Mariya Ali

Life isn't about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself.

Month: April 2015 (Page 1 of 2)

Where is the love?

I saw an article today about a television re-enactment of a horrific crime that took place in Afghanistan over a month ago. A “mentally unstable” woman was chastising worshipers who were praying to a shrine (a practice which is of much debate as to whether it is permitted in Islam), and was then (falsely) accused of burning pages of the Quran. What followed next is nothing short of horrifying.

The mentally ill woman, her face covered in blood, rose to her feet and looked out across the mob. She pleaded. But these men meant to kill her.

A kick sent her tumbling backward. In the courtyard of one of Kabul’s most famous shrines, men hurled stones at her and struck her with wooden planks.

When she was dead, they tied her body to a car and drove to the Kabul River. On the garbage-strewn bank, they burned her corpse.

Firstly, let me take issue with calling her a “mentally ill woman”.

A few weeks ago, Farkhunda had told a doctor treating her that she planned to commit suicide, a top police investigator in Kabul, Gen. Mohammad Farid Afzali, said in a phone interview. In recent days she had stopped sleeping, her mother told television reporters.

“Farkhunda had a mental malady, and we have been seeing many mullahs and doctors to seek a cure for her mental illness,” her mother said.

Having suicidal thoughts does not necessarily mean that someone has a mental illness. What is the point of this being highlighted anyway? It’s quite clear to see; the article is essentially trying to discredit this woman. This is absolving, or at the very least, minimising the extent of how horrific and barbaric this was. Whether a person is mentally ill or not, nobody, I repeat nobody, should ever be treated like that.

What I fail to understand is where is the humanity in the vile creatures that inflicted this pain on another human being? How can a person who willingly contributes to taking another person’s life sleep at night? Are they not plagued with images of this poor innocent woman’s face every night?

No. Not at all. In fact, many of the attackers took to social media, posting videos and pictures of their attack and actually boasting about their involvement. She was 27 years old, she had her entire life ahead of her. All of her hopes and dreams were extinguished because of a misunderstanding and a crowd of vile, conscienceless, pathetic excuses for human beings. All of this, in the name of religion? The only religion that would endorse this is Satanism.

It is stories like this that make me start to lose faith in humanity.

From a purely psychological standpoint, how are these men able to justify these actions to themselves? Do they believe that they are doing this in the name of religion, therefore they are doing it for the better? I truly don’t understand human nature enough to grasp how a person could willingly take part in such a heinous crime. I don’t understand how they are able to then go and boast about their involvement in taking the life of another person, even if they truly believed that this person deserved it (which clearly is not the case). What they did was truly sadistic and wrong on so many levels. How are they able to take pride in participating in this?

My.old.man Will.I.Am (and the Black Eyed Peas) said it well:
Yo’, whatever happened to the values of humanity
Whatever happened to the fairness and equality
Instead of spreading love we’re spreading animosity
Lack of understanding, leading us away from unity

Where, my friends, is the love?

Grief: A Character Assassination

121Grief is deceptive. It makes you think you are okay, and then it suddenly appears, out of nowhere and completely engulfs you.


Grief is two-faced.
At times it allows you to happily reminisce, at others it immerses you in bittersweet memories and torments you, constantly whispering in your ear. “You will never see her again”, it says.

Grief is cruel.
It sadistically places a black veil over your life, darkening all experiences.

Grief is relentless.
It is there, lurking in the corner of the room you are in. You may busy yourself to ignore its presence, but it is always there, watching you.

Grief is condescending.
It looks down on you and all of your past transgression and fills you with remorse.

Grief is isolating. It creates a pain that consumes you, so that the pain of others isn’t as important as it should be.

Grief is resilient. It doesn’t matter how hard you try to fight it, it does not go away.

Grief is mean.
It robs you of happiness and fills you with emptiness.

Grief is merciless. It inflicts pain on innocent, good people.  It does not heed anguish-laden calls to go away.

Grief is rude. It outstays its welcome. It bursts through the door unannounced and lingers until the very end.

Grief is remorseless. It feels nothing and cares not for the people it steamrolls over.

Grief is cowardly.
It never confronts you, but attacks you from behind.

Grief is cunning. It strategically plans how to inflict maximum damage when you least expect it.  It is the army of 1,000 gun-wielding maniacs that surrounds you and forces you to surrender.

Grief is conscienceless. It kicks you while you are down. It strikes after heartache and rubs salt into gaping wounds.

Grief is tyrannical. It cares not for your thoughts or feelings, but overpowers and overrules you.  It has absolute authority over every atom of your being.

Grief is greedy.
It has an insatiable appetite for pain.  It infiltrates your entire body, saturating your cells and running through your veins.

Grief is impatient. It does not wait for shock to subside, but exposes its venom-laced fangs and strikes immediately.

Grief is inconsiderate. It is apathetic towards other circumstances in your life and overtakes you without a care for your other commitments.

Grief is indecisive. It can’t decide whether to stay or go, filling you with insecurity and anxiety.

Grief is indiscreet. It overrides your ability to smile and pretend that you are okay. It robs you of your ability to have a smile that reaches your eyes.

Grief is interfering. It listens into your conversations and interrupts mid-sentence.

Grief is jealous. It sabotages and suffocates happiness.

Grief is possessive.
It monopolises your time, energy and emotions.

Grief is patronising.
It makes you realise how insignificant and powerless you are.

Grief, I don’t like you. Please go away.

 

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Read At Your Own Peril: A Brief Insight Into My Mind

Sleep evades me, so I shall do the only thing that gives me comfort these days: Write. Perhaps this is unwise, sharing my thoughts and feelings in the vulnerable state that sleep deprivation causes. That grey area between being awake and asleep. The broken barriers and poor judgement that ensues. Perhaps it’s unwise to share my innermost thoughts with the world at large, but I have decided to be unashamedly, un-apologetically, authentically me.  Warts and all.

It’s a bad place, the place that I am in.  A vortex of darkness, a black hole that seems to crush every particle of light that comes within close proximity.  A strong gravity that only attracts negativity.  My mind is inundated with regrets, sadness, what-ifs, remorse.  It doesn’t seem to matter how hard I try to break through with positivity, a strong force crushes it and obliterates it into vapour that dissipates into the all consuming, all encompassing darkness.

And so I wonder, how long will this one last?  Will it be gone in the morning?  Will this seemingly endless torture last a few days?  How long will my next respite be?  How many more times do I have to go through this cycle?  Wash, rinse, repeat, until the end of time.

And now, I feel nothing.  Numbness.  Or perhaps it is something, my brain is too foggy and my eyes too heavy to analyse it any further.  “This too shall pass”, I assure myself.  And it shall. But then, it shall return.

I knew tonight would be hard.  I was hoping that I would sleep through the night, avoiding those perilous-sleep-deprived late hours of the night/early hours of the morning.  The hours where fatigue weakens me and I balance precariously on the edge of sanity, where the slightest push can be the catalyst that sends me catapulting over the edge.  The hours where there is no activity, nothing to divert my attention and occupy as much of my brain as I can, to minimise this evil force.  But I have a sadistic enjoyment of this state.  A want to go further and deeper.  A need to feel pain.  The type of enjoyment a child gets from poking a bruise.  Perhaps it is me punishing myself for the perceived transgressions that my mind is torturing me with.  I call this threshold “the point of no return”.   Once here, there is no going back.  Grit your teeth, hold on, brace yourself and survive the ride.

And so there it is, a brief insight into my mind.  It’s not pretty, is it?

Hypothetical Questions on Homosexuality

same-sex marriages

In the Western World, homosexuality and bisexuality are no longer taboo. It is an accepted lifestyle, although there are always pockets of bias against them, for the most part, they are happily able to live their alternative lifestyle. Same sex marriages are allowed throughout the entirety of the UK and the majority of the US.

However, on a micro scale, it is completely unacceptable within the bohra community. Which leads one to a conundrum: With all the emphasis and pressure placed on marriage in our community, what happens to those who are homosexual? Do they live a lie, succumb to the pressure and marry? Do they take a stand and refuse to marry without explanation? What are the repercussions of this?

This is not a debate on whether Islam permits homosexuality (however, this is an interesting article on that topic), nor is it a debate on whether homosexuality is nature vs. nurture. This is simply random thoughts on a whole bunch of “what ifs”. I certainly have no authority nor enough knowledge to speak on either of the above points but mainly, I have no authority to judge others.

This article on same-sex marriage tells the story of an inter-race, inter-gender marriage and raises some good points.

Well, we live in a society where let alone homosexual, even love and inter-caste marriages are looked down upon by majority. In a scenario, where live-in relationships are condemned, married couples without kids are seen as outcasts, and unmarried women in their 30s are no less than a national issue, how open are ‘WE’ in accepting ‘Shannon and Seemas’?

Homosexuals have to deal with immense social stigma, outright rejection of their sexual identities, and are even compelled to marry people of the opposite sex. Same-sex marriage, as a concept is more or less a subject of ridicule and jokes.

In the hypothetical situation that this were to occur within our community, what are the potential outcomes?

In the case of joining the mainstream and marrying, regardless of sexual orientation:
1. Is it fair on the person who is being married?
2. Is it fair on the person who is homosexual?
In both circumstances, I would say no. But the latter poses a viewpoint that I think is often overlooked. Sure, it is unfair on the unsuspecting other party, who marries to create a life and family with someone under false pretenses. But it must be really hard on the person who is gay. Knowing that your choices will never be accepted and you can never be who you really are, or if you do, then it is at a high cost. Most likely being shunned by the community at large and potentially your family and friends. It could have ramifications on your family as well. After all, we are all too aware of how the bohra gossip mill is constantly working overdrive. A combination of stigma, lack of education and acceptance would make anyone who openly “comes out” a social outcast and would most likely have severe repercussions on the immediate and potentially extended family. I also wonder whether anything would be done to “correct” the homosexual tendencies. I know that in some sects, and indeed previously in England, hormone therapy was given to “treat” homosexuality.

What if the person resists the pressure to get married?
1. How do you answer/dodge all of those questions?
2. Could you ever openly be in a homosexual relationship?
I have no idea on the former, nor have I seen any examples or even attempts for the latter. I sometimes wonder what the reaction to this would be? Perhaps I have too active an imagination/too much time/both. In a community where marrying out is frowned upon, what would happen if a same-sex marriage were to take place?

I doubt that we will have a Seema/Shannon marriage anytime in the near and potentially even distant future. This topic is not even talked or joked about quietly, it is simply ignored. I wonder if the situation will ever arise where this will need to change. Until then, this remains a bunch of random hypothetical questions I come up with to placate my overactive imagination.

Potter Philosophy: What is life without risk?

Wise words from HP

What is life without a little risk?

“Signing this document absolves this sky diving company from all responsibility in the case of any injury, including death.”
I re-read that a couple of times, took a deep breath and signed on the dotted line.

I’m most certainly one that lives on the edge. I don’t look before I leap (no pun intended) and I don’t consider the consequences. I blindly follow what my heart and mind (or sometimes either exclusively) tells me to do.

Wouldn’t life be boring otherwise? My mother, Asmi, bless her cotton socks, is a worrier. My father and I both joke that if mum didn’t have anything to worry about, then she’d worry about having nothing to worry about. Not only does she labour over every hypothetical outcome of the situation at hand, she will then analyse the hypothetical outcomes of the hypothetical outcomes of the situation at hand.
If mum’s worrying was translated into a maths equation, it would be along the lines of:

If x results in a or b or c and a results in d and e, b results in f and g and c results in h and i, where a is an almost certainty and b and c are highly unlikely to happen, should I do a, b, or c, and then should I do d, e, f, g, h or i?

Basically it’s a lot of variables that just don’t need to be there.

But I love my mum, I love her analytical mind, I love how she considers all possible outcomes and calculates risk.
When she went skydiving (because my mum is cool like that), I’m sure she checked her safety equipment 5 times before she jumped, was constantly aware of her altitude and released her parachute at exactly 1000m, or maybe 999m if she was having a bad day.

Me? I just jump. I am 0% foresight and 100% hindsight. I didn’t check my equipment. On the flight up, when asked what to do at 1000m, I said the only thing that popped into my mind. “Pray”. During the tandem skydive, when the instructor showed me his watch to indicate that the altitude was now 1000m and I needed to deploy the parachute, I just thought, “really? I’m falling from the sky and you’re telling me the time.” After he deployed the parachute (at 900m, after realising that I had forgotten to open that little thing that would save both of our lives), I realised why he was showing me his watch. Whoops.

This look-after-I-leap attitude has not served me well in some instances. Unknowingly taking the riskiest option has had some dire, painful outcomes. Then again, sometimes I’ve been lucky and they have paid off.

One of my uncles visited London and stayed with us.
“I always believed in balance. After meeting Mariya I realise that she is the yang to Asmi’s ying.”
I think he said that in jest, but in this context, he is 100% correct. Oftentimes I will hear my mum say “Don’t do that, if you do it then this will happen. Do this instead, it will be much better for you.” Every time, she was right. Conversely, there have been many times where I have said “Mum, you need to stop worrying about b, c, d, e, f….z, because a will happen. So stop caring about the rest!” I don’t have 100% success rate, but I’m still in training.

What is life without a little risk?
I think I need to work on mastering that part about “a little”.
And listen to my mother more.

Big Brother is (probably not) watching you

Log kya kahenge

Orwellian
Definition: To describe something as “Orwellian” is to say that it brings to mind the fictional totalitarian society of Oceania described in George Orwell’s novel Nineteen Eighty-Four.

In Orwell’s novel, all citizens of Oceania are monitored by cameras, are fed fabricated news stories by the government, are forced to worship a mythical government leader called Big Brother, are indoctrinated to believe nonsense statements (the mantra “WAR IS PEACE, SLAVERY IS FREEDOM, IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH”), and are subject to torture and execution if they question the order of things

“Aren’t you worried about the repercussions of your post?” A friend asked me. He was referring to my post the other day on Female Genital Mutilation and the reaction I would get from leaders of my community.
“It’s just a small personal blog that nobody reads. I’m sure they have bigger fish to fry.”
“A fish is a fish,” he replied.

I often wonder why there is so much fear in our community when it comes to standing up and expressing our opinion if it goes against the status quo. There seems to be an innate fear by all, a combined worry that if you step out of line the consequences will be dire. In all honesty though, what is the worst that can happen? Our community is evolving into a community scared to speak their mind, silenced and controlled by an implicit threat of the unknown.

But is this the only reason that we stay silent?

I spoke out openly about an issue that is very close to my heart, knowing so many others who have been affected by it. Some said I was right, some said I was wrong, but people said something. Dialog was initiated, even if it was a ripple in an ocean. Log kya kahenge? I don’t really care. Some people will think me brave, others insolent, others smart, others stupid. Either way, it really doesn’t affect me. What will be the repercussions? As yet, nothing, except women with shared experiences coming forward and telling me that they share my sentiments. Is that really something to be afraid of?

I’m not here to start a revolution. I don’t believe that we live in a community where we are silenced and unable to speak our mind. I think we collectively fear speaking our mind. Masked by the excuse of repercussions from above, the real fear is the fear of other peoples’ opinions of us. By other people, I mean other people in the community. Along with the sound of azaan before namaaz, waaz and chatter through jaman, there is a constant soft murmur. A quiet but steady chorus of gossip, bitching, rumor-spreading, judging and belittling. This is what we are scared of.

Log kya kahenge

Except it is not killing dreams in this scenario. It is killing the well being, happiness and health of our beloved daughters, sisters and mothers. We are creating an Orwellian community and it is up to us, and us alone, to change this.

Log kya kahenge.
3 simple words.
Strong enough to prevent society from progressing.

So let’s throw caution to the wind and progress.

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