Wednesday, February 28, 2007

new blog address

dear readers,

i have changed my blog to RECONNECTED. Click the word.

Monday, February 26, 2007

battlefield

where love meets hate
where anger meets affection
where jealousy meets contentment
where belief meets rejection

where loyalty meets treachery
where honesty meets deception
where justice meets injustice
where happiness meets depression

where perseverance meets impatience
where desire meets repulsion
where humility meets pride
where peace meets convulsion

where tolerance meets prejudice
where apathy meets exhiliration
where generosity meets stinginess
where forgiveness meets condemnation

where the fields are soaked in blood
where the war cries are softly sung
where battles are always fought
where battles are seldom won

Thursday, February 22, 2007

who is really "homeless"?

While I was driving to work this morning, I saw the following handwritten poster/sign right before I entered downtown:

You say, "We cant understand the
Homeless, how can they live like that?"
We say, "What part of 'Trust in God'
can we help you with?"

Monday, February 19, 2007

inspiration

inspiration falls from above
like shimmering raindrops
if only i could catch them all
before they hit the ground
and never dry my palms

Thursday, February 15, 2007

bumper sticker i saw this morning

“Not all those who wander are lost." - Tolkien

Tuesday, February 13, 2007

celebrate diversity part 2


This was one of the signs that just went up in the men's locker room bathroom at my workplace. Actually, one of my non-Muslim coworkers spotted it first and came by and told me yesterday morning. Rightfully so, he figured I would be concerned.

Getting ready for the five daily prayers in Islam involves washing parts of the body; the hands, mouth, nose, face, arms, head, and feet. Personally, to me it ties a physical, mental, and spiritual cleanliness altogether. But Im getting off track...

There is one other person that I know of that makes wudu (ablution for prayer) in the sink and both of us are very mindful to keep the area dry when we are done. Now obviously someone had to have seen either of us washing our feet in the sink, and someone had to be offended enough by the sight of it that they had to make a complaint.

So you know what this sign says to me? It says that "I dont even care to ask you why you are washing your foot in the sink, I think its disgusting and Im going to complain." On top of that, the person who made the sign must have felt strongly about it too.

I went down to the Human Resources director and told her what was up. I showed her the sign, explained my take on it, and she found it offensive too. We agreed that we would have the facilities department take the rest of the signs down and provide an alternative solution for washing feet. Because it is true, sinks are just not built for washing feet. I just happen to be tall.

She also left me with this, "You are all hired to work here based on your skills and your performances. We all come from different backgrounds, ethnicities, religions, sexual persuasions so we've got to learn how to "live" together. Our job is to accommodate you so you can continue on with the things you got to do to live your life."

Facilities upon request installed a retractable shower head that could reach the floor this morning.

celebrate diversity part 1

Confession: I knew some Arab-hating Pakistanis (first semester) in Egypt who I would occasionally chop it up with....discussing the Arab world's cultural, lingual, and socio-economic monopoly on the religious practices of Islam and its particular influence on the Indian subcontinent. We would revel in our prejudices over chicken tikka masala, naan, and chai with milk while people outside ate koshary and fuul.

Even in college, when I saw Pakistani students wearing Arab-esque garments to the mosque or when giving the Friday sermon, or attending any religious function for that matter, I saw it as an appealed attempt to over-extend their religiosity. It bothered me to the effect of utter annoyance. Sometimes even sheer disgust.

My views on the matter however have long been reformed, but somethings recently had reminded me of how I used to feel.

Quite simply, I saw Chinese people in Pakistan wearing shalwar kameez (Pakistani garb). And Thai Muslims in Bangkok wearing dhotis (worn throughout the Indian subcontinent) in the airport as they were about to embark on the hajj, the Muslim pilgrimage to Mecca. Celebrate diversity.

But before I went to Pakistan, I heard Dr. Sherman Jackson, Professor of Arabic and Islamic Studies at the University of Michigan speak at the ING (Islamic Networks Group) dinner back in early December of 2006. I remember him (or one of the speakers there...now I forget) giving the following analogy on the relation of Islam and culture:

"In forensics, the thread collected from a crime scene can reveal the whole jacket. That piece of thread when examined can tell you the brand, color, etc. But you cannot rely on that piece of thread as a replacement for the whole jacket."

What I take from this: You can observe Islam being practiced in one place, in one time period, and conclude yes the beauty of Islam resides there. You can then look at a completely different place, time period and also say yes Islam resides there too. The product of people's struggle for righteousness within themselves and their respective societies would reflect that.

Of all the countries Ive been to, all the mosques (Muslim place for prayer) are vastly different in appearance, style, and architecture even. They bring in so many different kinds of people; wearing so many different styles of clothes. Only one thing in common; they are all built to align the people to pray in one unified direction. Towards one central location. Towards Mecca.

Celebrate diversity.

Wednesday, February 07, 2007

the fog

while the sun still slept
i crept out of bed

the old men in their hands wept
off to the fields i went

too cold for a walk
so i disobeyed health

too quiet to talk
so i spoke to myself

i know you're listening
but you dont seem to speak

dialogue was missing
no other way
ever made sense to me

the plants gathered tears
in the cusps of their leaves

the birds sung of their fears
from the height of the trees

but i kept walking
ignoring the cries for mercy

why the sun never dares to sleep in
always ready for duty?

is it still too cold to feel
my body's going numb

or am i just too cold to feel?
im a casket for none

but i kept walking
at least the warm blood is still flowing

but blood was scared too
and surrendered to you, the All-Knowing

then your fog moved in
and surrounded a rebel

the cold mixed with caution
softer steps with a tremble

the fog grew thicker
the fields disappeared

the fog moved quicker
curled nearer and nearer

now truly lost
a distance from knowing

which direction i came from?
and where am i going?

im blind, i cant see
and im screaming for help

in the fog it was just you and me
and nothing else

Monday, February 05, 2007

sunrise or sunset?

I spent 4 days of last week in Florida for work. Never been there before. Felt kind of weird. We were on the Atlantic side of the penninsula and our hotel was right on the beach. Nice! But since we were cooped up in meetings all day, there wasn't much chance to enjoy the outdoors.

The last day I was there though, I walked down to the beach at around 6:30AM for a peace of mind and a sunrise.

Having spent most of my life in California, I had never seen the sun rise over a huge body of water. Only sunset. The deep red of the sun spotted the hovering clouds like blotches of ink picked up by a sponge. It was really cool.

Another really memorable sunrise was one I saw in Jerusalem. My buddy and I waited in the blistering cold outside of Dome of the Rock after the morning prayer to watch the sunrise over the mountain. The first light on the horizon struck the dome and made the whole thing glow. The radiance, I must say, was truly immaculate.

So...are you a sunrise person or a sunset person? Guys, you can answer this question too and I promise I wont think any less of you.

the cleric and the bus driver

A cleric and a bus driver stood before God. God said to the cleric, "I condemn you to hell."

The cleric is shocked and cries, "But I am a man who has spent my life serving you! I gave the weekly sermons to remind the people of Your glory!"

God replied, "Yes, but your sermons put the people's hearts to sleep. Your congregation never remembered Me."

God then says to the bus driver, "I grant you heaven."

The bus driver is shocked and cries, "But looking back on my life, I was just a simple bus driver, and not even a good one at that!"

God replied, "Yes you were by far the worst bus driver that ever lived, but your passengers would remember Me when they cried out to Me for help!"

Sunday, January 28, 2007

The Autobiography of Malcolm X essay prompt

So Im pretty stoked about the fact that out of my class of 10 students, 4 students have finished The Autobiography of Malcolm X a month before schedule, 2 students are ahead of schedule, 3 students are relatively on schedule and only 1 student lost the book!

This is what I was thinking for their final assignment prompt:

Write an essay discussing the theme of love in The Autobiography of Malcolm X. Where are the instances of love that developed the man we have come to know and admire as Malcolm X?

Please comment. What do you think?

which superhero are you?

Hmmmm.....kind of amusing. I guess a small part of soul searching is taking part in these online quizzes....nah.......

Your results:
You are Batman
























Batman
80%
Hulk
70%
Robin
67%
Catwoman
60%
The Flash
60%
Superman
55%
Wonder Woman
50%
Green Lantern
50%
Supergirl
50%
Spider-Man
45%
Iron Man
40%
You are dark, love gadgets
and have vowed to help the innocent
not suffer the pain you have endured.


Click here to take the Superhero Personality Quiz


Saturday, January 27, 2007

admirable children

In Pakistan, children enter the life of vagabondage at an early age. Its easy when nobody cares about you. Many children are simply expected to grow up and become laborers, so there is no vested interest in advancing things we take for granted like education. That's also partly due to the fact that poorer families need additional sources of income, so their children start working as shoe polishers, delivery boys, "sales" persons (selling sunglasses, little toys, socks), and beggars. Its a sad and imprisoning cycle of which there is seldom escape.

In Multan, my cousin Riaz bhai and his family have brought in a young boy to work in their home. Altaf is actually from our village, #65, and he used to spend most of his time roaming aimlessly, playing marbles, and occasionally helping his family to cut wood. His life, like many others his age, was void of an education and learning. Was it void of love too?

In my cousin's home, he is like their fifth son. He does many of the household chores, he is well fed, clothed. My cousin's wife, Shamshad baji, has been teaching Altaf how to read Urdu and Arabic. He is scolded and disciplined; for when he would sneak food to snack on for later or cut corners in his chores. In play, Riaz bhai does his signature slap on Altaf's back real hard so it makes this pop sound. I know because Riaz bhai does the same to us. It hurts so bad it feels good. It feels like love.

We all went to Village #65 from Multan. Altaf came also to visit his family. One morning my nephews, my brother, and I walked over to his place to pick him up. When his parents called for him signaling that we were here to pick him up, he came running out, hugged us and said, "Lets go."

"Umm, Altaf did you finish your breakfast?" we asked. He thought about it for a second, and went back inside. We waited for about five minutes. He came back out and said, "Lets go."

"Umm, Altaf did you say goodbye to everyone?" we asked. He thought about it for a second, and went back inside to say goodbye. He came back out and said, "Lets go."

At first I thought that maybe there was never any love for him in his family. How his life was already a dead-end waiting to hit before coming to Multan and how easily he walked away from them to be with us that morning. Then I thought about it some more. Altaf's biological parents did love him, because they agreed to send him to a place which would be better for him. An environment that would help him grow, an environment where he could learn, an enviornment where he could be loved more than even in his own home.

But it was Altaf's gratitude that struck me more than anything. I have never seen a happier worker. Seriously. A reminder for me especially, to be thankful because we've got opportunity here. Young people like him that recognize such signs of mercy are only to be admired.

Thursday, January 25, 2007

divine mercy is manifest

Stop talking for just a second. Please think about that title. I have a story to go along with it, I just realized I dont feel comfortable writing about it right now.

Appreciate the little things. Like the fact that you are alive.

Tuesday, January 23, 2007

in between two realms of darkness

in between two realms of darkness
a humble candle
struggles to burn brilliantly
they warned her, burn gentle or you'll kill yourself
the candle replied,
to live out my life dim is my only death
even to glow like the sun for a second
you and i will both know
that i truly lived

Sunday, January 21, 2007

sacrifice

This year, we celebrated Eid-ul-Adha in my father's village in Pakistan. Village #65. Very different than in the States on a bunch of different levels, but one of the most obvious was observing the sacrifice. Not very common out here to bring a goat in your front lawn and...you know....do the deed.

When the second goat was being taken away, all the goats started "baaah-ing" like crazy. And just like your supposed to, everyone was very careful not to get the goat too excited, in order to limit the suffering of the animal. No knives were shown, the sacrifices were done outside where other animals cant see....but still the goats went nuts. Do they know whats happening?

Life grows, life goes.

Its harder to kill something that you've raised and taken care of. I mean jeez, I was just feeding and playing with the goats for like 3 days before slaughter and I was trippin out!

One admires the obedience of Abraham to accept serving out the order from God to sacrifice his son. From what we know, he put aside his personal feelings to do what he had to do.

I also remember the dialogue between Krishna and Arjuna in Bhagavad Gita. Basically, Arjuna is doubting his role as a warrior right before a very important battle. He does not want to fight because it happens to be against his friends, family, and teachers. Lord Krishna then advises Arjuna on universal harmony and duty; that only through taking action and fighting that battle for justice will he surrender himself to the greater unity with the divine aka achieving enlightenment. Arjuna's own fear and hesitation is what impedes his step towards realizing the greater truth.

The only thing stopping us from exploring the truth is ourselves...

Saturday, January 20, 2007

goodbyes and hellos

Once upon a time, someone asked me, "Did you study tasawwuf when you were in Egypt?" I remember impulsively replying, "No. Not formally. I mean, I think that just being there and observing things and letting things affect you so you reflect and appreciate life....I guess thats kind of like studying tasawwuf. Im sure that if you really wanted to, you can go and study with someone like you study fiqh." I thought to myself, wait did I just say that? Huh?

Less than a week ago, I came back from a 25 day "vacation" in Pakistan. Its been 6 and a half years since Ive been back there. Upon my return, I thought about that tiny dialogue I had about tasawwuf. I believe in that answer now more than ever before.

How do you teach someone what love is? How do you teach someone what taqwa (God-consciousness) is? How do you purify your heart, your mind, your soul? You just got to do it! You just got to experience it man! Its all there! Open mind open heart. Think and feel freely. Let things affect you so it helps you grow.

That would be the most ideal wouldnt it? The next best thing.....learning and reflecting from the experiences and reflections of others. So I figured I would share some simple relfections over time with you my dear friends, my family, my comrades, my dawgs. I am a searcher just like you.

Egypt and Pakistan were completely different experiences. I have no attachment to Egypt, but Pakistan is home to my blood relatives. My parents came from there. And I came from my parents.

Observation # 1: Goodbyes are hard. They really are. When we were leaving, I felt a knot tighten in my stomach as I stood there and watched my parents fight back tears as they part once again from those that raised them. Leave the place that was their comfort zone. Go back to their lives in this strange place called America. A place they will never completely understand.

I can only imagine what was going through their heads. "Will I ever see you again? Maybe, maybe not but I hope to God that I do. Please take care until then. Please?"

What a sacrifice. Economic opportunity, a better life. A decision that was made with us, their future children, in mind. Dont know if I could ever do that. I think a lot of us are here in the States for that reason....or am I alone on this?

Everything happens for a reason. Now you're here. What have you been doing about it? What are you going to do about it? What are we going to do about it? Lets do something about it. I really want to do something about it.

jet lag stinks

I cant sleep. Jet lag stinks. Mind is full, stomach is empty. Let it out! Let it out! Let it out! I want to play with legos all day, let water fall on my head indefinitely, bang the hell out of my tabla, read all the books on my bookshelf, master my flow.

Patience Naveed. God mentions it 114 times in the Holy Qur'an. Payshens. Paaaaaayyyyyyshenssss.

I dont have to change the world by myself. I just need to change one person who will go on to change the world. Payshens. Why dont you just change yourself? Hmmmm......

Mr. Kant, your categorical imperative goes more than just skin deep. Can I type myself to sleep?