The Fall of America

The US financial meltdown has spread to Europe as well. Portugal, Ireland, Greece, Spain (appropriately dubbed PIGS), and now Italy are all engulfed in such severe financial crises that they threaten the very survival of the euro as well as the European Union. And there is nothing the US can do to rescue its European colonial brethren. There is no possibility of a second Marshall Plan. If there is no money to get out of the mess at home, what chance is there to help others across the Atlantic? Washington politicians, in government and Congress, are clueless about how to get out of the mess. Indeed, most members of Congress, themselves millionaires, have directly contributed to the financial crisis by handing out billions to their masters on Wall Street. There is not only disappointment but also outright cynicism about American politics. This is evident in the Occupy Wall Street Movement, made worse by the manner in which peaceful protesters have been brutalized by the police on orders from city officials that in turn take their marching orders from Wall Street executives.

It is also interesting to note — and this must be the unkindest cut — that newspaper headlines ask whether China, not the US, will come to the rescue. This confirms the seismic change that has occurred in global politics.

We must, however, address the other factor that is absent from Western thinking: that of iman. It transcends military and financial power. Both in Afghanistan and Iraq, the resistance did not match US-NATO firepower or depend on astronomical sums of money. What they lacked in material terms, they more than made up for in determination and sacrifice inspired by iman. The same factor was evident in Iran’s eight-year war against Iraq, Hizbullah’s resistance against Zionist onslaught in 2006 and Hamas withstanding the three-week bombardment of tiny Ghazzah in 2008–2009. True, people cannot fight tanks and planes with their bare hands but when confronted by a hugely unbalanced situation, the first thing to do is not panic. Material considerations alone do not determine the outcome of a struggle. If this were the case, the Americans would still be in Vietnam, the Russians in Afghanistan and Israel in Lebanon. The Americans have been taught this lesson all over again in Iraq and Afghanistan.

The lesson for Muslims is clear. Material superiority alone is not enough. Muslims struggling for their rights must rely on the strength of iman. This is a far greater weapon than anything the US can muster. America’s demise proves this again.

Emotionally driven writing

I don't write much despite the fact that my friends and family have told me quite often that I have that spark that not everyone has when it comes to writing. Its not that I don't want to. Its just that I have this permanent writer's block or something. I realised that I write only when I experience something deep on an emotional level.

This is something that I wrote right after we wont the T20 World Cup Final.

From the rampaging militants in the north, the IDPs, double-digit inflation figures, schools, hotels and masjids being bombed, to our President who was caught on camera drinking wine while representing the Islamic Republic of Pakistan.

Anarchy and chaos, it seems, has become and integral part of Pakistan’s existence, but our men have shown the world that we can still rise from these ashes.

But one wonders what a mere win can do. The joy that comes from a major win, spreads like wild fire across the hearts of many and forges bonds and eases pain, however momentarily. That radiating joy resonates in every Pakistani giving them that affirmation, that WE can do anything.

This is the day the world shall remember as the day our Pakistani cricket team brought home the T20 Cricket Worldcup and gave hope to Pakistanis of better days to come. Our country it seems, may always be in tumult, always on the edge, always in danger of being pushed to its margins, yet … they are always potential winners. Pakistan Zindabad!

Misconceptions about the Mal'oon Aal-e-Saud: Caretakers of the Holy sites of Islam

Some two million Muslims are assembled in Makkah al-Mukarramah for the performance of Hajj. If the past is any guide, this Hajj will also be performed as a set of rituals in which the hujjaj go through various motions without realizing why they are doing this.

In Islam, every act of ibadah has a spiritual as well as ritualistic dimension. The spiritual dimension is the essence but most Muslims have been deliberately kept in the dark about it. Hajj, the most arduous of Islamic ibadaat, is also a victim. Whereas it should be a journey in obedience to Allah and a submission to His Will in fulfilling the sacrifice of Ibrahim (a), it has been reduced to a set of empty rituals. Hajj, was a platform where all the leaders of the muslim ummah could gather to discuss issues and problems for the betterment and prosperity of Islam. Pilgrims are required to openly proclaim their dissociation from the mushriks but how is that possible when the occupiers of the Haramain — the House of Saud — themselves are the most obedient servants of the mushriks?

Alot of people that I know are under the sad impression that the Sauds are the caretakers of Islam. The fact is that they are the termites that have eaten away at the pillars of Islam. History goes to show that the Saud family were infact nomads who roamed the deserts of Arabia and used to loot people travelling to perform Hajj. With the passage of time they discovered and seized control over an oil well and its all history from that point.

Further, the Saudis are busy demolishing the historic sites of Islam, turning the noble sanctuaries in Makkah and Madinah into replicas of Las Vegas and New York. Where is the spirituality in concrete and glass monstrosities that have sprung up replacing such historic sites as the house of Khadijah (pbuh), the be-loved wife of the Messenger (pbuh), or the house where Abu Bakr Siddiq (pbuh) lived? The graveyard of Jannat-ul-Baqi where Fatima (pbuh), the beloved daughter of our Holy Prophet (pbuh) was buried. Some 90% of the historic sites have been destroyed. Will Muslims rise up to save their heritage from the cultural hooligans?

Earthquake Ordeal

No one should ever have to go through what I did that night. I was eight and we were in LA, California at the time.

I heard loud screams of my parents yelling at us to wake up. My father's hand grasped my arm firmly and yanked me out of bed. I hadn't even woken up properly and struggled to understand what was going on. I stumbled to find my footing as he pulled me out of the room. I screamed in pain as the friction from the carpet burnt my knees. I got up ran with my father. I looked back and saw my mother as she followed us with my sisters in her arms.

It took a while for me to snap out of my state of slumber and realize what was going on - it was an earthquake.

I held my father's arm with both hands firmly as we ran through our corridor into the kitchen towards our back door which led out into our open backyard. We were running in zigzags as we struggled to find a firm footing as we made our way out. I realised we weren't even running -we just couldn't. The ground beneath our feet wasn't swaying, it was vibrating. All the crockery in the shelves and the kitchen cabinets were tinkling in their places against each other. I still remember that tinkling sound and it was eerie and horrifying. Since houses there are built mostly of wooden the whole house creaked and shook. Windows shattered in their frames. We made it out into our backyard and onto our driveway and stood close to each other as the ground shook beneath us. I could see other families had come out and stood in the middle of the street huddled together. The deep pitched roar of an earthquake is unlike anything you could ever hear in your life. I could hear the asphalt road crack beneath us. Children crying and car alarms blazing. We stood there just waiting for it all to end.

Perfect Day

Taha and Sufyan gave us all a birthday treat today. As always we had our fair share of fun with our own brand of shenanigans. There is seldom a dull moment when we're all together.

I went about taking pictures as always.

Later Danish and Nayab gave us the news of their engagement which was a very pleasant surprise. Most of us couldn't even believe it and took a while to digest the news.

Umair thought Danish and Nayab were getting married separately and on the same date xD

I know what I'm doing

Norms…This conforming to a standardised set of beliefs among the people around you. Alright, so I messed up a couple of years of academics to fall behind. So what?? I am going to turn 25 this June and I just graduated. Most of the friends I knew graduated when they were 22 and went on to do their masters and graduated from that at the age of 24. I get the “Sharam kar!” from the much younger friends I have at university so much that they gave up saying it altogether. That’s because it doesn’t bother me; the whole age thing? It never did.

I have always proceeded with the things I had a special interest in. If I had buckled under societal norms and peer pressure I would have probably been majoring in finance with them. One of my good friends, Pappy as we affectionately call her is a prime example of how one succumbs to pressure coming in from family and peers both. She went along and chose finance as her major and later regretted it. A semester later she was sitting beside me in my marketing classes. How she scored a B in the finance course she took still eludes her.

“Finance kar le, behtar hai. Aagay chal kar faida hota hai, high paying jobs milti hein, kar laiiii”

I probably heard this phrase a thousand times from my friends when the time came to choose my majors in the final year of my undergraduate program. The idea of sitting behind a desk holding a calculator doing taxes and audits just doesn’t sound appealing to me. Which is why I was drawn to marketing and advertising. Now there was something I could indulge in. Practical application of your perception and ideas.

Versatility is what I’m aiming for at this point. I’ve applied to colleges in Canada pursuing courses in creative advertising and graphics design in hopes to explore my potential since I have always been able to draw and sketch exceptionally well without the aid of arts classes of any sort. Besides that I am learning french from Alliance Franciase Karachi. Learning different languages has always fascinated me. And if I have it in me I shall keep pursuing to learn even more languages.

Bottom line is I know what I’m looking for in life, even if its a little late. I’m still going to go after it. So instead of prodding me with forks of “Sharam kar!” ask yourself whether you’re truly sure with what you want in life and are you happy with where its headed.

Kill the banana peel

I was making my way to the grocers one day, when I saw this old man across the road, probably in his late 60s. He wore a shabby old shalwar kameez with a dirty piece of cloth hung over his shoulder. His skin darkened from the blistering Karachi sun. As he made his way down the footpath, he noticed a banana peel lying right in the middle of the sidewalk. Now, one would expect that he’d just pick it up and throw it aside, or better yet…just push it aside using his foot.

I don’t know what unfortunate occurrence this poor chap had had in the past involving a banana peel. Maybe he slipped on one and went tumbling down a flight of stairs. I don’t know. But this man, he advanced towards the banana peel like a soldier would towards an enemy in close combat and began pummeling it. He pounded it into the cement sidewalk with the heel of his foot like a lunatic. He kept on driving it into the floor until he was convinced he had wiped the damned banana peel off of the face of the Earth. He adjusted his ragged old cloth over this shoulder with a satisfied look on his face and continued down the walkway.

I stood there with a blank expression on my face for a few minutes before I too made my way to the grocers with laughing voices inside my head.