Daughters

One of the few things that I truly desire in this world is a daughter.  I hope that Inshallah one day, when I am happily married that I am blessed with at least one.  I think that this desire comes from my desire to have a sister.  I’ve never had a sister and so the way I see it, having a daughter would a good alternative. 

Its funny because the last few Jummas that I have gone to, I’ve been distracted  by the cute little daughters that the Uncle’s in front of me struggle to take control of.  They are just so cute.  Some of them will come in with their cute little hijabs on, getting wholly irritated when it doesn’t stay on their heads…when I see a little girl it just melts my heart. Everything about them; their hair, the way they cry and bug their parents, their innocence, their eyes, their smile, their laughter…just everything.

I frequently lay in bed and wonder what it would be like to have a daughter; how wonderful and colourful life would be.  I would just love to dress her up and decorate her with all the little girly things you can get at the store.  I just know that once I have a daughter, I’ll be grabbing every hair bow, every frock, every doll and anything else that baby girls play with.  I always picture myself taking her to the park or to Chucky Cheese’s and just watching her play and be happy.  I picture myself taking her to school on her first day, consoling her if she started crying and utterly missing her while I am at work.  I picture coming home after work and having her run up to me and hug and kiss me and tell me that she missed me.

I would love to watch as she grows and matures into a beautiful young woman, with her own ideas and accomplishments.  Frequently I can imagine having conversations about anything and everything; being a friend to her, having her confide in me, coming to me with her problems and concerns.  I imagine fighting with her, laughing with her, crying with her.  I imagine feeling crushed when something doesn’t go her way and feeling jubilant when everything goes her way.  I just imagine her…being.

I can’t wait until she is born.  I can’t wait until she starts crawling and walking.  I can’t wait until she begins to speak.  I can’t wait until she begins to develop her own thoughts and ideas.  I can’t wait until she grows up and gets married, has her own husband and kids.  I cannot wait until that one day where she realizes that she is truly happy. 

I consider daughters to be a gift from God.  They are like this little peice of heaven that God gives us to enjoy.  They are truly blessings of Allah.  Daughters become sisters, wives, mothers, grandmothers and in some cases, great grandmothers.  They keep humanity constant.  They bring life and happiness to a household.  They bring colour and goodwill, caring and love into a family. 

To this day, I cannot understand how people treat their daughters in the manner that they do.  All to frequently I hear of mothers and fathers treating their daughters as if they were a piece of meat, a slave or something that can be replaced.  Even as I write this post, I am speaking to a friend who is living in a poisonous environment at home.  I can’t understand these honour killings and how a father or the entire family can drive themselves to kill their daughters.  Perhaps I am naive.  Perhaps I will never understand it.  But everytime I hear a story like that, my heart breaks.  To do that to something that is so beautiful…its just heartbreaking.

I have already selected a list of names to consider for my daughter.  And as soon as I am in a position to do so, I will set up a little savings account for my daughter that I will give to her when she enters university.  I also want to set up a small savings account for her wedding.  There is a particular reason for this.  I once went to a wedding of this girl that I vaguely knew.  Sparing the details, her wedding ended up happening in their two bedroom townhouse in an area of the city that wasn’t the greatest.  Her mother was a sweetheart; one of the nicests and most endearing people I know.  Anyways, her daughter was having the wedding in their tiny little townhouse.  There were tires outside on the lawn.  The stairs were creaking when she came down.  There was hardly any room for us to sit.  There were spiders crawling on the carpet.  I can’t really describe it but it was just heartbreaking.  This Auntie did not deserve to have her daughter be married in the way she had.  And it wasn’t really her fault.  Circumstances were as such that they had no alternative.  I couldn’t bare to look at either Auntie or her daughter in the eye because I was embarrassed for them.  Again, it was utterly heartbreaking.  After that day, I vowed that I would never let me daughter go through something like this.  I vowed to save up money and give her the wedding of her dreams.

Even if I were to be denied every other desire for the rest of my life, I would consider my life complete to have even one daughter.  And Inshallah, I pray that Allah grants me this one wish of mine.

Amen.  

Ishq Ka Janaza

Dekh Ta Reh Gaya Mere Ishq Ka Janaza.
Samaj Mein Nahi Aata Kya Ho Gaya.
Phhir Ta Tha Mera Ishq, Khush
Aap Lipta Wa Hai Mere Samne, Khushq.

Janaza Ut Raha Hai Aab.
Namazain Par Li Hain
Duaen Maang Li Hain
Aab Tu Zameen Ho Ga Iss Ka Dewana
Mitti Ho Gi Is Ka Sung.

Ishq To Jawani Main Hi Ta
Jub Iss Ka Tumse Mil Na Hu Wa.
Aab To Iss Ka Kya Baan Na
Mitti Ka Yaar Baan Gaya.

Meri Ma, Heer Ne Kaha Tha
Ke Insaan Mar Sak Ta Hai
Par Ishq Kabi Nahi Marta.
Meri Ma Heer, Yeh Dekho!
Ishq Mera Dafan Ho Raha Hai!
Khuda Ki Marzi
Koi Nahi Rok Sak Ta.

Baitha Hua Hoon Mere Ishq Ki Kabar Ke Saath.
Dafan Ho Gaye Hain Woh Neche
Aanson Ruk Nahi Rahe
Shauk Se Bai Rahe Hain Aankon Se
Aur Tarap Ke Chalang Mar Rahe Hain Qabar Pe.

Yeh Hai Khoobi Zindaghi Ka
Ke Saaron Kay Le Aaj Eid Hai
Aur Mere Liye Qayamat.
Log Apne Aap Ko, Bhainon Aur Baition Ko Sajaa Rahe Hain
Aur Main Is Qabar Ko Sajaa Raha Hoon.  

Aab Kadam Le Raha Hoon Ghar Vapis.
Kya Kehna Iss Tufan Qayamat Ka
Aab To Barish Bhe Uss Ishq Ke Aankon Ki Chamak Lag Ne Wali Hai.
Kadamain Bhe Khali Aur Aawaara Ho Gaye Hain.
Jo Maza Woh Tha Ghar Vapis Jane Ka
Aab Lag Ne Lag Gaya Hai Zeher.

Ponch Gaya Hoon Aab Ghar
Khamoshiyat Ne Ghar Ko Ghar Bana Liya Hai
Aandhera Bitcha Wa Hai Chadar Ke Tarhan.
Ishq Ke Beghair Ghar Khali Ho Gaya Hai.
Ghar Khud Ban Gaya Hai Aik Qabarestan
Jidhar Har Jaga Yaadein Dafan Hoin We Hain.

Bistar Pe Laita Wa
Samaj Nahi Aati Ke Zamana Kidhar Se Kidhar Chala Gaya.
Aik Wakhat Chor Ke
Dusra Aaya.

Aur Dekh Ta Reh Gaya
Mere Ishq Ka Janaza

-mast malang

Happy New Year To All My Readers

By Virtue of Loyalty I wish to congratulate my readers on the arrival of the new year.  I started this blog one year ago this week and I did not contemplate that it would go so well.  My following is small, though growing and I wish I had more time to contribute more posts to it.  But as they say, quality is greater than quantity.  I know you guys desire more from me and Inshallah this coming year, I shall do my best to add to my little space as much as possible.  I thank each and every one of my readers from the bottom of my heart and wish each and every one of you a very happy new year.  Please remember me in your prayers and make dua for myself and my family. 

-mast malang

Remembering Raminder Dhadda

It was on this day today two years ago that a young woman of the age of 24 lost her life.  She was run down by a van that was heading down a one way street.  She was the city’s first Fatality of 2006.  She would have been 27 this January.  I didn’t know her.  In fact, when this terrible accident happened, I wasn’t even in the country.  I only learned about this tragedy when I got back home a month or so after the new year.  The nature of this incident rocked our city.  In a heartbeat, to every mother and father, she became a daughter.  To every brother she became a sister.  And to every sister, she became another sister.  To those that were blessed with an abundance of friends, she became a friend.  And to those that were friendless, she became a friend.  On January 1, we all became one.  Through the leaving of her soul, we were all connected and came together.

I feel compelled to write about her because more and more we hear about people that die on a day that is supposed to be one of joy and happiness.  It signifies the end to old ways and habits.  It signifies a fresh new start, a new beginning for everyone on this planet; serving as a sort of landmark on our journey in this life.  A day like today should not mark the death of a life, especially as one as vibrant as Raminder’s was.  We should all be mindful of the fact that life is something that is inherently fragile.  One minute our bodies could be full of life, full of ideas and energy.  Our blood could be flowing, heart pumping, neurons firing, cells going through mitosis and meiosis.  We could still be in the process of growing both mentally and physically and intellectually.  We could be making a difference in a person’s life without even knowing it.  We could love and be loved without even knowing it.  There could be so much going on that is connected to the rest of the world.  And it could all be over, just like that.  Thus is the brittle nature of life.

Let Raminder’s life be a reminder to us all that this new year, and every subsequent new year after, live the life that has been given to us to the fullest extent.  It is only because Raminder lived her life to the fullest everyday that it is here on this cold December night that a stranger, someone who did not know her is thinking of her.    

I know that a central tenant in Sikhism is reincarnation.  Let us pray that her soul in a new being makes as much a difference to the world as it did in her old being.  May she be united with God.

Raminder K. Dhadda –  January 29, 1981 – January 1, 2006

The Murder of Aqsa Parvez – Is This Islam?

I woke up today and was shocked to learn about the death of Ontario Teenager Aqsa Parvez.  Read about it here.  I was going to write a commentary on this whole situation but I found one here on WordPress that is pretty much bang on what I had in mind.  It can be found at The Discourses of a Highly Indebted Student.  I do, however, want to say this: We are living peacefully in Canada.  We are a vital part of Canadian society.  Criminal incidents that are related to religion harm all of us, not only Muslims but all Canadians.  Given the state of Islam today, these cases make it harder for us to be Muslims in our own countries.  I wish people that purported these crimes actually study Islam wholey and not just selectively learn bits and pieces.  But now, a daughter is dead, a friend is lost, a family is ruined forever.  This young girl will never be a daughter ever again.  She will never be a wife.  She will never be a mother.  She will never be a grandmother.  She will never be able to contribute her inherent good to her community, her society, her country. 

Innallaha Wa Inna Lillahi Rajioon. 

Oslo Mela, Javed Bashir and Atif Aslam

These clips that I am going to share for you here are pure gems.  The first artist featured here is Javed Bashir.  Currently he is the lead vocalist for the Pakistani band Mekhal Hassan Band.  Javed’s dad was a Qawaal himself and so Javed has been exposed to music his entire life.  Amazing voice.  The first two clips feature a Norwegian folk artist by the name of Sondre Bratland along side Bashir.  The last clip features Atif Aslam with a 2kx rendition of Mae Ni Main Kinnu Aakhan.  All these clips are from the Oslo Mela 2006 in Norway.  Hope you guys enjoy.

Raag Bhimpalasi on Sitar

When You Stole The Moon

You walk ever so softly on this earth
As if you are mischievously hiding from my love
With all the world’s happiness laughing
Trailing behind you.
I look out my window
And watch a white glow slowly travelling through the streets of my town.
Are those Tambourines I hear?
No.
They are the sounds of the songs sung by your anklets as you take each step.
They sing songs of love, an eternal love, set in the town of love
This town
My town.
I step outside my door and ask the passer-by,
O Wine Barer, have you given me a drink tonight?
Silent he remains, only displaying a smile.
Am I going crazy or am I just drunk, I ask myself.
The bright glow travelling through my little town intoxicates my curiosity
And so, I travel true the tight alleys, following the glow and songs the anklets sung.
At first I walked.
But the more I walked, The more intoxicated became my curiosity
As if the search of this glow was its wine.
Walking turned to jogging and jogging turned to running.
I was getting closer.
The songs became louder and more memorising.
The glow became brighter
A heavenly contrast to the black night sky.
At last, I turned the corner of the old stone shoe maker’s shop
And there you appear
Caught whist mischievously hiding from my love.
Your body adorned in saffron.
Your hair blowing in a wind; A wind only centred around you
Your lips draped in the colour of roses in a wild field
Your anklets singing like a Bharati Princess in a castle court yard
Your eyes sparkling like a lake at night under the moon.
Wait…
The moon…
The moon!
I ask myself again, am I going mad or am I drunk?
Why have you the moon in your hands? I ask
Silent, you smile and say nothing.
Instead you turn to the West, and begin walking
All the happiness of the world laughing and dancing as it follows your saffron adorned body.
Instantaneously, I hear tablas and Sitars begin to play an enchanting tune
An unknown voice begins to sing poetic verses describing your saffron adorned body.
My curiosity, ever so drunk, follows you to an orange grove at a hilltop overlooking my little town.
With your arms stretched out, and the moon comfortably resting in your hands
You begin to spin
At first you spin slow.
The unknown voice ceases to sing verses, but now singing the sweetest raag
The tabla changes its tune to a hypnotic beat
And the Sitar changes its song to something that would put the faithless into a trance.
As you begin to spin faster, the instruments begin to play faster, as if to keep up with you.
The stars above begin to spin as well though the Moon stays still.
Faster and Faster you spin and everything becomes almost erratic but ordered at the same time.
Then, all of a sudden you stop, but everything else continues to spin.
The happiness that once trailed behind you, laughing, suddenly jumps up.
One by One, each explodes into the sky, like colourful fireworks at a festival.
Above that, the night sky begins to rain comets and shooting stars.
You laugh as the sky rains fire
Laughing like a little child joyful at the sight of a spinning top.
The wind blows the fabric of saffron adorned body
As if it were a flag representing your beauty.
I fall back against a nearby rock
bewildered and in utter shock.
You turn your head and look at me
Your hair dancing in the wind like an intoxicated dervish.
Slowly you walk towards me, smiling.
I pick myself up
Dusting off the grass on my clothes.
You come closer and closer to me.
And finally you speak:

I came here tonight
To your town
Filled with nothing but love for you in my heart.
But
Even with that
I felt it was not enough.
I felt I came with empty hands.
And so I reached high above
Right up to the sky
And stole the moon
For you.

She reached her hands out
Still with that glowing smile illuminating her face
And blew on the moon.
And then
By Magic
The moon disintegrates
First turning into dust
Than to doves
Flying straight up and away into the illuminated night sky.

…My eyes suddenly opened. I found myself in bed. And there you were, lying right beside me; wrapped up in your blanket, peacefully sound asleep. Right there and then, you had never looked so beautiful as you had right there. I couldn’t help but smile and melt. I reached over and kissed your soft, warm cheek and went back to sleep.

-Mast Malang

Eid Mubarak

I just want to take this opportunity to wish all of my readers Eid Mubarak.  I hope you all have a wonderful three days.  Please forgive those that have done wrong to you please be merciful to all you meet.  Rememeber, Allah is all forgiving. Stay well and stay safe!

-mast malang

Ramadan – Seek Reward

Whoever stays up (in prayer and remembrance of Allah) on the Night of Qadr fully believing (in Allah’s promise of reward for that night) and hoping to seek reward (from Allah alone and not from people), he shall be forgiven for his past sins. (Bukhari/Muslim)