Monday, August 31, 2009
Love
Imagine: Midnight. Full moon on an open meadow. Mid-September. No one nearby. You can hear the ocean waves. Gentle breeze moving. Millions of stars on the clear sky. Just peace. Lying down on the ground. Feeling a connection with nature, with God. A oneness with everything around you. Soft comfortable clothing. Having all your wishes fulfilled. Utter, sheer, total, complete satisfaction. Have gained everything with the security of not having to lose any. Content in your heart. Feeling the magic.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Neither Here nor There
I think I've defeated the purpose of this blog. Killed it rather. When I started this blog in 2006, I thought I could get my problems out in the open, not necessarily to find answers, but maybe I'd get different perspectives on certain issues, or at the very least, I'd just pour out my frustrations. It worked; but I don't think it's working anymore. I tried to be anonymous. I am, for the most part. If one of my friends were to read this blog, they won't be able to decisively conclude that this is me. Except for my closest friends, because I told them I was gonna start a blog. But that wasn't a problem, because I talk about these things with them anyway. So...I would write about anything and everything that seemed to be bothering me at that time. But now, I actually have to think before writing here. I think that what if the people who read this blog, take my posts in a manner other than its intention? I worry about that because people know me. They know who I am, in person, and then they read my stuff and then... It's annoying. I'm not ashamed of my thoughts, in any way. I'm not hiding anything either. It's about privacy. It sounds funny, I realize, that I'm putting my thoughts out there, on the internet, and then I'm talking about privacy. But I'm not talking about privacy in the traditional sense of the term. I guess I don't want people to take my thoughts out of context and then give them their own meaning. By people I mean the folks who know me in person. I kinda care about what they think of me. Things shouldn't be thought about out of context. It's like behaviour. You can't analyze human behaviour out of context. You won't succeed in drawing out the right conclusion, no matter how learned or experienced you are, even as a Psychiatrist. My intention was, people can know an alternate persona and know what it thinks. Then there are people who know me, and I don't want them to know my inner most thoughts. Closest friends were the only exception, but now I don't want them to know these things either. My relationships are still the same with them, I just don't want to worry about thinking before writing here. People can talk to a stranger more easily than they can to people in their lives. Just because the stranger is a stranger; he can think whatever he wants...not an issue. It's the people around us whose opinions of us matter.
Monday, August 17, 2009
Zee Vedding
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In the name of God, the most Beneficent, the most Merciful
In the name of God, the most Beneficent, the most Merciful
Mr. & Mrs. Ammi Abbu request the pleasure of your company at the marriage ceremony of their beloved son
Bhaijaan
with
Bhabi Jaan
D/o Mr. & Mrs Auntie Uncle, on today's date, at momsdaughter.blogspot.com
Please grace this occasion with your presence and bless the couple with your prayers
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Bhaijaan
with
Bhabi Jaan
D/o Mr. & Mrs Auntie Uncle, on today's date, at momsdaughter.blogspot.com
Please grace this occasion with your presence and bless the couple with your prayers
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Welcome to my brother's wedding! I've been waiting to write this post for the longest time, and now I'm in the mood to do it. The actual wedding was on the 9th of August, 2009. Let me start by replaying the day before the wedding. Lots still had to be done from our side. The sweets had to be ordered, the groom's room had to be decorated, the house needed yet another cleaning do-over, the car had to be decorated, its supplies had to be bought, I needed a memory card for my camera, the bride's jewellery which goes from the groom's side had to be packed, the bari (dowry) had to be packed, the men had to do their full-dress rehearsal, I had to iron my wedding clothes, the gifts that we had for the bride after she came home had to be packed, and other things that I can't remember right now. My middle brother and I were taking care of the arrangements. That day was just crazy. So finally at around 2 AM, we were done with everything. I was so exhaused that I didn't even feel like putting mehndi on. I just wanted to sleep. But this being my eldest bro's wedding and all, I finally got the energy and put the damned mehndi on, only to find out that it was way too friggin runny and didn't even last me for two days! And in all of this, my room was the dumping ground for the entire house - they all just threw their stuff in my room. It was a miracle I was able to sleep on my bed that night.
Then the day of the wedding. The stupid air conditioning broke down. We had the hottest day of the year, and the a/c wasn't working! It was raining cats and dogs in the morning. Bhaiyya and I had to go get the trays for the sweets, then the sweets themselves. I've already talked about the language fail at the sweet shop. Anyway, when we saw the rain, we decided not to decorate the car. What would be the point? So we decided on that and just decorated the car's interior. Then the sweets had to be packed, and I had to reach the beauty parlour at 2:30. When I left my home, the stupid sun had decided to shine! There was no sign left of the rain. Zilch. But by then we had no time to decorate the car. So I got my hair and make-up done, and went back home. My uncle's family arrived at our house a few minutes later. It was very hot and muggy. Finally, the baraat left, from our house, and we reached the banquet hall. The men looked very handsome in their tuxes mashaAllah. My cousins looked like dolls in traditional clothes. Chacchi and I accidentally ended up wearing the same aqua-blue. We were one well-dressed baraat though!
The baraat was received by the bride's family, aunts, uncle and a few cousins. The men got buttonieres. Auntie tied gajray on us ladies' (me and my chacchi's) wrists. The bride's father put a rose haar around the groom's neck. We were welcomed in the hall by the bride's (and mine!) friends and her cousins, who threw rose petals on us. The groom was accompanied to the stage by the bride's father and brothers.

Then the day of the wedding. The stupid air conditioning broke down. We had the hottest day of the year, and the a/c wasn't working! It was raining cats and dogs in the morning. Bhaiyya and I had to go get the trays for the sweets, then the sweets themselves. I've already talked about the language fail at the sweet shop. Anyway, when we saw the rain, we decided not to decorate the car. What would be the point? So we decided on that and just decorated the car's interior. Then the sweets had to be packed, and I had to reach the beauty parlour at 2:30. When I left my home, the stupid sun had decided to shine! There was no sign left of the rain. Zilch. But by then we had no time to decorate the car. So I got my hair and make-up done, and went back home. My uncle's family arrived at our house a few minutes later. It was very hot and muggy. Finally, the baraat left, from our house, and we reached the banquet hall. The men looked very handsome in their tuxes mashaAllah. My cousins looked like dolls in traditional clothes. Chacchi and I accidentally ended up wearing the same aqua-blue. We were one well-dressed baraat though!
The baraat was received by the bride's family, aunts, uncle and a few cousins. The men got buttonieres. Auntie tied gajray on us ladies' (me and my chacchi's) wrists. The bride's father put a rose haar around the groom's neck. We were welcomed in the hall by the bride's (and mine!) friends and her cousins, who threw rose petals on us. The groom was accompanied to the stage by the bride's father and brothers.
Then there were a lot of pictures taken. And I mean lots! Some of our guests had come before us. So me being the "woman of the house", went and met with all of them. It was a nice gathering. Then came the moment of truth - the Nikah. The bride's witness disappeared! When he was found, the Nikah ceremony started. I don't know if the Maulana was new at this job or was just confused, he wanted my brother to say that he (my brother) "takes sister so and so to be his lawfully wedded wife..". I remember smiling at my brother who was making faces, and then I guess the Maulana realized what he was saying. I was busy taking pictures this whole time (with my camera which can now hold 2700 pictures!). After the Nikah, the men hugged and congratulated the groom. I just wanted to push thhrough the crowd and hug my brother. I had a bigger right than all the men surrounding him to hug him and congratulate him. Before I could devise a plan to accomplish just that though, ladies started congratulating me. So I postponed talking to my brother for the time being and just accepted the many hearty congratulations from the good people who had decided to join us in our happiness. These were the same people who were there with us at our most difficult time, so I trust these people's love and sincerity. When I finally got a chance to talk to my brother, I found out that all my brothers and dad had already congratualted him, and were then hogging the stage. Anyway, I went to him and we just smiled at each other. That's how we exchanged congratulations. Right after the Nikah, we distributed the "Nikah goodies" - Choohaaray, bataashay, candy, naz pan masala (no clue how to say these things in English), individually handpacked in the world's cutest looking boxes (my choice!)
A few minutes later, my very gorgeous sister-in-law who was looking drop-dead gorgeous as a bride mashaAllah, entered the hall with her parents on either side of her, and her brothers behind her. It was one of the best moments in my life to receive her as the sixth member of our family. Who knew I could get so lucky as to have my bestest friend as my bhabi?! al-Hamdulillah. My dad looked so pleased mashaAllah. The groom got up to receive his bride. What a couple mashaAllah! Then there were lots of pictures with the bride and groom, the families, the relatives, the family friends, the friends. The bride's cousins then did "Doodh Pilaayee" (milk drinking lol), where they ask the couple to drink milk from the same glass, groom first, and then they get money from the groom. It's just a friendly combat of words between cousins of both parties and it's meant to be taken light heartedly. After my brother and sister-in-law had the milk, they asked for $10,000! I have never seen our family so united than we were then at protesting at the atrocity! $10,000 can buy milk for the entire city, and these clowns were asking that much for a glass?! No way. Eeeeventuuuuuaaaaally we settled at $300. But who has the money? The groom took out his wallet... it was empty. He got some $20 bills from his coat pocket. It added up to a 100 I think. Then came out the 10's, then the 5's! I thought he'd start counting pennies then. From one pocket, his comb came out! It was just hilarious. Even the bride was laughing. Eventually he got the full $300. By then the dinner was served.
While the guests ate, the couple had their photo shoot. Good food, good food. When the couple came in, most people were done with their food. The bride sat at a table with her friends, the groom had his food with his brothers, and then they both sat at the same table and had their dessert together. By then it was just the two families left. The rain had started and believe it or not, it hailed too that night! In August! After a few more photos, we asked the bride's family for permission to leave. It was a heart touching moment. Parents sending their beloved daughter off to live in a new family, a new environment. My dad hugged her father and assured him that now she has two dads who love her very very much. Our uncle came to our house with us. In our family, the new bride eats something sweet when she first comes home. So we fed her some mithaayee. Our family had gifts for the couple. After a few more pictures, we decided that it had been a long day and they needed to rest now. That was the end to one of the most joyous occasions of my life. I've thanked God profusely and I'll continue to do so for as long as I can.
Thank you for attending. I hope you enjoyed yourself. Please remember us in your prayers, especially in the blessed month of Ramadan.
A few minutes later, my very gorgeous sister-in-law who was looking drop-dead gorgeous as a bride mashaAllah, entered the hall with her parents on either side of her, and her brothers behind her. It was one of the best moments in my life to receive her as the sixth member of our family. Who knew I could get so lucky as to have my bestest friend as my bhabi?! al-Hamdulillah. My dad looked so pleased mashaAllah. The groom got up to receive his bride. What a couple mashaAllah! Then there were lots of pictures with the bride and groom, the families, the relatives, the family friends, the friends. The bride's cousins then did "Doodh Pilaayee" (milk drinking lol), where they ask the couple to drink milk from the same glass, groom first, and then they get money from the groom. It's just a friendly combat of words between cousins of both parties and it's meant to be taken light heartedly. After my brother and sister-in-law had the milk, they asked for $10,000! I have never seen our family so united than we were then at protesting at the atrocity! $10,000 can buy milk for the entire city, and these clowns were asking that much for a glass?! No way. Eeeeventuuuuuaaaaally we settled at $300. But who has the money? The groom took out his wallet... it was empty. He got some $20 bills from his coat pocket. It added up to a 100 I think. Then came out the 10's, then the 5's! I thought he'd start counting pennies then. From one pocket, his comb came out! It was just hilarious. Even the bride was laughing. Eventually he got the full $300. By then the dinner was served.
While the guests ate, the couple had their photo shoot. Good food, good food. When the couple came in, most people were done with their food. The bride sat at a table with her friends, the groom had his food with his brothers, and then they both sat at the same table and had their dessert together. By then it was just the two families left. The rain had started and believe it or not, it hailed too that night! In August! After a few more photos, we asked the bride's family for permission to leave. It was a heart touching moment. Parents sending their beloved daughter off to live in a new family, a new environment. My dad hugged her father and assured him that now she has two dads who love her very very much. Our uncle came to our house with us. In our family, the new bride eats something sweet when she first comes home. So we fed her some mithaayee. Our family had gifts for the couple. After a few more pictures, we decided that it had been a long day and they needed to rest now. That was the end to one of the most joyous occasions of my life. I've thanked God profusely and I'll continue to do so for as long as I can.
Thank you for attending. I hope you enjoyed yourself. Please remember us in your prayers, especially in the blessed month of Ramadan.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Setting Things Straight
The purpose of this blog is to offer me a platform to release my frustration with life and everything it encompasses. My catharsis. Something is bothering me these days, and I haven't quite figured out what yet. I can think of a few things, and I'll just elaborate on those. I hope my answer lies in the untangling of these tangled threads of thoughts.
A few years ago, after my mom's death, everything reminded me of her. If I were pleased I would miss her and cry, if I were upset I'd miss her and cry. I cried a lot. Then slowly that phase started becoming stable. I'd cry and miss her only on major things, according to my standards. Then a time came where I stopped missing her when things went wrong. I wasn't consciously missing her, it was all subconscious. It stopped subconsciously too. I'd look for a solution to my problem instead of crying that she's not there to figure it out for me. I would miss her when her thoughts came to me. That seemed natural. Her firstborn just got married. My oldest brother. I didn't miss her at all. Even now I'm not missing her. It's like, yeah I had a mom, she was nice, it was good to be her daughter, and that's it. I'm happy that I'm not sad at this joyous occasion, but I think I'm feeling guilty, somewhere inside. Should I be missing her? I look back, and I'm seeing a white door, and she's in there. But the door is closed and I know she's sleeping peacefully in there. I also know I can't take her with me. Our time together has ended. Now every time I look back, I see the closed door and that's all I see. An end.
With every end there is a new beginning of another chapter. Now that my brother is married, there are talks of getting me married. I don't think I'm ready for marriage now. I have a few relationships in my life - I'm a daughter, a sister, and a friend. I know how to carry these forward. I know my responsibilities and I know what people expect from me. Even in these relationships, the first two, there are fragile moments. These are my blood relatives, and even with them sometimes anger gets the best of people. They say things that shatter my soul. I know it's not intentional, but it hurts despite of that. My point is, I've lived my life with them, they know me since birth, they've seen me grow up, yet when things don't go according to their criteria, and I try to offer my perspective, I end up losing my sincerity with them. Imagine a husband. I'll leave my world behind for him, build a relationship from scratch, and then one day, in anger or frustration, he too can say that I'm not sincere with him. Then what? Pride is the biggest asset a human has. Take that away and you've injured that person for life. Now I feel that it's not that I'm not ready to be a wife. I think I'm not willing to be a wife, in the sense of the term that our culture has given it.
So what am I willing to do? Well, I'm qualified enough to hold a job now. I've always wanted to be in the field of Psychology. I'm passionate about helping people. I'm amazed at the changes caused by a secure therapeutic alliance. I should start working on my resume. I also want to re-discover myself. I was looking at some of my old diaries and I remembered the times when I had written those entries. I was such a different person then. I'm comfortable with my current self also, but I need to get in touch with the aspects I seem to have lost. I also want to learn more about religion. I have my questions, my doubts, my issues. I've tried asking people, but the first thing they say when they don't seem to have an answer for me is to repent. I'm all for repenting when I've sinned, but why repent at your curiosity? The unexamined life is not worth living (Socrates), and religion is a way of life. When God Himself has made it obligatory upon me to learn my religion, then who are people to stop me from it? I need to find a reliable source. I think this should last me for the next few years. And after my second brother gets married and there are two women in the house, besides me, I want to get my training as a Psychologist. That was the dream after all. I hope I can achieve it.
A few years ago, after my mom's death, everything reminded me of her. If I were pleased I would miss her and cry, if I were upset I'd miss her and cry. I cried a lot. Then slowly that phase started becoming stable. I'd cry and miss her only on major things, according to my standards. Then a time came where I stopped missing her when things went wrong. I wasn't consciously missing her, it was all subconscious. It stopped subconsciously too. I'd look for a solution to my problem instead of crying that she's not there to figure it out for me. I would miss her when her thoughts came to me. That seemed natural. Her firstborn just got married. My oldest brother. I didn't miss her at all. Even now I'm not missing her. It's like, yeah I had a mom, she was nice, it was good to be her daughter, and that's it. I'm happy that I'm not sad at this joyous occasion, but I think I'm feeling guilty, somewhere inside. Should I be missing her? I look back, and I'm seeing a white door, and she's in there. But the door is closed and I know she's sleeping peacefully in there. I also know I can't take her with me. Our time together has ended. Now every time I look back, I see the closed door and that's all I see. An end.
With every end there is a new beginning of another chapter. Now that my brother is married, there are talks of getting me married. I don't think I'm ready for marriage now. I have a few relationships in my life - I'm a daughter, a sister, and a friend. I know how to carry these forward. I know my responsibilities and I know what people expect from me. Even in these relationships, the first two, there are fragile moments. These are my blood relatives, and even with them sometimes anger gets the best of people. They say things that shatter my soul. I know it's not intentional, but it hurts despite of that. My point is, I've lived my life with them, they know me since birth, they've seen me grow up, yet when things don't go according to their criteria, and I try to offer my perspective, I end up losing my sincerity with them. Imagine a husband. I'll leave my world behind for him, build a relationship from scratch, and then one day, in anger or frustration, he too can say that I'm not sincere with him. Then what? Pride is the biggest asset a human has. Take that away and you've injured that person for life. Now I feel that it's not that I'm not ready to be a wife. I think I'm not willing to be a wife, in the sense of the term that our culture has given it.
So what am I willing to do? Well, I'm qualified enough to hold a job now. I've always wanted to be in the field of Psychology. I'm passionate about helping people. I'm amazed at the changes caused by a secure therapeutic alliance. I should start working on my resume. I also want to re-discover myself. I was looking at some of my old diaries and I remembered the times when I had written those entries. I was such a different person then. I'm comfortable with my current self also, but I need to get in touch with the aspects I seem to have lost. I also want to learn more about religion. I have my questions, my doubts, my issues. I've tried asking people, but the first thing they say when they don't seem to have an answer for me is to repent. I'm all for repenting when I've sinned, but why repent at your curiosity? The unexamined life is not worth living (Socrates), and religion is a way of life. When God Himself has made it obligatory upon me to learn my religion, then who are people to stop me from it? I need to find a reliable source. I think this should last me for the next few years. And after my second brother gets married and there are two women in the house, besides me, I want to get my training as a Psychologist. That was the dream after all. I hope I can achieve it.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Highlights of the Wedding
It would've made more sense if I did this post after the Walima, but I'm bored now, so I'm doing it now. My last exam was on the 18th of last month, and the wedding was 20 days later, on the 9th of August. So from the 19th til the 9th, we were crazy busy. There were some things that particularly stood out for me. Just some memorable events and things that are making me laugh these days. Thought I'd spread the joy around:
- Baji! - The jeweler was a Pakistani uncle who undoubtedly was my dad's age, and he kept calling me baji. Even if he wasn't my dad's age (although he was), he was still clearly older than I am. My aunt was with me, who was calling me 'beta' when she was talking to me, and he wasn't calling her baji. The genius was calling me baji. It pissed me off then, but it makes me smile now.
- Hidden Racism - We went on a mehndi search, and landed at this Indian shop. So I'm checking out the cones there and my brother was reading the many boxes they had at the counter. On one of them, it said, "Kaalon se hoshiyaar rehiye" (beware of a certain group of ppl). The lady at the counter should've been offended. She was from India and she was dark-skinned! As soon as he read it, I turned to him, and asked him to repeat what he had said. He did. I couldn't believe what I had heard. I made him repeat it again -- same thing. So I went to him. I wanted to see it for myself. How could such a thing get exported?! When I finally got to it, it said "Naqqalon se hoshiyaar rehiye" (beware of imitators).
- Language fail - Technically we are Punjabis but we can't speak the language. When we do, the Punjabi speakers start speaking Urdu, just to shut us up. But we understand it for the most part. When we went to get the Mithaayee to take with the baraat, the shopkeeper was some Sikh person. So here we are, telling her in English what we want. We wanted mixed sweets. She packed all Gulaab Jaamun. Then again, we tell her we want mixed sweets, she takes out the Gulaab Jaamun and packs all Barfis. So yet again, in Urdu this time, we asked her to please give us mixed sweets, and she calls her husband from inside. He did the same thing, with Ras Gullas and Barfis! Now we were pissed, confused and amused at the same time. We were running out of time and these ppl had no idea what we wanted and this was after we had told them this a couple days before. Then bhaiyya being the guy he is, started speaking Punjabi. If I wasn't so astonished, I would've laughed the roof off. Finally the now three ppl at the counter understood what we wanted, and we got our mixed Mithaayee.
- Nands are gay - Someone posted a song translation of some tamil song and it sounds like they're saying "nuns are gay". So at like... 3 AM on the night before the wedding, I was sitting down with my brothers, talking about my friends' reaction to me being my best friend's nand, and how this is kinda offending me because they're attributing the negative stereotyoes to me, my brother remembered the song "nuns are gay". He thought I would've heard of it, but I hadn't. So he was talking about it as if I knew the song, and I misheard "nuns" as "nands". So I just looked at him, and I was like, "I'm not gay, man". And then, please keep in mind this was at 3 AM after 20 days of nonstop work and I was exhausted, both mentally and physically, I looked at my brothers and said, "At least I think I'm not". You can imagine the rest.
- Pwned - My youngest brother is awesome! After he had his food and dessert, he took off his tux, took off his shoes, put his headphones on, put his legs on the chair, and started listening to songs, while we were still in the hall!
- Wedding aftershocks - It's all fun and nice to go to the parlour and get your hair done. But when it comes time to undone what's been done, it's not so fun and nice. Let's just say that someone had a huge amount of backcombing done and when she tried to get her hair to come to its natural state, she looked like a troll doll. It was fun to laugh so hard.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
A New Beginning
I once read somewhere that it's happiness that we need to share; sorrow can take care of itself. I've always shared my grief with you, but today is different. Today I'll talk about one of the happiest times in my life -- these current days. I'm happy. I'm very happy. Although I've been working nonstop since Feb., I'm not tired. I was; but not anymore. I don't know what it is about happiness that fills us with energy, but I'm not curious. I'm liking its effect, and that's what matters. I'm happy because, well, first of all, my brother is getting married. Him and his fiancee are both happy. I'm happy because he's happy. He deserves every happiness in the world. He is one of the most amazing people I know. His fiancee also happens to be my best friend, someone I just adore. They both deserved the best and that's what I believe they're getting. Somewhere inside, I believe my faith is being restored too by this divine justice. Good people getting good things. Secondly, I'm done! I have my Bachelors man. I did it, against all odds. I thought my gpa would slip down and I would be kicked out of the program. It's tough to maintain your gpa while raising your family! Third, the weather... oh my God the weather. It rains at night and wind blows during the day. Just perfect.
My mood usually has its ups and downs, but I haven't felt an up like this for a very long time. Though I'm scared that if the up is this great then its counterpart might be that much tougher, but I'm still happy. Maybe this is a fresh start for a wonderful life ahead, with maybe no more downs. I don't know, but boy do I hope so. I'm loving this... change. I wish myself a life with lots of love, happiness and content. I wish to stay strong while praying life up ahead is easier. It's nice to be happy. Very pleasant. I'll worry about Ramadan and November when they come. For now, I'm good to go. =)
My mood usually has its ups and downs, but I haven't felt an up like this for a very long time. Though I'm scared that if the up is this great then its counterpart might be that much tougher, but I'm still happy. Maybe this is a fresh start for a wonderful life ahead, with maybe no more downs. I don't know, but boy do I hope so. I'm loving this... change. I wish myself a life with lots of love, happiness and content. I wish to stay strong while praying life up ahead is easier. It's nice to be happy. Very pleasant. I'll worry about Ramadan and November when they come. For now, I'm good to go. =)
Saturday, July 25, 2009
The Little One
When I was born after my two older brothers, everyone advised my parents that they should have another daughter. "You should have at least two daughters", they'd say, or "She'd get lonely playing by herself. She should have another sister". But then the youngest one was born... a boy. I was around 5 then. I remember being told by everyone that I was having a sister. I don't know why they just assumed that this one would be a girl. Anyway, so I was all happy and excited and I was thinking of taking revenge on my brothers for not including me in their games. In their defense though, they didn't include me in their games because I was a girl, but because I was the worst player you could possibly find. I was overly fragile, extra sensitive and hated to lose. Anyway, on the 27th of December, mom and dad were in the hospital, and I remember being told that I have a baby brother. "Another one?!" I was very disappointed. But we went to see the little thing anyway. I wanted to see my mom and be angry with her. She had promised me a sister! The whole ride from our home to the hospital, I was so mad. So we went, and her and the newborn were still in the ward. I went to my mom and there was this itsy bitsy little thing lying next to her, wearing this parrot green wool knit sweater. His eyes were open and he was gorgeous. Mom smiled at me but I didn't notice. I was busy looking into those precious hazel eyes, which were wide with amazement, and I rememer thinking, I'll take care of him for as long as I shall live. It was love at first sight then. I totally forgot the fact that he was supposed to be a girl and that now I'll have three brothers who'd tease me and all the things that had run through my mind during the 20 minute ride to the hospital. All I thought after seeing him was that he was born to be loved and I would give him all the love I have.
He was 11 when our mom passed away. I wasn't old either, by any stretch of the term, but I was still older than him. Nothing, not even the death of my mom, hurt me more than seeing him cry because he had lost his mom. I just wanted to place him in my heart forever and guard him from all of life's nasty surprises. I sometimes feel that I've developed a mom-ly place in my heart for him. When he smiles, my heart feels like dancing. When he laughs, I just want to fill the world with colour. When he's sad I want to cry out his pain through my eyes. Everything I own, that I find to be worthy, I have his share in it. If I think anything has the potential of making him happy, I'll make sure he gets a taste of it. When I buy chocolates, when I get something cool, when I cook something that tastes great, I can't digest it without having shared it with him first. When I listen to a good song, or a poem, or a joke, or a clip, I have to share it with him. So he can be happy. When I come home and see him, my fatigue seems to melt. I sometimes want to spend all the money on him... buying him anything and everything he wants. When it comes to him being happy, nothing else matters.
The part I find to be the most fulfilling and rewarding in this whole situation is, he feels the same way. We're best friends. I'm the one he comes to when he wants something solved. I'm the one he comes to when he wants to share a happy/sad news. I'm the one he talks to when he wants something. We're close. We do fun stuff together too. I remember a couple of weeks ago, I was bored out of my mind. It was around 1:30 AM. So I went to his room and he was bored too. You know what we did? We learned (via youtube) how to knot ties! Well, he learned how to knot ties, I just learned how to strangle myself.
He's a very well-mannered kid. He's smart, funny and very handsome. He's like a prince -- he's so graceful. When you talk to him, you just can't help but feel pride. He's a fellow human, and you're a human, and you feel proud of being a human then. I don't know if this makes sense to you. It does to me. I know my parents are the rightful owner of all the compliments the kid gets, but I feel that somewhere along the line, I made a little contribution to his personality.
I love my older brothers too. It's just.. they're brothers first and then... acquaintances. The youngest one is a friend first, then this being that I want to give the world to. And he's my brother. If as a sister I love him this much, I don't know how much love mothers have in their hearts for their children. I can't even imagine.
This is how I'd sum up my relationship with the youngest one, probably the only person I know that I wouldn't have to think twice before sacrificing my own life for:
"It snowed last year too: I made a snowman and my brother knocked it down and I knocked my brother down and then we had tea". ~Dylan Thomas
He was 11 when our mom passed away. I wasn't old either, by any stretch of the term, but I was still older than him. Nothing, not even the death of my mom, hurt me more than seeing him cry because he had lost his mom. I just wanted to place him in my heart forever and guard him from all of life's nasty surprises. I sometimes feel that I've developed a mom-ly place in my heart for him. When he smiles, my heart feels like dancing. When he laughs, I just want to fill the world with colour. When he's sad I want to cry out his pain through my eyes. Everything I own, that I find to be worthy, I have his share in it. If I think anything has the potential of making him happy, I'll make sure he gets a taste of it. When I buy chocolates, when I get something cool, when I cook something that tastes great, I can't digest it without having shared it with him first. When I listen to a good song, or a poem, or a joke, or a clip, I have to share it with him. So he can be happy. When I come home and see him, my fatigue seems to melt. I sometimes want to spend all the money on him... buying him anything and everything he wants. When it comes to him being happy, nothing else matters.
The part I find to be the most fulfilling and rewarding in this whole situation is, he feels the same way. We're best friends. I'm the one he comes to when he wants something solved. I'm the one he comes to when he wants to share a happy/sad news. I'm the one he talks to when he wants something. We're close. We do fun stuff together too. I remember a couple of weeks ago, I was bored out of my mind. It was around 1:30 AM. So I went to his room and he was bored too. You know what we did? We learned (via youtube) how to knot ties! Well, he learned how to knot ties, I just learned how to strangle myself.
He's a very well-mannered kid. He's smart, funny and very handsome. He's like a prince -- he's so graceful. When you talk to him, you just can't help but feel pride. He's a fellow human, and you're a human, and you feel proud of being a human then. I don't know if this makes sense to you. It does to me. I know my parents are the rightful owner of all the compliments the kid gets, but I feel that somewhere along the line, I made a little contribution to his personality.
I love my older brothers too. It's just.. they're brothers first and then... acquaintances. The youngest one is a friend first, then this being that I want to give the world to. And he's my brother. If as a sister I love him this much, I don't know how much love mothers have in their hearts for their children. I can't even imagine.
This is how I'd sum up my relationship with the youngest one, probably the only person I know that I wouldn't have to think twice before sacrificing my own life for:
"It snowed last year too: I made a snowman and my brother knocked it down and I knocked my brother down and then we had tea". ~Dylan Thomas
Sunday, July 19, 2009
FINALLY!
This... will be one of those rare (so far) posts which would be said in a positive mood. Reason being, I'm ecstatic right now. I've already applied for graduation, the convocation is in October. I just completed my last exam of my last course last night. ON A SATURDAY NIGHT! Exam was scheduled from 7 - 10 PM. I was done around 9. My best friend (who's also about to be my sister-in-law inshaAllah) came to pick me up. We went to Demetres from there. My brother paid for our food! Then she gave me this nice bouquet of 12 beautiful red roses. I was so happy that I just held them throughout the whole ride.
Then we went for a long drive. Man it was so nice! The weather matched my expectation so well. A little ahead of the main city, where there weren't as many lights and stuff, we could actually see the stars on the sky! I've been here for 9 years, and I've never seen stars! So that was just... wow. It was in many ways the perfect night. I was with my best friend, going on a long drive, relieved from the shackles of university, with a French Vanilla in my hand. What else?! I'm al-Hamdulillah very happy and I'm very happy to be so happy.
The flowers are in my vase on my dressing table right now!
Then we went for a long drive. Man it was so nice! The weather matched my expectation so well. A little ahead of the main city, where there weren't as many lights and stuff, we could actually see the stars on the sky! I've been here for 9 years, and I've never seen stars! So that was just... wow. It was in many ways the perfect night. I was with my best friend, going on a long drive, relieved from the shackles of university, with a French Vanilla in my hand. What else?! I'm al-Hamdulillah very happy and I'm very happy to be so happy.
The flowers are in my vase on my dressing table right now!
Monday, June 29, 2009
Perfect Life
I have a friend. She's my best friend. I love her dearly. She's one of the best things in my life. I feel she can read my thoughts and interpret them for me as well. I can never thank God enough for her. In the many years that we've been friends, I don't remember us fighting over anything. And it's not that her and I have the same interests in everything we talk about. We have our independent, unique personalities, but when it comes to our opinions, we leave it at that - this is what you believe and this is what I think. We give each other the room to be ourselves. I was imagining how wonderful my life will be if I spent it with her, and vice versa. We could move out of this city, move up North somewhere. Live together. Rent an apartment or something. We're at the point where we can support at least ourselves, financially, and quite comfortably. We'd buy a car. When we'd come home from work, who ever wants to cook will cook. If neither of us wants to cook we can order take-out. If both of us want to cook we'll freeze the leftovers. Same goes for everything else - chore wise. On weekends, we'd go wherever we want. Stay out as long as we'd want to. Since we're each others' best friends, we love to spend time with each other. We happen to have the same circle of friends, for the most part. The ones that are not mutual, we love to meet them too. I'd love to meet her friends, and vice versa. All in all, I imagine an aweosme life if we were to live together and spend it with each other. I'm not implying homosexuality in any way. I'm not interested in her, or any other female, that way. I'm talking about a deeper-than-physical relationship. I'm talking about the love that springs from the heart and takes over the soul. It's not sexual needs whose fulfilment fill the heart with content - it's emotional needs. If it were only physical needs, then anyone who can afford to hire male or female hookers would be satisfied -- in every sense of the term. Anyway, if I could live with her, it'd be a good life. That, I can guarantee. We'd never hurt each other, because we care for each other. I'd never ask her to do something which I know she wouldn't want to do, and vice versa. We can travel together, live together, laugh together. Just her and I, finding our niche in the world.
If this is the kind of love that people write love songs for, and if this is what it feels to be in love, then I sincerely pray I find that in my life partner. That everyone finds in their life partners.
If this is the kind of love that people write love songs for, and if this is what it feels to be in love, then I sincerely pray I find that in my life partner. That everyone finds in their life partners.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Hurts When Moms Die
At least they got a chance to say Goodbye. My Goodbye was her telling me to make tea, and we'd have it when she'd get back.
She never did.
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