Where I have been….

Oh my loves (all 4 of you)…where have I been, you wonder?

It was a month of emotions, so overwhelming that writing may not have contained them. So fluid that they dripped off the pages, dripped out of me, in tears of happiness and sadness, salty as I remained lonely though physically surrounded.

There were weddings, vacations, deaths and illnesses. There were personal triumphs, academic pursuits, and a reinvigorated commitment to a community that continues to frustrate and challenges me.

How many hands of hennah I filled, so intently, touching old wrinkled hands and young fingers covered in chocolate bits. Holding hands, caressing the lines, creating designs, and feeling your warmth was so comforting. How we ran up and down with flower arrangements here and your wedding trousseau there. How I watched you spin around in your outfit on the mendhi, and smiled through tears as I danced at your mehndhi. I was so happy.

I held your hand as you signed the nikaah documents, shaking. On the prayers that came out of my heart for you, my love, my sister, my dear friend. I found myself blowing on you as you as my grandmother would, blowing on you softly with pure breath after my heart was so filled with blessings it would have burst had I not blown it out.

I pinned your veil carefully, playfully poking you and introduced you to the world as you walked out on your reception day. My voice quivered as I read your sehra, my world shook as I hugged you goodbye and held your mother. That night I packed for my own trip to a far away country. And as I packed I cried like I never have before. Ever.

I cried in your empty room, uncontrollably and fully. I cried with such selfish pleasure.

And I walked on to a plane, from the arms of family to the teasing banter of sweet friends with their jovial laugh and energy. A sweet friend whose eyes show the concern of a sister. And so we were uninhibited in this place that knew us not. Our sun burned under the sun and we indulged. It felt sinful this luxury - the hours of massage, sand under my feet as I perused magazines, and laughed endlessly.

I am closer to a decision about the other things. But writing them makes them real. And tonight, is not the night for that reality.

Back

And the most tan I have ever been, and loving it.

Missed you all!

I can’t believe my eyes

Muslim Helps Jew Attacked on Subway

(from cnn.com)

Not so surprised that it happened, yet I will admit I was tickled. Growing up in a tight-knit Jewish community, bar mitzvahs, matzah and the JCC were household words. It was still a time where we bound together from the commonalities of being minorities, from our strong commitment to education, and from the fact that our alphabets began in such similar ways. It was a time before I had ever heard the word “Palestine,” it was a time where I would stare with wide eyes at my best friend’s coffee table book, “Israel” at the rolling hills, olive trees that jumped out from the glossy pages. It was a time I spun around singing menorah songs, and humming “I had a little dreidel.” My Jewish best friend would come over and watch my family pray maghrib, and my mom would make her “shakr roti.” (Her favorite). She would smile and thank Allah for the food with us. She would say Amen, I would say Ameen. She fasted the days of Ramadan with me, her mom making us iftar. We thought we were sisters, and later I realized that far more connected us then blood - it was a tradition, a culture, a Prophet, a Book.

I don’t know when religion became awkward, when we parted ways gradually, unassumingly, without drama. The Jewish Community Center became her life, and she went to Israel for a year. I went through a roller coaster period of activism, protesting the great evils. I haven’t spoken to her for ten years, and I desperately try to find her as times got stranger. As towers fell, and bombs were raining, I wanted the comfort of our friendship, and our innocence.

Why this article led me to these thoughts, and that friendship, I don’t know. I just know there was a time where the Jewish community felt like my own, where I went to their swim classes, and the recitation of the parashah rang in my ears post-shabbat. And I wonder, how we got from there to here. From that feeling of unity, to utter shock when a Muslim simply breaks up a fight, to protect a Jew.

I wish I could say my shock only came from the fact that something remotely positive about Muslims was in the news. But I would lie if I denied the small part of me that was surprised at more than just that.

P.S. By the way, here I am. A moderate Muslim. Talking about loving Jews, talking about the beauty of a good act, talking about peace. All the people on the blogroll to the right are doing the same. Don’t try to tell me I don’t exist.

 

 

 

 

 

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Yay! Seher Ayouno

On non-stop as I study. I love her, the song, her acting. Everything. I especially love the mother-daughter interactions, so endearing. Oh yeah, and the man is beautiful.  BEAUTIFUL!

If only this could happen to me!

Reasons to smile.

• The best Christmas cookies I have ever eaten, delivered with so much love.
• Warm cozy days with nowhere to go, days where I can stay in my pjs the entire day.
• Getting work done on the elliptical machine, so even exercise is productive!
• Dunkin Donuts coffee awakening me every morning.
• Having a studybuddy, break-partner, co-chef, and giggle monster with me all the time in the form of my roommate, my sister.
• I mentioned twirling in the snow already.
• A mind that is becoming clearer.
• Pre-finals confidence: Really understanding a hard concept, after hours of pouring over it.
• Anoushka Shankar and Karsh as my all day background.
• Cooking at home! Baked beans, fajitas, brownies and all other finals week essentials.
• Estee Lauder Advanced Night Repair
• Making Eid Presents for my favorite 1Ls, with my favorite 3Ls.
• Studying for finals, yes its true. I love it. The routine of the day, the early nights, the quite of pages turning with the soft sounds of sitar.
• An unexpected tear, in a moment with The Creator.
• Finishing a paper I am proud of, and holding the warm just-printed pages in my hands. Hell yeah, I smelled them too. And perhaps I planted a kiss on them too.
• Seeing The Economist come in the mail.
• A decision. A hard one. But at least knowing its mine to make.
• Comments on my blog (hint, hint you blurkers! )

A whole snowflake.

It felt like the snow started falling the moment I stepped out my door. Flurries floated on my street alight with holiday decorations, wreaths were blurred through the snows, bright mittens and gloves, warm sweaters, shopping bags. It was a winter wonderland.

In the background the saxophone was alive in this city of melody, I will be home for Christmas it sang to me. I felt as if I had stepped out on to a movie set the moment was so perfectly romantic, so filled with holiday cheer. It was so perfect I twirled. I twirled in my pink coat, in my favorite pink mittens and hat. And it felt so good, I twirled again. Caught some snow in my hands, chased some flurries around, and I laughed. People were looking now, smiling. A slight blush to my cheeks, and a smile back.

I love to twirl in the midst of flurries.

Happiness has been mine lately. Again and again I feel it. Not that things have gotten any better, my decision still hangs, my whole life is still in the air. But for the moment, I don’t care. I live in the moment. And I can’t be thankful enough for the blessing of this happiness. Why God has chosen that I be happy instead of miserable in this horrible time, I don’t know. But I am so grateful. And I do shukrana for this misery, that showed me that my happiness is more resilient and stays with me through my pain.

Perhaps grateful because I feel whole, without being part of an “us.” I am whole as an I. Perhaps grateful because in my years of life, I have never been an I, and been happy. Always searching for another to make me whole.

Of course I know he waits in the background, across oceans, for me. Of course I know, the decision is now in my hands to be an I or we. It empowers me, and makes me stop. But I promised myself I would make myself whole alone, before I decided what to do. I promised myself that I wouldn’t choose him, to make me whole, rather choose him to compliment the whole I already am. Perhaps this is why God wanted me to wait?

And it seems the pain was worth it, for that moment I swirled in the snow in bliss. If I had never been broken, and left, how would I know that I can fix myself? Just I, alone, can fix, can create, can sustain, can complete. I don’t need you to complete me. To complement me perhaps?

And this page will see its share of loneliness I am sure. The entries that have yet to be written with sadness, frustration, and defeat are in store for me I know. But for now, I am whole.

And that is the moment I will twirl in.