"20/20"

"Roney waalon sey kaho unka bhi rona ro lein
Jin ko majboori-e halaat ney roney naa dia
Aap kehte thay key roney sey naa badlengey naseeb
umr bhar aap ki is baat ney roney nah diya
Warna kya baat thi kis baat ney roney nah diya"

Hi everyone,

I was bored out of my mind as I had ample time and didn't know how to kill it. After climbing my four walls I turned on the Desi TV since I never knew of a better way to kill my boredom, although it subsequently kills my brain cells as well!

 

I stumbled upon a drama serial right in the middle of it's 8th episode. It was an engaging story line and was dripping with intrigue. I couldn't flip the channel and watched that episode with great relish. It was engrossing enough for me to want to go back and watch the serial from the beginning, something I do quite often. For some odd reason, this time around I opted to tackle that storyline differently. I picked up that drama serial online from it's 9th episode and watched it to the last one. I then went back and started to watch it from the beginning. This was the luxury I never indulged my self into! Since I knew the end I never thought I would enjoy the beginning at all--surprisingly I did! All my life I savored the movies that had me guessing till the very end. Needless to say this was atypical and surreal!

The beginning of the drama serial was much more compelling now since I became aware of the ending. I wondered why I always was more fascinated by the ending of a play although the beginning of the play calls for and definitely justifies more inquisitiveness! Although what we don't know about the future is considered a blessing, knowing the future and then go back and reflect on the past would have been on another level of awareness and indubitably the highest level of consciousness and would have had required a third eye!

Since I knew the ending I grew exceedingly critical of so many happenings while I was watching the whole time. I felt, in the storyline some obscurities needed to hit clarity, some denials needed to be faced, some facets needed to be accentuated and some inequities needed to be challenged! If it was up to me I would have had written the script myself and would have made so many changes in the storyline just so it would get the ending of my choice! My desperation to control was quite unsettling and left me frazzled! 

Knowing that I couldn't change the ending was highlighting my helplessness and that helplessness I would have had  felt all through my life if I knew the ending, so to speak mine! Although, Allah the merciful has shown me immense mercy throughout my life, the biggest mercy I consider is, Him keeping my fate and my destiny to Himself!

Everyone has a story to tell and quite often we catch people in our lives, when they are right in the middle of theirs. Quite often with a very engaging story line and at time with some intrigue as well. Overtime I have trained myself to be compassionate towards anyone I cross paths with since I have no idea how many  obscurities, how many denials and how many inequities they deal with on day to day basis. I don't know when my human eye became humane but it sure wasn't soon enough!

It's rudimentary for us mortals to second guess our each and every decision as each and every step we take has repercussions and each and every step we take conventionally leads to crossroads as well as alludes to our inability to prognosticate the fallouts. Hindsight is not only 20/20, it can be cruel and judgmental as well!

Much love,

Shehla

"Right to Bare Arms"

"Tu bacha bacha key na rakh issey tera aaina hey woh aaina
Key shikasta ho tou aziz ter hey nigahey aaina saz mein
Kabhi aye haqeeqatey muntazir nazar aa libasey mijaaz mein
Key hazaroun sajdey tarap rehey hein meri jabeeney niaz mein"

Hi everyone,

To raise the first generation of children for desi immigrant parents was a challenge I didn't know I had signed up for when I moved to this great country called America. It had to be on-the-job training since there was no template to follow, no counsel to rely upon and most importantly no one to cheer you on when you tackled the trickiest of curveballs life could ever throw at you. The dichotomy of two very divergent cultures was quite hard to face let alone overcome when you were to raise your children in the midst of it.

I had my first daughter when I had just turned twenty-one and before my thirtieth birthday I was a mother of four. I remember being overwhelmed and engulfed by such an enormous undertaking. The girls were growing up too fast for my blood and I struggled catching up with their growth spurts. Dressing them up in desi clothes, in my mind, was the one foolproof way to bring them up as proper muslim girls. I wouldn't miss any chance to present them to family and friends wrapped up as appropriately as possible to score a few brownie points with the community I lived in.

For some odd reason I was more fixated on the length of their sleeves, even more so than whether they were getting enough protein. I must have been looking at long sleeves as a symbol of morality! I very well knew that I had to draw the line somewhere, as far as their attire was concerned, and the length of their sleeves seemed to be the easiest one to draw at the moment. Perhaps in my petrified mind, the length of their sleeves was a barometer and an explicit reflection of how good or how bad of a mother I was!

Although, I wouldn't allow my daughters to wear sleeveless clothes growing up, their sleeves started to shrink as I started to evolve as a person. To date I truly am perplexed and mystified of this peculiar equation. It took me a good ten years to make a journey of ten inches in the world of sleeves. Finally, I reluctantly stopped at cap and was hoping to stay there till eternity. One fine day one of my daughters pointed to her cap sleeves and said, 'this is ridiculous, mom!' My heart skipped a beat, I looked at her very honest face and her very short sleeves simultaneously, took a deep breath and said it out loud 'yes Rabya, it is ridiculous!'

These few words liberated me in more ways than I care to admit. Rude awakenings were awaiting me at every corner I turned and I opted to open my eyes to every single one of them! I needed to register, comprehend and inhale the continent I was living in, I needed to take a journey within to question the authenticity as well as the credibility of my denials and I most certainly needed to look at morality panoramically!

Scruples is what they needed to be taught and I as a mother went to great lengths to comply. However, now was the time to look at their battles, look at their triumphs, look at their defeats, look at their approvals and look at their rejections with compassionate and empathetic eyes instead of foreign and judgmental ones!

I would be the first one to admit that my children taught me more about honesty in living than I ever could dare teach them. They were born in a different world, where life was light years ahead of where I came from. Although you have to set certain boundaries while raising children, it doesn't have to be as trivial as the length of their sleeves!

They might not have long sleeves but they have quite a bit up their sleeves! They walk around their world armed with self confidence, self reliance, self respect and infallible dignity! At times, when I am alone and I am dead sure that no one is looking, I put my hand on shoulder and say to myself 'If their bare arms are detrimental to their acceptance to anyone or anybody, so be it!'

Much love,
Shehla