"Irony"

                   "Sappan Dey Puttar Mittar Na Hondey Bhawein Chullian Dudh Piyaey

                       Gai Jawani Feir Nahin Aandi Bhawain Lakh Khurakaan Khaiyey"

Hi everyone,

I found myself standing at a jewelry counter way too many times before I realized I had a problem! I was only in my mid-twenties, a mother of three children, and I would somehow find the time to go to my favorite local jewelry store. 

During one of those aimless/harmless trips while drooling over the most beautiful diamond ring, the saleswoman threw me her pitch: "Oh this is a beautiful piece! Why don't you get it? It will look beautiful on your long fingers." I smiled and sighed simultaneously and said, "I wish I could but I can't afford it." 

Our dialogue caught the attention of a much older lady who was there to do some serious shopping. The lady said to me, "When I had young hands, beautiful fingers, and a desire to own beautiful jewelry, I couldn't afford a ring like this. Now, when I can easily afford it and still have a love for jewelry, my hands are old and wrinkled and my fingers are too swollen to wear a piece like this. That, my dear, is one of the ironies of life!" I nodded my head, gave her a smile loaded with empathy, but didn't quite get what she was saying.

I didn't realize at the time how circular this paradox can be!

Putting a positive twist on anything negative that comes my way is not only a passion of mine, it's a philosophy that rules and runs my life beautifully. I had to find something good in this particular irony of life. 

What I have found is that knowledge has to be time-released and stapled with some experience or it's somewhat wasted. Although the knowledge that you seek all through your life stops you from executing your life on ad hoc basis, it teaches you to pay heed to the deafening silences that you may come across at times following your naive outbreaks. It also holds you back from embracing your oxymoronic tendencies; it's not fully absorbed if you get it prematurely. 

The kind of irony that I encountered at that jewelry counter so many years ago is the kind that can keep you in hope, the kind that keeps you going. It's the kind of irony that can take you as far in life as you let it, as sometimes it's better if you don't know what life has in store for you until it's too late. Until then you play the hand you are dealt!

A few years back standing at the same jewelry counter, where I was the much older woman this time around, (ironically I got to that point at the speed of lightning) I spotted a young girl trying on a stunning bracelet while listening to the saleswoman's pitch. Her sighing and admitting that she couldn't afford it was temptation enough for me to jump in their conversation with the "great irony"under my belt, but I didn't. Rather, I wanted that young mind to find out on her own, in due time, what she has at this time is much more precious than a piece of jewelry. 

I believe that, so to speak, irony is behind a lot of successful human relationships; particularly the  mother of all relationships: Marriage. By the time one realizes that it's not an ideal situation it's already too late, as one has gone quite deep into the biggest investment of his/her life and then decides to try harder to make it work. In most cases things turn around and work out beautifully.    

Irony is not a bad word after all!

Much love,

Shehla

"Hajj 2014"

                                                
                           

                                     (Overlooking the Ka'aba during my pilgrimage)

                                                  "Yeh zamin jab na thi
                                                 Yeh jahaan jab na thaa
                                Chand suraj na they Aasmaan jab na thaa
                                Raaz-e-haq bhii kisi par Ayaan jab na thaa
                                             Jab na thaa kuch yahaan
                                              Thaa magar tuu hi tu

                                          Allah hu Allah hu Allah hu
                                          Allah hu Allah hu Allah hu"

The pilgrimage doesn't start the day you embark on your journey to Mecca, it starts the day you are old enough to know you are a Muslim, the day you see an image of Ka'aba on a piece of paper and can never shake it off, the day you realize and admit the power of supplication and moreso your need for it!

I took off on Saudi Airlines along with my son and daughter-in-law, leaving my whole world filled with my worldly belongings and overwhelming responsibilities behind to render my submission to my Creator, to thank Him for what he has given me, to ask for His forgiveness and for much much more.

Although your air carrier allows you plenty of luggage to take, it doesn't seem enough for the kind of baggage you are bringing along. You are carrying your sins, your repentances, your griefs, your losses, your shames, your scars, your shortcomings, your indulgences, your shikwas, and above all your modesty and  humility and all that is to be carried on your shoulders. You get there so tired with swollen feet, not from the 15 hour flight that you took, but from the back breaking load you have been carrying all through your life.

Standing in Haram facing the Ka'aba you fall apart, feel weak in your knees, try your best to stand upright while your whole flawed life flashes in front of your eyes. You don't have the heart or even courage to face his 'Jalal' along with millions of Muslims from all over the world and it is the most humbling moment to experience.

My 'Jholi' was so full with his blessings yet so empty since I always seem to want much more than He gives. I ask only Him as He tells me to ask only Him and I marvel at how His benevolence surpasses all my needs and all my wants and as He gives me much more than I ask for.

During my journey I needed to connect with the Almighty Allah like I never did or could before and the real connection I felt was during my sleepless nights. I would lay in my bed awake almost all night, crying with overwhelming repentances, praying for forgiveness, contemplating my future, asking for His guidance, begging for way too many things for my children, and pleading my case like no other can.

To see your inward act of intentions and your outward act of a journey come together beautifully, to see the processions of millions of relentless

Hajis, to see the solidarity of Muslims from each and every corner of the world is mind blowing and leaves you pretty shaken up!

Although I come back to my world filled with my worldly belongings and responsibilities, the countless tears I shed on the day of Arafat still have my eyes wet!

Much Love, 

Shehla 

"NIRVANA"

'Na Main Momin Vich Maseetaan

Na Main Vich Kufar Diyan Reetaan

Na Main Paakaan Vich Paleetaan

Na Main Moosa Na Firown

Bulleya Ki Jaana Main kaun'

Hi everyone,

Since I am from Punjab, the rice dish I grew up on is Pulao. I was introduced to Biryani much later in life and befriended it instantaneously. If you give me a plate of biryani and a bowl of vanilla ice cream, you can be eligible to ask for my kidney in return. 

Every time I go to a dinner party, I hope to be sent home with a small Tupperware  filled with leftovers of my favorite rice, given the hostess is gracious enough. 

 

A few weeks ago, I stumbled upon an extra gracious hostess who made me a small container of leftover Biryani to take home. The next day I started to eat it for lunch. I relished, or rather, inhaled the first few bites and thanked Allah for giving me such a generous friend. I even did du'a for her and every other person who was remotely related to her. 

  

I took few more bites and wondered why God is so good to me. After almost being done with it, while quite full as well, I forced myself to eat the last two spoonfuls just for the sake of finishing it. I noticed that there was a remarkable difference in taste from my first bite to the last spoonful as the last bite didn't taste nearly as good as the first one. 

Same food, same me, and same taste buds but drastic difference of taste!

It was very puzzling and was a sure call for Excedrin as I needed to connect the dots of life in my head before I could say 'what a paradox'!

Was my appetite, and my relish for it what added taste to it?

Do I have such power?

Is a relationship only priceless to me because I am paying way too much of a  price for it?

Is my chase of gold like a crazed person giving worth to it or is it  just a metal?

To me this was a 'nukta' that had the capability to unfold one of life's biggest mystery to me:

Why we own more than we need or will ever be able to use or even handle. It could be an expensive piece of jewelry  or a much sought after relationship. Most of our possessions stop giving us pleasure the moment they come in our possession. I didn't need to finish the whole damn plate of Biryani just because I loved it. 

The inner power that I have is totally nullified by my acquisitiveness. I don't need to oversimplify the connection between my inner strength and my indulgence of a weakness as it is simple enough. The taste that vanished from my food perhaps was never there to begin with!

Much love, 

Shehla

   

"I Wonder....."

Hi Everyone,

"Alif Allah Chambay Di Booti Tey Meray Murshid Mann Vich Lai Hoo

Ho Naïf Uss Baat Da Paani Dey Kay

Har Ragaay Harjai Hoo

Ho Joog Joog Jeevay Mera Murshid Sohna

Hatay Jiss Ay Booti Lai Ho"

I wonder why the walls we build around us end up being taller than the ones society does. 

I wonder why  the sky is the limit. 

I wonder why our lives are counted in years and not by the steps we take. 

I wonder why a door has to close for a new one to open.

I wonder why life takes its own sweet time to unfold its mysteries. 

I wonder why human relationships are much more complex than a human mind. 

I wonder why I am losing my looks and my mind simultaneously. 

I wonder why Angelina and Brad aren't married yet. 

I wonder why I started walking toward the end the moment I took my first steps.

I wonder why my gloves had to take fifty years to come off.  

I wonder why I don't recognize myself in the mirror anymore. 

I wonder why I  have to come at life with everything I acquired, innate, and then some...just to survive. 

I wonder why I had to lose my parents and why my children will have to lose theirs. 

I wonder why I spent half my life noticing things that I shouldn't have. 

I wonder why I feel the pain of my children before they feel it themselves. 

I wonder why I stopped looking up to people. 

I wonder why people stop taking you for granted the minute you start taking them for granted. 

I wonder why my heart has to be my Achilles' heel. 

I wonder why coffee is an acquired addiction. 

I wonder why my mind is going places where I thought it could never go. 

I wonder why God is so good to me. 

I wonder why I had to face the dichotomy of two cultures and then throw my children into it. 

I wonder why I am supposed to act as a good old grandmother when my grandkids are around. 

I wonder why life gets you when you are not looking. 

I wonder why humanity is being slaughtered by humans. 

I wonder why it takes so long to catch up to the philosophy of 'Catch 22'. 

I wonder why no one can beat us in the game of life like we beat ourselves.

I wonder why I thought for the longest time that I was just a pawn, when I was the whole game of chess. 

I wonder why you have to let go of your children to bring them back. 

I wonder why someone had to come up with the concept of daylight savings. 

I wonder why culture has the ability to surpass religion. 

I wonder why denials get you through life like nothing else can. 

I wonder why my bones don't agree with the notion that age is just a number.

I wonder why I run out of my prerogatives before I do of my fingers. 

I wonder why it's so hard to hold out the olive branch for my gender. 

I wonder why man proposes if God disposes. 

I wonder why marriage is called a gamble and not a calamity. 

I wonder why I didn't get a chance to say proper goodbyes to my parents. 

I wonder why we don't grow up until our parents die. 

Much Love,

Shehla