Monday, 15 October 2012

INGBOOT



I like to think of myself as a writer, a thinker, a philosopher. But I’m not. I have no title. I’m just me. I wrote the lines below these lines, but I can’t seem to give it an identity. It’s not a poem, or an essay; or maybe it is a poem, or an essay. I found this saved as a word document on my desktop, named INGBOOT - I'm Never Going to Be One Of Them (dont ask!). It started off with a strong stance, until I realized I was stereotyping and talking from the surface. There was no pain, anger or resentment. If you’re expecting depth and revelations from the below words – don’t. If you find similarities or connections – I understand. If you don’t get anything at all – that’s okay, for it was written on (and this is how I had dated it on the original) a cold, boring, Monday morning.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I’m never going to be one of them.
Them with their five thousand dirham brands,
Shades, bling and high heels.

I’m never going to be one of them.
Them with their done nails,
Hair dyed and bleached.

I’m never going to be one of them.
Them with their fast cars,
Tinted windows and leather seats.

I’m never going to be one of them.
Them with their late night parties,
Non stop drinking and frivolous dancing.

I’m never going to be one of them.
Them with their hair flicking,
Lips pouting, peace signing, puppy eyeing.

I’m never going to be one of them.
Them with their friendly friends,
Friend’s friends, rich friends or wanna-be friends.

I’m never going to be one of them.
Them who reach the top,
Without hard work, dedication or effort.

I’m never going to be one of them,
Them who have people around them,
Because of how they look, what they wear and whom they’re with.

I’m never going to be one of them,
Them who don’t know the value,
Or even the value of value.

I’m never going to be one of them,
Them who say they’re living life,
When they do not know what life they’re living.

I’m never going to be one of them,
Them who try to do the impossible,
Like stopping death and/ or time.

I’m never going to be one of them,
Not because sometimes, I don’t want to,
But because I can never do.

I’m never going to be one of them,
I’m made from the same cloth,
Dust, clay, bone, that everyone is.

I’m never going to be one of them,
They are a niche, a cliché
Made to look like they are everyone.
But they are not everyone.
There is us.
There is me.
All together we make everyone.
But I’m never going to be one of them.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And now that I read it, I'm not too sure what exactly I was trying to say!

Thursday, 11 October 2012

Planning the Unplanned


A young lady leaves the country she was born and bought up in to pursue work opportunities abroad and support her family. Never before had a female from that family left home, let alone the country, to work. But these were desperate times. Every aeroplane she sees in the sky brings tears to her eyes. She counts the days and even the hours before she can be together with her parents and brothers again. It was a one year contract. Time was not moving fast enough.

Her employer calls her into his office one day. He has received an urgent telegram - her mother was sick. He reassures her about her job and tells her to remain calm, but he thinks she should go back home for a visit. The 7 hour long flight seemed to take forever.

She arrives at the airport. Most of her family was there except her mother. She panics a little. The car isn't going towards the hospital. They are driving home instead. She panics a little more. She expects the worst. She imagines walking into her family home and seeing the funeral of her mother. But she was so healthy when she left. How could things go so wrong so quickly? It had only been three months. She enters the house. There was no funeral. Her mother's body was not in the middle of the living room waiting for the last rites to be completed, as is customary in Sri Lanka. The house and all the people there were calm, but not a peaceful calm. There was tension in the air and nobody was talking. That made it worse. She greets everyone, and asks to be taken to the hospital to see her mother. She was at the verge of tears but being the strong person she is, she refuses to let her weakness to be shown. An older lady bursts into tears. She knew but didn't know at the same time. That's when they told her: her mother passed away days ago. She wouldn't get to see her for the last time. Or say goodbye. That was it. She was gone.

And with that a part of her died too.

A few days later she returns back to her job, in a country far away from her own. She had arranged for all the traditional rituals to be completed even after she was gone. This time there was no anxiousness. The aeroplanes in the sky did not bring tears to her eyes. She stopped counting the days and the hours before she can return to her father and her brothers. She lost a part of her being in Sri Lanka. Work took up all of her time and she settled in very well to her new environment. She saw the beauty of the gardens and the kindness of the people. The one year contract was extended and renewed again, and again, and again. There was nothing much left to hold onto from her past.

That was about to change when a few years later her employer got another phone call.

Extended family didn't really think too much about this young lady's future. She wasn't going to be young forever, and the only person who seemed very worried about this was her father. Marriage was the last thing on her mind. It was as if she had passed that stage - there was no more excitement when prospective suitors were mentioned. She had stopped caring and did not want to go through that chapter of life that she was once earnestly looking forward to. She flew back to Sri Lanka on another emergency leave. This time she was taken straight to the hospital. His situation was bad and he was getting worse every day. He seemed to have reached a point between life and death - he wasn't very much alive, but he wasn't dead either. The only emotion he would show was when he would see his worried daughter. He wanted to see her married. He wanted to know that she would be settled and cared for - that she wouldn't be alone in this world after everyone else moves on. Tears would flow from his eyes as he would gather the little energy he had to pray out loud. He wanted to know his daughter would be okay.

She tells her aunt to find someone. Anyone. She accepts to marry the next person who comes forward with a marriage proposal. This wasn't a decision for the romantic life she imagined she would have after marriage or for the children she wanted to raise. Instead, this was a decision to put the father she loved so much at peace.

Meanwhile, in another part of Colombo is another story. A young man had also left the country and the people he loved to work abroad. He earned pocketfuls of money and was able to give his family a decent life - their own house, regular meals, better clothes and a lot of added privileges. It was a hard life but returning home every year to see the happiness on his mother's face made it all worth it. She was all that mattered to him - his mother. Being the eldest son, he knew her sufferings. He saw her cry every night. He knew she gave up her meal so that she can try to feed her 8 children. But his hard work and efforts had bought better times for his family. In fact, he had raised their standards of living so high that at times they forgot their difficult beginnings.

The mother knew though that as much as he thought of his family, not many people would think of him in return. Yes, they loved him. But they did not have his traits of responsibility and ambition. His whole life he had been working for the family. It was time the family did something for him. She put out the word that she is looking for a bride for her eldest son. By that time he had a reputation of his own. Even though he lived out of the country for most of the year, people witnessed the great things he had done for his family.

This news reaches the ears of a father, looking for a husband for his only daughter. He sends messengers to bring forward the prospect of uniting the two families together. The young man's family thought about it and decided that she would be a good match for him. They visited the bride's family and after a quick introduction between the future bride and groom the engagement formalities were completed. This girl was spoken for this man. He had to return to Saudi Arabia to complete his contract, and when he returns a year later the marriage will take place.

He knew he had found the one he would spend the rest of his life with. Everything he heard about her and heard from her reassured him the right choice was made. His heart was filled with joy and excitement. The idea of marriage didn't really cross his mind before, but now that everything was confirmed, his mind wandered off to the future often. He couldn't wait to have his own family, his own children. His real life was about to begin.

 He orders for suits to be tailored for his father, brother and himself. Everything should be ready and perfect for next year. His contract finishes and he informs the company that he does not wish to renew. They ask him to reconsider - it is an important decision he has to make. He smiles, thanks them and lets them know that he has already taken an important decision, and he intends on committing to it. They wish him well and he returns back to his homeland, ready to start a whole new chapter of his life.

A few days after he arrives, wedding arrangements start to slow down. The joy and positive tension in the air was slowly being replaced with worry and negativity. His sister lets him know that they want to call off the engagement. Confusion and anger took over him. Why would this happen? Why now when they were so close? Apparently the family received information about the bride's past - something about a tarnished reputation. They were not 100% sure, but they didn't want to take a risk. He thought that this was all just silly and asked his family to think about it again. This is the reputation of an unmarried girl - do not talk about it unless you are very very sure! They had made up their mind - this girl was not going to marry their boy. But he had made up his mind too - he was not going to let them play with his life.

The only person who was quiet in this crowd was his mother. He walks up to her, cups her face in his hands and asks her what she thinks. She looks up at her eldest son, her eyes confused, but her opinion escaped her lips. She did not want this girl to be his bride. That's all it took. At that moment he pushed aside every hope and dream he had of growing a family, his family, with the girl he was briefly introduced to a year ago. He quietly removes the ring that had reminded him of an important life decision he had made and places it in the palm of his mother and then walks away.

He quickly found another job, this time in the U.A.E. He prepared himself to start another career in another country, far away from his own. Many other marriage proposals were bought to him, but none interested him. He had gone down that road once, and he didn't want to go through it again - not so soon at least.

A few months remained before his new contract begins. His mother sees something missing in her son. She feels guilty of perhaps hurting him without knowing it. She grew even more worried about his future. Her asthma condition became worse. She started crying again at night. She couldn't sleep properly anymore. Her son noticed her situation getting worse; her breathing even more difficult.

He knew what would make her feel better. He hugged her and told her that he accepts to marry the next girl she believes to be suitable. This wasn't a decision for the romantic life he imagined he would have after marriage or for the children he wanted to raise. Instead, this was a decision to put the mother he loved so much at peace.

A family friend approaches the mother and tells her about this young lady who had just come back from work abroad to visit her very sick father. Her mother had died years ago and her father is not in a very good condition. They are looking for a suitable groom and the marriage take place as soon as possible. She speaks highly of this young lady's character, upbringing and morals. Something tugged at this mother's heart. She tells the family friend to inform the other family - they would come to see the lady that very afternoon.

She were more than pleased by her. She had the exact characteristics and traits that would suit her son. She felt sorry for the situation her father was in and for her losing her mother, but she knew she would be able to take care of girl as her own. Since it was so sudden, they didn't have time to prepare. The mother removes her own ring and places it on the finger of the young lady. She was spoken for. The engagement was complete.

The young lady takes it all in her stride. She didn't have energy to be shocked. She was neither happy nor upset. This is exactly what she had asked for. She walks up to her father, lying in his bed. She touches his hair. He wakes up and looks at her with his sad eyes. She shows him the ring. He knows. He touches his only daughter's face and smiles for the first time. She smiles back, knowing she had made the right decision. He places his hands on his chest, closes his eyes, and says in one final breath "Allahu Akbar" (God is great). That was all he wanted to see. He wanted to know that she would be settled and cared for - that she wouldn't be alone in this world after everyone else moves on. Now he knew. Now he could move on.

Exactly 40 days after her father's death, exactly 40 days after she had become an orphan, she puts on her veil and looks at herself in the mirror. She was the bride at the wedding tonight. The excitement her mother would have had, or the tension her father would have had on the biggest day of their daughter's life was missing. They were missing. They were missed. There was no joy dancing in her eyes. She had seen her father breath his last with those very eyes. Just 40 days ago.

The groom enters the wedding hall and lays eyes on the lady he will be spending the rest of his life with for the first time. They hadn't seen each other, nor spoken to each other. This marriage wasn't a decision for themselves. It was a decision taken for their parents; by their parents. She was nothing he imagined his wife to look like. He felt sorry for what she went through, but he didn't like her. It was too late now though. The nikaah (marriage contract) was signed, the rings exchanged, the dinner being served. It was too late.

Fast forward to the present day. 

As much as they weren't fond of each other on a day most couples fall in love - on their wedding day; they found out very soon after that they were perfect for each other. Were their personalities the same? No. Not even close. But that's what made them perfect - they completed each other. She was his strength when he was at his weakest and he protected her when she was the most naive. They rarely agreed with each other, but they were a team when it came to the outside world. A whole and complete team. Looking back at the different episodes in their lives, they might have been absolutely destroyed if it wasn't for the presence of each other.

He found that he fell in love with her morals and principles. He was able to trust her and never doubted her throughout their marriage. She saw beyond his short temper and was able to find the caring husband she never thought to exist in him. They had the children they always wanted to raise. They got the life they always wanted.

Only it was given to them when they least expected.

-x-x-x-x-x-

You see, if that lady's mother was alive, she would not have waited so long to give her daughter in marriage. If her father did not fall ill, the lady would not have accepted the next proposal that came to her without even seeing the man. If that young man's engagement did not break and his mother not fall ill, he would not have agreed to marry the next girl his mother thought was suitable. Years into their marriage, they find out they were the best for each other in every possible way.

Everything happens for a reason. Even though at the time nothing makes sense and nothing good could ever come out of it, God has a greater plan. These were difficult times that both the young lady and young man were going through. They were being tested. Their plans were going wrong. They accepted their fate for other reasons, but in reality, they were the ones who benefited the most.

This is not written in support of arranged marriages, or children accepting  marriage when parents threaten them with ill health or a failing heart. I'm not saying that their parents had to fall sick and even pass away for them to have happy lives.I'm not saying don't be proactive, a planner and just wait for fate to play its game. No. It's just that when things don't go your way, no matter how much you thought it through, try to remain calm and look forward to the point in your life (it may be near, it may be far) when it will all make sense. This is probably easier said than done, but keep faith. 

Keep faith in the Creator, Superior power, Master, Boss, Big Guy, God - whatever title you give Him. Better times will come.

I know it will.

This was a true story by the way. The young lady is my mother. The young man is my father.




Tuesday, 9 October 2012

Showering the Baby



Somtimes, when I miss my friends, I tend to wander back into my inbox and re-read random emails we would have exchanged (no, it's not creepy. People do it ALL the time!). There are some people who like to clear their inbox. I hardly ever delete emails (unless they're junk, ads or one of those virus ones), so I have emails that go back YEARS.  That's a healthy archive to rely on a nostalgic day. 

This is an excerpt from an email I found - written by me on the 11th of January 2011. It was sent to a group of friends. We were invited to a friend's baby shower and below was the dialogue that went on between my dad and me, when I was asking for permission to go. We live in Abu Dhabi, and the shower was in Dubai in the evening, which meant I would have to spend the night at another friend's house. If you are Sri Lankan, you know that is a seriously taboo suggestion to ever bring up!

(Names have been changed for security purposes. Not really. I just feel like substituting their names)
 
me: ...they have a really trusted driver...
dad: (interrupting me) Like Hassan? (the driver who picked and dropped me from uni for 3 years and knows us since we were babies)
me: Yes deda, like Hassan...
dad: (interrupting again) Good for them..
me: Yes. It is. So, he can drop us at Karima's house when the party is over .
dad: And why would you want to disturb them like that?
me: No no no! i didn't offer. I actually said no. But Noorhan (friend who's baby shower is was) insists. She said they would be more than happy to...
dad: Okay.
me: So I can go?!
dad: No. In the middle of the night? What are you thinking Fathi?
me: (sigh!) Okay, but she also said Mahmoud (Noorhan's husband) and she (Noorhan) can drop us if we aren't comfortable with Hassan.
dad: Who is Mahmoud?
me: Her husband.
dad: Whose husband?
me: Noorhan's.
dad: Noorhan is married?
me: YES! That's why shes having a baby shower!
dad: I don't know Fathi! Why would you want to go there and give her and the baby a bath and all that? Its...its a shame.
me: NO NO NO! Its called a baby shower. But there is no real shower. We just give gifts, play games, have fun and all that, before the baby is born. That's all.
dad: Okay visit her on another day and give her what you want.
me: But this is an occasion deda! I've already told her we're coming (semi-lie, Noorhan knew we might not come because of transport issues).
dad: (watches tv like we're not having a conversation).
me: So can I go?
dad: Where?
me: (start clenching teeth) To the baby shower. Noori and Mahmoud can drop us back to Karima's house in the end.
dad: Who is Noori?
me: Noorhan!
dad: So you want to come in between husband and wife?
me: Huh?
dad: They will be tired and want to go home and you will sit in the car and say take me to Karima's house?
me: THEY offered! You think I'll ask them for something like that?
dad: You know how much problems you can make between husband and wife?
me: What??? No!! What are you saying????
dad: And shes pregnant.
me: So??
dad: She'll be very tired. She shouldn't have all these parties anyway. 
me: Deda!! Can I go or no???
dad: (raising voice slightly and having grumpier expression) I don't know Fathi. Do whatever you want. You dont listen to what we say. (NOT TRUE!!)
me: Deda!
dad: (continues watching tv).
me: Fine! I'm not going! I told her I'm coming (semi-lie) and now I'll tell her I cant - AND she's pregnant! (irrelevant information, but at this point both of us were rather exhausted I think).

Basically my dad thought my friend and I will be a cause of divorce between Noori and Mahmoud and that curse will follow our families forever and nobody will marry me if they knew I went to give my pregnant friend and her baby (who was not born yet) a (actual) shower (with water and soap and whatnot). 

I ended up having a cold the next day, so I wouldn't have been able to make it anyway, but this is one example of the many highly logical and persuading conversations I've had with my dad. Sigh! 

Still love him though! x

P.S. Noori gave birth to a beautiful baby boy and now, a year later, is pregnant with her second bundle of joy! :D
This is not a picture of her baby though. I just found it on Google.

Saturday, 6 October 2012

Colourful Meanings



I love bangles! Glass, plastic, metal, wooden - any kind, I don't discriminate when it comes to my love for bangles.

I remember playing hide and seek at a friend's house when we were a lot younger, and we decided to hide in her mom's room. Now this moment may have lasted not more than 3 seconds, but to me, I saw it in slow-motion. Sitting on her mom's dressing table was a short object, shaped similar to a clothes stand - only it was for bangles! She had so many bangles in all the different colours out there in display. It was so beautiful! It was love at first sight. That day I made a secret promise to myself - some day, I too shall own a bangles stand and will display all the different coloured bangles I own!

I grew up and that self-promise sort of went on hold. Until I visited some distant relatives in Sri Lanka last summer and noticed that ALL the married girls have one of those in their rooms.

In the Indian culture, bangles are considered to be linked to the social position and marital status of a woman. For example, in certain parts of the country, it is traditional for brides to receive white and red coloured bangles. This is because it is believed that white signifies new beginnings and red is a symbol of energy. After a Hindu woman is widowed, she breaks her glass wedding bangles in an act of mourning. Similarly, different colours are symbolic of various emotions or attributes:

Red ~ Energy / Love
Blue~ Tranquility / Wisdom
Purple ~ Independence
Green ~ Luck
Orange ~ Success
Yellow ~ Happiness
White ~ New Beginning or Purity
Black ~ Power / Strength
Silver ~ Strength / Purity
Gold ~  Fortune
 
In China, jade bangles, are thought to be representative of prosperity, luck, a long life and protection from the evil spirits. This positivity is doubled when a jade bangle is gifted to someone because both the gifter and the giftee are blessed with good fortune. 

 In Africa, bangles are considered as symbols of peace.

When I wear bangles I tend to mix and match a lot of the different colours together - making it appear like I am going through a cocktail of emotions and stages of my life all at the same time!

 Neurotic much? Sigh! Explains the high levels of drama in my life!

What colour bangle do you feel like wearing today?


Links used:


http://www.divavillage.com/article_archive.php?id=37845&section_name=Hot+Finds&pg=2
http://www.sensationalcolor.com/liveinfullcolor/give-the-gift-of-color-jingle-jangle-bangles/
http://www.ehow.com/about_5200088_do-indian-women-wear-bangles_.html