I was originally going to post something about a little fight I had with my sister but was too lazy to write it out in all its details so I decided to write a poem instead. Ya like?
Like a fluttering speck of dust, writhing in the air, twisting and turning in the spotlight.
Like a dream on the brink of consciousness, swaying this way and that is its fight.
Like sparkling eyes holding back emotions, while bright tears sting inside.
Like a thought so surrendered, its heartbeat subsides.
With a heart full of passion, its emotions burning,
with a force so resounding, waterfalls flowing,
With a breath full of life, a runner's call,
With a piercing voice, the morning adhan; the sun falls.
As the twilight silences the night --
As the moon crawls out with all its might --
As the stars succumb to the lights --
While the Inconsequential lies.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Thursday, January 21, 2010
The Age Game
Yes, I poked that sleeping dragon...
We all have things we are self-conscious about: the pointy nose, the doughy chin, the vampire teeth, the round-as-a-balloon face. This is a story about one such thing: age.
Personally, I haven't been that self-conscious of my age, probably because I'm the youngest in my family. In any case, I understand why others are and I've always tried to be respectful of that. Without going into any details, I have had multiple opportunities to flaunt my age in people's faces (especially since I graduated early) but instead chose to hide it, not because I was ashamed, but because I didn't want to change their behavior towards me. I didn't think of them as any different than me and I didn't want them to think that way either.
But I digress. I have upset the sleeping habits of this particular dragon due to a conversation I had with a close relative of mine. The conversation was about age differences within families, particularly mine and hers. I mentioned that their age differences, although greater than ours (as they have more siblings than us), seemed smaller, perhaps because they seemed so mature. This was taken in jest until, to prove some UNKNOWN point, she started listing all the ages of everyone in both families. Might I add that she stated I was 22. However, I didn't have a chance to correct her as she had continued on with this for what seemed like quite some time (tumbleweeds may have gone by), each time comparing their birth year to hers. During this time, I had the opportunity to wonder---yes, you guessed it---What the heck is wrong with you?!?!
Finally, after what seemed like a while, she stopped and repeated that I was 22. This time, I suppose she recognized that I had the what-the-heck-is-wrong-with-you look on my face and asked, "You're 22 right?" to which I replied with a smile, "No, I'm 21." She looked at me with a quizzical face and asked, "Are you sure?" No, I don't remember my own birthday. I just like to randomly guess my age on those pesky little forms you have to fill out everywhere you go. (Sarcasm anyone?) "You're two years younger than me right?" She asked. "I am three years younger," I replied, got up and walked away from this absolutely ridiculous conversation.
Now, I know what you're thinking: so, she thought you were one year older, BIG DEAL! You're right. It's not a big deal. I'm 21 now, not 22, but a year from now I will be 22 and, well, she would be right. But, you see, that's not the point. The point is that she felt the need to dish out everyone's age, many of whom were not present, get someone's age wrong and second guess that person's response based on her belief that she knew how old everyone was in comparison to her. Well, with all due respect, I sincerely believe she should rethink this absolutely useless employment of her brain cells. Wouldn't you agree? Rather than memorize everyone's birthdays (which serves no other purpose than to boost one's ego and bust others'), wouldn't it be better to use those brain cells for world peace, or the hunger crisis? Even the ever challenging question of "Who came first: the chicken or the egg?" is more worthwhile than this pursuit.
Being 21, I am not an "old" woman looking to garner support for her position in life, I am a simple girl who has the luxury to say something truthful without being pigeonholed: Why, oh why, do we use a meaningless number to define individuals in their entirety; sum up their entire life, their beliefs, their behavior, their personality, their hopes, their dreams, their accomplishments, their failures into one number? How does knowing that someone's 21 or 22 tell you who that someone is? The answer is simple, it doesn't.
Perhaps this modern custom of assigning significance to a person on the basis of age would not seem so obnoxious to me if it was yet another patriarchal aspect of society but it is absolutely infuriating when you realize how much of this is the product of women themselves labeling others with the same instrument that wounds them. It is quite apparent in society that women are sensitive about their age, something that implies that there is some incredible significance in it. Add to this the fact that they pass on this shamefulness to their daughters and act ashamed of their ages as well. At this point, which of these women have any authority to say that defining a women by her age is immoral, when they themselves subscribe to this perspective? How can we say that something should not be done when we ourselves perpetuate it? So, please, if not for your sake, then for the sake of those you call your sisters, your mothers, and your daughters, do not -- I repeat, DO NOT -- make age the one defining factor of a person who is so much more than that.
I am 21, yes, but that's not all I am. You're x years old, yes, but that's not all you are. So, next time you feel the need to waste your brain cells on someone else's age so that you can bring it up at the next party to embarrass them or to make yourself feel better, realize that you are wasting your time because at the end of the day you have memorized two digits that go after one another but have no real significance in anyone's life, especially not yours. Use those brain cells and that precious time in your life to go hug a baby. At least, it won't think you're evil.
We all have things we are self-conscious about: the pointy nose, the doughy chin, the vampire teeth, the round-as-a-balloon face. This is a story about one such thing: age.
Personally, I haven't been that self-conscious of my age, probably because I'm the youngest in my family. In any case, I understand why others are and I've always tried to be respectful of that. Without going into any details, I have had multiple opportunities to flaunt my age in people's faces (especially since I graduated early) but instead chose to hide it, not because I was ashamed, but because I didn't want to change their behavior towards me. I didn't think of them as any different than me and I didn't want them to think that way either.
But I digress. I have upset the sleeping habits of this particular dragon due to a conversation I had with a close relative of mine. The conversation was about age differences within families, particularly mine and hers. I mentioned that their age differences, although greater than ours (as they have more siblings than us), seemed smaller, perhaps because they seemed so mature. This was taken in jest until, to prove some UNKNOWN point, she started listing all the ages of everyone in both families. Might I add that she stated I was 22. However, I didn't have a chance to correct her as she had continued on with this for what seemed like quite some time (tumbleweeds may have gone by), each time comparing their birth year to hers. During this time, I had the opportunity to wonder---yes, you guessed it---What the heck is wrong with you?!?!
Finally, after what seemed like a while, she stopped and repeated that I was 22. This time, I suppose she recognized that I had the what-the-heck-is-wrong-with-you look on my face and asked, "You're 22 right?" to which I replied with a smile, "No, I'm 21." She looked at me with a quizzical face and asked, "Are you sure?" No, I don't remember my own birthday. I just like to randomly guess my age on those pesky little forms you have to fill out everywhere you go. (Sarcasm anyone?) "You're two years younger than me right?" She asked. "I am three years younger," I replied, got up and walked away from this absolutely ridiculous conversation.
Now, I know what you're thinking: so, she thought you were one year older, BIG DEAL! You're right. It's not a big deal. I'm 21 now, not 22, but a year from now I will be 22 and, well, she would be right. But, you see, that's not the point. The point is that she felt the need to dish out everyone's age, many of whom were not present, get someone's age wrong and second guess that person's response based on her belief that she knew how old everyone was in comparison to her. Well, with all due respect, I sincerely believe she should rethink this absolutely useless employment of her brain cells. Wouldn't you agree? Rather than memorize everyone's birthdays (which serves no other purpose than to boost one's ego and bust others'), wouldn't it be better to use those brain cells for world peace, or the hunger crisis? Even the ever challenging question of "Who came first: the chicken or the egg?" is more worthwhile than this pursuit.
Being 21, I am not an "old" woman looking to garner support for her position in life, I am a simple girl who has the luxury to say something truthful without being pigeonholed: Why, oh why, do we use a meaningless number to define individuals in their entirety; sum up their entire life, their beliefs, their behavior, their personality, their hopes, their dreams, their accomplishments, their failures into one number? How does knowing that someone's 21 or 22 tell you who that someone is? The answer is simple, it doesn't.
Perhaps this modern custom of assigning significance to a person on the basis of age would not seem so obnoxious to me if it was yet another patriarchal aspect of society but it is absolutely infuriating when you realize how much of this is the product of women themselves labeling others with the same instrument that wounds them. It is quite apparent in society that women are sensitive about their age, something that implies that there is some incredible significance in it. Add to this the fact that they pass on this shamefulness to their daughters and act ashamed of their ages as well. At this point, which of these women have any authority to say that defining a women by her age is immoral, when they themselves subscribe to this perspective? How can we say that something should not be done when we ourselves perpetuate it? So, please, if not for your sake, then for the sake of those you call your sisters, your mothers, and your daughters, do not -- I repeat, DO NOT -- make age the one defining factor of a person who is so much more than that.
I am 21, yes, but that's not all I am. You're x years old, yes, but that's not all you are. So, next time you feel the need to waste your brain cells on someone else's age so that you can bring it up at the next party to embarrass them or to make yourself feel better, realize that you are wasting your time because at the end of the day you have memorized two digits that go after one another but have no real significance in anyone's life, especially not yours. Use those brain cells and that precious time in your life to go hug a baby. At least, it won't think you're evil.
Monday, January 18, 2010
What the heck is wrong with you?!?!?!?!?!
Hi! It's me. Fatimah Ansari. A 21 year old Muslim girl who graduated from university a year ago and is currently teaching at a private school. I'm starting this blog to relieve some of my frustrations...
We all have those moments where we're in the middle of what we assumed was a dignified conversation between mature adults when suddenly, like an unpleasant odor, someone decides to release something rude, blunt, racist, stupid (yes, comments can be stupid; if I offended your comment, my apologies -- note the sarcasm), ridiculous, vain, judgemental etc. etc. into the discussion and, in an effort to stay polite, we stay quiet even though inside our mind we're really wondering, "What the heck is wrong with you?!?!?!" After the conservation, like any well-mannered adult, we proceed to vent our frustrations by backbiting about that particular individual with a common friend, who knows them well enough to agree with you, however halfheartedly.
Before I say this about anyone else, I have to admit I have been on both sides of this situation. I have been the offensee (I know that's not a word but I trust your brain is capable of figuring this one out) as well as the offended. If I'm the offensee, I wholeheartedly apologize. Whatever was said was said as a result of my stupidity and, ultimately, I would rather not answer for it in front of Allah (yes, I said it). Please forgive me if you can.
Now, in the case of being the offended, after an encounter such as the one I described above, I find myself in need of an old-fashioned rant/gossip/backbiting session. In my experience, when mutual friends are involved (as is the case with most of these situations), things have a way of finding their way back to the person in question which results in my role being changed from the offended to the offensee and, well, you know how I feel about that. In an effort to change this unfortunate but common occurence, I have decided to create this blog as a safe haven for me to release my frustrations (anonymously of course) and as a reminder to myself and others to consider the effect of their words/actions. Perhaps by chance those who have offended others in the manner I discuss will realize the repercussions of things said and things done and will learn a bit about how to better themselves. Like I said before, this is as much for myself as it is for others, if not more. If I find myself behaving in a manner I have critiqued, I hope I have the courage to issue an apology.
Please remember to take this with a grain of salt. We're all human beings; we all make mistakes and we all like to complain about others who make mistakes. Only those that learn to forgive others and to critique one's own self first have the upper hand. In case, you're wondering I'm not there yet... [If you're not either, feel free to join me in this cathartic exercise by leaving a comment with your own personal story and I'd be happy to post it for you (with proper credits, of course)!]
Oh and one more thing...if you benefit from this even a little bit, please make dua (prayer) for those of us who have a habit of momentarily losing our minds (i.e. saying/doing stupid things)... May Allah make this world a better place for all of us and for those that come after us... May He make us pure of heart and fill us with compassion towards one another. Ameen.
We all have those moments where we're in the middle of what we assumed was a dignified conversation between mature adults when suddenly, like an unpleasant odor, someone decides to release something rude, blunt, racist, stupid (yes, comments can be stupid; if I offended your comment, my apologies -- note the sarcasm), ridiculous, vain, judgemental etc. etc. into the discussion and, in an effort to stay polite, we stay quiet even though inside our mind we're really wondering, "What the heck is wrong with you?!?!?!" After the conservation, like any well-mannered adult, we proceed to vent our frustrations by backbiting about that particular individual with a common friend, who knows them well enough to agree with you, however halfheartedly.
Before I say this about anyone else, I have to admit I have been on both sides of this situation. I have been the offensee (I know that's not a word but I trust your brain is capable of figuring this one out) as well as the offended. If I'm the offensee, I wholeheartedly apologize. Whatever was said was said as a result of my stupidity and, ultimately, I would rather not answer for it in front of Allah (yes, I said it). Please forgive me if you can.
Now, in the case of being the offended, after an encounter such as the one I described above, I find myself in need of an old-fashioned rant/gossip/backbiting session. In my experience, when mutual friends are involved (as is the case with most of these situations), things have a way of finding their way back to the person in question which results in my role being changed from the offended to the offensee and, well, you know how I feel about that. In an effort to change this unfortunate but common occurence, I have decided to create this blog as a safe haven for me to release my frustrations (anonymously of course) and as a reminder to myself and others to consider the effect of their words/actions. Perhaps by chance those who have offended others in the manner I discuss will realize the repercussions of things said and things done and will learn a bit about how to better themselves. Like I said before, this is as much for myself as it is for others, if not more. If I find myself behaving in a manner I have critiqued, I hope I have the courage to issue an apology.
Please remember to take this with a grain of salt. We're all human beings; we all make mistakes and we all like to complain about others who make mistakes. Only those that learn to forgive others and to critique one's own self first have the upper hand. In case, you're wondering I'm not there yet... [If you're not either, feel free to join me in this cathartic exercise by leaving a comment with your own personal story and I'd be happy to post it for you (with proper credits, of course)!]
Oh and one more thing...if you benefit from this even a little bit, please make dua (prayer) for those of us who have a habit of momentarily losing our minds (i.e. saying/doing stupid things)... May Allah make this world a better place for all of us and for those that come after us... May He make us pure of heart and fill us with compassion towards one another. Ameen.
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