Imagine His Resume...

By way of Umm Zaid, I found this great article about how former Taliban spokesman is a freshman at Yale.

I remember when he was in D.C. pre-9/11 and was giving an interiew, a female reporter was trying to grill him on the Taliban's treatment of women and the burkha, and his response was something to the effect of 'I feel sorry for your husband, you must be a very difficult wife.' It was so far out there and unexpected in this big, diplomatic-type press conference that it actually caused quite a laugh, for its sheer audacity.

There is this thing about politics and Afghans. We are obsessed with it in one sense, but in another can't quite grasp it. I once interned in an Afghanistan advocacy group in D.C., since closed, in which the director would always joke about this subject. Particularly the fact that Afghans with political science degrees are a dime a dozen, very very common (including myself). But it's usually those without the degrees that are holding office. And those with the the degrees? Well, the men usually put them to good use in gatherings, debating the night away over steaming hot cups of green tea. The women go to law school.

A Blog Ego With Only Two Loyal Readers?

Insha'Allah I promise not to put up any more utterly inane and stupid posts like some of the recent ones. Admitted, I am new to blogging and learning the ropes and I have quickly learned to NOT post just to post.

I am slowly working on adding features such as links to the sidebar, which are important so that I can get some thawwab-scrapings for any benefit any one may receive at sites like Umm Zaid's, Sheikh Faraz's or Sidi Haroon's.

Also, a thanks to Sidi Matthew for linking to my site, however undeserved. His site contains, among many nice posts and features, gorgeous pictures of his travels in and around Najd. He's also from Australia! Interesting, no?

I remember, was it, Sheikh Hamza (not sure now) who said that he remembered how in Australia there were these beautiful buildings, architecturally Islamic but functioning as offices and other secular institutions. It turns out that they were former masajid. Even sadder, they were built by the - get this! - Afghan community that had migrated there in the middle and latter parts of the last century. Apparently, as time passed they experienced less usage, and were eventually bought up and converted to offices!

I remember being very sad upon hearing this...The potential for this vibrant Muslim community, falling off. Afghans have been in Australia for a long time, even prior to the Soviet invasion. I have extended family there, but as one can imagine, haven't had a chance to swing by yet. Maybe one day, insh'Allah! But I would definitely like to learn more on the subject of these masajid-turned-office building in Australia. I will have to look it up and insh'Allah if I find good resources will post them.

And for the record, I won't delete my more absurd posts. I think in keeping them there, they will serve as reminders to keep my blog-ego in check.

I KNEW I Would Never Need to Know This!

Today I was doodling the name of my sweet nephew, Abdur-Rahman, using various scripts (it's been very slow at work lately!) when it hit me. I couldn't write in cursive if my life depended on it. This in itself is not so profound. What IS profound, however, that the the cursive lower-case form of the letter "B" is totally useless and unnesessary. Who ACTUALLY, besides elementary school teachers and otherwise neurotic perfectionists uses cursive? Moreover, I imagine that even though those who use cursive occasionally make the "b" like a reverse "d" - cheating, essentially. It's totally unnatural to write a cursive b, like your mind and hand are making this "l" - and then all of a sudden you come up and abruptly give it a handle, or more like a "thumbs up." (The latter probably only goes to people who can master as much.)

In this case I have to really give it to Arabic and Arabic-based scripts. Using a base form then adding smalls dots (the name for them escapes me at the moment), or placing them in certain places gives you a whole range of different letter options. Shoot, I would take any written alphabet from Thai, to Sanskrit, to Hebrew, as long as there were no cursive, lower-case "b"s to deal with.

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On another note, if ever someone other than my loyal readership of 1.5 friends reads this and can help me learn how to add links and all that cool stuff, please get in touch. Leave a comment letting me know as much and I will write you back, insha'Allah. Thanks!

It's Afghan Hounds, NOT Lapdogs

Today at lunch I needed to visit Pentagon City Mall to pick up something, so I hopped on the Metro (what we call the subway in dese here parts DC/VA/MD tristate area) at Metro Center in downtown, D.C. where I work, to get there.

It's important to note, that for anyone who hasn't yet put the clues together, Washington D.C. has a huge population of two types of people (aside from politicians and homeless people - almost the same I know, but at least the homeless people say thank you when you give them money) - lawyers and military people. The lawyers are easy to tell on the Metro, they have the redwelds under their arms and are usually frantically scrolling through their Blackberries. The military people are even easier, crew cuts/uniforms across the board, and are usually getting off at the Pentagon (along with hordes of South Asian defense contractors).

Today some military guys were sitting behind me. They were apparently recalling their glory days, no, not college football - raids on houses of "suspected militants" in Iraq. Yes, REALLY. On the Metro. I mean out of the million conversations someone could hold in public, they actually found this to be something that was *okay* to talk about in on a crowded train with everyone more or less listening in disgust/disbelief.

Basically, the lady of the house was being "annoying" by yelling because her house was being raided (pardon her bad manners, how dare she!). Then to make things better, one of the train guys decided to offer candy to the young'uns. Then all the kids bombarded him, and everything was just rosy.

That's right Uncle Sam. Keep raiding our houses, disrupting our economies and social fabric. Just make sure you keep pumping us full of Jolly Ranchers and Snickers, which combined with our non-existent dental care, will ensure we will all be toothless at 25!

I would just LOVE to see a soldier handing out portable toothbrush/toothpaste packs, or like Flintstone vitamins. OR SOMETHING BESIDES HIGH FRUCTOSE CORN SYRUP ARTIFICIAL CANDY.

Anyways, I digress. Then after this play by play on catching the bad guys, the guy goes on to talk about how he just LOVES Afghans. Why? They are the best interpretors in the field. Now, as an Afghan/Muslim woman I am already annoyed at the earlier talk of Iraq, but now it's gotten personal. Basically, according to him, we are more or less real sidekicks, just - his words - "latching on" to the troops and yada yada yada. I had this image of an Afghan tap dancing in blackface next to Shirley Temple in the new "urban-warfare" fatigues. As soon as I could, I changed seats and recited some salawat to calm down.

Brings New Meaning to the Word "Senseless"

This Time article offers a quick political analysis for another recent tragedy in Iraq, though rather than innocent women and children as victims, we have instead Islamic and Iraqi Culture and History.

There was no need to blast this beautiful mosque. After all, Allah is Beautiful and He loves Beauty. (But then again, the miserable people who commit these acts possess hearts that are either full of blackness or heads full of ignorance or in many cases both, which in all cases wouldn't know Beauty if she threw them across her knee and spanked them all the while yelling "WHO'S YOUR BEAUTY?")

There is a Reason Paradise is Under Their Feet

Another reflection on mourning a mother who has passed. This poor brother, let us remember both him and his mother and son in our duas, and also ask God for the tawfiq of being able to serve and be good to our mothers.

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I am deeply affected by this brother's situation because in it is the test which I am already certain will be the biggest of my own life - the inevitable passing of my own mother (may Allah grant her a long life of piety and health, in His service, Ameen).

My mother raised three children alone in the U.S., without the benefits of a husband, child support or an extensive family network. She is a mountain onto herself, exuding strength and resilience. But as we have grown, so has she. When I find myself looking at her increasingly gray hair or when I wait for her at the bottom of stairs because she takes them one at a time, much like a small child, the Feeling comes. I try to shake it off, but it's nagging presence covers me for a time, like the grey rain cloud over the frustrated cartoon characters of my youth, the Feeling, the reminder that she will not always be with me.

The Feeling is an integral part of leading a life of righteousness and piety - when we remember how close we are to death, that it is closer than the strap on your sandal, we should remember Allah, glorious is He. We should repent, we should remember that we are here on this earth for a such a short period of time and that we should not waste time lollygagging, dunya chasing, wealth building, and instead should focus on that which matters.

Yet, the Feeling in relation to my mother is difficult to bear. She is my everything in many ways. I know, alhamdulAllah, that our parents, our children, our everything are on a sort of 'loan' from God - that is why we say when we hear of a death "Inna lillahee wa Inna ilaihi rajoon" - From God we come and unto Him is our Return. When she passes, and I pray it's not soon, just like all of us, she will return to her Creator. And if we can live pious lives as good, sincere Muslims and remember it's not just the Creator but rather the Beloved whom we are returning to - we will be like Rumi's reed back in his reed bed, no longer crying in separation, content and peaceful - insha'Allah.

And yet, again, I continue to have difficulty in conceiving of when my mother will be taken back. And really, who knows? Maybe my time for return is written before hers - there is no guarantee to these things, none that which we are aware of, at least. Allah knows, when, where, how and who we will call back - all that we know is that it will happen, eventually. And then, upon our return, will our eyes open and Eternity will proceed.

I love my mother, though I am hardly the best daughter. I need my mother. Her strength, granted by Allah, most High, has inspired and held me through very difficult times, particularly in the last few years. Her acceptance of me, has granted me confidence in the face of insurmountable odds. And her support of me, even in things she herself didn't fully understand, has given me the courage to make difficult decisions. She has consistently been my fiercest defender. I always joke that she is a "Ride or Die" mom. A proud lioness, very protective of her cubs - even if if means protecting them even from their crazy selves.

Her name, Jamila - beautiful - full encompasses her. She has beautiful character and beautiful intentions. She has been tested in ways we cannot even imagine. Her life has been a series of tremendous difficulties and loss. But she has remained strong through them all. She is human though. She has cried, she has broken down at times. But never for long. Those were luxuries she wouldn't permit herself. There was always dinner to be made, family members to inquire about, or some other person or situation to mend. She has lived her life in service of others - in many ways, the best life there can be.

I felt the need to type this because in some ways, it helps the Feeling to go away. Yes, one day she will leave to return to the One who will call us all back at our appointed time. I hope that I am ready, and can remember that the Beloved will be calling back a beautiful servant, instead of focusing on my own, more natural "selfishly" inspired feelings of loss. More importantly, I hope I can make the rest of her life on this plane of existence something of happiness. Insha'Allah.

May Allah grant her a long, long life in His service. May Allah grant her an easy transition into the Next Life, whenever her time comes. May Allah grant her children the patience to accept and even show shukr when the time comes. May Allah make us good to her while she is still here. Ameen.

Required Reading

Islamica Magazine is, without a doubt, the best Islamic periodical out there right now. Besides beautiful layouts, interesting articles and an overall nur that emenates from the sincerity of intention behind it, I HIGHLY recommend everyone buy a subscription. For those in the U.S., it's only about $30.00.

If you think that's too much, then think for a moment what things we easily can spend $30.00 that don't even have a lasting benefit. I looked in my check register and found the following. Thirty bucks is:

-- less than my cell phone bill a month ($45.00), which I never use, always have extra minutes on, but refuse to change because I can't commit to a 2-year contract...I don't know where I will be in 6 months, much less two years!

--the same as my last doctor's visit copay which was an absolute waste of money since the doctor barely looked or listened to me and at the end threw me a prescription for antibiotics which I didn't bother filling, because I don't think she even heard what my ailment was. Argh!

--the same as three lunches from the "authentic" French cafe below my work.

--just slightly more than what it cost to do my taxes online this year (which turned out to be a total disappointment because I was expecting this huge refund and tell me why not only did I not get that, but I owe state taxes. Down with taxes! lol - excuse my Republican moment)

-- less than a tank of gas for my car - and probably yours too.

So there, we can all easily drop 30 bones left and right for stuff that is temporary, fleeting much like this *snap*. Homework assignment class (ahem, loyal reader of 1): purchase Islamica subscription. The other nice thing is that besides the four beautiful issues, you get an online subscription with it, so you can log in to the site and read the articles from there as well!

And no they don't pay me for this. But offers of employment are *always* welcome. :-D

Flavanols, Sterols and Chocolate - Oh MY!

Yeah, I just knew healthy chocolate was too good to be true.

Recent research has not established a link between flavanols and a reduced risk of cancer or heart disease, she said. And with obesity already a serious health problem, "the last thing we need is for Americans to think they can eat more chocolate."

Polygyny's Economic Sense

Slate's Tim Hartford's "duh" reasoning for polygyny's making sense. Even after all he says, his piece closes with

"...Nevertheless, I am resolutely against the practice of allowing several women to
marry one man. We men are downtrodden enough already."

Ha!

The Gift of the Grave

Br. Haroon, who recently lost his mother - May Allah grant her Success in the Next Life - posted a short reflection on the grave. His initial post about her passing is very moving. May Allah give us the strength and patience to be good to our mothers while they are with us. Ameen.

Death is like sleep because though we are on one level unconscious, largely frozen in place, we are deeply aware of things, able of interacting and conversing with others, whether physically near or far, absent or still present in the world. We can have painful, troubled sleep, pockmarked by incessant nightmares and ugly premonitions, or we can be calmed and contented by visions of wonderful things, of love, happiness and safety. All this while we are spending some time in our beds.

CheneyShootsHisFriendintheFace-gate Continued...

Okay people, I am going to need someone 'splane this one to me, because me no understand. You get shot in the face, by your BUDDY, suffer a heart attack as a result of it then feel the need to APOLOGIZE for the INCONVENIENCE YOU caused them! I mean, I dont think all the CTRL + B, U or Is in the world can fully express the indignance, the audacity, the disbelief that I feel at this situation.

Don't get me wrong, I know maybe the Islamic thing to do is turn the other cheek (for another mouthful of birdshot..j/k) but it's my own personal - how shall I say... 'dislike' - for the Vice President, who unjustly pushed us into a war so he and his defense contractor CEOs could make another qua-trillion dollars, which drives these posts. ARGH.

SERENITY NOW!!!!!

TRUE STORY!

I found this brief story on hahmed.com's blog. I can 100% vouch for the story; it's not another Muslim urban legend ("did you hear? So-and-So obscure celebrity is secretly MUSLIM"). In fact, my sister was friends with the sister whose SUV was stolen.

I would DEFINITELY have Sheikh Hamza CDs in my car on the chance that this could ever happen. However, given that it's going on 2 years with a broken CD player, it's kind of pointless.

Maybe I will leave my musbaha (prayer beads) draped around the gearshift.

BTW, if anyone out there dies when they see the price of the musbaha from UNS keep in mind that
1) it is not nearly the most expensive ones made by UNS
2) it's really HIGH quality, and the beads won't give you splinters like some $2.00 ones out there and
3) you are supporting a sincere, good Muslim business.

Although that doesn't completely take the bad taste out of one's mouth due to its high cost. As one sister relayed to me: a brother was showing his new, gorgeous prayer beads to her and said, "yeah, I'm still making payments on it." Asceticism in 5 easy installments of 19.95!

Google Video has the Muslim Episode!

Thanks to Shaykh Faraz I found that episode of the "30 Days" show on Google Video. Insha'Allah looking forward to seeing it.

Some Takes on CheneyShootsHisFriendintheFace-gate

Hilarious. There are about 6 total.

(I know I know...it's borderline wrong. But hey, at least no one is being called fat or ugly.)

Another Study that Confirms Common Knowledge...

Yet, this one is kind of sad...but also not a huge surprise. Brings new meaning to the phrase "it's a crime to be that ugly."

For the record, there are two words that are totally outside my vocabulary: fat and ugly. I have always had trouble hearing those words, and it's difficult to say and even type them! There are soooo many useful alternatives for either word. However, the reality is, there really is no need to use them in the course of normal discourse. If someone is describing another as either of those things then not only are they committing backbiting (one of the biggest sins!) but they are, from an Islamic p.o.v. essentially handing over their good works to that person on a silver platter.

It all goes back to my usual thing: you're standing there on Judgment Day, and in your mind you remember "wow, well I SURE am glad I prayed tahajjud every night for 40 years" and then you are reminded how you used to sit around and talk smack about So-and-So, and next thing you know, So-and-So comes over and takes that 40 years of superogatory salat and throws it on THEIR scale. Not a pretty picture. It's like being Punk'd. Except Real. And not funny.

New York Times Piece on Afghan Violence

This article talks about what I said in my earlier post about Afghans and the whole suicide bomber thing. At first, honestly, I felt vindicated about the fact that these bombers are NOT by and large Afghans. However, what's the point? Really. It just gives Afghans another reason to (if they are not Pashtun) hate Pastuns, or (if they are Pashtun) hate Pakistanis. Either way you look at it, someone is being hated, and brothers are turning on brothers.

The answer is not some kind of Rodney King-esque "can't we all just get along" hug, but a RETURN to our Islamic roots, and for the Muslims there (and here!) to recognize that random acts of violence have no place in our religious tradition. Moreso, to remember that we all will be standing together on the Plane of Judgment, and we will have to answer for all the wrongs we did. How can one stand before God, glorious is He, and try to justify killing innocents in HIS name?? Subhan Allah. For real.

Great piece on Arranged Marriage in America...

I found this great article via my favorite blog. Even though she is writing from a Jain/Hindu Indian perspective, many of her complaints, insights and observations can be extrapolated to the South Asian, Afghan or Muslim-American community.
At the core really is this struggle mainly in the camp of Western women from "traditional" backgrounds. I think it's fair to say men don't have the same thing. To illustrate:

My younger brother is an engineer who works for a consulting firm, very tall and (as embarrassing as it is to admit this) handsome (**barfing sounds**). He went to a good school, comes from a good family and, thanks to my mom, has turned out to be an extremely polite, generous and nice guy. He's got it all. People are constantly telling our family about this girl or that girl that they know. There are the girls from here or the girls from "back home."

There are pluses and minuses to both groups. For the girls from "back home" it is assumed they will be only the prettiest girls with super traditional in their values and would make good uncomplaining and dutiful daughter-in-laws, and come from good families (including our own, in an extended way). They would speak the Dari and Pashto which we speak with terrible American accents. The minuses for the girls from "back home" is there is the fact that she will likely try to pull that chain immigration thing to import every last single family member and we would spend the rest of our lives at the INS office filling out sponsorship forms. And that is really not so bad, is it.

Now, the pluses of the girls found here: educated, have jobs (also a minus if one is looking for that traditional baby machine type wife), and not having to go far for the festivities and spend a good portion of the remainder of your life filling out sponsorship forms because her family is all here. Oh yes, and then there is that marginal plus that he will actually get to know the girl and decide if he likes her beforehand. This however is superogatory and not a necessary step.

NOW the minuses are the killer here: she may have been "loose" (i.e. partied, hung out her friends, or heavens forbid: visited a "discotech"/CLUB or otherwise had a life outside of her books and serving her family); she may not want to live with her in-laws (very important to Afghans), she may be too Americanized in other senses, she might be dramatic, she might have had other relationships and not be, as New York Times resident feminist Maureen Dowd would call it, the "virgin in a gingham dress" that ALL men really want deep down.

For women here, Western women with a traditional background, the cards are stacked against us. Marrying a guy from back home is a surefire way to really bring a CLASH OF CIVILIZATIONS OF EPIC PROPORTIONS. We simply won't be able to fit the role of homebody, baby-making servant that is expected by those men. We also are generally more independent and this not needing the guy thing really affects "back home" guys. And we don't want to be someone's green card to Freedom and Economic Opportunity. (Yet, it's totally okay if the "back home" wife does, and is expected to not only use it for herself, but her whole family as well.)

The guys here are looking over our heads to the girls in the gingham shalwar kameez. And if they are not looking back home, they seem to expect the women here to be AS MUCH like the back home girls as possible. There is this theme of men talking about how they want this independent, educated sister and soon as they realize that that entails a woman who WILL challenge them, who DOES have a mind and interests of her own - they start talking second wife or moping around like puppies who wished he boarded that overnight train to Back Home Wifedom.

However, this doesn't apply to converts who seem to have no end of marriage proposals upon setting their foot into the masjid the day of their shahada. But that's for another day or ten.

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Excuse this crazy post, I had a million interruptions and too many ideas to fit into one place. And no, I am not accepting applications on behalf of my brother. Banking on the fact that he is a prize catch, he has decided to wait a few years.

And the Gold for Uncommitted Blogging Goes To..

Upon the advice of a certain group of people, let's call them "friends" for our purposes here, I have decided to resume blogging. They insisted I share my Genius with the world. However, since I can't seem to find it (I probably left it in my other bag) I will instead commit to updating my blah-g.

Peace be upon my readers, all three of you plus the random people commenting on this sad thing in order to get me to comment on their own sad blogs.

So much has happened since I last left a post.

For starters, I managed to not got to the gym for the last 5 months, thereby cementing my reputation as the Best Prey for Gym Membership Bloodsuckers. The membership finally expired along with grand I flushed into the toilet last year for it. Too bad they weren't pre-tax dollars, but alas, I wasn't even afforded that little mercy.

Let's see what else has happened. Oh, alhamdulAllah, I am MUCH closer to my goal of being 100% DEBT and INTEREST FREE. There is still a ways to go, but that has been a very important goal of mine for a while now. Once I am finally free from these chains I am going to throw a party and yes, all dedicated readers are my guests of honor. (Can the two of your bring drinks and cutlery?) And yes I will say "Free at Last, Free at Last. Thank GOD Almighty I'm free at Last!" And for those out there who think that some debts are "good debts" (i.e. student loans) then take a moment to listen to Anwar al-Awlaki's Hereafter CDs, particularly the section on what happens to those who dealt in interest in this life. I don't plan on going shopping for God-proof body armor anytime soon, how about you?

Oh yes, and I continue to be unsatisfactorally (is that a word?) under-employed. While my heart is yearning to study Arabic or the deen or save hungry children or bring clean water to villages, my hands are continuing to go through the motions of corporate slavedom.

Basically, I am not in the greatest shape, a little less broke, and still unfulfilled with my job. I would call it a pretty good six months. Besides, I managed to not get shot in the face by the Vice President, unlike some other people. (I know, random, but someone had to say it.)

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Can I get a masha'Allah for this brother? I love to see Muslims doing stuff that we traditionally scoff at as only for privileged white folks. Like winning pageants and ending up in Glamour mag...all the while keeping it real.