Parental Advice

"MOM!" I yell from the base of the stairs. "I am going out."

She peers down the stairs. "Lock the door and set the alarm on your way out."

"OK."

"When will you be back?" She asks. I am now tying my shoes.

"I will be late." I reply. "I am going out with T and E."

"Shall I put food out for you?"

(Haha. Put food out. Like a cat. We put the food out for our cats. And now, apparently me.)

"No." I answer. "We are going to this Indian restaurant, Babur, ..."

"INDIAN restaurant?" Mom makes a face. "I don't know why you kids want to waste money on an INDIAN restaurant. After all, you can eat that stuff here, right at home!"

Beards - A Woman's Take

A guest blog post by Nowal.

So sure, you can now argue with me why the hijaab and beard are obligatory in Islam. Call me a firebrand, but I think beards are just ridiculous when they are worn as a sign of being a Muslim. Hijaabs as a gauge for your “Muslimity”, I understand and approve. I understand the moral and practical reasoning and I have seen the wonders it does for you (bad hair day masks). But let's take beards. Why do Muslims feel this compulsion to sport a beard, which btw, is NOT fard. It's wajib, or makruh or nafl. Not fard. So reasons, right:

1. The Prophet kept one. He asked his ummah to keep one.
Fair enough. It's Sunnah. More rewards if you keep one. It's like Tahajjud prayers or drinking fresh camel milk. You can use that extra sawaab.

2. Distinguishes you from the effeminate men.
Define effeminacy - "Effeminacy is character trait of a male showing femininity, unmanliness, womanliness, weakness, softness and/or a delicacy, which contradicts traditional masculine, male gender roles." (Google)

Let's tackle each of them separately, eh?

Femininity - women who have hirsutism have a massive amount of facial hair. Hirsutism could be congenital, hormonal imbalances (genetic or neoplastic reasons). So for those of you who have never walked past the women's toiletries aisle in Shopper's - go check out those upper lip wax strips and trimmers. A desi women's salon is a lesson in 101 ways of hair removal techniques. And laser hair removal was not just meant for removing chest hair people. Women have "beards" as well. Please read and learn.

Unmanliness/Womanliness - So manliness is a sign of courage and strength? A lion with his mane sits on his ass all day while the lionesses do the hunting. Or wait, is it ruthless fear? A manly man can induce fear into the hearts of everyone. If this, honestly, is your only reason for keeping that beard ... then dude, you need therapy.

Weakness/softness/delicacy - So our Muslim men should be strong/hard/tough? Is that what Islam is about?! Force and violence? Are they not allowed to be soft-cored? Well, apparently not. Muslim men = bearded = not effeminate = violent bulldogs.

Traditional masculine, male gender roles - varies according to culture. In most of the developed and developing nations, I doubt the man is placed under any circumstances to intimidate his business opponent using the aid of his curly, black mass hanging down from his chin. Well, fine. A more realistic scenario - do you think the Afghani militant sends the Canadian soldier off running because of his beard? No. It’s not the size of your beard that matters anymore, neither in the war zone, nor in the conference room. It’s the size of your weapon, be it your gun or your brain.

3. Distinguishes you from the pagans/Jews/Christians.
This was mentioned back in the day. I understand. A Sikh man, a rabbi and an imam came out of the pond together after taking a quick dip. 5 seconds. Identify who’s who.
4. Doesn't let you be a victim of your own vanity.
http://www.beards.org/ An entire website for your beard. How to groom it, what to apply on it, how to grow it to its maximal potential. Even comes with FAQs! We’re vain. Accept it ... what makes you think keeping a beard is not going to have you obsessively stare at your face in the mirror and apply olive oil once every week?! A clean-shaven man is much less so. Spend 5 minutes shaving off your morning shadow, dab on some of that antiseptic thing and off you go.

We’re Muslims. We’d rather obsess over moon-sightings than unite our dividing ummah. Trimming a beard so it’s less than a fist-length is haraam! Whose fist do we use as a reference? What if you shave it off because you have a crazy fungal infection growing there? Why ARE we making such a fuss out of the TRIVIAL things when our RELIGION is about to fall apart?

And while we are comparing and cooing over each other’s beards, Afghanistan and Darfur will self-demolish.

So what am I trying to get at? Long-winded as it may have been…the reasons why Muslim men justify keeping a beard are impractical. Except for numero uno. Do it because the Prophet did it. Don't do it because it makes you "more Muslim".

All that being said, some of my loved-ones have beards.

Meeting Up With IshyMosa

First, A Few Plugs:

A few friends of mine from McMaster University are involved with a project called Wake Up Bangladesh (Jaago Bangladesh) that aims to get rid of poverty by the metaphoric equivalent of teaching people to fish (skills workshops, education) rather than giving them the fish (charity). It's a great initiative, so do check out Jaago Bangladesh.

If you are in Toronto on March 16^th, 2007, and can speak Bengali, you MUST attend the University of Toronto's BSA show at Isabel Bader Theatre. Not only do you get to watch the best Bengali cultural show in town, you get to see ME on stage. One of my roles (even though it's only a minute) is called Disco Mullah #2. The other, longer, role is Tipu Bhai. Yes, that's all I can say now.

Forthcoming Posts:

Why I Don't Like Girls Looking For A Guy With Masters (it may have something to do with the fact that I don't have one).

My Cricket World Cup Preview (or why the Bangladesh Cricket captain should keep his mouth shut and focus on not embarrassing us).

On to other stuff:
I am beginning to hate this winter. Dry skin, chapped lips and what not. Yes, Doctor Nowal did prescribe some treatment (read: Petroleum Jelly) and they did work, but not on the day I was supposed to meet the heads of IshyMosa Productions! Oh quelle horreur!

We had a great dinner at Rainforest Cafe. I think I am in love - finally I discovered another restaurant that's open late at night other than Lahore Tikka House. I am telling you, that Karahi Gosht was beginning to get a little too repetitive.

We had seafood pizza. I didn't know such a thing existed. Plus lots of other stuff. Calamari. Shrimp. Must. Come. Back. 1 month of gym gone.

Intro:
Waitress: Where would you like to be seated please?
Samosa [with perfect straight face]: Near those screaming gorillas please.

Classic IshyMosa Moment:
Isheeta: That gorilla looks awfully like prospect #2 ...
Samosa: Well, as long as it's a doctor ...

Classic Me Moment:
Isheeta: So, where's your car?
Me: There! [points at the parking lot with thousands of cars]

What can one say about Isheeta and Samosa that has not been said already? They are exactly like their blogs - witty, funny, bubbly and very down-to-earth, honest, really COOL people.

Which reminds me. Next time for our bloggers meet - we must get more bloggers. All the bloggers on my sidebar, you are on notice!



I am just jealous of the huge marine aquarium they had there.

A Facebook Valentine Story

"Honey," the wife suddenly poked her husband. "What gift are you getting me on Facebook for Valentine?"

"Huh?" Husband took his eyes of Nelly Furtado on CSI and looked at his wife. "Facebook? Gifts? Valentine?"

"Well," the wife put on her 'hurt-but-can-be-mollified' look. "Facebook has all these 'gifts' that you can give to your valentine, and it will show up on their profile."



"Oh, I see." Husband nodded. "How much are these gifts?"

"Oh, must everything be about money to you?" The wife pouted.

Husband quickly logged on to Facebook and saw he had one free gift to give. Thanking God for Facebook, he selected a Teddy bear and placed it on his wife's profile.

[3 minutes later]

"Husband?" Wife's voice now had the 'I-need-something' tone.

"Yes?"

"Look at my friend Baki. She got three gifts. And I have only ONE."



"Oh, great." Husband was slowly beginning to regret the day he joined Facebook.

[10 minutes later]

"Wife?" Husband had a puzzled tone to his voice. "Where is MY gift?"

"Oh," Wife now had her 'I-am-so-cute' smile. "You know my friend Madiha, who is single? She was soooo lonely, I felt so bad for her. So I gave her my gift. You know I loooooooooove you right?"

Madiha's profile now had seven gifts, all from girls: "Here you are my choooopooooos! My chinkie pinkie! My gulab jamun!"

Meanwhile, the single guys who should be giving Madiha gifts are having great fun, giving gifts to EACH OTHER.

"Here's something you wanted for a long time," Wrote Taufeeq to Adnan. A rainbow colored chocolate box was the gift. "I know you wanted to come out of the closet for a long time haha".

"Dumbass!" Was Adnan's response. "Here's something you need. Haha."

A roll of toilet paper was Adnan's return gift.

Oh Facebook! What have thee done to us?

Overheard On Bus Today

One girl telling another, "Oh I dumped him. He was not interested in me physically. Only sexually."

What does that MEAN?

How Islam Has Oppressed Men

*with tongue firmly in cheek*

That's right. Men. For over fourteen hundred years we men have let Islam (and women) take advantage of us daily, discriminate against us on each and every issue of life, and it's time we fought back and demanded what is rightfully ours, and enlighten ourselves on how Islam is oppressing us men.

For example, let's start with prayers. I have to put on ten layers of clothes, gloves, earmuffs, then go outside in the freezing cold, wipe the snow off the car, drive to the mosque which is 10 km away, pray in congregation, drive back and by the time I am home, it's almost time for the next prayer. In Islam a man's best prayer is offered in congregation in the mosque. And what does my (future) wife have to do? All she has to do is put the TV on mute, place the praying mat on the floor, quickly say her prayers and then be back to watching Saas Hi Bahu Ko Maar Dala. And Islam says that's her best prayers. WTF?

So when I time my prayers with the commercials because Smallville is on at the same time as Maghrib, I am neglecting my duties, but for her it's her "best" way of praying and Allah gives her Great Rewards?

And all those relaxed prayer sessions will no doubt cause her to become lazy. After all we men know women don't really do too much work at home. We have to go out and earn, dammit, it's our responsibility. So if she becomes lazy and gets a little fat, can we criticize her? No, Quran tells us men "it may be that ye dislike a thing, and Allah brings about through it a great deal of good" [Nisa: 19].

We all know women love to shop for clothes. And what does Islam do? Give her an EXCUSE to go shop for clothes.

"Honey, really, it's for part of my hijab. Seriously. I have to be fully covered, you know. And the Louis Vuitton bag? Well, Islam does not want me to attract men's attentions with my hidden ornaments, so I have to carry them somewhere, right? Besides, didn't Allah tell you men the best dinar spent is the dinar you spend on your family?"

And we men can't even spend 200 bucks on the Nike basketball shoes because all that is required from us is to be covered from navel to the knee (as if I am some Greek slave). And meanwhile, the wife is going "honey, does this abaya make my ass look big?" Well Islam wants me to tell the truth, darling ...

What about sex? Surely we men have the upper hand there? Surely a woman who refuses her husband's sexual advances will be cursed by 70 angels for the night? You'd think so, eh?

First of all, it doesn't say anything about the wife refusing sexual advances during the day. Those Department of Cursing Angels only work the night shift. Second, just because Islam gives you the right for sex doesn't mean you can have it. It's like, A owes me money, but if A doesn't pay up, I can't mug A as he walks down the street. Have to go to court and all that. I wonder if there could be a Court of Appeals (for sex)?

Husband: "You Honor, my wife the accused has not been having sex with me for sometime now."

Judge: "How do you plead?"

Wife: "I plead Not Horny, Your Honor."

Judge: "Hmm.. well I can't do much here. All Islam says is talk things over and come to a mutual understanding."

Husband: "What?!! Surely, there must be a verse or two about beating her? All the major religions have it?"

Judge: "Well, there is, but it's also being constitutionally challenged all the time. And we Muslims are limited to what the Prophet did, and turns out he never beat his wives, the pity. Maybe you can hit her with a toothbrush?"

Wife: "Well, if he was as built as his toothbrush, we wouldn't be having this conversation ..."

And I haven't even gotten the tax imposed on Men Who Are Not Thinking Clearly, also known as Mahr. It's time we men called for reformation within Muslim circles. We all know women can't really think properly, so maybe it's time to call for more women to be admitted to scholarly circles so we can manipulate them to make laws on our behalf.

Good V-Morning

(Me = me, Fib = Friend In Bangladesh)

Step 1: Kill the joke.

Fib: "What's up?"

Me: "Eito, just got to work. Snowing here."

Fib: "Oh, don't be grumpy, today is Valentine's Day!"

[me gets more grumpy]

Me: "So?"

Fib: "HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!!!!!!!!"

[me decides guys in Bangladesh are getting gayer by the second]

Me: "Actually I am celebrating Single Awareness Day today."

[cyber pause as I realize Fib may not have got it]

Me: "So I am going to be in S.A.D. mode all day."

Fib: "Really? I never heard of that day! It's on the same day as Valentine's Day? Is it something Canadian?"

[he's serious]

Me: *sigh* "It's a JOKE! S.A.D. = sad = no valentine = anti-valentine."

Fib: "oh, LOL!!"

[five minutes of Fib typing various combinations of LOL, LMAO and ROFL]

Step 2: Reinforce Desiness

Fib: "Are there no pretty Bengali girls in Canada?"

Me: "Sure, lots."

Fib: "So, pick a proper beauty."

Me: "Is beauty the only factor? Beauty is subjective."

Fib: "Screw that. Beautiful is fixed. Slim, and fair skin."

[me inserts Fair and Lovely commercial here]

Step 3: Destroy Ignorance which was Bliss

Me: "For marriage you need to go beyond beauty."

Fib: "Who the hell is talking about marriage? Just get a girl friend. Have fun. Do furti (masti)."

Me: "Does everyone in Bangladesh do furti then?"

Fib: "Sure. Well, all try. Some cannot do it."

[Fib sniggers]

Me: "You mean, girls in Bangladesh are so ... modern ... now?"

Fib: "Hell, ya. Lol you didn't think that? You've been out of the country for too long."

Dating While Married, Hijabi Pop and Nancy Ajram

Today while driving to work I heard of this news story that to me appears really messed up.

Two women were found murdered in the same house in Markham. One was Paula Menendez, estranged wife of Rick Ralph, a radio personality on Fan 590. The other woman was Julie Crocker, the woman Ralph was currently DATING. So here we have a married man dating a woman found murdered in the same house as his wife. And it gets even more bizarre. The suspect, and now accused, is the estranged HUSBAND of this Julie Crocker. So she was dating while married too! [Star]

You know I am a liberal and all that, but I am disgusted at this "dating while married" thing. If you are married to one person you cannot date another person - that's what I thought. It doesn't matter if you are estranged or not - get a bloody divorce then!

This Canadian society has made divorce long and hard. Our desi culture makes marriage long and hard. Meanwhile adultery is so easy and common. In my opinion, both marriage and divorce should be easy and simple, and it should be adultery that should be banned.

* * *

I listen to Arabic songs occasionally, having been brought up in the Middle East it's soothing when I am in a nostalgic mood. I showed two Arabic music videos to a friend yesterday.

One was by Haithem Said, and it actually starred a hijabi girl in the video. The other was a Nancy Ajram song (she is one of my favourites).

As soon as that person saw both the videos, his comment was "Dear God! Why is a hijabi in a music video, that is so shameful and not nice!" Completely ignored was the fact that Dear Nancy in her video was in her night clothes, romping on a bed, shaking her booty in the shower and all that.

Just because a girl puts on her hijab, do we automatically put her higher up on a pedestal and judge her by stricter standards? Couldn't we just apply the same standards to both girls? And I know I am personally guilty of this. If a normal non-hijabi friend of mine is dating someone, I just view it as "normal" and even though in my view it's not exactly Islamic, I go 'blech'. But as soon as you hear about a hijabi girl "going out" with this guy, all sort of tongues start to wag on why this is so bad and she is so hypocritical.

The Memo Of 5

I saw this sometime ago and thought it would be a great thing to do.

5 things I wish to do before I die:

1. Get married. I hope to do that loooooong before I die. Like soon. Honest.
I even made a list of pros and cons and debated the cons. The cons won out
too. But still ...

2. Go to a disco after I do no. 1 (with my no. 1). Do they still call it a disco? Look, I could have said I wanted to go to the Great Wall of China or go seal hunting near the North Pole or bungee jumping down Grand Canyon, but I wanted to Keep It Real.

3. Own a couple of condominiums. Working on it for sometime. But every time I go near the goal, they move the posts.

4. Convert someone to Islam. Well, everything cannot be about this world (also, I heard the fastest growing group of Muslims is Hispanic young women).

5. Get my book published. I actually made up no. 5 right now. I have half a
book sitting on my hard disk for the last 3 years.

5 types of people I hate: (only 5?)

1. Pseudo-religious people. Guys with beards who curse are at the top of the list. It's not that they just make out or curse or drink that's bad. It's their sense of hypocrisy, that "I-am-better-than-you because I-wear-this-cloth" or "I-have-more-facial-hair" attitude.

2. Mean people who are just mean. I am naturally nice and kind (but naturally!) unless someone ticks me off. I don't go around looking to just cause someone trouble and I expect the world to behave that way. Doesn't work.

3. Welfare frauds. Look, I know you are scamming the system. You don't need to boast about it in the iftar party.

4. Ultra-Liberal muslims. I don't care if you are religious or not. Seriously. Just don't MAKE UP stuff, OK? Those that go - "prayer was just Allah's excuse to make Muslims meet each other to be friends, and whether you meet at a mosque or at a bar as long as you meet". Also, the "I am going to pray in Bangla" guy.

5. People who think it's cool to mistreat animals like cats, dogs, pigs, etc.

5 Things I say often:

1. Ekta hoileii hoy.. literally means "whatever, anything will do". Usually said in reply to 'do you want the A/c on or off', 'do you want to watch Zee or Sony', 'do you want meat or fish'. Still not reached that point where I reply this to the no. 1 on my first list yet.

2. "Eeeeesh" - literally meaning "Eeeeesh".

3. WTF. I have to cut down on this. But I find it hard as so many people around me behave in ways that are so wtf-worthy.

4. "Well ..." - My diplomatic answer to various diverse types of questions such as "what do you think of so-and-so's new wife" to "is cheese better with egg and bagel or tomato?". Usually appended by "it depends".

5. "Inshallah." - it means "when God wills". The catch-all phrase I use when I don't want to promise to do something that I have to.

The New Me

The tiger has new stripes!

I know you like it, so pay compliments to designer Shazia Mistry.

The layout, the color schemes and the banners were all hers - all I did was offer criticism (that too at one in the morning!). So for your next web project, you know the right person to contact.

At the moment my dear blog is modeling her new dress for me, and I am just admiring her from afar. I wonder if Shazia is doing the same.

Mean Chicken

I dropped into my friend Sohail's place after work and gym to pick up some DVDs.

"Hey, the Raptors game is on in a few minutes." He told me as I hunted around his movie collection for few to borrow. "Want to catch the first half with me? My roommate made Manchurian chicken."

"OK," I wasn't really into basketball but the bribery of food wasn't to be ignored. "Sure."

So in a few minutes we were tucking into some delicious Manchurian chicken (and naan bread - weird combo), when there was a knock on the door.

It was his girlfriend, paying him a surprise visit. I guess I would have to leave earlier than planned.

"Um," I asked Sohail as he got back and she went to freshen up. "Are we the team in white or blue?"

Uh oh. Never ask a basketball fanatic a stupid question.

"You!" Sohail literally got up and admonished me with a pointed finger. "You don't deserve to be called a Torontonian. And you call yourself up-to-date with current news! Man, Toronto is Canada's team! We are white and red, not BLUE! Don't tell me you don't know that Vince Carter has also left Toronto years ago?"

"No." I shook my head, not really caring. The Manchurian chicken was good.

"Why, ANYone who doesn't know ANYthing about Raptors is pretty much out of touch, living in a bubble and should move out of Toronto." Sohail declared, oblivious to reality now. "Even my girlfriend knows more basketball than you."

"Sure," The girlfriend, who had just chosen this moment to enter the room, replied. "What's there not to know?"

She plopped down on the sofa, took a look at the TV and then turned to Sohail, puzzled.

"Hey Sohail, where's Vince Carter?"

No Fun Please, We Are Muslims

Snippet 1.

It was the year 1989. NASA's Voyager 2 had just reached Neptune. The next day at school we were all an excited bunch. Eagerly we discussed the documentary showed the previous night on TV on the sole English channel at that time, Channel 33. It had been on the "slingshot effect", and how Voyager 2 had used it to reach Neptune. I asked one of my class mates, son of one muezzin, if he had watched the documentary.

"We don't have TV." He replied, "My dad says it's haram. He says the TV is evil."

Snippet 2.

2005. RIS. Toronto. The famous Indian speaker Dr Zakir Naik was speaking. A lady stood up to ask a question, "Is music allowed in Islam?"

Dr Naik answered, "Music is the devil's muezzin. It is a frivolity. Personally, I believe that music is prohibited to Muslims. To me, the only musical instrument that is somewhat permissible is the Daf, because this drum was used during the Prophet's time. We Muslims should be spending our time doing much more constructive things. Music usually intoxicates a person ..."

Everyone clapped.

Snippet 3.

The airport in Pakistan. The year was 1995. The press had gathered to see Jemima (Haiqa) Khan, the new convert-to-Islam and wife of Pakistan's world cup winning captain Imran Khan. Nervous, and feeling slightly uncomfortable, Jemima clasped her hands around her husband's. Quickly, Imran shook his hands free.

"It's not our way to show affection thus," he told her abruptly, standing stiffly apart from her.

I remember watching that scene on TV with a sense of awe.

Snippet 4.

Fourteen hundred years ago. A young Aisha, wife of the final Messenger of God, narrates the following story.

"On the day of Eid, the Prophet called me while the Ethiopians were playing with their spears in the mosque saying 'O little red one, would you like to watch them?' I said 'yes'."

"Then he had me stand behind him and dropped his shoulders so that I could see. I rested my chin on his shoulder with my face against his cheek, and watched from over his shoulder. When I became bored with the exhibition, he said to me 'Have you had enough?' I said, 'Don’t rush.' And so he continued standing for me. When he asked me the second time if I had had enough, I again told him not to rush. I saw him switching his feet from weariness."

Aisha explains to us, "I really had no desire to look at them, I only wished for the news to reach other women, of the way he stood there for me, and the regard he had for me though I was only a girl. So appreciate the status of a girl young in age and fond of pleasure and fun." (related from Al-Bukhari [Volume 7, Book 62, Number 118] and Al-Muslim)

And they still say any frivolity and fun is Haram!

Random Rant

Dear Human Beings,

As you know I normally use this blog to sprout my brilliant ideas to change the face of the twenty first century Earth. However, occasionally I go through a boring weekend where I have nothing to do but think. Here are some random thoughts that had been bugging me for a while.

I realized despite building pyramids that stand to this day and other such marvels, ancient Egyptians couldn't have been too smart. They used to sacrifice virgins to appease the Goddess of the River Nile so it would flood and help their crops.

What a waste of a virgin.

If you do have to sacrifice anyone, why not some old people? I am pretty sure you could round up a few relatives who people would gladly volunteer. We all know virgins are rare and non-recyclable.

Or maybe, those Egyptian high priests were smart after all. Someone had to "test" whether she was a virgin ...

Then we come to the Islamic world. Somewhere in our books it is said that in the end times, there will be one guy looking after 50 women. Yet, despite this brilliant prediction, we try to persecute gay guys. What gives?

Think of it this way, the more guys that are gay - the more women that are left for the straight men! So, if one guy is gay, suddenly you can look after 100 women! Why doesn't anyone think like that? If your main competitor looks good, cooks great, knows all the floral combinations and has a keen fashion sense, wouldn't you rather he be gay?

Then we come to the modern era. Lately I have started to realize that some people are so stupid that they are too stupid to be properly stupid, y'know what I mean?

For example, dear Dell Technical Support guy. Could you please NOT tell me your name is Harry? It seems EVERY guy in Dell Technical Support is called Harry. When we all know it's really Hariharam Sundarlal Singh Jhunjhunwala.

Be imaginative man! If you have to pick a name, pick a cool one. How about Guru?

"Hi! Your laptop not working? I am Guru and I will help you."

And they never help you! All they ask you is to reboot and press F12 to run the diagnostic. And then they say "Oh it's supposed to be working, we'll just send you a new one."

Second, we come to Toronto drivers. This is the mantra we follow. When there is snow and ice on the road, of course we can speed. I mean, if we can't see the speed limit sign, that means speed limits don't exist any more, right? And why contribute to light pollution by switching on our lights? Be dark and mysterious, I say.

Third, do we really need democracy? In the past few weeks, the non-elected caretaker government of Bangladesh has arrested all the top evil politicians (barring the main culprits - the two ladies) and charged them with corruption. In the last two weeks they showed more balls than the previous government did in five years. When the US Ambassador Patricia A Butenis tried to interfere in our local politics, the caretaker government's minister actually had the guts to tell her to f*** off. She got so emotionally disturbed she is now taking an assignment to Iraq. Iraq!

Now that's called scaring someone off when they prefer Iraq to Bangladesh.

So it was a crappy weekend with lots of snow and cold and sun. How that combination is possible only God knows.

Confession: These two females threw themselves at me last night in bed and would not budge.

Current mood: Sleepy. Tired.

Salaam-E-Ishq

Dear Diary,

Last night I went to see the latest blockbuster Salaam-E-Ishq with a few friends. Then I came home and watched Snakes On A Plane. And before that I went to rehearsals for this stage show that I am in.

Dear Diary, here are some things I learnt from Salaam-E-Ishq:

To get the pretty lady on the subway to fall madly in love with you, stare down her dress at her cleavage. Apparently this works in London.

Cellphones work on the London subways while underground.

If you want to woo an old flame, blackmail is the way to go.

If you stand in the middle of the streets of Muslim Lahore, Pakistan, and proclaim your love for a Muslim girl while you yourself are a Hindu guy, and she accepts, religious looking people in beards will cheer rather than shout about the gazab of Allah.

Overall the movie was ho-hum. Nothing ahamori, or extra-special as they say in Bengali, but OK. You won't feel your money being wasted. Some people had told me the 3.5 hours (yes!) would make the movie seem long, but to be honest I didn't feel the movie dragging at all.

Dear Diary, you know Vidya Balan, my current fav? Well, despite being sans make-up for 80% of the time, she still looked good. Her acting was one the best in the movie. Just to prove I am not biased though, Priyanka Chopra did the best job though in the movie. The songs were well choreographed, especially the title song. Akshaye Khanna was the worst actor, hamming awfully with zero comic timing, while surprisingly Govinda was the best. Six average love stories, an average movie, but stylish visuals and the multi-star cast obviously being the main draw.

Snakes On A Plane. Now there's a fundas movie! Total B-grade effects, acting, but I had a ball of a time watching the movie. The predictability of the plot did nothing to hamper the fun, it was buckle your seat belts and hold on for the corny script, cheesy special effects and some R-rated fun. Paisa Vasool, as they say.

You ask about the show I am in? It's on March 16. The last time I was on stage on such a show was three years ago. It's different now, even though some of the people I know are family friends it's such a younger bunch, but as a graduate student I expected that. It might be the last year I can do this, so I wanted to.

You know what's funny? Sometimes now when I see someone, let's say four or five years younger than me, and he's wearing baggy jeans, tight t-shirts, loads of gel, some bling bling, and I laugh. I can so see right through those characters now, and what they are trying to do. Then when these girls walk into the room in a coat that is chic but really does nothing to protect them against -30 degrees outside, when they emit a fake laugh at some corny joke, you gotta laugh again. Not at them, but that few years back, I was one of that crowd.

God I feel like Anil Kapoor plus Akshaye Khanna now.

Writings On The Wall

Yet another difference between Venus and Mars. Should be really part of this post.

Message on Facebook from one girl on my list to another:

WHATS UPPPPPP Girl!!!!! You my shoozie poozie! We missed you last night, chick!!! Wheres our sexy pics of the makeout session lol!!!

PS. Come over tonight!!!! we r all going for the movie!!!!
PSS I LAUUUU U.. *muaaah*

Message on Facebook from one of my guy friends to another:

Yo dumbass!!! When are you going to return my DVDs? The 'boys' are coming over for the Raptors game.. 7 pm.. be there or be square.

PS. Bring food.

And finally, to go down the evolution ladder even further:
(You need to know Urdu)

Abeeey baaaeeeeeeeenchoo** *bleep* kaha margaya tu salaaa...*bleep* kamine *bleep**bleep*
Wanna go for the Legends game on March 3? Woh dono *bleep**bleep* bhi araha hai.

Phew! Had to do some censoring there. Though, to be honest, I have never understood the reason why "oh ye illegitimate child of one who has done action Jackson¹ with his sister" is a term of endearment amongst some people!

1 (term "action Jackson" copyrighted by Samosa)

You Want Justice, No?

Two strange legal cases caught my attention today. One is in Canada. A man and his female friend broke up. Unknown to him at that time, she had become pregnant by him. Upon their breakup, the woman decided to give up the baby for adoption. She contacted interested families and selected a couple. A contract was drawn up between the two parties. Upon birth of the baby, the new couple adopted the child.

The biological father than found out about the child. He sued to gain custody of the child. Even though a paternity test proved that the child was his, even though the law grants him rights, even though he proved he was deceived by the biological mother, the court decided, in the interests of the child, it would be best at this time to keep custody with the adoptive parents. The court ruled that the child was at a delicate emotional stage and had formed bonds with the adoptive parents and therefore ruled that the original contract between the mother and the adoptive parents was valid. It also ruled that the biological father would be granted more rights, but later, and not full custody at this time.

Smith (the judge) said in his ruling that the child's welfare must always be the most important consideration.[source]

Even though I disagree partly with the verdict, you can see where the ruling is coming from. It is stemmed from a desire to ensure the child's welfare is paramount. This is why laws in the West are constantly re-written because new situations arise and the judges are always urged to look beyond the letter of the law. This is why Canada was so opposed to mandatory minimum punishments because they treated each case on its own merits.

Now contrast this to the following ruling in a so-called Islamic court upholding so-called Sharia.

The Dubai Court of Cassation has upheld a verdict issued by the Sharia Court ordering the termination of a five-year marriage between a national woman and an Egyptian man after the wife's guardian filed a lawsuit against it saying it was solemnised without his consent. [source]

In other words, this was a man and a woman, happily married to each other, WITH A CHILD, for five years. And the judge saw it fit, "Islamically", to break up the family. All because the law of the land stated that for a woman to marry, she must have the consent of her guardian. The law of the land that is derived from the Maliki/Shafi schools of thought where a woman requires such a consent.

If you want to know why clear thinking Muslims should oppose Sharia in the West, it's because of dick-headed judges like these, who clearly have no concept of fairness and justice and cannot look beyond the boundaries of their tents. And from what little I have seen, the mullahs in the West who advocate Sharia are no better.

To those who says Islamic laws are final, unchangeable and just, I give you Caliph Umar's example, a man about whom the Prophet had said the following:

"If there was to be a Prophet after me, it would be Umar."

Umar realized that when the Sharia was imposed, the end result of each ruling must be to ensure that justice has prevailed. Upholding the letter of the law is not as important as ensuring that each ruling is just.

It was this spirit of justice that led to Umar to decide at one point during his Caliphate that he would not punish thieves who stole above a certain limit by cutting off their hands, as mandated by orthodox Islamic rule. At that time the Islamic empire was going through a drought and a plague, and people were forced to steal out of poverty. Umar decided that it would not be fair to punish those thieves who stole just enough to feed their family during the drought. The punishment to cut off hands is mentioned in the Quran, and IS A COMMAND of Allah, yet Umar felt it would not be just according to those circumstances, and so he temporarily suspended that law. All in the spirit of ensuring justice.

Yet today we break up families.

Once a woman brought a claim against the Caliph Umar. When Umar appeared on trial before the judge, the judge stood up as a sign of respect towards the Caliph. Umar reprimanded him, saying, "This is the first act of injustice you did to this woman!"

If you want justice, fair play and equal rights, it seems the non-Sharia laws of the West are more Sharia-like in spirit than the so-called Sharia laws of these Muslim countries!

Awkward Moments As A Muslim #306

I am in the washroom, washing my hands. The other guy just got in.

"Hey Mezba, going for lunch today?"

"Ah... no, not today."

"Why not? It's dim-sum Monday special today!"

"Um ... I am actually fasting."

"FASTING?!! Why? Don't you always fast in ... Ramadin?"

"RamaDAN. Yes, usually. But today is a holy day. Ashura. So we fast for two days."

"I see. I see." [not seeing at all] "Did you say just today is a holy day?"

"Yes, I did. Why?"

"Because you just said you fast for two days, and now you say only today is the holy day."

"Well, we fast for two days, either yesterday and today, or today and tomorrow."

"Oh, why is that?"

"Um ... to differentiate ourselves from the Jews and Christians."

"I see. I see." [really puzzled now] "So Jews and Christians fast today too?"

"Um... no. Not really."

"Then...?"

"Dude, finish peeing first!"

Thou Shalt Cross The Pig

In the Middle East education was funny. Our teachers, particularly in The School I attended, tried to make us lead a very sheltered life, assuming that school was the only place we would learn of the world, and pretending TVs and non-school text books did not exist.

One of our English books when we were kids was the Junior English series by Haydn Richards. It often had excerpts from famous books for English exercises, and once during Grade 6 the book for that year had a few passages from the Treasure Island, and it contained that famous phrase, "Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum".

Our teacher, a certain Ms. Faiza Yasmeen, if I remember rightly, was mortified.

"Boys," she instructed the class. "Pick up your pencils."

We did so.

"Now cross out the word 'rum' there. Rum is a very bad drink. Rum is haraaaaaaaam in Islam. From now on, I want you all-" she looked sternly at us, "-to read this word as 'ORANGE JUICE'."

"Yes, miss." We all replied in monotone.

So for the rest of the term, the right answer to "what phrase did Long John Silver's parrot used to say?" was:

"Fifteen men on the dead man's chest--
...Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of orange juice!"

Of course such misguided attempts to protect our imaan did not stop there. Our science text books were notorious for having pictures of pigs. Oh, the horror! We were encouraged from an early age by The School to take a red pen and cross out every picture of a pig we see in our book, so as to affirm our oath of not eating pork. Me, being me, would cross the picture with a pencil, which could be erased later. I mean, why spoil a perfectly good book?

The fun intensified in Grade 10, during our O Levels Biology course. There was a rumor that the chapter on Human Reproduction had vivid diagrams. As soon as everyone got the books, all the students dove straight for page 180.

And they were bitterly disappointed.

There was a biological diagram of the process, including the "moment" (when two becomes one). Unfortunately for the students, Mr Gazali of the Bookstore had taken considerable pains to use a black marker to completely shade out the offensive material on the 40 or so textbooks. Not a square inch of the diagrams were visible, such was his diligent devotion to his job.

There were however five textbooks which did not have such shading. They all belonged to the Bangladeshis in our section, who being smarter cheaper, had obtained the book from Bangladesh during the holidays.

At first I couldn't figure out why they wanted to borrow my textbook for a few minutes. Then one Arab student told me.

"Ah," I nodded. "You might wish to turn to page 184." Post birth topics, including breast feeding. And it had pictures! Wallahi! It was like striking gold.

All this was brought to my mind as I was reading this post of Suroor.

We cover up so much, yet we are so indecent.
We know, yet we are uneducated.
Islam wants us to learn, yet the Muslims want to be ignorant.

Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of orange juice!

Related Links:

Suroor on Sexual promiscuity amongst Muslims
Haleem on Sex Education in Bangladesh

I Am Good Now

The Friends TV Show:

Joey: Hey man, how you doing?
Chandler: Man, I feel really bad after that break-up (with Janice).
Joey: Aw man. Here, I will order some pizza, and we will watch all my taped re-runs of Baywatch, OK?

Reality:

Friend: Hey man, wassup?
Me: Man, I feel so down.
(Soon to be former) Friend: Hey man, shit happens. Suck it up.

I am just kidding about the soon-to-be-former part, of course. I feel a lot better now. As Ruby said, apparently yesterday was the most depressing day of the year. I have one of those days. Life, everything, seems to be at a stand still and for some reason you feel the weight of the world on your shoulders.

At those moments you take a deep breath and start counting your blessings. Your family, for one. I look at all the wacky families I know and repeat my thanks that my parents and siblings are all normal people. Your health, for another. And so on. It starts making you feel a lot better.

I watched Shah Rukh Khan host Kaun Banega Crorepati (the Indian version of Who Wants To Be A Millionaire). He is a funny host, except when he tries to talk to the computer (Compaq Da?).

* * *

A family friend came over today, including his ten year old son. While perusing the house he came across my PS2 and the games collection.

"Can I play?" He asked, pointing to the console that was beneath the TV, locked in the stand.

"Um, no." I replied.

"Why?"

I quickly thought of an excuse.

"Some of the games cannot be read." I answered. It wasn't a lie. Some of the 4 year old game CDs, that has been scratched really badly, could not be read.

"Oh," the dude paused, and then replied, "well you know what you can do? You can take the CD and wash it with the soap they use in dishwashers, it works great."

I looked at him in shock. He's ten years old. He's not supposed to know anything except Yu-Gi-Oh.

"Well," I tried to bluff, "what if the PS2 itself cannot read the CDs?"

Notice I didn't lie. I just asked a question.

"Well," the little dude answered that question, "then it's probably the lens. You need to clean the lens with a special solution."

"How the hell-" I caught my language in time. "How do you know all this?"

I am telling you, kids nowadays. They should ban How Things Work and the Discovery Channel from some houses. I let him play the PS2 for sometime, he seemed to know his stuff.

Depression Is ...

Depression.
Has anyone listed what depression is?
Nazrul wrote a poem "Sritshti Sukher Ullashe", describing happiness,
Yet even he gave Depression a miss.

Depression is the lack of answers,
From the pious who are now taken to task,
The constants that defined the boundaries are gone,
And the sinners – in the halo of piety do they bask.

Depression,
Do tauba and all is forgiven, says our Lord,
What is the use of living good,
When the ticket to heaven is just one word?

Depression is a list of names
That is slowly being crossed,
As you realized each and every one of your friends,
Is closer to truly being bossed.

Depression is the breaking of a heart,
When one is forced to say no,
The slow pause as she takes it all in,
And for the final time types "got to go".

Depression is the sound of a glass, raised in toast, clinking,
It is the sound of the final call for his flight,
Your best friend has a job in another country.
Who will you now call in the middle of the night?

The lack of creativity,
The stifling of productivity,
The rolling back of celebration,
And the all-consuming fire of envy and jealousy.

Depression.
Thy name is the black spot of the heart.


Whenever I feel down, this video is always good for a laugh :-D

On The Big Brother Controversy

If you have followed the news over the past few days, you may have heard of the big controversy of alleged racism on the British show Big Brother. For the uninitiated, Big Brother is a house where almost every room has a camera, and the house mates live there for three months, every moment of their lives in the house captured on camera, with highlights being shown every evening. Every so often, viewers get to vote and evict one member from the house.

To spice up the house mates for the current run, Big Brother persuaded Bollywood actress Shilpa Shetty to participate in the game show, with the added bonus of having a South Asian audience tune in as well.

It didn't take long for the other members of the show to turn on Shetty, allegedly calling her a "dog", "Paki", asking her to "fu** off home", as well as making comments about the Indian race as a whole. The controversy blew up spectacularly when South Asian members of Britain's Parliament brought it up in parliament to discuss racism. It also became a diplomatic incident with members of Britain's government on a delegation to visit India being asked about it. More than 40,000 complaints were registered against the show and they lost a major sponsor. Effigies of the show were being burnt on the streets of Mumbai (some people have too much time on their hands).

As I read through all this, I can't help but think "any publicity is good publicity" when it comes to celebrities. Shetty's career wasn't going anywhere and this puts her in the public spotlight, that too in a sympathetic manner. She is now likely to win the game show. Big Brother becomes the most watched show on TV. Viewers vote the alleged racist off the show and all is good with the world again.

I am also surprised by the slew of commentators from India slamming Britain. "Oh I thought Britain was a tolerant country," said one (a government MP!). "Now I know what is really under the surface."

Oh please! As if India is such a tolerant country. Not just India. The whole subcontinent. India, Pakistan, Bangladesh. We discriminate daily based on caste, skin fairness, gender, religion (or inter-religion as in Sunni/Shia so on). Yet we are always the first ones to criticize. Ever looked into our own souls? You can make a whole Crash movie out of just the South Asian / Arab community.

Links:
Goody fights to save career

Shilpa fears racism

India seeks UK racism probe

Row not to impact India-UK ties

Let's vote for Shilpa: Brown

Desi Marriage FAQ For Dummies

Q: What is an arranged marriage?

A1: Arranged marriage is the process through which a loser like him will get a knockout like her that he will never get in real life.

A2: Arranged marriage is the process through which she will get the BMW of her dreams by marrying the doctor of her nightmares.

Q: How many functions are there in a desi marriage?

A1: It depends on how much your parents love you and how much they are prepared to spend on you. Parents, if you have two kids, decide which one you love more now. The other one is going to elope.

A2: Three functions.

Q: What's the first of the three functions?

A: It's called a holud ceremony, literally the "yellow" ceremony.

Apparently, we have discovered a breakthrough scientific formula.

Brown + Yellow = White.

Q: What is the second ceremony?

A: It is called the akht. This is where the imam decides because a girl is silently crying she is happily agreeing to the marriage, whereas the boy (who should really be the one to be crying) has to soundly pronounce "I do" before the imam will say the magic words "you are now married".

They say marriage completes half of your deen (religion). It is observed that men become more religious after marriage. It is because they realize what they have gotten into and start praying more often.

It is also noted that men become fatter after their wedding. It is due to the fact that when a bachelor comes home, he sees what's in the fridge and goes to bed. Whereas the married man comes home, sees what's in the bed and goes to the fridge.

Q: What is a walimah or reception?

A: This is the occasion where we invite all the people we don't really like but have to invite anyways (also known as relatives), so that they can stand and gawk at us making corny jokes about our supposed night of passion.

Q: Who is the first person to leave the gathering?

A: It's the imam. We invite him so he can say the obligatory Quran recitation, do some lecture on why marriage is important, eat and then leave, so we can start our gaana bajaana (music). It's usually best to invite Bengali imams. They know very little Quran so they usually recite Surah Asr (only three verses - very short). The translation is even shorter as they don't know Arabic so just talk in general of why the President of America is an evil man.

A guide to checking out the bride:

Yes, we all know why you are really in the line to take a picture with your 'friend' and your new bhabi - you really want to see how lucky the bast*** got. So this is how you do it.

1. Keep your gaze down.

Be like a good modest desi and lower your gaze. That way, when the time comes, you can look up. Slowly. And check her out completely from bottom to top. If you start at the top, once she starts saying "Hi" you are stuck, you gotta look at her face and make small talk.

2. Don't let out a whistle.

Very important.

How to check out the groom:

Just gaze at any standard guy in a tux and a tie. They all look the same.

Cross Culture Marriage and Racism

Around two years ago I briefly raised the topic of marrying a non-Bengali with my father. I had no one in mind, just a general inquiry. My dad turned to me, eyes narrowed, and in that baritone voice mouthed "What?"

"Um," I replied, somewhat meekly, "some people say it is recommended in Islam to marry outside your culture."

"I see." My father nodded understandingly.

"But," he noted, "some people also say it is recommended in Islam to wake up at 4 am in the morning and offer 20 rakats of Tahajjud prayers everyday."

End of conversation.

I was reminded of this anecdote this morning when I was getting my daily dose of Canada's news. The Toronto Sun reports that according to a survey they conducted, half of Canadians are racist. Which is pretty surprising as I must be running into the other half only then.

What was interesting was one of the questions used in the survey.

Would you have a positive reaction, negative reaction, remain indifferent or it would depend on the ethnic origin if your child were to marry a person of another ethnic group than yours?

So if you have a negative reaction when your child tells you he or she has found a partner but it's from a different ethnic group as yours, you are branded a racist? I don't agree, and frankly I am surprised that with a question like that the figures are not higher than 50%.

I am not going to debate whether marrying outside your ethnic group is right or wrong. That's like debating whether liquid soap is better than a bar of soap. There is no right answer. Each has its merits and drawbacks and it depends on the individuals and circumstances to choose what works for them and make it work.

When people object to their children marrying someone different, it's not based on racism but on fears about their offspring's happiness. For every success story like Suroor or Abu Sinan, there are also many unhappy stories. I personally had a Bengali female friend who married a Pakistani guy against her parents' wishes. Couple of years down the road, she wrote a letter to her parents.

"It is better for both your peace of mind and happiness that you forget you ever had a daughter."

Why? The husband had turned from Prince Charming to Abusive Drunk and Playboy, especially after the couple decided to settle in Lahore. Their story has become fodder for all Bengali fathers in our community who warns their daughters against the charm of 'deceptive Pakistani' guys. Racism?

I think when parents object to such marriages, it is more of a desire to see their own cultural traditions maintained in the next generation, and to ensure their children do not start their new life with the additional challenges of a culture gap.

On the other hand, a couple of friends of mine are somewhat involved with IMAP. They were telling me it's amazing how many girls do not want any man from their own community. Moreover, it is now becoming a trend in many mosques for the preachers to promote cross-cultural marriages, as they tackle the problem of lack of partners in the Muslim community here. I spoke to one such imam recently.

"Kids here are Canadian," He told me. "So it doesn't matter if you come from Guyana or Bangladesh, you are part of the same North American culture."

His point was that it's hard to meet prospective partners in North America if you constrict yourself to your own ethnic origin.

"Besides," the imam continued, "if we stop our daughters from marrying a Muslim man of a different culture, ultimately, they will end up marrying white Christian boys." Now, is this racism?

* * *

On a lighter topic, here's confirmation of the worst kept secret in India.

Three Songs And A Video

This post is dedicated to my sister. I don't know why. Just. Because.

I have a bad habit of "spoiling" songs. Make them go rotten, according to her.

You see, when I get a new song that I like, I add it to my queue on Winamp. And then I play it.

Repeatedly.

It's good if I get 3 or 4 songs, then I can cycle through that list, but when I get this one song - I play it in a repeat loop. It's just so damn good!

But then my sister will barge into my room - "Will you shut that song already?!! Man it was such a good song and now you have spoilt it!"

I guess listening to a song for the 30^th time in a row does that to you.

And it's not just on my laptop. I will copy it to my ipod and play it in my car. Then I will copy it to my work computer and play it at work. It will be on my ipod as I work out. And it will be on my mp3 alarm clock to wake me up. OK so now you know why I scare off some people one more weird fact about me.

At least I am not as bad as the legendary cleaner in Dubai. People who grew up with me will know who I am talking about (let's just call him E). E used to clean everyone's houses that I knew of. He liked this one song so much (I think it was some stupid Bengali folk song called 'Majhir Lungi' or something). In those days CDs had still not come out and it was all tapes. E had a Walkman (it was those free Walkmans you get when you buy 10 Nido cans - ah free stuff of Dubai where hast thou gone?).

And E hated to press the rewind button every time for that song - so he did what any sane person would do. The whole 60 minutes of that cassette, side A and side B, had just one song, repeated a dozen times, throughout the tape. That story has become a legend.

Currently I have three songs and a video that I just can't get enough of. Be sure to get originals and not crazy remixes.

The first one is this song called "Bad Boy" from the movie Pyaar Ke Side Effects. It's a pop song - with deep meaningful lyrics. Well, as meaningful as you can get in a Bollywood item number. It's sung by Sophie, and there is this one line in the song (once you get past the cheesy "would you be my bad boy" intro):

"jo bura hai, woh dil ko lagta bhala hai"
(what's bad, this heart finds it pleasing)

Speaks to my stage of life (hah!) - tired of being the 'good boy' all the time, I want to be baaaaad. *evil laugh here*

The next song is this amazing, delightful, marvelous, fantastic song sung in a superb manner by the singer Kay Kay. It's from the film Woh Lamhe and called "Kya Mujhe Pyaar Hai". You will love it. Just the composition, music, lyrics - it's all perfect for those who are in love. The lyrics are soulful.

The final song in my trilogy of Songs About To Be Spoilt is from the new film Salaam-E-Ishq. It's sung by Adnan Sami and the song is "Dil Kya Kare". The music is good, the voice is melodious and the lyrics go well with the mood of the song. Although one line of the song says "I am in love because even in the coolness of January I get hot sweats" could be due to global warming and not because you found Miss Right.

Now for the video. This will give you a kick. Asha Bhosle and Brett Lee! Yes, the cricketer. And it's at the top of the Indian charts now!

The video is available on You tube. And when you think Lee wrote and sung the song himself, it's quite good! And yes it's in English so I am not all Bollycrazy here.

Go ahead and spoil away.

PS. And oh, I ran into one Abhishek Bachchan last night.

How We (Heart) Bollywood

Following was the email I sent out to ALL my friends here:

Hey people,
Salaam-E-Ishq, starring like everyone minus SRK, and directed by director of Kal Ho Na Ho, is releasing on Jan 26 (FRI). Do you guys want to go on that weekend? I don't know about you guys but haven't seen that type of mushy film in a while. Show times will be around 8 and 11 pm at Albion/Woodside.

Following was one reply I got from one of my friends:

I am in Bangladesh now, but my flight lands in Toronto at 8 pm on 26th...if some kind soul out there is willing to pick me up at the aiport then I am up for it (11 pm).

Why Do Men Go Back To Marry?

This post is dedicated to all my female friends, sisters and readers. This is probably my most raw and politically incorrect post.

Q: Why do Bengali men go back to Bangladesh to marry?
The short answer: Because they can. And because they don't get here what they can get there.

The long answer:
Before I go on, there are people who know me personally who read this blog. I don't want you to read this post and come to the conclusion that I am running off to Bangladesh to hunt for a bride, else I will personally come and break your leg. Or get my 'behna' from the previous post to do it for me. I was quite flabbergasted when on Eid a visiting friend asked me, "so when did you get engaged to this British girl?" I was like WTH yet somehow this rumor got started by one over-zealous blog reader.

(also, BTW, if you are going to start a rumor about me, can you consult me first? There are so many things I want people that talk about me to talk about ...)

Back to guys going back to Bangladesh.

It's only guys who have the option of going back to marry. For girls, this is not a serious option. Think about it.

We (the guys) go back, find an educated girl, marry her and come back. She joins us 3-4 months later after the paperwork is processed. Now she is here, but her educational degrees are not recognized, so she cannot work immediately. No problem, in our culture it's the man who earns. So while we go to work, she can study and get her credentials recognized, and then she can join the workforce. It's compatible with her upbringing.

Now imagine you, the girl, bringing your husband over. He was probably working in some good job in Bangladesh. Upon coming here, he has to retake university courses which could take as long as two years. Not only does he have to pay tuition, he has to depend on you for the family income while he studies. Bangladeshi men come from a very male-dominated society and it causes a lot of friction (mainly due to their oversized ego) when it's the wife who is the big earner in the family. On the top of that, his wife is not as submissive as the women he is used to - hence most of the marriages I see where the girl went back and 'imported' a husband has sadly ended in divorce.

The guys these girls married are decent guys to start with, but long hours at odd jobs, language problems, cultural differences, living with in-laws and lack of a proper job causes a lot of marital problems.

Thus it is to the girls' advantage to marry someone already here.

Now for the reasons why guys here go back. There is a saying: "Perception is truth". Things I say here may not be true per se, but the perception of them being true certainly is.

Number one, age.

Take the case of a Canadian desi girl. She has finished university. Age - 22. Now when her parents tell her to marry she will delay it. "I want to live and enjoy my independence first." Two years later - age 24. Then she will reluctantly agree to marriage. Parents start looking. It takes a while. Age - 25.

Guys - same thing. So both sets are looking at age 25. You think a 25-year-old guy wants to marry a 25-year-old girl? Very rarely. Parents have a big say in arranged marriages and most parents of sons want a daughter-in-law at least 2-4 years younger (and truth be told, the guys would like that too). In Bangladesh, most girls I know are ready to get married by 21. If you are the guy, who would you choose?

This is why many girls I know, who started to look for a husband at age 21 or so, met a person they liked, not one they had to settle for.

Number two, attitude.

Call it dhong, nokhra, playing "hard-to-get", whatever. It's cute at first. Then it just gets irritating.

Number three, demands. And being extremely materialistic.

Especially from mothers of girls. Groom must be a doctor. Groom must earn six figure salary. Groom must look like Abhishek Bachchan (even when daughter looks like Aishwarya's mom). And so on. Yes, guys also have demands. But you know what, when guys go back to Bangladesh, they will flash their Canadian citizenship, their condo, their brand new car and they will get a wife who will meet their demands. Unfair? May be. Read this.

Number four, respect.

Respect for the husband. Respect for his parents.

It's sad but in my opinion women here don't respect their husbands as much as women from back home. Statements like "well my husband is just another man who has to EARN my respect" just proves this point. There is a reason why God tells all kids to listen to their mom, and tells the mom to listen to her husband, and tells the husband to obey God to be fair and loving. Man is the head of the household. There is nothing to stop the women from being the neck that turns the head, but the head demands respect.

I have observed how my educated, rich, 'modern' (i.e. not illiterate buffoons from the village but NSU/Dhaka Univ) sister-in-laws from Bangladesh behave with their husbands. And I have seen how wives here treat their husbands. There is a difference. Doesn't stop my complaint that Bengali men are the most hen-pecked of the desi lot, though.

Respect for parents. I just came to know of a girl who wanted nothing to do with her boyfriend's parents. Boyfriend then told her he wanted nothing to do with her.

Despite all of this, personally I would probably marry a girl from here. Even though girls from back home are maybe more Bollywoodishly beautiful, charming, will make tea for me (my only demand), and so on, my reasons for marrying a Canadian Bengali woman would be as follows:

• All the above promote an idea that "Bengali woman from the motherland are beautiful, subservient, Islamic, obedient". This may be nothing more than an idealized version of how things were, not how they are now.
  
• If I marry someone from here I can be sure she is marrying me for me, not for my passport, not for my property and definitely not for my bank balance.
  
• I am not prepared to live six months away from her after marriage. Imagine "you may now kiss the bride, ..., and repeat after six months". The immigration hassle is a bother.
  
• She is used to the lifestyle here. Girls from Bangladesh (middle class and up) are brought up in a household where there are servants (almost always called Lalmoti or Rohim) who will make their tea, sweep their floors and wash their clothes. Here, we do our own chores. Moreover, a Canadian girl knows of the struggle for life here, and will not be harboring some false hope of the Canadian dream of two cars in the garage and two moose in the pot.
  
• From what I have seen, Canadian girls actually are smarter than their Bangladeshi counterparts in many ways.
  
• What they lack in respect to their husbands, Canadian desi women make it in love. They genuinely love their husbands (or so I like to believe). I don't have too much experience here (obviously) so I will leave this point here.

Related reads:
Brown Men by Chimichanga.
On Love and Window Shopping by Liya.
PhDs are sexy by Ararat
Superficial Hotties by Haleem.

Belated Eid Mubarak

Honestly, some kids are walking advertisements for condoms. How can you, as a parent, visit someone’s house and let your kid run amok, and not care?

Our house is right next to the biggest mosque in Toronto, so on Eid day we have lots of visitors just dropping by after the prayers. One of them happens to be this family with the cutest kid ever – who also happens to be the Boy From Hell.

The kid, no older than 7, decides he was going to be Zidane, which is not bad, except that my 90-gallon aquarium was going to be Materazzi. Backing up, stroking his foot against the carpet like a bull, he charges to head butt the aquarium. I was just thankful to be there at the proper time at the proper place.

"Hey, don’t do that." I tell him.

"Why," He impishly asks me. And then, without warning, he runs at me. Crash!

Then he runs out to our balcony. Thanks to global warming it’s not full of snow as it should be, but instead I had my gym clothes on a stand, drying out. Hellboy decides it would be fun to drop my sweaty t-shirt on the aunty ringing our doorbell at that moment!

"Uff," I catch up with him. "Don’t do that."

"Why?" He asks again. And from below, the aunty, removing my T-shirt from her face, helpfully interjects, “oh beta, he’s just a kid.” Mind your own business, woman!

Then the boy arms his most powerful weapon.

"I am going to go downstairs and tell Mommy you beat me!" Liar! He starts to wail, with an evil grin on his face. And off he runs.

At that moment, my sister’s friend emerges from her room. She was talking on her cell. She finishes, and places the cell on a little table in the lobby. In a flash, the kid takes the cell in his hand and bends it to throw the phone down the stairs.

Hell hath truly no fury like a girl whose cellphone is about to be destroyed. Quicker than the eye could see, my sister’s friend had snatched the phone back, and then had the kid’s hands clasped together in a vice grip. She knelt down to face him.

"You!" In a stern voice she was looking straight at his eyes. I could almost imagine an evil 80s style Bollywood villain laughter in the background score. "You touch my phone again, and I will break your hands. Then I will work my way down and break both your legs. OK?"

The kid nods, his eyes wide.

"And if you even think of crying then I will punch your eyes out and you will never be able to cry again, OK?"

The kid nods again. No one had EVER scolded him before.

"Now go down straight to your mommy, and sit beside her until I TELL YOU TO MOVE, ok?"

She releases the boy, who meekly walks downstairs, all swagger gone, and remained seated beside his mother for the rest of their visit.

My sister’s friend turns to me and says, "Bhaiyya, some kids just need a verbal spanking."

Yes. It was my turn to nod at her.

Especially if their parents don't give them one. I go back to my room.

She called me 'bhaiyya'! *Sniff*

Eid Mubarak.

Little Mosque, Advice and That Video

As if a relatively balmy 12 degrees in what is supposed to be winter wasn't enough to remind one of the middle east, there were camels in downtown Toronto! It was all a promotional event as the CBC was giving out free chicken shawarmas to celebrate the launch of a new TV series, Little Mosque on the Prairie.

With signs like 'You say tomato, I say tabouleh', the clips of the TV show so far are funny and hilarious. This is one pilot I am eagerly awaiting, and my only complaint so far (already!) is that the Muslim characters are mostly Arab or African. I mean, we do have some Bengali Muslim bloggers ...

* * *

I am not usually accustomed to giving advice. Yesterday a friend asked me for some advice as she was about to graduate. I hope what I said made sense, as the last time someone asked me for graduation advice the situation went a bit like this:

I was eating with a friend who was just about to graduate. As I am in the middle of tackling these mouthwatering scrumptious tiger shrimps in a noodle dish, he tells me, "I am so conflicted."

"Uh-uh." I mumble. The shrimps were so delectably juicy.

"I want to work and earn some money you know," my friend remarked, "but my dad wants me to apply for med school. Our whole family is into medicine and he wants me to continue the work and be another doctor."

"Right, right." I said in between bites. "Man try this, this is good."

"Ya," he didn't even reflect on my oh-so-generous offer of one shrimp. "I am so torn. On one hand my dad left his practice to be here to give us the opportunity, and now I don't want to be a doctor."

"Well," I realized he was not going to give me any peace until I said something. "It's all about following your calling you know. The heart knows what it wants."

I didn't know what I was saying. I just sprouted some rubbish and went back to eating. The next thing I know he is staring at me with his wide eyes.

"Man that's so profound. Wow, that's really deep."

"Ya?"

"You have a way with words man. The heart knows what it wants. That's awesome. Thanks man."

So he didn't become a doctor, and is doing quite well otherwise. His father doesn't return my salaams at the parties.

And I still like tiger shrimp.

* * *

Has anyone seen the Saddam execution video? When I first came to know of its existence I did not want to view it, but then morbid curiosity (the kind that draws you towards the scene of a traffic accident) got the better of me, and I viewed the graphic footage. How can I sum up my feelings? Oh yes, shock and awe.

Shock that a state execution, what is supposed to be a sombre and solemn affair, turned out to be a mob lynching, and awe about the apparently fearless way Saddam died, with the kalimah on his lips. And utter amazement at the fact despite the knowledge of his heinous crimes and tales of his brutal oppression, his executioners have actually managed to provoke sympathy for that man.

2006 - My Year In Review

When I did my 2005 year review, I began with the statement that "2005 did not carry much significant milestones". Although nothing much happened in 2006 either, a lot occurred during the year that helped me grow and mature as a person.

Ya, whatever.

First up, January saw me go through a weird psychological experiment. I also got irritated at a person I know who keeps going for Hajj repeatedly (yes, he is there again this year)and I classified Bengali uncles watching cricket. The long time Liberal government of Canada fell.

February saw the now infamous cartoon controversy burst forth. When it first came out I thought it was a fantastic PR opportunity for the Muslim governments. My cousin was scolded by a Jamaican for having 3 kids with the same woman. February 21 was observed with style on MSN. I wrote about the challenges of organizing a brown ski trip, particularly if it involves asking ladies their weight.

An inspiring true love story was March's main post, as Bush tried to play cricket. I wrote about the Top 5 Cool Things About Being a Desi. A remarkable cricket game occured at the Wanderers. U of T put up Bornona, their signature annual show. I am sure you all remember what happened to my cousin when he tried to give us marital advice on the sly.

In April, I tried a bit of superstition to help Bangladesh win (again) against Australia, but it didn't work. An aunty sat in my car and listened to my song. The issue of 'lowly Asian' workers in the Middle East has always bugged me, so I wrote about it here. To this date that post has gotten the maximum comments (followed closely by my post criticizing Vivah, so I wonder where people's priorities lie).

If you toss this coin and call 'Heads' do you win? May also saw an insane Toronto transit strike.

If you are going to meet someone 'at the food court' (you know what I mean) you may want to read this. The world cup was on (I made some predictions - the best of which was France will beat Brazil) which led to lots of cars sporting flags. A survey said desis are really rude people, so I had to respond.

July saw me encounter a sad example of a man on the subway, while I read of a brave woman in Bangladesh. I listed reasons why guys should remain single. Italy won the world cup.

A truly hilarious conversation at a park, and I posted my Minebuster video. I saw KANK and it left me troubled.

Arriveth September. With zero experience of women, I decided I was the perfect guy to write about why guys and girls are different and girls really have it wrong. It's probably posts like those that are the reason why I continue to have zero experience with women. I went on a safari. I visited New York, and reflected on my TA experiences.

October saw Jack Straw comment on the veil, and I had to put my take on it. Dr Muhammad Yunus won the Nobel Peace Prize, and naturally I was very proud of him. As far as size goes, mine is this big (I am talking about laus, naturally). I maintain that Bengali husbands are the most hen pecked of the desi lot. This post was from the heart, an eventually won an award too.

In November I noted why being the first born has its unique perks and cons, joined Facebook, had lunch with a nurse, dissed Vivah, and decided I didn't want to go to Bangladesh for the break.

December, I won an award and read about why Indian wives could be unhappy. RIS was obviously the main event of December. I started with a reminder of things not to do, before I attended the event (recapped here and here). Highlight of RIS apart from the religious aspect: meeting a few other bloggers and blog readers.

And oh, I had a talk with my blog. She's doing fine now. We are still on speaking terms. She was a bit angry after I decided to call hot girls hot. Who am I to decide what girls should find offensive, I was told.

See you in a year.

On the "Hotness" Question

I was reading a friend's blog post on how she gets offended when someone uses the word 'hot' to describe a woman. She is not unique, I know many people like that.

I was at RIS when a hawker at a stall in the bazaar, while talking to a female friend of mine, described her a hot Trinidadian. Now this was in an Islamic conference! And of course my friend was all indignant and angry.

Moreover, when told about behaviour of aunties when picking brides for their wives, where the aunties would display the pictures of prospects on a table and then pick and choose, based on beauty alone, girls usually start foaming around the mouth.

"Hah, what about personality, what about this, that..."

Let me add my two cents here as a man.

Every man wants a hot wife. There. Now you know. I would love my future wife to be hot (for me alone). I would love to compose poems for her beautiful eyes or hair or whatever. I would love her to come sashaying down the stairs in a beautiful dress (be it a Western dress - shoulders covered of course, or be it a beautiful lahenga or a sari, or even the lowly shalwar kameez, or be it just a T-shirt) but every man wants a physically attractive wife. In other words - hot.

Now beauty is in the eyes of the beholder. While one may like long hair, another may like a curvaceous figure while yet another may prefer a tall, lanky girl, while others may base their criterion on voice, and so on. You will notice these are all physical attributes.

One thing girls forget about aunties selecting girls based on looks is that these girls have already been pre-screened by other factors. For example those girls would have been daughters of their friends, or some close relative, or of similar education, wealth and social standing, etc. In other words, similar mentality and compatible background. You know, for example a girl a university degree is bound to be smart, and so on. So looks are secondary. I have always told my parents I don't care (much) for looks, a girl has to be a good girl. Decent values. She doesn't even need to like Hindi movies. Most important is that we click.

Also, what about girls? Don't girls look for "presentability"? As in 'my guy has to be presentable'. He has to be tall. Smartly dressed. Not have a FOB-by accent. Rich is very good.

Of course girls are not superficial here. No no, then they are looking for "stability". Which is good for a marriage. As opposed to us men who are just superficial chauvinistic pigs who just want a doll. Sure.

I used to think girls who used to say "guys are superficial if they concentrate on looks" are ugly themselves. That opinion has changed as I met - "hot" - women who think similarly. So why do they get offended at the word "hot"?

As a guy, if some girl called me hot I would not mind (hehe) but I am comfortable with my body. Although when I go to the gym I am thinking of Shiney Ahuja (that's the body I want to build since John Abraham is now out of reach with his long hair - for those of you on my MSN list wondering what "Project John Abraham Failed" meant this was it).

I find it's usually girls who I consider 'hot' are not the ones that are physically the most attractive but those that are comfortable in their own skins.