"House without Boundaries"

Hi Everyone,

We were picked up from John F. Kennedy Airport, and were driving to my first house in New jersey, me and my new husband. I was overwhelmed with feelings of such joy that I never experienced before. I could try to put those emotions into words, but I feel there are no words to contain them. This was the house my husband bought for me a few months before we got married. He was very excited to show me, and I somehow was supposed to turn this house into a home for us.

When the car entered our neighborhood, I noticed that there were beautiful big lawns in front of all the houses, and compared to my own country (Pakistan), where even big houses have relatively smaller lawns, this was a pleasant change. The snow covered lawns were looking magical at night as the snow was brightening the whole atmosphere, and the glare from the pure white snow was blinding the dream filled eyes of this newlywed girl. It was absolutely breathtaking and seemed as if I had just entered a winter wonderland. I was admiring each and every house as eagerly waiting to see my own.

This was the last house on the street, and my eagerness and suspense was building up as I wanted my house to be the best looking house in the neighborhood. As soon as the car pulled in the driveway, my heart started to sink, as I noticed my home had no boundary walls around it. All my admiration for the novel and clever idea of open yards of other houses, which I thought was beautifully adding to each other's aesthetics, was completely taken over by a chilling feeling of insecurity as I realized that I now have to live in a hemisphere where the values to live life are going to be very different from the hemisphere I just came from. I didn't know that a flight of a mere few hours was going to compel me to face such a drastic change. I said to myself,

"How am I going to live in a house for the rest of my life that has no "chaar diwari"?

I believe in my mind that I must have imagined a house, or more like a fort with really tall walls, where I would feel protected from everything and everybody and, along with my prince charming, would live happily ever after.

I didn't say anything to my new husband but I was feeling restless during the whole night. The next day Anwar went to work and my panic got the best of me and all my excitement of coming to my first house was consumed by feelings of insecurity as I felt unsafe and abandoned. The first time someone rang the doorbell, I was very hesitant to answer since I was used to the main gate being opened, the guests being announced, and then greeting them after straightening myself up. Instead, it was a meter man impatiently waiting for the door to open so he could go about his business. I had to open the door, and as I did it seemed that not only my house, but my whole being was intruded by a stranger. I did not like this and I began to miss my parent's house even more........the house I grew up in, the house where I felt protected by four walls. This guy just barged in with his hefty snow boots and started to wipe them on the "welcome mat". I had a rude awakening.

I can't put it into words, but even after living here for a few years I did not feel any sense of belonging to this house. When I started to feel comfortable in a house without "visible" boundaries, (although I admit it took me quite a while), my whole outlook about territorial boundaries changed. During the process of developing a sense of belonging to my house with no walls, I developed a mind and a thought process that did not have any limitations as well. It could go anywhere in the world, conquer anyone's heart, and was enabled to empathize with a person of every walk, every culture, and every religion, from anywhere in the world. I was unconsciously doing what my beautiful religion of Islam required me to do. All of a sudden, the world became very small to me, small enough to fit in the palm of my hand. There was no one left on the face of this earth whose mind I couldn't read, whose heart I couldn't touch, and whose pain I couldn't feel.

Although in our culture and our religion it is very important to live in a house with four walls for "purda" and privacy, a downside to this luxury our interest doesn't have to develop boundaries and stay right inside those walls. Also, our outlook doesn't have to become myopic as we don't see beyond our interest. I am sure this privacy of a "char diwari" comes in quite handy when a wife is getting beaten, when a young "bahu" is set on fire, and even when a daughter is killed in the name of honor. Sometimes these walls are built higher than required so the world can't see inside that how humanity is being slaughtered by human beings.

People have to understand that these issues are becoming too big to fit within those four walls since the world is becoming smaller by the day. Actually they have taken a life of their own and are bringing all the boundary walls down and reaching out further than anyone imagined as well as being acknowledged by people all over the world, as we saw in the case of "Mukhtaran Mai". The world is looking down at us because even as a Muslim nation, of all people, they treat women so badly and consider them weaker than men. You might be able to fence your atrocities in them, but you can't fence these issues in them as these issues have no boundaries......not anymore.

It is ironic that the walls that are built around our houses to make them safe havens, where we can take refuge, are often times providing protection to those as well from whom we need protection.

"jinakaa dii.n pairavii-e-kazbo-riyaa hai unako

himmat-e-kufr mile, jurat-e-tahaqiiq mile
jinake sar mu.ntazir-e-teG-e-jafaa hai.n unako
dast-e-qatil ko jhaTak dene kii taufiiq mile'

-Faiz Ahmed Faiz

Much Love,

Shehla

"Um'raan Langhi'aan Pabb'aan Bhaar"

Hi Everyone,

It seems like I am running out of interesting topics since I decided to write about marriage today. It is ironic that I am doing it now when things are slowing down in my life and I never thought of writing about it when I was going through a "full blown" marriage myself.

It is a very complex subject to write about as people certainly have definite and strong opinion about it, and I can only tell you from my own experience. Since my marriage was very much arranged, I felt completely off the hook going into it. The most precious gift I got from my parents, much more than even my precious gold and diamond jewelry, was an "arranged marriage" wrapped in their du'aas and blessings as if I stayed in the marriage, they would owe me their lives and God forbid if it didn't work out, I certainly have them to blame. So I entered this holy matrimony with a carefree mind, and what else helped me was my complete belief in the old punjabi saying, "Suni si tey dari si, payi si tey sahi si". Oh God, I just realized I am describing my marriage as a traumatic experience, which by the way can easily be blamed on my subconscious or my generational attitude.

Going through even a successful marriage is quite a humbling experience as nothing else can ground you the way a husband can. It seems as all your life you were residing on seventh heaven, and just took a "one way" trip to earth, in other words, you were pushed from a "takhat" to a "takhta". In my generation there was no turning back as my parents never sat me down and lectured me, but the message was loud and clear in the three words they said as I was leaving home, "Allah thay hava'ley". If there was such a thing called prenuptial agreement in my days, it would be between a girl and her parents as opposed to with her husband and it would definitely say,

DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT.

I am a big believer of the harsh fact that the minute a girl signs her marriage papers, the demon of divorce starts following her, and she consciously or unconsciously ends up spending most of her life running away from it. Also, no matter how good of a marriage she has, she can not be fooled by the false sense of security of a husband, as this talwaar will always be hanging on her head with either a loud verbal threat, or in most cases, with a subtle message in his eyes that only she can read.

Shakespeare said, "All the world's a stage and all the men and women players: they have their exits and their entrances; and one man in his time plays many parts, his acts being seven ages", but I think as a married woman in both an eastern and western society, I went up a notch and surpassed many of those roles. There were quite a few surprise characters for me to play and I kept adapting to these roles as I went along in my marriage and had pretty much "on the job training".

I spent most of my married life with a poker face as I wanted to keep my husband guessing. It really bothers me that girls these days put all their cards on the table, and the courtship they have before they are married is not worth much since the logic often given is that they get to know the guy and only thing she ends up knowing is the extent of his charm. Although the downside to getting a good husband is getting a boring husband, the charm in a guy that a girl falls for during their courtship becomes as scarce as a ghost, and the "cool guy" she married turns out to be the worst kind of husband, as he is more into flirting with his ego than he is into her.

In marriage I alway chose my battles carefully, and never felt like fighting on all grounds as I learned to cut my losses and walk away with my head high. I had my share of "out of body experiences" to survive in my marriage, or rather, I should say my marriage survived on my out of body experiences. I walked out of my being to do things that were not humanly possible for me to do, or even too degrading to bear as I was sitting back watching myself do things and say words that I totally didn't believe in, and for that I have often commended myself as well as condemned.

Only a woman would know how painful it is to leave the home she grew up in, where she left her fingerprints on everything and footprints on each and every corner, but still can't dare to overstay her welcome so she takes the biggest gamble with herself and starts to walk towards the "mirage" of her husband's house, which is yet to be realized........ and then the SUFFER (English/Urdu both) begins. Although the journey from my father's house to my husband's house was only of a few hours, it seems like it took me a lifetime to get to my HOME and to realize the "mirage" of my husband's house required to check my identity, my soul, and above all my ability to feel pain at the front door.

The countless steps I took between both places left no footprints as I believe I was never on solid ground.

Much love,

Shehla

"Kuri Thi Maa Dekho"

Hi Everyone,

In 1972 when I joined Kinnaird College, something triggered panic in my mother and she embarked on a mission (somewhat like a "Mission Impossible") to get rid of me. She labeled this quest of hers "My Marriage" and started to entertain families for that sole purpose. It might be illegal now but my sister Ghazala , who was only 18 months older than me, got engaged to my first cousin at the age of 13, so I was my mother's next project since all my aunts would talk about how hard it was to get good matches for girls once they were over 20 years of age.

One odd thing that I noticed was that whenever a family would come for me, after "checking me out"they would be all about my mother. As I would be sitting there with a dumbfounded look on my face, my mother would turn on her charm, which was not hard for her as she was a very charming lady to begin with and people would get very impressed with her warmth and beautiful personality.

A few years after my mother successfully married me off (way off), I heard the old saying, "Kuri na dekho, kuri thi maa dekho", and finally figured out why my mother got more attention than I ever did from those "godforsaken" rishtas. If you look at it realistically, it makes good sense that when you look at the mother, you can pretty much tell how this skinny, shy girl is going to turn out, or more importantly, what she'll look like a few years down the line. When I repeatedly caught myself behaving and talking just like my mother, I started believing in this old saying as well.

Since I am a mother of four daughters, I find myself in the same situation that my poor mother was in more than 30 years ago. Actually it puts a lot of pressure on me, and on top of that, people are not as subtle and refined as they used to be. A couple of families took it a little too far, following the old saying literally and keeping their focus on me although I would still have the same dumbfounded look on my face. I am pretty sure they thought that there was going to be a "package deal" and somehow I was going to be a part of that package, meaning whatever my daughters lacked (being American born) I would make up for (such as a 'chicken chawal supply line'). I don't know if any of you have experienced anything like that yet, but I am quite sure you will.

I have a NEWS FLASH for all the suitors and their families: whoever came or will come for my daughters or your daughters......our daughters may look like us, but they won't be as patient, as compromising, and definitely not as subservient as we were, so please stop looking at us and look at them because with this generation, "what you see is what you get".

"Kuri thi maa na dekho, kuri dekho"

Much love,

Shehla

"The Roving Eye"

Hi Everyone,

Anwar and I have an American friend whose wife died suddenly, leaving two young children behind ages 8 and 10. The guy was devastated. My husband and I used to wonder if he was ever going to recover from this tragedy, but then his recovery turned out to be more instant than instant coffee as one fine morning I saw him with his new bride, looking happier than ever. I literally did a double take.

The question that came to my mind was: how come husbands "recover" so quickly from wives, "dead" or "alive"? I think that the second they say "I DO" they are already in recovery, and the minute she goes or overstays her welcome (overstay in some cases can easily start right away) in the holy matrimony, they take a plunge somewhere else in the pursuit of happiness and often times, like Tiger Woods ended up, "looking for love " in all the wrong places.

Tiger Woods, who is well liked and admired, is someone that I, for some reason, never cared for. I don't trust a guy who hardly blinks his eyes......he scares the daylights out of me. Having a gorgeous and classy looking wife as well as two beautiful children obviously was not "sweet" enough for him as he popped quite a few bimbos like Tic Tacs.

Then comes John Edwards, who tries too hard to look like a decent "all American" guy. However, his icy, glassy blue eyes are a dead giveaway that he can't fool us and especially not his wife for long. I don't mean to make light of such a sad situation but I think his terminally ill wife is staying alive just to eat him piece-by-piece.......YOU GO GIRL.

Prince Charles, in my opinion, is a classic example of a husband who moved on faster than expected. Although he was divorced at the time, I still think he traded in his beautiful, classic trophy wife Lady Diana with Camilla Parker Bowles, which is like trading in a 7 Series black BMW (my all time favorite) for a mousy gray Chrysler minivan. We all know that every guy wants to marry his mother, but he went a little too far.

The "Hollywood handsome" Bill Clinton, who in my humble opinion was too good looking for a president, jeopardized his "stay" in the White House just because his "roving eye" spotted a young, plump, goofy looking intern while he had a wife with a brain and intellect that any man would fall in love with. Any man but her husband that is, which makes sense since being a smart woman is a big negative for a successful marriage.

Last but not least is the president of my beloved country Pakistan, Asif Ali Zardari. My last memory of him before he crowned himself to the throne of Pakistan People's Party was when he was walking behind Benazir Bhutto as she was entering The National Assembly as a Prime Minister. He was wearing an ordinary shalwar kameez and a traditional Sindhi topi, looking like her hired help with a personality of -5 on a scale of 1-10. After her untimely demise, you see him now wearing well tailored Italian suits, with a hairdo that up until now only Clark Gable could pull off, and a non stop smirk that annoys the hell out of everybody. He is literally laughing all the way to the Swiss banks.

I have been married long enough but still fail to understand what it is in a husband's psyche that makes him take these plunges so fearlessly. The justification often provided is that they were not getting enough "love" at home. If they can't make their wives love them who else do they have a chance with?

All the men mentioned above are very different from each other and are from different walks of life. The only thing they might have in common, besides the lack of common sense, is an overrated male ego, then again inflated by lack of common sense. I was told by one of my friends, who lives in Pakistan, that back home having a Pajero Jeep and a girlfriend on the side (in that order) is a status symbol for rich, middle aged guys. I believe, regarding this very serious issue, that husbands behave like little, impressionable boys who have to have what the other boy has.

It seems that a husband's infidelity has become an epidemic. You can definitely categorize it as an infectious virus, and since science has developed Lasik surgery for the corrective vision, let's hope they can come up with a cure for the disease which could be more contagious than "pink eye", in this case, the "roving eye".

Much love,

Shehla

"Aye mere pya'rey watan, pak watan, pak watan"

Hi Everyone,

Although I left Pakistan at a young age and have lived in America for more than thirty years and am a citizen here now, I am still a Pakistani at heart. I was born a Pakistani, and will die a Pakistani insha'Allah.

Going back every year to my country has been a routine of mine from the beginning. I loved going home as it gave me strength of identity, sense of belonging, and kept me grounded as well. When my children were younger and my mother was "hayat", I used to stay for a few months at every visit. I would go in December, come back in April, and within couple of months started planning my next trip back.

When my father and my family started to come to visit me more often, you would think my "dying" to go back would "die" down a little, but it didn't. This made me realize that not only did I miss my family, but I craved the feeling of "coming home" to my country as well. As they say "you can take a girl out of Pakistan but you can't take Pakistan out of a girl". I just knew I had to go there.

I would get on the freakin' PIA (Pakistan's national airline) and start sucking up to Allah Mian big time for a safe landing since one of my friends told me PIA stands for "Please Inform Allah." When I would land, I'd start getting strange vibes as people at the airport were "unnecessarily" rude and only God knows for what reason resentful. One obvious reason could be that perhaps they thought that while I was cruising along from the Land of Oz, I decided to make a pit stop in Pakistan, on the way to the Garden of Eden, where dollars were growing in my backyard and all I had to do to get my share was to go out and pluck as many as my heart desired.....well I never wanted to correct them. When I would get out of the airport my eagerly awaiting family would make me feel very special, and my trip would already be well worth it.

Every year when I went back I would notice that my parents had aged a little, the kids there had grown taller, and the cost of living had gone up a little, but these changes would be quite subtle. Maybe I was nostalgic as I, for my own selfish reasons, wanted everything and everybody to stay the same and would have a hard time dealing with these changes.

For last ten years the changes I experienced every year have graduated from being subtle to pretty shocking. Now when I plan a trip back home, I make sure my will is updated. I land, come out of the airport and insecurity starts following me until the day I leave. I go to the bazaar and am astonished at what they are charging me for an outfit is much more than they would pay for a human life. Cost of LIVING is more than LIVING themselves, as things were never this "mehangi" and human life was never this "sassti." The contrast is mind blowing and the sad part is that the gap is getting wider between the two every time I go. It takes one trip to the bazaar for me to see how life has deteriorated in Pakistan in every sense of the word as what I see is a sea of people, some with deprivation, some with sadness, and some with hostility and anger in their eyes. To see countless young men around my son's age standing around the streets or roaming in bazars aimlessly wasting away their lives is quite heartbreaking.

And then there are bomb explosions which are not discriminating anymore. You go for Jummah prayers with your sons and might not come back. You send your child to school and the last thing on your mind would be his performance there. You can go to the slums, flea markets, or the fanciest restaurants and posh areas, and the terror will find you........"khoon ki khushbu" is everywhere. It is a sad sad time for my beloved country as our world renowned "Sajeeley Jawan" who lived to protect our borders, are dying almost everyday on the streets of almost every city in Pakistan while protecting Pakistan from the people of Pakistan.

I always believed that circumstances around us don't change as much as our "outlook" changes about them. Since I have lived abroad most of my life, my take on life has definitely changed. It saddens me to admit that this theory of mine is completely thrown out of the window regarding my beloved Pakistan as the kindness, forgiveness, and regard for humans which was weaved into our souls with the thread of our beautiful religion and culture is nowhere to be found and these things have vanished so quickly that my poor "outlook" is having trouble catching up.

The hardest thing for me to swallow personally are people's attitudes towards each other. The "nafsa nafsi" that I always related to the "Day of Qayamat" is evident in people from every class and every walk of life. Ever since I was a kid, I was told that on the Day of Qayamat there will be commotion everywhere, people will be running around, the earth will open up, and every soul will be all about itself, even to the extent that a mother won't know her own son. It hits me hard as I feel people from my beloved Pakistan are already experiencing Qayamat almost everyday as a mother whose son is blown apart into pieces, beyond recognition, has already gone through it.

"PAKISTAN PA'INDABAD"

Much love,

Shehla