From now on, he would no longer be there with them as a caring figure. Today and in future, they would have to fetch everything for themselves.

With hearts wreathing in pain, both women came to the stairs under the Imam's room. That was the place that had been decided as a meeting spot between the women and the sons. Together, they were going to do Saee, the seven walks between the two hills where Hagar walked millenniums ago in search of water for baby Ishmael. The women waited. The rain was pouring down with no sign of the boys. The mother was getting worried. She knew that despite her situation, she could not be irresponsible. People would be gathering back at her house and the family needed to reach back in time to be with the mourning crowd gathering at her house. 

Moments ticked by with no signs of the boys. The women were soaking wet in the down pour. The mother said to her daughter that the boys must have started the Saee without them as they, too, knew the constraint on time. The daughter thought that her brothers were still not done with Tawaf (circumambulation), although they had waited some good fifteen or so minutes. She wanted to wait some more but the mother's word had always been her command. And today she would have laid down her own life for the mother. She was like a toddler clinging to the mother. She wanted to tell her mother something but she could not. Her mother would not have believed her.

The women started the Saee without the boys because the mother was quite sure that they must have already started it. The daughter kept on looking at every face hoping to see the familiar faces of her brothers in the crowd. The gusts of wind was bringing in showers of rain water that still felt like messengers from Heaven to the daughter. 

They walked one walk between the hills, then second, then third, and still no sign of the boys! The daughter's patience was wearing off. On the fourth walk she asked her mother to go back to the stairs under the Imam's room. The mother said that it was more than forty minutes since they left the spot and that by no means the boys could be there waiting in that cold rain. The daughter insisted and the two women started towards the stairs in the middle of the fourth walk between the hills.

They reached the stairs and right there, in that cold, torrential rain were standing the boys, drenching wet to the bones. The mother asked the boys why had they not started the Saee. The daughter knew the answer before they replied. The daughter said to the mother that they were her sons! They would not leave the spot, come rain or storm. They were told by the mother to be there. They were going to stand there till she met them as she had said. The mother did not know but the daughter had no doubt that her brothers would never start the Saee, breaking the arrangement set by the mother. She knew it because she also knew those boys were raised by parents who set the example by their own conduct.

I know the sentiments of the daughter because it was me. The mother was my mother and the boys were my own brothers.