Extract- Does My Head Look Big In This?

Aw. This book is really nice. Its called “Does My Head Look Big In This?” by Randa Abdel-Fattah. Its about this muslim girl in Australia, who studies at a stuck-up grammar school called McCleans. No big deal. But then, she decides to start wearing the hijab full time. The book is about all the probs she has and how she handles them. the book discusses prejudices and serious topics like this in a very…cool manner. They come up in Amal (main lead)’s daily life, and she talks about it in her own witty-wise way. She’s pretty funny and makes you think a lot without being too serious or feel like you’re being preached on how to treat muslims. Nice.

I’m fond of one particular para in the book, which could be credited for me liking the book overall:
Amal (hijab-wearing muslim girl, victim of prejudiced thoughts) and Simone (“oh-my-god-I’m-fat-because-I’m-not-stick-thin-so-I’m-horrible-inspite-of-being-damn-beautiful” girl, victim of society. Oh well, aren’t we all…)
“
Simone shrugs her shoulders. “Yeah, well, it’s probably true…sometimes I start a diet and then I open a Cosmo or a Cleo and there are these articles about pregnant superstars losing thirty kilos in two or three months and here I am struggling to lose a kilo. So I give up and demolish a Mars bar. Or I see all these model shoots of these gorgeous beach babes with their bones poking into my hand when I turn the pages and I think, what’s the point? Even if I lose ten kilos and was in my weight-height ratio, people would still consider me fat. I wish I could be anorexic. How sick is that, huh? But I don’t have the self-control to live off a lettuce leaf a day. And I’ve tried the whole bulimia thing but I can’t even throw up. I’m just pathetic! Abnormal!”
“You know what? Who cares what normal is, Simone. Let’s protest. From now on we’re anti-normal, anti-average, anti-standard. You can eat when you want to, I’ll wear what I want to, and we’ll die with a packet of chips in our hand and a tablecloth on our head.”
"

Um

My blog has had no aim or apparent…um…theme till now. Now, I’ve decided to make it into an anti-anti-muslim blog.

No, its not sudden, its just been a process.

#1 I suppose it began with my darling grandmother, aka Dadi, coming over. She stayed for a couple of days, and well, I suddenly noticed the complete absence of spiritualism or any kind of feeling of religious duty etc. etc. I also noticed the lack of…I dunno how to put it.
Well, when we were kids, we were always preached about being good and not lying, god watching us, our duties, to be nice to everyone, being polite and helpful and all the good things which make me want to puke. I sort of lost touch of all that, forgot about it. Probably because I’m not constantly reminded to be like that anymore. Whatever, she told me stories of Prophet Mohammad, reminded me to help my mother when I could, reading the Koran after the exams (I’m getting an English version, Dadi approves) etc.
My mother used to tell me all that too, but being the rebel I was (/am) I ran away from all of it, without any reason. I refused to pray, to read the Koran or listen to her. What a brat. Point is,I realize the importance of it all now.

Ok maybe not, but now I’ve started to think, Why not? I’ve been disrespecting an awesome chance I’ve been getting. I rejected it all without trying it. Its cool you know, to learn to read Arabic, know verses, to…dunno. I’m frankly curious about my own religion which I have blatantly ignored till now.


#2 Then, HT started an article series about the Godhra riots that happened years back. It plain freaks me out. Being hunted down, being killed, even worse, being raped, even worse, watching your family being killed or raped. Just because you belong to some other community. It’s usual for us all to read about killings in the papers without batting an eyelid, as it is for me. But I sort of am more terrified about this because…well, I sort of know how it feels. I used to have a few dreams about being chased by someone. I was in this block of apartments, which was completely empty. I’d keep running, then try to hide, try to bunch myself in the tiniest possible space, hold my breath. But I knew in the end he’d find me. And that wouldn’t be good.
Ok, maybe you don’t understand, but there is this horrible dread of being caught…its terrifying…
Whatever. Point is, I understand. And its unfair that some innocent people were pinpointed and killed just because they were muslim…they had to run for their lives…they lost everything they had…their own childhood friends came raiding their houses… aargh
Its plain freaky, ok? The worst thing is, it could happen one day to me too…the way things have been going downhill for us. The image of muslims is getting worse.
Also, I hate the fact that there is an image…its like we’re an object…or a certain bloc that can be categorized as something, as the Terrorists, or the Totally-Covered-Up’s, or the Oppressed-Women-One’s. No one seems to be categorizing any other community. They don’t go “oh! You’re a hindu!” with surprise if you don’t hang ganeshas around your neck, put tilaks and yell out your religion.
And fuck, is it irritating when people are surprised when they realize I’m a muslim, they all go “oh, you don’t look like one!”
What the hell is that supposed to mean? I’ve heard the comment hundreds of times now and have managed to come up with a few retorts that lets ppl know I’m pissed.
Eg: “Why? Because I don’t have horns growing on my head?” or “What am I supposed to look like?” or “Do the rest of them wear badges or what?”
Ok, that’s plain rude.

#3 Then, it was reading Randa Abdel-Hakim’s novel. It makes me admire the heroines bravery and be ashamed of my own lack of religious practice. I mean, Amal is supposed to be a girl in Australia, who prays, knows all her verses, and even wears the hijab. What kind of moron am I?
Being the brat I am, I condemned wearing the salwar-kameez, used studying as an excuse to not pray and escape from reading the Koran.
I was so,so wrong. So stupid.
No, it doesn’t mean I’ll become a fanatic. I just want to belong a bit more to my community, learn a bit more about my religion. I want to have a bit more right to defend my community against crappy stupid people who think we all are terrorists. Just a little right.
I just want to do it…for me.
What if the Final Judgment will happen? What will I do then?
I might sound like a stupid person to atheists, but…I don’t see anything wrong in learning. I want the English version of the Koran, to understand what it means, to learn Arabic again. I mean, I’d read parts of the Koran earlier, prayed, fasted…but I did that because I was told to, I did it half-heartedly.
This time… I’ll do it because I want to. And I feel happy knowing that.

P.S. Congratulations. You just witnessed a change-of-heart thing. I feel a sense of responsibility now, about being muslim, towards my community, and Allah. I don’t want to be a muslim just because I was born into my family, I want to earn it a bit. I want to be a bit more religious just because some assholes condemn people because they’re muslim, and being the snobbish brat I am, I’ll do whatever they don’t like.

P.P.S. If you hate Muslims may Allah drop a tree on your stupid head.

V-day, come and gone

Another v-day come and gone, and I’m still stuck in this rut.
I don’ have a bf, thinking of turning lesbo
Since I can’t rhyme, I better shut
Up-o.

Oh, don’t look at me like that. I CAN rhyme, but not when miserable, and when the world is intent on torturing me with events such as practicals and valentine’s days. Seriously, till last year, I didn’t give a damn, but this year, it really hits you. You wonder if you’re pathetic cause you don’t have a bf or great because you don’t have a bf for a person you don’t even like.
Blah.
Whatever.
I can hardly like a guy for more than…what? 2 days?
Me no say a word. V-day is meant for people in love.
And I don’t believe in love.
Yeah, yeah, don’t go singing the Dido number. I’m serious.
I don’t believe in love. I would put up my long explanation as to what love is supposed to be, but I’m lazy, so I’ll do it some other time. I don’t believe love exists, just… acceptance and obsession.
If you like a person and accept their flaws, inspite of their imperfectness, its acceptance.
If you like a person and don’t see their flaws, its obsession.
I suffer from obsessions every now and then, and patiently wait for them to wear off. They mostly end in a day or two. At that point, the person seems amazing, capable of anything, a glorious god. When it wears off, I usually find myself cringing at the guy I almost worshipped.
I’m blind then. Just like Romeo and Juliet and other crappy story characters are. When ppl meet and “fall in love” at first site, and say, “there was something about his/her face”, its because you fell for their looks, darling. You were obsessed. You can’t see how pathetic the person may be, just act pig-headed and do stupid stuff (like kill yourself, in Juliet’s case).
It wears off. And that’s what causes “love” marriages to break down, often giving the arranged-married-is-best ppl to be gleeful.
Acceptance is far better. You’re not obsessed, but you can live with the person, without any unpleasant surprises, and know them completely.
Yeah, you could call acceptance “love”, but then…you accept some people, but you don’t exactly want to live with them, or just be with them forever.
So, maybe you could call love a combo of acceptance and liking…but then you apparently “love” your parents too, even though you may not completely accept their flaws or like everything about them.
Yikes. I wrote a sermon, even without intending to. I’ll finish up the argument some other day.

Shutuptimenow.