Alhamdullillah it's Mac time...
Everyone human being is defined by his/her struggle...which is characterized by how much they are struggling to achieve their objectives in life.
For some unfortunately their objectives need immense revision for others, they must consistently re-look and remember their objectives in life.
For me I hope and pray that my objectives in life all lead to one goal, that is the goal to meet my creator and to have achieved some minute objective in this life that allows me inshAllah to stand in front of my Lord.
Life goes on and we all eventually surrender to its fragrance and seduction, all that is except those who remember that there is nothing more temporary in this life than life itself.
The very definition of earthly Life can be described as a fleeting moment. Look back, think and remember your very first day in kindergarten...I for one cannot remember it, then try and remember your very first day of school, then look at your very first day in university or at work...then look at yourself today and see how they years have passed you by....in a fleeting moment...all your experiences can be boxed in a box called 10/20/30 years...sure some may have no so called regrets but think,ponder and contemplate on how time has passed you by.
Rather I should say how time has passed us by....
That line on the testpads, I used to see in my school exams was right, Time and Tide wait for no man
Life is not meant to be experienced, or lived, rather Life is meant to be Understood.Its Purpose,It's Meaning,It's existence...my existence..your existence...our existence
The sharing of the planet,it's resources which are limited but have been made to appear so and everything in the sky,the earth, in between and beyond....
Ask yourself, why was it made and then ponder,reflect and analyze your answer and see what you come up with...
Alhamdullillah....Allah made me a Muslim..may he always keep me on this path..Ameen
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Monday, April 04, 2011
Monday, January 24, 2011
My Cultural Heritage and Me
This is an essay I wrote for a youth conference a couple of months ago:
My Cultural Heritage and Me
As I read the title of this essay that I am supposed to write for the 4th IYEP a myriad of thoughts engulfed me as I thought which cultural heritage that I have that i should write about. Aahh...I digress, before that let me introduce myself as a global citizen, one who was born in West Africa, raised in Southeast Asia yet I am from the North of that gigantic country known as India, known as a land rich in spices and culture.
When the question of culture rises, I suppose that a definition would mean the traditions which include the clothes I wear on special occasions as well as the type of food I eat, if that is taken to be the definition then I can definitely identify myself with Indian or rather South Asian culture. However if culture is defined as the way in which I think ideologically or perhaps a better word is align myself in terms of thinking then I can definitely say that I have a somewhat ‘rojak’ or mixed culture with influences from the American/British ways of thinking [due to my schooling and its education], as well as the Arab and Malay ways [due to the influence of friends] as well as a variety of various other cultures.
If the above paragraph shows a picture of an extremely culturally confused and ignorant person, then I must concur that I am guilty as charged. I am in somewhat of an identity crisis when it comes to culture, whilst I strongly identify with the positive family values of the Indian culture, I also believe that respect must be earned and not given on the basis of seniority, an idea some would say is an American import. Having not had any real pressure from my parents to strictly follow and adhere to certain Indian customs has allowed me to view the Indian culture in a more positive light than some of my peers who rejected it completely and as a reactionary measure embraced a culture that was completely alien to them.
In recent times I feel that more and more people are becoming racial and cultural conscious. This perhaps is due to the constant harping of certain players on the world scene on the differences between civilisations and cultures, or as one person would have it “a clash of civilisations”, as opposed to the similarities between civilisations and cultures, or the “collaboration of civilisations and cultures”
In this world unfortunately whilst communication barriers are being broken down every day, I feel that in place of them there are more psychological and emotional barriers being formed between communities and cultures. As a result of this blanket attack by a few quarters on my culture, I somehow fell more strongly connected to it than I would have 6-7 years ago. Perhaps this retrospection is good as it enables me to start to look for the good in my culture and in the process of that I hope to find the good in other cultures.
Perhaps something that has impacted me in the way I associate myself to my confused cultural heritage is the knowledge I consume and the language and sources by which I obtain it. I dream in English and that according to psychologists means that English is my mother tongue, which is a bit odd seeing as how I couldn’t speak English until the age of 3, which is when I started going to school. The material that I consume impacts the way I think, talk and even act. Hence seeing as how mine and most of the rest of the world, primary source of information is in English, we all exhibit at times a certain similar type of cultural thinking. This impacts the way I look at things and events, the movies and media I consume, and the information I digest. So yes I can say that I am partly if not greatly influenced by Western culture, whether that may be eating pop corn whilst I am watching a movie or eating fast food on a regular basis, I am lead to the conclusion that whilst I want to believe that because I have lived in and met a great variety of people I am different, I fear I am no different from the sheep that is being lead by the shepherd. I fear that in this world where a few people control a vast majority of information, I am being lead and not doing the leading, I fear I am a product of Western culture who hides behind his ethnicity to try and prove that he is deep and mature , whereas in reality I am shallow and naive.
Having said that , I feel that in every culture there is something that can be learnt , both good and bad. The heritage and legacy that I would like to pass on to my children, God Willing, would be that irrespective of our differences in clothes, sizes, shapes, spices, food or whatever it is that we identify with our cultures we are all equal in the eyes of God, differentiated only by our levels of piety.
My Cultural Heritage and Me
As I read the title of this essay that I am supposed to write for the 4th IYEP a myriad of thoughts engulfed me as I thought which cultural heritage that I have that i should write about. Aahh...I digress, before that let me introduce myself as a global citizen, one who was born in West Africa, raised in Southeast Asia yet I am from the North of that gigantic country known as India, known as a land rich in spices and culture.
When the question of culture rises, I suppose that a definition would mean the traditions which include the clothes I wear on special occasions as well as the type of food I eat, if that is taken to be the definition then I can definitely identify myself with Indian or rather South Asian culture. However if culture is defined as the way in which I think ideologically or perhaps a better word is align myself in terms of thinking then I can definitely say that I have a somewhat ‘rojak’ or mixed culture with influences from the American/British ways of thinking [due to my schooling and its education], as well as the Arab and Malay ways [due to the influence of friends] as well as a variety of various other cultures.
If the above paragraph shows a picture of an extremely culturally confused and ignorant person, then I must concur that I am guilty as charged. I am in somewhat of an identity crisis when it comes to culture, whilst I strongly identify with the positive family values of the Indian culture, I also believe that respect must be earned and not given on the basis of seniority, an idea some would say is an American import. Having not had any real pressure from my parents to strictly follow and adhere to certain Indian customs has allowed me to view the Indian culture in a more positive light than some of my peers who rejected it completely and as a reactionary measure embraced a culture that was completely alien to them.
In recent times I feel that more and more people are becoming racial and cultural conscious. This perhaps is due to the constant harping of certain players on the world scene on the differences between civilisations and cultures, or as one person would have it “a clash of civilisations”, as opposed to the similarities between civilisations and cultures, or the “collaboration of civilisations and cultures”
In this world unfortunately whilst communication barriers are being broken down every day, I feel that in place of them there are more psychological and emotional barriers being formed between communities and cultures. As a result of this blanket attack by a few quarters on my culture, I somehow fell more strongly connected to it than I would have 6-7 years ago. Perhaps this retrospection is good as it enables me to start to look for the good in my culture and in the process of that I hope to find the good in other cultures.
Perhaps something that has impacted me in the way I associate myself to my confused cultural heritage is the knowledge I consume and the language and sources by which I obtain it. I dream in English and that according to psychologists means that English is my mother tongue, which is a bit odd seeing as how I couldn’t speak English until the age of 3, which is when I started going to school. The material that I consume impacts the way I think, talk and even act. Hence seeing as how mine and most of the rest of the world, primary source of information is in English, we all exhibit at times a certain similar type of cultural thinking. This impacts the way I look at things and events, the movies and media I consume, and the information I digest. So yes I can say that I am partly if not greatly influenced by Western culture, whether that may be eating pop corn whilst I am watching a movie or eating fast food on a regular basis, I am lead to the conclusion that whilst I want to believe that because I have lived in and met a great variety of people I am different, I fear I am no different from the sheep that is being lead by the shepherd. I fear that in this world where a few people control a vast majority of information, I am being lead and not doing the leading, I fear I am a product of Western culture who hides behind his ethnicity to try and prove that he is deep and mature , whereas in reality I am shallow and naive.
Having said that , I feel that in every culture there is something that can be learnt , both good and bad. The heritage and legacy that I would like to pass on to my children, God Willing, would be that irrespective of our differences in clothes, sizes, shapes, spices, food or whatever it is that we identify with our cultures we are all equal in the eyes of God, differentiated only by our levels of piety.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Greetings of peace
This is a story I came up with at 2 am last night...its been a while...
Greetings of Peace
It is Friday, the thirteenth of Ramadan, 1482AH, I suddenly feel very exhausted. Just as I am about to go for Friday prayers my legs feel exhausted, as if they cannot support my weight anymore. Then I feel myself collapsing and drag myself to the nearest sofa, as I do that I see an enormous creature before me...
....he has a smile so big I feel enveloped by a sense of worry which soon turns into a euphoric feeling. Is this I thought...is this...the time...is he the angel of death?...There appears to be a glow around him
In the distance hear the faint cries of my family saying...shouting in the distance.
It all seems so far away....yet in the distance I can see a man on a camel welcoming me with arms outstretched , and he to has a smile on his face. Who is this man with the white Jallabiyyah and such a kind face....his gestures are welcoming...
Suddenly I feel a pain that I have never felt before as my soul reaches my throat and then more screaming....
...and as my lips move for the last time they form the words “La.... ilaha Illal...Lah Muhammad Rasul...Lallah”. I can hear the doas of my family they envelop me and comfort me like a warm blanket on a cold winter day ....as the weather around me flows from a chill to a cold breeze on a warm summer day...in front of me I can see gardens with such beauty and splendor , with so much green and yellow and blue a kaleidoscope of colours and a smell so fragrant that even the rose I gave to my beloved wife on our honeymoon could not compare, and the delight that I feel as that smell draws closer...I swear by God never have I ever smelt something of that...in the world that I am leaving behind.
I ask myself where and why?....why?...what did I do to deserve such a reward...as I turn my face to my right I see the most beautiful creatures that I have ever seen and when I send greetings on them they reply with that wonderful greeting “Salama....Peace...Peace be upon you oh servant of Allah....you have truly fulfilled your destiny”.
I hear people washing my body, they wash it and my youngest son stands there...controlling his grief...as he performs the mandatory bath and covers my body with a simple white cloth.
I hear in the distance the Imam reciting the Janazah Prayer over my body as the congregation prays behind him....subhanallah how many people are here...I wonder as I see lines after lines fill up the masjid...
I look back at my life and think what did I do and I ask the angels...what have I done to be blessed with such a reward...pray do tell me so I can tell me fellow man to follow this path and do the deed that has brought me here...to this wonderful place. They reply “Allah loved that quality in you that when the world abandoned you, when the world did not believe in you, you turned to him and said “Oh My Lord! The Most beneficent! The Most Merciful! I seek sustenance from you!... Save my family and I...my Rabb ....save us from the evils of Riba and Bribery! Save us my Lord and give us Barakah in our earnings for you are the best to provide sustenance!”.
This the angels replied made you enter the Gardens of Bliss. I then stand in awe and reply to the angels , Allah [swt] gave me Mansions in the Dunia, he blessed me with good fortune and good company...and in the Akhirah he has blessed me with the company of the prophets and the akhirah is forever...
“Whoever submits his whole self to Allah, And is a doer of good, has grasped indeed the most trustworthy handhold; and with Allah rests the end and decision of (all) affairs”
Surah Luqman : Verse 22
Greetings of Peace
It is Friday, the thirteenth of Ramadan, 1482AH, I suddenly feel very exhausted. Just as I am about to go for Friday prayers my legs feel exhausted, as if they cannot support my weight anymore. Then I feel myself collapsing and drag myself to the nearest sofa, as I do that I see an enormous creature before me...
....he has a smile so big I feel enveloped by a sense of worry which soon turns into a euphoric feeling. Is this I thought...is this...the time...is he the angel of death?...There appears to be a glow around him
In the distance hear the faint cries of my family saying...shouting in the distance.
It all seems so far away....yet in the distance I can see a man on a camel welcoming me with arms outstretched , and he to has a smile on his face. Who is this man with the white Jallabiyyah and such a kind face....his gestures are welcoming...
Suddenly I feel a pain that I have never felt before as my soul reaches my throat and then more screaming....
...and as my lips move for the last time they form the words “La.... ilaha Illal...Lah Muhammad Rasul...Lallah”. I can hear the doas of my family they envelop me and comfort me like a warm blanket on a cold winter day ....as the weather around me flows from a chill to a cold breeze on a warm summer day...in front of me I can see gardens with such beauty and splendor , with so much green and yellow and blue a kaleidoscope of colours and a smell so fragrant that even the rose I gave to my beloved wife on our honeymoon could not compare, and the delight that I feel as that smell draws closer...I swear by God never have I ever smelt something of that...in the world that I am leaving behind.
I ask myself where and why?....why?...what did I do to deserve such a reward...as I turn my face to my right I see the most beautiful creatures that I have ever seen and when I send greetings on them they reply with that wonderful greeting “Salama....Peace...Peace be upon you oh servant of Allah....you have truly fulfilled your destiny”.
I hear people washing my body, they wash it and my youngest son stands there...controlling his grief...as he performs the mandatory bath and covers my body with a simple white cloth.
I hear in the distance the Imam reciting the Janazah Prayer over my body as the congregation prays behind him....subhanallah how many people are here...I wonder as I see lines after lines fill up the masjid...
I look back at my life and think what did I do and I ask the angels...what have I done to be blessed with such a reward...pray do tell me so I can tell me fellow man to follow this path and do the deed that has brought me here...to this wonderful place. They reply “Allah loved that quality in you that when the world abandoned you, when the world did not believe in you, you turned to him and said “Oh My Lord! The Most beneficent! The Most Merciful! I seek sustenance from you!... Save my family and I...my Rabb ....save us from the evils of Riba and Bribery! Save us my Lord and give us Barakah in our earnings for you are the best to provide sustenance!”.
This the angels replied made you enter the Gardens of Bliss. I then stand in awe and reply to the angels , Allah [swt] gave me Mansions in the Dunia, he blessed me with good fortune and good company...and in the Akhirah he has blessed me with the company of the prophets and the akhirah is forever...
“Whoever submits his whole self to Allah, And is a doer of good, has grasped indeed the most trustworthy handhold; and with Allah rests the end and decision of (all) affairs”
Surah Luqman : Verse 22
Monday, August 09, 2010
Sunday, January 10, 2010
As Busy as a BEE
Well I last blogged last year....
So much has been happenig that blogging is getting quite tough now...
Anyway my 2 latest projects:-
Golden Ratio Solutions
and White Kuffi Productions [still working on a website for this one]
--------------------------------------------------------
I have officially ventured into the world of business and I have to say it keeps me busy but happy! because of the challenges it poses my mind is constantly in motion trying to predict how to move next...InshAllah one day i'll own a company as big and impactful as Google/Twitter/Facebook.
And then I'll got to the SD people who interviewed me for 2 hours and say to them hey just because I was a foreigner you didn't give me the post...now I am here to buy your company.
So much has been happenig that blogging is getting quite tough now...
Anyway my 2 latest projects:-
Golden Ratio Solutions
and White Kuffi Productions [still working on a website for this one]
--------------------------------------------------------
I have officially ventured into the world of business and I have to say it keeps me busy but happy! because of the challenges it poses my mind is constantly in motion trying to predict how to move next...InshAllah one day i'll own a company as big and impactful as Google/Twitter/Facebook.
And then I'll got to the SD people who interviewed me for 2 hours and say to them hey just because I was a foreigner you didn't give me the post...now I am here to buy your company.
Monday, September 07, 2009
It has been 2 months since I posted anything. This a result of my travels as well as the many projects that I have been involved in. All of this will slowly unravel in the next couple of posts. Anyway for now enjoy:-
6th July 2009
Well folks...its that time again, When I head back to my Bharat (India). It was on Thursday the second of July when yours truly flew back to New Delhi after 2 years. Well I had heard that India had changed, I had seen the movies that depicted the trance-formation of India however nothing prepared me for the amount of Western influence on the land that has a huge history of culture and civilisation.
Anyway...we’ll discuss that in some other post inshAllah.
However reaching the Indira Gandhi Airport was a huge emotional moment for the family as it was the first time we were going to meet all the Chachas, Chachis, Khala, Khaluus, Mammus, Mammis and cousins for the first time after my Papa(May Allah have mercy on his soul) had passed away.
It was a long night with condolences offered and stories exchanged. It was 3am before i managed to get some sleep in my cousin’s flat in a place called Malvi-Nagar.
The next day was spent complaining about the 40 degree Celsius sweltering heat in the Delhi sun.
The last time I came to India I came in the heat as well however for some reason the heat this time is hotter. It’s like sitting in an oven with a hot fan blowing hot air into your face and then drinking cold Bisleri (mineral water-seeing as how we can’t drink normal drinking water from the tap as then we would be super-shitting) and then sitting around eating heavy and delicious Nihari curry, Chicken Kurma curry and eating...mangoes.
Now one who has never been to India in summer has no idea what I am talking about. However if one has been to India in the summer then one gets to sample all the different types of varieties available on the market, especially when one is blessed with a loving khandan (clan) such as myself.
The latest aam (mango) variety on the market is the langra (handicapped) mango variety. Why it is called as such I have no idea however knowing us Indians I am sure there is an elaborate folk story for the history of the “handicapped” mango.
It was on Saturday that a cousin of mine took us to visit some of the historical monuments in Delhi or Dilhi as it is pronounced in Hindi.
We first stopped at Humayouns tomb.This is a historical monument built by one of the mughal emperors as a tomb for him and his family. Althrough I don’t remember much of the history behind it is was interesting to note that there was a drianigae sys em implemented probably to drain the water from the rains. It was also interesting to note that the architecture of the entire tomb was highly symmetrical i.e. the tomb was enclosed in a square compound and hence everything of note in the tomb for example the many fountains and gardens were all shaped into squares and even their intricate designs had squarish details.
The next stop was India Gate. This is a monument built by the British in memory of the Indian soldiers who fought for them in the First world war. There is a fire that burns and has been burning since the inception of the monument which is guarded 24-7. It was interesting to note that there were a considerable amount of Muslim soldiers who fought for the British during the war.
We then drove to Cannought Place. I used to imagine that this was spelt Cannot Place and always wondered who would name such a place and why? Alas! my contemplation was in vain as sadly such a name did not exist. In Cannought Place there exists a shop known as Kevinders-apparently it is famous for its Milk Shakes. And indeed jostling in line trying to get a Milk shake I found out its fame was not exaggerated. This claim was further put to the test when I drunk their strawberry milkshake was delicious and might I add icy cold!
Next on the list was the famous Jama Masjid of Old Delhi. To get here and park would be a hastle so we decided to take the Metro from the Rajiv Chowk Metro station to the Chawri Bazaar Station. I have to say I am extremely impressed by the Metro service in Delhi and hope that soon God Willing it will be able to span Delhi and connect it all over. From the Chawri Bazaar station we took a 10 rupee rickshaw to Jama Masjid.
Jama Masjid was amazing. I love coming to the Jama Masjid area in Delhi, the smell of the restaurants and the frying chickens and the hustle and bustle of everyone doing their business in tiny shops is an experience and sight that one can’t find anywhere else. However I have to say that I do not like the lack of cleanliness in this mainly Muslim area. Being Muslim we have been told that being clean is a part of our faith however sadly I do not find this being practised in the Jama Masjoid area.
The Jama Masjid was built by the moghuls as are most historical monuments in the Delhi and Agra areas and again it is an architectural marvel, MashAllah.
In the Jama Masjid area we stopped to have a meal of Afghani Chicken and Mutton Birra. Two dishes which tastes out if this world . The flesh of the Mutton was tender and soft and when one bites into and pulls it comes away ever so perfectly in one’s mouth. This is probably due to the Masala and grill that the Mutton and chicken both have undergone before they reached our plates.
After that we headed back to the Malvi-Nagar area in New Delhi where my cousin lives having spent an extremely event filled day in Delhi.
6th July 2009
Well folks...its that time again, When I head back to my Bharat (India). It was on Thursday the second of July when yours truly flew back to New Delhi after 2 years. Well I had heard that India had changed, I had seen the movies that depicted the trance-formation of India however nothing prepared me for the amount of Western influence on the land that has a huge history of culture and civilisation.
Anyway...we’ll discuss that in some other post inshAllah.
However reaching the Indira Gandhi Airport was a huge emotional moment for the family as it was the first time we were going to meet all the Chachas, Chachis, Khala, Khaluus, Mammus, Mammis and cousins for the first time after my Papa(May Allah have mercy on his soul) had passed away.
It was a long night with condolences offered and stories exchanged. It was 3am before i managed to get some sleep in my cousin’s flat in a place called Malvi-Nagar.
The next day was spent complaining about the 40 degree Celsius sweltering heat in the Delhi sun.
The last time I came to India I came in the heat as well however for some reason the heat this time is hotter. It’s like sitting in an oven with a hot fan blowing hot air into your face and then drinking cold Bisleri (mineral water-seeing as how we can’t drink normal drinking water from the tap as then we would be super-shitting) and then sitting around eating heavy and delicious Nihari curry, Chicken Kurma curry and eating...mangoes.
Now one who has never been to India in summer has no idea what I am talking about. However if one has been to India in the summer then one gets to sample all the different types of varieties available on the market, especially when one is blessed with a loving khandan (clan) such as myself.
The latest aam (mango) variety on the market is the langra (handicapped) mango variety. Why it is called as such I have no idea however knowing us Indians I am sure there is an elaborate folk story for the history of the “handicapped” mango.
It was on Saturday that a cousin of mine took us to visit some of the historical monuments in Delhi or Dilhi as it is pronounced in Hindi.
We first stopped at Humayouns tomb.This is a historical monument built by one of the mughal emperors as a tomb for him and his family. Althrough I don’t remember much of the history behind it is was interesting to note that there was a drianigae sys em implemented probably to drain the water from the rains. It was also interesting to note that the architecture of the entire tomb was highly symmetrical i.e. the tomb was enclosed in a square compound and hence everything of note in the tomb for example the many fountains and gardens were all shaped into squares and even their intricate designs had squarish details.
The next stop was India Gate. This is a monument built by the British in memory of the Indian soldiers who fought for them in the First world war. There is a fire that burns and has been burning since the inception of the monument which is guarded 24-7. It was interesting to note that there were a considerable amount of Muslim soldiers who fought for the British during the war.
We then drove to Cannought Place. I used to imagine that this was spelt Cannot Place and always wondered who would name such a place and why? Alas! my contemplation was in vain as sadly such a name did not exist. In Cannought Place there exists a shop known as Kevinders-apparently it is famous for its Milk Shakes. And indeed jostling in line trying to get a Milk shake I found out its fame was not exaggerated. This claim was further put to the test when I drunk their strawberry milkshake was delicious and might I add icy cold!
Next on the list was the famous Jama Masjid of Old Delhi. To get here and park would be a hastle so we decided to take the Metro from the Rajiv Chowk Metro station to the Chawri Bazaar Station. I have to say I am extremely impressed by the Metro service in Delhi and hope that soon God Willing it will be able to span Delhi and connect it all over. From the Chawri Bazaar station we took a 10 rupee rickshaw to Jama Masjid.
Jama Masjid was amazing. I love coming to the Jama Masjid area in Delhi, the smell of the restaurants and the frying chickens and the hustle and bustle of everyone doing their business in tiny shops is an experience and sight that one can’t find anywhere else. However I have to say that I do not like the lack of cleanliness in this mainly Muslim area. Being Muslim we have been told that being clean is a part of our faith however sadly I do not find this being practised in the Jama Masjoid area.
The Jama Masjid was built by the moghuls as are most historical monuments in the Delhi and Agra areas and again it is an architectural marvel, MashAllah.
In the Jama Masjid area we stopped to have a meal of Afghani Chicken and Mutton Birra. Two dishes which tastes out if this world . The flesh of the Mutton was tender and soft and when one bites into and pulls it comes away ever so perfectly in one’s mouth. This is probably due to the Masala and grill that the Mutton and chicken both have undergone before they reached our plates.
After that we headed back to the Malvi-Nagar area in New Delhi where my cousin lives having spent an extremely event filled day in Delhi.
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