My better half

In the battle of life acquire the nature of steel

In the Love's bed-chamber become soft like silk

Truer words were never spoken. I am taking Iqbal’s sage advice to heart. Most of the previous posts have been hard hitting exposes. To tell you the truth it gets a bit exhaustive to constantly rant and rave about the injustices in the world. Besides I have more pressing concerns, like surviving on my own for the first time in my life. This is a major change for me. My parents provided a very sheltered environment and even in my mid twenties my dad would always emphasize getting a masters degree over working. “You have your whole life for working.”

After his tragic death I had to come to grips with my new reality. I was now on my own. What’s more I had a family to take care of. I knew I would make it. I had and do have confidence in my education and I am constantly gaining more experience but it still feels unnerving. I never did get a job in corporate America as I had imagined (but I haven’t given up still at it), thankfully my family took me in and I am doing fine within the family business.

Through these trying times my greatest comfort was my wife. Over the great distances her words would reach me and touch my heart. She has helped me get over deep emotional pains, which will make me forever in her debt. Next month we will celebrate our one year wedding anniversary. It was one year ago in the company of friends and family we declared our love and commitment to each other. I haven’t shared pictures from that event with my readers. I found them too precious to cast upon the cruel cold world. But over the past year we have grown closer and have created some very private and beautiful memories. It is now that I feel ready to introduce you to my better half.

This is us at our nikkah reception. Earlier in the day I had signed our marriage contract at the local mosque. We had all gathered for asr. After prayers the imam made an announcement that the masjid would play host to a nikkah ceremony and that whoever from the congregation would like to stay and witness the sacred event may do so. My friends and family were in attendance as imam saab went over the contract explaining each part to me and asking if I accept this marriage. I had to repeat twice that I did indeed accept this marriage. MW’s (my wife) brothers were witnesses along with my dad and uncle and so with a final stroke of the pen the marriage was official. Of course in her excitement MW had signed the contract the night before!

While I am at it I want to share another picture of another event. Long time readers may recall my two day engagement ceremony (days 1&2). What they might not recall is how the love of my life looked on that day. I can testify that she looked extremely stunning:

It makes me absolutely giddy thinking of her, something I indulge in everyday. But let me tell you there is nothing like the real thing. Right now an entire ocean and two continents separate us. We want to make our life in the United States. For that to happen she needs to immigrate here. I am making this happen by becoming her sponsor. Our petition has already been filed with the state department progress is slow but steady. So far there haven’t been any setbacks something I am thankful for everyday. It is only a matter of time before my government gives her the green light.

Until that happens we eagerly prepare for our wedding reception. Each family is making preparations. Jewelry is being bought, fancy dresses are being selected, and venues are being pondered. It is sure to be a star studded three day event. The first day is the mehndi that’s when the bride to be has a pow wow with her friends. Songs are sung and henna is liberally applied. The groom has something like that called ubton but that is for more liberal households. The second day is the barath. The bride’s family plays host. When the guests are seated I am to arrive with my entourage. I’ll mingle with the guests and then be taken over to sit next to the bride. Photos will be taken and dinner will be served. The guests will congratulate us and then slowly file out. At this time the bride must say goodbye to her family as she is now leaving her father’s home. It’s a very emotional time and it is very hard to find a dry eye. It’s all part of the journey we call life.

The third and final day is the valima. This is hosted by the groom’s family. I will sorely miss the presence of my dad at this event. I am sure he would put together a mile long guest list inviting all his friends from his student leader days. We are on good terms with some of them so we will be sure to invite them. Of course I have my own friends as well so I’ll be inviting whoever I can. The special thing about this day is that this is the first time the bride and groom are presented as a couple. We are the host and hostess for the evening and we cater to our guest the best we can. By the grace of God it will be a splendid time and I will be sure to have pictures from the festivities for you, my dear readers.

Till then I bid you farewell.

My Name is Islam...

I keep my mouth shut. I really do. 99.99% of the time I keep my mouth shut. When I hear the media blasting Islam and Muslims, I keep my mouth shut. When I hear pundits spinning events to make oppressed people appear as the oppressors, I keep my mouth shut. When I hear people talking in Islamophobic overtones, I keep my mouth shut. When I hear shock jocks creating fictitious pictures of how Muslims "really" are, I keep my mouth shut. What I do is pray within my heart that these people will see the light.

However we all know that is a weak response. At times you have to speak up. I hit an impasse when I read this post. I could not sit back and allow this mockery of human decency to continue. I had to say something less I lost my mind. As you read the comments you will see that despite my rational and valid points, (points that have to be acknowledged as ground realities if the US wishes to create effective policies in Iraq) I was rudely insulted (what a way to win hearts and minds). Apparently highlighting the truth is not in vogue. Also despite my repeated claims about being for Humanity and America, about being non-violent, about being moderate I was called a Taliban sympathizer. Furthermore I was dangerously accused of being in the Terrorist's camp and an Islamist Radical who could potentially do damage.

If voicing your opinion gets you in that kind of trouble then we are doomed ladies and gentlemen we are doomed. When we deny our citizens their right to freedom of speech then we are doomed. When freedom of speech equates to bad mouthing a religious figure and not criticizing the war effort then we are doomed. As we slowly hand over our rights claiming oh its for our security. Or oh they are only taking the "Moslems" away or oh they are only taking the hippies away. Or oh they are only taking the Liberals away. Pretty soon you will find that you have no rights and are living in a police state.

I highly doubt any one would take the accusations made seriously. I do believe they were made as a bullying tactic to keep me on the defensive. But one thing is clear the ugly response that I got was a case of sealed hearts and deaf ears being impervious to the pleas of the oppressed. I knew this to be true and wasn't going to speak on the matter but then a friend of mine sent me an article which I really liked. The issues raised rang true for me. I just had to have it on the blog! So without further ado I give you Dr. Islam...

"Let there arise out of you a band of people inviting to all that is good enjoining what is right and forbidding what is wrong; they are the ones to attain felicity". (Surah Al-Imran,ayat- 104)

"The world is a dangerous place, not because of those who do evil, but because of those who look on and do nothing."-- Albert Einstein

My name is Islam —Mahjabeen Islam

It seems to me that the American vision will be forever jaundiced and my regular self will be painted and attired and then sneered and shouted at. And worse yet, my Pakistan has no place for me

Mine is a name that causes virtual whiplashes. I can hear them say “Dr Islam? Are you kidding me?!” The sophisticated ones bite their tongues; the bold ones, when I introduce myself, extend their hand and say, “Then I am Dr Christian!”

One would have expected tolerance and interfaith harmony to have plummeted post-9/11, with gradual improvement thereafter. But the tincture of time is not working here, quite the opposite; catalysed by the Great Recession, emotions are a-simmer and thin veneers fall fast.

I have partially borrowed the title of this article from the Bollywood production ‘My name is Khan’ in which megastar Shahrukh Khan does a terrific representation of Asperger’s syndrome. The refrain in the film is ‘My name is Khan and I am not a terrorist’ and not only is Asperger’s syndrome detailed accurately in the film, it successfully addresses issues such as home-grown terrorism and the steadily escalating antipathy toward anyone remotely resembling a Muslim.

And it resonated with me. For now, on an almost a daily basis, there is thinly veiled contempt, a poke or a jibe. Time was, even after 9/11, that people were pleasantly surprised that I was a Muslim. Expecting horns on my head, flowing robes or at least a headscarf, I know I evoked surprise for being so boringly average. But now I seem to be responsible for the Iraq fiasco, the Afghanistan invasion and of course the shooting at Fort Hood — to name only a few American and Muslim misadventures.

A 70-year old elderly white female, a patient of mine for the last 20 years, while checking out after her visit and planning her next appointment, wags her finger (I was standing right next to her) and says, “No fighting, no fighting, you stay in your country and I will stay in mine.” I know that somewhere along the genealogy line I am linked to Job. Not a word did I breathe; not for paucity of thought or fury.

How many people do I advertise to that I have lived in the US longer than my native Pakistan? What will it take to convince non-Muslim Americans that I do not spend my evenings and weekends participating in hot domestic-terrorism meetings? How many columns and events does it take to repeat that terrorism is roundly condemned by Islam, both the religion and little me?

Perhaps my patient has some room for misgivings — at least in her mind. Even before 9/11 I used to have copies of the Quran in my waiting room. After all, I figured if the Gideons can place Bibles in every hotel room, I certainly should try to enlighten with the message of the Quran. And of course after 9/11 it became required reading. Many Muslims and marketing gurus would consider it near-suicidal to have Islamic literature in a medical-office waiting room. And yet in my naïve activism-cum- spirituality I have this “He will provide for all living things” theory that perpetuates my risk-taking behaviours.

“I went to Vegas and noticed at the airports that there are not that many Arabs wearing Arabic clothes anymore, have you noticed?” asked my 76 year old black patient. I had not noticed, I said, there is a profusion in the mall when I go. “In the mall, but not at the airports!” he bellowed. “I guess they do not want to get arrested,” I tried to explain, illustrating with the imams that had gotten arrested for praying at Minneapolis airport. “So you are trying to shirk your religious duty because you are afraid?” his tone got strident, almost mocking. Well no, a group of South Asian and Arab-appearing men were arrested for praying in a Las Vegas parking lot with police radios saying that “objects were kissing the ground”. So damned if you pray and damned if you do not! Instead of healing I was, yet again, the defence attorney for all the Muslims of the world.

The other very favourite phrase is “why do you not go back to where you came from?” I have not been told that to my face, not yet, in any case, but many Muslims have. To think that all that come to the US come for the American dream is nothing short of arrogant delusion. I for one came for post-graduate training and while I was tentative about staying or returning to Pakistan, years passed and I had dropped roots. Returning to my native Pakistan because the going got a little tough is unfortunately impracticable with American-born children.

And if roots were still pulled, what do physicians face in Pakistan? Especially the straight-laced, honest types, unaware of which palms to grease or what strings to pull — harassment, kidnapping or penury?

And who gets to measure my patriotism and decide that it is deficient? I live in a ritzy Republican neighbourhood; my contemporary home stands out among the wan and conservative beiges and browns. And if that and the intermittent string of brown guests were not bad enough, I was audacious to have been the sole supporter of Obama in the subdivision. The day that I took my yard sign out, my neighbour across the street glared so hard that if looks could kill, the sign and I would have evaporated. He ignored my cheery hello and responded with two McCain-Palin signs and American flags in every square inch of the yard it seemed. And only three days later, the Obama sign was crumpled and flattened — not something I could have relegated to the reckless wind.

I know that I put the casual observer’s brain a bit on overdrive. The English is accented but understandable, the persona regular but the name, oh the name! It seems to me though that the American vision will be forever jaundiced and my regular self will be painted and attired and then sneered and shouted at. And worse yet, my Pakistan has no place for me. Not alive in any case.

Mahjabeen Islam is a family physician, addictionist and freelance columnist with a practice in Toledo, Ohio. She can be reached at mahjabeen dot islam at gmail dot com

This article appeared in the Daily Times.

UPDATE: I just finished watching Green Zone with Matt Damon (man is this guy good, he's been in a lot of great movies). I give this movie five out five stars. Excellent screenplay, superb acting by co-stars and stars alike and most importantly an accurate portrayal of what went down in Baghdad. Shunning the usual middle eastern flicks where the enemy is caricatured into a one dimensional villain. Whose only purpose is to enact violence against the blue eyed blond haired good guy. Who must take out the crazy pants psycho with extreme prejudice.

Rather the producers went with a much more realistic approach. Accurately portraying the Iraqi people as complex and 3 dimensional individuals. Who are not monoliths and have their own viewpoints and Ideas on who to side with. Ultimately they are all trying to come to grips with what is happening to their country. Also I like how American Soldiers are also given many layers. There are some who just want to follow orders and finish up their tour so that they can go back home. There are others who are restless and want to know more. We are taken into the secret world of espionage and cover ups. Based on what we find "Political thriller" sells it short.

Perhaps what I like the most is that half of what I argued on the post in question was confirmed. A systematic campaign to subjugate the Iraqi population was afoot (Abu Ghraib, disbanding the Iraqi Army rather than working with them and the general heavy handed approach when it came to grunts dealing with the local population). Intelligence provided to the US military was falsified, a betrayal of the highest order. These documents came from the highest parts of the chain of command. There is a part in the movie where the star is told not to be naive. I had to punch the air in excitement. That is exactly what I had said in my comments. Also I was nursing the notion that "brother" had become the new "comrade". I credit savvy script writing and well placed subtitles with confirming my notion. Finally the disconnect between the Green Zone and the Iraqi people was also highlighted in the movie. But that was something that we didn't contest on the post. All in all a very "unAmerican" portrayal of the war in Iraq. And for this I salute you.

Ode to Dad

Last Monday was my Dad's birthday. Had he been alive he would have turned sixty. There is so much emotion inside of me that I can not put it into words. His absence is deeply felt. I wonder what advice he would give me as I embark on my new life. Even though I am a grown man he could never see me as such. He would say that I knew you ever since you were in your mother's womb. And watched you fumble as a baby, make mistakes as a child, lash out as a teen. Is it any wonder why, after you have matured can I only find faults to fix? So true Abu I will only understand when I have kids of my own.

To honor my Dad I am reprinting a poem from one of his favorite poets. I get my literary appreciation from him. A book of Urdu Poems from Allama Iqbal always stood adorned on his bookshelf. The poet's inspiration was the Quran, the teachings of the prophet and the plight of the Muslim Ummah. He was instrumental in inspiring the masses to rise up against oppression and fight for their freedom. In the end his words helped find the nation of Pakistan. Aside from this I new very little about his poetry until a friend introduced me to a compelling piece. Although translated from the original Urdu its prose are still moving.

Talu-e-Islam

The fading glitter of stars is the signal of a bright dawn
The sun has risen from the horizon, the time of deep stupor is gone!

Life-blood has started flowing through the dead arteries of the East
This secret is incomprehensible to Sina and Farabi !

The storm of the West has made the Muslim into a real Muslim
Only the upheavals of the sea bring the pearl's beauty to its perfection

The Muslim is to be endowed again from the God's Court with
Turkoman's dignity, Indian's intellect, Arab's eloquence

If some slumber is lurking still in the flower buds
Strike the beat harder if the taste for music is lacking

Jump restlessly in the garden, in the nest, in bowers
It is impossible to deprive mercury of its restlessness

Why should the eye used to chaste things see coat of arms
When it is able to see the valor of the Ghazi's soul!

O God, light the candle of Longing in the tulip's heart
Make every speck of garden's dust a martyr searching for the Truth

The effect of spring showers exists in the Muslim's tears
Pearls are to be produced again in the ocean of Ibrahim

The Book of the Muslim nation is being organized again
This Hashimite Branch is going to blossom again!

The beloved of Shiraz has won the hearts of Tabriz and Kabul
The zephyr produces its fellow traveler from rose fragrance!

The avalanche of calamity over Uthmanis is not to be bereaved
As the dawn is produced after destruction of myriad's of stars!

Insight into the world is more difficult than the world's sovereignty
Insight is produced only when the heart melts into blood!

For thousands of years narcissus bemoans its lack of luster
The discerning person is produced in the garden with difficulty

Sing O Nightingale so that with your modulations
The falcon's heart in the pigeon's frail body be produced

Concealed within your heart is the secret of life
Relate to the Muslim the traditions of pathos of life

You are the potent hand and the word of the Eternal God
O imprudent one! Develop Faith as you have been overcome with doubts

The Muslim's destination is beyond the azure colored sky
You are the caravan the dust of whose trail are stars!

The house is ephemeral, the dweller is momentary, yours are the Beginning and the End
You are the Final Message of God and you are eternal!

Your life-blood adorns with myrtle the bride called tulip
Your origin is from Ibrahim, you are the world's architect!

Your nature is the custodian of all life's possibilities
So to say you are the touch-stone for world's hidden jewels!

From the material world to the Eternal world
You are the gift which the Holy Prophet took!

The history of the Muslim nation reveals the secret
That you are the protector of the nations of Asia

Learn again the lesson of Truth, Justice, and Bravery
You are to be entrusted with the world's leadership!

This alone is the creation's objective, this alone is Islam's secret
That there should be universal brotherhood, abundant love!

Breaking the idols of race and color merge into the millat
There should be neither Turanian, nor Iranian, nor Afghanian!

How long the companionship of garden's birds inside the garden's confines?
Your wings are capable of the flight of Quhistan's falcon!

In the world of existence full of doubts, the Muslim's Faith
Is like a beacon of light in the dark night of the wilderness

What could demolish the grandeur of Qaiaer and Kisra?
Nothing but Haider's prowess, Bu Dhar's faqr, Salman's truth

With what dignity did the free men of the millat march out?
The centuries-old prisoners are only watching the spectacle through door's crevices!

Stability of life in this world is bestowed by firm Faith
The Turanian has proved even longer lasting than the German

When Faith is created in this earthly ember
It itself creates wings and plumage of Jibril!

Neither swords nor plans are of any avail in slavery
Chains are cast away when taste for Faith is created

Can anyone assess the strength of his arms?
Destinies are changed by the Believer's mere glance!

Sainthood, sovereignty, the universality of material knowledge
What are all these except unraveling of the secrets of Faith!

It is however difficult to develop Ibrahim's vision
Greed creates subconscious images stealthily in the vision!

The ruled and ruler's discrimination is the bane of humanity
Beware, O oppressors the punishments of God for this are severe!

The essence of everything is the same, be it of dust or light
Sun's blood would drip by cutting the core of dust's speck

Firm Faith, constant struggle, Love, conquest of the universe
These are the swords for the brave men in the battle of life

What is expected from the brave? High disposition, sincere creed
Warm heart, immaculate vision and restless soul!

Those who had attacked like eagle emerged as wingless
The evening stars after diving into dusk's blood emerged shining!

Those accustomed to swimming under the sea were buried under the sea
Those who bored ocean waves dashes emerged as pearls!

Those who were proud of alchemy are like the way side dust
Those who humbly prostrated before God emerged as elixir makers!

Our slow-moving messenger has brought the message of life
Those who got electric messages emerged as uninformed!

The Haram has been disgraced by the priests short-sight
With what excellent insight the Tatar youth have come out!

Angels, the denizens of celestial world, were saying to the earth
These earthly men emerged more lively, more virulent, more splendid!

The men of Faith live in the world like the sun
Set here, come out there, set there, come out here!

The individual's Faith is the means of national renaissance
This is the force which shapes the nation's destiny!

You are the secret of Kun Fikon, be manifest to yourself
Become the knower of the secret of Khudi, become interpreter of God

Human greed has torn the human race into pieces
Be the declaration of fraternity, become the language of Love

This is Indian, that Khurasanian, this Afghanian, that Turanian is
O you disgraced by nationalism, jump out and become boundless

Your wings and plumage are polluted with race and color's dust
O Haram's bird flutter your wings before you become ready for flight

O imprudent one! Dive in Khudi , this is the secret of life
Relinquishing the narrow confines of time become eternal

In the battle of life acquire the nature of steel
In the Love's bed-chamber become soft like silk

Transcend mountains and deserts like a furious flood
If there be a garden in your path, become a melodious brook

The bounds of your Knowledge and Love are none
Melody sweeter than you in the Divine orchestra is none!

Humanity is still the helpless prey to imperialism
Outrageous that Man is the hunter of the human race!

The glitter of modern civilization dazzles the eye
But this is the luster of unreal jewels only!

The science which was the pride of the West's sages
Is the battle-sword in the blood-stained clutches of greed!

The magic of prudence cannot make stable
The civilization which is based on capitalism

Dynamism establishes life; bestows heaven as well as hell
This earthly creature in its nature is neither angelic nor infernal

Partake the nightingale's clamor, open the flower bud
As your person is the spring breeze for this garden

The spark of Love has again risen from the Asia's heart
The world is the parading ground of the satin-clad Tatars

Come, a purchaser has appeared for this frail soul
After a long time a caravan has arrived at our place

Come, O cup-bearer, the sad bird's music is coming from the bower
Spring has come, the beloved has come, as the beloved has come tranquillity has come!

The spring cloud has established its camp up hill and down dale
The sound of waterfalls from the mountain tops has come!

I have surrendered my life to you, O cup-bearer, you should also sing the future's songs
Because in rows after rows groups of singing birds have come!

Withdraw from the ascetics and fearlessly draw the wine cup
After long nightingale's song from this old branch has come!

Narrate to Lovers the traditions of Badr and Hunain's Master 35
His hidden meanings clear to my eyes have become!

The other branch of Khalil is greening up with our blood
In Love's market-place our currency full value has become

I am sprinkling tulip petals at the martyr's grave
As his blood favorable to our nation's sapling has become!

Come, so that we may sprinkle flowers and pour wine in cup
Rend asunder the sky's roof and establish a new foundation

UPDATE: Found a video in which a portion of this poem is being recited. Thought I add it to increase the blog's multimedianess

My father was an influential man, friendships forged during his time as a student leader continued on into adulthood and old age. Sacrifices he made for the sake of promoting the true message of Islam are countless. Upon hearing of his death there was an outpouring of grief in his native Pakistan. Hundreds attended his funeral prayers and many more prayed for his salvation.
It was an honor recieving a letter of condolence from his long time friend, now an Amir of a reformist political party. It is recreated here for the sake of prosterity;

In it he addresses me, expressing his shock at hearing my father's death. He offers a prayer for his salvation, relates a hadith. He instructs how children should continously offer prayers for their deceased parents in the hopes of God bestowing on them the gift of Paradise. He then goes on and says he plans on visiting my mother's house next time he is in Karachi (he did). And concludes by praying for my wellbeing. For that I thank him.

I too strive to live up to my father's example. Using God given abilities I try to bring the message of Islam to anyone who wishes to hear it. My work, my time online is all geared towards this. I've introduced a new Label dubbed "SadiSoft" all news worthy items related to my publishing label will be categorized as such. Again I hope I can be a source of enlightment, a beacon in troubled waters. I pray that I am worthy of God's pleasure and that my father is forgiven his sins so that he may enter paradise. Ameen.

Panhandling

As you may know I have started my own publishing label. I've got some keen intellectual property that I want to share with the world. It's a way for me to do dawah and earn some sawab. But as you know spiritual pursuits must be balanced with the realities of the world. In order to continue my work I need for readers to spread the word.

Over the Memorial Day weekend (how was yours by the way) I was tinkering around with my site (Scroll down to the "SadiSoft" logo to go to the site). I made some changes, I got rid of some crazy pants rants I had on it and tried to tone down my schpeel. All in an effort to make the site that more enjoyable to visit. I am hoping visitors enjoy themselves so much they might choose to make a financial contribution to help support my work. Just look for the donate button on the bottom of each page.

The work I do there is mostly to keep me sane. It's my way of expressing myself and commenting on all the craziness that's going on in the world. It helps me to make some kind of sense out of an all too often senseless world. I am expanding my efforts from more than just storytelling I am trying to make waves in the digital entertainment arena as well. A game based on the characters I created is in the works. But I need your help so please chip in it's for a good cause.

UPDATE: After seeing no one chip in after I so nicely asked for some money. I decided to add this button to the bottom of the page. Hopefully this will encourage my supporters to help out. Note the new look, pretty kewl, eh? I made it just for you, yes I did. Plus another hits are being celebrated with a shiny new rupee added to "the monetary hit counter". That's my trademark you hear!