I never want to be a man!

If ever was a time that I wanted to be a man, I regret it now more than ever. I am a woman and darn proud of it. I will never, ever, ever even want men and women to be equal because they simply can never be equal to one another. Women will always be at the heavy end of the scale because hey, we are awesome like that.

Women fulfill all expectations of them, being better students than most guys, more meticulous at professions, more ambitious as artists, more creative, emotional, and expressive. Needless to say, we are malleable enough to adjust in any frame that time and life wants us to be in.

A woman should never be challenged for any task because not only will she then fulfill that task, but she will out do herself so as to slap her challenger in the face. She will take it to heart and never forget, becoming stronger emotionally and better practically at the challenged task.

I was always a straight A student-studies and reading books was at one point in time the only things I was good at. I hated the kitchen like many normal teenage girls my age, and wasn't even that interested in fashion or interior decoration, or anything else remotely girlish. When I finally completed Bachelors, I started working immediately afterwards, not having any time for anything else. Sleeping and lazing around were my two favorite weekend pastimes then, like any normal working twenty something old individual.

When I got married, then too my life revolved around work, and MBA classes. Nothing in my life so far gave me time or motivation to start loving the kitchen and household chores. I mean seriously, no one loves chores. You have to be abnormal if you do. But unfortunately like all other social stigmas this one falls in women's laps too. If you are married and don't know how to cook, clean, and be excellent at everything that typically a maid does, then oh my GAWD! You must be the worst woman ever, because this is why Allah Taala Created you from Adam's rib right? How will you ever face your angels in the grave when the first question they will ask will be about how many dishes did you excel at cooking, and how many dawats did you have when you were alive? And the second and third questions will be how good were you at using the vacuum cleaner, and third, how good at juggling kids and chores?

Never mind your class GPA, your academic excellence, the amount of time and money your parents spent on you their entire life to be well educated and sophisticated. Nevermind your passions, desires, and aspirations; your opinions, comments, and persona. If you fail at being a cook, and housekeeper, you fail at life. Because that's what Islam also teaches about women too right?

Hazrat Aisha RA is the most prominent narrator of Ahadith. If it wasn't for her, half the men wouldn't even know their rights as husbands. Hazrat Khadija RA was the most loved of our beloved Prophet PBUH's wife. She did not just cook and clean for him, she supported him emotionally and financially when not one single person did. Hazrat Fatima RA was not just a housewife. She was the first Muslim female scholar who raised Allah's lions with her intellect and character. Razia Sultana was such a fiery soldier, men would pee their pants fighting her. The subcontinent would miss on a great heritage if it wasn't for her. Lady Diana was the most proactive peace activist of her time. I don't recall a man being the first human being shaking hands with an AIDS patient. And history is full of "women" who are strong in whatever walk of life they choose.

Who ever heard of guys leaving their parents, siblings, and homes and moving in with an entire family of strangers after marriage? How many guys take this life altering action everyday? It is only women who have the patience and stamina to do so, to live in an alien environment, endure all sorts of people, and still manage to smile at the end of the day. It is only women who undergo change in every darn cell of their bodies while hosting another life for nine months, and enduring the pain thrice the time of all bones breaking in a human body while giving birth yet forgetting it all by the first glance of their beautiful babies. Only us who can operate on no sleep, no rest, and still look socially acceptable; feel like crap but still show up responsibly.

So yes, I am proud to be a woman because now I know my true potential, and I will let no one else make me feel inferior anymore. We women rock and if anyone tells us otherwise we can always slam them wrong.

I love you...

No, not really. This piece is about love though. You'll get it if you decide to keep reading.

I have a four month old who I love telling that, "I love you" even though he doesn't understand one bit of it. He doesn't even know what love is so far. Then I wonder why do we stop telling people we love them especially when they understand fully what it means and how much it means to them.

I have also noticed that no matter what culture, religion, or social background we belong to, generally people stop saying these three words and start expecting actions to express them instead. I don't think this is wrong but then it is also equally important to say these three words. Why else would every movie, drama, advertisement, and other forms of media climax at someone saying these three words with a whole orchestra playing in the background? Well, yes because sometimes they ARE the climax of someone's life. And no I don't think only women yearn to hear them. Men yearn for these too but being men they are sometimes too stuck up, or oblivious of this need. Some people are too egoistic to admit that they want their loved ones to pamper them with these three magical words. Some are too shy, some say its too cheesy, some too critical, and some just convince themselves that they are stoic, with no hearts and emotions.

We are all human beings. We are made of two major components, flesh and soul. We feed the flesh everyday with the best of available food then why neglect the soul? The best food for our souls is love. Yes, we have relationships which everybody knows operate on love as the major component, but we do need to wrap that love occasionally in these three words and give it to the other person only because this gesture, as simple as it is, will make them happier than if we gifted them a very expensive gift, or wrote an entire book of praises for them.

When we are young our parents keep telling us they love us. Then we grow up and become spiteful of their love, thinking it is blocking our space and independence, not realizing that somewhere down the road this exchange of words transitions from their end to ours. When we are old enough to understand love we should be the ones telling them over and over we love them, just because they exist, because they did the same to us.

And the same goes for our siblings. People we grew up with. People who know us better than any friend or spouse or sometimes even our parents. Who have seen us at our best and more importantly at our worst. Who have entirely different perspectives on life than we do and will never agree to ours. But despite all this we love them because God Made this love natural in us. I wonder why was it important to make siblings, why not just have friends and spouses and be it? Because siblings are the mirror that show us our childhood and why we love it. Everyone has a different childhood and the memories from it are usually the most prized ones that we ever have, something we will not exchange even if someone gave us a billion dollars. Then why not tell the most important part of these memories how much they mean to us? And why not often?

And the same goes for our spouses. When we first fall in love, these three words sound like honey, magic, and all that jazz from our future husband or wife. But as time passes these words fall in the background and other "more important" things occupy our priorities. Owning a house, getting a better job, buying more things for the house, children, their clothes, their schools, and every other little and big material thing becomes so much more important that even though you sleep and wake up next to the other person every day you still do not have 15 seconds to tell them you love them.

And yes, the same goes for friends, and teachers, and mentors, and all other good people in life. In fact, it also goes for all bad people in our lives. People we think are bad because they don't love us for us, and because someone did not tell them they were loved, so they ended up being sulky, and rotten, and bitter. Its never too late to help them by saying these words sometimes even if we don't mean them.

So, with this in mind, I just want to end on the note that today, let's just genuinely tell someone that we love them because there is no guarantee we or they will be there tomorrow to say or hear it.

Thought of the day

I have decided to continue writing sporadically about things that matter to me, mostly because I feel writing is the only thing that comes naturally to me, I do not have to over exert any efforts for it. This does not mean I think I am an exceptional writer and will be some hotshot author someday. It just means I want to go back to being an open book because it is so much more easier to be that than to bottle up thoughts and emotions that burst out in the most oddly negative ways later on.

I have always been a keen observer of people and their behaviors. I really miss my days of studying Psychology because it was one of those passions of mine that I lost to the lust of worldly aspirations. I stopped pursuing it because I did not want to end up in a dark office listening to people's sad stories because I myself had numerous problems of my own and did not know how to deal with them. I though since I am unable to help myself, I will surely be unable to help someone else. I now think I was wrong in thinking that. I am learning now that helping others helps ourselves. Even if I dedicate half an hour listening to someone talk about their problems, it makes a great difference to them, especially if the person telling the problems is a female. Us females have a deep and innate need to be heard because we think too much, most of which is unnecessary as it is, but we cannot stop because we are programmed to think unnecessarily and then let it out. If we mess with this natural order we end up in disorder ourselves and most of the times it starts showing on our faces or body language. Even the best of actresses will have trouble trying to hide her real self.

So why does this matter to me today? Because I am noticing sudden and rapid changes in my life, along with the realization that the life I dreamt about as a young girl is nowhere near to reality. That does not mean I am not content and happy with the real life. It just means that sometimes it takes me a little bit longer to adjust in the frame of reality and stop comparing it to the frame in my head. I like to think this is normal for us women too because then it makes it easier to accept reality. It is also one of the reasons I am writing-to organize my own thought process and start synergizing practicality, reality, and thoughts. I do not want to stop dreaming, but I have learnt to see dreams that are nearer to reality and easier to materialize.

Some might call it that we eventually give up on our dreams and settle and find an escape so we do not have to worry about what we do not have, and try to feel false contentment. I call it trying to reach spiritual nirvana. Fortunes are material but feeling fortunate is not. A world class vacation will make me feel rich and important, but I will only feel fortunate when I am surrounded by loved ones and see my reflection in their eyes.

I am a daughter...

It amazes me that in a time and age when maturity hits people at a very early age, it still takes a lot of time and experience to understand some things in life. The cliched dialogue of every parent that, "you won't understand this until you become a parent yourself" is proving to be a hundred and ten percent true as life keeps unfolding, and at every next step of this life I find myself looking behind at my mom and dad, smiling and waving at me, the look in their eyes telling me that I was their pride and joy, and will continue to be so...that they hate to let me go in the vicious waves of destiny...that they still want to protect me in their feathers, and I can turn back whenever I want, hide, and stay warm till all of life's storms pass by and the sun shines again. But the law of nature does not let this happen. No matter how much I resist my growing age, and the circumstances surrounding me, I have no choice but to be an adult and stand in the face of these storms with nothing shielding me, no one as my aide but my own intuition, judgement, and inexperienced self.

I now realize that my first role in this world will always be as a daughter. I was born to my parents as the apple of their eye, as their little doll, and they loved me for who I was, with all my imperfections. It is a simple thing to say but if one realizes the depth of these words, it is any daughter's reality. I am a daughter first, and then a sister, wife, mother. Maybe that is why I still have moments of wanting to hide in my dad's arms, or lie in my mom's lap, just the thought of it makes my tribulations seem so much trivial.

Life is moving on too quickly, and I have already almost lost my dad to it. How I wish we had more time to spend with each other! The way he protected me, he was my knight in shining armor. His laughter, his jokes, even our serious discussions, I miss everything about him. I am glad he gave me the strength he carried, of being happy even during down time, and holding on to spirituality to prevent getting lost in the quicksand of trials. I miss him, and I pray that even if he forgets everything, he would still remember that I am his princess, the love of his life, his only daughter who is now so lonely without his presence.

And now to mention my mom...I lack words to express what she means to me except that she is the greatest treasure in my life. Pride and joy are the only words I feel strongly when I think about her because she is exactly that. Her strength is what makes each day a little less harsher...her smile makes every day a bit more radiant. I always joked with my dad that he being so tall, how did he find my mom in a busy crowd because she is so short in height. But her height is no measure to the vastness of her soul. She is an ocean of unlimited and unconditional love, warmth, and strength that Allah Taala packaged neatly in such a small stature. I pray to have even half of her strength and grace only so I can live up to her name.

Yes, life has been the worst of all teachers, and I have tried to be an A grader even though I fail miserably at times, but my two cheatsheets aka my parents are the reason I am still taking this exam, because everyday now makes me realize I am a daughter first, and everything else comes next.