We All Have Those Tear Jerkers That We Adore

For the most part, I'm not a crier.
Yes my heart does get that sinky feeling when I see a sad scene in a movie, but crying is a whole 'nother level. In fact, I can list the 5 movies that have ever brought me to tears. (Mostly Bollywood, just a heads up. And I do have a few spoilers).

1.) Kabhi Kushi Kabhi Ghum - a Bollywood movie. I was 10 when I saw itand the whole disunion and reunion with the parents got two tears to trickle down.

2.) Khuda Ke Liye - the only successful Paki film I have ever seen. When the older brother was arrested for 'suspicion' of terrorism and tortured, I kept thinking things like 'that could have been my family. That could still be my brother (God forbid)' and man, the water works were continuous whenever the older brother appeared on screen.

3.) My Sister's Keeper - the only Hollywood movie to make me tear up. Oh man, the entire story accompanied with phenomenal acting (for the most part) had a trickling tear on my cheek every 10-15 minutes.

4.) New York - another Bollywood movie. So most of the acting was serious crap, and the story-line and depiction of Muslims was...stupid. For real. The part that got me though, again, was the scene where the guy was tortured in the cell for suspected terrorism (again!). What can I say, I think of the people I care about and then my brother especially, and the water works start a pouring. Gawh, living in America and we fear being picked up without a trial or call or rights, all under the name of some 'suspicion' that can't be proven. -BLOOD BOILING-
ok, moving on to last film because if I don't, I'll end up going on a crazy long rant about this topic alone -___-

5.) We Are Family - Man, Bollywood has got those sad, heart-wrenching scenes ON POINT. Bollywood does have this habit of trying to mimic the western world - film industry included. Now the action remakes and thrillers are just not in the same league. But when they do remake a dramatic film, they do it 10 times better. I actually liked this movie so much that I plan to add it to my collection.

And that's the list of movies that have ever, ever made me shed a tear or more. But I do know plenty of people who tear up quite often when watching movies. Some people I know find an excuse to cry in every single flick. I honestly think that's how they enjoy their movies the most, and that's totally fine. After all, we all enjoy our movies differently.
Like I said, I'm just not a big crier.
But don't get me wrong, I do love movies. I'm actually a big movie-goer.

I have two separate collections - VHS and DVD.
My VHS collection is all Disney. Cinderella, Lion King, Mulan, etc etc. Disney magic man, you just can't beat it.
And then there is my DVD collection, which has a completely different genre of movies.
This consists of musicals, serious comedies, horror, superhero movies, a few select Bollywood films, and those really pretty Asian films like Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon and Hero.

But even all my movies, I'm ma social watcher. When I watch movies alone I feel like I'm wasting my life away. And ultimately, I am.
But when there is someone else with me, it becomes a social gathering. You enjoy the movie together, discuss it after, create inside jokes through the movie's dialogue and scenes, etc etc.
Company makes a huge difference for me, I feel like I like the movie a whole lot better too. But of course, that part is just psychological =P

Now as far as movies I don't like - well I'm always willing to give a different movie a try. However, there are a few that I can tell I won't like just by the commercial or the reputation it has.
Example: Harold and Kumar. It's a very popular movie with popular sequels but, raunchy comedies are just not my thing. I don't find myself lmao, and I don't feel like finishing the movie most of the time.n A friend of mine used an excellent term for movies of this genre; she said they have dude-appeal, which is very true! Most of the guys in my family and friend circles think these movies are just freaking hilarious.
As I said before, I can't really sit through it. I don't know how many girl like the movies, so I can't state this as a fact, but I definitely feel dude-appeal is the correct adjective.

Another movie that seemed to win people over instantly was Kick-Ass. Now I went and saw this movie for the sake of good friends (as a social watcher, I usually will go watch a movie I don't care for simply for the sake of good company), but man....I did not like it a bit. The gory, the realistic-unrealistic jumble - it just didn't have me entertained. Yet clearly they did something right because this movie had humungo positive review and gained tons of popularity.

Finally, going back to how I started this blog, there are plenty of movies that have a most of their viewers just tearing up all over the place.
Example: The Notebook, Just Go With It, A Walk to Remember - I'm sure you know this genre well.
The classic chick-flick that you sit with your girlfriend's to watch and drift into lala-land thinking of the perfect guy and how he could be yours.
Not my thing.
I just can't do it. Chick-flicks make me gag. I understand the pretty concepts and the perfect moments they try to capture, but I just can't sit through more then half an hour before having the urge to yawn...
And nope, these movies have never gotten the tears flowing from me.

What about you? What movies have made you shed a tear or two? Are you a big movie-goer, or is it not your thing? Do you like company when you watch? or are you a solitary viewer? Do you prefer theaters or at-home movies? Tell me about your movie-watching quirks!

He was an amazing person. One of the best kind to walk the earth.

Before I begin I have to excuse myself, and I hope you will too. I've had the plague for the past few days and my thought process is not up to usual speed. I have actually been trying to type this post since 4:30pm yesterday but nothing seems to be cooperating inside me. In any case, this is a an apology beforehand, for the scattery nature of this post. Also as a heads up, you should know, this post is of a more serious nature than usual. Now, onward.

Yesterday one of my father's best friends passed away.
Inna Lillaahi Wa Inna Ilayhi Raaji'oon.

We had known that his final time was approaching. Just over a week ago the doctors said he had between 3 days and 3 weeks. I think everyone put a shield over their hearts with that news so that when it did happen...well I don't know. It's never easier but we're human. We do what we think will make it easier even when we know, the passing is hard no matter what.

I know I definitely put in efforts to make this time easier.
You see, Gulam Uncle had had a stroke, I want to say about 3 years ago. His body was paralyzed, practically 90%. I know his family was in shambles.
The doctors didn't give him more than 1-2 months to live, but Mashallah, he pulled through for over a year.
However, in that year, I think I may have been the only person who had not gone to visit him. Not even once.
I know, it sounds very heartless. And if I have to be honest with myself, it was a purely selfish decision. My dad had gone to see him as soon as he received word of the stroke and when we came back, he seemed to have aged 10 more years in the span of a few hours.
There was depression written in the lines of his face, and I felt like I could hear the melancholy wheels turning in his head.

Abu described Gulam Uncle as a completely different man from the one in my memories.
The Gulam Uncle of my childhood was tall and sturdy. He was the strength and provider in his house. Gulam Uncle was always lively - always joking, laughing and smiling. He had two daughters when we all lived in the same neighborhood, and those little girls gave him the sweetest disposition. I honestly can't recall ever seeing him angry or upset. Gulam Uncle just always created an air of goodness, naturally.
But this was a far cry from the man Abu described.
When he had gone to see him that day, Gulam Uncle was very...tired. Abu said that he was still smiling and joking, but that there was tiredness on his face that refused to go.
Gulam Uncle was worried, and scared. And I know that no matter how much he may have tried, that was something he couldn't conceal.
And all this, it really affected Abu as well.
Abu couldn't believe that someone like Gulam Uncle, someone so strong and firm, could be brought down so hard. I think every time Abu went to visit Gulam Uncle after that, he came back with the same awe and disbelief from the first time. He just couldn't believe it. It made him more concerned for his health too.
I think all fathers have this sense of being the stone walls and foundation of their families. That no matter what, they can do anything, and will do anything to protect their families and that nothing can stop them from doing that.
And so for Abu to see Gulam Uncle rendered completely bed-ridden, well it gave Abu a harsh bit of reality to deal with.

All of that, all of that is why I couldn't bring myself to visit Gulam Uncle even once.
I couldn't handle the thought of replacing the Gulam Uncle from my childhood, with the one from present time.

My first memory of him was when I was 6 years old. I joined him, Gulam Uncle, and my father on a fish trip. We spent the whole day going from one pier to another fishing and enjoying the weather. I was so excited because I was the only kid who went with them, and on our trip I caught 4 little fishys and man, I just felt like the coolest little person ever.
After this memory I have little scarps of Gulam Uncle. He and my father were always very close, and that naturally made him a father-figure in my eyes.

I didn't want to see Gulam Uncle after his stroke because I knew that the Gulam Uncle who lived and the Gulam Uncle who was sick were practically two different people. I didn't want to remember Gulam Uncle as ill and bed-ridden, I wanted to remember him as the fun-loving father that I knew him to be.
And I think I succeeded in that.
I don't have the same image of Gulam Uncle in my head that most other people have.
When I hear someone talking about Gulam Uncle, the pictures that come to my mind are of our fishing trip. And of Eid namaz. And dinner parties and late night games of karem board and cards. I remember him being able to pick up his daughters in one fluent swoop, and laughing and talking with his booming voice.
That is the Gulam Uncle that I will always remember.

He was always in our prayers, but even so I know Gulam Uncle suffered a lot through this past year. And with him I know his three daughters and wife suffered as much in heartache.
I know as humans we have a tendency to question why the good people in life suffer the most.
But growing up in a Muslim household, we were always taught that God's greatest servants, are the ones that are tested the hardest.
I believe Abu and I have the same perspective, and it gives us the same hope - that the fact that Gulam Uncle suffered so much means that Allah never forgot him. That Inshallah, this past year gave him a straight ticket to Jannah, Inshallah.

Now it's the people who are alive that I feel more sorry for. A person passed, is a person passed. They will be missed, but they are part of the mystery of the after-life now. The people alive however, they have to adjust without someone very dear to them.
I know Gulam Uncle's wife and daughters will be kept in many people's duas, and there will be many people who will put forward the efforts to take care of them Inshallah.
But I know none of that will make up for this immense loss. I can't begin to imagine what they have had to go through. His wife stood by his side, unwavering, the entire time.
They had the knowledge that Gulam Uncle's time was coming to an end, and they continued to make memories with him, and care for him and each other.
They are a family to be admired, truly.

Inshallah they will be taken care of, and Inshallah Gulam Uncle is Jannah bound.
Ameen.

The Knowing, Almost Instant, Dismissal

I hate when this happens because it seems like the worst act of ignorance at times.
This is the dismissal people pass on others when they don't fully understand the problem, but think they are smart enough to solve it.
It's VERY annoying.

And I'm sure all of us have experienced this at one point or another in our lives.
The instance I can use for an example right now is my nightmares because this was a fairly recent conversation.
For the purpose of privacy, the other person will be referred to as Z.

Z - So why do you sleep downstairs?
Me - I feel safer downstairs.
Z- And a light is on because...?
Me - I have nightmares often, when I wake up I need to see where I am otherwise I freak out.
Z - Why do you have nightmares??
Me - ...I don't know...
In my mind - what the hell kind of question is that!?
Z - You're Muslim! You shouldn't have nightmares, you shouldn't be scared of other things!
Me - ....Seriously?? Are you kidding me right now?
Z - You should try thinking of positive things when you go to sleep. Or don't think of anything at all. Or count sheep!
Me - -_______- okay, you do realize that this situation isn't exactly in my control right?
Z - Are you sure?
Me - ......................................
Z - Well you should try what I told you.

What I was thinking and probably should have said:
It sounds to me like you have never has a nightmare before, so please do me a favor and shut up. You have no idea what these nightmares consist of, or how often I have them, or how long I've had them for. You don't really know anything about my situation, so I would appreciate it if you kept your ignorant advice to yourself because, believe it or not, I tried your obvious solutions eons ago with not avail. Don't act like you know what I am talking about when you really don't. And don't act like you know more than me when you're pulling words out your rear-end. Much obliged. -____-

These thoughts sound familiar to anyone? Because I've been in this situation so many times, it's ridiculous.
I've been given obvious advice about:
- Nightmares
- Insomnia
- Diet
- Career plans

People come at you asking about your issues, not fully understanding, and then offering these 'DUH!' solutions. No, of course I didn't think to try the obvious solution you just stated. I guess I'll try it now and let you know if, by some miracle, it actually works instead of all the other things I have already tried so that you can feel even more cocky about your brilliant idea.

Ok, that was exceptionally bitter. My bad. But can you tell how irked I get with this attitude??
To me, acting like this is a dismissal of the situation, which is just plain rude and disrespectful.
It makes it seem like the other person is not treating the situation seriously, when it clearly effects your life in a very serious manner. Again, rude and disrespectful.

Obviously people will try to offer advice and solutions once they find that you have an issue with something. That's natural, and caring. But in the example I gave, you tell me, did Z strike the tone of a caring person?
That tone of arrogance and knowing, that's the tone I hate. That's what makes the whole situation bitter and makes me feel like you really have no idea what's going on but you like to pretend you do.

I think people who have those odd issues that are uncommon for most understand this more. They are the ones who also have to deal with obvious advice and people who think they understand your situation. If you're like me, the genuine people are the ones you don't mind.

But like I said before, it's the people who act like know-it-all's that just piss me the hell off.

Seriously, if you don't understand the situation, don't act like you do.
Have questions? Ask them.
Have sympathy? It's welcomed.
Wanna try to understand what this person is going through? By all means. Your interest and care is appreciated.
But if you don't have the same issue, don't understand it, and still think you have something insightful to say, here's a few words of advice:
- Consider first, if what you are about to say seems like it's a 'DUH!' thing to say. If it is, don't say it.
- Consider your tone and your word selection. (Honestly, even if it is obvious advice, when it's given with the right tone and words, the thought is appreciated).
- Consider the fact that maybe you're just not fully grasping the situation (there's no harm or sham in that ya'll)
- And finally, consider the fact that maybe after considering all the above, what you are about to say is not such a gem of an idea after all and that you should keep it to yourself before you piss the other person off and come off as haughty.

And just for everyone, myself included, I think it's important for us to remember that there are plenty of things that we don't understand about other people. We don't always understand what the other person is going through, the different influences and effects of their situation, and their mind set. We don't always understand the different ways people go about handling their situation, and we should remember that what works for us doesn't necessarily work for others.
And we should always remember that if we don't understand something completely, it's better to ask to understand, instead of pretending to understand.

Which all reminds me, if I have ever passed unwanted, obvious advice your way, I'm sorry. I know how infuriating it can be. I promise I had no intention of dismissing your situation, or acting like a know-it-all about it :[

Random rant ya'll.

Reworking the wardrobe can really be a challenge yall

Before I begin, you ought to know my 'Fashion' history, although I hesitate to call it fashion because it wasn't. Even though I knew what looked good, and what should and should not go together, I never bothered to emulate any of it in my own wardrobe. As you will see, I have always been about comfort.

When I wasn't in charge of my own clothes, my mother bought me basic colored shirts or flowery prints, and pants - usually slacks.
When I got older my colors delved more into blues, blacks and grays, with the occasional pop of purple or red. I was always a huge fan of distinct jewelry so odd necklaces and dangling earrings were always a part of my wardrobe in middle school, even if they didn't ever go with anything else that I wore.
And then in high school I started my hijab so most of my earrings and necklaces went into storage. My colors were the same for the most part, but I added big sweatshirts to the whole look
a) because I could still wear my half-sleeved shirts that way and wouldn't need to go shopping and
b) do you know how comfortable those things are?? If I could, I would live in them!

Actually, now that I think about it, I kind of did live in those big sweatshirts all through high school..

Anyways, 2009 brought about the first year of college, and my style didn't much change. And when we went to Pakistan that summer of 2010, I had some suits made exactly the way I wanted, and so those became a part of daily wear as well. And that carried over through sophomore year as well.

As you can probably tell by now, I've always been about comfort. And honestly speaking, I was just plain lazy when it came to clothes. My mother had always taught me to wear loose fitted clothes, things that didn't reveal your body in fitting or sheerness, so that was never a challenge to emulate. But beyond that, I was lazy. If it was clean and 'modest' I'd throw it on and walk out.
I never bothered to match or iron anything - hobo hijabi for real yall.

But now, for the first time in practically 8 years, I'm trying to rework my whole wardrobe. And I gotta tell you, it's a freaking challenge.
I know what I want and need, but man, there are an abundance of clothing stores that do not cater to hijabis. Naturally. That's the fact of the matter so no complaining, but this does mean I have to look high and low for my pieces.
My goal for the past couple of months has been to incorporate more dresses and skirts in my wardrobe, and get rid of all of my old slacks, wrinkly shirts, and over-sized sweatshirts.

Ok, I'm lying. ALMOST all. I still want to keep a few professional pants around, and of course my salwar kamiz suits will still be there because those are perfect for me. I had them made super long and loose, but in a dress shape so I don't look like I'm drowning, and I think it would be silly to get rid of them when they work so well for me.
Anyways, so little by little I've been replacing my old closet with a new one, and the reason it's a slow process is because I'm picky in this particular field.

And I'm not picky in the sense you may be thinking. Colors and prints are a free for all. But the modesty check is where I'm picky.
Questions Muslims ask when buying clothes:
Is it long enough to cover my back and front when I sit and stand?
Is it loose enough where the figure isn't being revealed?
Is it solid enough? (Do you know how annoying it is to buy something only to realize it can't be worn because once the light hits it, it becomes glass?? Gawh, it's quite a nuisance).
I don't much ask about colors or sparkly things because thankfully, everyone wears all the colors and glittery things offered in shops, so I feel like that doesn't draw any more or less attention. And the neckline I don't have to worry much about either because there will always be something on top, or under, and then my hijab also drapes over my shoulders so thankfully I don't have to worry too much about that.

If I can't answer yes to all the other three of those questions, I'm back at square one.
And that's the easy part. It's when the answer to the questions are a 'maybe..' or an 'I'm not sure...' that makes the shopping tricky.

For instance, if the dress is long and loose at the bottom, then the top can be managed by covering up with a sweater or cardigan. But is the cardigan too fitting? Can I tie it, or does that make it too snug?
Could I pair this with a long draping hijab?
Etc. Etc.

And I'm getting introduced to some new aspects of fashion in the modern world as well.
Tights would be one of them. Until now, I haven't owned a pair of tights since I was 8 and what I have realized is that tights can give a false sense of security. If the dress worn over the tights is ankle or floor length, then I would say that's decent (and we're talking solid tights, not those weird textured or fishnets ones, I feel like those under a dress defeat the purpose too). But if the dress is knee high and worn over tights, or even skinny jeans, it defeats the purpose. Reason being that, covering doesn't just mean hiding your skin, it means hiding your shape as well.

On a side note rant: honestly, if I could charge a personal vendetta against skinny jeans I would.
Once upon a time jeans were loose, rough and tough products. You wore jeans because they were the common product, they lasted forever, and could be worn by anyone, anywhere, everywhere.
I was never one for denim, but it never bothered me until the skinny jeans fiasco broke through.
now when I think of jeans I think skinny, which is then associated with hipsters, divas, and a false sense of security that they're covering clothes because it's denim when in reality they reveal all of everything by squishing any fat into a lump that pokes out in those forsaken jeans. Girls and guys man, skinny jeans are just not attractive on either. I admit, it's a personal bias, but man do i greatly, GREATLY dislike skinny jeans.

Okay, off that bitter tangent.
So redoing a wardrobe in the modern world can have it's challenges for hijabis.

But the good news is that the challenge only makes it that much more satisfying when something is found. As of this moment I have 3 dresses, all floor length and loose Allhamdullillah. The top is the challenge. I hope that the cardigans worn on top don't make it seem fitted...maybe if I put another layer on?
Idk, I would rather look bulky and square than hint at something else.

Challenges, challenges.

In any case, I'll be doing my best to fit the major criteria.
I'm trying to redo my wardrobe in the first place because, as I'm sure you can tell by what I've already written, I never really cared before. Even now, I'd be hard pressed to say that I 'cared' a whole lot. I just figure I'm in college, I should at least dress my age, and besides that I haven't done American clothes shopping in eons so I figure it's time to clean out my closet.
But even then my laziness breaks through. Give me some long dresses, and a top and I'm done. I cant bring myself to care about matching much, or even ironing. Thank God most of the fabric is the kind that doesn't wrinkle easy xD

Anywho, I've was going through my closet and thinking all these things while I organized so I figure why not share and ask the general public about their closets.
So what about yall? Tell me your fashion history, what does your closet contain most of? When was the last time you redid your wardrobe? and when you shop, what criteria do your clothes have to meet to be purchased?

Be Warned: we will be discussing a lot of 'punctuation'

Warning: Delvin into some personal stuff here…
Ok, so if you didn’t know before you’ll know now, I have PCOS. A basic explanation of what that means, as explained to me by my doctor, is as follows:
Women with PCOS are classified as such because their ovaries are covered in a milky film that consists of multiple tiny cysts. Because of this, women with PCOS generally have messed up menstrual cycles which effects a number of other things in their body, which includes being more prone to diabetes, unnatural hair growth and unnatural weight gain. And then of course all of that effects just about everything in life. It doesn't seem like it would meddle too much in daily musings, but unfortunately it does. (End doctor part).
These women have a much harder time losing weight, which of course messes with self-image in our hollwoodized world. Hair growth is another problem. Checking to make sure they don’t look like the spawn of Sasquatch before they step out can take quite a toll on self-image too. And the whole diabetes thing – well it’s not enough to just watch what you eat. Usually these women will have to take Glugophage or Metphormin with their meals to make absolutely sure that their blood sugar is in control at all times. No one wants diabetes, especially prematurely.
I started having issues when I was 10, but we couldn't put a label on it until I was 18. We took a trip to Pakistan and went to the doctor there. They did a checkup, an ultrasound, and lo and behold, everything that was wrong with me could be classified in four capitalized letters: PCOS, which stands for poly-cystic ovarian syndrome. I remember crying the day I was finally labeled; I cried because I hated the fact that there was something legitimately wrong with me, but also because I finally knew what it was. It was a kind of relief.

I remember my adolescent years and mann, I was a hellish child. For real, the spawn of satan. My mother should get a golden carpet entrance to heaven for those 3 years alone because I look back now, and I don’t know how she didn’t kick me out of the house. I was always depressed, which caused me to always be angry. And at 11 and 12, I didn’t know how to take control of my anger. Efforts to control my emotions were always futile, and THAT was frustrating. And because we couldn’t figure out what was wrong, why I was feeling this way, and everything else, it all just became a vicious cycle of ups and downs.
I won’t go into the details of my menstrual history because, well nobody wants to delve in that personally. Hell, I don’t even want to get in that personally. What I will do is give a quick summary of the basic points, not going into month by month or emotional accounts here. So, I started when I was 10, and it was always irregular since then. At 13 one of my cycles lasted over 2 months, which scared all of us so I finally went to the endocrinologist who prescribed me birth control. Big mistake. Over the course of the 3 years I was on them, my weight shot up 60 pounds, with no hopes of losing an ounce in sight. I stopped taking them at 16 and that’s when we realized that my body had become completely dependent on them. After I stopped, I didn’t have a cycle for over a year because I wasn’t taking the medicine. Finally in Pakistan I was given medicine to regulate without hindering me like the birth control did. And very slowly, the weight has been trickling off and Allhamdullillah, I’ve been regular. = Basic summary.
Now all of this…sucked. There isn’t even a better word for it, it just sucked. From middle school through most of high school I was constantly depressed for just all of this. I hated having gained so much weight, I hated not being regular, I hated how my mood would take me from depressed to angry to just BLAH, especially during my cycle. It was like my hormones were having a rave inside my body, but I was the one with the hangover. Not cool.
And you know, I know this sounds like a sob story but the fact of the matter is, I was a teenage girl. You know you’ve all seen those movies with the high school or middle school girl feeling misfit and out of play, yadda yadda yadda. Well on the outside I was happy, and bold, and did my best to be optimistic and not think about all this. But then every day when I had to sit in front of the mirror to inspect my face and neck, making sure I plucked any unruly hair, well you can’t suppress how that makes you feel all the time. That’s when, if you multiply those teenage angst movies by 3, you get how I felt back then.
As I got older the PCOS got to me more, not because teen angst anymore, but because I realized that I had no idea whether or not I would be able to have children when I grew up (and at that point I didn’t know it was PCOS). Menstruation in woman is the biggest sign to say ‘congratulations! You have the natural ability to have babies!’ when that messes up, what are you supposed to think?
I had no idea what to think. I had to be on birth control to menstruate, which means I can have kids. But birth control hinders having kids…hence the term ‘birth control…’ very confusing.
Anyways, the point of all this is to explain how PCOS really affects women. It’s not just an illness that you can take medicine for to fix it. It’s a legitimate disorder and, get this, it doesn’t have a cure yet. The two ‘cures’ are either surgery to get the milky film physically removed, or sex (my bad, I wasn’t paying close attention to this part when the doctor was talking, but it had to do with the hormone changes your body goes through during sex that breaks the film and shifts things around). And in either case, you hope that the cure lasts, but you don’t know how your body will change or react later with your cycle, and during and post-pregnancy.
To paint a bigger picture: this makes for a VERY awkward conversation before I get married. Because PCOS effects my reproduction, I do have to talk about this with my future husband before I get married…which is scary as hell. Of course all the basic insecurities can’t help but bubble up – what if I get rejected because of this. What if I really can’t have kids. What if I’m just not meant to get married or have kids. (It’s a pessimistic downward spiral, we shall not go any further down). But you get the idea. Things get complicated.

All this isn’t easy to just ignore. Women with PCOS have to deal with it every day. It can take a toll on us, every day. If we let it.
If we let it. As I’ve already stated, I finally got to label what was wrong with me after years of figuring that there was something wrong with me. But I’m thankful that I found out what it was when I did because, now that I can look back at my life and everything I have been given, I’m actually quite appreciative for my PCOS.

That's one major thing I have learned about all of this that we call life. No it’s not all a mindset. But your mindset has a big part to play. I shamefully admit that I spent way too many years of my life with the “woe is me” and “life is unfair” mindset. Ok, true that I was an immature adolescent but, I totally self-victimized here. Seriously. Oh yeah, having PCOS still pretty much sucks, and I do get into my crazy bouts of emotion now and again – but it ain’t that bad ya’ll. This is gonna sound cliché, but at least I have my 5 senses and all my digits. I mean can you imagine not knowing what taste feels like? Or smelling? Or not being able to hold anything? And just everything!
The way I see it, everyone has to have a trial in their health life. All of us. It can range from diabetes and cancer, to acne or just not having the ability to put on weight. With the spectrum that broad, it is inevitable that every single person on earth will have some form of a health issue; they’re all our individual tests.
With that said, I think I’m pretty darn lucky with my thing. In fact, I’m quite thankful for my PCOS. It’s really helped me grow into myself. Yes, it did suck when I thought about it and let myself get down. But when I was out and about, living life, life was good. Scratch that, life is great Allhamdullillah. I have grown to really like my body, possibly more than the average female (which is saying a lot!), and really work on myself to like who I am as a person. (Haha - Don’t I sound like a self-help book!) But for real, so many of us constantly criticize ourselves about just everything. I’m not saying we shouldn't work on ourselves – who couldn't do with improvement? But I think I’ve found a good balance of working on self-improvement, without hating myself. From what I've observed, that balance seems to be hard to find for a lot of people, so I’m quite thankful.
I've learned to not be ashamed of something that has never been in my control. This is one of those topics that I have learned to be open about, because it is a medical matter. I've learned to not pretend there is nothing wrong and hope everyone just thinks I’m lazy or something. No something is wrong, but that’s not the only thing that matters. I've learned it’s not just a matter of accepting, but also learning to not be ashamed, afraid, and learning to move forward with what I've been given.
And I've learned to work on things that are important. Ok fine, so I can’t lose all the weight I want super fast, and I can’t do much about the other stuff either but take the medicine I have and visit the salon if I get annoyed enough. Slow and steady then. In the meantime, I can focus on much more important tasks. That ranges from the basics of praying 5 times a day and reading the Quran, to working on controlling my temper and opening my mind to all the different things this world has to offer. Thoreau had it right…to some extent….

Anyways, so the point of writing this whole thing is because September is PCOS awareness month, and yes half the month is over, but here’s the awareness. PCOS is there, women have it, and it’s legit. Your mother, or sister, or maybe your daughter could have it. No one can really do anything about it because it really is a personal disorder (then again what disorder isn't personal). But now you know that it exists. I guess the one thing other’s can do is just plain, be, nice. Words of comfort, a hug, etc, carry a long way. Whenever I start to get depressed my brother just sits with me and lets me whine until I feel better. In fact, there have been plenty of occasions where he’s gotten me a frap or something to eat, just to make me feel better. And all of it works, every time. A kind thought or action doesn't go unappreciated when you feel like crap. And after I’m done getting the crappy feelings out of my system, I’m back up and taking in life.

Who knows what the future has to offer, and who knows what will happen to me. But with this at least I have learned to not fear what has to come. Life is a test, and what test isn't hard. But you can’t tell me you don’t feel like the king of the world when you get an A or a B after working really hard for it. I feel like that’s how we should treat life. Shoot for the highest grade possible. Who would have thought that a disorder could teach you so much about life, and living, and growing, and just everything. Allhamdullillah.

And now you have been edumactionafied.

I'm ranting...about Eid! Ridiculous I tell you!

Yeah, I can’t believe I found something to rant about on Eid, but I did…and it sucks…

It has been an exact week since we celebrated Eid, and I do miss all of it, not just from this year but from my childhood as well.

Let me begin by telling you a little of what my Eid memories consist of, because to me those days were ideal ones.

Every year my dad would take me to this shop known as Poshak (back when it was a simple family-store, not a money-sucking business branch) and buy me my Eid suit. I would always let Abu choose the suit for me. We would buy bangles from the same store, as well as shoes and mehndi.

My aunts would put mehndi on my little hands as well as their own, and all night I would sleep in an awkward position so as not to ruin the design and have minimum chipping.

Back then I hated the scent of mehndi. Who would have thought I would grow to sniff my henna-ed up hands loving the smell of the green paste.

My mother would wake me up early the next morning to shower and dawn my new clothes, and then we would all head out for Eid prayer. We met all our neighbors and family, and I would show off my pretty outfit, "Abu got it for me!" In every house we went to, the savein tasted just slightly different. But I have yet to eat un-delicious savein. The thin noodle-like whey floating in boiled and sweetened milk with puffed up raisins and nuts was its own kind of heaven.

And then of course there was Eidi.

Eidi has a special meaning. Whether the adults are on good terms or not, whether you’re related or not, whether you've ever met before or not - none of it mattered when it came to Eidi. Regardless of everything else, adults gave children Eidi. It didn't matter who the adult was or who the child was. It didn't matter if it was a crisp new one dollar bill, or an enticing five dollar bill. All that mattered was that it was Eidi. It was a gift given to the child by an adult to celebrate the day of Eid.

And it's always special. I can still remember all the people that gave me Eidi from my first memory of Eid to now. When I was younger I would say "No, it's ok," because I was shy about taking anyone else's money but my parent's. But the adults would give a hearty laugh at my reply, un-curl my hand and place the money there while patting my head.

Eidi, hugs, mehndi, new clothes, savein, early morning Eid prayer - all make for just beautiful memories.

Unfortunately, I don’t think kids nowadays get to have as lovely memories of their Eid as I have.

You see, just like children remember all the kind, big-hearted adults that give us Eidi, children also remember the people who do not give them Eidi.

I saw adults with a stack of bills in their hands actually turn away from kids they did not want to give Eidi to. I heard these adults literally say “Where are the children? I don’t even see the children.” They said this in front of other children. There were plenty of children. They just didn’t see the ones they were specifically looking for. And boy, did those kiddos notice. Little faces drooped with confusion and hurt. I felt like I could read their minds "How come I don't get Eidi?" but of course, they would never ask in person.

I saw adults pick and choose the children they gave Eidi to, in front of other children. Not cool. That's just hurtful.

Just seeing that made my heart pang, I don't even want to think of how the little children that were noticeably ignored felt.

I didn't think I would have anything to criticize on Eid of all days, but what do you do when blatant acts of discrimination happen in front of you?

That's exactly what it was too, pure discrimination.

You know, I realize that the economy sucks, and we're all trying to save money, etc. etc.

But it's Eid.

Eid.

Eid is supposed to be the exception. After all, if we can spend money on our new clothes, and shoes, and bags, and everything else, than why not pass out a few bucks to make a child happy?

Seriously, even one dollar handed to a child with a smile makes the Eid special between that adult and that child.

In the same manner, turning away from a child without handing them anything, but clearly stating that you are looking for other children to give money to, makes the Eid a hurtful one.

It's a repulsive act quite frankly.

The damage done: the child was hurt on Eid, the child will remember the adult for that hurt (their discrimination and un-giving nature), the adult saved a few bucks.

Was it worth it?

Because that does not sound like it was worth it to me.

And you know what's even worse? These adults who specifically selected kids to receive Eidi, their children were not discriminated against.

There was a line that was formed, and all the kids passed through this line receiving Eidi. Family member's children, relative's children, friend's children, in-law's children, all walked through and received Eidi from, get this, 6 adults.

That's it.

Of all the families that were there, of all the 30plus adults, not even half were at the front of that line. 6 adults, which consisted of my father (who I am very proud for his open heart and hand), Sarwat, Ayesha, Shaulkut, Farqunda, and Farhana (excuse me for just using first names and not whole titles in this blog), while their own children were discriminated against by other adults in getting Eidi.

These six adults gave Eidi to every single child and young adult that passed through that line, whether it was one dollar, two dollars, or five. It didn't matter to them whose child it was, or how their relation was with the child's parents. All that mattered to them was that it was Eid, and Eid meant giving Eidi to children.

All those kids that passed through that line now have a positive perspective of these adults. When their parents ask who gave them Eidi, the children will think of these adults.

And then, they will think of the adults that turned away from them to avoid giving them Eidi.

In the afternoon, when the kids sat to count their Eidi, I saw how little their faces got when they counted their earnings and realized how little they got in spite of the number of adults that were there.

Children shouldn't have bitter-sweet memories like this of Eid.

Like I said, I know the economy sucks, but Eid is the one day that you’re supposed to make an exception for.

Well, we can’t go back in the past and change anything. I just really, really hope this doesn’t ever happen again. I want Eid memories for all the children to be good ones. Eid is a day of celebration. Celebration means happy (it's supposed to in my book anyways). Therefore, children should be happy on this day of celebration.

I loved Eid as a child, and I still do. I love getting my clothes ready, getting our house ready. I love staying up late and putting mehndi on all the girls’ hands. I love waking up early for Eid prayer, and then meeting everyone for food and hugs and pictures and Eidi. And I want all the growing children to love Eid and all it has to offer as well.

I hope that next year, all the adults that screwed up this time put in a greater effort to make Eid especially spectacular next time. I think they owe it to the kids.

Eid rant. I swear, I didn’t think it was possible. And yet, here is my completed entry to contradict that.

"Don't Worry"

I cannot begin to explain how much I loathe this expression. I literally cannot stand to hear this expression.

In my opinion, people say this when they want nothing to do with you. People say this when they want you out of their lives.

It sounds extreme doesn't it? But It's true. After all, what does worrying mean?
When people worry about you, they care about you. Worry means someone thinks that you are important enough in their life that not only are they willing to take time out of their own lives for you, they are willing to take time out to be with you, and help you during the rough, not so pleasant times in your life.
You are important enough to them that they are voluntarily concerned about your well-being.

And then you turn around and tell them "Don't Worry".
How insulting.
That's like slapping someone in the face after they just told you they loved you.
Not cool yo.

I can understand where you're coming from when you say those Godawful words. Most of the time people say it when they don't want to stress other's out about their own lives. They feel that whatever it is, it's their own problem. Or maybe that the issue is not big enough to warrant a great deal of concern from other's. Whatever the reason, I figure people say the words due to un-selfish reasons. They just don't want to be a bother to others.

Sincerely from the Others: shut the hell up.

After all, isn't that what loved ones are for, friends and family alike?
Sure you don't want to be a 'bother' to them, but that's what makes the relationship. The fact that there are more than just neutral feelings (if there is such a thing). The fact that you give more than two shakes of the sympathy bottle for them.

For real, if you don't get it by now here's a review:
People who love you, care about you.
People who worry about you, CARE about you.
Sometimes they say things you don't like or don't want to hear.
They're just trying to help you, at least give them that acknowledgement.
Just because someone is worried about you does not make you the burden.
You are only a burden when you are a douche.
And you are a douche when you tell people not to worry so don't do that!

Again, the Moral of the story: Don't tell people not to worry - unless you're a douche. In which case, douche away. The friendship shouldn't last too long with that dynamic. That's my opinion of it anyways.

Like I said, I hate when people tell me not to worry. You're basically telling me not t care.
And if you don't want me to care that's fine. But once I stop caring, I usually don't care to start again.
My automatic thought process after someone has told me "Don't Worry" one too many times - "fine. you don't want me to care? I won't care."

Don't get me wrong, I understand one "Don't Worry" That's excusable. But If you tell me not to worry even after I've told you that I care about you, and it's no big deal, and all the other things that go with it, and then you tell me again after that - then I'm done.
To me that just means you don't want me to be a part of your life the way I thought you did.
Because here's the thing, I don't butt in. If you don't tell me your issues yourself, I won't say a word because it's not my place.
But if you tell me, if you confide in me, and then shut me out when I try to help then I just don't know how to take it. It makes me feel offended that's for sure. And if the relationship stays in that odd limbo then I don't really want anything to do with it.

Make sense?
It's making sense in my head, but maybe not as I type it out....
In any case, all relationships have an give and take factor, whether it's friendship, family, acquaintance, romantic, peer, etc.
When you cut the give or take from that, and only focus on either the give or take, well it throws things off balance, especially for me.
I'm not sure what the relationship means then, and I'm not sure how to handle it.
That's why having someone say "Don't Worry, I don't want you to worry," more than once or twice is very confusing, and kindof annoying because it ventures on being hostile. Again, not cool. If you don't want someone in your life say so. But don't do the whole- Imma give you all my confidence and trust, etc etc. But I'm not gonna take anything from you because I don't want it - It makes the other person think, why don't you want it? Did I offend you? Did I say something wrong? Why don't you want me in your life all of a sudden?
I used to feel exasperated when I heard too many "Don't Worries" and ask myself all those above questions. But now if someone says those annoying words with enough emotion and meaning behind it then I wash my issues of the issue too. Fine you don't want me to care, Then I don't care.

I have to wonder if anyone else has ever felt this way?
Or am i the only loon who gets upset over these words?

Well in any case, that's the convoluted rant for the night.
Remember, don't tell me "Don't Worry" unless you honestly want me to stop caring.
Now doesn't that sound douchey.

Do you really know what you're teaching your kids?

I'm not just talking about what you sit down and tell your kids. Not just what you consciously do in front of your kids so that they can utilize what an excellent example of paternal care you are. I'm talking about the lessons you give your kids without even realizing it. The ones they overhear when you’re talking to your friends. The ones they observe when you yell at the television set because your team lost. The ones that your kids shouldn’t get at their age but they do because they’re out of bed and sneaking around, why? because they’re kids. Those lessons. Do you have any idea what you are teaching your kids through those lessons?

I ask because I just found out, after the school year is over, that my 10 year old cousin had been bullied the entire year and now he's afraid to go to school this coming year because he will most likely have to deal with the same kids.

What was he being bullied over? Being Muslim.

My blood is boiling. Seriously?? SERIOUSLY?? I'm not being able to digest this. In as diverse a city as Houston, lo and behold there is still ignorance lurking in the corners. And it's getting the kids.

So this cousin of mine was excessively bullied after 9/11. His peers called him all sorts of foul names.

The pushed him, twisted his arm, and stuck their faces in his as they mocked him.

They shoved food in his face when he was fasting during Ramadan.

They threw dirt at him during recess.

There was a little girl on crutches who called him a terrorist and would stomp on his toes with her crutch. My cousin never told on her because he felt sorry for her.

There was a little boy who maliciously asked him "why does your mom wear a rag on her head?"

Two other kids took the crosses they wore and pushed it in his face saying "convert! convert!"

Just for the hell of it, they called my cousin fat (which he's not but now he feels like he is).

And they threatened if he told the teacher. But that didn't make much of a difference anyways because his teachers were of no help. Of all these instances my little cousin recalled 2, maybe 3 times when his teachers stood up for him, during the more extreme cases. Otherwise they would often tell him to put his hand down or, get this, STOP TATTLING. Is anyone else thinking WTF!

My cousin came home crying and depressed more days than he could count.

And he wasn't alone.

There were 3 other Muslim kids who were bullied through the year without help.

One little hijabi was bullied into a corner where the other kids mocked her for wearing a "rag." The girls in that group flung their hair in her face, and the boys proceeded to pull it off her head completely. This was the only time the teachers decided to call parents and send these creatures to the front office.

Is your blood boiling yet?

According to my cousin the school has made efforts in informing the children of the difference between a terrorist and a Muslim. They has even had little events specifically to acquaint children with the idea of diversity, including a positive perspective of Muslims.

Which makes me think that the next place these bullies are getting their ideas from, is home. Do their parents know what vile little monsters they’re raising? Honestly, don’t they watch what they say? How can you talk so ignorantly and maliciously in front of little kids? And even when you think you’re alone you should watch your mouth if you have children in the house. You never know what they are going to hear. And you never know how they're going to take it. Or maybe these parents are home-growing their own brand of terrorism; I'd certainly classify it as such if these are conscious lessons.

This whole situation has me pissed. I'm pissed as hell that all this went on for a freakin year and I couldn’t do anything about it because I'm just now finding out. I'm pissed as hell at the teachers. Teachers are there as a second guardians. Your students should feel safe at school because of you. Your students should NOT feel like they can't come to you. Your students should NOT feel like there is no point in coming to you because you won't do shit. What the hell kind of teacher are you?!

And of course I'm ticked off as hell with these ignorant parents spewing stupidity in their houses so that their children can catch it like a disease and spread it on to other influential kids so that they all band together as a bunch of sick mutants to pick on the kids that are a little bit different from their own. How do you have the right to be a parent! There should be a universal law against people with this immense amount of ignorance passing their DNA on to the next generation. If humans still lived in the world of the fittest survive, these are the kind of people that nature would not have allowed to pass their genes on.

Inshallah, this kind of thing will never happen to my cousin again. I've told him to tell me if he sees these kids again next year and they pick up their antics again. I don’t know what I can do, but I'm going to do my best to prevent my cousin from seeing a year like this again. I'm all for growing up and teaching kids to fight their own battles, but this thing has crossed the line. He's 10! No ten year old should have to deal with shit like this. What happened to the days where our biggest concern was cooties?

Seriously, if you're a parent, or are planning to be a parent in your future, realize your responsibility. Realize that your kids will hear you when you think they’re not listening. They will see you when you think they won’t. And they will absorb everything around them like a sponge. They will emulate what they see and hear because that is what they think is right. If you are not ready to deal with being responsible for another life, in every definition of the word, then you need to back the hell of the parenting pedestal.

....Still pissed about all this.

If you dress like a teen, act and talk like a teen, it doesnt mean youre a teen

So I was out the other day and came upon a very uncomfortable sight to see – there was a….’mature’ woman dressed like it was her first day in high school and she wanted to prove she was an adult...and failing at it.

And to make matters worse, while I was trying not to gawk, a young girl possibly a few years younger than I walked up to her saying “mom, can I get this necklace?”

….I’m sooooo judging right now.

Lady how are you gonna dress even younger than your teenage daughter?? Does this not boggle anyone else’s mind?

I’m all for looking young and feeling young, but I do think there is a way to do it all. Looking young, and looking like a juvenile are two different things. I can tell you now, I don’t like seeing women who dress like they’re teenagers. Why? Because it makes me feel sorry for them. I feel sorry that at their age, and with their life experience, they have not learned to age gracefully. In doing so, they portray themselves as clinging to their youth in a desperate attempt to thwart aging.

The silly thing of it is, I don’t see why aging is seen as such a negative thing. Yeah you’re getting older. So is everyone else on earth. Join the club? Seriously though, you don’t need to make an excuse for aging, it’s a natural part of life. What we need to do is learn how to age gracefully and without losing ourselves.
The best example I have (a completely bias example, I admit) is of my own mother and father.

They’re in their mid-life ages, and they know it. But that doesn’t mean that they’re dismayed by it. My parents dress according to their age, they always have from what I know. When my father was young he wore chains and colorful shirts according to the fashion in his time. And my mom and her sisters have admitted to wearing new fashion styles as they came out in Nigeria and later in Pakistan. They lived out their time and had fun with the fashions.

And now that they’re adults they have their own sense of fashion. My father is usually in jeans or dress pants, or in a tradition salwar kamiz. And my mother is usually in a salwar kamiz or pant-shirt if we have to go out. But even then, her salwar kamiz are not glittery and sparkly all over the place. Where once she wore reds and oranges with tons of little jewels, she wears silky blues and elegant purples. Even with her American clothes, she went from wearing colorful flowery maxi dresses, to simple dress pants and long shirts with a scarf.
Occasionally my parents will break out a colorful out of this world outfit, but it’s usually for a big thing like a wedding or Eid. And even then, they don’t seem like they’re trying to recapture their youth, but are just re-visiting it with a fond eye.

So having parents like these, who know what it means to age, and do it gracefully and with a fond eye, I feel I have a sense of age appropriate dressing. My mother hates to wear more colorful clothing than me. Anytime she gets sparkly jewelry she passes it to me saying ‘oh, this is too showy for me. But it will look nice on my daughter!’ without malice. And you know what? I’m looking forward to that age too, when I go from being young and colorful, to grown and graceful.

It’s not difficult to make aging elegant, unless you try with your dear might to hold on to your youth.
Mothers of young adult and teenage daughters: look, I understand that you work hard to maintain your figure and look good for your age. And you know what, you do look good for your age. But ladies you need to let people realize that by dressing for your age.

When you look good but dress like an adolescent, I don’t think people think you look good for your age, I think they think you don’t know just how old you are. You and your daughter should not be shopping in the same aisles!

I hope to never see another middle-aged mother, or any aged mother for that matter, in a strapless top again. Please, layoff the mini-skirts, the halter tops, the PINK or JUICY sweatpants. Wear them at home if you have to. But for the love of the public eye, dress like you have sense when you’re outside!
Obviously just because you have growing kids doesn’t mean you let go of what it means to be fashion savvy. But learn to be chic in according to your age. After all, there is a reason they have all those racks labeled juniors and miss. All of us have to make that switch eventually.

We just need to learn to make that switch with a positive perspective on aging, and mercy to the people with sight around us.

I'm More Ignorant Than I Give Myself Credit For

The dilemma swarming my head at the moment: the rising number of young girls deciding to de-hijabify themselves.

Yes, I am more ignorant than I give myself credit for. I am ignorant because I lack understanding the world and people around me. No matter how I try to make sense of it, think it through, try to put myself in other's shoes - I just am not being able to understand the reason for taking off a hijab in America, specifically for women who made the decision to put one on of their own accord.

To be even more specific, I'm talking about here in houston. There are hijabis everywhere, so it's really hard to feel like the odd one out. It's so diverse that everyone fits in.

If there's one racist comment thrown at you, you have an army of open-minded people that stand up for you instantly.

More than anything, a girl who decides to put on a hijab is respected as a woman here. From my experience, people respect you for the decision you make of practicing your religion boldly, and even support you as they can.

So with all those pluses, why take it off?

I am sincerely asking for somebody to explain the reasoning here because I truly dont understand it.

Could it be social or family pressures that are too much to handle?

Is it an inner insecurity?

Or is it just a change of fashion?

God I hope it's not for the sake of vanity.

I had a friend who's older sister took her hijab off a few years ago. When I asked my friend why she did it, she said her sister was feeling constricted and couldnt even remember the reason she put the hijab on in the first place. So she took it off, and according to my friend she was a lot happier. At 14, I didnt know what to make of it. Now at 19, almost 20, I still dont know what to make of it.

She may have forgotten why she put her hijab on, but I remember her telling us - it was God. God...GOD.

How do you forget God?

How do you forget the reason for your pious action, was God?

What humans had the ability to distract your mind so much, that you forgot that the reason for your modesty was God?

I know, I know. I'm running around in circles with these questions. As you can see, i wasnt lying when i said I lack complete understanding for this surge of de-hijabifiying.

It's just very worrying to me to see and hear of a growing number of young, smart girls who are going against their own decision and dropping the veil.

It hurts to see a fellow Muslim drop a step down.

Obviously I dont know what is in their hearts - their reason, their faith. I dont know about any of it. All i know is what I see. And what I see is the decision to do something wrong over the decision to do something right. And i dont understand it.

The other thing that really bothers me is other people's reaction to a de-hijabification.

Why do people congratulate you? What is there t congratulate over?

The woman is no longer a hijabi. How do you even know what to say to that?

I sure as hell dont have words...but i'm 100% certain that 'congratualtions' is not the right word.

Maybe these 'well-wishers' think that these women are breaking out a primitive way of thought, and so they feel congratulations are in order.

Maybe their congratulating the girls for revealing their beauty..becoming more feminine? for becoming more independent?

Again, i'm ignorant here. I dont know. All I know is that, regardless of how happy you feel for someone removing their hijab, i think that its quite disrespectful and arrogant to congratulate them over it. I admit, I think it's offensive. To me that's the equivalent of blatantly saying you think the religion is wrong. You may think it, but that doesnt mean you have to seem so hostile, or smug about it.

Yes, yes, this is my bias speaking, I know...

SIGH.

As you can probably guess by the tone of this post, I feel quite upset. Fellow Muslim sisters are de-hijabifying themselves, and it just hurts to see it. There is a very simple way to explain how I feel: I dont like it. I just plain dont like it.

But...it's not my life is it?

It's not my life, not my decision, not my judgement, and not my relationship with God. It has nothing to do with me.

So here I sit, typing out this blog only to realize I cant really do much. And that just plain old sucks.

I pray that these girls turn to God again, look to him for strength, and find the faith to put their hijabs back on.

I pray that I and other hijabis find the strength and faith to continue wearing our hijabs for the rest of our lives, so that we may set good examples for other Muslims and represent Islam in the best manner we can.

And i pray that other Muslim girls find the reason and guidance they need to put the hijab on as proud Muslim women.

Inshallah.

Approaching a hijabi - Keep it in line.

I have been meaning to post for sooooo long, but what with finals and then computer problems, and then the lethargic state that is a huge symptom of the summer blues, I just haven't gotten to it until now.

While I have a number of things swimming through my head to post about, I'm going to choose the one that has been on my mind the longest. To you I'll state it as a question: How do you expect men to act with hijabis?

What brought this question to mind in the first place: (I always try to keep the story short but it never turns out that way does it? So, no promises this time!)

This semester I usually got to the building of one of my classes 5-10 minutes early. During that time I would hop on the computer in the study room and take care of e-mails, a syllabus scan, and of course a facebook scan (who could resist?). Usually I was alone for those few minutes, and I liked it that way.
However, one of the days one of our essays was due a fellow classmate, we'll call him T, was on one of the computers getting his final paragraphs in.
He started talking to me, and he was friendly enough so no big deal right?
He asked me what I thought about arranged marriages, which is common question for me.
Then he asked about what I ate, which is also a common question for me from those who are familiar with Islamic dietary rules.
T said, we should grab lunch or dinner sometime. Sometime. Considering I live on a college campus, this is also fairly normal. Everyone gets to know each other over food. I thought it was a bit odd that he mentioned some off campus place, but I reasoned 'maybe he doesn't like dining hall food.' So I didn't think much of it and gave the general 'sure.'
When we got out of class he asked if I had a facebook and added me - seemed normal enough to me. And then he sent me a message with his number saying to contact him. All of this seems normal right? Or am I just stupidly naive?

Anyhow, so I texted him back a 'this is Sobia' in equal exchange. From our texting I realized that when he said lunch or dinner sometime, he meant dinner tonight. I didn't feel comfortable meeting right away, and besides it was a weekday! I had procrastinating to do.
So I declined. He asked then when? I told T I was busy until two days after at least. He replied: 'Aww, youre going to keep me starving until Thursday!'
Me:....I'm not stopping you from eating..
And then I told him, besides my roommate isn't free until thursday either, and I dont go anywhere without her. (Cuz friendly dinner or not, there is no way in hell I would ever meet with a guy, whether I know him well or not, alone. Ridiculous!)
Anyhow, he replies: Aight. I was gonna pay for you, but I ain't gonna pay for her. LOL.
Me:...uh, you're not paying for me either.
T: yeah i am.
Me: No youre not. People dont pay for each other on friendly lunches.
T: Naw I got you.
Me: ...We'll see.
T: Yes we will! lol
This is what initially gave me a bit of a weird feeling. But then I thought maybe I'm over reacting, i'm just not used to excessively friendly people. I'm used to people approaching me with caution (and I prefer it that way, if I may add).
Anyhow, I stopped replying after that, but he kept texting! Random things. We weren't having a conversation. He was saying silly things and I mostly replied with 'haha' and 'ok' (i thought those were universal text signs that the conversation is over. Stop texting!) He finally did stop when I told him I'm gonna crash. It was 5pm. But at this point I was sufficiently uneasy. I do not like overly friendly behavior from men, especially when we just started talking. But again, I thought I was just being defensive so I put everything to the back of my mind.

T texted me 'Good Morning..' at 8:25am. If I wasn't creeped out before, I sure was now. I mean, I don't even get good morning texts from my mother!
So around noon I decided to text him and say : I cant make it Thursday, something came up.
T responded with something like you suck, or forget you, or blahhhhh - i forget which. And he said to get back to him whenever I was free. I said 'Alrighty' and didn't text him again.
A week went by with no problem. The next week though I got freaked.

So even after my 10 minute session in the study room, I came into class to find only one other person there (usually there are at least 3 or 4 from the previous class). We'll call this student S. S and I sit one chair apart, and for a minute it was just the two of us in class. Then T walks in with his booming voice "hello, my beautiful classmates!'
I reply 'hey.' S replies: 'Hey, how are you?'
T: 'good. good. If i was doing any better I'd be on top of the moon' (something like that)
After a couple of minutes of silence T: So Sobia...
Me: yes?
but he doesn't reply and S and I exchange awkward glances before we get back to our business.
T: I was really looking forward to Thursday. You left me hanging.
I refused to look up but replied: I couldn't help that.
T: Oh I think you could. I was very disappointed.
Me: Sorry but my schedule isn't up to me.
T gets up and moves to the seat between S and I saying 'I like this chair. I think Imma sit here today.'
I didn't reply. He pulls out his phone and shows me the texts we had exchanged.
T: 'See that? That was a week ago.
Me: Yeah and I'm still not free. I told you, my schedule isn't up to me.
By this time 2 other students have entered the classroom. One of them, J, sits right across from me and we exchanged our usual smiles and hellos.
If we're still waiting for the class to start I usually pull out my notebook and work on a henna design, which I had been doing the entire time this conversation played out.
T: What's that your working on?
Me: It's a henna design.
T: It's on a hand.
Me: mhm.
T: It seems like a floral design.
Me: it usually is.
T: what did you say it was?
Me: a henna design.
T: cool.. cool... aight. imma go.
Me: ok
T as he's getting up: falsifier....storyteller...
And he finally went back to his seat. J and S and I exchanged awkward glances, S and J seemed slightly concerned but I didn't say anything because I was just relieved that T was away from me.
When class ended I made sure he and I didn't leave at the same time, and when I saw that he was busy with someone else I bolted out.
Thankfully after that there has been no communication between us.

I was sufficiently creeped by all of it. As I stated before, I am not used to men approaching me in such a straightforward manner, and I'd prefer to keep it that way.
As a hijabi I like the fact that men in general show a form of restraint and modesty around me. My guy friends tend to not crack dirty jokes around me. Even though I curse like sailor (sometimes...not often....anymore...) I still get apologies from them when they let slip an exceptionally crude word. Of course there's never any touching of any sort. I choose my close guy friends carefully, and around the few I have I feel very safe and protected. Around everyone else, I'm usually on guard and the men around me always have a sort of restraint they maintain - physically, verbally, and mentally and emotionally (I hope).
So I don't appreciate guys being overly friendly with me, even if their intention are completely clean. It's just a matter of manners and appropriateness with me. And I felt like T crossed that invisible line, which made me feel very uneasy.

Now that you've read my little story, you tell me. Am I over thinking this? Or would you also feel kind of creeped if you were in my position?
And how do you think guys should, or should not approach hijabis? (by approach I mean in any terms - in friendly terms, or romantic terms, or whatever other terms you're thinking of that I probably left out).

On a positive note: T and i have not spoken since, and summer is here to give our brains a bit of a break from all those textbooks! =)

Those awkward meetings before you get married - and the craziness when it doesn't go through!

So I've had this blog in my mind since the last weekend but I just haven't gotten around to getting it down on the screen. If you're reading this you should know, we are definitely about to delve into some personal stuff (just a heads up, which is also why it's so damn long!)

Background story - ok so i recently had a proposal on my table and it disappeared as suddenly as it had appeared. Technically speaking, I was rejected. Honestly speaking, the guy and I knew this wasn't going to happen when we started talking. Now that's all fine and dandy - but not what the problem was. The problem was when I came home and was chastised for - quote unquote - "talking to much."

A number of my family members had the opinion (which was relayed to me both directly and indirectly) that i had talked too much, that I had scared the guy off, and that next time I shouldn't be 'allowed' to talk so much. They are of the opinion that next time my mother should not give me so much freedom... The reason for these opinions? Pure Pakistani culture...Culture....Cuuultuure...[Not religion -we 'bout to get into that]

You see in Paki culture, girls are supposed to be all quiet and prim and proper. Pretty little wallflowers that are born to serve. these fictional lovely ladies are trained to let the monster out after they're married. Surprise attack ya'll. but I'm from a Paki family, thus my unwallflower-like and honest ways have gone unappreciated. -sigh--haha, don't i sound self-righteous xD-

Unfortunately, the Paki concept of an arranged marriage is completely warped (ok, dramatically exaggerating a little bit here, but my point stands valid!). It's talk 2 times (and thats pushing it) and then take the plunge! Congratulations if it worked for you but, welcome to the 21st century. Where everybody is exposed to sex, drugs, and alcohol and their momma's still think their child is an uncorrupted angel. Lemme tell you now - what a load of bull. There's a reason we've been given certain rights in Islam (here i think it's to weed out the nuts and kooks). An arranged marriage is a collaboration between parents and children - all parties work together and say yes. They do not set out-of-date, culturally warped limits on each other - [Thank God for my mother. In a world of crazy, I can always depend on her to understand, even if we disagree sometimes].

I feel like my own family members are confusing speaking, with immodesty (oh these overwhelming cultural precedents). Nor is it dating! If you're not meeting alone, you're not touching, and you're not talking inappropriately, I'd say you're in the clear. And just an Fyi, this guy and I exchanged messages on facebook - that's it! No phone talk. No meeting. We didn't add each other as friends, just talked in a private message. If you're doing it right, it doesn't get much safer than that! Honestly speaking, immediate personal meetings scare me, cause then everybody and their mommas is up in your business (lame joke intended).

ANYWAYS! xD

So the lessons i was given were that girls should not talk too much. We shouldn't ask so many questions - otherwise we'll scare the guy away. And, this is not how "we" do it.

My first counter question is - who's "we"? I've noticed in my own family and others, that parents have quite a difficult time separating culture and religion. They do not understand that they are not one in the same thing. Talking urdu, and wearing salwar kamiz does not a Muslim make. Since when were the traditions in Paki so perfect that they could be set in stone? Having visited there I can give a quick first-hand example of what Islam in Pakistan is: Young ladies, you should step out the house with a duppatta on your head. Do not talk to men. Oh! But don't you dare walk out in those loose clothes! Nice and fitting. Don't forget a smudge of lipstick. Now thats what i call a Muslim girl.

I'm asking in all seriousness -- WHAT!?!

Now beyond that, came the chastising lessons that are the cause of this rant. How the hell do you ask too many questions?! I'm pretty sure, I'm willing to bet my right arm, there's no such thing in Islam. [http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SrnjYYuDfXs] <-- I swear to you, this man knows how to say it better than anyone else! Islam gives you the right to ask the questions you need, to get to know the person until you feel comfortable marrying them. Yes, this is an Islamic right. I thought about why my outspokenness may have unnerved some of my family members and I realized, it's because none of them have ever been in my position.

-Getting up close and personal- you see, I have PCO (Poly-cystic Ovarian Syndrome). What does this mean? Well in a nutshell, it means there is a milky film full of little cysts covering my ovaries, resulting in my hormones and menstrual cycles being out of whack. Due to this PCO, the number of children I can have is limited because I don't know how my body will change after marriage. And during pregnancy. (Allhamdullillah, I can have kids but I cant pop out no football team).

No, it's not a bad thing. No, its not in my control. And no, I am not ashamed of this dysfunction because God gave it to me and it's not in my hands. Its a test I have to pass, and a conversation I have to have. Bef0re I get married. In Islam if you have a medical condition, health issues, sex issue, and anything else that will effect you and your other half after marriage, you have to talk about it before you get married. You are obligated to have these conversations before you get married, because a marriage is certainly not to begin with dishonesty and hidden facts.

Allhamdullillah none of my family here has had these issues, before or after they got married.

But that is why they cannot understand how hard this conversation will be for me to have. But I have to have it, both Islamically and personally speaking. And this means whoever I'm talking to, well we'll need to talk a lot, and get fairly comfortable with the idea of marrying each other before I can have a conversation like this with him. (Believe me, typing this out is a lot easier than talking, especially when it's in scientific terms rather than emotional, but the conversation is gonna happen Inshallah).

In Pakistan, even if a girl does have these issues, they're not talked about before marriage for fear of scaring a guy off. First of all that's un-Islamic. Second, why in the world would you want to marry someone of such weak character?

As mentioned before, that was a point of chastisement in my case. To this I have concluded, if I scare him off, he wasn't meant for me. I know what kind of guy I should be walking up the aisle for (so to speak) and it's not someone who's quiet and un-social (cause all of us know at least some characteristic our spouse will need in them to be able to share their live with us and vice-versa.) And it's not someone who cant take me for who I am, flaws and all. Because I'd accept him for who he is, flaws and all. After all, no one is perfect. If I'm "rejected" because i have PCO then he is definitely not worth my time. To me that's as bad as saying no to someone because theyhave type 1 diabetes, or because they're of a different race. No - because of things they cant control. No - because of things God gave them. Talk about ignorance. Not in my spouse, thank you!

A personal motto I run by when it comes to this marriage business: If he can fight with me, he can handle me. [Now that's what I call a match made in heavn!]

I think it's ridiculous to blame someone for getting rejected. Or get mad at them for saying no. Are we supposed to marry the first proposal that comes along, eyes closed?! And I think it's just silly to get mad at a girl for being straight forward instead of beating around the bush. Ridiculous I tell you!

Parents need to realize that yes, they are raising their kids in a Paki manner, and thats great and all. But if they're being raised here, they are whole-heartedly American, and they will grow to realize that religion is right and that culture is always changing thus lacks complete stability and validity. I say to parents in the famous words of Scarf from the Lion King - 'Be Prepared!'

I figure I sound pretty RAWR after all this, I genuinely don't mean to. Certain circumstances and results had me wound up for some time. (I mean, the reason the 'advice' bugged me so much in the first place is because my family means so much to me. Even if I try not to, I cant help but care about what is said.) But now that I have it out of my system, I admit, I am very grateful to have been born in a Paki house. Because it's allowed me to learn so much. And i love all my family fro caring and getting concerned in their own way. I know where they're coming from and really, its a learning process for all of us. I just happen to be the first, so it's a little more challenging to match up view points.

Thats the thing, my brother and I are the oldest, and thus the experimental guinea pigs in our family. -lol, we don't mind though.- Because we branch out first, think out load first, we inevitably face the harshest consequences. But the youngin's are getting older, and learning. They'll be asking "why" for the big questions, and soon realize that 2+2 is not fish. And like my parents, their parents will adjust to that and hopefully come to have a great relationship with their kids, the way my parents do Allhamdullillah.

But Inshallah if my brother and I can manage to break a couple of these hindrances, things will be easier for our younger cousins.

Anyways, it's tough right now. And I expect it t get tougher. But Inshallah it'll all be worth it. Believe me, Islam ain't that hard ya'll. Sometimes, people just make it hard without even realizing it.

Warning: It's Kind of a Rant

I read a status on facebook that's got me thinking. I wont copy-paste the status because I feel like that would be a privacy violation, but the gist of it was that a Muslim brother said he thought wearing tights in public was stupid because it's like being naked while wearing clothes - sure youre covered, but does it matter if the world can still see the shape of your body?

I was very surprised to see that the comments, from other Muslims were bashing the original poster, saying he had no right to judge, etc etc. When the Muslim women replied, it was blatantly obvious that they were offended by this status, and went on to defend themselves.

Here's where I got thinking - why are the Muslim women so offended?

ok, I understand no one has the right to judge another (although the fact of the matter is, we all judge). And i admit, the wording in the status was harsh. But do I disagree with it? No.

One of the women that replied wrote on about how she prays, she fasts, etc. etc. and messages like this are very discouraging to her and all Muslim women alike. She also wrote that women should be approached with gentleness if change is wanted, and that the Muslim brother shouldn't look in the first place if it bothers him.

Being a Muslim woman myself, I have to say I disagree.

(Be warned, here comes the long tangent)

I dont know if youve noticed but if you ever say something religiously critical, whether it is directed at someone or not, the people around you will get defensive. The 'I pray, I fast, I am a Muslim' argument is quite over used. What i dont understand is, why do people think this a defense?

People need to learn to separate personal actions from public actions and realize they are two different things, that dont necessarily stand up for the other.

You praying and fasting has nothing to do with the topic. Why? Because that is strictly between you and Allah. Whether you pray or not, no one will know unless you tell them. Whether you are fasting or not, no one will know unless you tell them (or unless you eat right in front of everyone).

But the what you wear - everyone sees that.

How you act - everyone observes that.

And you know what, everyone, Muslim or not, will judge.

And I feel like saying he shouldnt look has no validity. You have to look where youre going, and you cant help if every other woman that crosses your path is in tights. I actually feel a little better knowing there is a Muslim brother out there who, when he comes across a Muslim woman actually feel angry disappointed and concerned enough to let it bother him. I feel better knowing that he is not one of the many men who will look at a woman who displaying her body and think lustful thoughts, however briefly. Thank you for caring? (Indeed).

I think, if you are old enough that you can choose your religion, you are old enough to realize you need to follow the religion properly.

If you are a hijabi, and youre out with your head covered but with your body and legs still showing because youre dressing inappropriately and your clothes are too tight, well then I have to ask - what are you doing?

If youre a Muslima, and you have made the decision to represent your religion to the world, for the love of Allah do it right!

-Back to the status-

Like I said, I quite agree with the status. I read the replies, and I thought they were overly defensive. That just tells me that you know you need to change, but you dont want to accept it and feel upset that someone is pointing out a blatant wrong in a harsh manner. (Mind you this was a general status, not directed at one particular person).

Sure, there are nicer ways of putting things. But from my experiences, there's a limit to how nicely you can explain things to adults. Children, growing teens, yes they need kindness.

But if youre an adult, learn to take general criticism and turn it into something positive - a tool that you can use to make yourself better. Instead of defending yourself for the wrong reason.

Honestly, how are you going to be a proud Muslim woman and then defend wearing skin tight clothes?

If youre wrong, youre wrong. Dont defend your wrong (what!). Admit it, and try to grow from and out of it.

Now! I cant just preach to the choir and pretend I'm just all-righteous and perfect (Allah knows I'm not by a long shot) And it would be hypocritical of me to reprimand without setting an example, right?

So now I'm going to take my own advice - give a personal confession and take my own personal steps toward a resolution.

Confession: I curse like a sailor! It's a very, very bad habit.

Resolution: I will control my anger, and I will hold my tongue. If I feel a curse word bubbling, I will make an effort to replace it with a Bismillah/Subhanallah.

Inshallah

My my, what I wouldn't give to be Batgirl + Recipe# 2

Yes Batgirl. Not Supergirl. I don't want to be some goddess-like super hero who has decided to 'humble' myself and do good for an indecisive society.

But Batgirl, hell yeah.

Intelligent, fit, mysterious but approachable - Batgirl kicks butt.

I would give anything to be Batgirl-like. Can't you just imagine it - getting all my readings done for all my classes *even the ones I despise*; being able to do good without drawing so much attention; coming up with brilliant stories and articles in the time it takes me to mentally prepare for them now; so, so much more.

Amazing.

If I could be Batgirl, like I said before, I would kick butt.

But alas, here I am, regular Sobia. Dumbfounded that the day has passed on so quickly, and I've done so little in the time that passed. Crazy.

There is definitely something simple I am excited about though, and as silly as it sounds, I'm going to share it here:

I made my own trail mix.

That's right, my own trail mix. And I am very proud and excited.

It sounds like a small accomplishment, and it is. But I feel like we take time out to acknowledge useless things all the time, so now I'm taking time out to acknowledge one of those little things that just makes me plain happy =)

Anyhow, so I read a blog in the summer about people making their own trail mixes and I thought to myself 'Boy, I'd really like to try making a trail mix of my own tonight!'

But I just never got around to it for so many various reasons, as usual.

But today, I looked into our pantry, and the light bulb above my head went 'Bing!'

So I sat down and compiled all this together (Recipe# 2):

A handful of dried papaya chunks

A handful of sweet dates, not too sticky

2 Chips Ahoy chocolate chunk and white chocolate cookies

A bit more than a handful of namak para *brown people snack - it's basically lightly salted dough, thinly rolled out, cut into diamond shapes and fried*

A decent sprinkling of coconut flakes

4 dried figs

I cut up the fruits into smaller pieces, broke the namak para and cookies in to pieces, and the coconut flakes and tossed it all into a bowl.

It's sweet and salty, and slightly chocolaty, and not bad at all!

Of course, even when I resisted I couldn't help but add at least a little of my brownness to the mix with the dates and namak para. But it all makes for an interesting taste.

Try this mix, or make your own trail mix. It's definitely a lot of fun.

Funny, now that I think about it, but if I was Batgirl, I probably wouldn't have had time to make this awesome trail mix.

Good to have little moments that help you appreciate what you have =)