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

Preserving Another Dream

I finally got to sleep for a bit last night and I had a fairly pleasant dream.  She was in it…I can’t remember all the details but I remember that we arrived at the beach.  The time, I want to say 4am for some reason.  But I know it was before the sunrise.  She was wearing this classy black leather jacket.  She looked very pretty.  So we’re on this beach and I pull out a camera and start playing with it.  All of a sudden the sun begins to rise.  It was beautiful.  And it was all of a sudden as well, without warning.  And it was happening so fast.  The sky was changing colours, going from purples to blues to reds to oranges.  I remember pulling out this camera and I begin to start taking pictures.  And there was this empty house type building off to the side.  She goes behind that house thing and sits down.  I call for her to watch the sunrise with me but she just sits there.  But I wasn’t disappointed because of this amazing show of beauty before my eyes.  And as the sun is climbing up the sky, all these desi people come out of nowhere with their cars parking anywhere and everywhere they could.  I guess that was our cue to leave.  As this flood of people begin to arrive, I have this big smile on my face, watching everyone try to get onto the beach.  And I think to myself, aren’t we lucky that we arrived here early. 

And then I woke up.  Most of you may be thinking that because she was in the dream that that is the reason why I want to preserve it.  That is not the case, though I can understand why you guys might think that.  Its more about the setting of the beach and the rising sun.  If only I was an artist who could paint my dreams and show you how beautiful it really was. 

The Sweetest Walk

It was a few days ago I believe.  I can’t remember what time it was but I believe it was fairly late.  I was walking to my car at the University.  And where I park is quite far from everything (hence the cheap parking rate).  As I was passing the gym, I began to hear someone whistling a tune.  At first I just assumed it was someone in the gym just whistling so I didn’t really pay any attention to it.  But as I began to enter the ice rink attached to the Kinesiology building (far from the gym) I began to notice that the whistling was still lingering.  It wasn’t until I went outside that I actually began to pay attention to the sound. 

There were a a few people walking towards the parking lot with me.  It was night time and if I recall correctly, there was a light orange hue over the city due to the cloud cover that was keeping the weather at a pleasant 1*C.  There was no wind whatsoever.  It was only then that I actually began to listen to what was being whistled.  I am not sure what song it was but judging from the notes and melody, it was most likely an old classical song.  The way that this person was whistling it was just amazing.  Every now and then he would start humming the tune before going back to whistling.  And it wasn’t like he was whistling quietly, there was a great distance between myself and this person when I first initially began to notice it. 

As I walked in the night, all I could focus on was this tune that he was whistling.  I mean usually I am either lost in my thoughts regarding school or something else.  I don’t really pay attention to my surroundings because I walk that route every day.  But there was something about this tune that made me fully aware of the clouds, the night, the temperature…everything.  I noticed that the whistling and hum was getting closer.  Before, I didn’t want to look back to see who was doing it so as to not make the person feel uncomfortable, though admittedly I was dying to see who it was.  Finally I looked towards my left and saw a guy probably my age walk past me.  I am probably wrong but he looked like he was an engineering student.  He was walking pretty fast, maybe because he was cold or maybe because that was his regular pace.  I didn’t want to lose the sound so I began to walk faster as well.  I think I had a whole bunch of books that I was carrying so walking was already tough.  Usually the muscles just below my shins begin to ache real bad but I was determined to stay with this guy, or at least be in distance of his whistling. 

Walking behind him, listening to this beautiful melody, combined with the atmosphere of the night and the late night bustle of campus, it was quite possibly one of the most pleasant walks I have ever had in my entire life.  Even with all the stuff I was carrying, I had wished that walk never ended.  I wanted to stop him badly and ask what composition he was whistling and by who  but that would have meant a pause in the melody and I wanted nothing to stop that sweet song.  I listened to that melody the entire way to my car.  When I got in, I looked through my rear view mirror and he was still walking, still whistling.  I only got that song out of my head when I finally fell asleep that night.  When I woke up, the melody had left my head, lost in memory.   But that is one of the few walks of my entire life that I will actually remember. 

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

Thanking Axinia at 1000 Petals

I had originally created this blog as a means of storing some of my thoughts and creative ideas where I could easily access them.  I had not intended for this blog to be for anyone else as I honestly thought nobody would read it.  This blog has been up for less than a year and already I have managed to gain a small but loyal following.  One of my readers, Axinia, has been reading me from almost the very beginning.  She runs a number of blogs, one of them being 1000Petals.  I love browsing this blog in particular as it always has insightful thoughts and presents an intriguing way of viewing this world in which we live.  I was browsing her page a week or so ago and too my surprise, she had presented me and a handful of other blogs two awards: the “I Love Your Blog Award” and the “Thoughtful Blogger Award.”  I was honestly humbled that she would attribute my little page of what is mostly rambling and the odd attempt at “Poems” (I don’t really consider them to be poems), as something that is worthy of any praise.  But low and behold, I am now the proud winner of two awards of recognition.

 Axinia, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. You truly are a beautiful human being with a beautiful mind and beautiful soul.  It is funny how we are oceans and continents away and yet are able to connect so easily our ideas on life, love, God and everything else that makes up life.  You truly are one in a million.  I attribute much of the success of my blog to you and the exposure you have given it and I will never be able to thank you enough for that.  I consider you a sister in spirit and love. Thank you…

I would also like to thank the rest of my loyal readers.  Just by virtue of visiting my little space, you all have given me a new reason to write.  And even though I may not be able to publish as frequently as you would like, I will always feel obliged to give you all at least a tiny bit of what goes on in my mind, as I now consider it to be my duty. Thank you all.

-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)