Same Old

The supreme happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved - loved for ourselves, or rather, loved in spite of ourselves.

- Victor Hugo

Two Saturdays went by and even after thinking about so much I would write on the blog, I didn't update. I wasted a lot of time sleeping this week going beyond eight hours four times. On 13th I attended a function hosted by my uncle who lives in Murphy to celebrate his new-born son's Naam Rakhai and his youngest daughter's Bismillah. Most of my cousins and aunt arrived from Houston. Then it was my second cousin's marriage on 20th. I attended two grand parties - one in Hilton Anatole close to downtown Dallas and one in Embassy Suites in Carollton. Unexpectedly I had to take an off from my work today and I thought I should write.

Every time I sit for this after a gap, I wonder how my willingness to write a thing I have thought about since I updated last has faded away. There is so much always to think; so much a desire to share; but by the time it comes to putting it here everything seems pointless. The question of what difference it is going to make surfaces making me remind myself again that I write for myself and nobody else. Doing anything for myself doesn't seem so motivating though at the end there is always some kind of satisfaction but I am sure if I decide that I am going to write for somebody in particular, I would write everyday not even trying to think what motivation is.

I spoke to four friends yesterday on phone. I saw both my room mates asleep when I reached my apartment from the reception and I began to feel lonely. I called up my mother first to let her know I was back safely. My first two calls to two friends had no response. Then of course things started getting back and I spoke to three of them one after the other. It's different worlds when I talk to different people. And when there is nobody to talk it's just mine. Things don't feel so good these days. I will try to go out for some movie today with my room mate is he is free in the evening. I have to sit down with Java again. It's kind of weired these days. Alhamdulillah I am still happy.

Delayed Feed

Anything I've ever done that ultimately was worthwhile... initially scared me to death.
- Betty Bender

I don't know how I missed the alarm I had set in my phone to wake me up at 5 am. There was sunlight outside when I opened my eyes and hunger had just moved in. I took a while to think about the alarm but it's alright now - there's half more pizza to finish, I will talk to my roommate for sometime who woke up few minutes ago and get back to sleep. I have an off today and there are no plans for the day yet. It scares me not to have anything to do. I think I will call up my friend to see if he is in Plano right now. I can even go to my uncle's place in Murphy who had been asking me to visit him since long.

It feels like there is so much to and so less time. I am falling short of sleep daily and it hits my neck directly making it ache so frequently. Some times I wonder how it would be if there was nothing like sleeping - there would be one enjoyment less then! Most of the things I do always get pushed to the deadline even though I try to take care of them before time. It's good I never have the pressure of reaching my place of work at any precise time. I can take a 15 minute delay and even call up somebody who is already there and let him know if I am getting more late than that. There isn't much to wrote of course. My roommate left for his job just now and my other roommate is still awake busy with his laptop. Like me, he rarely sleeps.


Though I always wait for changes to take place even when they horrify me, I am not getting time these days to think about any changes. But I am sure I am going to look back at these days in wonder a few years from now. There are incredible things I am learning with some strange people I meet almost daily. Things also make me wonder if this is what I really came to America for and somehow the answer is positive because I am on the track to reach where I think I need to go. Things can always get some smoothening at the edges but it's not bad with little complains.

Catalog

"Independence"... is middle-class blasphemy.  We are all dependent on one another, every soul of us on earth.  

- G.B. Shaw, Pygmalion, 1912

I can't force myself to write. I opened the 'Create' page, waited for something to come to me, thought of who all might read it, had a banana, took a short walk in the living room and even stared outside the patio but nothing seems amusing enough to me to be write about. I can decide now that writing is not for me but it's too late already. That's not a reason for not writing. I have not been writing and burning down the daily urge to write because by the time I reach my apartment daily I am too tired even to eat my dinner. Today I had an off that put me into long sleep. I like spending lots of time just lying around but I had a couple of important things to finish which I had been advancing by a day for three consecutive days.

I had a sleep of almost 10 hours. I had been sleeping for less than five hours for almost a month now and when daily the back of my head and neck ache due to lack of sleep, today they were uncomfortable due to too much sleep. I had to take a short nap a while ago to set them right. I sent out a couple of e-mail and waiting for replies. The replies are not important though. It feels good to know that I am connected to a network that even connects so many other people who have important roles. Some are accessible to me while some still stay disconnected. It's the address and the permission, not the roads and means to travel on them that is important this time.

We brought home biryani and tandoori chicken for dinner when we went for grocery shopping to a desi store today. I don't like going to such stores. People always seem to be interested in what I am doing, how I am looking and what I am buying. The cashiers too are not friendly. This girl at the counter seemed a new recruit so she was polite but the other girl who works there always seems to have a question on her face: "why the heel are you here?". It's so different when I go to stores like Taget, Tomthumb or Walmart. The cashier greets, asks how I am doing and wishes me a good day when I leave. I do the same thing where I work no matter who the customer is. It's ironic to see cold behavior from South Asians especially when we boast of things like rich culture and morals. There's still lot to learn from Westerners.

This again reminds me of that half-wit I met at the Mumbai's International Airport who works for VFS Global. He asked me why I was going to the US even when he had my passport in his hands that had an F-1 visa stamped on it showing the university and the city I was going to - a visa that had been issued to me by the government of the United States of America. Perhaps this guy gets frustrated all day watching people go to this country when he can't but sit there. But that's not my problem. All enquiry that USA wanted to do had been done and they were fine with me coming to their country. This guy who was an Indian like me was questioning me and indirectly the government of America. I had to answer with respect - it was my first time.

When I reached the port of entry in Newark, the officer there greeted me, checked all the papers and said "welcome to America" with a big warm smile. He didn't belong to the country I was from, he didn't speak the language I spoke and his skin's color was a lot fairer than mine yet he was welcoming me to his country. I understand it's his job to be so good to me but so it was for that guy there in Mumbai. Mine was not an isolated case. I have heard similar experiences from more people too especially from my father's friend. He has an American passport and he was asked for his length of stay in India at New Delhi. He asked the officer to check it on the passport who in turn behaved rudely with him. My father's friend told the officer that at the most he would make him miss his flight but being an American citizen he could get his suspended from his job. Some police men had to interfere and the officer apologized.

Few days back an African American guy told me he was from New Orleans, I emphasised that I am from India and he had a smile on his face in appreciation. We are respected here like how Americans are respected. There is no second rate treatment. I have met people from from Far East, Middle East, Africa, Europe and South America and never for even a single moment did I feel that I was being seen with less respect. It's people of my own country in particular and people from South Asia who do that. No doubt I have met some wonderful people from my country, Pakistan and Bangladesh who have been too good to me, but there is more pity than good with others. We Indians are intelligent, educated and faster than many people here. We are the ones for whom finishing basic schooling is of little significance. I know myself - I never felt great that I am an engineer. Americans here look at me as if I have walked on the moon before reaching here.

When children reach an age of 19, they say "I am 19 and I can take care of myself". A driving license is what that differentiates between boys and men. I don't even remember when I crossed 19. It was so insignificant for me. I remember when I got my driving license in India - it felt good but not great. Here - I felt more good because I needed it badly and I had turned 22 just a month before that; there was no excitement. As a bottom line, I have learned to live with both of these. I appreciate a few qualities and like some other things. It's good to know how to react to each of these. I intend to be good and celebrate every day and appreciate every people. Our lives are too short to complain. But it's fun to make fun at times! It's also good to know who we can trust. 9,000 miles from home, I still feel I am enjoying. Alhamdulillah.

Three Forty One A M

Growing up happens in a heartbeat. One day you're in diapers, the next day you're gone. But the memories of childhood stay with you for the long haul. I remember a place, a town, a house like a lot of other houses, a yard like a lot of other yards, on a street like a lot of other streets. And the thing is, after all these years, I still look back, with wonder.

- The Wonder Years

I lay myself on the floor wondering how different it is now and woke up suddenly to the sound of the main door opening. I had fell asleep and my room mate who was out to attend a party had returned. I had called him a while before that just after returning from work and he had informed me that I need not pick him up and he has found a ride. The first thing I look for every night as I enter the parking lot is my room mate's car - my friend who left us two days back. It wasn't there today because he is in Chicago now. I spoke to him finally and he said he has reached there safely alhamdulillah. It was 12:50 am when I reached home today.

I don't like entering a home which has nobody in it and no lights turned on. My other room mate was already asleep as expected. He has to get up early daily to go to office. As a thought that came to my mind some minutes back, I guess I have begun to bore others now. Some days back one of my co-workers said I was talking less and today I was in fact talking less. I can't help it. I just don't find things to talk about anymore so easily. Or perhaps it's just a passing thing. It's all good as long as I don't bore myself. I never get bored. I can sit at one place for hours waiting for or listening to anybody. Alhamdulillah.

I spent a big part of my return journey today thinking how good it would have been if I didn't have to take favors from others. I spent a part thinking about why I can't be more good. I remember my father asking me every few days, when I was going to become a good boy. That was of course until a few years back when I finally grew up enough not to be asked such a thing. But most of the times my father had asked me that I would ask him if I was not good already. He always said I was but that I needed to be much better. It was never a serious talk though - it hurts me now somehow. Failing others hurts more than failing oneself.

I went to a mall in the morning looking for a gift for a friend back in India. I spent a lot of time there looking for the right thing but it didn't help much. I had something in mind already but soon realized it was not possible for me to make that as a gift. I need to think more now and find something else. It's going to get even more late now. My father's friend is going to leave for India next week. I have to send it through him or wait for him to come back by the end of June when he is going to stay here for a couple of weeks and go back again. Anyways someday inshAllah I will have my gift delivered. There is still so much left to give and return to so many people. I am afraid.

Last Monday I went to downtown Dallas and later to a place called Main Even nearby to have some fun with bowling. It was a long day and between these two outings I even had to go to Irving. Perhaps that day I travelled about a 100 miles and yet I was in the same place. Whenever I went to the outskirts of Hyderabad I used to hear somebody say how wonderful it would be to have our home built in a place like this. Texas is a place like that. All cities are so spread out that except for downtown everything else appears to be a suburb. No other place in the world has freeways like Texas has. It boasts luxury, serenity and low cost of living. That also  makes Dallas stay on the second spot on the 'cities with highest crime' list. It was at the top until last month. It's San Antonio now.

Still Waiting

That first week of high school, as I watched our class band together. I realized something about these strangers I'd just met. Strangers I hardly knew. Strangers who were just like me. We were all sharing the same feelings. The same fears, the same loneliness. We were just starting out, and there was only one direction to go. So we went - together.

- The Wonder Years

It was 12:25 am Sunday when I entered the freeway to return home and the traffic started slowing down. That's pretty unusual at that time of day. Soon I came to a dead halt and remained for more than 30 minutes. First few minutes I spent getting entertainment from the radio I had already turned on. Then I called up two of my friends in India only to come to know they were not available to receive my call. I am not sure if I did connect to their phones or not. My mother called me up and I told her I was far from my apartment and didn't know how much more time it was going to take for the traffic to clear. At 12:30 am that day I was between at least a few thousand cars most of them coming from downtown heading north.

I had no complains as I stared at the red tail lamp of the car in front of me. Instead of keeping a minimum of one-car-distance, two-feet-distance had become the standard. I thought of calling few more people and some calculations told me it's perhaps distance I need to appreciate. I stared at the red lamp thinking how different we all need to be, how it is not necessary that we explain everything to everybody, how we need to respect boundaries and how everything can't be stopped or started at our will. That night I reached my apartment 40 minutes late than usual with no complains in my heart praying for pleasantness everywhere. About 10 days back too I had spent an hour each in a similar but slow-moving traffic on the same freeways.

One of my roommate-friends is leaving for Chicago in a few hours from now. He met me while I was on a long journey hoping it ended sooner, brought loads of fun and happiness into the loneliness, made me know everything about him, came to know everything about me and is leaving this place leaving me on the same journey. He is definitely going to come back inshAllah but even he doesn't know when. I hope and pray he finds success in what he is trying to do. I would never take a risk of the size he is taking but I appreciate his courage. I have learnt a lot from him. From an elder respectable person he was to me some months back, he became one of my closest buddies here. Age doesn't matter more to me when making friends alhamdulillah.

In a world that had become so big for me suddenly, there have been wonderful people close enough to make that world all familiar. Clearly, people who have travelled more and have been to many places have lots to teach and volumes of maturity to share. I don't think it's real possible for any normal person to grow staying in a single place. Though I didn't go to many places, I have some people who have done a lot of that and are always there willing to make a difference to my life. When I go to some new place here in Dallas, I don't feel like an alien anymore. I feel how I used to feel back in Hyderabad to the extent the place is concerned. When it comes to people, it's a different story. The downward curve on my lips occurs not because I am far from them, but because of something else. I was just tired of always being the only one wanting to talk.

Lots of times I have been asked about my grades as the semester ended. It was good to see concerns but somehow I felt there were more important things to be spoken now that the semester was over. Of course one would complain that when I am here for studies, grades should matter more than anything else. It's simple: I am here to take life forward. I am going to stay here for many years even after my studies are done with. Planning for that is more important. But for sure, nobody who has seen things here would understand what I mean and what it is that I mean. For the record, I scored a C, a B+ and an A making the GPA for Spring semester 3.11 and bringing my overall to 3.22. A few of us roughed up with a professor to receive a C. It's alright; for me.

It shows in black and while when a person we are talking to is interested in our talk or not. It's shows in black and white when somebody shows more concern and interest or tries to give a cold shoulder. These might happen involuntarily but a few actions are supposed to be done to keep relationships no matter what the intention is. Faith is belief in action. I just can't keep calling somebody my friend doing nothing else; being nothing like a friend. At times it's good to have things moving fast but I know I am not liking it. What's the difference. No questions when answers are already there.

When the day breaks I won't have this friend with me around if the weather gets clear. He is just one more who is leaving. I remember that day I stood at the sidewalk of Eat Street in Hyderabad watching a friend leave. I could have stayed there for few more hours watching. Things are very different now; not at all like how I thought they would be standing there that day. I know I can look at the the calendar, put some efforts and gather the exact date and time of that occasion but it has no point. I feel like turning my face away from my computer. That's not the end of course. Alhamdulillah. There are going to be new people, new bondings and more people leaving.

Yes, Waiting

When you're thirteen, it's a long way to Albuquerque. Teri told me about getting her learner's permit, and taking her first drive with a stick-shift. She wrote of our night at the beach. She told me she missed me so much that she cried herself to sleep at night. And she promised to write to me, until we saw each other again. I keep that letter in an old shoebox. It was the only letter she ever wrote me.

- The Wonder Years

I am writing today just to push the previous post down to second on this page. I don't mind having such reasons as long as I am writing for myself even if it's termed as being illogical, aggressive or anything. I had even considered making the whole blog protected again but then I knew I would make it open very soon and I would also have to invite people just to keep them as my friends - it would get all messy then. At a time when most of what I do and think goes unrecorded, it's not a bit easy to write posts like these with a reason so bland. It can be called that too. It's necessary because i don't know when I am going to write next. I am worried about people at times.

My semester ended that I received my grade in just one course. Alhamdulillah I am happy I could do well in it given that I was among the only 3 students in the class who had no professional working experience to take up a course like Software Project Planning and Management. I was asked by many how I feel that my semester is not over and I am done with half my masters. I don't feel any different. It's just like there were some very important things going on and one of them just took a three month vacation. It's going to be back again to join the rest of the very important things. I can't help if I am supposed to feel any special good and party that my semester is over.

Until a while back I was talking to a friend and told her how three of our other friends seem to have changed. We think they are busy these days and that they have picked up new directions. I appreciate everybody and complain about nobody. I secretly wished we could be the same in spite of all those changes we have opted for. It mostly depends on what we want and how we want things to be. So frequently I think of not going back to some people but it hurts to think they have been so important to me and I guess even continue to be even now. I am not sure if it is I who takes things wrong or if it is they who disappoint me. Either ways, I hope no matter how much they change they remember their friends.

Jeopardy

Love is never simple. Not for fathers and sons. We spend our lives full of hope and expectations. And most of the time we are bound to fail. But that afternoon as I watched my father sheltering his son against a future that was so unsure, all I knew was they didn’t want to let each other down anymore.

- The Wonder Years

I just had perhaps what was the most difficult conversation I ever had with my father or with anybody else. He called me up when I least expected and he was clear with his sole intention of making me speak up. I guess if I had to tell him the same thing just four months back it wouldn't have been so difficult for me. I knew already what he would think of as a reason for my changed behavior lately; I just had to tell him it was not that. I told him I would write him an e-mail after a few days thinking I could take some time, think peacefully and put things in the right words. But he wanted to hear it there itself. There were many seconds spent between him and me on the phone with no words said at all that looked like endless moments. I had to tell him. My heart's still beating fast with a fear of what could happen next.

A few months back things were different. I could say it to my parents so many times all by myself even without being asked so seriously. Things all changed. That's what I have always liked. Even the fear I have now welcomes one. But it's all so uncertain; it's like not waiting for things to come to me but running to them trying to grab them ahead of time still keeping in mind the uncertainty of it's correctness. I know it's correct and in perfect accordance to Islam inherently to what Allah wants from us. It's the time I live in that doesn't easily support this hurry. It's a wait I cannot wait but get frustrated.

I had to write today on my blog so that when I write or talk to my father again I don't end up reacting but give a responsible response to what he expects from me now. I am sure not even one out of 10 people get to have a father like I have. The way I told him this thing after going through so much perceived complications I had, I know it takes only a man like my him to stand up for me. The biggest gifts he gave me are himself and his trust. It's going to be another large volume if I write about my mother. Life refuses to be clean. We are not designed to take clean lives. Allah has balanced out everything perfectly. My father told me there is no problem that cannot have a solution. I agreed but said the problem is with something else - the stretch between today and the solution.

Some weeks ago a friend mocked at me making fun about me waiting. I just couldn't take it. Every time I think I am over it, it knocks me off. Perhaps if it was somebody else telling me that, it wouldn't have hit me so hard. Or maybe she just mistimed it. It's perhaps my bad that it had to bother me so much. I can't complain against anybody. I am just drawn that way. It's my compass; not the ship; not the wind's direction. Freedom is a sophisticated weapon which can work in anyways. I have relationships to fulfil, friends to keep and favors to return. I simply can't try to mould everything into how I want to see it as. I don't try that much; I never put that urge in my behavior. I instead keep it within. I wish I didn't have to take favors from people I am taking now. May Allah bless them with all happiness.

The highest paying jobs in the world are the ones that involve taking very big and very important decisions. Making the right decision is more important than even executing major plans. A simple 'yes', an intelligent smile, an indifferent face or an even a more simple 'no' can make irreversible changes. I get into this at a time when I am finally beginning to settle down with things here after spending more than eight months. I know a friend who asks me frequently "why so early?". I have a friend who says "you will end up hurting yourself". I might never have answers to give them unless I am finally through it inshAllah. Then inshAllah my answers will be in the form of love. The last word sounds so good. Alhamdulillah.

That Lame Sparrow

And for some reason, maybe the way he said it, I began to understand. He wasn't giving me an order. My dad, was asking me for help. That morning, as I stood with the man who was my father... The son of my grandfather, the man who would one day be the grandfather of my sons...I realized something. That not all gifts are simple. That some battles are fought out of love.

- Narrator, The Powers That Be [3.12], The Wonder Years

As I pulled the car into the drive way I saw two birds resembling ducks near the rear tire of a parked car on the right side. They started crossing the drive way and I had to come to a dead halt. I have never seen such birds here and I assume they were migrating to some place and stopped over for some food. Though they resembled ducks, I am half sure they were not. Their beaks were flat but short and they were smaller in size than the ducks I know. They could be ducks too but they were interesting due to their colorful feathers at the neck. They took short steady steps making me fall in love with their moves. I was waiting in the car for them to clear my way. Perhaps I would have written more about them if they had at least turned their heads towards me in appreciation of my patience. I waited for them to cross; I didn't even honk. They were rude and knew only of their way.

Frequently my memory goes back to my grandparents' house 15 years back. The scene of the open veranda, the servant maid sitting on the floor cutting vegetables and onions around 11 am daily and my grandmother on the other side of the veranda in the kitchen cooking - usually boiling the fresh milk at that time of the day. The guava tree outside the grill always had fruits on it and the curry-leaves tree was green all through the year. A cat was usually seen sitting on the boundary wall watching birds sit on the tree, come down to the floor of veranda, take pieces of vegetable waste and fly away. The huge pomegranate tree was on the other side not visible in this scene. But I feel it's cool presence well aware of the sweet fruit it always blessed me with; alhamdulillah.

There was a small nest made by some sparrows in the outer side of a ventilator at roof-level and one of those sparrows had a cut limb. Though when sparrows move on the ground they appear to be hopping, this sparrow's hop was different. It would fly down from it's nest, pick pieces of cut cilantro in it's beak and fly away. I remember seeing this happen several times during those days. I remember our servant maid leaving vegetable waste on purpose in the open so that these birds could pick them up. After those days, I don't remember seeing many sparrows in India. And now, when I am here, I seem them so frequently. I miss that lame sparrow. A few years back I wept thinking about that small bird. I guess it's already dead.

In the evening I was checking out at Walmart when I saw a three-years-or-so girl playing with a CD box waiting for her mother. A boy younger to her was sitting on the cart and there was a baby lying inside the cart. I watched the girl moving around jumping when she saw me. I smiled at her and she returned a smile but I turned away with several things in my mind. I recollected my brother telling me that my smile looked artificial most of the times, I realized I have not found any times in the last one week to shave my beard that I might be looking unpleasing and I was sure I would feel more sad watching those three kids play not giving me a chance to join them and talk to them. The girl was so beautiful. She was Hispanic.

Tuesday morning I returned from the university at 6:45 am. We were working on a project involving AES, MAC and Google APIs for a few days and we had to submit it before evening the same day. The day before I went to the university in the afternoon after returning from job, came back to apartment for some rest and food and went back again. On Tuesday afternoon I was there to make the final proceedings. Our submission was before time but we were late for another assignment we had. An hour later I had another submission for a core course. The class had already started and I was working in the lab. I called my teammate who was in the class; as expected, he didn't receive. He called me back after a few minutes. I asked him if he could come out for a minute. A couple of minutes later I was on my way back to my apartment thanking Allah how blessed I am to have wonderful people around me. I had handed over some papers to my teammate and asked him to submit them on my behalf. I couldn't attend the class because there was hardly any time left for it to get over.

The status message of a contact in Facebook reminded me of a poem I had written about more than two years back. His status message said he was very happy. That night I wrote the poem I was very happy too - with no reason; and I don't remember being happy like that again since then. It's not that happiness has stayed away from me - I have seen lots of happiness and satisfaction in other ways; but this was different. It was night time and seemed as if it was going to rain, the weather was pleasant with cool breeze entering the window and the only thing I knew was that I was very happy. I remember no words of the poem, I only remember what made me write it; I remember the happiness. It was so different again when I was going for work at 5:30 am in the morning. Every day seems something different here. Alhamdulillah. My job started at 6 am on Thursday.

One of my friends is going to leave for Jeddah next week inshAllah. He has had his share of waiting and now inshAllah he shall be on his own. It's eight months and ten days since I have left home and I seem to have forgotten so many things about how I used to live there. Allah has made us very flexible and adjusting that we can blend ourselves into anything we find worth it. I am going to see my first summer here and I hope I make the most out of it. I want to earn as much as possible and perfect Java. InshAllah by next month I will have paid off for my car and I know how I will be satisfied. It's another dream fulfilled alhamdulillah - having a car here is not a big deal but having it being a student like me is. Right now I can think of only one thing in this life that could give me more happiness than anything else. It's not getting a permanent job, going to India, getting married or even buying an island. It's something else irreplaceable.

A Little April

One of the virtues of being very young is that you don't let the facts get in the way of your imagination. 

-Sam Levenson

There isn't any big reason to write today save the fact that I haven't written for a while. With hardy any time left for the semester to end there are some project submissions and tests to be taken care of which consume a lot of time. It's good to be spending time this way rather than doing stuff that works for nothing. I have to go to bed early now so that I can wake up at 7 am to go to work. I haven't slept much in the last few days - I guess it was four hours yesterday and about five hours a day before. I don't remember how long it was before that. It isn't of much importance except that my eyes appear tired with darkness around them.

I registered for courses for Fall 2009 the other day. InshAllah I am going to study Advanced Software Architecture and Design, Advanced Database Design and Telecom Network Management. I am not quite sure if I am going to go ahead with the last one in list - I have least idea about what it is. All I know from others is it gives good grades. I will go for something else if something new and interesting is offered. I wanted to study a course involving Data Mining but it has Computational Biology as a prerequisite which I am in no mood to consider. I won't be taking any course for the summer semester. I don't want to finish my studies any earlier than May 2010.

After writing the first two sentences I felt like deleting them and postponing the update after which I stopped thinking about what I am feeling. I will have some snack and go to bed in a few minutes inshAllah. It definitely doesn't feel good not spending much time on the computer, but I have to sacrifice that for a couple of days inshAllah. It's not supposed to be called as a sacrifice though - it's a path I have chosen over other things I could have opted for. Being patient can be frustrating. I used to think it's all just a matter of time. Being patient also at times leads to giving no importance to what patience can bring. Frustration can kill many a thing. I can't stop myself from thinking about everything I feel. I like a few of them - even if they are self-defeating.

Some Times In April

Today I come bearing an olive branch in one hand, and the freedom fighter's gun in the other. Do not let the olive branch fall from my hand. I repeat, do not let the olive branch fall from my hand.

 - Yasser Arafat, United Nations General Assembly, New York, November 13th, 1974

I got an e-mail from a friend from India who asked me to vote for the present king of Saudi Arabia for the Nobel Peace prize. The moment I saw that I decided I would vote against it. I opened the link that e-mail contained and found a button on that page that read "vote". I thought clicking on it would give options to vote in favor of the king or against the king and so, I clicked it. On the contrary, the web-page gave me a message that thanked me for voting for the king. It just made me say "what?". That king might be the ruler of that country Saudi Arabia but he can't dictate on what I think about him. He might be a king, one of the richest men in the world owning more than $21 billion or even a Muslim. I would never want him to get any prize.

If this king was a true Muslim he would have given up his power and had enforced khilafat in his country. If he was a true Muslim having so much money he would have helped millions of poor dying with hunger in Africa. If he was a true Muslim he would never live in castles made out from money his country men deserve to have. Wikipedia tells about the amount of money he has donated for various purposes. If he was a true Muslim not even his four wives, seven sons and 15 daughters would have come to know about it. He has been ranked No. 5 on Parade Magazine's 2009 World's Worst Dictators list. I would never be in favor of this kind of person getting a Peace Prize.

Saudi Arabia has already been sold to the United States of America. Every time a Saudi king or a prince makes an international statement it is moderated by America. Literacy rate in Saudi Arabia is too less given the amount of wealth its citizens possess. Every few years they build a new university, emulate America, create a western environment and the king takes credit for it. If the king was really interested in getting the people of his country educated, Saudi Arabia could easily afford a hundred new universities every year. The royal family doesn't want the people to get educated. Education is a threat to monarchy.

Recently I read an article that said how 200 Mosques in Mecca have the wrong Quibla direction. I am well aware how many people living in Saudi Arabia practice Islam because it's their culture and not purely because Allah has asked us for it. There are so many fake Shariat laws in effect in Saudi Arabia including the one that gives the government the power to enforce purda. And it's purda which is enforced, not the hijab which Allah wants us to practice. No matter how many years a citizen of other country lives in this kingdom, serves the rich sheiks there, he is never treated like how the locals are treated. I am well aware how South Asians are given second rate treatment even by the police that is supposed to keep law in order. A king of such a country deserves no prize.

I was already angry while returning from work today and this e-mail proved to be a perfect catalyst to it. I was so angry that I had to remind myself of the speed limit on the roads I was driving on. I just wanted to press the gas hard and pour out all the heat my blood had but the rules don't allow anybody do that. Alhamdulillah. All my way back home I was trying my best to find faults in myself and every time I could find even a small piece of it I could feel calmness returning to me. I even forgot to drink the can of soda I had kept by my side. Perhaps I was good by the time I returned to my laptop; I saw this e-mail and it was back to square one again. I never liked Saudi Arabia having a king. But perhaps it's in the best interests on those illiterate people that they are ruled by somebody than given the power to rule themselves. Allah decides; alhamdulillah.

With Mondays

Clothes make the man.  Naked people have little or no influence on society. 

- Mark Twain 

I changed my wallet today. I had been using a black one given to me by my aunt a couple of years back. She and I were cleaning my grandfather's room and found two new black leather wallets in one of his bags. She asked me to keep one of them so that it didn't go waste staying in the same bag. Today, I removed all my money and cards from it and put it in the new one, put the money I had in my suitcase in it and put it back into the suitcase. The new one I am using now was gifted to me by my friends in 2007 on my birthday. It's brown in color. I remember that day.

We went to watch Pink Panther 2 on Monday at night. I had a class till 9:45 pm but the professor was not going to come so I thought I could inshAllah finish the assignments by next class and skip this one. The movie got over at 11 pm, we went to Walmart after that and by the time we reached home, cooked food and had dinner, I am sure it was 2 am. This was an hour early than when I had my dinner after coming home on Sunday. I had slept a little before 7 am to stay in it for 10 hours. I sleep on Mondays alhamdulillah. It's as difficult to get out of bed as it is to get in. It's a fight.

Sunday, just a few hours after talking to my parents I felt like talking to my father again. For an hour I tried to imagine how he would respond. I was sure he would ask me if everything was alright but I just wanted to talk to him. It was uneasy to think how calling my father too needed a reason. Further, I didn't wish to give him any impression that there might be something I am feeling bad about that I wanted to talk to him - I just wanted to talk not even knowing what to talking; it's not what we talk; it's the talk - the time spent. And I called him. Perhaps he understands how one would feel and we spoke as if we hadn't had any conversation for a week. Alhamdulillah. I wish I never have to think twice before I feel like talking to anybody, never have to decide that I shouldn't call and always have the phone number of the person I wish to talk; inshAllah.