Bismillah

Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar, Laa illaaha illAllah….these words are buzzing through our heads nowadays, as we proclaim the greatness of the first ten, exalted and esteemed days of the last month of the Islamic calendar – Dhul Hijjah. Allah has sworn by these days in the Quran:

“By the ten nights.”

[Surah Al-Fajr: 2]

Unlike the last ten odd nights of the Holy month of Ramadan, which are exalted in seeking rewards through night worship every odd-numbered night, the first ten days of Dhul Hijjah provide non-stop, continuous chances for doing righteous deeds.

Aside from personal acts of piety, they give Muslims the golden chance to do those good deeds that earn rewards even during the day, especially during daily, routine interaction with peers and family. For example, smiling, visiting a sick neighbor, makng your mother her tea, or patiently enduring a colleague’s unfair behavior are all good deeds that can earn manifold rewards if consciously done during these ten days.

The Prophet [صلی اللہ علیہ وسلم] said:

“There are no days during which good deeds are more beloved to Allah than these (ten) days.” He was asked, “Not even jihad in the path of Allah?” He replied, “Not even jihad in the path of Allah, except for a person who goes out with his self and his wealth, and comes back with nothing.”

[Sahih Al-Bukhari and others] 

Therefore, here is a list of ten things, both personal and communal, that can help us maximize our rewards during these blessed Dhul Hijjah days until Eid Al Adha:

1. Umrah and Hajj
   
   As the name of the month “Dhul Hijjah” suggests (viz. “the one of the Hajj”), the most exalted deed that can be performed in it is the pilgrimage of the house of Allah. Hajj is obligatory for those who can afford the journey, physically and financially, especially if they have never done it before.
   
2. Sacrifice of an animal
   
   Buying, rearing, and nurturing an animal for sacrifice for the sake of Allah is part of the ritual that forms the crux of this month; it is one of the rites performed during Dhul Hijjah, by the pilgrims and non-pilgrims both, starting from the same day - the 10^th of the month.
   
   Allah says in the Quran:
   
   ”It is not their meat, nor their blood, that reaches Allah. It is your piety that reaches Him: He has thus made them (sacrificial animals) subject to you, so that you may glorify Allah for His Guidance to you and proclaim the good news to all who do right.”
   
   [Surah Al-Hajj: 37]
   
   The hard work needed in getting the animal slaughtered and its meat cut and distributed on the 10^th – 13^th of this month should not dissuade a Muslim from enthusiastically performing this rite. Rather, he should remember that it is his taqwa during this process that will greatly please Allah.
   
   Some Muslim men opt to have the sacrifice done by a third party simply out of laziness, to avoid the manual work involved in slaughter. This attitude should be changed, and this sunnah should be carried out with enthusiasm, keeping in mind the unswerving spirit of Ibrahim (peace be upon him) as he lay his son down for sacrifice, in submission to his Lord.
   
3. Takbeer, tahleel and tahmeed
   
   Muslims should loudly recite these adhkar from the night they sight the Dhul Hijjah moon until the Eid salah on the 10^th. The wisdom behind doing this loudly (for men only) is so that listeners can be reminded to do the same.
   
4. Fasting
   
   Fasting on the Day of Arafah – 9^th Dhul Hijjah – is especially prescribed. It joins the Muslims in unity as one brotherhood: as the pilgrims reach Arafah to ask Allah for forgiveness, the rest of the Muslims the world over, seek forgiveness for their sins via fasting this day.
   
   As many other days as possible, from the 1^st – 8^th of this month, Muslims should fast in order to reach a higher level of piety and to earn rewards, especially on Monday and Thursday.
   
5. Zakah and Sadaqah
   
   Dhul Hijjah provides another chance to give pending zakah or other charity, for greater reward. Even giving one riyal per day will have its benefits!
   
6. Recitation of Quran
   
   Reciting each letter gets ten rewards at the minimum; how so ever more can one please Allah by reciting as much of the Quran as they can, during these ten days? Recitation should be done carefully, giving each letter of the Quran it’s due, and should not be taken as a chore. Do as much as you like; but do it every day.
   
7. Repentance
   
   As always, its never too late to seek Allah’s forgiveness, by renewing our intention to turn over a new leaf and change our way of life to one of righteousness. Offering two units of prayer before Fajr with this intention during these ten days would prove very beneficial.
   
8. Abstaining from prohibited things, entertainment, and useless pastimes
   
   Reducing the amount of time we spend on activities that do not benefit our Hereafter would be a wise course of action during these ten days. Even those mundane tasks and chores that take up our time and energy, such as fixing the kitchen plumbing or servicing the car, can be delayed until after Eid Al Adha.
   
9. Respecting and serving pilgrims
   
   Pilgrims are Allah’s guests. Any act of help towards them: feeding them, quenching their thirst, guiding them, giving them shelter, or easing their difficulties, will please Allah tremendously, insha’Allah.
   
10. Visiting Relatives
    
    These ten days can be cashed in on by visiting someone who is sick or experiencing bad times in their life, within one’s clan, neighborhood or community.
    

This “top-ten” list allows us to prioritize our course of action during Dhul Hijjah. We can focus on waking up early to pray and eat suhoor; to find, buy, feed and care for a sturdy sacrificial animal; to help a needy person every day or give them money, and to pray every obligatory prayer in the mosque. It is just a short, ten-day period, dear Muslims! Let us not procrastinate anymore; let us rush forward to perform little bits of all the above good deeds, in order to garner the pleasure of our Creator for the rest of the year!

Bismillah

Google AdSense has taken the global blogosphere by storm since a few years. It is a program that allows users to display Google advertisements on their websites and blogs when they sign up for it. Whenever a site visitor/content reader clicks on such an ad, revenue is generated and added to the website- or blog-owner's account. When these little cent-trickles add up over time and reach a $100, Google sends the blogger or website owner this amount of money via express check or any other specified mode of payment, such as Western Union. "Easy" money while sitting at home! Sound too good to be true? Well, it is.

As a result of the Google AdSense phenomenon, many people have turned to making money online by operating several websites or blogs simultaneously, and focusing on generating more and more content on them, so that the greater the number of web pages displaying Google ads, the more the number of ad-clicks, and hence, the more revenue generated for the site/blog owners. You will not be surprised to find several writing websites popping up on the Internet that entice users to sign up to write articles on their areas of 'expertise' (which could be anything from agnosticism to kite-flying), in return for "being paid" by the website. This "payment" however, turns out to be a few cents per month, unless the writer has hundreds of articles under their belt. Enter the realm of online moneymaking scams! The website owners keep a percentage of the revenue, and pay the registered writers the remaining percentage. What goes on behind the scenes is anybody's guess, because it is never known just how much of the chunk website owners actually keep for themselves.

My concern however, more than what people are doing elsewhere in the blogosphere (reportedly earning up to thousands of dollars per month through AdSense), is the implications of using AdSense and its generated revenue, for a Muslim blogger. This concern got me thinking about the permissibility of the ads displayed by Google on a Muslim's blog, and whether facilitating readers' clicks on that ad (which promptly takes them to that specific advertiser's website) is actually an action that will cause that Muslim more harm than benefit in their Akhirah.

Having a few-months old baby and  a toddler made me quite homebound over a year ago, and I turned to alternative da'wah that could make better use of my time at home with the babies. Like any naive start-up writer, I too, enthusiastically signed up to write for a how-to website, intending to fill up their embarrassingly empty "Islam" section with articles related to Islam, hoping to do my da'wah bit in the global cyberspace. Like any other novice at AdSense, I too, would be pleasantly surprised when a user clicked on an ad and I saw a big, fat "$0.21" appear in my account. Over the months, the cents kept adding up and I really did not believe that one day the so-called big pay-day would arrive (because in Pakistan, things don't always go smoothly - it's a developing country after all). However, it did. That was when my bubble burst.

When some of my Islamic articles started displaying ads inviting to other religions, I actually started to think about whether the income generated via AdSense was halal or not. When I started searching, I came across a post on a blog that talked about putting 'questionable' website URLs (which generated impermissible advertisements), in your AdSense "Competitive Ad Filter", to block those ads from displaying on your article web pages. I did that, but soon realized, as I observed and monitored the ads displaying on my article pages, that there are tons of such 'questionable' websites out there that just keep popping up out of nowhere each day, and that, observing them all the time and putting them in my Competitive Ad Filter would take up all of my free time. Not to mention this filter allows only up to 200 websites. To be specific, since my articles (totaling less than 30) are mostly Islamic in nature (peppered with the terms 'Muslim' and 'Islam'), the ads displaying on them take clicking users to websites inviting to Christianity or some other religion ("Find your religion today!") or those providing online Muslim personals/dating services. That put my guard up and I no longer felt excited as the clicks brought in more cents. My articles were actually helping take readers towards misguidance! And paying me for this "service"!

I am incessantly thankful for having online access to scholars who answer questions related to the latest cyber trends. Quoted below is part of an answer to a question related to the permissibility of signing up for the Google AdSense program:

The basic principle is that it is not permissible to sign up for these advertising programs unless one can be certain that the sites advertised are sound and are free of haram things, because it is not permissible to advertise, promote or help to spread evil.

Allah says (interpretation of the meaning):

"Help you one another in Al‑Birr and At‑Taqwa (virtue, righteousness and piety); but do not help one another in sin and transgression. And fear Allah. Verily, Allaah is Severe in punishment"

[Al-Ma'idah 5:2]

And the Prophet (peace and blessings of Allah be upon him) said: "Whoever calls others to guidance will have a reward like the rewards of those who follow him, without that detracting from their reward in any way. And whoever calls others to misguidance will have a burden of sin like the burden of those who follow him, without that detracting from their burden in any way."

[Muslim: 4832]

If the matter is as you describe, and most of the ads that will be placed on your site are for teaching languages and the like, then we hope that there will be nothing wrong with you signing up for this program, especially since you need the money.

You have to block the ads that go against shar'i rulings. If you are unable to do that, and these ads appear on your site against your wishes, then you have to leave this service because otherwise you will be a partner in spreading and propagating haram.

Source: IslamQA.com: Question Reference No. 101806

Well, if your eyebrow was cocked up till now, perhaps the above scholarly opinion might have made things a bit clearer. As for the fact that not all ads on which users click are actually impermissible/haram, but rather, some are permissible and some are not - that is, in fact, very true. However, how can an AdSense user ever know which clicks generated halal revenue, and which generated haram? As Muslims, we all know that, regarding matters which fall into such a "mushbooh" (doubted) category, it is best to be on the safe side, as indicated by the hadith of Prophet Muhammad [صلی اللہ علیہ وسلم] quoted below, where he said:

"The halal is clear and the haram is clear. Between the two there are doubtful matters concerning which, people do not know, whether they are halal or haram. One who avoids them in order to safeguard his religion and his honor is safe, while if someone engages in a part of them he may be doing something haram, like one who grazes his animals near the hima (the grounds reserved for animals belonging to the King which are out of bounds for others' animals); it is thus quite likely that some of his animals will stray into it. Truly, every king has a hima, and the hima of Allah is what He has prohibited. So Beware, in the body there is a piece of flesh: if it is good, the whole body is good; if it is corrupt, the whole body is corrupt, and behold, it is the heart."

[Al-Bukhari & Muslim]

As for the revenue that Muslim bloggers earn through AdSense; knowing that there is a very high chance of it being mixed with impermissible income, how should the money be dispensed with? Can we use it for operations maintenance for our websites? Should we dispose it off by giving to the poor (without hoping for any reward)? Should it be used to buy meat to feed wild animals? Or should it, literally, be thrown away? Or better yet, just not collected i.e. the check can be torn up, or the Western Union payment passed up?

I'd really be interested to hear the opinions of our Shuyookh and other, more experienced Muslim bloggers regarding this issue.

Since a great (and growing) percentage of online bloggers and users is Muslim, alhamdulillah, we can just not chuck something away without actually trying to be proactive enough to devise and promote halal alternatives to it. That is where still-new services such as the Muslim Ad Network and halalads come in. I must admit and profess my ignorance here, though. I do not really know what these services are about, in-depth, except their face-value i.e. they are offering Muslims a chance to display Muslim ads on their blogs and websites. Any information that readers can offer on their validity will be greatly appreciated.

In the end, I must say, as a very concerned AdSense user, I'd jump at the opportunity to have the Google ads displaying in my articles become a 100% halal! Just for the sake of clarity, this personal blog of mine thankfully does not display AdSense ads, but those of my articles that have been irrevocably published on the website howtodothings.com, do. In fact, when Google AdSense crawls my articles, most of which are mostly faith-related, it picks up keywords related to religion/faith/belief etc. and, as a result, displays ads of other religions (e.g those calling towards Scientology or Christianity) within my articles’ text body! Even if I do not collect my AdSense payment, I will still have those ads being displayed on my article pages, and will therefore be partly responsible for driving user traffic towards the websites advertising them (some of which, I reiterate, call away from Islam - as they are based on other religions - because my "Islamic" articles automate Google Adsense to display only "religion"-related ads within them).

I ask Allah to keep us safe from spreading evil on the web.

My uncle very generously sent us a huge chocolate cake on Chand Raat this Eid. The morning after Eid day, when we were still asleep, a 4-year-old munchkin made her way to the fridge and *tried* to cut herself a slice. Notice the stains of little chocolate-covered hands on the box:

The cake died a slow death: by slaughter!

Usually, I do not share my children’s pictures online, due to personal reasons regarding privacy. However, Eid is special and I am making a rare exception here (please do not expect this to become a regular feature!). Below is the result of some hopeless tries at getting my younger hyperactive tot to stand still for a pose on Eid afternoon:

A trip to Bundoo Khan last night was fun. I love the food at this place:

Eid Mubarak!

Taqabbal Allahu minnaa wa minkum.

Ramadan, the month of the Quran, has passed like a whirlwind as usual, with just a bit less than a third of it left already. Now we haplessly watch the days and nights interchange with quick succession, with our routines having set in, and our eating and sleep patterns following a comfortable schedule. We zealously look forward to the last ashrah’s five odd nights, in hopes of having our sins forgiven and our supplications granted for the coming year. However, there are some of us who find themselves quelling an innate guilt of not having lived up to the resolutions regarding daily goals of Quran reading, recitation and reflection that we made before this month started.

When we could not keep up with the half, one, or over one juz of Quran reading per day that we had ambitiously promised ourselves to do during Ramadan, we gave up and left it altogether. However, this is not the right attitude, because the Quran was not meant to be finished in a hurry anyway.

“And recite the Qur'an in slow, measured rhythmic tones.” [Surah Al-Muzammil 73:4]

We should remind ourselves that so many of the Prophet’s companions died before the Quran’s revelation was even complete i.e. they did not even get the opportunity to “finish” it during their lives. The Prophet Muhammad [صلی اللہ علیہ وسلم] also received the revelation of the Quran in stages that followed an erratic and unpredictable schedule spanning more than two decades! The reasons for this gradual, step-by-step revelation as opposed to one, complete swoop (as in the case of the Torah), is:

“Thus (is it revealed), that We may strengthen your heart thereby, and We have rehearsed it to you in slow, well-arranged stages, gradually.” [Surah Al-Furqan - 25:32]

Granted, we live in an era when the entire Quran is ensconced in the hearts of millions of Muslims already, so we should focus on completing it during Ramadan, as was the action of Prophet Muhammad [صلی اللہ علیہ وسلم], who revised it each year in its entirety with the Archangel Jibreel during Ramadan.

Let us be realistic however; we may try your best, but we still might not finish it. The next best option would be to utilize the amazing gift of technology for our spiritual benefit for the rest of the month, as an aid towards revising the whole Quran, in case we cannot finish its recitation or reading on our own. Remember that the rewards of each activity might not be the same, but at least they will keep us tied to the Book for the rest of the month, which is better than having given up on its recitation altogether:

Internet:

Open up the Quran on a website such as Quran Flash or Quran Explorer, turn on the audio of a particular Surah and follow the words with your eyes, reading silently with your lips moving, as the Qari recites it. You will be able to enjoy the spiritual effect of recitation by reading the Divine verses while listening to them.

Dedicate a few minutes you can easily afford for this activity every day (even as few as ten!), and enjoy this time of reflection. You can cover all of your “favorite” portions of the Quran this way i.e. those verses that especially touch your heart when you listen to them. Menstruating women too, can remain bonded with the Quran during Ramadan via this activity.

Taraweeh:

If you have been going to taraweeh, or if you intend to go in the last five odd nights of Ramadan for Qiyam Al-Layl in the mosque, take a mushaf along with you, which you can hold during prayer and follow the Quran’s words with your eyes as the imam recites them.

Television:

If you can watch the channel on which the taraweeh from the Haramain is broadcast live in your home, sit in front of it with a mushaf and follow as the imam recites. You can do this even with any other program that airs a portion of Quran recitation during the day.

CD Players:

If your commute to school, college or office is long, use the car’s tape/CD player or your iPod (if you use the tube or bus) to listen to the Quran while you travel. While listening is not the same in reward, as reading, or of course reciting it yourself, the effect of the recitation on the listener’s heart is nevertheless, still better and more worthy of being sought during Ramadan, than wasting the same time thinking random thoughts, twiddling thumbs, reading worldly literature, watching scenery, or dozing off.

Homemakers can also use a tape or CD player this way, for listening to the Quran while they do housework, especially while preparing iftar in the kitchen. This also prevents unnecessary conversation, such as gossip, between household members.

Last but not least, we all can reap the benefits of the last five odd nights of Ramadan by trying to intensify our reading, recitation and reflection on the Quran during the precious hours of these nights before suhoor. Intensive worship can easily help us accomplish two or three juz per night, if we are motivated enough.

Again, the point is not to rush through the Quran in order to be able to save face before our family and friends by telling them how much we covered. Rather, the goal is to absorb as much of the Quran as we can, with deep understanding and reflection, before this month of exclusive worship passes us by and we are left regretting how we could have cashed in on the chances to do more, yet gave up on ourselves too soon.

Last year, one of my college friends suddenly got in touch with me. “I want to see your children! Let’s get together with the whole gang!” she suggested. I agreed, thinking that it would be good to have a reunion with everyone after so many years, and especially following the births of several babies. Despite distinctly feeling that I no longer have much in common with these 'friends' due to my reversion to Islam since graduation, I did look forward to meeting up with them again, nevertheless.

The gathering took place and there were several awkward moments following the initial excited exchange of greetings, kisses-in-the-air and exclamations of delight at beholding each other’s children. The conversation soon began drifting around careers, domestic life and babies; with each person giving a detailed account of what she’d been up to all these years. With everyone pointedly ignoring my deep involvement with the Quran, and my da’wah-based teaching occupation since graduation; I nevertheless, playing the polite hostess, made sure everyone was well-served and comfortable. When I went into the kitchen to bring food to the table, I heard slivers of conversation filtering in through the door. Despite having progressed to managerial-level career positions boasting hefty paychecks in multinational companies, or having garnered several years of experience living with and adjusting to in-laws, it was disappointing to realize that my guests’ conversation still centered around exchange of gossip, catching up on rumors (mainly about others' flings/engagements/marriages/divorce), backbiting, and demeaning others by referring to them with derogatory, college-era nicknames.

The moment of truth, however, came for me while one of my friends was introducing us to her sister-in-law; she mentioned everyone’s occupation as part of their introduction (e.g preschool teacher, Manager at XYZ etc.), but when it was my turn, not a word was said about what I do, and she moved on after just mentioning my name. To me, the message conveyed was clear: ‘we do not want to discuss your association with Islamic religiosity’. They were interested only in the past person under the superficial cloth hijab whom they had known in college – they were not interested in what that person had morphed into, since then. The entire gathering went by without any mention of Allah, His Prophet [صلی اللہ علیہ وسلم], or His Deen Islam.

The ‘party’ left a bad taste in the mouth. I did not particularly feel insulted, but I had the distinct realization that whatever my relationship was with these people now, who once used to be such good “friends”, it was definitely not one for the sake of Allah. I had secretly hoped to be able to invite them towards Deen by meeting them, but what can one really say to a person when they literally become stiff and aloof, break off eye contact, and turn their head away, as soon as the conversation starts to drift towards the Quran, Sunnah or other aspects of Deen?

A few weeks later, I came across a hadith that opened my eyes and shook me to reality:

It was narrated from Abu Sa’eed al-Khudri [رضی اللّٰہُ عنہ] that the Messenger of Allah [صلی اللہ علیہ وسلم] said:

“Do not keep company with anyone but a believer, and do not let anyone eat your food except the one who is pious.”

[Tirmidhi: 2395, Abu Dawood: 4832]

Whatever excuse we might present to ourselves when we invite people over for a meal to our house, the fact remains that our Prophet Muhammad’s [صلی اللہ علیہ وسلم] words reign supreme; they could not be truer or wiser. He has strongly advised us Muslims to mingle only with believers and invite only those “friends” over for a meal who are pious and Allah-fearing. This, of course, applies to personal or family friends, not to people with whom we have ties of blood or familial kinship. It also leaves no doubt about eating with those of our ‘friends’ who never pray salah, or who openly mock the teachings of Islam, both in word and deed.

When is it that people invite someone over to their house for a meal? It is when they want to further ties with them, or become closer to them for some reason. Usually, business owners regularly invite their loyal clients over for dinner parties; or families negotiating a possible marriage invite each other to elaborate banquets at their homes in order to get to know each other and hence, facilitate an eventual acceptance of the proposal. Having a meal together strengthens an already existing bond; or in the case of strangers, helps in breaking the ice to get better acquainted.

Our Deen has thus stipulated that when Muslims invite guests over for a meal, the latter should be pious, i.e. those who fulfill Islam’s obligations and perhaps practice da’wah in some form or other. However, accepting invitations to meals from other Muslims comes with no such restrictions. This system is therefore, intended to work in such a way that pious people are invited more often to other Muslims’ houses, and in this way, these role models of Islam move around among the masses, eating with them and inspiring them to act upon Islam as well.

As Muslims, we should meet and be polite with everyone in general, without judging his or her actions as right or wrong. However, our close friendships that result in frequent company, especially over meals, should involve only those who are at least religiously-inclined enough to fulfill the faraid (obligations) of Islam. This is an effective way of ensuring that we do not slip down the slope of piety, but rather, keep climbing to higher ranks of righteousness. This is also good for our children, because they get to make friends with other children from like-minded families.

This year, I followed Prophet Muhammad’s advice. I invited only those sisters whom I know for the sake of Allah for a party, i.e. my colleagues at the organization where Islamic education is imparted, and some friends with whom I studied the Quran together under a teacher. These are sisters who at least follow the obligations of Islam, and hold Allah and His Prophet close to their hearts. Consequently, during every discussion at the gathering - be it related to motherhood, our husbands’ jobs, or our relationships with in-laws - Allah, the Quran or Prophet Muhammad’s ahadith were consistently referred to and remembered. The guests left giving me dua’s and blessings. After the party, I basked in an all-enveloping feeling of love and warmth, and felt my imaan level at a new high.

I was reminded of a beautiful hadith at that moment:

Abu Musa [رضی اللّٰہُ عنہ] reported Allah's Messenger [صلی اللہ علیہ وسلم] as saying:

“The similitude of good company and that of bad company is that of the owner of musk and that of the one (iron-smith) blowing bellows; the owner of musk would either offer you some free of charge, or you would buy it from him, or (at least) you would smell its pleasant fragrance; and as for the one who blows the bellows, he would either burn your clothes or you shall have to smell its repugnant smell.”

[Sahih Muslim: Book 32, Number 6361]

Alhamdulillah for our beautiful Deen: one that guides us in every aspect of life!

Finally, the winter seems to be signaling its imminent arrival. No one can be happier about the fall in temperatures than I, who have literally lost all hope in alternative sources of power, such as the flimsy UPS, the fuel-consuming and noisy generator, or the battery-operated pedestal fan. I have decided that the permanent solution to the ever-worsening power crisis in Karachi is patience and fortitude, the lesson taught to me by the Quran. Time management also comes in handy, because I save the tasks which I have the least time for, to get done when the power is out – such as slicing onions, cooking a meal, taking a shower, correcting my students’ assignments (yes, nowadays I am teaching a subject – The Muslim’s Belief), praying nafl prayers, or reading a book. When the power is there, I am usually in front of my computer.

They say that any kind of adversity works like a sieve or filter: it identifies the strong, steadfast and patient people – the kind that live at the level of sacrifice, shunning material wealth and luxuries, becoming leaders of nations, and providing others with hope and positivism – from the negative, cranky, greedy and selfish ones – the kind who are called “complainers” – they live only for themselves, striving hard day and night in the pursuit of personal wealth and luxury, who are the first to criticize others and the last to perform any big-hearted, selfless act of charity. The first concern of the latter before taking part in any endeavor is, “What’s in it for me?” and their last concern in life is, “How can I be of benefit to mankind at the highest level in the least possible time?”

Adverse situations identify the ones who stick it out, adhering to their principles and morals, bearing strife and difficulties for the sake of their beliefs, and rising as a beacon of light for others to emulate and find inspiration from. The complainers, on the other hand, are a perpetual burden on others, so much so that even their company and conversation proves to be a major turn-off for those around them, because they have nothing better to say except the usual complaining, cribbing and criticizing. When people leave their company, they feel despondent, hopeless and angry about the adversity everyone is faced with.

The past few years of decline and chaos in Pakistan, coupled with increasing immigration to foreign lands, has really identified these two kinds of people. Even those who have lived here for most part of their lives, receiving their education and having enjoyed a normal, safe family life here, can only “bash, bash Pakistan” when they visit from abroad. Any tryst with them is literally an audio recital of the problems and corruption prevalent in their birthplace. As for the problems they face in their lives abroad, such as the high cost of living, racial discrimination, loneliness (yes, this is a permanent part of their lives, even though they’ll never admit it), embarrassing run-ins with public displays of affection and nudity - not a peep is mentioned.

I for one have no intention of jumping ship, even with the perpetual risk of being blown away in a bomb blast or having my car or cell phone snatched at gunpoint. The reason? Do I love Pakistan? Not really. Am I a die-hard patriot? Again, not really. What is it, then? Actually, I have to list down some things I have observed which are the reason for this, and they are as follows:

• This country was acquired in the name of Islam, after a long, bitter struggle by thousands of people, most of who died in the process.
• This country is the place that forms my identity. No matter how many foreign passports I may acquire in my life, I can never change the fact that by ethnicity and place of birth, I am a core Pakistani.
• If the early-education system of this country was so pathetic, its doctors, MBA’s, engineers and scientists wouldn’t do so well after migrating abroad.
• This country is still quite young; much younger than others – it is only 51 years old, with the majority of its population dirt-poor, illiterate and uneducated. What can you expect from uneducated people, those on the verge of homelessness and famine, except chaos and mayhem, particularly if the educated ones abandon them for ‘better’ lives abroad?

In short, I see the positive side of the picture too, not just the negative side. And I refuse to acquiesce and accept hypocrisy in any form. Here are some things I do not agree with:

• Accusing the leaders of the country for lying and deceiving the masses, when you yourself lie through your nose and cheat others without batting an eyelid, in your personal life. Want examples? You don’t want to attend a wedding or dinner party. What do you say? “I got sick” or “I have to go somewhere else,” and that’s it. You lie. And then you sit in your comfy drawing room accusing the leaders of being corrupt.
• Making the pursuit and acquisition of material wealth and status the highest goal in life, and inculcating the same life-goals in your children’s minds from a very early age. Whether it is designer toys or clothes, eating out at only the expensive restaurants, or taking admission only in the prestigious, elite schools, what morals are you ingraining in your children? Then you accuse the leaders of the country for embezzling government funds for their personal benefit? They, too, are driven by avarice for material wealth rather than upright morals, just like you.
• Not doing anything in your life as a selfless community service to others. Whether it is monetary help to a poor family, taking out time to teach someone how to read, recite the Quran, or do their homework (without taking pay, mind you), or volunteering for a good cause that has no prestige or publicity factor attached to it – how many hours in a month do you give out to your community? Do you spend some time with the poor, talking to them about their problems, offering a shoulder to cry on, and a ray of hope? Do you give your money, your skills, or your time, free of cost, to anyone other than the well-off people in your social circle? And if you don’t, why do you crib about the country going to the dumps?

Maybe we just want to have our cake and eat it too – to enjoy the spoils of war without actually fighting or risking our lives before the enemy. We don’t want to be the “great” ones who selflessly give to others without expecting monetary returns, who pave the way for future success of the coming generations; we just want to be the ones who enjoy the safety, cleanliness and progressiveness of living in a developed nation.

Any nation, home, or business follows an upward curve of success. The lowest part of this curve is linear – that is, it takes humongous effort, hard work and sustained sacrifice over a period of time to initiate the latter stages of success, and the gains or profits are very low or non-existent at this beginning stage. The entity has to keep going simply on the foundation of upright belief and consistent hard work. However, once the initial hard work starts to pay off, the curve becomes more uphill, producing profits and gains with less time and effort. This “law of farm” applies to all human endeavors, and we can not escape this law, whether we are Muslim or non-believers, small households or large organizations. Every successful endeavor follows this law - be it the poor medical student burning the midnight oil, who twenty years later earns thousands per hour, or the struggling food vendor who one day owns an international restaurant-chain – everyone has to endure the throes of struggle, deprivation and hard work in order to taste the sweetness of success. There no cutting it any other way.

Nothing has driven this law home more in my life than the experience of motherhood. When I had my babies, I found a new respect for every older mother out there, because now I know what she had gone through to raise those kids who walk beside her today. The endless effort, sleeplessness, worry, concern, and physical hard work over each child make up the initial linear curve of the graph of motherhood. I realize, however, that once the first 2 or 3 years of sacrifice (per child) are past, things will get much easier with time, and Allah willing, I will enjoy the fruit of this hardship, (particularly the investment of the back-breaking rigors of pregnancy and delivery) for many years to come, without sacrificing this much effort or time.

Sadly, we as Pakistani’s are not willing to stick out this linear part of the progress graph for our country. We can not sacrifice our personal time, wealth, children or success, for the sake of this country’s progress. We therefore opt to (or for others, are forced to), live an expatriate, second-class-citizen life abroad, loving to hate Pakistan for all it promised us but failed to deliver. What we didn’t realize though, was that we had to rise above a life of material luxury, safety and lawfulness to endure the problems, in order to ensure a better, progressive future nation for our coming generations. Instead, we handed over our future generations, their young minds and talents, to other nations.

So when I lie in my bed in the afternoon swathed in perspiration, watching my sleeping children perspire through their clothes, as the ceiling fan refuses to move before the two-hour load-shedding time is up, yes, I DO consider “jumping ship”: the Middle East, Malaysia, UK, or North America? Then as I keep doing dhikr of Allah in the stifling heat, with the roar of neighborhood generators and the honking of horns by uneducated drivers breaking the silence, I feel tears well up in my eyes as I ask myself, “You too, Brutus?”

This year, the month of Ramadan has been very different. At first, I could not really fathom what it was that made me feel so differently this time, as I started to fast. Notwithstanding the hotter weather and the longer, thirst-laden hours, or the fact that having to handle two small kids has its own added stress – mental and physical – on the body. This Ramadan, for some odd reason, I have become more averse to eating the usual “Ramadan” food during the night. I have also become more prone to reclusion and reflection.

I find this change quite disconcerting, since most of the people around me seem to consider Ramadan a time to have fun and to go on an overeating binge. Whether its showing off a new outfit in the morning dars-e-Quran, and yet another one at night at the couture-studded taraweeh congregation, or eating a wider variety of delicacies at lavish iftar-party banquets, or enjoying owl-nights with cigarette-puffing, coffee-sipping repartee at expensive cafés in the guise of Sehri, people seem to find Ramadan a month to convert their days into nights, and vice versa.

I have been pondering a lot on what effect an individual’s abstention from eating, drinking and other bodily desires could have on his or her spiritual relationship with Allah. Why does it make us feel more close to Him, if we are starved or thirsty? This requirement of Islam – fasting 30 days every year if one physically can – goes to show that there is a direct relationship between what/how we eat, and our faith in Allah or our closeness to Him.

As a child, I would find it quite unbelievable that adults went for so many hours without food and drink; I found it even more amazing that they stood for long periods in devout prayer at night behind an imam – and that, too, in voluntary, supererogatory prayer; not obligatory prayer. It’s amazing how well the human body adapts to the strict discipline enforced on it by one’s sheer will.

I had not been in the habit of fasting when Ramadan started this year. This was because I had kept no supererogatory fasts since last Ramadan, because I was nursing my son. Therefore, in this Ramadan’s first two days, I felt my body protesting, as it went into food withdrawal and a changed eating routine. I had the customary headache, swoons of sleep that felt more like fainting spells, and deadly fatigue just before iftar. However, after just two days, I was well-adjusted to the new routine. I actually began to enjoy the light-headed feeling of an empty stomach, a more alert mind, and more time during the day (by not having to worry about what to eat for lunch). That left me more time to ponder on, and recite the Quran, when the children laid down for their afternoon nap. I felt that when the body’s connection with food and drink was deliberately severed for a few hours, the mind took over with more control, disciplining the human self into remembrance of Allah. It was an entirely new feeling!

In joint family households, as iftar time draws close, the hustle and bustle in the house, the noisy chatter of children, and the din created by the clinking of plates and glasses increases. Oil sizzles loudly as dollops of chickpea dough are dropped into the wok for frying pakoras. The bell rings as guests arrive, or if the driver delivers some last-minute groceries or jalebis from the nearest shop. Red sherbet is prepared with tinkling ice cubes floating in its midst. The entire family gathers around a “feast” laid out on the table, one so picture-perfect and colorful that it could be photographed for any local food magazine! As the adhaan sounds, dates are passed around. The next few minutes are spent relishing the fresh food and drink on the taste buds. Children’s demands are kept well in mind when preparing this lavish meal, as they love to have jalebi and red sherbet the most.

Until I got married, I used to follow the same iftar routine with my own family. I never questioned or protested it; and why would I? I loved the food and eating to my heart’s content before maghrib salah. However, as I mentioned above, as of late, I seem to have changed somewhat. I don’t even want to have pakoras or samosas in the last hour of the fast – the one in which hunger and thirst peak in magnitude. When the fast ends, I just want to have water, and nothing fried that could make me feel heavy and full.

I am thankful to Allah that I live in my own private space where everything is done according to my pleasure.  It is every woman’s innate passion to arrange, cook and schedule things her own way in her space, and Islam has endorsed this trait, by making her the “raa’in” (overseer) of her husband’s home. I prepare a very light iftar – and not all of it myself. My “significant other” prepares the fruit chaat for himself (as I don’t particularly like that dish), and sometimes the red sherbet too. This simple menu is laid out ten to fifteen minutes before sunset, so that the last precious minutes can be spent in making quiet and earnest du’a.

The actual iftar is, for me, a one-minute “meal” – a single date and a glass of tepid water – which I down in the state of readiness for prayer i.e with ablution done, and dupatta wrapped around my head. Within a minute, I am on my prayer mat, remembering The One for whom I spent the entire daylight time hungry, thirsty and tongue-tied (I have to restrain myself from shouting at the kids during fasting!). The other two (husband and daughter) sit and have their fruit, dates, jalebi’s and sherbet for a few more minutes, while the indignant toddler bellows for attention from his cot. After salah, I lay out the simple dinner (I cook just one thing, because after all, Ramadan is not supposed to be a month of “feasting”, is it?) which we all sample together. I say “sample”, because contrary to the pangs of hunger one feels during the day, everyone ends up eating much less than normal during Ramadan.

I might sound like a very extremist person. But the surprising part of it is, that I did not intend to become this way; it just happened gradually since the last few years, in which I have spent two Ramadan’s in the state of breastfeeding, and one in the state of early pregnancy, spending most of the day in bed with nausea and vomiting. Eventually I could not attend the couture-studded taraweeh that I loved so much, because of the demands of motherhood made on me by my infant(s) and toddler(s). I grudgingly stayed at home, and through this “predicament”, Allah opened the door to another one of His special treasures for me: the joy of praying night-prayer (Qiyaam al-layl) alone, in the last third of the night, with extended rukoo (bowing) and sujood (prostration).

I admit I might never have tried this prayer the way I did, had I continued to attend taraweeh with congregation, because of the hadith about the person who prays taraweeh and ends his prayer with the imam,being counted as having prayed the whole night. I did pray two units of night-prayer before Sehri sometimes, but not with the deep concentration that I pray it with now, when I do not have the backup of taraweeh to depend upon.

Eventually, by having to spend Ramadan a lot by myself due to motherhood, with no daur-e-Quran in the mornings, and no taraweeh in the evenings, I had to resort to stepping up my acts of worship in seclusion, trying hard to make up for the “loss” I felt I was suffering by not being able to partake in these congregational Ramadan activities. I remember Ramadan 2004, when I suffered breathlessness during my first trimester. Because of this shortness of breath, I could not recite the Qur’an (one juz/para per day) as I did before marriage. I felt like a major loser. Therefore, I started to listen to it by playing it on a tape player, with the Qur’an open before me in my hands. That was another experience altogether, because the recitation of Sheikh Saud Al-Shuraim (one of the past imam’s of Masjid Al-Haram) was clear and fast – he completed one juz in just half an hour! He recited some ayah’s in different ways, with sincere feeling and devotion, by listening to which I felt my heart tremble and quiver with the feelings of iman.

They used to say, "Life with one child is hard; with two, it’s just impossible". I do agree somewhat; however, my biggest concern is not being able to perform acts of worship with the relative ease with which I could before motherhood. The lack of distractions, the serenity, the concentration in salaah, the uninterrupted night sleep - I do miss that, but I console myself by thinking that this time shall pass soon. The children will be a bit older, and then I might be able to attend taraweeh, knowing that they won’t wander off or put their fingers inside the pedestal fans, insha’Allah!

As I said, I have become a bit of a recluse during Ramadan, because of motherhood. I stay at home for the children’s sake, and when they are asleep, I catch up on my worship – recitation, prayers, reading, and of course, writing Islamic articles. I try to listen to lectures online, but the 4-6 hour daily load-shedding has foiled those plans too!

Prophet Muhammad [صلى الله عليه و سلم] used to isolate himself from people during Ramadan, as did his Companions. Such was their focus in, and fervor for, personal, high-quality worship. The Prophet Muhammad [صلى الله عليه و سلم] also recited the entire Quran before Jibrael [علیہ السلام] once during Ramadan, and increased his worship in the last 10 days, staying in the mosque for I’tikaf and isolating himself in devotion and remembrance of Allah. If one reads up on the history of taraweeh prayer, one learns that the Prophet Muhammad [صلى الله عليه و سلم] prayed it with congregation for only three nights in early Ramadan, fearing that it might become obligatory on the ummah if he continued every night. Throughout his life, he prayed his night-prayer alone at home, in the last third of the night. However, to make it easy for Muslims, he encouraged them to pray taraweeh with the imam, and informed them that they’d be counted as praying the whole night if they did so.

This leaves room for the debate that praying at night during Ramadan, and especially for women, is a very flexible issue. Any fixed schedule of prayer should not be made incumbent on any individual; rather, each person should keep their obligatory duties and responsibilities in mind when performing acts of worship. Also, concentration and “khushoo” should be given due importance and priority. If one sleeps through daur-e-Quran or taraweeh, with their mind dwelling on their clothes being stitched for Eid, or on the designer bags, shoes and clothes on display at the gathering, then what have they achieved in reality?

For now, whenever I recall with longing my taraweeh nights in years of yore, with hours of standing in devotion listening to the Quran recitation, and the mornings spent in attending a Quran dars, I tell myself that had I still been unmarried or not a mother, I would never have experienced the joy of reflection, worship and devotion to Allah in reclusion during Ramadan, which, in reality is the actual essence of the month, as embodied by the actions of not only our Prophet Muhammad [صلى الله عليه و سلم], but also by his companions and the pious predecessors who succeeded them in the earlier Muslim generations. Their focus was on isolating themselves from people for devout worship, in order to reap the maximum spiritual rewards in this blessed month.

When one squeezes a citron, pure, pulpy juice flows out. O Allah! Make me survive this squeeze of motherhood. Make me effuse the best of service to you, your Deen and the rest of mankind.

Dining at fine restaurants anywhere in the world is considered a privilege. Many people who are well-traveled boast of having dined at the best eateries of the world, having had gourmet creations of the best chefs presented to them personally by courteous staff. There are rooftop restaurants, revolving restaurants, and one of my recent discoveries, in-the-sea restaurants - no, I don't mean those on ships - but those that serve guests their meals whilst the latter actually sit inside the ocean waters! It's even called "water dining". Take that concept a few steps further (or should I say, a few "feet under"), and you'll have an underwater restaurant offering "live" entertainment in the form of coral reefs, sting-rays and other underwater animals.

I admit that dining is one of my weaknesses. Most women can not resist splurging on clothes, shoes, handbags and makeup. I, on the other hand, couldn't be more indifferent to these things, but one thing I do like to spend on, is a good dining experience. It's not just about eating the food I like or having it at places where it's quality is painstakingly maintained over time, but also about the ambience of the restaurant and the overall feeling of pleasure that such an experiences provides, that keeps me wondering where I'll dine out next.

The country has been hit hard by the current price hike, with it becoming more and more difficult for the poor, illiterate working class to put food on the table (Table? What table? They eat on the bare floor). Paradoxically, more and more high-priced restaurants have sprouted up in the posh areas of late; and not just that, they do bustling business. The multinational food franchises keep opening up new branches, and people flock to overpriced eateries as if the food was being ladled out for free!

The English Daily that I read has now created special food sections where writers review restaurants as well as some delicious legendary food items sold in ancient parts of the local cities since decades. You’d think the local culture of dining out would have received the most fatal blow from the global food crisis? Nay, it has not even suffered a minute glitch!

For the reasons I’ve cited above, such as our poor countryfolk not having enough to eat even their daily fill, my inclination towards dining out too often has been greatly diminished. However, human tendencies and desires can not be curbed completely now, can they? For example, when one is hungry and tired, has enough money in one’s pocket – alhamdulillah – and wishes for a relaxing dining “experience” at one of the local spots by the sea; one that combines a good view of the crashing waves and great diversity of the palate offering a variety of local cuisine, one tends to give in to temptation, to just go live in the moment.

That is what I did recently. How can I describe eating at one of the most expensive places in the city? Rewarding? Enjoyable? Fulfilling? Well, it was good, yes, but when one looks at how much one spent compared to the transience of the joy and satisfaction obtained, one wonders if it really was worth it? I made some mental notes of my experience, classified below:

Reservations: Yes, when we asked to be seated where we could see the sea, we were told that all such spots were reserved already. That was disappointment number one. That is just one drawback of dining out at restaurants - the unexpected shortfalls can always happen. As for a view of the beautiful sea, for the enjoyment of which the restaurant has glass walls on one side, we lost out to those who had pre-planned their experience!

Limitations of Human Appetite: You’re attracted to all-you-can-eat buffets for the fact that there is an exhaustive variety of food as compared to a la carte menus, and one can eat as much as one wants…..or so one thinks. This is just a base desire of the human self, because health, happiness and a good post-meal feeling lies in eating a bit less than one’s desire. That is, when you feel like having just a bit more, you stop eating. However, marketers would be bankrupt today if it wasn’t for the desires of the human self – the wish-list that keeps cropping up in our hearts for things we’d like to have, just because we imagine them to be very fulfilling and pleasurable. When we do acquire them, however, the satisfaction or happiness is fleeting and short-lived. Once a few hours or days pass, we start wishing for something else, and enthusiastically commence our pursuit of it. This cycle repeats itself throughout our lives.

So yes, the food was great, but I could only have 3 or 4 items on the menu to my heart’s desire. After that, much as I wished that my stomach would allow it, I just did not want to eat anymore. So, the remaining dishes were left to the enjoyment of my imagination – i.e thinking how good they would have tasted had I been able to consume them!

Money-based Prestige and Honor: What people love about dining at five-star elite restaurants is the honorable welcome and “high-class” service they receive from the staff there. The smiling, formally-dressed, hospitable manager asking you to take your seats; the uniformed waiters running at your beck and call; their mutual enthusiasm for your satisfaction as a customer. Why do they honor us when we enter their doorstep? Is it because they respect us for who we are? No – it’s only the dough in our pockets that “buys” us this ‘honorable’ treatment. Imagine telling the waiter when he seats us at the table and hands us the menu-card, “I really love your restaurant, service and food. However, I do not have money on me right now with which I could pay for it. Now, could I have the………..?” Can you imagine what would happen to the smile on your host’s face? Would you still be served food, or allowed to sit there for even a minute longer, for that matter?

Anyway, after it was all over; that is – I had eaten to my “heart’s content” and had the wonderful dining experience that I had pursued, I sighed about the short-lived and transient nature of joy in the life of this world. I realized that very few people in my city and country could afford what I had just bought - a dining experience worth its weight in gold (for them, that is). And yet, was it what I had imagined it to be when I started out on my urge to eat out?

I closed my eyes and imagined a place Allah has promised for the Believers, the ones He is pleased with. A place where the criterion for honor and prestige is not money, but the approval and rida of the Creator; where joy and pleasure is not fleeting, but permanent, resounding, and untainted with human reservations; where the desires can be fulfilled to the heart and soul’s content, leaving no doubts, complains, or dearth for more. Where the joy never ends, and regret or pain never starts.

And because they were patient and constant, He will reward them with a Garden and (garments of) silk.
Reclining in the (Garden) on raised thrones, they will see there neither the sun's (excessive heat) nor (the moon's) excessive cold.
And the shades of the (Garden) will come low over them, and the bunches (of fruit) there, will hang low in humility.
And amongst them will be passed round vessels of silver and goblets of crystal,-
Crystal-clear, made of silver: they will determine the measure thereof (according to their wishes).
And they will be given to drink there of a Cup (of Wine) mixed with Zanjabil,-
A fountain there, called Salsabil.
And round about them will (serve) youths of perpetual (freshness): If you looked at them, you would think them scattered Pearls.
And when you look, it is there you’ll see a Bliss and a Realm Magnificent.
Upon them will be green Garments of fine silk and heavy brocade, and they will be adorned with Bracelets of silver; and their Lord will give to them to drink of a Wine Pure and Holy.
"Verily this is a Reward for you, and your Endeavour is accepted and recognized."
[Surah Al-Insan: 11 - 22]

And We shall bestow on them, of fruit and meat, anything they shall desire.
They shall there exchange, one with another, a (loving) cup free of frivolity, free of all taint of ill.
Round about them will serve, (devoted) to them, young male servants (handsome) as Pearls well-guarded.

[Surah Al-Tur: 22 - 24]

I remember watching Oprah Winfrey's show more than a decade ago, in which a woman was constantly talking about how depressed she was at having just turned thirty. According to her, she spent the whole day crying, and canceled all her plans with her family. She kept saying, "I just want to be twenty one!". I was in my late teens then, and I was quite struck by the fact that turning thirty could be so traumatic for anyone.

Well, I will be turning thirty soon, insha'Allah. And I am not at all depressed about it! I have, on the contrary, actually come to like my grown-up status. There are things you can do when you are thirty or above, that you can not do during your teenage years or even your twenties. There are many positive aspects of hitting this age, like the ones I've highlighted below:

Physical and Financial Independence

Most thirty-year-olds are living independently from their parents, whether single or married. It's wonderful to be able to do your own thing, your way. Contrast that to coming home at the age of 16 in your ill-fitting school uniform, to find your bedroom's furniture arrangement changed without your prior consent, or something removed or added. Any protests fall on deaf ears, as, well, Ammi Jee always had her way back then. Well, now she doesn't. So if you are a budding artist having your own studio with wacky-colored walls and creative raw material sprawled everywhere, or a passionate wannabe chef arranging your spices and ingredients in your kitchen cabinets the way you desire, or an Internet junkie like myself, having a small corner in the house with a computer and 24-hour Internet connection on which no one stops you from browsing for hours on end, being thirty does bring in its advantages, particularly in the realm of personal freedom and privacy.

The same goes for modes of entertainment, hanging out with friends, or traveling. In your teens and twenties, you always had arguments with your parents about where you could go for how long, or which friend you could hang out with at which restaurant, or whether you could take the car by yourself. "Ammi, can I go to XYZ's house and stay there till 11:00 p.m?" or "Ammi, can I have five hundred rupees for new shoes for my friend's wedding?" Well, at thirty, not only do you have more money in your wallet, in addition to your own bank account and personal car, but you can also spend it as you wish, without taking prior permission. You can stay out for as long as you want, since for most women like myself, their husband is more a friend than a figure of authority; so after marriage, it's a relief to know that, instead of requiring you to seek his permission, hubby dear is more than willing to instead, eagerly accompany you on a late-night sprint to the local ice cream joint just to have cold coffee! Stretch that to flying off to another country or city for a vacation. Whether single or married, it's fun to be able to afford such a trip, and to travel without having to seek elders' approval for each and every step, from where to put your tickets, to what clothes to pack in which suitcase!

Freedom of Choice

Whether it's your favorite meal at a local restaurant, or the color, texture and design of clothes you want to make for yourself, you no longer rely on Ammi to decide what suits you best.  During your teens or twenties, you had those moments of indecision while making clothes, about what would look better on you or last longer. Now, having years of experience under your belt, you know what you want, where to get it from, and for how much. And it feels great to be able to make your own choices without elders always making decisions for you! Anybody who has got married would know about the endless arguments one has with one’s immediate family regarding the color of clothes, the type of jewelry, the size of the trousseau, the menu at the wedding reception, and the level of simplicity of the whole affair. At thirty, even if the bride is getting married, she’s old enough to be allowed to make her own choices. Hopefully, that is.

Marriage and Parenthood

More often than not, a thirty-year-old man or woman is married, and a parent to an infant or toddler. These two events in life are one of the most anticipated and harried-over changes and adjustments that any individual has to make. Every unmarried teenager or twenty-something dreams or wonders about who he or she will marry, how many children they will have, and where/how they will live after marriage. One agonizes over proposals and stresses about the uncertainty of one’s marital future. That wastes a lot of precious time, in my opinion, and causes mental anxiety – i.e not knowing who one will settle down with.

Well, at thirty, now that one has married their “other half”, had the zillion precursory arguments with them as a shortcut to getting to know them (both spouses see each other’s best side before the rukhsati, and the worst after it!) and faced the harsh realities of married life, one no longer wastes time dreaming what marriage will be like, and who they’ll tie the knot with. In other words, they have crash-landed to Earth! By thirty, one has settled into an amiable, comforting companionship and close friendship with their spouse, the kind that numbs any blow that life may deal to either one. Now, the uncertainty has paved way to comfort and stability.

Moreover, at thirty, one has experienced the unbelievable transition into parenthood and felt the tremendous pain, satisfaction and joy of having a baby: the nausea and vomits, the physical exertion, the sleepless nights and seemingly incessant diaper-changing; the first word, the first steps, the first day at school - all the bittersweet moments full of tears and laughter.

So, been there, done that. Now, no more idling away and dreaming; on with real life.

Settlement in one's chosen career path

Most thirty-year-olds are settled into their chosen careers, which might not match their degrees and qualifications. I know so many people who have moved out of their chosen fields of Computer Science or Engineering, to migrate to Corporate Finance, Human Resource, or other areas. I, too, am one such individual. At thirty, you have “found” yourself; you know what you want to achieve in life, what you enjoy doing, and how you want to spend your time. And you don’t take instructions from anyone about this decision.

Mental Maturity and Decision-Making Prowess

Gone are the days of fumbling, stuttering awkwardness; of not knowing what to say to older people at boring dinner parties; of escaping from heated drawing-room discussions on politics to seek relief in aimless, childish chatting on mirc and ICQ. Now that we're thirty, we have matured enough to be able to not just have a sound grasp on global issues but to also have credible opinions on them.

Forbearance and Resilience

Having seen a decade or so of crashing dreams, lost goals, disappointments, rejections by organizations, betrayals by old friends, and let-downs by relatives and in-laws, people aged thirty possess some scraps of age-related wisdom and considerable know-how of the big, bad world out there – the one filled with all kinds of people. Gone is the immature idealism and the naïveté of a hormone-charged teenager. By thirty, you have shed your “crowd” of superficial hang-on’s – the so-called 'friends' who called you or spoke to just to be part of a crowd that hangs out at hot spots to “chill” – and the insincere friends, the ones who attended your wedding just to have fun at the dholki’s and mehndi’s, and were nowhere in sight at the walima reception! At thirty one is thankfully left with only those sincere buddies who love and appreciate you not because they want to have a good time in your company, but because of who you are to them. It’s so comforting to know that the friends one has at one’s side at the age of thirty are, by and large, sincere well-wishers.

So, depressed about no longer being among the “young and restless”? Stop brooding, and get up to enjoy the older-age benefits and perks! You are now old enough to set rules in your home (no soft drinks!) but young enough to break them after the kids go to sleep (“Ah, chilled Pepsi on the rocks!”). You are old enough to discipline your children or subordinate employees, but young enough to run through the waves in the ocean or on the wet grass in the rain. You are old enough to afford the best designer wear, but young enough to actually look good in it! You are old enough to take your kids out for ice cream alone in the evening, but young enough to go ahead and enjoy a Popsicle with them. And, for the women: at thirty, you are old and endowed enough to wear sari’s at weddings, but young enough to still look hot in a kurti and capri’s!

Vive THIRTY!

How a society functions depends on it's dwellers' mind-set. You can make all the rules and laws you want, but it's the people and what they believe deep in their hearts that produce the actual results. Media - books, newspapers, magazines, television, Internet - contribute greatly in either rejecting or reinforcing society's long-held myths, ideas and stereotypes. It's a two-way road actually. What the media shows is a reflection of society; and when it shows it, it further reinforces those beliefs.

In a country where majority of the population is illiterate i.e they can not even read, mass media is required for ensuring that something is communicated to them effectively. Marketers and advertisers have just one major aim as far as using the media to reach this illiterate majority goes: ensuring it buys the product and/or service on sale. They therefore use spectacular images, music and subliminal messaging in their television advertisements to garner the audience's attention. Be it a mobile phone or a one-rupee candy, the tactic employed is the same.

Now it's been over two decades since I've been viewing advertisements on TV; they usually caught my eye for the colors, situational characteristics, quality and choreography employed in their production. Of late however, its the underlying stereotyped ideas being promoted via these advertisements that do more to engage my attention - or, should I say - my indignation. Maybe it has got to do with the fact that now I am not such a happy-go-lucky, gum-chewing youngster anymore. The big Thirty-O stares me in the face a quarter of a year from now. I guess, as the hair starts to whiten and the hormones calm down a bit, the brain starts to work a bit more efficiently. Even though I have intentionally not kept a TV at home, just 20 minutes of random viewing at anyone else's house fills me in with the head-whirling advertisement bombardment more than amply (I rest my case).

Now let's get the stats right: more than 50% of any country's population is female. In Pakistan, for most part of the day, television is viewed mostly by the female population - the stay-at-home wives, mothers, mothers-in-law, grandmothers, and house-maids, particularly in the time-slot of 9 a.m to 5 p.m. Consequently, most of the content broadcast in this time interval is targeted at this predominantly female audience. It's no wonder then, that cooking shows and home-centered programs rule the roost.

In ads promoting cooking oil, tea, or even dishwashing detergent - the basic backdrop always remains the same. A young, exquisitely-dressed woman is shown in the kitchen, hovering over a pot on the stove, or even worse - in this age of automatic washing machines - loading her washer with a huge pile of laundry in the middle of her lawn. As she swirls around and gives the viewers a huge smile, singing the praises of the said product, we get a nice view of her assets. In ads promoting brands of tea, this pretty young lady serves her family cups of tea on a tray. And who is her "family"? A father-in-law, mother-in-law, a husband and children - the scenario is same in every advertisement. If the ad is selling a cooking oil, it shows this family seated around a huge dining table, as super-mom/wife/bahu lays the table with steaming dishes. In the end, she convinces the viewers how she gets extra love, acceptance and praise by her "family" because of her delicious culinary skills. One particular detergent ad showed a husband lauding his wife for successfully removing the stains of dirt off his shirt, while she winked at the viewers and admitted that the detergent did it. Another ad showed a prospective mother-in-law intentionally dropping in to visit her son's fiance very early in the morning, in order to see the latter's "saleeqa" of keeping house. The ad showed the frazzled daughter-in-law scurrying to clean up the kitchen before the "Aunty" entered the house. When the latter saw the gleaming dishes next to the sink (yeah, the ad was that of a dishwashing soap), she looked at her prospective 'bahu' with approval. The 'bahu' sighed with relief.

Before I go on to discuss some even more degrading advertisements, I must highlight how all of them reinforce some fixed stereotypes of women in Pakistani society. One of these stereotypes is that a wife or daughter-in-law's primary duty after marriage is housekeeping, cooking, and serving her husband, children and in-laws - and not necessarily in that particular order.

Now how is every young, college-going girl to achieve this "Pakistani dream"? That is, how is she to bag an eligible bachelor in order to spend the rest of her life thus serving his family? Well, we have more advertisements telling us how.

Top of the list: fairness and beauty creams. 'Use this cream, catch the eye of that hottie in your college or the one at the cousin's wedding or at the family-friend's dinner party, and voila! Out comes the engagement ring. You're all set'. It's one thing for this message to be made via imagery in ads, it's quite another to have some sickening dialogue going with it. I swear I have myself seen an ad in which a "dark" girl was shown in her college uniform, crying to herself and thinking "Who is going to marry me?" After using a certain turmeric-based cream, she eventually got married, and was shown all dolled-up and giggling away as her husband followed her around the house, staring like a love-sick puppy. If that wasn't enough, she turned towards the camera and said, "I know that every girl wants her husband to praise her looks and fall in love with her like this, so you also use this cream!"

*Barf*

I don't thread my eyebrows nor wear makeup in the house, and this is still the case with me. La haula wa laa quwatta illaa billah!!

The same message is given by shampoo advertisements; they are too innumerable to discuss here. In them, it's a flick of the long, lustrous hair that achieves the same husband-snag very effectively. Cut to the reality show "Shadi Online", in which single people seeking marriage, or "candidates", are aired on TV so that they can get proposals via the media. On every episode of this show, a married couple is also present to offer advice regarding success in marital life. Once, an ex-Pakistani film actress and her husband were present on the show. When she was asked the secret of a successful marriage, she promptly replied, "Every Pakistani/Muslim girl should think of her husband as her 'majazi khuda'". As for her husband, he had forbidden her from working in films after marriage, and now she even went to her mother's house after asking him first, as he, according to her own admission, did not "like her going out of the house". What was he doing professionally, by the way? Oh he was still doing films, prancing around on hilltops in the arms of young lovelies. That is his 'bread and butter' you know. Majazi Khuda's can do all that they want. It is a man's world.

Now I know what you must be thinking. I am the Hijabi-Niqabi promoting an Islamic way of life, and in Islam the husband is akin to a 'Majazi Khuda' right? Wrong! In Islam, there is NO god except Allah. The word "khuda" can never be used for any one besides Allah, let alone even consider some other created object or being as a 'khuda", even in one's heart. That amounts to 'shirk' or polytheism, which is one of the gravest sins. Now I know what hadith people refer to when they consider the "majazi khuda" concept to have originated in the religion of Islam. It's reproduced below:

The Prophet (peace and blessings of Allah be upon him) said: “If I were to command anyone to prostrate to anyone other than Allah, I would have commanded women to prostrate to their husbands. By the One in Whose hand is the soul of Muhammad, no woman can fulfil her duty towards Allah until she fulfils her duty towards her husband. If he asks her (for intimacy) even if she is on her camel saddle, she should not refuse." [Narrated by Ibn Majah, 1853; classed as Saheeh by al-Albaani in Saheeh Ibn Majah]

There are other authentic ahadith that endorse the greatness of the husband's rights upon his wife in Islam, particularly his right for intimacy. First and foremost, he has the right to be obeyed in all matters that do not go against Allah's commands. Secondly, he has the right to deny her permission for some matters - if the need so arises - such as her visiting people or places he does not approve of. Scholars have written many books and articles regarding a husband's and wife's mutual rights in Islam, and I don't intend to add to them. However, what I want to emphasize here, is that Muslim women should look at both sides of this picture, and not overlook the fact that they too, are not completely devoid of rights in this relationship. Some of their rights are: adequate food, shelter and clothing, and kind treatment. Yes, it is obligatory for a husband to provide all of these for his wife, and to treat her kindly. Now, about the advertisements promoting a wife's complete and devoted servitude.....

First of all, after most of my friends and I myself got married, a question that eventually arose - not surprisingly - for most of them, was whether or not they could dare to ask their husbands for separate accommodation. Even biological siblings and cousins get into tiffs when living in close proximity, so what can we expect from people who were hitherto complete strangers? The attitude rampant here in Pakistan is that it is a grave disrespect and rude disobedience on the son's part if he even thinks about living separately from his parents after his marriage. Consequently, it is a very commonly-witnessed, and quite sad, scenario in every other house having a joint family, that each married son is living in a single bedroom with his wife and up to 2, 3 children. It is not even considered unusual to find families living like this for years on end. As for the Islamic aspect of this issue, whether or not the daughter-in-law can live separately, you can find out by clicking here and here. Go ahead, you just might be surprised.

As mother of a son myself, I am strictly against the idea of expecting servitude from someone else's daughter, i.e wanting her to prepare breakfast, lunch, tea and dinner for me, while I lounge around issuing orders. Recently, a "well-wishing" close relative - an Aunty who is a grandmother, with most of her children married off - advised me very "sincerely" - "Your parents have separated Saad already?! They should not have done that. Instead of giving him a portion of his own, they should have kept him and his wife with them at first, so that she eats with them, lives with them, and goes upstairs only to sleep at night. That way, she will care for them later on. By giving her her own portion/kitchen beforehand, they are telling her that it's okay for her to live separately. Is that why parents raise sons? So that they leave them and live separately?"

I was speechless. I wanted to say, "Trust me, Aunty, I am NOT raising my son so that he and his wife become bonded labor in my "old age". They can do whatever they want, live where ever they want." However, in typical Aunty-style, anything I said in response was interrupted and brushed off. When I told my parents of this "sincere piece of advice", they couldn't fathom why someone would interfere in their lives to this extent. The precise reason why they built the slightly private upper portion of the house was so that no one would feel cramped for space or privacy in the future. As for me, now I fully understand why most people desire sons. The aunty said so in her own words....."is that why parents raise sons?" Maybe she has raised her many sons for this reason, but not me. To each their own...

As for the act of prostration to the husband, were it allowed....well, once upon a time, there was a young lad who dreamt that the sun, moon and eleven stars were prostrating to him; when he reached middle age and a position of authority in his state, both his parents and all of his 11 brothers did in fact prostrate to him i.e his dream came true. Who was he, you might wonder? He was Prophet Yusuf [peace be upon him]. It says so in the Quran, in Surah Yusuf:

"Behold! Yusuf said to his father: "O my father! I did see eleven stars and the sun and the moon: I saw them prostrate themselves to me!"" [Yusuf:4]

"And he (Yusuf) raised his parents high on the throne (of dignity), and they fell down in prostration, (all) before him." [Yusuf:100]

Just because his father, Prophet Yaqoob and his mother prostrated themselves to their son, didn't mean they thought of him as their "majazi khuda". Nope. It was an act denoting respect and acknowledgement of authority, because when this happened, Prophet Yusuf held a high post of the State Government. In all Shariah's of Divinely-revealed religions before Islam (i.e the undistorted monotheistic religions preached by all Prophets of Allah, from Noah, to Abraham, to Moses and Jesus [peace be upon them all]), "prostration" or the act of sajdah (which we now do in salah) to rulers, kings, and other position-holders of authority, was allowed, to show obedience and respect. Even "bowing" - as we do in rukoo - was allowed. Here is a hadith that proves this:

When Mu`adh Ibn Jabal, the Prophet's companion, came back from the Sham Area (Syria) to Madinah, he prostrated before the Prophet (peace be upon him) who asked him, "What is this, O, Muadh? " Muadh said, "I visited the Sham Area and witnessed them prostrate before their priests and patriarchs. I wished to myself that we did the same for you." The Prophet, peace be upon him, said, " Do not do it. However, if I were to order anyone to prostrate before anyone else besides Allah, I would have ordered the wife to prostrate before her husband. " [This is an authentic hadith collected in Sahih Ibn Majah]

Commentary: Imam Ibn Taimiyyah said, "How can it be concluded that prostrating to something indicates worship of it, when the Prophet said…" and he mentioned the hadith above, saying afterwards, "It is known that the Prophet did not say, ‘If I were to order anyone to worship anyone else…'"

The hadith above and it's commentary clearly state that the act of prostration exemplified for a wife to her husband is not that of worship (and hence, he is not to even remotely be considered a "god", as that would go against Islam's monotheistic message), but rather, of "ta'zeem" or honor/respect/subservience to authority.

Islam came and abolished this norm. From then on, bowing and prostrating was permitted only before Allah. Now it is quite noteworthy that a majority of the women in Pakistan clearly give their husband's the higher authority in their marriage, acknowledging his higher position, and molding themselves into just what he wants them to be. That is good, isn't it? Yes; but that is also where the problem starts...

"I don't know why he can't make his own dinner when he knows that I have 104 degree fever!" cries a lady relative over the phone, "he keeps asking me to give him his food." At another point in time, she had proudly claimed to me, "Not once, in our entire marriage, has [husband] had to go on a trip, be it night or day, that I wasn't in the kitchen preparing his meal for him before his departure. Not once has he left the house with me sleeping in bed."

Congratulations then. Go make him his food now, even in your high fever. Giddyap!

Another piece of advice dished out by another Aunty: "Ensure that your husband becomes so used to you, that he can not get by for even a single day without you!" I guess that would mean: iron his shirts, lay out his clothes for him before he goes to work, buy his clothes for him, run all his errands....perhaps even tie his shoe-laces for him? Right?

"[My husband] cooks better than me, that's why I don't let him cook."

Ah, this one hits the bull's eye! Insecurities-R-US, that's the bottom-line, isn't it? Insecurity. We think, weak that our faiths are, that if something happens to our breadwinner, our provision will be lessened or stopped. If we lose control over him, he will run after some twinky in his office, and we'll be kicked out of this wonderful house over which we currently rule. So, what's the best way to make sure this doesn't happen? Take care of the jackpot... I mean, the husband, and slog at the kitchen, laundromat or ironing board, while he devours eye-candy before the television set, secretly rolls his eyes at our constant nagging, and stifles his yawns during trips to the mall. My wife.....who's she? This lady is more like a cross between Nanny, Mom and a perfectionist control freak!

"Get me my fork," says a husband, without taking his eyes off the TV set, as he begins eating dinner at the table. Just as depicted in the colorful cooking oil advertisements, the entire table is laid out for him before he is summoned for dinner. He doesn't even look up long enough to see that his tired wife had just taken her seat at the table, after dutifully preparing for everyone in the family their fresh roti or paratha with her own hands. Sighing, but not saying a word, she goes back into the kitchen to fetch his fork. This scenario has been repeated every single day over the years, so by now the "majazi khuda" has lost the habit of having his wife at the table while he eats. His wife has made it clear by her persistent servitude that her position, while he eats, is in the kitchen, preparing his food, while he dines. The children don't help in laying the table or cleaning up after dinner either. Serving the entire family is the woman's job.

"From now on for the rest of your life, you have to do the khidmat of your husband and children", resonates an Aunty's advice in my ears. Is that a dong of doom I hear in the background? It sure sounds like it.

"What are you doing here?" asked a wide-eyed Aunty when she saw me living at my mother's house beyond the forty-day period after my son Abdullah's birth, "Why aren't you at your own home?" Before I could even start stuttering a response, one about a water problem and how it was difficult for me to climb four apartment floors with two children, she prods on, "What is your husband eating then? Oh, you must have cooked all his food for him and frozen it, right?". *Sigh* Why do people answer their own questions? And why do they ask such intrusive questions in the first place? The accusing look on her face even before listening to my reply was evidence enough of her opinion of me as a wife. As if to say, 'you-should-be-serving-your-husband-his-food-not-still-be-living-here'. Everyone knows my husband lived alone for years in Dubai and Canada before he got married. He didn't starve then, did he? So why would he be starving now, just because his wife is recovering postpartum?

"The way to a man's heart is through his (big, fat) stomach," insist mothers and aunts. Yes, we create our own monsters and chauvinists. Each man who roams the streets, offices and roads today, disrespecting women or treating them as inferior, was once a keen, observant child watching his mother mutely allow his father to mistreat her, deride her, or not give her due respect/importance in the household. By silently taking unfair treatment in stride, mothers teach their male children that it is perfectly alright to consider women inferior beings. By ladling out her adult son's food for him on his plate or fetching him a fork when he demands one, a mother teaches her son that this is a woman's status before a man, that of a personal valet, available at his beck and call. Forget about commanding respect, or demanding it.....do women today even deserve the respect of their male family members? Or do they act in a manner that invites everyone to walk all over them?

• There came Our messengers (angels) to Ibraham with glad tidings. They said, "Peace!" He answered, "Peace!" and hastened to entertain them with a roasted calf. [Surah Hud: 69]
• .....Abu Ayyub Al-Ansari slaughtered a young goat, cooked half and grilled the other half. He also asked his wife to bake, because she baked better, he said. When the food was ready, it was placed before the Prophet Muhammad and his two companions (Abu Bakr and Umar). The Prophet took a piece of meat and placed it in a loaf and said, "Abu Ayyub, take this to Fatimah. She has not tasted the like of this for days." When they had eaten and were satisfied, the Prophet said reflectively: "Bread and meat and busr and rutb!" Tears began to flow from his eyes as he continued: "This is a bountiful blessing about which you will be asked on the Day of Judgment. If such comes your way, put your hands to it and say, 'Bismillah' (In the name of God) and when you have finished say, 'Al hamdu lillah alladhee huwa ashba'na wa an'ama a layna (Praise be to God Who has given us enough and Who has bestowed his bounty on us). This is best."
• One day Umar Bin Al-Khattaab (during his rule as Caliph of Madina) noticed a tent pitched in an open space outside Madina. A person was sitting outside the tent, and some one inside the tent was groaning. Umar went to the man, greeted him, and wanted to know who he was. The man said that he was a man of the desert, and had come to Madina to wait on the Commander of the Faithful and seek his assistance. Umar next asked who was groaning inside the tent. The man said that inside the tent his wife was groaning with labor pains. He said that he was a stranger in Madina and did not know what to do. Umar  enquired whether he had any woman to look after the confinement of his wife. He said that there was none. Umar said, "Do not worry. I will make the necessary arrangements."
  Umar came home, and asked his wife Umm Kulsum to accompany him on a mission of service. Umm Kulsum got ready and took with her such things as might be needed for the purposes of confinement. Umar took with him some provisions for the purposes of cooking a meal. Umar returned to the camp with his wife. Umm Kulsum went inside the tent to attend to the woman in  pain, while Umar sat outside the tent with the Bedouin and began cooking some meals for him. After an hour or so, when the meals had been cooked, Umm Kulsum from inside the tent addressed Umar:  Amirul Mominin! Congratulate your guest on the birth of a son." Hearing this the Bedouin felt much embarrassed. Turning to Umar he said, "Amirul Mominin, why did you not reveal your identity? You have overwhelmed me with your benevolence." Umar put all his fears to rest saying: "That's all right. There is nothing to worry about. Thank God I have been of some service to you at the time of your need. You may come to me tomorrow and I will see what  can be done further to help you".

The above clearly show how Allah's Prophets and their companions helped their women in preparing food and serving it to guests. There is nothing wrong with men helping out in the kitchen, or eating simple food. Contrast the actions of our noble predecessors to those of the men depicted in modern advertisements, sitting at the dining table with pot bellies, waiting to be served like kings. One advertisement even showed a husband surveying the several dishes laid out before him, looking up to ask his wife, "...and my halwa?" No surprise that she promptly produced the steaming pot, which was supposed to be a surprise for him. Hmph!

So what am I advocating here? That women stop cooking meals in their homes? That men should instead do the honor? That everyone should employ a full-time cook? Well, all I am saying is, give cooking and eating the priority in life which it deserves. It's not as big a deal as it is made out to be. Cooking good dishes should not be the grand purpose - per se - of anyone's existence. And men are not superior to women (even if the husband has a degree of authority over his wife); therefore, women should not feel guilty if they "fail" to serve the men in their homes (fathers, husbands, brothers or sons) fresh meals, cooked by themselves, each and every day. Eating out or getting take-out is just fine. Or, as in my case, the husband can try his hand at cooking too. Aren't all the best chefs in the world men?

"I cooked a month's supply of food for my family before my trip abroad," comments an Aunty, "On my return, I discovered most of the food frozen as it was when I left. They had decided to eat out instead, in my absence..."

Take a hint, Aunty. And get a life!

It’s been less than a year since I moved to the so-called ‘posh’ locale of Zamzama Boulevard in Defence, Karachi. Known to be the local hub of elitist designer shops, boutiques, salons and upscale cafés, its property value is touted to be one of the highest in the city for commercial businesses. Before moving here to reside, I would only visit it to shop at quaint, elaborately-decorated enclaves boasting high-quality products and even more exorbitant price-tags, or to dine at famous cafés with friends; most notably, at the vintage Copper Kettle or the steak-house, Arizona Grill.

Moving here to reside has been a totally different experience! For starters, despite it’s notoriety for being one of the city’s ‘upscale’ localities, it is only so as far as the shops and commercial centers are concerned. For residential living, the cramped apartments are a far cry from anything even remotely luxurious (this entire narrative does not include Mall Square, mind you). Each “commercial lane” has two parts – the major lane that houses the entrances to all it’s shops (and hence the name “commercial” lane), and the back-lane or “chotti gali”, which is not marked by any board. The latter lane is too narrow for even a large vehicle to pass through, and is interspersed with dangerous, open manholes. Entrances to most apartment buildings are, unfortunately, from these “chotti gali’s” or dirt roads – which are not even tarred or cemented. Hence, anyone who’d want to visit a resident, would have to be explained the route to the apartment tediously, mostly by landmark shops at street- corners, because the building-numbers are also not legibly printed on the entrances. That person would have a further problem finding a suitable parking space for their vehicle. To further add to their turmoil, they’d have to hip-hop through leaking sewers, dumps of strewn trash, and lounging packs of wild dogs, to reach the apartment-building entrance. Since the back lanes have no street-lights to illuminate them, this entire process would be even more difficult at night.

For women like me, the challenge of reaching one’s apartment late at night after a dinner or wedding is intensified because of the array of shady characters patrolling the streets then. From the boldly dolled-up, daringly-dressed call-girls to the cigarette-smoking teenaged lads lurking mysteriously at street corners, to the groups of chai-wala and tandoor-wala Pathan’s that keep their “hotels” open till the wee hours (in order to service their not-so-rich clientele of laborers, beggars, janitors and drivers), this “posh” area definitely reeks insecurity and eeriness after 11 p.m.

The paradox is further intensified by the stark contrast of people found on the other side of the same lanes – on the bustling, main commercial ones, you’ll find groups of youngsters in laughing, chattering hordes, dressed to kill outside expensive eateries, alighting from fancy, music-booming cars. Outside the gaming areas, you’ll see young boys and men of all ages and shapes, hanging out and puffing on cigarettes. During the day-time, you’ll see the haute-couture-clad mummies with their tots in tow, alighting from the famed beauty salons, boutiques and chappal stores on Zamzama.

There is no dearth of hustle-bustle on Zamzama Boulevard. For residents, though, that means there is no peace and calm, except during the night. Even then, one’s slumber is disrupted by the barking and howling of the “carnivorous packs” that become active at night. The hoot of the night-man’s whistle as he solitarily patrols the streets is sometimes interjected with the screeching of tires and the honking of horns as a random cars cruises by.

Most of the commercial-building apartments on Zamzama have been rented out to businesses, which have converted them into offices. On the other hand, ironically, you’ll still find many families residing here since several years. Due to the lack of space, they hang their laundry from precariously-dangling strings outside their windows, amid the tangled webs of telephone and cable wires. On the side of the famous Zamzama Park, at around midday, one can see crowds of children emerging from the Government schools along the road. Simultaneously, abaya-clad young women emerge from the Madrassah Saeediyah that lies adjacent to the grand Zamzama Mosque. The orange suit-clad janitors of Defence sweep the roads and collect trash at around the same time, just as the market-place yawns, stretches and gets ready to start its business for the day.

The cheap labor that serves this posh locale is obtained from the nearby Neelum Colony. From the house-maids to the young lads who clean cars for menial wages, to the sweepers and construction-workers deployed night and day in building more commercial structures in the remaining nooks of Zamzama Boulevard, one is at times appalled to note the heart-wrenching poverty that drives these white-collar laborers form their homes each morning. Sitting next to trash-dumps, the barefoot toddlers and munchkins can be seen sifting through the debris for useful scraps. In the scorching heat of mid-afternoon, one sees emaciated people lying outside the boundary walls of Zamzama Park, on a bed of concrete, only a few feet away from whizzing fast cars, lost in deep sleep and oblivious to the risk to their lives from the nearby traffic. Further down, one sees families of paupers, two young parents and a pack of scrawny kids each, perched on the pavement and making do with a few slivers of roti and semi-filled bottles of water. Hand-to-mouth poverty, anyone?

The water situation for apartment-residents is, not surprisingly, miserable. Bought tankers and donkey-cart tanks are the standard means of supplying water to homes. If one or more apartment-units in a building fail to promptly make the monthly payment, the remaining, paying customers get to live without water in their taps for a few days. Since the overhead tank is a common one, tenants in rented apartments generously invite their friends and relatives to cohabit a bit too often, cashing in on the ‘ample’ water-tank above by washing the entire clan’s laundry each day, leaving the remaining permanent residents without water even for one family’s laundry load.

After knowing all this, now the readers can see why a scornful expression appears on my face when I give the one-word response of “Zamzama” to people when they ask me: “Where do you live?” and receive excited exclamations of: “Lucky you! You’re near all the ‘cool’ places in Karachi!” I find it so ironic that residing in this so-called “posh” area has, conversely, taught me the sheer value of the most basic amenities of life, such as water, security, open space, cleanliness, peace of mind, and a familial neighborhood.

Anyone who has a child knows what it means when you have to decide on a school. This is all the more mentally exhausting in urban, upper middle-class Pakistan, of late. The focus on early schooling (preschools), when the child is just a toddler, has taken the world of educated socialites by storm. Now, the child's school is just as much of a prestige point a.k.a status symbol as is designer couture. Either its hot ,or its not.

The musing begins during pregnancy, when other mothers recommend the pregnant mother-to-be to start her school search early, and to get her baby registered in all the "good' private schools well-in-advance. The first-born's school is considered important, because if he/she makes it into a high-class school, the siblings to follow later on will not have a problem getting into it either.

I got the first taste of this frenzy when I used to go to Dr Saadia Virk Rizvi's clinic while expecting A'ishah. I am, as is known, quite complacent about my kids' schooling up till now: I believe that the actual, most important schooling begins and ends at home. The official school is more of an environment for development of the child's gross motor and social skills. My opinion aside, I found the conversations at Dr Saadia's clinic quite entertaining. Modern mom's would be fretting over their child's admissions. I hadn't seen people more desperate for any acquisition like this, except perhaps for a US visa!

With time, I have figured out that some Montessori schools pass their children on to specific primary schools. Hence, Samrahi's, Links or Pre-school Plus probably guarantee admission into the 'prestigious' Karachi Grammar School, Bay-View High School or The American School. Then there are the other 'high-class' institutions that come second, such as Frobel's and Foundation Public School. After these - does anyone care enough to be listening now? - come the cheap, tardy, mediocre schools that only the losers go to. Eh? (That last line was sarcasm, by the way). ;-)

A bit off the topic - I later realized that Dr Saadia Rizvi is herself somewhat of a status symbol. You should see her new clinic: it looks more like the drawing room of some Fashion Designer. It was even used for an extensive designer-wear fashion shoot for DAWN Images recently (I rest my case). Not that I have any problems with that as such, but I realized during my second pregnancy, when I consulted her again for the exact same reason (i.e her clinic at South City Hospital being very near my residence  - which is a factor to consider when you're pregnant and have to drive yourself!), that most of the ladies who consult Dr Saadia do so: (i) for the prestige factor, and (ii) because they are not particularly interested in delivering their babies painfully. Read: they prefer elective C-sections, which Dr Saadia is notorious for performing at the slightest pretext.

Perhaps I should save the subsequent change in my choice of hospital and gynecologist for another post. What I want to refer to here, is that the kind of ladies who came to Dr Saadia's clinic - and hence their obsession with getting their children into prestigious schools - were themselves residents of extremely upscale localities, donned in haute couture from head to toe, and probably completely "oblivious" of the contents of the pregnancy-related medical file which they clutched in their manicured hands. (When I used terms like foetal distress, dilatation, uterine rupture, amniotic fluid, primary breech, etc. people would ask me, "Are you a doctor?". That made me realize that not all women read up about pregnancy and birth. They just get dolled up, go to the gynecologist, and blindly accept her verdict of whether they need a C-section or not!). There's a derogatory slang word that comes to mind for such ladies, which I cringe from using, because I am not a *&$^ (another slang word used for a "mean woman"). Also because not ALL of them were like that. But most were, unfortunately. Consequently, I am not surprised that such ladies would be so desperate for their children's admissions into prestigious schools.

I don't care much for who wants what - because, to each his own - but something struck me about this whole Montessori thing. It all came down to: what do I want my child to be like as an adult? With whom do I want her to get along - a select few, or all kinds of people? Do I want prestige or quality education? Do I want to boast about my child's school at social gatherings, or do I want her to succeed at gaining knowledge? Is my child's school intended to be just a medal on the show-case of my social prestige? What attitude would I like her to have towards others in society, particularly poor and unfortunate children? And lastly, do I want to always be part of her education as her mother, or just hand her over to an institution, to mould into a pre-determined, branded and packaged end-product?

I hate making generalizations, but I know all sorts of mothers. The religious mothers who have placed their children in KGS, Links, American School, PSP or Frobels (what's the spelling of the name of this school anyway?) more out of family tradition than pursuit of prestige: because their older children or their husbands went there. Some have acquiesced to their husband's and in-laws' demands that their child go to these schools. I also know some not-so-religious mothers who have sent their children to the same schools. And, finally, there are the religious mothers who are adamant that the only school good enough for their children is an Islamic School.

There are two major Islamic schools in the making, whose staff I am personally acquainted with. They are coming under intense criticism from all and sundry, and I don't know why such fierce antagonism (read: propaganda) is being directed towards them. I for one, know that their intentions are very good. Perhaps the high number of enrolment in their institutions, and the rapid growth in their size and popularity indicates a new trend in society, a trend which their counterparts are not prone to like and welcome? Could it be that the prospect of bearded mullah's and hijabi-niqabi's, with their lines of little tots, actually gaining prestige, respect and economic strength in society is perceived as a "threat" to freedom? After all, they were up till now considered backward and uncivilized, symbolic of a lack of modernism and education. Weren't they? ;-) How could these "fundo's" start an Islamic School and get away with it?

A'ishah is, for now, enrolled in DA Junior Model School. Why? It's nearby, it has a uniform, its affordable, it has a big playground and a proper school building, it lacks the prestige symbol, and most importantly, it has ALL kinds of children in it. For me, my little princess will be the most beloved to me if she has a humble heart, a heart that realizes the enormous blessings bestowed on her by Allah, so that she never, EVER considers herself above anyone; a heart that realizes that true greatness is getting down on the ground and eating meals with the poor, holding hands with a child whose feet wear no shoes, running and laughing with other children regardless of what organizations their fathers work for or what clothes their mothers wear..

And if for these reasons, she is considered a "loser", so be it!

The pressure is ON! It started the day after my wedding (rukhsati). As soon as the daughter - the obstacle in the quest for the daughter-in-law - was packed off and delivered to her "true" home (Yeah right! Like she's not back the next morning)...the aunties started making suggestions on a new tangent:

"Ab Saad ki shaadi karain!"

You don't pause to breathe do you, AUNTY?

I mean, they really take the cake as far as holding the reins of other people's businesses go. If someone wants to get married or not, and when and how that is going to happen, should perhaps not be dictated by rotund ...err....khush-haal aunties. For the 3 years of my life after the day I turned 22, the eyes and eyebrows of these ladies would make coordinated movements, asking unspoken questions, whenever they would meet me at social gatherings: "Any news?" "Well? Are you still "working" for Al-Huda?" "Are you STILL at Al-Huda?" By this I mean all those times that they chose to spoke to me, in the futile hope of finally seeing me engaged, that is. At most gala's, I was - thankfully - ignored...perhaps they had given up on any prospects of my getting married because I chose to veil myself. *Shrug*

Now that that ordeal is over - meaning, I am married and I have kids - they couldn't care less whether I am working for Al-Huda or some Jewish intelligence agency. For them, I have achieved the grand aim of any Pakistani woman's life: husband and kids. Right after marriage, these aunties put girls through another ordeal - they start staring at her abdomen as the months pass (eventually asking questions like "Is everything alright? Doctor ko dikhaya?") - and then another one, if she fails to produce the "aulad-e-nareena" (male-gender baby). But wa lillahil hamd, all praises to Allah, that I was spared these two ordeals......and as for the second one: the pressure to produce a son or else be damned to a life of pity, this I have already blogged about before.

Anyway, this blog is less about these aunties and more about the guy who is at the receiving end of their attentions now. Now that there is this "eligible" bachelor in their midst, and the unspoken barrier (his unmarried sister) is out of the way, these aunties have started their search for his bride, with or without his consent. From the Al-Hudians, who, presuming that since his mother and sister observe hijab, they will want a hijabi wife for him, to the glam-queens who suggest all the dolled-up lovelies to him at weddings, to the ones who assume that he wants to marry a US citizen so that he can return to the land of plenty from which he has so "unfortunately" returned, all aunties just can not overlook his presence without mentioning the word "shaadi". Just because he has a job - and the unexpected attention it gets from female circles indicates that its a "good" job - and a house-portion in Defence (again, ditto for the portion), invoking ooh's and aah's of the "He's all set!" exclamations, doesn't necessarily mean that George Clooney is all-but-ready to import a bride. But hey, who's listening to what he is saying? 

I am literally expected to go bride-hunting with my mother, notwithstanding having been on the receiving end of that torture just 5-6 years ago. I can NOT imagine going into absolute strangers' houses, partaking from the lavish tea-trolley, scanning the female specimen up and down while I down the samosas and cake, and taking her interview.....no thanks...not me. How can I dish out to others what I didn't like for myself? I can not forget the uneasy and mortifying feeling of having some stranger-aunty coming to "consider" you for her son. Sometimes they were accompanied by an equally interrogative daughter or sister. I have heard accounts of friends who went through these "meetings", only to be "rejected" on weird pretexts. Now, just because I am married, I am expected to shift gears and go into offensive mode? Sorry!

You might be wondering "well then, how will he get married?" I know many guys who got married without their mother-sister brigades invading people's homes with large-sized spectacles perched on their noses. They either chose someone they knew of themselves or it happened by some other means. When something is bound to happen, it happens one way or the other. Allah is not in need of the means to achieve the end. And marriage is not supposed to be a by-product of time: enter the twenties, time to get married! No, marriage can happen at different times for different people, depending on several factors that vary for all. So, whether someone is 21 or 35, a man or a woman, we can not stamp "available for matrimony" on their foreheads against their will.

He will get married when Allah wills. Period. Right now it's none of my business. All I do is pray for his future wife to always be happy in his home. Because at the end of the day, that is what's most important.