"You are not to blame for bittersweet distractor.. dare not speak its name, dedicated to all human beings.. Because we separate like ripples on a blank shore."

Had I know how to save a life.

As the days continue to literally fly by, and seconds turn into years, I find myself turning into a cliché. I question life’s purpose, strive to understand and work towards a greater cause, and struggle to find the time/focus/energy to effect change – all noble efforts and concerns, sure, but so damn trite and overdone.

Blame it on the alcohol (disclaimer : I don’t actually drink, but thanks for judging me anyway), or just another quarter-life crisis, but the monotony and routine of life has become increasingly unbearable as of late. And I’m not talking the type of monotony that incites feelings of i-need-a-summer-fling or my-hair-color-is-so-drab. Nor am I talking the type of monotony that requires borderline addictive doses of Prozac and straightjackets.  It just seems that in 2009, this glorious era of empowerment and technology and innovation, our bubbles have become so convenient, so all-encompassing, that our comfort lures us into a delirium of complacency.

On the other hand, there are individuals doing tremendously remarkable things everyday. Mr Nobody develops an application for the iPhone and banks $40Gs a month, Kumar makes it to the White House, Jamie Dimon makes it to heaven.. and really, with the exception of Demigod Dimon, there is no magic fairy dust in anyone enabling them to achieve excellence.

So what is the motivation, then, if not aforementioned magic fairy dust? Is brilliance and distinction derived from passion, or is it a fortunate side effect of unfortunate times? Mr Nobody was laid off from his job, and in a spontaneous attempt to secure the financial stability for his family for just one month, he managed to develop an iPhone application which sold enough copies the first month to cover the mortgage (paraphrased from an NYT article). He then went on to tweak said application, eventually turning it into a powerhouse in the iStore, selling tens of thousands of copies a month. Is he smart? Absolutely. Would he be sittin’ so pretty if his tool of a boss never laid him off? Unlikely.

If you know anything about my blogs, you know that a) rarely do I ever make sense, and b) my posts are generally pointless, though I do try to play devil’s advocate to ensure you, as a reader, get a neutral approach to this pointlessness. In that vein, then, I propose to you my next question: is all of life as simple as cause and effect? Does passion really play no goal? Beneath my graceless cynical exterior lies an idealist who would have to disagree. Yes, fate and karma and circumstance and many other pre-determined factors certainly do play into your luck/life.. but all the rainbows and pots of gold in the world couldn’t bring you everlasting success without some sort of internal drive. Jazba. A friend of mine got the urdu word tattooed on herself in college (jazba = passion) and I fell head over heels in love with her for it. Passion is the currency of success. For many, it is the measure of success. Sure, youre king of the world – but do you love your kingdom? Are you passionate about your imperialism?

Which transitions me not-so-smoothly to my next concern. As fickle, fickle beings, humans are not lauded for their commitment-inclined personas. So are you really pigeonholed by one passion for all your life? If you do decide to venture outside of your comfort bubble into the world of philanthropy or entrepreneurialship, such a venture requires commitment and dedication, and an eternity of patience. How do you reconcile that responsibility with the several different causes you may hold near to your heart? There are 25 different things that jump out at me on a daily basis.. I may hear a beautiful acapella and convince myself I should take up singing lessons; I might end up at the hospital after a colleague’s spontaneous sickness and convince myself I need to get back into volunteering as a candy striper; I might watch a youtube clip and decide I will be Dalia Mogahed’s protégé, following her right into the Obama administration. How the hell do I pursue those ventures, while still keeping my career, deen and sanity intact? Is there any way to merge all facets of one’s life together, seamlessly and efficiently, for maximum benefit to myself and the global community?

Clearly, I have no answers. Being a good person can be so complicated. But the biggest obstacle lies within finding the passion within yourself.. finding that drive that motivates you to help others for the good of society at large, finding the discipline to harness your own energy and use it appropriately and selflessly, without necessarily losing yourself in the process.

All I know is life is short, and fate is cruel. Find your niche, and start laying the foundation for your legacy. Fisabilillah.

“And I’m grindin till I’m tired, they say ‘you ain’t grindin till you tired’.. so I’m grindin with my eyes wide – lookin to find a way through the day, a light for the night..”

Sweet Sacrifice.

As time continues to pass you by in a flurry of dreariness, suddenly and most unexpectedly, things begin to fall into place. Age-old adages become the most enlightened glimpses into philosophy, becoming dogmas by which you balance your entire existence. And as your surroundings appear in this newfound light of clarity, a sense of optimism and pride in your immediate reality that is ever elusive is renewed.

Never before have I been so aware of sacrifice as the past several months of my life. The smallest instances seem so beautifully divine to me – a mother breaking vows to protect her child, a grandmother forgoing sleep to ease the cough of a precious grandchild, a chaplain giving up his right to experience the joy and despair of youth for the sake of his community. It’s all so ordinary, so everyday, and so damn inspiring.

Human selfishness and hedonism truly knows no bounds, but thankfully, as individuals with psyche’s faceted like diamonds, there are hundreds of dimensions to our characters.. some of which could even be classified as altruistic. The heart, when it loves, loves passionately and madly. This madness cherishes unconditionally, supports without evidence, and nurtures without reason.

Perhaps it’s true that this caliber of emotion cannot be upheld or sustained for too long.. people change, circumstances evolve, situations deteriorate. And humans are but living creations – our minds deny us, our hearts grow weary, and expectations disappoint. But it seems this cycle of best-friends-become-strangers is just yet another piece of evidence attesting to the resilience of man. We fall in love so fervently, with such ardor, all but worshipping the lucky recipient of our adoration and devotion.. and 2 years later, we’re back in the game, making new memories with new people – different stories, special all their own, but certainly with no less worth nor passion.

There are degrees of love, no question. Friendship, compassion, fondness, even mild concern – all points around the circle of the all-encompassing emotion. To be fair, as unsatiable humans, “true happiness” is not achieved without one’s soulmate and star-crossed lover. But in a society where fathers abuse their daughters, where clergy cannot be trusted with children, where governments persecute their own citizens; a simple nod from a stranger will revitalize you. Because at some point you realize, no one is under obligation to anyone else. Every act of kindness – every single act of kindness, – whether it’s an anonymous multimillion dollar donation or just a fruit basket for an individual who is ill, is completed very deliberately and willfully. And when all you’ve known is hardship, this realization alone could become your lasting hope in the world.

It literally warms the heart to know that even in this era of capitalism, materialism, sadism and isolation, catastrophe still melts even stoned souls, and inspires a wave of collective unity and action. Again, because of the ever-fickle nature of man, a global call to arms rarely survives longer than a non-refrigerated guava (recent discovery, sorry).. but something is better than nothing. Though charity never ends, the biggest hurdle is the threshold of absolute apathy.

I’m the biggest critic of humanity. I’m frustratingly pessimistic by nature, quick to find fault with the human nature and reveal its innate flaws in the harsh spotlight of reality. But somewhere, nestled way below my hopelessness and frustration and even revulsion, I’m comforted by the tests that befall us. Because as long as somewhere a 5 year old still trick-or-treats for UNICEF, a soldier still carries the enemy’s child to safety, and a mother still willingly relinquishes her entire life, its dreams and passions and goals for revolutionary change, to raise her own flesh and blood the best way she knows how – well darling, then there’s still hope for sunshine tomorrow.

God willing.

“Now don’t you understand, man, universal law? What you throw out comes back to you, star. Never underestimate those who you scar, cause karmakarmakarma comes back to you hard. Until you do right, all you do is go wrong.”

Am I part of the cure, or am I part of the disease?

Incredible. Extraordinary. Insane, remarkable, unfathomable, and so damn incredible. It truly is a new day.

But on the eve of this new dawn in politics, global socialization, and a fresh new chapter in the history books of a world that has done so wrong so often, the fire of hope ablaze in all of us applies to much more than just the seemingly bright future of America.

“Yes, we can” – this inspiring creed that has carried us through this election goes beyond the power of our vote. “Yes, we can”.. what exactly? Yes, we can stabilize tumultuous markets and an economy on the brink of collapse. Yes, we can repair a planet that has all but been defeated by the materialistic consumerism rampant today. Yes, we can restore the most basic civil liberties to thousands of people unnecessarily victimized by the war on terror, returning to them their lives, identities, dignities, and faith. Yes, we can. And yes, we will.

Yes, we can right the wrongs of our forefathers and our peers. Yes, we can protect innocent children who are trafficked and sold everyday, as detachedly as cattle or grain. Yes, we can lend our hands and give our support to refugees across the world who haven’t a patch of dirt to call home or the freedom to choose their next meal. Yes, we can fight tyranny and injustice in all its repulsive forms, and transform the oppressors who propagate such hatred. Yes, we can. And yes, God willing, we damn sure will.

Prayer is such a phenomenon. For some, it’s the start to everyday, the inauguration of every task. A simple act that, thru repetition, has become habitual and involuntary. For others, prayer is the last hope. The very last card to play when all else has failed.. when the world has beaten and crushed the very spirit out of you, when the thought of a Supreme Being is the only thing that brings solace in a lonely and terrifyingly dark world.

But where does one begin to ask? When you spread your hands in earnest before your Creator, how do you even narrow down the overwhelming list of dua’a? You pray for your parents, your siblings, extended family, close friends, deceased relatives, the usual. You pray for your own deen, your own ever-lacking spirituality, your success and your happiness and your health and your all-encompassing future. You pray for the ummah, a community in peril, in desperate need of proper guidance to remain on the Straight Path. You send your salutations upon the Messenger, taking a moment to give something to the individual who has given so much, and centuries later, continues to give.

Then your mind wanders to the less obvious appeals on behalf of the world at large. You pray for orphans, for the plight of children and troubled families everywhere. You pray for homeless individuals, and those forced to beg on the streets to live just another day. You pray for the crippled man you saw on the subway, struggling and focusing the energy of his entire being just to make it down the steps; for the teenage girl in line ahead of you at the supermarket with bruises up and down her body; for soldiers in all armies, fighting all fights, irrespective of their own political or religious convictions. You pray for the girl you knew so long ago who desperately wanted to start the hijaab, but was unable to overcome the obstacles in her way. And of course you pray for those who are sick, physically or mentally, for those who are hurting, spiritually or financially, and for those who have done you wrong. Spite that simmers beneath the surface is arguably a soul’s greatest malady.

But no amount of dua’a ever seems to be enough. Because as you kneel with your head lowered and your palms outstretched, your lips cant seem to echo your thoughts quick enough. Requests and people flash in front of your eyes, and even an eternity on your knees seems far too fleeting. When you finally get up from the musallah, you become awash with a sense of anxiety at the thought of everyone you forgot to pray for, everything you left out in your haste.

I suppose, though, such is the nature of man. Nothing is ever enough. The spiritual cleansing associated with an hour in silent meditation just leaves us wanting more. And 2 years of arduous campaigning still had us restless and apprehensive, waiting with bated breath as precinct by precinct reported its numbers.

So, change? Yes, we can. Though my goosebumps refresh with every repetition of that phrase, yes, we absolutely can. We can, we did, and will continue to do so.. and so much more. Just a matter of staying focused.

What a scintillating time to be alive, family. What a scintillating time.

“Saanson ki maala pay simroon mein pii ka naam; apne mann ki main jaanun, aur pii kay mann ki raam.  priitam ka kuch dosh nahi hai, who toh hai nirdosh.. apne aap say baatain karkay hogayi mein badnaam.”

Crazy, how it, feels tonight..

Life is but a journey. Though it seems to be a gross understatement and a huge disservice to the complexity and intricacy of this universe and all it has entailed, does entail, and will entail, unfortunately that phrase is perhaps the most conclusive and resounding statement on life as a whole. It is but a journey. And as with all journeys, one leg is not entirely indicative of whats to come.. and as with all journeys, the destination and purpose is ever-evolving.

I was taught from a very young age to do unto others as I would have done unto myself. My mother was wise – raised me to be pragmatic, rational, and fair.. essentially imparting in me all the key components for developing a strong aversion to drama. Unfortunately for her, I was born a leo, thereby more or less defeating any possibility of me being a calm and just person.. but I’d like to think as far as rationale and logic goes, I’ve more than exceeded the normal human quota. It’s a cruel reality, however, that the world does not work based on any single human’s expectations. Though kindness seems simple enough, and treating your peers justly seems the only logical way to get through life, the complementary qualities of honesty and loyalty are much harder to implement. Humans, in essence, are selfish beings by nature. Sure, there are sacred bonds, divinely sanctioned, that demand a respect that goes above and beyond what is granted to any average human relationship. But for the most part, it’s a dog-eat-dog world with little consideration for which dog it is exactly that you’re eating, or how many bones he’s shared with you along the way.

Why, then, is betrayal so appalling? So utterly shocking, that it quite literally leaves you incapacitated and in a state of absolute shock and incomprehension as to the ways of this world? For as long as man has lived, and shall live really, lies and deceit are but a part of daily life. Just another few of life’s unpleasantries, to be dealt with much like idiotic drivers and the cumulative body odor of the masses. AVOID. But for some reason, every time another truth is brought to light, a man’s nature reacts like it’s been burned for the very first time. A fresh new wave of disappointment, a fresh hour of despair, a fresh dua’a made for a better life, with better people, with cleaner hearts.

The most amusing part of all of this is that you see it coming, because no one can ever be taken by honest surprise by a liar. Wallahi, as deceptive and manipulative as a human may be, subhan’Allah no one is really skilled enough to maintain a façade for every minute of everyday. At some point, even the thickest most decorated walls come crashing down. The fundamental difference between humans and animals is startlingly apparent – one has intellect, one is a creature of instinct and habit.. but while humans have been blessed with intellect and free will, they’ve also been cursed with the burden of a heart. A heart that feels, loves, protects, hurts and overwhelms. A heart that makes excuses, when the writing is already on the wall. Of course, Islamic doctrine tells us to grant our brothers and sisters 70 excuses before accusing them of sin, of any wrongdoing. But for someone with even a less than average imagination, this task is but a joke. 70 excuses for a junkie shooting heroin in a dark alley could range from “he’s faking” to “he’s a practicing doctor” to “he’s just hella sufi (just jokhinggg)”. Where’s the line? Is there a line? How many excuses do you grant when the obvious reality is plain as day?

So now maybe the journey of life isn’t too much of a journey after all. Maybe it’s just a series of events that repeat themselves like some sort of morbidly twisted black and white movie. Like the classic horror screenplay, where the murderer lurks behind every door the dumb blonde babysitter is stupid enough to open. Over and over and over -- until every relationship forged becomes another lost,  every interaction essentially melts into the prior one, and your entire life dissipates into one huge pool of indistinguishable “memory”. Because trust and deceit are indispensable elements of any relationship, and that much is a necessary evil. But though is it a widely accepted certainty that people come and they go, the “going” is always perpetually harder to digest when it results from the unscrupulous disrespect of the underlying tenets of any given relationship. Truth be told, as a born and bred desi, especially, drama flows through your veins perhaps even more forcefully than blood. It manifests its ugly head into every aspect of the desi social dynamic, and is unfortunately an undeniable force. But while you may be fully cognizant of the propensity of desis to gravitate towards drama and essentially thrive off of it, the minute anything is thrown your way, you’re still floored. We always like to think of ourselves as the exception, na?

Thankfully, this twisted world gives us much to be apprehensive about besides the freshest info circulating the MSA rumor mill. Children are still being sold in brothels, sons are still watching their mothers be raped.. food, water, shelter are still unfathomable luxuries for communities on end, and kameena#1 Asif Ali Zardari is still the reigning leader of Pakistan.

But somehow it’s still so.. disappointing?

"She's got a smile that it seems to me, reminds me of childhood memories, where everything was as fresh as the bright blue sky.. now and then when i see her face she takes me away to that special place, and if I'd stare too long, I'd probably break down and cry.. whoa, sweet child of mine. Whoa, sweet love of mine."

Light of my life.

Fear is such an unbelievable force. A myriad of manifestations, but always, always, the same basic element with the same ever-repetitive outcome. The most miraculous part is arguably its all-consuming nature, undeniable no matter the intensity of the situation. Whether youre gripped by the terror of failure, death, spiders, the unseen, or a seemingly mundane crack in the sidewalk – somehow, unfailingly, the panic manages to seep into every pore of your body, coursing through every vein and every vessel leaving no millimeter of your complex system free from paralysis.

Academics have researched phobias for several millennia, uncovering some essential truths but never really getting to the root of the issue. Ranging from basic superstitions to real, debilitating mental crises, phobias are an incontestable part of every living human’s life.. from the most logical, pragmatic individuals amongst us, to the self-proclaimed junkies who’ve done one too many lines of coke to be able to successfully distinguish reality from hallucinations. But for each person, suffering from each type of phobia, the initial shock is always the same.

It’s a daily ritual, one you barely give any thought to. After years of the same routine, it’s become second nature, a nightly chore that could be completed with your eyes closed. But somehow, as you wait for him to emerge from the poorly lit walkway like thousands of times before, your paranoia commands your attention once more – and suddenly, no moment has ever been so important, so dreadfully SIGNIFICANT for you in your whole life. The fear grips you, mesmerizes you, despite how many times your psychiatrist may have walked you through breathing exercises or given you completely rational proofs systematically dismantling the very foundation of your apprehension. It starts in your stomach, quite literally rising to your throat till you can just barely conceal a scream with all the intensity of your entire being. Your mind races, piecing together horrendously morbid (and fairly outlandish) possibilities for his delay.. was there an accident? Did he collapse? A stabbing? Potential detainment? Prayers flow from between your lips without any voluntary effort from you, as you desperately start counting the minutes since the last call and the people who all wearily appear from the same passageway your gaze has been fixed so intensely upon for the last.. infinity?

Till finally, you see him. The same familiar gait you’ve known all your life, the easy jovial saunter that speaks volumes of his character and even more of the light that brings you sanity constantly. The clichéd wave of relief literally washes over you - your body finally untenses, your fingers ease their grip on your cellphone. A final prayer escapes your lips, as you pause for a moment to relish this moment of satisfaction; this sweet, perfect moment of knowing your world is right once again.

What tangled webs we weave, ay?