On a Serious Note

Eid Mubarak!! Hope you had a great time. I know I am late on the Eid wishing but I was busy on Eid day with guests pouring in all day and the next day I had uni from 8 to 8 so sowwie. Better late than never right?

This Eid was bittersweet given the tragedy that occurred at Mina. My aunt and uncle are at Hajj this year so of course we were anxious to contact them and they are alhumdulillah safe. But of course those martyred at Mina would be someone’s aunts and uncles, someone’s mums and dads. I can’t bear to imagine the feelings of loss those families faced when they heard of their beloved ones passing away and the realisation dawned that they wouldn’t be waiting at the airport to welcome them back with joyous faces.

I guess Eid this year had that effect on everyone. As I logged onto WordPress to read posts on my feed,  people were sharing their feelings of sadness and loss.I tend to avoid thinking about such feelings. I am that girl who will always look cheerful no matter what. Tejas’s post on his cat, Ershad’s post on death,and revels’s thoughtful post on trust made me realise how happy occasions can be marred with feelings of sadness.Death is certain. Death is inevitable.The impact of death is a mental smack. Getting a smack on the face hurts but only for a little while. The pain subsides. But a smack on the heart, you know that feeling where you are feeling numb, your brain feels like it has frozen, because you can’t process anything. The Earth is still rotating, people are still going to office, kids are still getting herded off to school, everyone is laughing,socializing but for you it’s like everything is in slow motion. You are not part of the real world. You are not hungry, you feel no emotions. Just numb. A smack on the heart. And the heart stops beating. No emotions.

I remember the time when someone messaged my dad on Facebook to inform him the death of his friend. A close family friend that had been there from the start when we lived in Dubai.Our families were real close. My dad’s phone popped up with the message’s notification and since the phone was close by, I picked it up to hand it over to my dad. I glanced over and read the message and froze in my tracks. I couldn’t believe it. All day at uni I was remembering the family memories of when that uncle and his family with lovely daughters used to come over. Uncle was a jovial man who had diabetes. His condition had become so serious that the toes of his right leg had to be amputated and he had become blind in his later years. Even so, he was the most cheerful optimistic man who greeted you with utmost warmth when you met him.

My mum was a chemistry teacher at a secondary school in Dubai. When I was 10 years old, her school took the school kids to an island for excursion. It was a 2 day trip so the supervising teachers were allowed to take their children along. And so my brothers and I went along mum to Seer Baniyas island. The trip went amazingly well and everyone was having a great time. While returning, one of the school kids decided to get a bit naughty and ran along, diving head first into the open sea. His friends rushed along with him. Mum and other teachers started calling out for them to come back. And return they did. Except the one. The first one. The pioneer. The mastermind. Everyone started shouting his name to tell him that his prank was not funny, he better show himself up. Little did we all know, he had sunk to the bottom. He had swum to an area where the sand sloped off and as he stood up to breathe in air, his feet gave way and he was lying at the bottom. The outside world was shaking their head, imagining the prankster to show up at any time. As minutes passed away, comments on the idiocy turned to panic and frenzy and the male teachers started diving in. After what seemed like hours, a pearly white body glistening with water and frothing in foam, suddenly appeared from beneath the sea. A helicopter suddenly came in view and the school boy was put in a stretcher and flown over to the nearest hospital. The mood in the bus was eerily quite, everyone muttering and mumbling prayers amid sniffles and tears. After a while, one of the teachers got up and gave a speech that I didn’t understand. But all the girls and teachers started crying audibly. My stomach lurched as I anticipated the news but I still had to know. So I turned to this girl, who was another teacher’s daughter and who I had befriended during the trip, to ask what had happened. The prankster had fooled us. He hadn’t gone to swim, he had gone to die. The anger was great, the anguish even greater. He was my mum’s favourite student.He was a bright and obedient student. Only this time he didn’t obey. And it cost us all. His mum couldn’t bear the shock and slipped into coma. And to this day, we avoid going to beaches. The school disbanded excursions for years.

Time does heal.It has been 12 years since but every time we remember that trip, a pain shoots on the inside.The memory is always there even if it is muffled by the chaos of life.

***Image via Google

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Haaalllpp.. I am getting a huge zit on my forehead!!

As a teenager in Dubai, I was one of those girls who had clear skin. No it wasn’t flawless (I did have dry patches) but at least my face wasn’t festering with red spots. I didn’t apply any creams nor lotions nor any makeup. I didn’t need to. That all changed when I arrived Australia at the age of 16. It was all going smooth until my mum observed this redness on my right cheek. When I peered into the mirror, I realised I had become victim to someone’s fit of frenzy jealousy. What I didn’t realise was my days of clear skin had ended and that I would look at someone’s flawless face and ache for what I used to be.

I turned 22 a couple of months ago and while most of my friends are over that awkward acne filled, braced up stages of their lives, all dolled up and pretty, I am sitting in front of my bedroom mirror contemplating whether to apply a week (or 2 weeks) of absence from university to tend to this ginormous volcanic eruption that is about to occur on my forehead. It almost looks like a swelling or a bruise and my mom worriedly asked me whether I had bumped against a pole. On replying “no, it’s just another zit about to pop”, lil bro chimed in “NOT AGAIIINNNN” , which just goes to show how frustrating acne is for victims and viewers alike.

I have tried various creams, lotions, acne treatments ( natural and chemical), grandma’s cures & next door aunty’s remedies but I am still yet to recall the last time I looked in the mirror and was satisfied at what I saw. Sometimes there is an invasion to fight and sometimes there is scarring to treat. My face is the battlefield on which countless of wars of bacteria versus treatments have been waged on.

Ramadan 2015, I believe was the best short period, I could have cherished clear skin for. It was almost miraculous that my skin hadn’t spoken out for so long, so much so that even mum commented on how my skin was clear. No attacks by the oil production company and my scars were fading away. All in all I was having quite a gala time and was fantasizing on what makeup and dress I would wear for Eid and was giddy with excitement that on Eid I would be looking flawless for once. Two days before Eid, I guess I got short on preparing and planning, or maybe the facial bacteria that were exhausted with all the fasting got excited about Eid and decided to help out by going into overdrive and lo and behold, I was the proud expectant mother of triplets or possibly quantuplets of pimples. While my left cheek and forehead were as clear as a cloudless sky, my right cheek and chin were having their own little Eid party. Three to four zits on my right cheek and it seemed like they had bullied one who went away and was festering on my chin.

And that’s how Eid was. I had my own facial guests to attend to nevermind the actual guests and their reactions.

Honey masks and lemon ice cubes, salicylic acid and aspirin paste, cleansers and moisturisers for acne skin, my face has seen it all. I bet even the zits are like “Really Aaliyah? Are you still going to fight us with anything and everything? Haven’t you seen our strength? Haven’t you realised that we are making up for those awkward teenage years that you missed by giving you awkward adult years? I mean, c’mon, let’s become friends now alright?”

NEVERRRRRRRR!!!!!

***All images are taken from Google Search.

Moon Sighting Confusion!!

Background : The Islamic calendar is based on the moon, unlike the Gregorian calendar that follows the sun. So for Muslims the beginning of the next day actually starts at sunset and not at 12 am midnight.Also since it’s a lunar calendar, each month of the Islamic calendar is of 29/30 days as opposed to 30/31 days.

Ramadan this year was quite uneventful. By uneventful I don’t mean that it wasn’t very spiritually enlightening, rather the Imam of my mosque slammed down all the commotion that occurs every year of when the Eid* will be by asking the mosque- goers that there wouldn’t be a single question or discussion on it. I came to Australia 5 years ago and there hasn’t been a single Ramadan that wasn’t fraught with debates on moon sighting and occurrence of Eid. People wish to know before-hand which day the festival falls on so they can take the day off work and kids can quit school for the day. By before-hand I mean like a month earlier. Now Eid and moon-sighting go hand in hand.If one can sight a sliver of the crescent moon on the 29th or 30th night of Ramadan,then Eid is declared the next day. How can anyone know when the moon will be spotted a month before-hand?

Now get this : The board of Imams declared Eid to be on Friday, the 17th of July, 2015. They declared it on Tuesday the 16th of June ,2015, almost a month early to hush the persistent questioning of people whining about Eid, holidays, and problematic bosses. And thus Ramadan was quite peaceful.

On the 29th night, after breaking the fast, my older brother Khalid and me (and later the whole family) went out to sight the moon with our naked eye. It had always been the tradition of mum and me to eat Iftar** as quickly as we could and go for moon-sighting. Usually Melbourne sky is enveloped with clouds but that evening the sky was as clear as could be. And despite efforts put in by the whole family, the moon couldn’t be sighted. Next option : to rely on sighting from Hilal committee (Moon Sighting Committee), the experts with the big telescopes. And by Isha*** , it was declared that the moon was not sighted anywhere in Australia. The board of Imams, on the other hand, stuck to their decision of celebrating on Friday. Maybe it hurt their ego or maybe the wrath of thousands of Melburnians who had taken leave according to schedule would be overwhelming. My family decided to stick to moon-sighting and hence we would celebrate Eid on Saturday after observing the whole 30 day fast. We were in the minority but we were adamant. The majority were feeling a bit apprehensive but they justified with the hadeeth of following the Imam.

We fasted the next day while our friends celebrated Eid. Eid was also declared in Saudi Arabia and so people celebrating got to validate their Eid. Of course we attended the parties throughout the day which were full of debates and exchange of views on who is right and who is not. We neither condoned nor condemned anyone. But all this left me feeling a bit nonplussed.

Two days ago, the Saudi government announced that the moon sighted on the Thursday evening was in fact incorrect as it was not the moon that was sighted, rather the planet Saturn. And hence Eid was actually meant to be on the Saturday.

The End.

*The Islamic festival of celebration that happens at the end of Ramadan.

**Breaking of fast.

*** The night prayer.

^The crescent image is via Freeimage while the Eid celebration is from Google Search