Eid.

EID CELEBRATIONS AHOY & MINI FOOD PORN POST!

FOOD GLORIOUS FOOD!

UNF!!!

MELTED LOVELINESS!

1. salted caramel cups - recipe  2. pizza  3. grilled cheese

Ramadan has left us for another year which is always a sad occasion.  Did I make the most of it?  Truthfully, I’m not sure.  The beginning of Ramadan started out well enough but my resolve started to sag in the middle.  Tiredness I guess.  What I like about Ramadan is that you can just shut out the world and focus on faith and worship.  I’ve learnt new duas (prayers) and I want to take myself forward with a positive, upbeat attitude.

               

For Eid I wore my fuschia pink salwar kameez which is so bright it could be used as an alternative light source.  I cleaned myself up using my wild cherry scrub.  The scrub was good – it was strangely jam-like – it was sticky, sweet and I applied the scrub on my loofah like I was spreading jam on a piece of toast.

We visited another family for an evening Eid party.  It was fun although there weren’t any people around my age which sucked.  I ended up talking to a young girl of 10 who asked the most rude, intrusive questions I’d ever heard (‘how old are you?’ ‘What do you for a job?’ ‘Can you sew?’ etc, etc.)  I tried to bat away the questions (especially the age one because damn it that’s just plain embarrassing) but it was to no avail.  At the risk of sounding like a self-loathing Asian, why are Asians so damn nosey?  I mean, seriously, it’s just ridiculous the way some people think they have the right to know everything about you and your family even if you are visibly squirming and being evasive.  Just sod off already!!! Ugh. 

Thankfully, she left with her family early and the rest of the evening was spent in peace but my auntie (hosting the evening) noticed and said that the whole family was like that.  Apparently, the littlest daughter of 3 or 4 years old calls my auntie by her first name which is just plain rude. 

anyway, I’m just going to set that aside and let the Eid goodness wash over me. 

Eid Mubarak everyone! 

My brain is working at half-speed

As you might have noticed, Fasting in ramadan really takes away one’s appetite to blog. I’m not on my laptop as much. I’ve been listening and reading to the Qur’an on my electronic Qur’an player altho unfortunately the batteries have died. I could pick up an actual book of the Qur’an but I don’t wanna. Turning pages is for suckers! [/lazy]

I’ll have to scrounge around for some batteries.

*

I finished off ‘The Junior Officers’ Club’ which neatly coincided with a repeat showing of ‘Our War’ on BBC3 which I caught by accident while watching TV after I’d eaten my sehri. The programme showed the soldiers’ perspective of the war in Afghanistan. I thought it would be a very self-congratulatory piece (teary eyed piece to camera talking about ‘our brave boys…’) but it showed the human, everyday experience of being a soldier. They acted like the young lads they are with lots of goofing around and pranks interspersing the warfare. I don’t agree with the war but the soldiers seemed to act with integrity while on duty which gives me a little solace. All footage would have been greenlighted by the Ministry of defence first though so I’ll still take it with a pinch of salt.

Muslim readers may wonder why I’m watching TV and reading books during Ramadan. I’m actually watching less TV and doing more worship but I can’t give up the goggle box completely so I just try to be moderate (and realistic) with it.

I was sifting through all the rubbish I’ve accumulated in my drawers and found a calendar from two years ago. 2009 was my annus horribilis and I certainly don’t want any reminders of it but the calendar (made by Islamic Relief) is so beautiful I haven’t the heart to throw it away. All the pictures are from muslim countries and I remember how soothing it was to wake up and see such gorgeous pictures hanging on my door.

I took a few pics of my fave images:

Agra, India

Cairo, Egypt

Istanbul, Turkey

I think maybe I need to let go of things that have hurt me in the past and as ramadan is a time for renewed hope and renewed faith, hopefully I can move forward and cast away reminders from the past.

“And when My servants ask you, [O Muhammad], concerning Me – indeed I am near. I respond to the invocation of the supplicant when he calls upon Me. […]” (Qur’an 2:186)

My fasting is going well. I find it hard but it’s manageable. I’ve fasted every single day and feel like a champion!

My ‘five a day’ quota is taking a major hit though. Do chickpeas count?

I’m taking the desi approach to sehri: Rice and chicken curry (although today I had lasagne – go figure). Iftari is dates, samosas, chickpeas with muree (puffed rice), pakora and cake (I’m gonna be one of those greedy peeps who put on weight during ramadan, aren’t I?).

Even though I can’t eat food during the day, I've discovered the next best thing:

Body Shop products smell so good. The above are papaya body butter (smells fruity and lush), wild cherry scrub and shea body butter. I have the berry lip roll-on too but I don't wear it in case I end up ingesting it. I've never paid full price on a body butter - I've always bought discounted half price ones. The scrub was on offer and it's pretty good. If you can't afford it, the ace blogger Lipstick & Pearls has her own DIY scrub.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm just off to stick my nose in the papaya body butter.

Peace out!

Ramadan Part II - Electric Bugaloo

Okay, so I announced it was Ramadan in my last post but it was coupled with rather materialistic ramblings (I bought stuff, yay! I wasted food… yay?) and I want to redress that with a gigantic mega-post full of Ramadan goodness. So let’s get cracking.

What is Ramadan?

"Oh you who believe! Fasting is prescribed to you as it was prescribed to those before you, that you many learn piety and righteousness" (Qur'an, al-Baqarah, 2:183)

In the month of Ramadan, Muslims are required to fast everyday from dawn till dusk. Fasting means refraining from:

v Food

v Drink

v Intoxicants e.g. nicotine

v Sexual relations (ooh-err, missus… I’m sorry I can’t help it, well I can, but, you know…)

Muslims eat a meal before dawn called sehri then it’s fasting all day until sunset and the time of eating again is called ‘iftari’.

Ramadan is a time for being devoted to worship and the act of fasting brings you to a higher state of mind. It’s a time of the year for self-reflection and contemplation. How big of a jerk have I been this year and what do I need to do to stop it?

Yesterday, I was practically dying for a glass of water. I got all panicked and thought I would end up in a coma and die. I had eaten and drank my fill only half an hour before. Just how on earth are people in the Horn of Africa coping with famine? Subhanallah, we are so lucky to have the luxury to choose not to eat. I hope Allah brings relief to those suffering, ameen.

The Prophet said: He who gives food for a fasting person to break his fast, he will receive the same reward as him, except that nothing will be reduced from the fasting persons reward." [Ahmad, at-Tirmidhee, Ibn Maajah, Ibn Hibbaan, Saheeh].

It’s not just about guarding your stomach though. It’s about guarding your thoughts and your body parts too. One has to be careful not to quarrel, use curse words or lie.

Now, during ramzan, I try not to watch too much TV especially stuff to do with romance (which is hard because I am or was a Twilight fan – don’t judge me!) and I turn away from seeing two people kissing on screen cos I don’t need to see that while I’m in a state of fasting (or on any other day) buuuuuuuuuuut…

... after one day of fasting, I happened to have the TV on and was flicking through the channels. The film Alexander was on and Colin Farrell happened to catch my eye as he was eating a pomegranate. I was utterly mesmerised. My pious resolve was almost shattered. Considering Colin Farrell looked like this:

Throughout the movie, I can’t decide if it was a testament to Colin’s acting or my state of piety that I could be so entranced by him eating a friggin’ piece of fruit. Moral of the story: don’t watch TV during Ramadan. It will mess with your head.

Now, it’s all very well fasting but what does one have to look forward to as a reward for all the good deeds and hard work?

In the aftermath of 9/11, the idea of ’72 virgins in heaven’ was bandied about and it caught the public imagination. I was talking to my friend about this. As a muslim, I had never even heard this phrase before but didn’t know enough to dispute it. Thankfully, someone else did the hard work and I was so happy to find this youtube clip which explains beautifully what an Islamic version of paradise is really like and debunks the '72 virgins' myth.

Beautiful gardens with rivers which flow beneath. Sounds rather heavenly to me.

photo - optical illusion

Ramadan Mubarak!

To tell you the truth, Ramadan has snuck up on me because I’ve been putting off even contemplating it. I know, I know, bad muslimah! My imaan (faith) is thoroughly worn out and my spiritual batteries need re-charging so I’m hoping I can turn things around this month, Inshallah.

I’ll quickly tell you about my weekend seeing as I never relate my ‘real’ life events. I met up with a friend of mine in Birmingham city centre. We went clothes shopping and visited the Forever21 store. It’s a pleasantly airy store and we weren’t being jostled between the clothes rails which was a nice change from the usual shopping experience.

The biggest surprise came from Topshop. I haven’t bought any of their stuff since the last millennia when I last fit into their clothes. However, when browsing I spied the most beautiful, burgundy, long flowing skirt. I couldn’t believe my eyes. A modest and appropriate piece of clothing? From Topshop? Some mistake surely! I nabbed it and tried it on expecting to be let down. I wasn’t.

I immediately bought it and spent the rest of the day in a state of buyer’s euphoria.

The best thing of all? It was a size 12. yeeeeeeaaaaaaaaah. I heartily recommend any muslimahs to run down to their nearest store and snap it up. The pic doesn't do it justice.

Also, the shopping bag:

... is Slytherin House inspired madness. Amazing.

We ate at Café Soya, a Vietnamese restaurant, for lunch. I ordered a main course meal of papaya vermicelli. A huge plate with a mountain of food the size of Everest arrived and I only managed to eat half of it after much struggling. Papaya vermicelli sweats are not pretty, y'all. I felt incredibly guilty to leave food on the plate so it’s only right that I spend a whole month starving every day as penance.

That’ll learn me.

I finally read the damn book

Dear reader, it’s the long awaited Andy Kershaw book review. Can you even bear the excitement? So, after much anticipation, what did I think about it?

I FLOVED IT.

THE END.

I’m just joshing you… of course I have more to say than that (although it does neatly sum up my feelings in a nutshell). Basically, this post is going to be me fangirling like some psychotic teenage beiber fan over a broadcaster and journalist who is two decades older than me.

So why am I mad about the Boy Kershaw?

Well, for starters, the book is beautifully written. I’ve stayed up past 1am every night since I got this book because I’ve been so hooked on it. From birth Andy was intelligent and inquisitive about the world. He learned about space and flights to the moon and studied up on the JFK assassination – by the age of eight. He wrote pieces and took photos for motorbike racing magazines and was offered a job as a journalist before he had even left for university (and oh, how I envy him for that - R.I.P teenage dreams of being a journalist).

Andy’s passion and enthusiasm leaps off the page. Whether it’s music, motorbikes, travel or women – he embraces it fully and lives very much in the moment of joy (sometimes to his detriment). It’s obvious from the book that Andy is a lot of fun to be around. What he chalks up to as luck I would say is his fizzing energy and charisma. As someone who is so shy that my personality is in constant danger of folding in on itself, I love being around big ‘characters’ and Andy is a wonderful shining planet drawing all objects around him into his orbit.

It’s also clear that the guy was a hottie in his youth.

Hubba hubba, it's hipster Andy.

Yes, it’s a shallow thing to note but I wouldn't be human if I didn’t pay attention to these things (mullet notwithstanding).

He rightly calls out Bob Geldof for not including African artists on the Live Aid/Live8 bill. He describes the shambolic nature of presenting live aid which includes this highlight here of Andy interviewing Sting, Phil Collins and Howard Jones.

He’s incredibly funny. That’s a FACT.

I love a good celebrity anecdote and the book is chock full of them. Yaaaay! He’s met a huge amount of incredibly famous people and the encounters he describes are fascinating. Some celebrities also find Andy fascinating such as Little Richard who lustfully chases a young, handsome Andy around a radio studio!

I was cheering Andy on and rooting for him all the way.  I was a huge Radio 1 fan so I loved peeking behind the curtain and reading up on the 'behind the scenes' tales Andy recalls.  I didn't know about his friendship with John Peel and the working relationship they had so reading about it was really interesting.  Andy manages to pay homage to Peel while also stripping away the mythology that has built up around him.

Andy writes with great affection about John Walters, his mentor and producer, who kept things running Room 318 and who acted as saviour when malign influences conspired to close Andy or John down.  You get a keen sense of loss when John Walters passes away leaving Andy bereft of his mentor and friend. 

The book keeps building and building like waves crashing over bigger waves until the chapter on his breakdown where Andy's life takes a giant swerve towards imminent disaster. Thankfully, Andy pulls his life back together and I admire him deeply for that.  I found Andy's rides through his ups and downs to be truly inspirational.  His thoughts and memories have been sloshing around in my brain for a few days now.  I found myself becoming attached to all of Andy’s friends (whatever happened to Anna Jenkins? Poor love) who shared in his adventures and who he obviously holds in great affection.  I feel like I've lived his life in a vicarious way. 

Is there any chance Andy googles himself? Cos I wanna point at my blog and go:

LOOK AT MEH! I WUVS YOU

Actually, it’s probably better he doesn't see this – I’d scare the crap out of him.

In summation, his book is pure amazingness and you should all read it now.

current affairs keeps getting currenter and I can't keep up

I’ve already noted twice already that I can’t do current events blogging and yet I keep going back to the well because I can’t help myself. But I need to face facts. I can’t keep up with the news because stuff KEEPS happening.

News is still unravelling on the Oslo killings therefore rendering my meagre one post obselete. Or at least it needs further commentary because I can't just leave it at one post can I? It seems sloppy and lazy not to follow through on the story and I feel the need to be on top of it so I can get the last word in.

I'm just going to have to surrender to the fact that I'm crap at news blogging.

I'd much prefer to leave commentary to writers who are vastly more skilled at this than I am like the awesome Charlie Brooker whose Oslo article is a welcome read.

As for the terrorist himself… well, turns out he was fond of websites by the abhorrent Pamela Gellar and made contact in the UK with the English Defence League. Perhaps we could start to properly condemn these groups and organisations as dangerous and extremist, and deny them a media platform for their anti-muslim hate speech rhetoric? Just a thought.

And that is all I have to say on that.

In other news, guess what came in the post on the weekend?

Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!

I abandoned my library copy of ‘the junior officers’ reading club’ pretty sharpish (and I was glad too - the soldier jargon was wearying) and I’ve been immersed in the Boy Kershaw’s world ever since.

And it is sooooooooooo effin good. I’m possibly considering writing a fan letter full of embarrassing fangirl praise – it’s that good. Will blog about it when I’m done.

Until then it’s cheerio from me.

Oslo

I’ve already said before that I’m no great shakes at blogging about current affairs but I feel I must address the Oslo tragedy. Yesterday when I watched the news, I only saw the bombed buildings with a fatalities tally of two. Today, I switch on the news and I see that there was a shooting at a youth camp driving up the total body count to 91 (so far - if you were to add up the bombing and shootings total). It’s completely horrific and my heart sincerely goes out to the victims and people of Norway.

Although I must admit when I saw the first pictures of the shattered building fronts and fallen debris, there was a tiny voice in my mind saying ‘please don’t let it be Muslim terrorists, please don’t let it be Muslim terrorists…’ I’ve had enough self-detonating lunatics dragging my religion through the mud and the weary sense of dread of whatever islamophobic backlash that may be coming my way. I can only wait for the dust to settle and people’s anger to die down for me to return back to a life without fear of reprisal.

It’s inevitable that everyone’s fingers were pointed at Islamist terrorists (and I can’t really blame anyone for doing so) and the speculation began in earnest on the news channels and the internet but it turns out, ‘fundamentalist anti-Muslim Christians’ are the suspects. The tiny voice in the back of my mind is sighing with relief. Totally selfish I know but when global events directly affect your day-to-day life you take a different view on things. I don't want to sound like a dispassionate bitch though and I comprehend that my feelings are molecular in size compared to the grief and sadness of people affected by these atrocities.

‘Christianity’ is trending on twitter and with it the sentiment of ‘ban all religion’. Christians must now defend their faith from the twisted ideologies of extreme far right perpetrators although I get the feeling they will be able to distance themselves more clearly than us Muslims have been able to from our demented counterparts. I’m curious to see how this will be represented in the media. Meanwhile, from the rubble and ruins, a country shaken to the core must rebuild their lives.

It’s not fair, is it?