More Digital, Less Human

I just watched Denial and I must say what a brilliant watch. Some movies just bring out true emotions from deep within, and this is one such piece. 

I have fond memories of my Naani (maternal grandmother) cooking Mutton qorma (mutton curry cooked in traditional spices), matar pulaao (rice with peas), a certain brown coloured sooji halwa (semolina sweetmeat) with lots of raisins and a heap of yogurt on top of it. Then my Naana (maternal grandfather) would bring sweetmeats and fresh fruits, and Naani would bring out all the food and stuff on to the jaa-e-namaz (prayer mat). Naana would light an incense stick and will pray and blow on all this food. And we would patiently wait for all this to finish in our new clothes, so we would get to eat it while some would be sent to the neighbours. This to them was Arfa which was celebrated a night before Shab e Baraat or Mid Shabaan.

Then I saw my mother doing the same in my home. It was until about some years back, when one day my youngest brother walked in and told my mother it is not right to do this. Ammi did not understand the reason or logic behind, but she could not say no to her dearest son and thus stopped doing it. When I read about it and in detail, I too found it to be more a traditional ritual than a religious practice. But that is my opinion, my thoughts and my belief. You or anyone does NOT have to agree to it.

Let me get back to watching Denial. Great movie, strong plot and most of all an emotional debate. Although I wonder what kind of people might want to go against the facts and deny a historic event that changed the course of modern history around the world.

My phone kept ringing its typical Whatsapp synonymous tin tin tin, which I as usual ignored. Thanks to the high tech world of smart phone apps, people who hardly know me or are mere acquaintance now have the privilege to call me in the wee hours of the day, their day or to text me endlessly, without giving the slightest thought to the idea that I might be sleeping, or busy in work or just do not wish to talk.

Anyway, when I did checked those texts, on all the different groups, and individual chats, I had about 40 apology letters to sign. Or see. Or to just ignore. Random people who I might have known just by a couple references in between, just hit a forward all button, without going through the content of the message and there it goes. 

I mean I am all for the digital and technological stuff. As a matter of fact, I belong to the generation who took the leap from paper Eid cards to digital greeting messages. But you(All who sent those texts to me or to anyone else perhaps) seriously think just sending forwarded messages makes someone forgive you like that? Lets assume, for a minute, that I was actually upset; why would you wait to say sorry and ask for forgiveness? Some forwarded messages I got today and last night even had the names of the actual senders.

Words are very important. Very important. Use them wisely. Do not make your words so worthless that when you actually want to talk, you find no one. I do not mean to undermine any true effort, any one actually made. I am just trying to draw a line between empty worthless forwarded junk and real words with feelings. Bombarding random people with apology letters would not help, actually reaching out to those you hurt would! But then did I not delete her number since she been bitchy-Right? Right!

Finally a quote of my choice from Denial “Freedom of speech means you can say whatever you want. What you can’t do is lie and expect not to be held accountable for it.”

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Present-Surprise Sugar Cookies

Since birth I have a little issue, a teeny tiny bug that always reined me towards the paths less travelled. I always found different things better. The price tag(read obstacles, hardships) was not the matter, never was. It was always the worth of that different thing for me that made me steer into that direction, regardless of the opposing forces.

Okay enough bragging Amber… 

This Ramadan had been a very very busy one, thanks to my 18 month old little labbittt who has this unending, never tiring, not to mention unnerving energy to keep the chores coming in for me. I still managed to do doe crafts and test my skills.

Every year for Eid I try to offer my cake-shop customers something new, something unique, something different. It works for me both ways. One that my customers are happy to find goodies that are otherwise rare or entirely unavailable at other places. Second, I make extra batches and keep them for family and friends so they enjoy a different treat every time. And above all, I get to hear “My mom is the bestest baker with the bestest idea” and trust me nothing beats that!

So while I was on my mission to explore, create or remake something different, I sought help from Google Mamoo(Mom’s brother) As always Mamoo Jan did not disappoint me and brought me a horde of different images and recipes. But I was still looking for something different, yet easy because my baby-yes that says it all.

I had time constraint, plus the energy constraint as the hot summer fasts were about 17-18 hours long and for a person like me who misses about 70% of the sehris, it was a difficult task when mixed with other chores.

And then I struck gold. While I was going through the same colourfully designed cookies that are hours of back breaking labor and delicate crafting, I came across this amazing love-at-first-sight treasure box kind of cookies. The ones that are sure to spark excitement as they slide those little basked lids and smiles when they actually reach those candies tucked inside! Its a win!

You know Eid for Muslims is like Christmas for Christians. Damn I sound such mommy-like.Well, living in a foreign land, it sometimes gets really difficult for parents like myself to keep our children focused. They see all these glamorous and sparkling festivals like Easter and Halloween and Christmas-thanks to the Corporate cycle though. And we tell them, we celebrate Eid. Okay what is Eid Mamma? Oh that boring day back home where you spend the entire Chaand raat either getting Mehndi(Henna) done or just having fun on the streets, and then you offer Salah in the morning and then hit the sack for the entire day. Then wake up in the evening and go see some relatives or eat out etc?

Nay!!

We got to make sure that our Eid here is as sparkly and shiny as our neighbours Christmas or Halloween is. To tell them little minds that ours is a beautiful religion and it gives us all the more chance to celebrate all the beautiful festivals just like any other religion.

So we here, thousands of kilometres away from our roots, try to make every possible effort to make their faith strong and their identity positive, while still maintaining their innocence and happiness. Since I always tell them that Eid is like our Christmas, hence the presence of all the shiny wrapped presents and if not then something that is close. Which is why the thought of these baked beauties just made my day!IMG_6555

I replaced Skittles from the original recipe with jelly beans. I also had the chance of a life time to research Twizzlers. And boy am I happy. The Pull n’ Peel Cherry flavoured Twizzlers are to only OU Kosher, but are also approved as vegan edible candy.

I got small braided baskets from Dollarama and lined those with gold coloured paper. I placed the cookies inside and left it uncovered so when the baskets were handed over, the kids were actually jumping to explore whats wrapped inside the treasure boxes. Unfortunately I could not get proper pictures of the finished baskets but just this random one from my iPhone that I took to send to hubby and even that I forgot to send to him.

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Recipe adopted with thanks from Erica’s Sweet Tooth 

[yumprint-recipe id=’1′] 

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15 relatives we all love /hate

Well yes I was born in a Desi household, amidst hordes of relatives. We lived in a joint family system. My mother had 9 siblings and my father had 10- Yes I know but they say they did not have TV in those times, hence no other entertainment- If you know what I mean!

Only my uncle and paternal grandparents lived with us, but then there was a never ending party at home and everyone was kind of always present. So my childhood and tween years introduced me to many different versions of aunts and uncles and cousins. And then of course the extended families that spice up the scenario further.

Most in my list are not so positive characters but then that is my personal opinion and my list. Yours might be different and better or worse-who knows!

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1- Always-there-for you sister:

If there is one blessing in form of a blood relation, after mother, it definitely has to be a sister. I am the eldest of the ONLY four children of my parents. My sister even though younger, is the smarter and calm one, while I have always been the emotional and impulsive one. Matters of heart, love or anything else, she is my one stop solution. We have our fair share of arguments and quarrels but then what is a relationship without that? Ive personally witnessed women, paternal and maternal aunts, my cousins who would not hesitate to suck the better life out of a sister of theirs; who would selfishly leave the weak one on a side and carry on with the ones that suit their lives. I guess it is because of what they learn from their mothers, and i know what I did from mine.

2-Annoying Brother:

Aren’t they always annoying? Lets move on.

3- The Always-Behind-Your-Back Cousin:

Yes? The same one you thought of. Who would always wear the exact or almost exact replica of what you wore in the last party and with amicable resistance, express how our outfits are so similar. Or who would write their profiles with exactly same details as yours and when you inquire when did you go to this school or bought this cell phone or learnt to drive or had this love-affair, they would remind you that you are jealous of them and that they been on this stuff for ages!

4-The Know-It-All Cousin:

So there are so many different varieties of them. All sizes and packages. This is the one who writes “tat” for “that”, “ov” for “of” and “thankew” for “thank you”. You dare to correct them and they dish out their envy and ignorance upon you, labelling you jealous. You talk to them in Urdu and they respond in English(their version of it of course) They also prefer to ignore all the fame and fortune that comes your way because acknowledgement of it would only make them lesser of a person that is beyond their tolerance. Pretentious much? I so want to laugh!

5-The Materialistic Cousin:

“Oh I love that lipstick-can I have it?” “When you are done with this dress, its gonna be mine okay?” “Oh this stand needs to be wiped before I put these things here-” You turn around and they are gone. Exactly that type!

6-The Absolutely Fascinated Cousin:

If it was possible, they’d make an idol of you and start worshipping it. This type sees only the good in you, beyond good rather. You’re a role model for them and they just want to be you.

7-The Secretive Cousin:

She pretends she is your best friend; then one day you find out its her second child’s first birthday and you’re like what?

8- The Mirror-Image Aunt:

Of course she is an aunt so she can not copy your dress or shoes or jewellery so she tries to make up for it for all the rest of the things. What your children do, what set of glasses in your kitchen, what kind of hutch in the living room?

9- The Always-There-For-You Aunt:

She may be mean, outspoken and always angry but you get into any trouble and she is the first one to always reach. Call her what ever but this overcomes everything else.

10-The Dreaming-Of-A-Perfect-DIL Aunt:

Since you were a child, you always got special attention from her. More and better presents, love, attention, special introductions at parties-You name it. And it was only when you realized this affection was because of the eligible bachelor cousin at your Aunt’s place who was a perfect prospect for you!

11- The Crying Aunt:

No her tears are not because she is emotional. She cries because she can not bear to see your splendid new house, or glittering diamonds or fearless ride. So she cries!

12-The Always-Sick Aunt:

No its not making fun of any one who is sick. But this one has the same excuse for everything. From why she eats different(better) food than the rest of the family to why she has put on lumps of fat: the answer is always because she is sick and hence she also gets all the multivitamins-Irony!

13- The Crackhead Uncle:

“Oh uncle I got a gold-medal and an amazing job offer from Microsoft”

“Well these days it is so easy to get a gold medal. Ours were the times when one had to work hard. And what ever is Microsoft?”

14-The Free-Bit-Of-Advice Uncle:

You talk about wanting to eat an orange in front of him and he starts about the cost, advantages, disadvantages, dos and don’ts of orange. You would simply want to never even think about orange again!

15-Devil’s advocate uncle/brother:

They attend the services at the local place of worship regularly and talk about faith and belief and how to dress appropriately and how to help others so they ought to right in whatever they are doing. Guess what? They are not. Because no matter what they preach, they sure do not practice it themselves and it is obvious.

But then the one thing that my mother always used to refer to:

And fear Allah through Whom you demand, and (do not cut the relations of) womb (kinship, blood relations)

-4:1

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O Canada

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Last night as I prepared these red velvet cupcakes, the girls asked if they could watch O’Canada on YouTube. I put it on, and guess what? I got the same goosebumps; just like the ones that I always get when the national anthem of Pakistan is played. Does that mean I am Canadian now? Does that mean the new bill C-24 poses no threat to me? Does that mean my vacation travels and tax information would not be shared? Oh well, lets not talk about all that at least today. Happy Canada Day 🇨🇦

May our maple syrup gets sweeter (and pure), may our Tim Hortons gets stronger, may our poutine get richer, may our oil sands remain oilier, may our moose remain loved, may our winters grow shorter, may our summers are happier(and affordable), may our sports get some attention by the rulers and not by selling mittens, may the diversity continues to grow, may the tolerance becomes equal for every one-Amen!

 

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Because tea is love

Ammi(mother) used to say “The color of the perfect tea is golden; just like the color of the skin of almond. Any thing else is not tea!”

I can’t say how many other teachings of her I follow, but this one, I kept in the first shelf of my cabinet of her memories. And perhaps its more of a trigger for me, just like a blessing from her, that I seek refuge in.

I grew up in a typical Pakistani house hold. My mother just loved to cook for us: the best biryani I’ve had till date, the best trifles and not to forget the qeema that I still wish I could learn to cook like her.

The only thing that remained exclusive to and for her was that cup of tea!

We used to order special kind of tea leaves from some shop in the old Karachi city. And no other person, not even our maid was allowed to touch her tea. Twice a day, of which the evening one was her favorite, she would herself, put water in the pot, let it boil, then add tea leaves, sugar, and cover and let it brew for few minutes. Then she’d heat the milk separately, and pour the tea in the cup, add milk, stir and sit in the corner and sip and enjoy her little magic potion.

And yes- we, as children, were not allowed to have tea. So until about 9th or 10th grade, tea was not much of a thing for me.

As I grew up, I learnt how to cook. I am a foodie myself, so didn’t take much of an effort. Yet for some reason, I could not get the tea right. By this time, I was also occasionally honored to make tea for Ammi. Too strong, too light, too meh. So after every attempt, I would tell myself not to try it again.

My college days were where I actually started liking tea. When preparing for exams, studying late night, I would ask her to make me tea and she would gladly make two, and bring to me, at which time, both of us would kind of have a break and sit and sip together.

That was the time when I used to think one can’t fall asleep after having a cup of tea. My mamoo(maternal uncle) would always have tea right before hitting the sack and I would think how on earth? Of course now I only laugh at the thought of this thought as now my day ends with a hot cuppa tea, just flipping channels in my corner of the house.

It wasn’t really until I started working that I started having tea. There were meetings, workshops, seminars and being a Pakistani tradition, tea was always part of these.

When I’d come back from work, or on a weekend, some times my sister would make tea, and I still remember Ammi saying “It does not taste like tea-its tastes like dirty socks!”

Good old days….

Dubai was when and where I actually discovered or say rediscovered my love for tea. I would watch people enjoying this weird mixture of water, sugar and flavored evaporated milk, with a hint of tea leaves in the name of tea. Nightmare!

I even witnessed one part water, three parts of milk and sugar, with a teabag floating somewhere in that liquid, being called tea.

Tastes can vary and every one has the right to enjoy what ever they like. But calling alien mixtures tea is injustice and for the love of tea I just can not bear it.

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Image courtesy :SaeenKaPage

I know there are so many different variations of tea even in that one part of the world from where I come- some like tea with milk/cream, some just black, some with no sugar while some with sugar and some like my brother too much sugar or say tea in sugar. Then there is this famous Pathan ki chai which is usually found in a small shabby roadside cafe, very strong and brewed for hours. And as so many go by the trend only, so the Masala chai is also ‘IN’ these days, wherein a lot of different spices such as cardamom, cinnamon, cloves etc are added to the tea.

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Image Courtesy: @FurSid

But like someone once told me in Colombo, Sri Lanka, until you brew the fragrant tea leaves in water and let it stand few minutes, how can you call it tea?

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My household, the first utensil I bought was a proper steam kettle. it makes that sound like a steam engine when ready, and its shiny and I love it just like a little girl loves her doll!

Most likely it is because of my mother’s love for tea, or because the man in my life also loves tea and so it is double the bond or may be it is just my own liking.

Of course its not the same every where I go, so when out I prefer coffee because my tea tantrums are not tolerable for and by most. Even when sick or bed ridden, the only thing I do not and would not compromise for is my cup of tea.

And I believe so I say “The color of the perfect tea is golden; just like the color of the skin of almond. Any thing else is not tea!”

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TO IMPOSE OR TO ABSORB?

I’ve been trying to stay focused, but certain things are determined at the time of our birth, in our genes and being bound is certainly not in mine. Have always been a rebel by nature; curiosity killing the heck out of me, so while certain things remain my forte(Or so I like to think) I still want to poke my nose or my leg in to everything that comes my way!

So coming back, visiting a relative over the weekend, I came across an interesting debate, that I couldn’t resist to write about. My aunt very excitedly told me about her son’s admission in the Islamic school for the coming session. And while I congratulated her, over the tea, her husband very frankly expressed his side of the things. which eventually turned into an argument, and by the end of the conversation, there were practically two groups in the room; the uncle and myself, and everybody else.

Living life abroad, in the western world is a really tough one I tell you. Add to it raising kids and you are sitting on a pile of dynamite- one wrong click and poof- All will be smoke and ash.

An irony that most of the Pakistani families overseas face is looking for an identity. Interestingly, no other community faces the same situation like ours. Being the emotional ones that we are, we always look back and hardly let go.Life is like a boomerang for most. Destination number one for vacations is Pakistan. So many WHAT IFS and BUTS haunt them. Live here but never adopt life in here. Hardly eat out, social life equals to none, and the scariest of all-how to teach your family what is faith?

Still I look around myself and find people stressing on the memorization of Quranic verses, saying Bismillah (Start in the name of God) before meal and Alhamdulillah (Thank God) at the end. But its confusing for me to see these same people never teaching empathy, care, flexibility and the importance of sharing. These very same people shout, scream and even hit some one if they don’t find things their way. Who to blame?

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Born and raised in Karachi-the city of lights, in the Islamic Republic of Pakistan, I was never forced to do anything I wouldn’t want to. As the first child of the family, and then the first from the maternal side, I always enjoyed undivided love and attention. I was sent to the newly wed daughter-in-law of our neighbor at the tender age of three,  She taught me Quran and also almost all the other arts & skills that people now term as old-fashioned. Sewing, stitching, crafting, crocheting and what not. By the time I was seven and a half, not only I had finished reading the Quran, but was also a pro in all these things. The school that I attended had compulsory periods for prayers, and Quran was taught as a subject in all grades with tafseer and tajweed. So yes my knowledge of the religion was a bit more than my peers (Bragging much?)

And while I was getting to know my religion, I also participated in every other thing that came my way-science projects, school theatre, debates, quiz, drawing, painting, playing squash at the provincial level-the list is long. And yes, all the while balancing religion with ever thing else. That is how my mother raised me. Though exceptions were there, but I generally saw and observed moderate behaviors. Almost all of my childhood and the teen years were denim-clad and as a typical Pakistani girl I was always judged more for my appearance and less for what I am as a person.Yet I never saw, even for once, the fear in the eyes of my parents-one that I, very often see in the eyes of expats or immigrants living outside Pakistan.

I reached college and still I would roam around freely with the confidence and trust of my parents. I started my professional life, traveled all over the world, attended workshops, seminars; taught people, shopped, sung, dined and laughed. I had my own fair share of fancy manicures, expensive watches, branded accessories and no one raised a brow (Well they did, but not questioning my faith)

I studied in USA, spent some time in London, stayed in Dubai and then moved to Canada. And that’s when my life changed. I felt I moved closer to religion, wanted to learn more, know more. Guess it was part of the process where I was trying to find and keep my own identity in people of all races, all colors. But being religious in no way stops me from shopping or laughing or having fun. Does it?

Now if I indulge in something fancy, I am labeled spendthrift; I start humming a favorite lyric and I am being informed of my weak Iman. I buy a favorite style at Zara and people start telling me my life is a waste!

Hypocrisy thy word I’d use for such attitude. Till some time back, I would get scared with all the thoughts of ending up in hell. Then I researched. It was surprising to see people paying more attention to rituals then the actual spirit of religion. I meet families wearing hijabs and then back biting someone at the same time. I see kids, who know the prayer for stepping out of the house but can’t stand the sight of some other kid watching any other cartoon channel then what they would want to watch-thus lacking tolerance. Its not that all this happens only in Canada or Western countries for that matter, or in Pakistanis. Its just that back home we live amongst people who look like us, talk, like us and probably think like us-well not all of them but in general. Like I mentioned earlier, its more of an identity struggle that people try to adopt ways to look different or be different. Still it’s a personal choice and any individual at any time is free to adopt what suits them. But my point is does only looking like ’something’ or ’someone’ makes us that? Or should our acts, our behavior, our attitude reflect it? Should it not all be absorbed rather than being imposed?

I might be labeled ignorant, but I thank God for not being a hypocrite. As a kid I was taught my values and deep in my heart and my mind, I knew I could do anything but to cross the line and it’s the trust that don’t let people astray.  Its not about the fear of being burned in hell but the thought of not being friend with God-There is a huge difference between the two!

Patience and tolerance, empathy and love of God is what should be preached, not only to kids but to the grown ups too. Enlighten them, educate them, and then let them decide what they want out of their life. Who would want their kids to show them their Hijab-covered heads at home and  do things in the school backyard later that I don’t want to mention here or even think about. Pressure is never the solution. Not that I am a super-woman who knows everything, but yes, this is something I have observed, researched and learnt. I still am learning, every new day, every new hour.

Someone very dear & wise once told me something which I have kept in my treasure box. Quote “Give’em Roots. Then give them Wings”

The roots of being tolerant, being patient, being empathetic, being believers-being human. They will grow their own wings. Is that wrong??

Image courtesy: http://mslangleysyear11englishclass.wikispaces.com/Identity+%26+Belonging

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