Eid/ Saddam Hussain

Eid this time round has been a quiet affair. We didn’t really feel like celebrating seen as what happened last Eid. Some people say she had such a good kismat (fate) to pass away on such a special day, the day of Eid and she was such a blessed person. On the other hand, I know I can never forget that day and what we all went through, what Aishi went through. I mean I don't think I could ever forget but whenever I see other people out there celebrating Eid, it will always bring back what we had to go through. I just know it will never be the same again and that sucks.

Looks like this Eid was also a bad time for some other people. As I’m sure many people are aware of Saddam Hussain being hung on Eid day and if you didn’t where the hell have you been? I’m not saying he was a saint as he did some pretty awful things during his time in power but to take another life is not something I agree with. I mean killing him didn’t bring back all those that died at his hands and some people might say that he should have been made to suffer or perhaps kept locked up to induce some sense of remorse for his wrong doings. I DO know that it was distasteful to hang him on Eid as its something I didn’t expect just the same as I wouldn’t expect the them to say, hang a Christian on Christmas day, it's just not an acceptable thing to do, but then again neither is hanging someone so what the hell. Hmm the world we live in :(

Once upon a time…

Christmas time and I’m watching the assortment of movies that BBC and the other channels put on every year. It got me thinking about my childhood and how much I enjoyed watching these movies. Do remember as a young child when you were told stories by your teachers/parents/grandparents and every story they told had some kind of hidden message; a moral to each story. Those messages were meant to teach you a lesson and hopefully you would go onto remember them in the future. Man, I haven’t heard one of those stories in such a long time and I miss it. I miss being a kid, simpler times :)

Well what with it being Christmas and all, I recently overheard an elderly gentleman tell his grandchildren a similar story. The children were actually interested in what was being said; then again they were only 5 or 6 years of age. The story went something like this…

There was a little boy called Jack who was visiting his grandparents on their farm, along with his sister Susie. Jack was given a slingshot to play with out in the woods. He

practiced in the woods, but he could never hit the target. Getting a little discouraged one day, he headed back for dinner a little sad.

As he was walking back he saw to the house, he saw Grandma's pet duck. Just out of impulse, Jack let the slingshot fly, hit the duck square in the head and killed it by accident. He was shocked and grieved! In a panic, he hid the dead duck in the wood pile, only to turn around and find his sister standing behind him.

Susie had seen it all, but she said nothing. After lunch the next day Grandma said, “Susie, please could you help me wash the dishes?” Susie replied with, “Grandma, Jack told me he wanted to help in the kitchen.” Then she whispered to him, “Remember the duck?” So Jack did the dishes.

Later that day, Grandpa asked if the children wanted to go fishing and Grandma said, “I'm sorry but I need Susie to help me make supper.” Susie just smiled and said, “Well, that's all right because Jack told me he wanted to help.” She whispered again, “Remember the duck?” So Susie went fishing with Grandpa and Jack stayed at home to help Grandma.

After several days of Jack doing both his chores and Susie’s, he finally couldn't stand it any longer. Jack went to Grandma and confessed that he had killed the duck. Grandma knelt down, gave him a hug and said, “Sweetheart, I know. You see, I was standing at the window and I saw the whole thing. But because I love you, I forgave you. I was just wondering how long you would let Susie make a slave of you.”

The elderly gentleman was actually much more animated with his story telling complete with actions, different voices, sound effects etc. What a cool granddad! Lol. At the end of the story, he turned to his grandchildren and asked them what they thought the story was trying to telling us. So I ask you the same question, what do you think the moral of the story was?

Message of the story:
Whatever is in your past, whatever you have done that the devil keeps throwing it up in your face (lying, cheating, debt, fear, bad habits, hatred, anger, bitterness, etc.). Whatever it may be, you need to know that God was standing at the window.

He saw the whole thing and he has seen your whole life. He wants you to know that he loves you and that you are forgiven. He was just wondering how long you will let the devil make a slave of you. The great thing about God is that when you ask for forgiveness, he not only forgives you, but he forgets. It is by God’s grace and mercy that we are saved.

So yea a bit of religious message, but I liked it and just wanted to share it you guys :)

Xmas hols – helping begins

Christmas holidays are here once again and once again Dad made promises of doing some DIY in the house and once again I’m still not convinced he will get round to it, lol. Don’t get me wrong I love my dad dearly, though at times he does test me and I do have a lot of faith in him - shocking I know! - but he always seems to get caught up working or helping someone out or this or that.

I know I’ll probably get really tired of waiting around and I’ll do the work myself. Just in case your wondering, my dad still complains about the hallway saying how he would have done a better job and actually if I’m totally honest he probably would have. My dad’s a perfectionist as am I, but to be fair he has had more practise over the years :)

But you’ve gotta give me some credit, I took the initiative - actually scratch that mum practically forced me to do it! I um… made the effort to do some DIY on my own and err, it doesn’t look that bad. In fact, I’m quite pleased with myself so :p

So far in my hols I’ve managed to help dad fix leaky taps in the other houses, plaster ceilings and a few more odd jobs but nothing in our own sweet home as yet. Since I swapped rooms with mum and dad, I’ve been wanting to get rid of the huge monster fitted wardrobe so I’ll have more room for all my rubbish as dad calls it, lol.

Billy’s nativity play

It’s that time of year again. Uh oh… or should that be ho ho ho? Sorry I just couldn’t resist the stupidity of it :)

God I remember my school plays, we all got divided into these groups somehow-
1) Can’t be arsed – got roles that weren’t too demanding
2) Goody 2 shoes – always got the good parts
3) Behind the scenes – didn’t require any roles, just liked being in charge
4) Extras – All the misfits who had to do something cos the school policy didn’t allow otherwise, lol.

I usually fell into the category of behind the scenes as I loved to help (come on… it was time off from school lessons) plus I didn’t like the feeling of being up on stage and being watched by a roomful of strangers. I’ve never been to a nativity play, well except my own school plays – I had to be there; it was mandatory! So this year on the day of my little brother’s play, mum was busy at home and as I had the day off I was asked to go instead. I’ll be honest, the idea didn’t have me jumping for joy at first but Bilal seemed really excited about the whole thing what with all his practising this past week, so I decided I might as well. Plus the alternative was daytime TV and it’s not like I’m missing much there. So that’s how I found my self in the school hall, on my day off, surrounded by parents armed with camcorders ready to give the death stare to anyone who got in their way and ruined the camera shot - terrifying?! Hell yes!

The play was actually very good, some funny moments were had, the singing was lovely and they remembered most of their words. Watching the play, I realised my brother Billy falls into the category of “can’t be arsed” as in he has the enthusiasm and is quite good mashAllah but can’t be bothered to put it to good use. Billy was in the front row, singing his little heart out and much to my amusement, swaying along to the music. Particularly made more funny by the fact that none of the other kids had moved a muscle. No seriously, the other kids were stood rigid with only their mouths moving and some weren’t even making an effort to do that! Whilst in contrast Bilal, was having a little dance party of his own. Bless him! He kept smiling in my direction and I thought he was pleased to see me. I then realised that my dad had come to see Billy’s play and was stood behind me – basically the little dance was to impress dad, Bilal the weirdo! Anyway dad left early for work and I stayed behind to speak to Bilal and say kind words of reassurance etc and how good he was and so forth.

Instead of Bilal being the normal “silly billy” as in previous school encounters, Billy was now acting like he owned the school and showing off to his friends. He wasn’t too cocky with me though as he knew he’d get a right lecture at home and so stayed just on the right side of cheekiness… clever boy, lol. I’m actually quite surprised in this sudden change in Bilal in this last year or so; not sure if it’s a good thing or a bad thing. Anyway pictures up on flickr soon.

40 days

It’s been 40 days already and I can’t believe how quickly time has gone by. It feels like only yesterday that Aisha left us and all I can do is still cry. I can’t coherently describe how I feel, without breaking down and most people probably think I’m a bit of a psychotic what with my sudden changes in mood. The smallest thing somehow reminds me of Aishi and sets me off crying… even at work, I felt like such an idiot. I’ve turned into one of those overemotional people that I used to stay clear of as I don’t know how to respond to them without breaking down myself. I have probably made a lot of people uncomfortable over the last month; but I do appreciate everyone that has been around to help. Yet deep down though it still doesn’t make up for the fact that I’ll never see Aishi again.

I guess it’s true what they say about taking things for granted. How I wish I could turn back time to help my little sister and make her better, instead I just feel this enormous amount of guilt that I didn’t understand what was happening to her. I think my mum and dad probably have that feeling from time to time, my mum probably more so than my dad and I just don’t know what words I could say to make it all better. I guess it’s partly because it’ll never be right again.

I also feel angry as well because if this was all the time that she had with us then why did he make her suffer? Why not let her enjoy what little life she had? I don’t understand why my little brother Bilal doesn’t feel the same sense of loss that I do. I mean he’s not a baby anymore, he understands what is going on or perhaps he just didn't feel as close to her as I did? Everything is so confused right now. I was told that by praying with a true heart during the holy month of Ramadan, anything we ask for is granted, which filled me with immense feeling of optimism. I wasn’t asking for money or fame… instead I prayed and begged him to spare Aishi and relieve her of her suffering, to make her better again… so why is it that he didn’t listen? Was my heart not pure enough or did he just not care?

I feel so stupid for thinking that we would see a miracle and when that didn’t happen, I guess I felt… abandoned. I went through a phase of not believing in him anymore as he failed to come to my rescue or more specifically my sister’s rescue. Since that day though I still continue to pray and even recited the whole Quran on my own so that I could bless my sister, but I feel like I’ve lost a part of me. I’m not sure if it’s the loss of Aishi or maybe the fact that I think I don’t any longer have 100% belief in my religion anymore. I still pray but I see it more as a duty as opposed to previous times when I prayed because I wanted to connect on a one to one basis, share my fears and successes with Allah and thank him for being there for me. It’s like when I put my trust in a friend and they let me down, I still forgive them but I don’t trust them the same as I used to do and I guess I become a much more guarded person around them. It sounds stupid but I feel like that with Allah, I put my faith in him and he let me down at a time when I needed him the most.

The month of November saw the loss of another family member, Uncle Javid. We went to pay our respects and usually at these places I offer my condolences and sit quietly in a corner to think about the changes that the family must be going through and how hard it must be for them. However this time round instead of giving words of comfort to uncle Javid’s daughter, I ended up crying and as I cried I suddenly realised that I was crying more for my sister rather than my uncle passing away. I felt like such a selfish person and ended up apologising to Nilofer, who mashAllah was very together for her mum and younger brother. I felt so stupid for not being able to stop myself for crying and had to step out of the house for a while. On my way out, I managed to catch a look on my younger cousin Sara’s face. I'm not entirely sure if it was disapproval or just pity.

I know it sounds a bit cynical but at funeral’s, I used to look at people when they were paying their respects and wonder if their tears were for show or for real; and if they were real were they expressing genuine grief for the person who passed away or other feelings such as guilt etc. I guess I never really thought that deeply about until I had to go through it myself. I mean I have suffered the loss of loved ones before such as my grandparents passing away and it’s not to say I wasn’t close to them but more that I didn’t see them everyday. When I do think about them a part of my brain just tells me that I’ll just see them this summer and then I have to remind myself that they are actually no longer in this world. With Aisha it was more a case of that I was with her 24/7 and even though she couldn’t physically walk or talk that much, I could tell what she wanted to say. For these past few weeks, I wake up every morning and as usual I make my way to Aisha’s bedroom to say morning, give her a cuddle and just indulge in idle chit-chat with her before getting on with the rest of the day. Nowadays I find myself stopping mid-way and realising that there is no Aisha there to speak to and to have a cuddle with.

I can’t explain how for those few moments in the morning, how strong the sadness is that engulfs me and throws me off balance. It’s like someone just punched me in the stomach and I’m having to gasp for air. I get that feeling from time to time during the day and I just can’t seem to get over it. The more it happens, the more I seem to lose control over my emotions and turn into a weeping mess. I know others won’t understand and it doesn’t matter to me what they think but she IS my closest friend, the best sister I could ask for. I just wish I had a bit more time to spend her like I did this summer. I’ll always have our memories but it’s just not the same as the real thing…