Accelerated.

What is acceleration?

The rate of change of velocity. The amount by which velocity changes in a given period of time.

Suddenly ending up in your final year of high school and having no idea how you got there so fast.

Having to deal with university applications, reference letters, gap years, entrance exams, and four subjects at A2, all at once.

Sitting in class for an entire hour and a half and having the entire lesson just fly off the top of your head.

Seeing friends scatter towards their respective destinies and wondering how on earth they grew up so fast when they were immature little kiddies just a few weeks ago.

Saying goodbye to the city you never wanted to say hello to, then realizing just how painful saying the former has become over a very short time.

Thinking about leaving and farewells in general: packing suitcases and teary airport scenes.

Realizing that you’ll miss the stupidest little things that you never really appreciated until they whizzed away from you.

Standing in the midst of your life’s story not as its protagonist, but as some helpless object frozen in time.

But, most profoundly, acceleration is your perception of the passage of time, and how you choose to respond to it. The truth is, we all feel a little rushed and not in control at times. What makes the difference is how you deal with it.

I for one, am going to keep smiling, and even more so when the world wants me to frown.

I am going to avoid procrastination, and exploit every moment.

I am going to be grateful, and pray, and find my happiness by helping others find theirs.

Or, at the very least, I am going to try.

 

A Sincere Bond of ‘Divine Love’ or mere Obsession?

This struck me as extremely relevant.
A must-read.

Muslimah Poetess

Bismillaah…

It’s 2 in the noon and the sun is gloating its scintillating heat, burning skins of every being. 15 year old Hannan, daughter of Tamanna, enters home drowning in sweat and tears glistening in her gorgeous black eyes. She drops the bag on the living room floor, and runs towards her mother’s room for a warm embrace that would undoubtedly lighten the burden that she’s been nursing in her heart all these days.

All this while, Hannan thought she was old enough to manage her petty friendship issues, but today she needed counselling. Everyone does, and who better to run to than her mom, who was a Youth Counselor by profession and her personal mentor by choice. Tamanna’s eyes pop out of shock as she sees Hannan, run towards her distressed.
The girl dramatically begins, “Mom, Mahek has changed, she is no more like before! Our beautiful bond has…

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Triple Trouble

First and foremost.

As has now become traditional of A Million Reflections, a very belated Eid Mubarak, dear readers! May Allah accept all of our imperfect Ibaadah, and grant us long lives to see many, many more Eids to come. And let’s take a moment to remember those who may be in any kind of pain or difficulty, be it family, finance, studies, poverty … and offer a prayer. May we all be alleviated from our problems, big or small. I personally had a very busy and fun Eid with lots of family and kids running around everywhere. How was yours? 🙂

Secondly.

Happy Independence Day, dear Pakistanis! (okay, and Indians) Belated of course, in my signature style 😉 May we all be blessed with prosperity, unity, stability, unity, freedom from the shackles of corruption, and most importantly, lots of jalebi. 😀

And, now. Getting to the point.

I’ve been nominated for my first blog award! I can’t properly put into words how excited and grateful and flattered and indebted and fulfilled and awesome I felt. (okay you get it)

As is customary and familiar to you bloggers, I must now credit who nominated me for this award: the sassy, opinionated young Pakistani, whose ramblings all of us can related to. You can (must!) give her a read here: VDB Says. Oh, and you curious ones can trace the origins of the award here. The man’s name is Will Brooks, I believe.

The award’s called Shine-On.

I must now, for some strange reason, mention seven strange things about myself.

1. I routinely talk to myself.

I’m serious. I do it all the time. In the shower, while studying, as I’m making coffee, sitting in a doctor’s waiting room … anytime, anywhere. My family is quite used to it. I don’t think they even notice anymore. I guess it started during those ‘eureka’ moments of mine, I’d murmur something to myself. I now have fairly audible conversations with the multiple mes in my head without even realizing. Don’t let that scare you.

2. I am a thinkaholic.

I think way, waaay more than what’s good for me. In fact, I think more than I actually do anything. Physically I may be here, but mentally I am at least a few million miles away. There is no limitation to how deep and unending my thoughts can get.

3. I’m a geography person.

Call me weird,  but I love the subject. I think of life as an excitingly complex map taking me from point A to point  B. Stepping stones in the pond of time. Footsteps in the sands of eternity.

4. I’m a Pakistani with a severe identity conundrum.

I was born and raised in Abu Dhabi, the daughter of Karachiite parents. I currently reside in Riyadh, and speak English with the remains of a British accent. There are some things about Pakistani culture that will be forever alien to me, and certain aspects of life in the UAE which I hold very close to me. It’s ironic, really. If you ask me where I come from I’ll say Pakistan, but what I actually mean is that I have absolutely no idea. And I embrace that fact. It’s fun. Honestly. 😀

5. I like quotes.

Doesn’t it make you look a whole lot more intelligent and sophisticated? Proving that some famous great mind thinks like yours? On a more serious note, I feel that quotes can add weight and meaning to your otherwise weightless, meaningless words. And aren’t some famous words beautiful.

6. I’m currently going through a purple phase.

I love a different colour every once in a while and my wardrobe shows it. My clothes will tell you that, in the not so distant past, I’ve been through a white phase, a pink phase, a blue phase, and a yellow phase. Right now my entire life will tell you that I’m going through a purple phase: my bedroom wall, my handbag, shoes, earrings, everything. I’ve been in this phase since October 2012 and it’s shown no signs of fading yet. Purple FTW!

7. I’ve a slight OCD streak.

I need certain things to be immaculately organized at all times, and others which just irrationally irritate me to no end. All kitchen items fall under this category, as do books (sometimes). Clothes do not, unfortunately. As for stains (especially those on whitewashed walls) …they can drive me a tiny bit insane.

Now that I’m done being selfish, I will now nominate 15 awesome bloggers for this award. They come from all kinds of backgrounds, and are WordPressers, BlogSpotters and Tumbr-ers (yes, my tongue hurts while saying that, too.) Believe me that this list was far more difficult to compile than it looks.

I’ve tried my best to avoid cobweb blogs that haven’t been updated in months, which is sad as some of them were pretty commendable. So, dear bloggers, I know that I myself am guilty as charged, but … please be regular with your posts.

So without further ado -drumroll- I present to you:

The Syeda Sisters

Typwritten Notes

BacktoBase

Fajr

Burger Bachee

Fifty Words A Day

The Roadside Diary

Our Spiritual Heart

Lulu’s View

Deen Sisters

MyWordYouEar

Doodling Through Life

And three more to go. First cum, first served shall we say? Let’s see 😉

May you all be blessed.

 

 

 

 

Ramadan Kareem!

With 17 days of Ramadan past us, I am well aware of the fact that my greeting is rather, ahem, early, but, nevertheless!

May the month shower its blessings, forgiveness, and mercy upon all of us, and may we all become, in whatever tiny way, better humans.

Try to make a change this month. Sure, a small one. But for the better. Maybe read Quran in the morning. Treat your friends and family better. Donate to a local masjid. Follow a Sunnah. Abstain from evil. And if you’re not Muslim, you’re still welcome to iftaar and to making new friends and learning a bit about other faiths and cultures. No one is excluded this month. You’re all guests of Allah.

Let’s not just starve ourselves this month. Let’s make a little investment too. Because you never know if you’ll be around to see next Ramadan. A petrifying thought.

If you’re short on inspiration, why not drop by here? There’s  also plenty of other ideas on Twitter, Facebook and the blogosphere, so pitch in the khair!

And may peace be with you all, assalamu alaykum!

Pakistani Summers

And so summer 2013 commences.

Hum Hain Pakistan

Pakistani summers? Haha, I’m sure the title makes you wonder, “What’s so special about Pakistani summers? Summers are the same everywhere! Hot.” But wait. Summers in Pakistan are different and special. Yes, special.

Contrary to popular belief, summer here is not just about scorching heat and countless hours of unplanned load shedding. There’s much more to it. It’s just about looking at the bigger picture. The bigger, brighter picture. For me, summer is like a festival. A festival of flavours. A festival of colours. A festival that many await.

It all begins when colourful billboards of lawn exhibitions make an appearance and women trade their high heels for comfortable joggers. You see them rushing in and out of shopping malls, loads of shopping bags clasped in their hands, beaming with pride.
If you ask a shopaholic like me, she would say that it gives her inner peace. And you bet…

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Thepublicblogger Awards – a Celebration of Community

Must read. I LOVE how this has been written. It feels extremely realistic and a phenomenal amount of effort’s been put in.

The Treasure

Rtraja does it again! The girl is on a rooolll B)
Untouched, this time. You can read the original here. 

“A Treasure.

It was that one day I stepped in your class,

that one day I never realized you,

A question had I asked the teacher…about the mole ratio and mass,

And that’s when you came out of nowhere, totally out of the blue…

This world doesn’t lack faces,

they make you laugh, cry, anxious and peaceful,

they come from all of the world’s places,

but what are you, and what had made you so humble?

You’re the one who gripped my heart,

you’re the one to guide me through,

I don’t know how to thank you, from where am I supposed to start?

You’ve been there for me, whenever I needed you…

Ya Allah, thank You for sending her here,

thank You for making her a part of me!

Ya Rabbi, people like her are truly rare,

and the outcome of patience, now do I really see….

Indeed, I have found the long lost treasure,

I have found someone to pull me up and raise my self-esteem,

I appreciate you so much, a friend like you is a huge pleasure,

You are the real face, no mask, no background, no theme….

Thank you for all you’ve done for someone that had never deserved,

Your awesomeness is truly, one that shines in the night,

You’re the luminescence when darkness covers the world,

May Allah Make the bond between us ever so tight…

knowitall10-Monday, 27th May 2013-

Raweeha this is for you…  :)”

Graduation: Her perspective

The speech that never happened.
(Originally by my twin rtraja. I did tamper with it a tiny bit to ‘blogify’ it, but it remains,  for the most part, unaltered.) I’ll post my own perspective shortly. My readers will know how much I love series 😉

The Opening Address

The one aspect that truly shines like a beacon in the dark which I will carry with me wherever I go is the warmth, kindness and care that I have experienced throughout my years at Manarat — in short, the friendship that I have come to know.

As the friendship of a classmate has been focused on, I would like to draw attention to my teachers.
They have always been there for me, with a keen interest and a discerning eye to ensure not only my success, but that I would rise should I fall, and push forward with greater fervor and tenacity. These are but a few of the qualities which have forged the body that I can sincerely call friendship.

I will be ever grateful to all my teachers, especially those that I am privileged enough to call my friends.

Last but not least, we hail our mothers for their selfless role as our unfailing friends.

Finally, I wish to leave you with a thought:

Educate a man, you educate a man, but educate a woman and you educate a nation … nay, a generation.

This is what my teachers, and our mothers, are doing, and it is for this that I say thank you!

Embracing our Grandmothers

A touching, relatable insight. ♥
Very moving if you also feel the generation gap.

D-tales

I did not know my maternal grandmother well. Come to think of it, I did not know any of my grandparents well. Both my grandfathers died when I was young, and language barriers kept me from conversing with my paternal grandmother, even though she was present throughout most of my life.

My mother’s mother, Poh Poh as I would call her, came into my life in the early 90s. She followed the path set by my two uncles as they both brought their families to Canada from Hong Kong. Until that point, I had no relationship with Poh Poh, and not much of one there after.

Again, language barriers did not help. I with my broken Cantonese could barely string together a sentence and she could hardly speak a word of English. But language was not the sole barrier. She treated my brothers and I like someone else’s…

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Moving on.

Hello, world!

To answer an obvious question, yes, I’m alive. Not only alive, but rolling B-)

It’s been many, many months since A Million Reflections saw my pretty face and I’ve gone from active to not active to pretty much non-existent.

Yet here I am. Where was I, what brings me back?

Good question.

It’s a little difficult to put the whirlwind events from July 2012 through April 2013 into a few words, but I’ll try to do emotions and experiences justice and give it my best shot. Here goes.

To start us off, let history do the talking:

And if you’re tut-tutting under your breath after reading the date, I’m truly sorry. This blog post should have been published ages ago. But I’ve been avoiding it for a reason.

Life’s flung me far in these few months. In the literal sense, I’ve been ‘flung’ from Abu Dhabi to Karachi to Riyadh, but metaphorically? I’ve moved emotional mountains, swam nostalgic oceans, trekked through the treacherously dark forests of the unknown.

It’s been painful. Scary. Bitter. Enduring nearly 3 months in Karachi was the worst part — a sad case of a non-citizen life-long UAE resident awaiting paperwork for a country she didn’t want to move to. And, Saudi Arabia being Saudi Arabia, the process that was supposedly two weeks long took more than a month. A month too many in Karachi.

Don’t get me wrong, I love the place. [and you should know if you’ve read any of my previous posts! ;)] But home is home. And I could only live as an alien to Pakistani culture for so long.

But with hardship comes ease. And oftentimes they come together.

In this case, what didn’t kill me certainly did make me stronger. Those weeks in Karachi taught me more than I’ve learnt in years. Patience. Perseverance. Gratefulness. Humility. Respect for people from all walks of life. Coming out of my comfort zone. Being organized with the paperwork — believe me, I learnt that the hard way! I could go on, but the crux of what I learnt began to change me. Bit by bit. Like pieces of a puzzle slowly coming together.

After we (finally!) came to Riyadh, realizations began to dawn upon me, one by one. First and foremost, Riyadh is a pretty cool place, seriously! I feel ashamed now to judge this city against stereotypes that were merely ignorant opinions. Sure, in the Abu Dhabi vs Riyadh battle the former wins hands down (ahem!) but living here is nowhere near as bad as I expected it to be. Karachi took care of that 😉

On a more serious note, I realized just how much I needed the change. Not wanting it. Needing it. You see, being born and raised in the same old, same old made me resistant to change. And I’d no idea just how healthy it would be for me. My initial reaction was to whinge and complain about everything. I missed my bedroom of nearly ten years. I missed my friends,  feeling the hurt a tiny bit more each time I’d say goodbye to any of them. I missed knowing my way around so well I could trawl Abu Dhabi in my sleep. I missed the multiculturalism. I missed my school. I missed, missed, missed my way through my pain, realizing too late, that, by being stuck in my past, I wasn’t even giving my future half a chance. How much longer could I be stuck in a time which no longer existed?

It was time to move on.

And I’m so glad I did. Here in Riyadh, I have a new bedroom (painted purple, woop! :D). I have new friends — amazing ones too, at that. And each new hello heals the pain of an old goodbye a tiny bit. I have a new city blueprint to learn, new streets to trawl. I have a new school, and though my options may be limited, my teachers are enviably good. And wouldn’t it be a such a shame missing out on all this, had I been home in Abu Dhabi?  My missing was replaced with embracing. I learnt to adapt, and to welcome change with open arms. I learnt to loosen up, and to allow myself to be carried by the swelling of the tide.

But, mostly, I learnt to be optimistic. Every tunnel has a light at its end, every mountain has its peak. I’m not saying that your tunnel is short — it may be winding and long. But it has an end, and it is beautifully bright. I’m not saying your mountain will be an easy climb — it may be the most difficult thing you’ve ever done. But it has a peak and the view is gorgeous. 

In essence, what I’m saying is this:

My message goes out to all of you crawling you tunnels, climbing your mountains. Hang in there. Keep going. Take it from me — not only will you make it, you’ll make it as a better, stronger person. I certainly did.

As for avoiding my beloved blog, I present before you two excuses:

• I’ve been insanely busy with AS Level! I sometimes don’t have the time to breathe! Even now I’m blogging at the expense of my statistics homework  😛
• In many ways I felt that A Million Reflections was not really relevant anymore. That it’s now a part of my past, part of someone I no longer am.

Maybe this is is goodbye from me at A Million Reflections. Maybe I’ll start a new blog. Begin afresh. I don’t know. One thing is for sure, though. I’ll leave the question hanging until my AS end in June!

Keep on moving. May your journey be as rewarding as mine. ♥