Sale Frenzy

Target at Hoppers Crossing recently relocated to the Pacific Werribee and as part of its moving, it had a three day 75% off sale. I had always heard of people going crazy at Black Friday sales in America.There have been incidents of people getting trampled to death by the throngs of crowd just pounding into the stores like the stampede in Lion King.

Fortunately,we don’t have boxing day sales here in Australia. Why did I say fortunately? Read on.

Sale started Monday , the day I go to mentor kids at the Werribee Secondary College for 2 hours. My aunt called up my mum to inform her of the sale. Mum dropped me off at school and headed to Target to check out the buzz. I called up mum to ask her to pick me up after my mentorship training got over and mum said that she couldn’t pick me up as she was stuck in line to the counter and that she might not be able to come out even after an hour. So I called my aunt and she picked me up and dropped me at Target and wooooow!! I was just speechless. It was a whole new shopping experience I can tell you that. The store was practically empty but the employers would just bring out new stuff and people would rush to it like a pack of hyenas would attack a baby deer. Their eyes were as ravenous as a hungry lion and their hands as outstretched as a little child who had just seen their favourite toy at store.There was a huge line that started from the cashier snaking all the way around to the whole store ending at the entrance. My mum didn’t exaggerate when she said it was a kilometre long line. After a few minutes,I was able to locate my mum. Having secured the trolley, we decided to check out other stuff as well. Mum saw these bed sheets and decided to check whether it was for single, double, king or queen size and poof it was gone. Some one had snatched it right out of her hands!!! People were wild I tell you. You couldn’t differentiate between people and animals, such was the environment and the atmosphere. It almost seemed like everyone had lost their senses and were lusting after the discounted items. The funny thing was that most of these items were stuff people didn’t even need. Allow me to elaborate : So I am a size 7 and when I was checking for shoes my size, there were none to be found. Only the gigantic size 9s or the tiniest size 6s could be seen all over the shelves. I spotted these beautiful black heels in size 7 in some aunty’s hand and no, I wasn’t going to grab it out of her hand. Thankfully I hadn’t transformed into the mindless zombie who had forgotten all etiquettes. The aunty was busy trying to squeeze her foot into the heel.

It almost pained me to observe the whole thing and I was almost tempted to tell her that there was no Prince Charming who would come and rescue her if her shoe fit in the glass slipper, I mean black stiletto heels. After 5 minutes of torturing the feet and the heels, she finally gave up. I was almost delighted and had started fantasising of the heels in my hands until she exclaimed “Ehhh I shall give it to my sister. I can’t miss such a good deal”. ARRRGHHHHHH!!!

Mum and I were waiting in the line for a good hour, observing the whole craziness and pandemonium taking place. All of a sudden, we heard a lady groan in agitation and looked back to check what had happened. Apparently these group of Indian ladies had taken a friend of theirs under their wing. Understandably, the white lady behind would be upset. Having to wait in line for hours and then have someone jump the queue is not at all acceptable. But the newcomer wouldn’t and didn’t budge. After a while, a hijabi approached us and was about to ask if she could join us when the very same lady that had escorted her friend, started shouting at the top of her lungs accusing her of queue jumping and breaking the line and threatening to complain to the management. The hijabi lady looked around helplessly for a few seconds and then jumped out of the line, stashed away the clothes on a nearby rack and left. I was appalled and shocked at the attitude of the Indian aunty behind me. Her hypocritical nature had left me speechless. I wasn’t able to question her and I wish I had because it really should be one size fits all (You can tell I really really wanted those heels lol).

By the time, we left the store it was 3:30 in the afternoon. Mum had spent 6 hours and I, 2 and that was enough time for us to start questioning the world we live in. If a sale on materialistic items had ignited such passion and antagonistic feelings in humans, then we aren’t leaving a very good example for the generations to come.

***All images and gif via Google Images

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Tutti Frutti Frozen Yoghurt (Review)

So today is officially my one month anniversary of blogging. I am not that type of person who would be excited and bragging about anniversaries, or that I have 31 followers ,or that I reached a total of 205 likes on all my blog posts so far or the fact that my best number of views in a day was 32 on my blog (oops, I guess I just did hehe). Nope, I would rather be excited that I was able to keep my promise of blogging consistently 5 days a week for a month alhumdulillah(Still deciding which 2 days to blog on from now on. For now its Saturday and Sunday.)And so I decided to treat myself with a bit of froyo.

I had heard of the concept of frozen yoghurt by the girly YouTubers who make DIY videos and get ready with me’s and morning and night routines on their channel. They were raving about cookie dough frozen yoghurt. And so when Tutti Frutti opened up at Pacific Werribee (Werribee Plaza back then), I was the first one in line to try it out. And may I say it was the best thing ever especially with toppings. It has the sweetness and coldness of ice cream and health factor of yoghurt. Of course, my froyo doesn’t seem too healthy after I add choc-biscuits and wafer and all that jazz.

Tutti Frutti has various flavours of frozen yoghurts and they keep introducing new flavours. My all time favourite is chocolate and cookie n cream.

The best part about it though are the assortment of toppings. I am a huge pearl fan.

When you bite into a pearl, the sweet juice shoots into the back of your mouth directly into the esophagus (food pump/canal).  Normally it works best with fruit flavoured froyos such as mango,blueberry and strawberry just because the pearls are fruit flavoured too but I have to have pearls in any froyo I choose. It IS the best.

Also for those who are concerned with the pearls being halal or not, just ask the staff and they will tell you. In my case, the person behind the counter took out the tub from the shelf and handed it over to me for me to peruse through the ingredients and fortunately, the pearls were of vegetarian origin.

Pros :

• Taste yummy
• Various flavours
• Assortment of yummy toppings to choose from

• Colourful spoons

• Vegetarian pearls

Cons:

• Pay by weight so if you load up on toppings like I do, you end up paying more.

All in all, the best dessert. Suitable for weight-watchers, and fun and yumm for kids.

I shall be right there for you when you fall……….laughing so harrrddd

There are some friends with whom you instantly connect and share all your laughs and sorrows and life’s every moment and with whom you become really close with and later can’t seem to recall how you met and became friends in the first place. Then there are others who just land in your life at the right moment and right time and with whom you wouldn’t have thought of getting close to but you do and you actually do remember how you two met. Beatriz fell in the latter category. Fell being the imperative word as that is what my funny and georgeous friend seems to do : fall.

I met Beatriz as I was rushing to Nutrition Principals lecture. As I rushed to open the door, I noticed a girl beside me and gave her way to enter before me. She said thanks with a wide smile & enquired whether I was heading to Nutrition lecture as well. Upon getting a positive nod, her smile grew even wider and we started chatting away by asking about each other. Over the course of next weeks, we both came to know about each other’s families (she is Brazilian),likes and preferences. She is my only friend who has had the honour of getting to know about my blog. Beatriz is such a sweet soul that she not only reads it regularly and gives me feedback but has also told about my blog to her friends in Brazil. Readers from Brazil, thank you for your support.

Anyway today’s topic is falling. No, not the autumn fall but the physical act of smashing to the ground. Last week when I met up with Beatriz, she wasn’t able to speak. She was choking on her words and gasping for air. No, she wasn’t dying. She had fallen while climbing the stairs, and was laughing so hard tears were streaming down her face as she recounted to me her epic failure of the basic etiquette of the climb. And even though, I hadn’t had the chance to actually observe the glorious moment in action, Beatriz was laughing so hard and she drew such a great visualisation, that I was rolled up on the floor, doubling with laughter. We two were like a bunch of lunatics, laughing loud and hard and were drawing stares from everyone present in the library. It was later when we packed our bags and headed to our tutorial that Beatriz was kind enough to enact the whole fall in action as we climbed up the stairs.She had fallen just as Jennifer Lawrence had (gif down below) except Jennifer Lawrence fell in front of the whole world and Beatriz had fallen in front of her whole class. So engrossed was I in observing Beatriz that I didn’t realise and tripped over my own dress, in almost the exact same fashion as Beatriz had.The howls of laughter that erupted from both of us at my fall was too much to behold.

I guess it was fall season all around the world. Sarah Hyland tripped while walking to the stage at the Teen Choice Awards.

Oh and then last week, I was walking from university to station to catch the train. I was wearing my new ankle boots and was strutting my strut among the crowd of city people which included girls in business suits and pony tails and 6 inch heels. Mine wasn’t 6 inch. Probably 2 inch. So I wouldn’t trip right? 6 inch Elizabeth would right? Apparently some slippery pamphlety flyer was beneath me and my boots sorta slipped and gave way and my foot went above my knee and my head jerked back , wait I shall include a gif so you can feel like you were there when it happened.

Yeah yeah laugh away!! I was so embarassed that I could feel my face getting red. I didn’t look anywhere, just straight ahead and resumed by my strut like the above cute penguin.(I hope I looked just as cute). Serious question : why do we find it funny when someone slips,trips,falls? Is it because of that sudden clumsy motion of a person’s hands flailing around,legs flying in different directions? That person could injure himself/herself, sometimes resulting in death OKAY?? DON’T LAUGH. That person has already damaged his self-esteem. No need to add insult to the injury.I can still hear your muffled laughter btw.

This post is dedicated to Beatriz. That exchange student from Brazil who made my Fridays less tiresome and more funnysome. You are a sweet and kind friend. Your fall inspired this post so thank you.

***Image and gifs via Google Image

The Liebster Award

I am just 2 days shy of completing my one month at blogging and I got nominated for the Liebster Award!!!Yaaaaayyy!! I never thought success would touch my feet this early, I mean 22 posts only and awards and nominations already. I was preparing my thank you speech in my head the whole time I was in the train from uni to home. I really do hope I win. Ahem I mean may the best blogger win.

WHAATTT??? This isn’t what? This isn’t that type of award? What do you mean? What type? I am getting a trophy right? No???

 

So apparently Liebster Award is an online “award” that bloggers give to other bloggers. The aim is to recognize,discover and introduce new bloggers to the blogosphere. How lovely!! And here I was thinking of what food there would be at the award ceremony.

Jokes aside, I would love to thank the lovely Bushra for nominating me for my very first blogging award. Bushra is a nursing student who writes lovely posts on Islam which serve as a gentle reminder of where we stand and how to improve and also serve as a daily dose of spiritual health. Please follow her by clicking on Bushra and show her some love. (Sorry for the repetition of the words love and lovely in this paragraph. What can I do? Bushra IS lovely and writes lovely. Ok I shall stop.)

Based on my research, there are a set of rules for the Liebster award :

1. Link back to the person who nominated you.
2. Answer the questions given to you by the nominator.
3. You can choose to nominate up to 11 bloggers with less than 500 followers.
4. Create 11 questions for the nominees.
5. Notify the nominees via social media.

Set of questions Bushra asked me were :

Why did you start your blog?

My brothers Khalid and Mikaeel were the ones with the idea. They suggested me to polish my writing so I could write a novel in the future. But blogging has given me a chance to share my experiences, my feelings and thoughts on a global platform where it is more interactive and fun than it would have been through a book for an author and her reader.

Have you ever been through something life-changing that brought you closer to Allah and Islam?

I never actively thought of death as something that could occur at my age. Last Ramadan, a guy who used to pray at the nearby mosque where I used to go pray Taraweeh with mum, passed away while he was on his way for Fajr prayer. He was 21, the same age as me at the time. That had a deep and profound impact on me and I realised that I need to be prepared for death as it doesn’t announce its arrival to anyone at anytime.

What are some qualities you look for in people to take as friends?

I am very shy. So its people who take the effort to make me their friend rather than me rocking up to them and getting to know them. But the special diamonds I keep close to me should be kind, funny, cheerful and who don’t take offense at the silliest things. They should also love to take risks and be open to group suggestions.

What are your favourite foods?

Pizza, enchiladas,anything chocolate (except chocolate and mint combo),chocolate brownies,chocolate souffle,custard, cakes, cake in custard, fried rice, pulaao (fried rice and boiled peas) with chicken curry, naan and katumba (types of roti).

What is your biggest fear?

Heights.Spiders too. I don’t know which I fear more.

Favourite ayah or hadith?

Aayah 13 of Surah Rahman(chapter 55) which translates to : So which of the favours of your Lord would you deny?

Where do you see yourself in 5 years?

This is so hard to answer because I only planned my life to end of this year. But in 5 years, I shall be 27, so hopefully married with a career. Or maybe married to my career haha if I become a successful writer in sha Allah.

Are you an introvert or extrovert?

Definitely introvert.

Favourite place to travel to?

Sooo many but number one on my bucket list is New York.

What makes you happy?

Chocolate and happy smiley people and sleeping in and writing.

If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

I can never say no to anyone and I hate that. I wish I could be headstrong and just say no.

Those were all the questions.

Without any further ado,let me announce the nominees. And they are(drumroll please) :

• Paper Girl
• Poppie Tee
• Star of Persia
• abcd.x
• tamtam012013
• falmohammed4
• peaceloveanunity
• anansi2050
• Norah
• Ophelia Morse
• The Hidden Prestige

My questions to you are :

1. Who/what inspired you to blog?
2. What is one quality you love about yourself?
3. What is one quality you dislike about yourself?
4. What change would you like to bring to the world?
5. What are your favourite books/movies?
6. Favorite food items?
7. Who is your inspiration/role model?
8. What is one superpower you would love to have?
9. What is your deepest darkest fear?
10. What are your hobbies?
11. Are you athletic? If yes, in what sport?

Good Luck and have fun answering.

***Image and gif via Google Images

The One

When I tell my friends of my parents actively searching for a guy for me, they seem confused. “But how do you know that he will be the one?” You don’t. You make him the one for you.

Arranged marriage is a weird concept to white people. Dating is frowned upon in my culture(Bollywood creates false image of acceptance of love.Those aunties that click their tongues when they see you talking to the opposite gender don’t make the movies.It’s the desi uncle who love masala and spice)and forbidden in my religion. It is hard when you have clash of cultures, religions and people in a group. One of my non-desi non-muslim friend has a boyfriend, one of them is a muslim desi engaged to be married and I am the single muslim desi. So while both of them are busy texting their significant others, I am deciding on what snacks will be awaiting me when I reach home from uni. Not that I am complaining coz hey, the sight of food pleases me just as much. I get all mushy too when I see steaming pizza and we never fight like ever. Food and I are just meant to be.

These days all I hear about are proposals and marriage and my friends getting engaged, my cousins getting engaged, when the marriage date is getting fixed and which aunty is searching for a boy for their girl or a girl for their boy. Maybe I grew up and that is why these topics seem more pronounced to me because all of a sudden the theme changed from career to husbands. And I wasn’t prepared. I am still in the career mode. And while marriage won’t put a full stop to that dream of mine, it will most definitely be a life-changing experience. And I hate changes. Well, changes are good or I would get bored of routine. But not my life change changes. The plaza gets renovated, the apps get updated and my house gets repainted, that’s all cool. But changing house, families, living with new people, it will take ages getting used to it. Even though it has been 5 years since I moved to Aus, I still wake up in the morning and wonder where am I? for a few seconds. If 16 years of living in Dubai did that to me, you can only imagine my reaction 22 years living with my family will have on me. I shall wake up and scream at my husband and ask “Who are youuu??”

My parents will celebrate their 27 years of marriage in October. When white people reach such jubilees in their time of spending together, they get asked what is the secret? Desi people have unlocked the secret ages ago. The secret is live together,STAY together (no matter what, even if the husband is ugly). I can’t say for desi people my generation now though. Divorces are getting common in my area too unfortunately. And as cliché  as that sounds, I feel social media is partly to blame. Wives are in competition of which husband gave the best present and who is more romantic and where did which couple celebrate their getaway.You know, that competitive desi mentality lol. Its ruining marriages now.But that is just the tip of the iceberg.Other factors account too.

Now, when I am at that age of what is supposedly every girl’s dream of meeting the one, it doesn’t seem all rosy. Books and movies don’t offer step by step manual.Even if they did, chuck it away and create your own.That doesn’t mean it will be a fairytale story. You got to prepare yourself for the bumpy ride.And I guarantee it will be smooth sailing after for a long long time. The magic word is compromise.

***All opinions stated are mine (ok some might be the influence of a couple of aunties and grandmothers’ advice. I went to a party recently and got heaps and loads of advice on how to handle marriage so yeah.They told me to compromise I replied yolo (not really)).

***All images and gif via Google Images.

Like for like

As much as I enjoy technology and social media, I don’t enjoy the pressure that is associated with it. When I was little, Facebook, Twitter and Instagram didn’t exist. Even internet with its unlimited data, speed and connection was non-existant. The other day, my brothers and I were reminiscing over the fact that back in the days, after our family had dinner, we would disconnect our phone to connect to the internet. Dial-up connection would take ages to connect with its annoying ringtone. Mum would log into msn messenger or Yahoo Chat to talk to my aunt or call my grandma via Voip. We would play internet games but that was only sometimes. Solitaire and Minesweeper were our companions. Oh and who could forget Microsoft Paint? Best times, I tell ya. I know you kids will disagree but let me tell you, we didn’t have to check our phone every two seconds for notifications to blow up our phone on the latest selfie uploaded. Not throwing shade (well kinda,just a lil bit).

This post was inspired by another blogger whose every (literally every, like she doesn’t blog about anything else) blog post is on how many followers she got and OMG she just started her blog and didn’t expect so many follows, likes and all that jazz. I get it. The excitement. The popularity meter spiking up. The comments of congratulations. We are all humans.We like being loved. We like being known we are loved. It boosts our ego and sense of accomplishment. But what we fail to realise is there are others who are not getting followers and likes and all that love. They look at your posts and feel down. No one compliments on your face anymore. For this person,no one does it on social media either. How is that person going to feel?

It is for this reason I am very inactive on Facebook. Not because of lack of likes or comments. I don’t even post on Facebook. I used to be the silent viewer. I used to silently watch who got friends with whom, who was tagging whom on which party that they had, who was checking out at which fancy restaurant, whose profile photo was getting 100+ likes. I didn’t know I was getting affected but suddenly I was planning a meet up or was asking my parents if we could go out to eat and trying to do all the “fun” stuff but whenever I used to hang out, or go out it didn’t seem natural. I didn’t like it. It is because I realised it wasn’t me. It wasn’t who I was. I was the quiet nerdy girl who loved reading books and staying at home. Yes, I like being social and meeting with friends but I couldn’t and didn’t want to do something crazy every week just to compete.So I stopped being the silent viewer. Now I am the ghost. People ask if I am still alive because there is no activity on Facebook. I just holler at them through Whatsapp . I would rather have real talk through Whatsapp then post a status to let the world know I am alive.

And then Instagram popped up and the world went nuts again. I mean Facebook is basically Twitter and Instagram mashed together. You post a status or share something on Twitter and post a photo and get likes and comments on Instagram. Weren’t those features on Facebook already? But no, people loved the 140 word limit because it seemed challenging and OMG filters on Instagram, no but for real, have you tried those filters?Let me tell you, they are plastic surgeon’s app. I connected with a friend on insta and all her selfies she looked different like really different.Eyes bigger, nose thinner,teeth whiter. And I met her in person and she was still the same. Ok and then what’s the deal with food pics. Did you make it yourself? No??? Ohhh the chef at the restaurant made it? Going to a restaurant and eating a fancy meal every week is such a big thing, I should just give you a medal. I personally believe,if you didn’t make the meal yourself, don’t post it. You post selfies on your account,not otheries, why post other’s creations? I get it, it’s your dinner. Click a photo and save it to your camera roll. But no, Instagram IS camera roll. Just post everything.

I am not hating those who do whatever I mentioned above. If you are one of those people, then good on ya (or shall I say food on ya hehe.) Post em delish food,gorgeous selfies, do your thang. All my friends do it, and I support em by liking. But I personally don’t. Well,selfies sometimes.I can’t help it with lighting so good and angle so great.

Real talk tho, always remember, quality over quantity. For bloggers who are blogging for years, or youtubers making videos, do your stuff with passion and don’t worry about followers or likes. It’s hard but don’t. You will gain followers (not an overnight success), the real and genuine ones. Not the follow for follow people. But people who followed you for the content. Who discovered you through your posts/videos. Don’t go chasing people.It will be slow progress but it will be worth it.

WordPress,Instagram,Twitter, Facebook etc., don’t make it easier on you. They show statistics on how successful you are getting. They post notifications on the likes you got on a post. I am not complaining. I enjoy it. What I hate is when we start equating that with success when it shouldn’t be the case. The number of followers/likes does not validate you,your awesomeness. Numbers don’t define you.They never did and they never will.

***Feature image and gifs via Google Image

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Email : aaliyahzahra@hotmail.com (Come chat with me!!)

Tumblr : http://www.aaliyahzahra.tumblr.com (For those, who don’t have wordpress, I made tumblr.)

FaceBook Page : http://www.facebook.com/pages/AaliyahZahra (Invite your friends to come like, support,share)

Twitter : @Aaliyahsblogs (Tweet about my posts, that’s all. And struggles of a blogger)

Instagram : @aaliyah_zahra (Follow for follow/like for like. Yeah I do that. Hypocrite much? Hey,caring is sharing ok! LOL)

The Wallflower

I tutor English for scholarship exams to year 5’s and year 8’s. It is a rewarding experience I can tell ya. Especially when they pay you. That is the rewarding part. The teaching? Not so much. Jk.

So this year, I got a brother and sister to tutor. The girl is in year 5 and the boy is in year 8. When I do orientation lesson in the first class, I yak away on the two types of essays they will be writing in the exam. I go through all the basics, the do’s and don’ts, the if’s and but’s, the no pencil rule, the formal writing rule, all that. And I can tell, most my kids are actively listening, grasping all the pieces of information I am hurling at them. This boy, however, was just sitting uninterested. He was slouched back, shoulders drooping, sighing in between. For a second, I wondered if he had heard all this before. I mean I tune out the safety instructions they give on the plane because I have heard it so many times. So I ask him, if he has because I don’t want to waste my breath and energy if that is the case. He rolls out his tongue and says no. So I resume with my energy even if it is not having an effect on him. Turns out he is like that. Like a kid who doesn’t want to be there but has to be there.

Throughout the weeks, I tried making his lesson a bit interesting. Interacting with him, asking about his hobbies and what games he likes to play. And although he opened up, he never spoke with animated passion. If you talked to me about something I love, my eyes would be out of its sockets, my mouth would be going non-stop 120 km/hr. But for this kid, he was like an 80 year old weary grandpa who had seen the world and experienced life and was just biding away his time by doing what his parents asked him to.

Slowly slowly I got to know more of him through his writing. For instance his fascination with Ebola. In almost each essay that he wrote, Ebola had to be there whether it related to the topic or not. And no matter how many times I had to tell him off for it, Ebola would still creep in. Now whenever he hands me the essay, I quickly scan through the essay to search for it and smile whenever I see its mention.

He is slowly starting to enjoy our lessons. He smiles a bit now and talks about school,his friends and his teachers. It took him a while but he is opening up. I am hoping I can make him put extra effort on his essays but I don’t want to scare him away. It shall take a bit of time.Before I know it, he will be giving the exam and saying good bye. I wonder that’s how teachers/lecturers must feel. Teaching you for a whole year/semester. Getting used to seeing faces, getting to know students and then all of a sudden, new students, new faces. And one of them sticks to your mind. The different one. Because I know I shall remember this kid and his fascination with the disease Ebola.

***Feature image via Google Images

What is Sleep??

I am sooooo tirreeddd!!!Fridays are usually lengthy days at uni for me.I get up at 7:30,get ready, get to station at 8:15 and reach university at 9:00. Head to the library to print out my lecture notes and then to the lecture at 9:30.Lecture runs from 9:30 to 11:30, then an hour break in between,then a tutorial from 12:30 to 1:30, then an hour break and then a lecture from 2:30 to 3:30. On alternate weeks, I have a practical lab from 2 to 5. By the time I head home, its 5/6 in the evening and I am a walking zombie. Except zombies, with their outstretched hands, drone out BRAINS!!BRAINS!! while I mumble SLEEP SLEEP.

So today I got home from uni and before I knew it, I was flat out. I woke up just a couple of minutes before to go to the loo, and remembered I hadn’t posted today.With 2 more hours until midnight, I am like Cinderella, rushing to find mice to turn into coachmen (I am rummaging through my sleep-addled brain for words to make a coherent post).

I have only told my one friend (that I just got to know) at uni about my blog (She will be featuring in a post very soon). I wanted to observe the power of social media. I wanted to see how long it’s going to take before my friends/relatives get to know about my blog via my WordPress,Tumblr,Facebook Page,Twitter or Instagram. I haven’t promoted or gave an inkling to anyone as yet and my family is on the deal as well. It’s hard because if I would tell them, they would be supporting me and actively reading and I would be getting more views than now but I like this too.In fact I prefer this anonymity, the calm before the storm (storm might take years to come lol). I can blog my mind without writing too biased or preferential just because a certain friend/relative is reading. I get too conscious and shy as well. And right now, it’s a small team. My parents, brothers, and you lovely readers. At least I know who will be in my thank you speech when I shall be accepting the Booker or the Pulitzer Prize.

I am thinking of writing twice a week, instead of 5. Reading this post, I am sure you agree with me. I prefer quality over quantity. I would rather put everything into my two posts than write 5 posts of crap. I have 24 hours during weekends that are exclusively mine, to furnish and publish my posts rather than rush through uni, write my posts on train and trams and come home,add my gifs and memes and just give it away. I have been debating for quite some time, but it’s hard to break a promise that I kept with myself. It’s just been 3 weeks. I didn’t even last a month (Cry emoji). I didn’t want to sound like I was getting lazy, or losing motivation because I haven’t. I am still enjoying this. I just want to balance studies, blogging,tutoring and volunteering. At the moment, the balance is tipping heavier towards blogging,tutoring and volunteering.

You know what, I shall write 5 more posts for the next week. So that, at least I shall have fulfilled my promise for a whole month and feel satisfied.Yes, that’s what I shall do.

Until Monday.

***Image and gifs via Google Image.

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Email : aaliyahzahra@hotmail.com (old school with no facebook,twitter,insta? Got your back. Email me)

Tumblr : http://www.aaliyahzahra.tumblr.com (For those, who don’t have wordpress, I made tumblr.Currently running 2 posts behind WP.)

FaceBook Page : http://www.facebook.com/pages/AaliyahZahra (Invite your friends to come like, support,share)

Twitter : @Aaliyahsblogs (Tweet about my posts, that’s all. Shall start tweeting real stuff soon coz first things first, I am a realist.)

Instagram : @aaliyah_zahra (Brag about my new blog post here. No, I don’t have food photos/selfies.Shall have a post on that shortly and then I shall post that on insta.I do follow backs.Actually I would love to see your food posts and you.Do follow.)

Take my Advice..

I am nearing the end of my degree and as I am approaching graduation, I am getting this apprehensive fear of the future.

When I was little, and the elders used to ask “So, what you are going to be when you grow up?”, everyone else was rattling off their career aspirations and hobbies and I would have no clue. I would blurt out “teacher” when my turn came but that was only to get everyone off my back because everyone else would be peering into my face or repeating the question until I gave an answer. Growing up, I felt weird among my friends because they knew what to do whereas I didn’t have a single clue. My mum would put my worries to rest by assuring me that I would figure it out when the time came. And then as I passed from one year level to the next, the pressure of an ever growing mountain of classwork, homework, getting highest grades and getting into a medical degree just kept mounting up. I had no time to think, no time to sit back and relax and think about what I actually saw myself doing in the next few years. WAIT!!WAIT!!HOLD UP!!PAUSE!!GO BACK!!!MEDICAL DEGREE?? WHERE DID THAT COME FROM??? That’s right. I didn’t know when it happened, but suddenly I was telling everyone that I wanted to become a doctor. No wait, everyone else was telling me that I was going to become a doctor. And even though I get nauseous when I see blood, suddenly I was working hard to get ATAR score of 99.99 to get into medicine. Everyone else was telling everybody else about me aiming for medicine but no one was telling me how to achieve that dream. No one wanted to tell me. No one wanted competition buildup for their kids. No one wanted their suggestion to be taken in the wrong way if things didn’t turn out right. Everyone kept mum. Now if you recall, I had arrived Australia like a year and a half ago. I had no clue about the workings. I had no clue about getting tuitions. I had no clue where or who to go to for tuitions. I had no one to guide me, no one to coach me, no one to tell me what units to take. That I could have taken Biology and still gotten into medicine. No,everyone assured me that taking 2 maths units, physics and chemistry was the way to go. That subjects that I would drown in would help me in getting into medicine. That studying whole textbooks all by MYSELF was what every student does. Little did I know everyone else was going for tuitions.

I did not get 99.95. I did not get into medicine. I did not meet the demands of what desi community had placed onto me.

I got into Bachelors of Science (Biotechnology). At every desi party I would be the target of aunties clicking their tongue in sympathy for my failure. I would feel down, I felt I had let my parents down, my relatives down, the whole of India down. Aunties would surround me and question my errors and interview my faults because they wanted to avoid the pitfalls that I had fallen into during my journey. They wanted to know what shortcuts they could take for their kids based on my shortcomings.

3 years later…

I attend a party and see this aunty whom I haven’t seen for long. I go to her and chat with her and ask about what has been happening. Apparently her elder daughter was in year 12 and she had stopped attending parties to concentrate on her studies. I asked whether she is still pursuing the dream of doctor and aunty exclaims “Doctor?? No waayy!!! I don’t want my daughter to become doctor. Do you know they have to do night shifts as part of degree? It is very unsafe for girls. Do you know its a 5 year degree? Too lengthy!!And plus my daughter doesn’t have interest in medicine. She told me she wants to become a teacher. I also like that. Best job for girls.” I look around and see all aunties nodding their head in unison.

I lose consciousness.

*** All images and gifs via Google Images.

Mind of its Own

So last night I got sick, like really sick. Fever, cough, blocked nose the whole package. I lay down on my bed underneath the blanket. The bed was bitingly cold against my hot skin and I couldn’t bear to lie down upon it but I had to. I covered my whole body with the blanket and rolled into the shape of the fetus but after a while I started feeling breathless and peeked my head out to breathe. The ice-cold air hit my face,nose and ears so I covered the rest of my face but let my nose out for air ventilation. However if you remember, the ventilation was blocked that is I had one congested nostril and breathing through only one was getting me breathless.

My mouth opened to help in the process and I started gulping down fresh air as a person who was drowning would when he would rise to the surface. Meanwhile the rest of the body that was covered in blanket was not only screaming fire (fever + heat build up by closure of fresh air) but my throat was feeling that I was neglecting it and so it started drawing attention of not only mine but my whole household by racking into dry itchy coughs. Mum bought warm water and lozenges to appease the throat but the throat was having none of it. I shot out one of my legs outside the blanket to cool it down but the leg ran back inside the fiery blanket after experiencing Antarctic isolation outside. Coughs and shallow breathing aside, my hands were deadly cold and my body would scream if I rested my hands against the feverish chest/stomach. My hands therefore got exiled to Antarctica outside.

By this time, my brain who was busy commanding the white blood cells on the battle that was raging against the army of viruses attacking my body, had enough of my indecisiveness and decided to shut me down by producing melatonin. I finally started getting drowsy and was almost giddy with happiness for the fact that I no longer had to deal with problems because I would be dead for a few hours at least. My eyelids started fluttering,my smile started widening as sleep welcomed me into its open arms. As I started getting comfortable into sleep’s lap, the throat probably got jealous because it started throwing tantrums. Series of coughs later, I looked around for sleep which was miles away putting another baby to sleep. Frustrated, I downed a glass of water & turned to my phone for solace and comfort. It has been 2 hours now and I got the idea to blog about it. When the throat saw that I had featured it and given it an honourable mention in today’s post : it started beaming with pride. It has quieted down considerably and I am thinking that while it is busy boasting to other body parts, I shall quickly catch a few zzzzz.

Good Night!!

***All image and gifs via Google Images.