Talking About Someone's Wife

Dear Diary,

Does any one still read this blog? No? Oh, I guess it'll just be me and you then. You liked it that way, didn't you?

I went to a wedding last week. Apparently, there are some rules about praising another man's wife that I breached.

My friend, with whom I go way back (hello A.) and his wife also arrived for the wedding. As you know, I am a very, er, observant person. So as soon as I saw her, I told her, "Wow P, you look very good! Those highlights in your hair make you look striking!"

Of course she flushed and replied, "Oh thank you, tell your friend A, he didn't even notice!"

And true to nature A could hardly be bothered and we were soon discussing the dismal nature of the Bangladesh cricket team and the looming Ontario election. We soon split up and I was working the room, when suddenly, half an hour or so later, my friend A again showed up.

"Man, why did you have to praise my wife so much? Now she's bugging me that I don't notice stuff about her."

"Oh?"

"Listen, next time you praise ANOTHER MAN'S WIFE, keep it general ok? Don't get SPECIFIC."

"Ah."

WTF man how can you not notice your wife has ORANGE HAIR.

And it didn't help when I told him "oh well your wife is very pretty so I guess you can tell her you got used to her beauty."

Well ... I thought it was a very good excuse.

There are times I feel sorry for married people.

Oh don't worry about my friend and I - we are good.

The Cat That Sees Death

Sometimes I am just amazed by how much it is that we don't know.

Cat said to predict nursing home deaths

Oscar the cat seems to have an uncanny knack for predicting when nursing home patients are going to die, by curling up next to them during their final hours.

His accuracy, observed in 25 cases, has led the staff to call family members once he has chosen someone. It usually means they have less than four hours to live. [The Star]

Wow.

My grandparents used to tell me stories of how dogs all across Dhaka (and the villages) had started to bark untiringly on the night of the 24th of March, 1971, two nights before the Pakistani army had started their operations against civilians. In Bangladesh, they also believe owls and dogs are harbingers of death.

Goodbye - for now

This post has been some time coming (not to mention it's the 400^th post too).

It's been a wild ride. I can't believe that my first post was actually about a free movie offer. It picked up from then on. I wrote about many things. Some of it even got linked to by others.

I met a lot of lovely people through this blog (and some of them were even girls!). I read a lot of mind-broadening perspectives as I followed links and discovered the wonderful world of bloggers. A lot of readers and commentators I have grown to cherish hearing from.

Recently I went back and read a few posts I had written previously, on various topics. Then I read my recent posts. Somewhere, I felt, the tone and zeal wasn't the same. The passion wasn't there.

I am taking an indefinite break. A sabbatical, if you will. I don't know when I will be back. Perhaps in time for Eid. Perhaps not. In any case, I couldn't leave without saying good bye.

Goodbye.

Harry Potter and The Order of the Phoenix - Disappointing!

No spoilers - beyond the trailers.

So this is what I had been doing for the last four days - each day I watched one Harry Potter movie, from the first to the last one, in preparation for Harry Potter and The Order of the Phoenix.

I have a bad record for the Harry Potter movies. I never watched the first one before I had seen the second one - and when I did - it was a late night show. I fell asleep in between the movie. The third movie I enjoyed the most. The fourth movie was again a late night show. And once more, I fell asleep.

So this time I promised myself I would go to an early show - but first, here's a small recap of the four previous ones.

Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone - good intro to the series, good movie and lots of entertaining parts.

Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets - the best thinking movie of the series. I really, really enjoyed it as it has a lot of secrets and clues and mysteries that fall into place by the end.

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban - the best action movie of the series. This was my favourite movie of the series up until two nights ago, but still remains a very, very good film. Has a fast pace, lots of action, bits of mystery, and my favourite - time travel.

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire - garbage movie. The worst movie, a total bore, complete lack of coherence where the only significant part is the return of You-Know-Who.

So, what do I make of Harry Potter and The Order of the Phoenix?

I am ... somewhat ... disappointed in the movie. It wasn't as bad as the Goblet of Fire, but that isn't saying much. First, the pros.

It wasn't boring. I never felt the need to yawn or check my watch - the pace was kept throughout the movie as the story unfolded and never got bogged down. The acting was superb (especially of the character Dolores Umbridge). You felt for the characters when the "good" side fought amongst themselves. There were some great visuals (like the Thames fly-by). The confrontation scenes (be it with You-Know-Who or with Dolores Umbridge) were great, both for their visuals and for their impact.

Now for the cons. First, there was NO MYSTERY in the movie! Like, in the Chamber of Secrets, you had the puzzle as to who the Heir was, or what or where the Chamber was. In the third movie you had the identity of the Prisoner, the mystery of the Dementors and so on. At least in the fourth movie you had the puzzle of the challenges. This movie? It can be summarized by "a bunch of stuff happens".

Next, Harry's story doesn't "grow" by much. You don't find out more about his parents, or anything. I was very, very disappointed with that aspect. I thought they would reveal more stuff about Harry Potter's history.

Next, the over hyped "kiss" scene. There is absolutely ZERO chemistry between Harry Potter and Cho Chang. And if I was the Chosen One who has fought off You-Know-Who, my choice would have been a bit better than Cho Chang! That Patel girl was much better.

All in all, this is probably tied with the Philosopher's Stone due to the presence of some great scenes, and a whole class apart than the magnificent second and third installments of the series, but overall far better than the garbage fourth movie.

Sicko and the Health Care Issue

I remember once I was in southern Georgia, US, on my way to Orlando, Florida. We stopped at this little town where a buddy of mine worked, to rest for the night. He took us for dinner at this small family restaurant, along with a few co-workers of his. During dinner, the conversation shifted to voting.

"So you guys are all voting this year?" I casually asked his colleagues.

"Oh yes," one tall woman replied, "but we haven't gotten our vote card yet."

"Vote card?" I asked.

"Oh yes," she replied, "our company gives us cards with the candidates positions and who they recommended to vote for, and we do accordingly."

My jaw was like an :-0 in shock. And it is because of people like her (and she was not an aberration I found - many in the south of USA are truly politically ignorant hicks who never step out of their own towns and have no knowledge - nor interest - in what is going on at home and abroad), people who never think, yet they vote, that I despair of films like Sicko ever having any impact in the US.

Sicko was not a bad movie (though I maintain Moore's Bowling for Columbine was his best). It did paint a rosier picture of Canadian health care than what is the truth, but despite all the purported problems of our health care, I would not change it at all for an American-style user-pay-as-you-go health care. It is baffling that the richest, most powerful nation in the world cannot afford to provide adequate health care for more than half of its citizens.

It's also surprising how environment is suddenly the top issue amongst all the supposedly educated elite and the secular thinkers of the American political establishment. Yes, Gore my man, kudos to you for raising the profile of an issue you did nothing major about for eight years as the vice-president, but this Live Earth thing wasted more energy than the Canadian army in a single day in Afghanistan! Yes, I know the intent was to raise awareness, but everyone already knows about the environment! It is easy to latch on to the environment as something to do, because other than petitioning the government to sign the faulty Kyoto agreement you don't really have to do much.

While watching Sicko, there are many times I was glad that man, I am Canadian. However, one nagging thought did keep interrupting me - wait times. There are times when I had been down with something, or had a broken bone wherever, and had to wait a week or two before seeing a specialist. In those one or two weeks, pain killers would have to do. At those times, I sometimes wish I could have the option of paying and seeing the specialist early.

However, problems with our system are limited (and caused by) how we run our system, not with the system itself. For no other reason do many Buffalo citizens still try and somehow manage to obtain an Ontario Health card.

Observations of a Desi BBQ

It would be nice if the BBQ set was, you know, ASSEMBLED, before the aforementioned picnic day. If it's your responsibility to bring the grill, you should NOT be stopping off at Walmart on the day of the BBQ!!!



We are now experts in assembly of a BBQ in under 10 minutes!

Women are all about equality of the genders and same rights and all that stuff. Except when it comes to food. Suddenly, it's "Ladies First".

Or to be more precise, Ladies (and their children and other lady friends who they let cut in the line) first.

Then there is the uncle who has appointed himself the unofficial Official Taster. He will come around every 10 minutes and bug the 'chef'.

"So beta, is that chicken done? It looks like it's done. You should take it out. You know what? Let me taste it, I can tell you INSTANTLY if it's done or not...."

The other uncle is the Ph.D. of BBQ.

"Son! Don't arrange the charcoal bricks like that, you need air to flow between the bricks. Here, leave a hole... right here. We need to make the pile around 30 cm high, that should do it. Now, we need to factor in the wind, which is blowing from the north east. So our grill should face east, as the vents are on the south side, so we can have cross ventilation. NOW... for the lighter fluid, I need you to stand back.. this much.... and on my mark, squirt it out! One, two, three... SQUIRT!!!"

At least this is better than the uncle who looks at the lighter fluid, and then his eyes light up as he relives a long lost childhood fantasy, grabbing the bottle and squeezing for all he's worth, treating it like a water canon, as if he's firing ten rounds against an invading army. Apparently making a fire visible from space is a good way to get the BBQ going.

If you, while busy with the chicken, suddenly turn around and see ten people with tongs and gloves ready to help you, relax, they are not there to help you. They are just there because a picture is going to be taken by the official Facebook photographer. Frauds, all of them!

If someone repeatedly comes and asks you "Is the chicken done yet?", after the 5^th time it becomes halal to feed them half-done chicken.

Transformers - 4.5/5

GM had this Chevy Transformers Night last night. Free movie premier (at a drive-in), plus food, drinks and entertainment at the Docks for Chevy owners only. Enter the Mousehunter, who got a couple of free tickets to the event and generously invited me and another friend to accompany him.


Performers at the event.

The Movie Review

Transformers was meant to be a summer blockbuster and it was. It was like sitting in a Formula 1 car. Who cares where the car is going, how's the weather outside and what color the car is - as long as the ride is fast, good and exhilarating, that's all that matters. That's the movie for you - it's great fun, complete entertainment, fully worth seeing on the big screen. Overall - 4.5 out of 5.

There was a plot of some sort. There was a hot girl (very hot). The pace was good and fast - at no time did the film lag or I fidget in my seat (well, except craning my neck in the seat to get a better view out of a side window at times :-p).


The drive-in area.

The Action

With lots of money to burn, you expect the action to be good - and it was - for the most part. The attack on an army base, the desert scenes, the fights in LA and the chases - all choreographed well. When the robots were fighting each other though, it was all a blur. All you see is confusing motion. You don't even know what's happening and then it's all over.

The Transformers

I was a bit disappointed with the transformation sequence. Where's the cool slo-mo of the car/truck/plane-to-robot? It was all a blur. Suddenly they start whizzing and pop! - you have a 20-feet robot. It looked too-CGI and not realistic enough. The robots, I am sad to say, looked more bits-and-pieces than a solid piece.


The old (better, IMO) Optimus vs the new (supposedly slicker) version.

The Fun Factor

Some of the script was really funny. The movie never failed to entertain even for a moment, and even though there were shades of patriotic themes (it's released on the 4th of July weekend after all), it wasn't 'over the head' and in-your-face, you could suspend your senses and enjoy it all.

The Nostalgia Factor

"I AM OPTIMUS PRIME!!!"

Enough said. Go see the movie already.


My prize for winning the Tribond Tuesdays Competition. Thanx again, Mousehunter.

See also: The Mousehunter meets Mezba

Canada Day

What's the first thing you think of when you think Canada?

Cold climate and snow, right?

Last month, we were having a nice spring. 20+ degrees centigrade, clear skies and so on. The my cousins from Texas decided to pay a visit. The night they landed, it fell to 3 degrees and we got a FROST warning (in June!!!) for our gardens.

"M-m-m-ezba!" My cousin told me, immediately on landing, with his teeth chattering, "I h-h-have heard your country is c-c-cold, but this-!"

Talk about an exception proving the rule!

So this week, with another set of cousins coming here from Australia, I decided to check the weather again. We had been having a heat wave recently, with some temperatures going as high as 42 degrees (with humidex), so I was happy.

"It's going to get colder..." went the forecase.

"Oh, no!" I thought, "Not again!" Already, my niece from Sydney had complained their winters were getting colder, with the temperature falling as low as 16 degrees. Our predicted SUMMER temperature for this weekend - 20 degrees!

Thankfully, the weather people were all WRONG. It was a glorious day, as we celebrated Canada Day like thousands of other tourists to Canada, going to Niagara Falls, and then later catching a glorious fireworks at the park.


The American Falls portion of the Falls, taken from the Maid of the Mist.


The Horseshoe Falls portion of the Falls, taken from a distance.




Fireworks at Milliken Park.

Happy Canada Day!

Signs You May Be A Bit Too ...

To be taken with a pinch of salt and generous dose of humour ...

Signs You Are A Bit Too ... Conservative A Muslim

- If you could ride a camel to work you would, as that was Sunnah, in your view.

- You can hide a miswak in your beard, and do.

- You quote verses and sayings in Arabic to fellow South Asian Muslims, and impress upon them as to how important it is to learn the language of the Prophet, and how easy it is. Ofcourse, the day you meet a real ARAB Muslim you shut up.

- You judge a person's piety by the cloth on their head or hair on their face.

- Wearing trousers, clapping of hands, playing the guitar, sports is all unIslamic activities to you, as they are imitating the foreigner and their ways. So says the desi cleric dressed in Arab clothes.

Signs You May Be A Bit Too ... Liberal A Muslim

- You are the master of re-interpretation. You are fond of saying 'Islam needs to be re-interpreted'. Not that faulty interpretations are to be corrected - reinterpreted.

For example, when Allah said do not drink alcohol - you have reinterpreted it to mean Allah is asking us to stop from consuming the addictive products of the day - so today we don't need to stop drinking but stay away from marijuana and the like.

- In a similar vein, mosque has become a place where Muslims meet, and where Muslims meet has become where anyone meets - therefore wherever people meet is a mosque - be it the local Starbucks.

- You are fond of saying 'atleast I don't put a cloth on my head and makeout with my boyfriend' and make out anyways.

- "The Prophet prayed in Arabic because that was his mother tongue. Today we should pray in our mother tongue." And so saying, you begin your namaaz (if you pray) with "God is great", before progressing to "Thee alone do we worship ..."

Tags: Muslim

At least he got his priorities right

"Hey," I speak to one of my friends. "I thought you were going to Bangladesh on Canada Day (July 1). Isn't your wedding a couple of days later?"

"Ya, about that," My buddy replies, "I talked to her and postponed it till two weeks later. You didn't know? Postponed it quite a while back."

"Oh really?"

"Ya," He answers with a goofy grin. "I got her to tell her father I couldn't get a holiday from work until a week later."

"Ah." I lean in closer. "So, why did you really delay the wedding?"

"Well," My friend has a really embarrassed look on his face now. "Transformers is coming out on the 3^rd of July, and I have always wanted to see that in the IMAX theaters ..."

Immigration Consultants

When we were thinking of moving to Canada, over a decade ago, the Canadian embassy was just being set up in the capital. It was a rented apartment, converted into an office, in a small, unremarkable building in an incognito part of the city. I remember going with my Dad to pick up some forms as well as some university information packages.

We took the elevator to the floor, found one hand-painted sign proclaiming 'Canadian Embassy' on a door. Pushing it open, we saw some movers shifting boxes of furniture.

"Hi," My dad walked to the empty desk marked 'information'. "I am looking for some information. Do you know where the receptionist is?"

"That," one of the movers came forward and shook our hands, "would be me."

"Oh," I interjected. "I also want to meet someone who can tell me a bit about universities in Canada."

"That," the man replied with a smile, "would be me again."

Ah! That man - was the Ambassador of Canada to that country.

That small meeting with the Ambassador, where he served us coffee from a can, a brand unknown to me then (Tim Hortons), led him to naming one of his friends who worked as an immigration consultant in the area. And it was through this guy that we, and almost countless others of our friends, applied for and obtained immigration to Canada.

From that one-man operation the embassy is now a sprawling complex with various departments to handle all its affairs, not surprising given the amount of trade and Canada's role in affairs in that part of the world nowadays. However, given the huge demand that is the result of people wanting to move to Canada, there are now hundreds of people free lancing as "immigration consultants to Canada" across the world, and many here in Toronto.

Truth be told, most of us know of at least one guy or family that are here on not exactly legal terms. They have filed for a "refugee" status while not being refugees at all, or have overstayed their visa, and what not. "Don't worry," is the usual response, "we got lawyers working on it."

The Toronto Star recently did an underground investigation into these 'consultants'. And their results are shocking. They had reporters wear wire and hidden cameras. The compiled videos are available on their website, and make for revealing findings. You should read that article and see the videos (the Karan Arora one is the best!).

I had mixed feelings when I was reading that article. Sure, not everyone comes here legally. But some people are just good honest folks who contribute to society, they are just caught on the wrong side of paperwork. But then I realized, shouldn't alarm bells start to go off when your consultant asks you to lie? When he or she says, "Don't worry, you wouldn't need to do anything, we will decide on a story for you."

What is unfortunate is that many of these 'false refugee' cases take years to settle (usually they are not approved). So after 5 years of building a life here, these immigrants have to get out of the country, are prohibited from re-entering because they have 'lied' on their application, lost tons of money. Meanwhile, the 'consultant' is free, richer and able to ply his or her trade on a new batch of immigrants.

I would blame the clients for not doing their research. But then, go to Bangladesh and go to one of these offices for these 'consultants'. They have certificates galore from everywhere to prove their 'credentials'. How would you know who is real and who is not? After all, not all immigrant consultants come recommended by an Ambassador.

A Useless Facebook Rant

1. The number of friends requests you have pending is NOT an indicator of how popular you are. Seriously, if you get your thrills by periodically looking at the number of people who want to be your friend and giving a quiet chuckle to yourself as you leave them hanging, you need therapy.
   
   
   
   On the other hand, not everyone should be your friend. I just met you. I don't need you to add me to your Facebook. I don't need you to see all my albums of my wild graduation party at the Keg convocation - remember ... I ... JUST ... MET ... you.
   
   Also, you really shouldn't be adding me. You are friends with the eleven year old kid I call my cousin. You shouldn't even BE on Facebook. Ah the good old days when Facebook was restricted to university students and alumni!
   
   
2. Your birthday should not be an indication of pseudo popularity. True friends remember your birthday. I call someone to wish them 'happy birthday'.
   
   'Ya,' he replies, 'but remember to wish me on Facebook.'
   
   
   
   WHAT?!! Again, the number of people who wish you HAPPY BIRTHDAY on Facebook does NOT translate to real life bosom buddies.
   
   
3. If you really want to increase the bonds of friendship with all your friends, do a bollywood lookalike album for all of them! *grin* Nothing will endear you more to them than comparing them to Mithun (or even better, Mamooty!).
   
   
   
   
4. And finally, "poking". What a useless thing to do!
   
   
   
   And what fun!

Why Nancy Will Kick Harry's Ass

I have to admit - I have not read a single Harry Potter book completely (on that account I haven't seen any of the Shreks either). I read a bit and then gave up. I saw all the Harry Potter movies (and I think only Azkaban was really good, Philosopher's Stone (or Sorcerer's Stone - can someone clear up the confusion) was passable, the rest all snoozeworthy). So I am one of those who are not going to camp outside the bookstore dressed like a witch and address each others as "muggle"s on Jul 21. I only know about the release date because I have been forced persuaded to buy a book for my sibling.

Don't get me wrong, I am not doubting J.K Rowling's literary prowess. When I saw each of the movies, I was amazed at how much she has going on there - and how many aspects of the story all tie in together. It's a proper fantasy - she has witches, magic, dragons, mythical beasts etc. all woven together with a little bit of mystery that gets solved in the end. Yet, I can't help but think - it's all so COMMON. For example, when growing up, I used to read Bengali fairy tales (yes, it wasn't all Hans Christian Anderson for me). There's Moha Upponnash, Thakurmaar Jhuli to name a few. There there was the famous Arabian Nights.

All of them told stories of demons so strong, yet their life was contained in a blue bird hidden in some silver cage. There was the ponkhiraaj - or the horse with wings. There was the talking snake. What J.K. Rowling has done is take all these ancient legends and fables and somehow packaged them all in a nice mix, palatable to the common people, and has done it well. She deserves every bit of her success.

Yet, there is something in the not-so-literary-masterpieces that I read as a child which is far, far better than Harry Potter. I am referring to the mystery series by writers such as Enid Blyton. When you read Harry Potter, you cannot dream of having the same adventures as a boy wizard (or there's something seriously wrong with you). But you can dream of being a member of the Famous Five and solving mysteries, or being a Secret Seven and having a clubhouse. Harry Potter's school? Yuck - go read The Malory Towers or The St. Clare's series by Blyton. Far more adventure but far more realistic.

And then of course there's Nancy Drew or Hardy Boys. Yes, the authors were not real, and yes, it was very formulaic ("and the last thing Nancy heard was a sharp blow, and then it all went black. Next chapter."). But it was so much fun! Harry Potter - 700 pages - that's not a leisurely story book - that's a dictionary!

And the final reason why Nancy Drew and her compatriots would kick Harry Potter's ass. Harry's only power is magic - that he cannot use in the real world. Nancy - she has wits (everyone knows where Harry's wits are - Hermione Granger). So using her wits and her legendary karate skills - Nancy will kick Harry's ass every time. Beaten by a girl, Harry, how do you like that?

And now Nancy has her own movie too!

Good or Bad Signs

Signs That Your Parents Are Thinking About Someone's Marriage
(played to the tune of Somebody Is Gonna Get Hurt by Russel Peters)

(Note, I said someone's marriage, so no stupid comments about moi!)

1. Your mother asks you if there is a hyphen between the words 'bio' and 'data'.
   
2. Your father suddenly has Hossain uncle from the travel agency on speed dial.
   
3. Your cousins are downloading henna patterns from the Web, and it's not even Eid.
   
4. Your mother is suddenly friends with that "flower lady" from the local mall.

If you are a guy:

1. Your mother goes "maybe it's time you did a Ph.D?" even though it's zero significance to your job.
   
2. When you are planning a Vegas trip, your parents hint that you should save that 2G for a more "fruitful" trip.

If you are a girl:

1. Your mother (it's the mother again!) suddenly going "maybe we should ALL eat more vegetables" *hint hint*.
   
2. Your mother signs your email up at the "Daily Indian Recipes Made Easy" website.
   
3. Suddenly you are being invited to all these ladies' tafseers.
   
4. A phone call from the local telemarketer selling you long distance to Jamaica becomes a source of concern to your father because it was a guy on the phone.

Feel free to add to the list.

The Story of a School Exhibit

A very interesting incident happened yesterday at a local high school in Toronto. I am not giving any links to the news story or pictures to protect the identity, but it provoked quite the debate.

The assignment was to build an exhibit, themed around corporations' influence on our way of life. Basically, the teacher wanted these students (Grade 8, mind you) to explore what would happen if corporations indeed took over many aspects of our lives. So what does one (Muslim) student do? She built a model of the Kabaa, but attached to each sides of the Kaaba were stickers, one of KFC, one of McDonalds, and a couple of other corporations. So basically, corporations had taken over the Grand Mosque of Mecca. McKaaba?



When I first heard of this exhibit - I thought now here is a true piece of art! Art is supposed to be provocative, and this exhibit suceeded in pushing all the right buttons! If you didn't know, corporations have truly been taking over the holiest of Muslim lands.

For example, now you can stay at Makkah Hilton, built right next to the Kaaba. Their website states "Wake up to an Art Deco-style room offering Kaaba or Holy Haram Mosque views, opening windows, and a seating area. Get to work at the workstation, relax with a newspaper on the sofa or refresh in the luxury bathroom. The Twin City/Haram Tower 6 rooms have a kitchenette."

Right next to the hotel is a shopping outlet, offering KFC, Burger King, etc. for all your shopping needs. So it would seem our young high school student wasn't that far off the mark after all! And it's not just their presence, these corporations have impressed upon the powers that be to destroy Islamic heritage sites (in the name of religion) to make way for even more of their presence [source].

So what happened at this school once this exhibit was present amongst other exhibits? Suddenly, a bunch of young Muslim men in that school decided it was up to them to defend the honor of Islam. So saying good bye to their girlfriends, taking a last sniff of their dope, snuffing out their cigarettes and chucking their half-empty beer cans into the bins, they marched en masse to the principal's office.

It was a near riot. Shouting, gesturing, threatening the student who made the exhibit with dire consequences, they forced the principal to act. She of course marched to where the exhibit was being held, told the student in no uncertain terms that exhibits were meant to foster the learning spirit and not to insult, and asked her to take down the exhibit. The mob went back to whatever they were doing.

It's a pity that the principal could not support the student who made the exhibit, or at least give her the option of defending her work, and succumbed to mob rule. The first place young people learn Canadian values of diversity, freedom of speech, peaceful resolving of differences, is our schools. Yet today, we have a group of youngsters who learnt that mob rule works.

Tariq Ramadan at York

I attended Dr Tariq Ramadan’s speech on Canadian Muslims and Citizenship at York yesterday. Lately I had been running into many bloggers, and it was no different last night. I met Safiyyah Ally, the host of Let The Quran Speak on a local T.V. channel here, who formerly used to maintain a blog and now writes as one of many at Disconnected Verses. Accompanying her was Asmaa of Randomly Placed. In fact, when another woman stopped me and went “Hey, Mezba!” I half expected her to be another blogger.

“Your face looks so familiar!” I told her, trying to think of where I had seen her.

“Idiot!” She replied, “It’s me, your cousin!”

What can I say, some girls look TOTALLY different in hijab!

The official title of the talk was Canadian Muslims And Citizenship – Roles and Responsibility. Dr Ramadan started with his observations that now Western Muslims seem to be categorizing themselves into two generalizations – the invisible “I am a Muslim but not practicing” or the “super angry, agitated and isolation-minded Muslim”. Then he said there are politicians who on one hand implore the Muslims to “integrate into society” yet by their actions, legislations and policies provoke the Muslims and push the right buttons to get an emotional negative reaction out of them. In the midst of all this, he said, it is our duty as Canadian Muslims to negotiate a middle path. Thus began his talk on how.

Before delving into the details, he gave a few objectives for Muslims here. First, he said, Muslims have to be sure they remain true to themselves, remain Muslims and live an Islamic life to the best of their efforts. At the very same time, they have a responsibility to the society in which they live. And then Dr Ramadan brought up the Canadian society.

It is a problem, he said, that many Muslims nowadays idealize Muslim countries when the rules of many non-Muslim or secular countries follow Islamic principles more. It is the duty of Muslims, he said, to reinforce the good in society and work to eradicate the evil. How, he asked, will you do that if you isolate yourself – you do not recognize the inherent good that is present in this society and in the hearts of Canadians, and similarly, he implored, how will you eradicate the evil if you do not study it, do not understand it or where it comes from?

Don’t be agitated, he said. Muslims are quick to react emotionally yet the Prophet always spoke softly, after much deliberation and thinking. A fast speaker is speaking on emotion, yet we have to have a vision, which means not reacting to every provocation. Having laid his groundwork, he now went on to specifics.

Respect yourself. If you don’t respect yourself, you cannot expect others to.

How do you behave with your parents? Lot of older Canadians, he pointed out, are unhappy with their kids because the kids grew up with the materialistic viewpoint of the 70s and have now sent the parents to old age homes to be lonely. Canada, like all Western nations, have an aging population and Muslims have to behave well with these older folk and that means starting at home.

Don’t be judgmental. You have to love the people you wish to change. You cannot go to a drug addict and look at him as a sinner and then preach to him. You have to love him. You wish to change him because you love him. Leave the judgement upto Allah and do your best to change the man. In other words, hate the sin, not the sinner.

Learn to forgive. A lot of people can get even, but truly not a lot can forgive. The Prophet, he pointed out, changed many of his enemies to friends simply by forgiveness. He told us to look up the story of Lubaba in the Prophet’s seerah.

One Quran, but many readings. Dr Ramadan reminded me of Dr Suwaidan here, when he again repeated that while there may be one straight path, there’s many different ways on that path. There are no second class Muslims, and Muslims have to learn to deal with the divisions and diversity of opinions that exist within the Muslim sphere before they can learn to deal with the greater diversity in our society. No one is a lesser Muslim because they do some things differently than you or I.

Be consistent in our standards and behavior.

Don’t just concentrate on Islamic education but also avail worldly education. Comparing Muslims of the past, he said not only we had scholars and muftis of religion but also of the worldly affairs. A scholar, he said, must remain in the service of the community. Today, he lamented, it’s the other way around.

Be vigilant of your rights. You have rights as a citizen but no government is going to protect it indefinitely. You have to remain aware politically, as well as contribute to this society. Get rid of this victim mentality and be an agent of change.

He concluded by reiterating his five Cs (Confidence, Critical Mind, Communication, Consistency, Creativity) and added a bonus C of Courage. There was Q and A session afterwards, on which his answers to the questions on hijab, the unfriendly (or not) media and the myth of conflict between Western and Islamic beliefs were outstanding.

It was a 2 hr talk and I am not doing justice to his really excellent speech as there are far more points and specifics that he delved into. Besides, as I said, some women really look different in hijab. Distractions, distractions!

Crappy Tire

I recently needed to buy a bike rack for my car. With the onset of summer, I have been actively biking around a lot lately, and Toronto is a great city for scenic bike trails. With this intent, I went to Canadian Tire.

The store near our place was being renovated, so the usual organization of stuff was lost. I went to the "Bikes" section and could not see the rack. Then I went to the "Auto" section. Similar results. No rack.

After searching helplessly for a few minutes,I flagged down one sales lady.

"Excuse me," I asked her, fully oblivious to what I was saying, "Do you have a rack?"

It took a full minute before I understood why the buxom lady was giving me the look. A minute during which I repeated, "A RACK! Do you have a RACK?" and then gestured with my hands for good effect.

Oops!

Ex-Squeeze me, lady?

Blogmeet at Pickle Barrel

Me: Please, be good.

My Hair: No. I was good for two days.

Me: Really?

Hair: Yes. I was good on Friday because Nowal was coming to town and your friends were throwing a dinner. I was good on Saturday because you were attending Desifest and meeting other bloggers and friends there ...

Me: Aren't you redefining 'good'? You were barely tolerable yesterday ...

Hair: Chup! I was GOOD yesterday, check your pictures. But three days in a row is too much to ask.

Me: No please, I beg you. I am meeting some bloggers today for lunch, I need you to be good.

Hair: Sorry, apparently there is a hadith somewhere that you can only expect hospitality to continue for three days only. I have already accommodated you.

Me: So? Today is the third day. And as for that hadith ...

Hair: Sorry. You are not counting Thursday.

Me: What? I was at work! That doesn't count. Please.... I beg you. Be good today! I am meeting Liya and Ahmed for the first time...

Hair: Sorry. No can do. I am going to look like you slept in a tub of Dabur Amla oil.

Me: You know what. I am gonna drive at 140 km per hour on the highway and let the wind through and completely mess you up.

20 min later: Hair 1. Mezba 0. Rain 2.

SO I had lunch with Ahmed, Samosa, Isheeta, Ruby and Liya.

Excerpt 1:

Isheeta: So which way is Pickle Barrel?
Ruby: This way.
Me (under breath to Ahmed): And we follow directions from a woman ...
Ruby: I HEARD THAT.
Me: Uh oh.

Excerpt 2:

Liya: You are taking a picture of your lunch?
Me: Um, ya.... sorry, it's for my blog.

[something only bloggers will understand]

My lunch a.k.a. 'simulated crap' according to the waitress!

Seafood Salad.

So what can I tell you about those guys(and girls)? They are great. Exceptionally down to earth yet very good and kind hearted people - something that is very rare nowadays. For Liya, her students are lucky to have such a cool teacher. Samosa and Isheeta, you make a dynamic duo. Ahmed, I must say this, even as a straight guy, WHAT BICEPS yaar. And Ruby, you give very good directions.

At the Desifest 2007

If you don't know the lyrics to a Punjabi song, just shout, at every 5 seconds interval, "Oye HOYE!" and you'll be with it. For additional effect, add a "Harippa" every now and then.

Similarly, if you don't know how to dance to the bhangra, simply raise your hand. No wonder Sikhs are such smart people, present everywhere. Their national dance is "Present, teacher".


(Check out the front row.)

If you are Bengali, don't expect any Bengali item on the itinery. Desi = Indian = Punjabi = Bhangra as far as anyone is concerned. Meanwhile, buy the t-shirt 'Bang a Bangladeshi'.

If you are a white guy, PLEASE don't dance the bhangra. Or move to the dhol. Or do ANY SORT of dance. People might clap at you, but we still think you are crazy.


White Dude Dancing.

Guess what Nowal's favourite chocolate is.


(A: It's Cadbury.)

Samosa and Isheeta run into me. I point them to this sign.


No Samosa For You

Apparently, I am not a true desi if I don't like eating bhutta (roasted corn). Now you tell me, does this look appetizing?


Like yours well done?

Meanwhile, going back to our white dancer friend:

Make video montages at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Click here if the plugin (above) is not visible, or for a larger version.

No Below 30 Maids

Renuka Chowdhury, the Indian minister of women and child development, has called for a ban on women under 30 to work as maids in the Gulf in a bid to curb sex trafficking.

While any attempt to improve the lot of poor women and children should be supported, it always vexes me when people try to cure the symptom rather than the disease. If your roof is leaking, you can't put a bucket under the leak and say all is well. Soon the bucket will overflow, leading to spillage on the carpet. Bacteria will grow in the stagnant water. Meanwhile your crack in the ceiling which caused the leak in the first place will continue to grow bigger.

Maids, abuse of maids and sex trafficking occur in the Middle East due to the complex nature of the society living in the oil rich states. First, the very example of the Prophet that is given in order to justify polygamy is completely ignored when it comes to household duties. The Prophet used to patch his own sandals, sew his own garments, searched his garment for lice himself, milked his sheep, and helping his wives with the household chores (Tirmidhi 5822). Yet today, in a typical rich household in the Middle East, there are maids to tend to the household tasks, nannies to take care of the babies, drivers to chauffeur the family, gardeners to tend to the lawn and so on. This culture of laziness has also caused a huge problem in modernizing the country - locals tend to ignore education (as their parents have huge oil wealth anyways). Ironically, the most interested in pursuing higher education with due diligence tend to be the females. So, where a family would require at most one maid, you have a whole army of servants tending to their every need.

Second, there is a superior belief, or arrogance if you will, about the supremacy of one race. This leads to looking down on many others as "rafeek", "miskeen" or what have you. Where else is it part of the culture to attend camel races where the jockeys are kidnapped children from Asia, malnourished to maintain a lower weight, and abused by trainers? Why did no one speak against such a vile and rampant practice for so long? Would any local permit his own kid to be a camel jockey? It is this sense of supremacy, of a feeling of one law for the locals and one for the foreign riff-raff, that ultimately leads to maid abuse.

Third, one has to examine WHY these local boys, sometimes as young as 14, look at the maids with lust. Is society causing unnecessary hindrance to natural inter-mingling of men and women that boys (and sometimes girls) have to resort to unorthodox manners to quench their subjugated thirst?

And finally, the fault must also lie with the governments of the subcontinent that knowingly allows its women to serve as maids abroad. They know they themselves have failed to alleviate poverty, to create employment and to structure social welfare programs. So while they busy themselves trying to legislate who can hug whom or tearing down video stores, they will turn a blind eye to the plight of women and children from their own shores being potentially abused as they just try to feed themselves and their family.

And everyone of them is Muslim!

7 Random Facts Meme

Suroor tagged me here. She wants to know 7 random facts about me.

1. My favourite comic book character is not Spiderman or Superman, but Tintin the reporter.

2. I love Matchbox cars. I love collecting them. So far I have more than 50 of those models and have to hide the collection whenever kids visit the house.

3. If I go on a road trip with my friends and I am not driving, I can NOT go to sleep. I would be consumed by the fear of the incompetence of the current driver. What if he crashes? If I get hit, I won't even KNOW if I am sleeping.

4. At one time, I simultaneously had a pair of lovebirds, a 90 gallon aquarium full of tropical fish, a cat and a hamster in the house.

5. I still have a MacGyver poster on my closet door. So what, he was the best.

6. I am fascinated by the concept of time travel. I think it's possible, but one can only be an observer, not an active actor.

7. Photography is my hobby and I print almost every picture I take. People have a collection of DVDs. I have a collection of albums.

When Talent Meant Something

In the old days, you needed talent to do something. Take for example a mundane tasks such as watching TV.

When we were in the Middle East, during the early days, there were no 24 hour channels broadcasting the latest desi soaps into our homes. All channels were Arabic, started at noon, and showed camel racing for the better part of the day. There was one channel, Channel 33, broadcast from a neighboring country, that showed a Hindi movie every Thursday night (the weekend night there).

Oh, how we would all wait for that movie. By the way, disregard complaints of adults that nowadays Hindi movies have gone too Western and show scantily-clad women in provocative poses. The 80s films all had a dance in the rain with the heroine in a white semi-transparent sari, 1 mandatory titillating rape scene followed by an obligatory maa-ka-doodh-piya-to-bahar-aja scene. In other words, family viewing.

But watching the channel used to be an art - and our family was the expert in that. We had an antenna for catching that elusive channel. Improvisations, such as twisted chicken wire, were added to it to 'boost the signal'. Thursdays our home would revert to something like this with dad calling out instructions:

"Ok you, go there, and twist the wire at a 45 degree angle."

"Alright, now sit at that position, OK? Don't move, and you will rotate with your siblings on every song."

Periodically a tap was needed into the antennae to achieve a clear signal. You had to tap it properly, at the right place with the right force otherwise you would miss the climax of the movie. Weather forecasts came into play, if it was a rainy day a metallic cloth hanger would be added to the wire to amplify the already enhanced signal.


Then came Zee TV. Our Arab landlord decided he too wanted to catch the latest Salman Khan video so we got Zee TV. And life was never the same again. Flip on the TV, the channel was there. All our skills of catching Channel 33 - gone!

Then there was of course the Camera Man Uncle. This uncle used to be seen at weddings, usually by himself, yet he was the most sought-after uncle. He had a huge black camera slung from his shoulders. Every now and then, some overdressed aunty with lots of make up or some young twenty-something girl with lots of jewelery and giggling uncontrollably would approach him and ask him to take a picture of their group of similarly giggling friends. Uncle would arise from his slumber, pretend to think about it for a minute, and then grunt a disinterested 'yes'.

He would then ask the ladies to pose. And scold them because the first picture would always be spoiled by someone. And the ladies, fearful of being on his blacklist, would do their best to oblige his strange requests, such as "You, come in front. You! to the side. And bhabi, you! to the centre please."

And then of course the girls (or ladies) would bug him for days after until he got to developing the prints. And they would be given, again with a remonstration of why they are not good subjects for pictures and when, back in the day when he was in Bombay, he could shoot Sri Devi and why she was a perfect model.

Nowadays, this uncle has been emasculated by the digital camera. Even my kid brother has one!

"Hey, take our picture, please." [At least he said 'please']

All of a sudden, as you are at a wedding wondering how to bypass the food line, when a camera with numbers such as Zikon 23.5 OPS23/22 is thrust into your hands. You take the picture. Criticism rather than thanks follows.

"Oh man, my eyes are closed. You didn't even say 1-2-3! You just went 1-2-click! Who DOES that? Here, take it again!"

And then, some other kid interrupts, "Oh don't worry. I have Photoshop x.z It has a program for handling bad pictures. We just have to correct the lighting co efficiency by a factor of 0.45, and increase the RGB value of the picture, with slight focus on increasing the R part." And off they go.

Sigh! The 80s.

The Tech Letter

Please explain the following to me.

From: Tech. Support Group.
To: Me.

We have analyzed the error report and regret to inform you that the Microsoft Wireless Notebook Optical Mouse 3000 you purchased is incompatible with Windows XP Service Pack 2. It's a known software issue. The problem can be rectified by upgrading to a more compatible mouse.

Last time I checked, Microsoft made Windows, right? You would think their software would be compatible with their own hardware ...

Lameass Conversations of The Week - 3

"How do you know," my fellow Torontonian cousin asked me, as we all gathered in Ottawa for a family reunion, "that we are no longer in Toronto?"

"Hmm," I pondered, "how?"

"When you realize that white people are really the majority in this country, and brown people a minority, and the fact that there actually exists Canadians who speak French."

* * *

I read an article that said "a mother's cells can migrate to her fetus and remain long after baby grows up" as thus:

Cells can migrate from mother to fetus and remain in their new home long after baby becomes an adult. A number of researchers are now investigating whether these cells cause disease or fight it, and whether most of us are living with our mothers and don't know it. [the Globe]

"Wow, this is a cool article," I thought as I emailed it to my mother, along with a message "Happy Mother's Day".

Mom emailed back, "Thank you, but remember you have to mow the lawn, water the garden, wash the car and vacuum the house."

"Tomorrow," I emailed back.

"Hmm," Was her reply, "I think you got more of your father's cells than mine."

* * *

"Remember," My Extra-Methodical-Aunt told her 10-year-old daughter, "as soon as the salesperson sees that you like it, he will try to increase the price. He knows he's got you! So be nonchalant, aloof, and talk to me in Bengali if you like what you see."

"Mom," Vexed daughter replied, "we are going to a garage sale!"

Link: Previous Lameness

Tasneem Khalil's Arrest

I was away in Ottawa so did not have the facilities to post on this - but as I write this, Tasneem Khalil has now been freed. It was an extra-ordinary 24 hours that saw the mainstream media in Bangladesh silent on the arrest of such a notable journalist, while it was his blogger colleagues around the world who rallied behind him and lobbied to secure his release. His crime - Khalil wrote a Human Rights Watch report about the elite Bangladeshi security forces and its alleged participation in torture and extra-judicial killings.

Both CNN and BBC carry a good background to his story. When the new military backed government took power in Bangladesh and vowed to root out corruption, all of us ordinary Bengalis rejoiced. We should have known "history repeats itself". When Musharref ousted Nawaz Sharif, the Pakistanis who were tired of corruption masquerading as democracy rejoiced at 'accountability in politics'. Today Pakistan is no better than it was on that fateful day when the military took over in Islamabad.

The only difference in Bangladesh is that the military is behind the scenes, hiding under the facade of a caretaker government that had long forgotten what its purpose was - to weed out corrupt politicians and hold democratic elections.

The English have a saying - 'absolute power corrupts absolutely'. It seems to fit Bangladesh aptly.

For more information and links visit Rezwan.

On Turkey, Desis in Canada

On Turkey:

Whenever I read about Turkey nowadays, and the problems they are having with electing a President, I keep reading about one thing.

The ruling party's candidate for President, Abdullah Gul, has a headscarf wearing wife.

What the f*** has this to do with anything? She wears a hijab, doesn't wear a hijab, how does this affect his Presidency? Why is a woman's cloth given so much importance?

You know, it's all well and good to fight for the right to be not forcible hijabified, which is what they are now claiming Turkey's women are afraid of. But what about those women in Turkey, in France, in Germany, who want to wear the hijab and cannot? Who speaks for their lack of freedom?

On Desis in Canada:

The Toronto Star recently launched a magazine exclusively for South Asians in Toronto, called Desi Life. One of the people interviewed for one story was this blogger, and that article is here.

Beware of these hijabis

Also, I always believed it is sunnah to know how to defend yourself in a fight. Hail the Ninjabis.

Meaning Of Words

One of my cousins visited us recently and we went to one of his friend's place. The guy had a cute one and half year old daughter called Shoma. She always had a smile on her face and you could see in her eyes that she was a mischievous kid. Since I didn't know anyone there, and my cousin and his friend were mostly reminiscing about their (now long past) school days, it was Shoma and me. And her grandma, who never got tired of telling me exactly what Shoma's latest word was since this morning. Shoma brought along ALL of her toys to me (according to her grandma, she never does this).

I have noticed kids either love me or hate me. Much like girls.

So the father comes into the room to see me pretending to listen to grandma, feigning interest in Shoma's dolls and trying to watch the Raptors game. So he decides he has to make a remark, and goes, "Wow, Shoma's taken quite a shine to you!"

"Yes," I replied without thinking, "she's very cute. I think she'll be one impish girl when she grows up."

"Impish?" The father raised an eyebrow. "Never heard that word before. What does it mean?"

"Oh," I paused to reflect.

Now all of you who are brought up in the British school system or in an English speaking country know what "impish" means, right? In this context it means "naughty in a cute way", "playful", or "teasingly mischievous". I told him so.

It's a nice meaning, right?

"Oh, ok." He smiled and left. I thought that was that, and went back to watching the Raptors blow an 85-71 lead.

"Wait," the father had suddenly returned. He had in his hand a dictionary.

Can you imagine that? Who takes something a guest says and then goes to check it in a dictionary? Hello? Didn't I just tell you what it meant? No, you had to go bring a dictionary and then find the word again in front of me. And it wasn't your Oxford Junior English dictionary either. It was - get this - Samsad English-Bengali dictionary. Written by some Bengali guy, with probably no knowledge of context, common usage or common sense for that manner.

This is what the father read aloud.

Imp. In common folklore, evil fairy or devil child. Adjective: Impish. ...

I guess this is one child whose birthday party I won't be invited to in the future.

The Aunty's Gripe

I thought this only happened in an old joke, but the following incident truly occurred!

An Aunty had come to visit Mom. Following is a snippet of their conversation.

"So, has your new daughter-in-law moved in?" Mom asked. She didn't know what she was getting into. "Didn't she get admitted to Ryerson?"

"Oh, yes. She did." Aunty replied, straightening herself into 'complain' mode. "You know, sometimes I wish we had spent a little bit longer in getting my son married. We should have continued to look at more prospects!"

"Oh?" Mom tried to fake polite disinterest as she realized where this conversation was heading. Aunty didn't take the hint.

"Yes," she continued. "My daughter-in-law, what can I tell you about her. LAZY NO. 1."

"Ah."

"Yes! She doesn't even get up in the morning to make breakfast for my son! I mean, he has to make his own cup of tea and sandwich and go to work. She doesn't even make lunch for him! Sleeps till 9 o'clock, can you imagine? This is what I get for bringing a girl from Bangladesh!"

"Well ..." Mom was trying, to no avail, to steer the conversation away.

"And another thing," Aunty was on a roll. "You'd think she'd prepare a home cooked dinner for him, but no! Every other day they are going out to eat! I mean, we are home! Sometimes they should eat with us!"

"I heard," Mom finally cut in, "your son-in-law is a gem."

"Oh, absolutely!" Aunty positively started beaming. "He's one in a million. He loves my daughter so much! Princess - that's what he calls her! He doesn't even let her wake up in the morning, says a 'princess needs her beauty sleep' - so cute! Gets up early in the morning to pray Fajr, and makes wonderful tea, and when I visit he makes me my morning tea too! My daughter lives in luxury. You know how good a cook my daugher is, but even then he takes her out for dinner every other day! Such a LOVING husband!"

The Prophet's Challenge

Do not show me a verse saying women have to wear the hijab.
Show me an instance where the Prophet jailed someone for not covering up.

Do not show me a hadith about how long the Prophet’s beard was,
Did the Prophet ever criminalize shaving in his laws?

There are ample examples of his kindness and his gentle smile,
Yet show me where the Prophet punished a boy for having the wrong hairstyle?

Yes, I know praying 5 times a day is mandatory.
But beating someone who doesn't is not the way of my Nabi.

And while we are at it ...

Did my Prophet cut off the breasts of a mannequin?

Did my Prophet regulate the color of the scarf?

Let’s see what the first words of Prophet Muhammad, as leader of Medina, as the head of the world’s first truly Islamic state, was.

It wasn’t a dress regulation, or a crackdown on music, or mandating the beard’s length.

Ya aiuhan nas

O people.

Ibsus Salam

Exchange the greetings of peace with one another.

Wa atimut tawaam

Feed those who are hungry.

Wa sallu bil laili wannaasu niyam

Pray in the night when the rest of the people are asleep.

Idkhulul jannata bissalaam

Surely you will enter Paradise in peace.

The reason why Iran is cracking down on head scarves, T-shirts, hairstyles etc. is not because they want to make things more 'Islamic' - it's because they failed the Prophet's Challenge of delivering basic services to the people. Food. Water. Social Programs. Education. Cost of Living.

Some commentators have suggested that the government is conducting this crackdown to distract attention from the rising cost of living in Iran and increasing tension with the international community over the nuclear issue.

Aliens, Islam and New Earth

I read of the discovery of a new Earth-like planet with interest.

Astronomers have found the most Earth-like planet outside our Solar System to date, a world which could have water running on its surface.
.
.
.
They say the benign temperatures on the planet mean any water there could exist in liquid form, and this raises the chances it could also harbour life.

One of the first television series I watched with any regularity was Star Trek TNG. The fantasy world of starships exploring galaxies and aliens had never failed to fire my imagination. Of course in my role playing the Federation captain was Muslim and often he would say "Mr Riker you have the bridge" and then go to the ready room to say his prayers! How he would find the Qiblah ten light years away from Sector 001 and what prayers he would pray at warp speed were details not to be bothered with at the tender age of ten.

I had often wondered - what Islam says about the possible existence of alien life? For example, the first verse of the first chapter of the Quran ends with "Praise be to Allah, Lord of the Worlds".

Worlds. Plural. Why did He use the plural - does it mean there are worlds besides ours? Other planets containing life, or parallel universes? Or just a translation using the royal form of Old English?

Then there is this verse when Allah tells the angels "I will create a vicegerent on earth" referring to man (Adam) [2:30]. Now, humans are appointed as God's deputy on Earth. Could He have appointed some other creature a vicegerent on some other planet?

I am of course confident we won't be invaded by smarter aliens because "Do ye not see that Allah has subjected to your (use) all things in the heavens and on earth ..." [31:20]. Maybe this is why we haven't received any radio signals from that new "Super-Earth" planet they discovered - those aliens just aren't as smart as humans.

It's great that we discovered such a planet - now we have something to aim for. I hope the day when we can travel faster than light is closer than it seems. I am sure there will be a way to make it into a reality now that we have something to aim for. I still have a newspaper cutting of when they discovered the first extra-solar planet, now there's more than 200 known.

The Quran is of course clear on the existence of other intelligent forms of life - there's the angels, and then there's the Jinn with whom we apparently share this planet. Although if you believe the stories we were told on summer nights in our village in Bangladesh at a bonfire when the power would go out, Jinns apparently have a whole kingdom on the planet of Uranus.

I don't know, if I were a being with the power of inter planetary travel I would probably choose Mars. Then of course, there is the story of the Jinn in the Bermuda Triangle.

No Biscuit For You

Customer service - two words that seem to be missing from the vocabulary of brown service people.

I don’t know if it’s just me, but I get no satisfactory customer service from desi people. Even when the business says Satisfaction Guaranteed! I mean c’mon – it’s in that blue board behind you! I am supposed to be no. 1!

I am at Tim Horton’s – getting breakfast. It’s supposed to be this delicious egg and cheese inside a tea-biscuit. The woman hands me something that feels a little too hard to be a tea-biscuit. I open and it and peek inside. It’s the stuff, but inside a bagel.

“Hello?” I wave the bagel around. “This is a bagel.”

“Oh, we ran out of tea-biscuits,” Was her answer.

She didn’t even ask, or bother to inform. And just for clarification, before I paid for the stuff, I had asked the cashier if they had tea biscuits still.

This was not an isolated incident. The bank closest to us is filled with people of Eastern European descent – and we have been banking there for over a decade. The customer service is exemplary. However, a branch of the same bank near my aunt’s is staffed with all desi people – mostly Indian. The service? Down the drain. You are waiting in the line – no one comes to ask you what you are here for. You want to find someone to see what line you should be queuing up at, there is no one to answer your questions. The ‘good morning’ when you reach the cashier is said with the vitriol of a guy having his appendix out, and mistakes made are not even apologized for.

If you are not desi I would be interested to know if you have similar experiences. My theory is that desis take other fellow desis for granted. They know we don’t usually complain to a manager, we don’t fill out those customer review cards, we are usually too polite and accept what may.

For the record I returned that bagel.

Yay for small gestures.

Hello Doctor

I really don’t like going to the doctor. It’s an unnerving experience. First, they make you wait in that big waiting hall. That’s ok – I can read the latest medical journals and brush up on my microbiology research. Those magazines and their articles on the latest study done on cancer rates of Himalayan rats are so interesting. What I hate is waiting in that little room they take you into when your name comes up. Now you got nothing to do but stare at the wall, where one brightly colored poster cheerfully announces “You may have Hepatitis B already!” Wow, gee thanks.

My doctors can be the sort of Jekyll and Hyde characters. One hardly speaks 5 words.

How are you? … OK… You have *insert random disease here* … take 2 teaspoons of *insert random scribble on notepad here* and see if the symptoms disappear in two weeks. NEXT!

Or there’s the other one. He seems to spend all the time with you – which is good – unless you happen to be waiting in that little room staring at the Hepatitis B poster while you can hear the doctor in the next room talking about his stock portfolio to the patient before you.

Today I got the second doctor, and thankfully the clinic was virtually empty. I was the last patient, and I had only come to get his signature on some form. He beckoned me to step into his office and took the form.

“Ah, you.” He pretended to recognize me while perusing through my file. “How come I don’t see you here more often? You last came two years ago! You should come more often.”

Wow, really? Sorry doctor, I will make a better effort. I didn’t realize one had to get sick so often.

“The clinic’s virtually empty.” I tried to make small talk. “I seem to be the last one in today!”

“Ya, and you are not even sick!” My doctor actually seemed sad at that fact. “It must mean the guy at the pharmacy downstairs must actually be reading my prescriptions correctly.”

He turned to me, expecting a laugh.

“Ha. Ha.” I said, finally getting it, and hoping he was really joking.

“I should get the car serviced if no one comes after you.” My doctor signed my form. “Can’t get my wife to take it to the mechanic for me.”

“Oh.” I uttered, not knowing what to say.

“Yah, she can’t drive manual. It’s a stickshift.”

“Oh,” I nodded.

The doctor stood up and winked at me.

“WHY do you think I got a stickshift? HAHAHA....!”

My goodness. Maybe I have something to learn from this guy after all …

A Movie And A Show

I watched a good movie over the weekend. It's Namastey London. On one side you can say as per the movie all young British desis are club going vodka-sipping dancers who are in love with white people that are secretly racist and unfaithful lovers.

On the other hand, you can say the movie depicts the life of one young spoilt desi girl who is a coconut - brown on the outside but white all the way through - whose troubled Indian father decides the best way to control his daughter would be to take her to India on the pretext of a vacation - and get her married off by force to an Indian guy from Punjab. What follows that idea is the crux of the movie.

The movie is a complete entertainer and works without going into exaggerations that Hindi movies are prone to take. Akshay Kumar wants to win the love of his wife but you don't see any of the cliche scenes where a group of thugs will try to harass Katrina Kaif and he has to fight ten men with bare hands. Speaking of Kaif she looks like a million bucks and her Anglo-Indian accent is very believable.

Lot of other issues (racism/generation gap/fobbiness) were raised in the movie, but what I took back after it ended was the song 'Viraaniya'. It was such a melodious tune!

Speaking of acting and Indian, we had our Boisakhi (Bengali new year) party on the weekend. It was mostly composed of our friends and families (Bangladeshis) who had moved to Canada from the Middle East. One of the skits involved a reporter for BTV interviewing Sachin Tendulkar after India lost to Bangladesh in the World Cup. And of course Tendulkar was played by yours truly *cough*

It was a blast, as the reporter asked him why India lost and 'Tendulkar' replied (in that high pitched voice), "Well we were busy doing ads the night before the game - you know important stuff." And then 'he' starts touting Nirma - the washing detergent - during the interview.



I could not but help think if you are a kid born and brought up here whose parents took them to such Bengali functions and other cultural and religious events, maybe you won't feel so out of touch with your brown-ness when the time comes to get married.

The House Slave Syndrome

I visited someone in Oakville the other day. Bengali guy, new house in a new subdivision, housewarming party and all that. In the middle of showing me the house, the uncle turned to me and said, "You know what's the best part of this area? All around, for miles, no desis. All white people!"

He positively beamed as he said this.

I could only stare. I wish I could find it in me to be rude and reply, "Well, uncle, too bad your neighbours can't say the same thing!"

Sure, I can understand some of the issues if you live in an area where there's lots of Bengali people. I sympathize with you if you have to go to Crescent Town to deliver a pack of sweets to Kulsum Aunty because your brother got his G2 driver's license, and God forbid should you talk to any girl on the way there, because 4th floor's Rohima Aunty, the BBC of aunties, is ever Watching, and will report how you went on and on with the daughter from the new family who had just arrived from Kuwait, all because she held the door open for you as you had forgotten Kulsum Aunty's buzzer number.

Yes, that can be a problem.

But some people wear their dislike of people of their own race as a badge of honour, and this I cannot stomach.

For some reason, I just can't imagine a white guy saying the following.

"Well, Jim, this area is so good. No white trash for miles! All Jamaican, Tamil and Bengalis here. Delightful! I must tell you, I am sick of the bland cooking these white people do. When these brown guys cook in the middle of a hot summer afternoon, a delightful aroma fills the neighborhood - so exotic!"

This sort of post-colonial hangover is not just limited to finding a house in an area devoid of desis. It also appears in the form of people like Michelle Malkin, an American of Oriental descent who delights in telling the right-wing why the internment of Japanese Americans during the Second World War was a good thing. It appears in the form of the Muslim who thinks all hijab should be banned because "we" should "integrate".

I, for one, have no problem with other cultures. And I, also, do not have a problem with mine.

Now, in the tradition of a favourite blogger of mine (Samosa), I leave you with a video. They say the hijab and the niqab are supposed to make a women less alluring. Ya, right!

You Must Be A Bangladeshi Cricket Fan If ...

Being a Bangladeshi cricket fan means victories over big teams are like Eid - they are extremely fun when they happen but only occur twice a year.


Even though our team has improved considerably, old habits are hard to break. With this in mind, I give you -

Signs You Must Be A Bangladeshi Fan If:

The first thing you look when you check the scoreboard is the wickets column. Who cares if we have scored 10 runs in 10 overs, as long as the wickets column reads 0 wickets down, we are GOOD.

Every time our batsman goes for a swing your heart is in your mouth. We are almost equally happy to see a "well left" ball as a boundary hit.

Javed Omar scores 17 runs in 41 balls and then praises the opening partnership. You actually agree that this is a good performance from an opener.

No matter how good the situation is for Bangladesh, you are quietly confident of our team's ability to screw it up royally. Therefore, even if the opposition requires 17 runs per over you still can't relax until the last ball.

You also harbor grand delusions that no matter how bad the scoreboard is, someone will come and smash 100 runs in 30 balls or take 6 wickets in an over. You genuinely believe it will happen.

Fun and jokes aside, I would like to thank the Bangladeshi cricket team for making us dream again, giving joy to a poverty-stricken country of 150 million and giving us all a cause to unite behind, once again.

Joy Bangla!

Good Friday Jummah Rant

Today, on Good Friday, when everyone is home because it's a holiday, it's NOT a good idea to be the last person to use the shower. Zero hot water. Dancing In The Shower takes on a whole new meaning.

Usually my policy of Jummah used to be Last Person In First Person Out. On Good Friday, with half of Toronto deciding to go to our mosque, it's Last Person In, First Person To Get A Parking Ticket.

If there are new ways to be stupid the Muslim community will find it. Even if it is the usually well organized Islamic Foundation. Today, as we were leaving the prayers, one volunteer stood in front of one stairway.

"No, you can't exit from here." He said adamantly. "The sisters use that gate."

To give you an idea, we were on the first floor, the "sisters" were on the ground floor. The stair he was blocking led from the first floor to the ground floor to an exit. So we were forced to take the longer route and this led to jams and lots of pushing and shoving and unintentional touching of body parts in an inappropriate manner.

Apparently, if I use the same door as a girl, to get out of the mosque, it's a sin. Even though I may have seen a woman elsewhere minus her hijab, the sight of her, IN A MOSQUE, dressed in full Islamic garb, is so alluring to me as a man, that I may not be able to control myself.

And what do most men do? As soon as they exit, they come around to the same gate to wait for their wives and daughters to exit so they may walk to the car together!

PS. Is it just me, but whenever I see an Easter Bunny, I want to eat a rabbit? I guess being brought up in the Middle East, I learnt to eat all types of exotic meat. Anything tastes good with homous!

Babel and Provoked

Babel

We (a few of us) had gathered at a friend's house to watch Babel (and eat some pizza and wings). Just before the movie started, one of my friends got a phone call. It was this girl he was "seeing" for marriage.

The movie started. He was still on the phone. Right near the end of the movie, as the credits started to roll in, he bid her goodbye and hung up. As the movie finished, I looked at him.

"And you are still thinking of whether she is the right one for you?" I asked incredulously. "Not only did she talk to you for over TWO HOURS (and from all the laughing you did it was an interesting conversation) she saved you from watching this horrendously boring and crappy movie. Just for that, you should marry her."

Yes, Babel was really that bad.

I liked Crash. So when I was told Babel was just an international version of it, I was intrigued. Where Crash was gripping and engaging, however, Babel was just plain tedious, long, dragged out and painful to watch. At times, we were just forwarding through some of the scenes, so predictable and tired we were of the movie.

Really, how different is Babel to the rest of Hollywood movies?

Arabs with guns shooting at white blonde women? Check.

Foreign kids are uncouth and gross compared with the well manicured Caucasian kids? Check.

Beer drinking, border crashing, illegally working Mexicans? Check.

Horny, perverted, exotic, naked, sexually ungratified Asian women? Check.

Happy ending for no one except the white, all-American family? Check.

All in all, you are better off re-renting Crash.

Provoked

No, I am not previewing Provoked just so I can include a picture of Aishwarya here. The premise of the film, which reflects a true story, is an interesting one. Rai plays Kiranjit Ahluwalia, a woman caught in a bad and abusive marriage, who finally kills her husband, unable to take the constant threats, rapes and abuses anymore. She is sentanced to life imprisonment.

Her case was taken up by the pressure group Southall Black Sisters, and in 1992 the sentence was quashed. The landmark case helped create a new defence in court for women suffering from domestic violence.

Should women have the right to kill their husbands just because they are in a bad marriage? This was in UK, where a woman can easily run to a shelter with her kids and the full support of law. It's not a patriarchical backwards Eastern country, where the man's word is the law. If you take the law in your own hands, should you not bear the consequences? I once wrote of someone I know who was trapped in a bad marriage. She didn't kill her husband.

Admittedly, the outcome of public sympathy would have been much different if it was the wife abusing her husband, and the man ended up killing his wife. Why?

Just In Time Report

A big, important decision awaited me.

I was on Bloor Street, approaching the Don Valley Parkway exit. Do I take it, or continue along Bloor Street and use another local road to get to my destination. I had to make up my mind quickly; the exit was fast approaching. I quickly reached for the dial and turned on the radio to 680.

Yes! It was 5.41, and they have traffic reports on the 1s. Quick!

"This is 680 news with Paul Cook and Lisa Brandt .."

Yes, yes! I know, get to the point!

"... with traffic and weather on the 1s, we bring you the latest..."

Oh my God! I could almost see the exit now.

"And now we have the traffic report, brought to you by Pizza Pizza ..."

Can you give me the damn report already?

"... Pizza Pizza, where we now have our 2-for-1 special. Buy one medium size pizza and get another one of equal or less value at no extra charge!"

Oh how good! Pizza! Will you give me the @#$! traffic already?

".. and now here is Darryl Dommer.."

I was at the exit. Do I really need to know WHO is giving me my traffic report?

"... and the Don Valley Parkway is moving smoothly..."

Ah yes! Just in time, thank God! Confident that I would be able to make it in time for Smallville, I took the exit. I was now on the Don Valley Parkway, which, as he promised, should be moving smoothly. The traffic reporterer however, wasn't finished.

"... Parkway is moving smoothly, till the Bloor viaduct from where it's heavy, bumper-to-bumper, to the 401 ..."

As the long line of cars stretched ahead of me, their bumpers glistening in the sunlight, I contemplated whether Pizza Pizza delivered to cars stuck on the Parkway. Damn you 680 news commercial plugs.

*shakes fist*