Down with the Danes

Happy New Year to all Muslim brothers and sisters!!!!

It's not been a very pleasant start to the new year, what with the whole Danish cartoon fiasco. At least the whole ruckus has not been futile. According to 7 days, Danish companies suffered Dhs 200 million in lost sales in just one day due to boycott of Danish products.

And is it justified? I was quite ambivalent about it and even though I'm teetering on the side of 'yes, it is', the 'No,it's not' side still beckons: is any of this the fault of the owners of these brands? How are the employees of this company to balme? Why should they suffer (as the corporations will definitely pass the buck)?

But then I think, Yes, let them suffer ... it means more pressure on the government to apologize publicly. More reason for them to think twice before printing the cartoon (or something similar)again.

A poll reveals that majority of Danish citizens feel their government shouldn't apologise. Some say that's the way to go ... that it's not the government that published the cartoon, but the magazine. But then, has the magazine apologized?

Editor-in-chief Carsten Juste refused. “We live in a democracy," he says ."That’s why we can use all the journalistic methods we want to. Satire is accepted in this country, and you can make caricatures. Religion shouldn’t set any barriers on that sort of expression. This doesn’t mean that we wish to insult any Muslims.”

Cultural editor Flemming Rose concurred. “Religious feelings,” he observed, “cannot demand special treatment in a secular society. In a democracy one must from time to time accept criticism or becoming a laughingstock.”

Democracy my ass. Freedom-of-speech .... my $#@& ass!!!!!

What about BBC's Popetown: a controversial cartoon series that mocks the Pope and the Vatican, that was never aired following pressure from the Catholic Church?

BBC's own website reports on Spetemebr 23, 2004: (my notes in brackets)

"After much consideration, Stuart Murphy, Controller of BBC THREE, has taken the difficult decision not to transmit the animation series Popetown on editorial grounds.

The decision has been supported by Jana Bennett, Director of Television, and follows consultation with the Controller of Editorial Policy, Stephen Whittle and Head of Religion and Ethics, Alan Bookbinder.

Representations had also been made from various groups who feared from the basic premise of the comedy series, which is set in a fictional Vatican, that it would cause offence to practising Catholics. (well, at least the BBC has the head to rationalise on basis of what might or might not offend viewers)

Stuart Murphy said: "Popetown was a challenging project for BBC THREE to undertake.
"After a lot of consideration and consultation, balancing the creative risk with the potential offence to some parts of the audience, we have decided not to transmit the programme. (a consideration the Danes obviously lack)

"Despite all of the creative energy that has gone into this project and the best efforts of everyone involved, the comic impact of the delivered series does not outweigh the potential offence it will cause. (really Danes, was it worth it for you?)

"It has been an extremely difficult and complex decision to make. There is a fine judgement line in comedy between the scurrilously funny and the offensive. (HELLO .... Sanity calling Editor Juste)

"I knew when we developed the series that there was risk involved but unfortunately, once we saw the finished series, it became clear that the programme fell on the wrong side of that line."
Jana Bennett says: "I'm sorry that this programme will not be coming to the screen, but I think the decision is the right one."

So there you go. Where is bloody freedom of fucking speech when it comes to the Pope?

Please admit it, the West (and include any and all generalizations in that: the US, the EU, Christian, what have you) sees it fit to exercise these rules only in their own interests.

What makes the Pope better (or worthy of more consideration) than the Holy Prophet PBUH?

The Danish Government should apologize, as should the magazine and the creators of the cartoon.

I've put up a link to this entry in the comments section of a post on MediaWatchWatch.org.uk addressing this issue. Keep an eye on it if you are interested in viewing the obtuseness of the Gora Gadhas.

Gora Gadha Episodes

And speaking of the obtuseness of Gora Gadhas, this whole thing - as well as my newfound passion for arguing my POV when it comes to religion - just reminds me of a very bitter experience with a very 'once-upon-a-time' dear friend whom we shall merely call The Spaniard.

I was spending a few weeks in Greece on self-assigned work in my freelancing days a few years back. As soon as I landed in Athens, I had a lunch date with The Spaniard in fashionable Kolonaki which is hellishly far from the airport.

Already pissed off in general because getting to Kolnaki was neither easy nor cheap , I warned him that I might rush through lunch because I didn't want to miss my Zuhr ki namaaz.

Well, as they say bander kya janey adrak ka swaad ... he insisted on arguing the neccessity of namaaz with me and those were the days when I used to believe that when it comes to religion, it's best not to argue (a part of me still believes that, BTW).

So, during the whole duration of my stay in Athens, whenever we'd be together, there would inevitably be endless uneasy, tension-filled silences that followed stupid, meaningless questions like 'do you really want to go to a heaven created by a god who won't let you in unless you bow infront of him five times a day for the rest of your life?' .

The Spaniard couldn't understand why the slab of parma ham on his kitchen counter wasn't something he could convince me to eat. He couldn't understand why I had to eat Tuna and spaghetti in olive oil when in his house (the only 'safe' foods I spied in his pantry). Why I had to go to another room every so often to say my namaaz.

I mean, FOR FUCK'S SAKE, LEAVE ME ALONE!!!!

I wish back then I'd had the guts to argue but back then, I didn't and I just couldn't understand why The Spaniard had a problem letting me be.

And it's true of all Gora Gadhas ... why can't they just let things be? Why can't they 'do unto others as you would have them do unto you'?

When they refuse to eat anything except vegetables, they become Vegetarians with understandable concern for animals. When we refuse to eat pork, we become superstitious, backward pagans.

When they object to religious mockery, they become upholders of theological virtue and sensibilties. When we do it, we become religious fanatics and challengers of Freedom Of Speech.
Needless to say, my Athens trip was spent trying to avoid The Spaniard as much as I could and what was a lovely friendship from a distance became an ugly clash of cultures in real life.

However, in all fairness, I must point out that paanchon unglyan baraber nahi hoteen.

I remember having long (and pleasant) discussions on Islam with a certain Golden Boy under the French sky, at the foot of the Eiffel Tower. He was from the States and admitted that meeting me backpacking in Paris changed his view of Muslim women.

I also remember some days spent in a London hostel that looked right out of Blade Runner (it was housed in a what was supposedly formerly a police station). There was Jeff (who I had met earlier at Victoria Station on the way back from Paris) who was so enthralled by the concept of namaz that he asked if he could join me.

A Christian boy experiencing the serenity brought by namaaz that makes me say it regularly. Leading him through chaar rikaat farz. When we finished, he was so overwhelmed. I just looked across at him salaam pherney kay baad and as I smiled at hime while silently mouthing Ayat Ul Kursi, he smiled back. SubhanAllah.

I have to tell you, I don't know if the first (and perhaps only) namaaz of Jeff's life was qabooled by the Big Guy Upstairs, but it was certainly something to warm the heart.

Now THAT was a silence that certainly wasn't uneasy, nor tension-filled and unpleasant :)

White Flag

I am strongly opposed to the neo-conservative war agenda - and believe in the urgent necessity of a left-right anti-war coalition. The choice facing us is stark: More Shock and Awe- against Syria, Iran or Belarus, or any other country which refuses to pay Danegeld to The Empire- or lasting peace and security- based on respect for the sovereignty of nations. It's time to make our stand. On domestic issues I support renationalisation of the railways and public utilities, a new top rate of income tax on the very wealthy, free care for the elderly, a free National Health Service including the restoration of NHS dentistry, protection of the Green Belt and the countryside, and the restoration of capital punishment.

You must have realised by now that none of what I wrote above is actually my thoughts. Heh. It's somerandombody's profile from the Big World of Blog. I actually do agree with the first two sentences and planned to compose a post based on that, but who am I kidding?

We needed a post to stop the war going on in my 'comments' section on the Fawara post.

So guys , chill.

A note to all you anonymous dudes (or dudettes): if you can't say it with a face or name, don't say it at all. Opinions don't count if the perosn behind them feels the need to hide. At least I have faith enough in my opinion to put it up in public for all to see that it's MY opinion.

Also ... regardless of any 'hate' comments I get, I will continue to write what I feel because it's my blog.

Get it? It's MY BLOG ... not a document created anticipating it's future historical value, or one to be judged on merit of it's level/angle of social commentary.

PEACE

Fucking Fawara

Have you heard about Karachi's newest attraction: what is alleged to be the tallest fountain in the world?

And apparently, the biggest waste of money.

GEO News reports that "The highest Fountain Jet of the world at Oyster Rocks in Keamari ... with estimated cost of Rs225 million ... the Fountain Jet will spew water up to 500 feet height and will be the world’s highest Fountain Jet.Presently the world’s highest Fountain Jet was located in Saudi Arabia, which spew water up to 350 feet height."

225 Fucking Million Rupees. Are You Fucking Kidding Me?!!!

It apparently costs 100k rupees to just run that fountain everyday (and as it normally runs from 8-12, it costs about 25k per hour!). Add that to the cost of building it, and you have The Fucking Worst Idea Anyone Has Ever Implemented In Pakiland.

There's been talk about it being a great tourist attraction and that - coupled with Aisa's largest park apparently right next to it - it's a place where vendors are setting up shop and can hope to eran lots of money.

How? By selling 15 rupee keychain? At that rate, yeah, the common man will eventually make back the money spent by the goverment in ... say ... a CENTURY?

Come on KPfuckingT ... 225 million?!!! Come on Parvez Moneybags Musharraf. Even I can think of better ways to have spent that money ... specially at this point of time, when there are thousand who need help getting on with their lives post-earthquake.

How is a bloody 500 foot fountain going to help them?

I have my doubts about the financial viability of the project.

I can't imagine many people coming to see a 'fountain' and 'Asia's largest park' besides those already living in Pakistan. Let's face it, it's a country with almost no toursit attractions and most foreigners are wary of its (well-earned) reputation for violence and terrorism. Add to that the filth you encounter everywhere and the condition of the roads, lack of public transport etc etc. NOT your ideal tourist destination. Name one beach easily accessible from Karachi that's clean enough and safe enough to have a swim.

Fine, the Northern Areas are lovely, but WHY would a ski enthusiast who's come for a cheap ski vacation go all the way South to Karachi to see a bloody fountain?

Remember Aladin Waterpark when it was first created.? What high hopes everybody had for that. Seen it recently?

It's swarmed by lower class people who have no other means of entertainment AND who have no sense of hygeine OR respect for public property. You'd be lucky to find a surface there that's not been painted on, peed on, or paan-spitted on. And don't even THINK of going in the water. What good is this 'waterpark' today? Can't imagine suggesting any tourists go there. Kya apni naak katwani hai goron ko itni gandi jagha bhej kar?

Fact of the matter is, the jaahil qaum always tend to congregate at such venues, effectively driving any upper/upper-middle class people away: people who might spend more money and who might be more respectful of such venues.

Have you ever seen the Minar-e-Pakistan? It's our equivalent of the Statue and Liberty and do you know what it's like? It's got paan stains all over it and people have scrathed their names and left their phone numbers and ingenious marketing executives have stuck sticker adverts for everything from sex-change operations to international fax services.

THAT is Pakistani Qaum for you.

And you expect them to respect this fountain? You think it will be in ANY state to be proud of even two years from now?

I went to Mushi's PR site.

" ... the President said that new management will invest millions of dollars to improve electric supply to Karachiites" (as opposed to the BILLIONS spent on a lousy fountain?!!!)

"Appreciating the efforts of KPT Chairman Vice Admiral Ahmed Hayat, he said under his dynamic leadership KPT was undertaking development projects.He said the port fountain was one of the tallest in the world and provides scenic view to the people. It will beautify the port, he added." (what might also beautify the port Mushi, is the cleaning of the creeks and beaches and better waste management - all of which would be more sensible than a jet of water shooting 500 feet into the air for no purpose other than 'beautification).

"President Musharraf said the coastline of Pakistan has to be developed. It gives a good feeling, he noted." (Has he bothered to note that decorrupting the police force, coming up with budgets that DON'T give 80% of everything to the Army, better infrastructre, more reliable and safer public transport, improved andi ncreased educational opportunities for the poor might all give 'a good feeling' ... and shall we say more long-term then a water jet?)

"He said British firm Invest Water Treatment has built the fountain." (funnily enough, the name didn't even pop up on Google. Hello. Even I pop up on Google, so what's the deal? Is this some shitty little backstreet operation that doesn't even have an online presence, or is Mushi's PR team too lazy to bother checking if the names mentioned in a release are correct?!)

"Later President General Pervez Musharraf unveiled the plaque and pressed the button to start the fountain. This was followed by a spectacular display of fireworks which lasted for quite some time. "

And so starts the story of yet more Paksitani funds going (literelly) down the drain.

Well done Mushi. What little respect I had for you is now lost.

PS: I live in the city of 'The Biggest', 'The Tallest' etc etc. When a country with excellent public education, great infrastructre, reliable public transport and a commendable police force does it, it makes sense.

The Mother Road

So how do you know you are destined to do something, meet someone, go somewhere?

Simple.

You look out for signs.

When Jagruti dragged me to the Lufthansa dinner one fateful evening in May 2004 despite my vehement protests, I should have 'seen the sign' and given in easier: there was a Lufthansa sticker on my main door, stuck by some former resident ... right above the place where I inserted the key every evening after coming home from work and muttered 'damn bird!' on bad days and just 'bird!' on good ones. A 'lufthansa bird' sticker noticed by Arfiman on our second date ... the first time he cmae upstairs to collect me.

I met him at that Lusthansa event that I had been dragged to.

Never ignore the signs.

I think it was six years ago that I bought a cheap T-shirt that I fell in love with. It was so comfortable. And since it had a collar, I could 'smart casual' wear it. Until I wore holes in it. How many T-shirts does a person own in 25 years of life? And how many of those t-shirts have labels that you read and remember? Well, I never knew i had this one commited to memory.

Until someone, some years down the line - when the t-shirt had long been stretched beyond recognition and discarded as unwearable - mentioned a word in passing that made a bell ring in my head.

Out came the t-shirt from the back of the closet and I knew right then, that one day, I was destined to travel The Mother Road.

I was destined to 'Get My Kicks on Route 66'.



I made plans. I was going to go to film school in LA. What luck ... route 66 ended in LA. I would start my trip three weeks earlier and 'do' Route 66. But fate had other plans. I met Arfiman and film school was forgotten with no regrets. So was Route 66.

What are the chances of living in a desert country, where the first language is Arabic, where you have no know American neighbors and you approach your car one day to find scribed on your bonnet 'R-66'. You look at the letters in dust and you know it can't be ANYTHING BUT A SIGN.

So, I am falling in love with the idea of Doing Route 66 all over again.

What exactly is it? It's an almost 2,400 mile stretch spanning 8 states and is a legendary route for the great american roadtrip. It goes from Chicago, Illinois to LA, California and passes through St Louis, Tulsa, Oklahoma, Amarillo, Albaqurque, Santa Fe and Flagstaff.



Route 66 was a highway spawned by the demands of a rapidly changing America. Contrasted with the Lincoln, the Dixie, and other highways of its day, Route 66 did not follow a traditionally linear course. Its diagonal course linked hundreds of predominately rural communities in Illinois, Missouri, and Kansas to Chicago; thus enabling farmers to transport grain and produce for redistribution.

In his famous social commentary, "The Grapes of Wrath", John Steinbeck proclaimed U. S. Highway 66 the "Mother Road." Steinbeck's classic 1939 novel, combined with the 1940 film recreation of the epic odyssey, served to immortalize Route 66 in the American consciousness. Route 66 symbolized the renewed spirit of optimism that pervaded the country after economic catastrophe and global war. Often called, "The Main Street of America", it linked a remote and under-populated region with two vital 20th century cities - Chicago and Los Angeles.

Today, it's the ultimate road trip.

Classic gas-pumps teamed with quaint motels and quintessential diners ... 66 passes through some fairly large cities but most of it traces a path along fairly unpopulated terrain. How cool would that be in a classic American car?



Or a bike, if we had the guts?



"Have you NOT seen The Texas Chain Saw Massacre'?!!!!" is what most people say when they find out I want to do Route 66.

Or Jeepers Creepers
Or House of Wax
Or Detour
Or Freeway
Or Hitchhiker
Or any of the dozens of episodes of X-Files decicated to the follies of th underbelly of America: hicksville, THE BOONIES.

My comback?

Have you not seen Sideways? Road Trip? Cross Roads? The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants? Thelma & Louise? Road to Perdition? Get on the Bus? My Own Private Idaho?

We could be Bonnie & Clyde! Only, we'd take pictures instead of money :) LOL

Yes, Route 66 could be so much fun. So will we? Or won't we?

Maybe I could entice Arfiman with talk of driving a '55 Thunderbird for three weeks ...

Forever Friends

Somi: I saw a very violent movie the other day.
Me: Oh yeah? Which one?
Somi: I don’t know the name … it was about some Japanese girl who’s family gets killed and then she takes revenge. She’s like just one girl, but she kills about a hundred people. In one scene, she’s fighting about fifty people at once ... all alone.
I’m racking my brain. Arfiman, not so much.
Arfiman: Are you talking about Kill Bill?
Somi nods vigorously (in agreement).Arfiman is now mystified.
Arfiman: But it’s not Japanese.
Somi: I don’t know ... it had that Japanese girl in it ….

And I just shake my head with a knowing smile. Kill Bill is not Japanese. Uma Thurman doesn’t look Japanese. She’s a bloody blonde for Pete’s sake.

But that’s just Somi for you. She can put a smile on your face. And in my case, she can love you more than you’re ever been loved by a friend.

They say that truly loving someone means accepting them with all their faults. I’ve always thought of myself as a very difficult person to truly love: I have too many expectations and too little patience, I can be too cold-hearted and too hot-tempered, I can be cruel and hold a grudge and I can be selfish and inconsiderate. Those are all hazards of being close to me.

For that reason, there is no one I have not had a fight with. Except Somi. Wait, let me correct myself …. she is perhaps the only person in the whole world who has never been the cause of one of our fights. Sure we’ve fought a handful of times, but never her fault.

She’s perhaps the only friend in the whole world I’m sure loves me more than she loves anybody else. After her parents and her siblings, I know there is nobody more important to her than I. But that’s all gone and changed now.

Now she is married and I will no longer be able to run down the stairs and do my special double-knock, to find her at the door. She will be in another house.

All of a sudden, she isn’t next door. Not in another flat, but in another city … in another country. So what if I moved to Dubai. She was always there when I went back. She’s not going to be anymore. Why are some things so hard to let go of?

I’ve never cried at a rukhsati …. not even mine. But on hers, I felt like somebody was wrenching my heart out.

Tussi jaa rahey ho? Tussi na jao …

Planning matching outfits for 14th August: tacky green kameez with white dupatta and shalwar. The tailor not finishing them in time and us panicking. Convincing the tailor to come in on a weekend to finish our outfits. Realizing that Somi looked infinitely better in green than I did. And in yellow.

Daily walks to the park in Block 8. Lying our way in when they told us it’s only for Block 8 residents. Then lying about it everyday ... pretending we DID live in block 8, because there was no park for Block 16. Mangal bazaar. My god, Mangal Bazaar: unending deliberations over suit pieces. Hassan square ki chaat: walking all the way for a 15 rupee plate and then sharing because we didn’t have enough money to buy a whole chaat each.

That fateful Pizza Hut afternoon where I felt like a salad and dragged her with me. When our salad came, she suddenly remembered that SHE WAS FASTING. Face-painting stalls in the annual funfair in the Apartments. Secret crushes: sometimes on the same guy, but never a problem. French fries with lots of ketchup and chaat masala. KDA market and Sindhi Muslim ka KFC. Tariq Road and Dolmen mall.

Staying up all nightto watch Titanic with her cousins. That Najam Shiraz video. How late we got and how mad our parents got at us.

Stitching classes in Nisa Club. LOL. Nobody but Somi could have dragged me there. We did so many things with each other that we would have done with no one else. We’re fire and water, my Somi and I. Whoever’s been with us for a little while can’t help wondering how two such opposites can be so close. She’s the Bianco for my Nero. The Yin for my Yang.

If I had known that those moments I so took for granted wouldn’t last forever, I would have taken more time to savor them. What about our ‘special handshake’ that we invented in the eighth grade and never grew out of?

We didn’t even forget on her rukhsati. There she was in her bridal outfitand me in my finery … doing our ‘special handshake’. We must have looked mad.

My god, we WERE mad.

It’s not a big deal, I tell myself. How many days do I spend in Karachi anyway? Maybe ten in a whole year. Twenty at the most. That’s the point.

But how can I be in Karachi and not spend half of my time with Somi.

How? After practically living in her balcony for years … sitting on the cool, marble-mosaic floor, looking out at the street and talking about everything under the sun. After years of ‘khaney kelyey kuch hai?’ being my first question when I came to hers – which was everyday. After years of knowing there was an extended closet in the next building with plenty of oufits and accessories for the borrowing: almost all of which fit me perfectly, though only a fraction would suit my tastes. Years of endless gossiping and giggling. Realizing that I have been at her house for over two hours and I had better go back home and then – since we hadn’t finished – taking her back to mine and spending another two hours doing NOTHING BUT TALKING. I don't even remember what it's liek to talk nonstop for four hours. Awful display of badminton skills downstairs. Midnight walks. Going to Lady Choice Lace Centre (LOL) for matching ‘bayl’ for our dupattas and suits. Agonizing when the tailor spoilt our suits and going for alterations. Who’s going to go with me to the tailor’s now?

Having her meant never having to ride the bus or go to tariq road alone. Never having a story to tell without having anyone to tell it to. It meant never having no shoulder to cry on. Never feeling like no one cared (aside from family cuz they just don’t count).

It meant French fries and badminton and a 200 rupee loan whenever I wanted.

It meant sharing everything from her huge collection of earrings to that little stub of Jordanna Nutmeg lip-pencil which was the best shade we ever found and never found again. We used it down to the last centimetre. My god, I think we injured our lips trying to get those last bits out.

I don’t know if we can every have any of it again. I think we lost it all five years ago when I moved here. I remember how hard it was to not be next door to her anymore. But I think it was easier for me to cope with it because I was in the new exciting place with lots of discoveries to make. She was the one stuck in the same schedule with her biggest co-conspirator not there anymore.

And now I’m the one in her shoes. She’s started out on a whole new phase of her life … with a whole new set of people and I’m the one who stood there underneath her building the day after her ‘rukhsati’, on my way to the airport. Knowing that she’s not up there to hug me good-bye, to ask me when I’m coming back. Knowing that the next time I come back here, I can’t run up to her flat before even going to mine and ring the doorbell and surprise her.

Knowing that it’s never, ever going to be just the two of us again: on that balcony, with our fries, talking about things that didn’t matter and yet, mattered more than anything else in the whole, wide world.

Shaadi Mubarak!

'Nail Polish Virgin' No More

teen-teen-teeeen-teeen-teen-teen-teeeeeeen-teen-teen *phone dialing*

rrrrring rrrrring rrrrring *phone rings out with no response*

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO *BPC shrieks in panic*

That's what happens when you try to fix a blow-dry appointment three hours before you want one ON A THURSDAY!

When did I become the kind of woman that gets blow-dries? Oh wait, no that's not the end of it (or even the begining of it!) I also get manicures, pedicures, hot oil treatments, facials and highlights. GASP!!!

LOL

Okay, so everyone who's known me for the longest time will know how I am SO not a girly girl. I could never grow my nails, NEVER owned nailpolish in my WHOLE life, only had facials and massages when were required by job as an Editor and my hair color was always on the punk side rather than 'pretty'.

But somewhere down the line, I CAVED!

Yes, I admit it, I caved. It started with my getting sick of frizzy hair and discovering the Ceramic Flat Iron. And so began my FIRST beautfication ritual: the regular ironing of my tresses (what little I had).

And then, slowly slowly, all those free massages wore my guard away and I started ENOYING them! Yes, yes, I admit, I love all the thick luscious robes, the exquisitely scented waiting rooms, the dimmed lights, the soothing nature CDs, the healing touch of a therapist, the lovely aroma of the massage oils *bliss*. I ALWAYS fall asleep during my treatments and have to be woken up.

I should have known that this day would come soon too:

The other day, D. From The Office (in future, we hsall refer ot all work people as XYZ From The Office, or XYZ FTO for short) and i were manning the company's blood donation camp and right across me was a huge poster that for some reason called me in like the Mother Ship.

I had no idea there was this vain woman inside me who wants all these little salon-y doo-dads and ENJOYS them!

So, I waltz in and INVEST in a WHOLE YEAR of salon treatments!

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Yes. Get this: a whole year of a wash and blow dry every week (which, by the way, I have an appointment now for 2 pm YAY!), and mani-pedi every fortnight, and a haircut, highlight, facial and hot oil treatment every month.

I am shocked to the bone. Arfiman is so stunned. he said he might have to 'rethink our whole arrangement', as he had 'married a girl who DIDN'T like painting her nails'. tsk tsk

Tabz freaked out when she saw my French Mani when I went ot Karachi for Bhayya's shaadi.

'OMIGOD!' she screamed. "THIS IS SO NOT YOU?!!! WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU?"

Bahahahahaha. I just love messing with people's heads.

I've also figured that though I can keep my pedicure safe for two weeks, my manicure doesn't last the day. So I went out and bought a DIY French Manicure Kit.

AND, when I fly to Karachi tonight, I now have something to do on the plane!

More #%^$%^&**(^$

I began posting a reply to the comments on my last post, and realized that what I want to say hold better go on the main blog.

I totally understand where Khizzy comes from when she says she stops "because i realize that my questions would be justified, IF i had read the Quran by translation and not found the answers".

I get scared to ask questions sometimes too ... and believe me, for some things I have questioned, my reading the Quran translations has totally led me away from what we normally practise.

"Dont ruin ur faith babe!" she says and I totally agree, which is why I question things now. Being Pakistanis (as i assume most readers of my blog are), who knows better than us how attached us pakis can get to 'culture' and 'custom' ... so much so that it even seeps it's way into religious practises and somewhere down the road, we take these 'customs' as 'religious duties'.

I don't want this to become a religous blog, but I just want to say that I am a very religious person and that not all religious people are covered in hijaab.

Infact, 'hijab' is among the couple of things that I started questioning recently. Is our local version of hijab a religious obligation or a choice?

There are just three verses in the Quran that give instructions on what women should wear:

(7:26) O children of Adam, we have provided you with garments to cover your bodies, as well as for luxury. But the best garment is the garment of righteousness. These are some of GOD's signs, that they may take heed.

(33:59) O prophet, tell your wives, your daughters, and the wives of the believers that they shall lengthen their garments. Thus, they will be recognized (as righteous women) and avoid being insulted. GOD is Forgiver, Most Merciful.

(24:31) And tell the believing women to subdue their eyes, and maintain their chastity. They shall not reveal any parts of their bodies, except that which is necessary. They shall cover their bosoms, and shall not relax this code in the presence of other than their husbands, their fathers, the fathers of their husbands, their sons, the sons of their husbands, their brothers, the sons of their brothers, the sons of their sisters, other women, the male servants or employees whose sexual drive has been nullified, or the children who have not reached puberty. They shall not strike their feet when they walk in order to reveal their adornment. All of you shall repent to GOD, O you believers, that you may succeed.

I seriously question how this means I need to cover my head and wear an abayah to be a good muslimah.

Next, I had my questions about halal meat. I wondered why, if meat has been hygenically prepared, is it not permissable to eat any animal that is not zabiha? It sure makes life miserable for Muslims in the West, and isn't Islam supposed to NOT be a religion of hardship?

Well, surprise surprise, I found NO reference in the Quran to eating only that meat which has been slaughtered in the name of Allah.

(6:118) You shall eat from that upon which GOD's name has been pronounced, if you truly believe in His revelations.

So, if I say Bismaillah before eating kosher meat, the above ayah assures me it's alright. Also ...

(5:5) Today, all good food is made lawful for you. The food of the people of the scripture is lawful for you, and your food is lawful for them. Also, you may marry the chaste women among the believers, as well as the chaste women among the followers of previous scripture, provided you pay them their due dowries. You shall maintain chastity, not committing adultery, nor taking secret lovers. Anyone who rejects faith, all his work will be in vain, and in the Hereafter he will be with the losers.

Seeing as the majority of people in Europe are Christians (people of scripture) and food produced there is fit for their consumption, then why can't I eat it? If so many muslim men insist on reminding us they they can marry a 'gori maim' as the Quran allows it (as it does in the above ayah), then why is the first part of that Ayah corrupted from our minds?

And the list goes on. If more people read up on things they had doubts about - instead of being scared of damaging their faith - then maybe we might be able to get out of the trivial disputes of 'how short a skirt' and 'how long a beard'.

As I said, there are only three ayah that talk about dresscode. There are nearly 55 about charity. What do you see the moderm muslim arguing more about? What's the bone of contention of many fanatics on a daily basis? Let me give you a hint: it's not how much more money should be given to our poorer brothers.

When exactly did Islam become more about the petty issues (you can't say your namaz if you are wearing nailpolish) and less about being a better human being on the whole?

$#%#^$@!$%&^*$%$#

The last few days - with it having been Baqra Eid and all - Arfiman and I have been discussing the religious requirements of this Eid, it's origins and it's relevance in today's world. Sadly, we both have been grappling to make some sense out of it.

That's what I like about my Arfiman ... he doesn't take things for granted and he will always question things ... not do things simly because he's ben told to do them, or because that's who they've always ben done. Me? I'm more of a Myna Bird. Tell me and I'll do it. Not anymore though.

So anyway, we were wondering, isn't it funny how we make fun of Hindus and all their offering mithai and whatnot to their Devis and Deotas? And how we condemn animal sacrifice by cults?

What makes it any better when we do it? Okay, agreed Allah wants us to, but don't they beleive their God wants them to do it too? How does that make them any less civilised than us?

I mean, I do believe, but sometimes I struggle with my faith. So many things just do not seem to make sense, and sorry, but when it doesn't make sense, you begin to wonder ....

Take the whole Hajj thing for example. What is up with all those people dying every year?

People go on Hajj to save their souls, not to lose their lives.

400 people died in the stampede this year. And that's not it. How about this:

2004: 251 trampled to death in stampede
2003: 14 are crushed to death
2001: 35 die in stampede
1998: At least 118 trampled to death
1997: 343 pilgrims die and 1,500 injured in fire
1994: 270 killed in stampede
1990: 1,426 pilgrims killed in tunnel leading to holy sites
1987: 400 die as Saudi authorities confront pro-Iranian demonstration

I was just chatting with a friend about this, and he says "It's not the fault of the muslims. Expert foreign (european) professionals MUST have been involved in the planning and construction including the safety issues... and no doubt they were paid good money by the saudis ..."

Very nice then, lay the blame on the gora YET AGAIN.

Tell me, what good is it if experts come and do some great good? All of it can easily be undone by our jaahil 'ummah'.

I am sorry, but the common Muslim man is perhaps the filthiest creature alive today.

Have you ever been to a public washroom after a mussalman has done wadhuing? I work in Knowledge Village and before that in DMC, both near the prayer rooms and trust me, you DO NOT want to go near hte bathrooms close to prayer time.

I'm talking Suez Canal on the floor and 'Let's See Who Can Mush up the Most Paper Towels and Throw Them on the Floor' and people using TOILET ROLL instead of paper towels.

Somebody invented paper towels, but there's still water all over everything AND mud streak in the sink. Somebody bloody invented a SINK WITH A DRAIN FOR THE WATER TO GO DOWN, but it's all on the BLOODY FLOOR for some reason!

Did you hear that the stampede was caused by a couple of sad fucks ... oh, sorry, HAJIS and HAJJANS ... who KNEW no one was allowed to bring luggage into a specific area but still did just to slice a few minutes off their return trip and the victims tripped over this luggage (and over other rubbish left by holy devouts) and hence the whole scenario.

There must have been a time when Islam brought great civilization to the barbarians, but nowadays, it just seems like us Muslims are experts at undoing civilization.

Never Fly Air Blue (aka Airport Episodes)

Never fly Air Blue unless:

1. You are the pilot
2. You are the cabin crew
3. You have at least a 24-hour buffer for any engagement oyu might have at your destination
4. You have no will to live outside the airport
5. You like being kept in suspence bout terminally delayed flights

Oh, the list could go on, but let's cut to the chase and just say: "DON'T!"

Well, we did, for lack of availability of seats on other flights, and boy, did we suffer. I shall recount more in detail later, as I now have to proceed to skive off work for the last few hours.

Before you judge me, please be aware that I am one of the only handful of people crazy enough to be working today.

Read the posts below from the bottom up, starting from #1 (obviously!) ....

Airport Episode #4

Airport Episode #2

Airport Episode #3

Airport Episode #1

retributed/retributioned

So how's this for the charm of English language? The word is 'retribution' and when I want to use it in a sentence, MS word will accept neither 'retributed' nor 'retributioned'?! And here I was ... about to do a jig for using a word for the first time. Is it the first time anyone has EVER used the word?

Okay, so I am being retributed/retributioned (now I'm not even sure if it's the right word to describe what I want to say!) for every time I have ever blogged without having anything concrete to blog about.

All those eventless-yet-joyful-writing days are coming back to haunt me as too-many-things-happening-too-litle-time-to-write.

The year isn't even two weeks old and it feels like SO MUCH HAS HAPPENED.

Well, we've just Karachiied and back, for Bhayya's shaddi AND Farrukh bhaiz, so that's two biggies right there. There has already been one Eid. AND I have made the ultimate Beautification Commitment, which is a WAY biggie for me.

I think my Beautification Commitment deserves a whole post of it's own (which it will getm in due time) and there's loads to blog about the weddings, and about the trip to karachi (specially the part where we weren't actually in Karachi, and technically, not in Dubai either!).

So yeah ... loads of entries due to come, but all I feel right now is sleepy. Didn't sleep all night because slept 16 hours the day before. Yes, SIXTEEN!

We went to bed knackered at 12:30 and didn't wake up till 1:30. Had a BIG breakfast, made mental lists of all the chores we had to do having been out of the city for a week (laundry, grocery, bills) and went to bed AGAIN at 3ish and didn't get up until 6!!

So, I'm groggy right now and all I want to do is look at the Shaadi pix :)

Some thoughts on the wedding ...