The Test

Salam alaikum.

A short post. I am now going to delve into the Medical college aptitude test study with just 30 days before the big date (23rd October)! Sometimes, it sends a shiver down my spine, other times I rebuke myself for turning away from the hope of Allah's help.

I've wasted time but now I must get to the book like a true bookworm. I pray Allah helps all of us busy in the test prep. Ameen.

Ameera, you're an absolute idiot. 30 days! Allah, help!

Salam Alaikum. Good day! :)

Subhan-Allah!

Salam alaikum!

I just made a post about over an hour ago, and minutes later, I was browsing various websites where the result might be announced. Finally, I found a website where the result were being uploaded and on tenterhooks, I waited for the page to load.

Amongst the multitude of colleges on the page, I found my college and then my roll number! I got 919 out of 1100!!! Alhamdolillah! That 470 out of 550 in my first year, then 449 out of 550 this year - an aggregated result is announced! So, I moved down from 85.45% to 81.6% but an average of 83.54% ... an "A-1" grade, in our education system!

I was so happy, it's all the blessing of Allah, Hadha min fadl-e-Rabbi! Otherwise my papers weren't so good that I'd get these marks! Allah has been very, very kind to me.

This has encouraged me more than ever to spend more time for the sake of Allah. Don't you see? Allah automatically takes care of the rest!

This is the meaning of the dua, 'Rabbana aatina fit-duniya hasana fa fil aakhirati hasana wa qina azab an-naar!' - "Oh Allah, make good for my wordly life and make good for me my Hereafter!"

The purpose of life is to excell in the test of the Hereafter. In the end, that is what will matter. We must thus direct our energies to that purpose, so that everything in life achieves a balance. I might sound preachy and too optimistic, but I'm not being optimistic. I'm being realistic. The reality of this life is the reality of the Hereafter.

May Allah bless your life as He blesses mine. Salam Alaikum!

Result today!

Salam Alaikum!

Due to some minor delays, the result wasn't announced on the 15th... but the day has finally arrived. I found out yesterday that the result would be certainly announced today.

You can imagine I must be receving phone calls and SMSes since early in the morning. It is currently 10:45 am and I'm sitting online, hoping for the result to be announced on the internet. Here, the result can be accessed in severeal ways - the evening newspapers supplements, special phone-numbers, tv networks' websites, the education board office, etc.

Frankly, I am not putting much of my brain-power into the result business. To fret over it and worry about it is to not have faith in the doings of Allah. Whatever the result is, and the subsequent admission procedures, one must have complete faith that what will happen will happen for a reason. And besides, we lose our appetite over things such as these when we should really be doing so over our time in the Hereafter. Will we be among the people close to Allah? Will He forgive our wrong-doings and admit us into paradise? That is the question!

Yes, the result can get on your nerves but to give it priority over the rememberance of Allah means you're giving something more importance. So there, you see, is the great test which we are currently taking and will continue to do so until our death.

Many might not agree but, well, this is my blog! And this is what I believe in.

As soon as the result is out, I'll post it here... yes, I'm expecting a decrease but not without the glimmer of hope that Allah might improve the percentage - expect the best from Allah!

Allah Hafiz!

The Good, the Bad and the Ugly...

Before you read further, it would be better to scroll down and read the previous post as this one is a direct sequel.

In my last post, I’d left the cake in the deep freezer. Well, I woke up the following morning at 8:30 to discover the sky was hidden in a thick blanket of rain clouds! Yes, the monsoon, late again, had finally hit Karachi! The forecast in the newspapers was for about a week of wet weather.So what does this have to do with the cake? Well, my mother and I stood at our balcony and admired the layered clouds, grey and blue and black all at once, but we had yet to find out what was to happen with the fall of the first raindrop.

The ecstatic atmosphere that had overwhelmed the rain-starved city soon died off when the power supply went off in most areas of Karachi! Let me remind you, it was 8:30 am. I had to make the icing and I needed modern electricity-run appliances for that! I could only hope the power supply would be restored soon. Soon. Soon.The rain did not abate that morning so my mother and I decided to brave the squelch outside and drive to the nearest store and get icing sugar and more butter. If only everyone had listened to me and bought the things the night before!

With an impending sense of doom, we made our trip and bought what we needed. The electricity showed no signs of coming back – but there was hope. It was now 11:00 am. We then wondered if the party would be postponed to some other day perhaps? Who knew when the electricity would be back?

But my aunty was determined to go ahead with the party, hoping, like us, that everything would be normal soon. The sky thundered ominously. We decided to go ahead with the cake icing manually! Without a working electric beater, it would take quite some time and energy to beat the butter-cream up into a fluffy icing. Anyway, my mother and I started our work in the gray afternoon. Alhamdolillah, the icing was fine and we made portions out of it – pink and green for the lacing and piping, while plain white for the base coat. Smarties would do the rest.

About two hours and with several sticky hands, dirty utensils and ruptured piping bags – the cake was finally ready and yes, it looked very, very cute with all the effort gone into it. After all our worries, it turned out fantastic, Alhamdolillah! We placed it in the deep freezer which was, thankfully, still cool within. It was 1:30 pm. No electricity yet.

The party was definitely on. Like it or not, crumpled clothes and costumes or not, we had to make it. We thus got about with our costumes. I had planned to go as Hermione Granger from ‘Harry Potter’ and I was very happy with the end result. The crooked black witches’ hat, black robes, white collared shirt with maroon and yellow Gryffindor tie, the Hogwarts school crest on the robes, the black wand and the over stuffed school bag created the perfect look!

Things had started to look up for this day finally! Both my sisters were also dressed – one as a “Jewellery Box” and the other as “Punk”. The punky make-up was fun to do – my poor make-up skills were adding life to my sister’s punk look! She had a scar running down over one eye, a skull-symbol on a cheek, a bandana around her head, cool knuckle gloves (gloves with half of each finger snipped of) and a dozen other accessories to complete the look.

We left for my Uncle’s home at 5:30 pm with the cake in Hermione’s lap. Nine hours – no light yet. The next hour and half was blast, as I’d put it. As cousins continued to arrive at my uncle’s house, there was a scuttle around the door to see how they’d dressed. It was fun… we had Batman, Spiderman, Shrek, Fiona, another Punk, a French model, a princess, a cowboy, a businessman, a clown, an Indian actress, Cinderella, a pathan (Afghan) girl and three ‘60s Indian Heroines’ – these three were my cousins Saima, Meha and Anum – around the same age as I.

It was a lot of fun, even though it was really hot and sticky inside the house. A solitary Emergency light lit the dining area. Despite the problems, everybody was good humored and enjoyed everything! My Punk-sister was awarded a small gift by my Aunt for ‘Best Costume’, mainly because, I think, she looked so out-of-character and bizarre! Everyone began to leave quickly then, for it was growing unbearably hot, dark and stuffy in the apartment. It was 7:30 pm. Eleven hours – no light in sight.

We got home to find that neighboring areas were lighting up again. Our building and several others still lay draped in darkness. Then on, a flurry of emotions overtook each one of us successively. My problem is that I can’t sleep without electricity powering the fans! It’s too hot, sticky and there’s nothing to blow of the mosquitoes. We fanned ourselves with traditional fans made of bamboo but how long could that work?

Word came in that no light was expected until morning. My mother and sisters tried to sleep but couldn’t do so for long. I patrolled the apartment like a mad ghost with a candle in my hand, then read a book I had vowed never to read as it was so boring. I was mad enough to expend precious light from the Emergency light and read it. When I finished, it was 2:00 am. People from various apartments were sitting outside in the common corridors, where the breeze from ducts and large windows were pleasant. Many later went inside.

In the gloomy darkness, I once again started ranting and abusing our pot-bellied politicians who were, no doubt, enjoying air-conditioned palaces in other parts of the city. Nothing could go wrong in their world. And in the rest of the city, a simple rainfall can cause transformers to malfunction and short-circuits to paralyze all activity.

The spirit of the Karachites amazed me – they’ve adjusted to the various problems that come part of a metropolitan situated in a developing country. They go about their work, they adjust, they complain but they don’t fall apart. They don’t become melodramatic. They remain hopeful.

When I finally decided to try and go to sleep, the electricity came back on! It was 4:30 am! Twenty hours without power and we’re back to our old selves as if nothing had happened. Everything’s fine, people go back to their beds with the fans or air-conditioning on – with the difference that they vow to wake up no earlier than noon!So, that is the story of an EVENTFUL day! It might have shocked you if you live in a well-developed country but for the majority of us, this is life and we’re going to take it as it comes, may Allah be with us. Don’t pity us, because we don’t wish to pity ourselves. These are all part of a colourful life and most wouldn’t trade nations for anything. We’d love to chuck out these bloodthirsty politicians but we can’t attribute the sour moments to the land Allah has blessed us with.

(I'll post pics as soon as I can get them from my cousins - my digicam had no capacity for more pics and without electricity, I couldn't download them to my computer! :P )

Half way there... phew!

Salam alaikum!

A short while ago, I finally got to take my mind off the Birthday cake I've been making for my cousin since 3 pm. It is now 1:03 am precisely. I am covered in layers of kitchen grime and grease, my hair is sticky and my glasses could need a good scrubbing too.

Is it complete? No, sadly. I had planned to finish with the process by 12 pm, shove the cake in to the deep freezer and forget about it till 5 pm tomorrow.

I've been cracking eggs all day... 2o, in total! And separating the yolk and the white too! Besides, think of how much flour, sugar, etc. went along with those eggs! I might make it seem like an army will be present at the birthday party... well... almost an army. :)

Anyway, the reason this cake is not yet done is that when I started with the icing, I discovered that we had "castor" sugar, not "icing" sugar. Why bother going to the market and gettign another pack when you've got a working grinder in the kitchen? I ground up a lot of sugar as "home-made" icing sugar but obviously didn't get it very well refined. Anyway, a whole chunk of butter and a couple of cups of "home-made" icing sugar later, the icing was grainy - duh!

That couldn't work so sms-ed my mother to ask her to get a packet of thick cream on her home from some errand. She got my the cream and I'd just started to complain how the dairy people were cheating on us by selling thin, liquidy cream when I realized my mother had mistakenly bought a 250 ml pack of milk! Couldn't blame her, the packaging is 99.9% identical, except the part where they say "Haleeb - the thickest milk!" instead of "Haleeb - the thickest cream!" as a small sub-title!

Bleucch! Anyway, the time was 9:30 pm. Hurriedly, my mother and I drove down to the nearest market and got a pack of cream!

We then drove not only upto our apartment building but also to the realization that we should have bought icing sugar when we got the cream... anyway, too late. I was inclined to go with the 'grainy' cream but my mother decided to call it a day - put away this cream and start all ofer again in the morning!!!!

I threw a little tantrum at that... I'd been slugging at the cake since 3 pm! Anyway, she didn't budge. No way was she going out for icing sugar again. So... I gave in, put the cake skeleton into the deep freezer and now, eagerly await the morning... 9 am when my mother shall again go to the market and get a new pack of butter and good icing sugar, inshAllah.

The Clown-cake currently is just a round shape for the face, a triangular cone shape for his hat and a bow tie below the face. Enough cake for one day!

Currently, I am putting the finishing touches on my Harry Potter themed costume... I've actually decided to go as Hermione - we're both "insufferable know-it-all's", as Snape would put it.

So what was the point on this post? Introduce you to the pleasures of baking?

No, to show you how things go wrong when Ameera thinks she's planned something perfectly! I can only pray to Allah that things go smoothly tomorrow!

Allah Hafiz!

(By the way, result out on Thursday... pray for me!)

"Enlightened Moderation" explained!

Salam alaikum!

The website of the Tanzeem-i-Islami organization, founded by renowned Islamic scholar Dr. Israr Ahmed has an excellent "Articles" section, where articles on current affairs and Islamic philosophy are posted and updated. Due to my high regard for Dr. Israr Ahmed, his views, his ideologies, I often visit the website of Tanzeem-i-Islami.

Ubaidullah Jan writes regularly at this website and his articles are very informative. I was, thus, delighted to see that he updated his "Current Affairs" section with an article on the concept of "Enlightened Moderation in Islam" which Pervez Musharraf has been propounding for quite a while now.

Though I have my own criticisms and comments regarding "Enlightened Moderation", I believe Tanzeem-i-Islami presented an excellent analysis. I'm posting it here for anyone interested in Musharraf and his pro-American, anti-Islamic, opportunistic, degrading policies.

You can also see the article here.

---------------------------------------------------------

"Moderate Islam or Effective Subservience" by Ubaidullah Jan

On the opposite ends of the broad spectrum of anti-Islam views, there are two very general and deep-rooted misconceptions: one that the Holy Qur?an preaches intolerance, and the other that Islam is a religion of peace alone. Misrepresentations on the part of both Muslims and non-Muslims could go no further.
The basic principle of Islam, a faith in all the prophets of the world, is enough to give the lie to the first misconception. The Qur?an that preaches not only love and respect for the founders of the great religions of the world, but much more than that — faith in them — could not shrink down to the narrowness of intolerance for those very religions.
Zero tolerance for zulm — injustice and oppression — in Islam negates the second misconception that it is a religion of peace alone.
To demystify this pair of grand misconceptions, we need to study words and deeds of the present day self proclaimed “moderates” who are exploiting the second misconception in their favor, which indirectly leads to consolidation of the first.

Analysis of Musharraf?s approach
Musharraf?s adding “enlightened” to “moderation” gives an impression as if other opportunists are preaching some kind of inferior or benighted moderation. However, his best explanation could hardly tell the difference between the confusion which several others are spreading in the name of moderate Islam for their self-interest.[1]
According to Musharraf, the “suffering” of his “brethren in faith” at the “hands of militants, extremists, terrorists, have inspired” him to come up with “the strategy of Enlightened Moderation.” Here we must note that Musharraf: a) tries to kill two birds in one shot, i.e., to please both Muslims and the enemies of Islam; b) presents ?enlightened moderation? as a strategy not a value or a form of Islam to avoid annoying Muslims; c) confirms Islamophobes perspective that the root of the global turmoil lies with Muslims alone; d) gives legitimacy to the Islamophobes classification of Muslims and Islam e) attempts to show that Islam and secularism are compatible, and f) hides the source of his inspiration — his self interest.

This article is very long to be posted in full here. Please check it out at the link below:
Enlightened Moderation or Effective Subservience

AAAHH! Only a month left!

It hit me hard today that I have only just about five weeks left for my MCATs! I've been squandering time for the past two weeks or so, always putting the work off for 'tomorrow'.

Now, it's laughing in my face! Six course books, a million facts to memorize, formulae, life-cycles... that's two years of school work! What was I thinking?

But then again, it's always been like this with me... put it off till it's almost too late, then dive into it with a bag full of tension and try to emerge successful. Alhamdolillah, Allah always tugs my boat away from stormy water into sunshine and towards sandy shores! Thus, people find it hard to believe I have a bad, bad, bad 'procrastination' habit!

Anyway, I've assessed the damage - start studying after sunrise, all day when my sisters are at school... then, a nap after lunch - and back to the books untill evening. Biology gets the priority, then Physics and Chemistry.

Please, please, please pray that I am successful in my endeavors and please also pray for both my cousins, Anum and Saima, who're also stuck in the same big mess!

One big hurdle also left is my exam result for this last academic year... it is to be announced out on the 15th of September.....!! In our exam system, the Intermediate level comprises of two years, with annual exams at the end of each year. In my first year, I got 470 out of 550 (85%)and they'll be issuing the aggregate this year... ie. out of 1100 marks... I just hope I don't drop this year. Getting an overall 85% would really strengthen my chances... ooh, this merit system is really freaky.

Anyway, big day tomorrow, got to sleep!

Allah Hafiz!


- This is the place I wish to get admission into: www.kmdc.edu.pk (Karachi Medical and Dental College)

Another bunch o' Idiosyncracies!

Salam alaikum!

I have tried several times to write something about my own routines but somehow, even to me, it just sounds too boring. I would have to get round to that soon but I seem to put if off everyday. Maybe one day I'll wake up and "ping!" - the ability to write about myself will drop down into my brain from heaven and I'll create a new post immediately. Right now you'll have to make do with the regular stuff.

My brain these days is - very crazily - occupied with two main thoughts - or rather three.

-1- Study regularly for the MCATs (Medical College Admission Tests) so that I can get into KMDC (Karachi Medical and Dental College) to do BDS (Bachelor of Dental Surgery) and become a DENTIST ( D - E -N ... oops, sorry!) InshAllah!

-2- Think up a creative but simple costume for my cousin's second birthday party. (Yes, everbody under twenty is supposed to come in a costume - maybe that's because it's the first themed party in the history of my family).

-3- BAKE MY COUSIN'S BIRTHDAY CAKE!


You can see to which thing I have been giving most priority.

I say it's a 101% true fact that most girls will really think first of their appearance, jewellery, make-up, clothes, cooking, kids, stitching, singing, etc. etc. than anything else - yes, there are other things too! It's in the nature of a female and you can't snub her for that. Nothing wrong with having brains and beauty at the same time - *cough*Legally Blonde 2*cough*!

So, to me baking my cousin's birthday cake is very important right now. I'm a little weird in that way - I love cooking, I just love it, and to any cook or wannabe-cook, appreciation from a hungry audience is not only a 'reward' but a motivational factor to strive for more.

Last year, when I baked the cake for Anushey's (my cute little cousin, chewing on a straw in that pic) first birthday, I attempted to make Barney - that cute ... *cough*ugly*cough*... dinosaur kids seem to love so much - why!? Anyway, it turned out to be quite a fiasco with all that food colouring (purple and green!). It was much appreciated but I only thanked the multi-coloured sprinkles which, showered over the huge cake, covered up most errors in icing.

This year however, inshAllah, the design is of my own choice - unlike last year - and a lot of pre-planning is underway. The design was finalized yesterday, colour schemes will be done in the course of this week, recipes reviewed, details conformed and the cake should materialize quite well, inshAllah, on Monday, the 5th of September. In any case, I'll put up a pic.

About the costume - ah, well, because of the cake duty, I'll keep my attire as simple as possible - all I need is my black gown, a wizard's hat, a magic wand and I'm ready!! HP fanship, haha!

Okay, that's enough eccentric behavior for now! Sigh... watching the new Willy Wonka can hit your head pretty hard with "weirdo-ness"...

Going off to recover. Allah Hafiz!

Shockwaves, trills and heart-melting moments! She's done it like never before!

Right, first things first.

I'm back in Karachi, with all the mental upheavels and tantrums I had to endure alongside. I returned on Tuesday morning and two days following that, I was shrouded in gloom, despair and distress - not really because of my return, but because I FINALLY got to read Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. This itself was not the cause of gloom - but the general story and the events can get you pretty down. I don't know how far the story is true that Tom Cruise had to take an Anti-Depressant after reading HBP! :P

What can I say about the book?! It is absolutely world class and Rowling's out-done herself totally this time! As a female reader, like many others from my gender, I was gagging at "Won-Won" scenes but on the other hand, really appreciating what Harry has had to endure and what he will have to face as the story continues. What he has had to go through is terrible, what he has to forgo, the sacrifices he is now being asked to make... they've ripped out all innocence from his soul - and left a determined man to stand and face upto the dark times ahead.

Every thought and action in this book was carefully planned and worded by Rowling and the darkest of scenes were nerve-wrecking. The plot was tightly woven, with old questions being answered while giving the book something new to carry on. What's more, we finally discover how to get rid of Voldemort - and we also discover that Harry must do it alone. Muggles, or non-Harry Potter readers, will take it to be the average 'Hero' story. Haha... as if!

A new horizon of possiblities has cropped up with this latest book, new theories... and this time, these theories can be debated for years on end due to the complex nature of this installment. And, resist as I cannot, I have to mention here, to any HP fan that prob'ly one of the best part of the book was the new relationship between Harry Potter and Ron's sister, Ginny Weasley. I say this because Harry himself believes her to be his "greatest source of comfort" and "something that was making him happier than anything esle". And also, Rowling herself points out that Ginny is the only person who is Harry's "equal" in the current situation.

Every HP fan is currently reeling from the intensity of the Half-Blood Prince and when all these inital tremors subside, serious debates will take place, theories presented or crossed out, interviews bombarded on Rowling... and largscale begging for the next and last book.

I have only one word to say. If you're still a Muggle, now is the best time to catch up on the Potter series and be part of a truly magical experience!

http://the-leaky-cauldron.org
http://mugglenet.com
http://jkrowling.co.uk

I was checking my father's e-mail for him and came across one he had written to his cousin in Islamabad. It contains some very valuable and simple words, which I wish to share with everyone. Here they are:

I do not wish to take any tensions so that the sleeping and digestive mechanisms work uninterrupted. Whatever is going to happen, will happen and most certainly, unless Allah changes or diverts it graciously. My belief is that you should not hurt anyone or be a cause of constraint to anyone. We have to complete our life, of whatever length, doing as much good deeds as possible, and say good bye to this world, as peacefully as possible. You have no control on anything, apart from your actions. You neither came into this world at your own will, nor would you exit from here as such. So, there is nothing in this world which you could plan and execute for sure. You do not have the slightest idea what could happen to you in the next couple of minutes. So why worry and take tensions. Just do good deeds, take it easy, ask forgiveness from Allah and depart light heartedly, when your time comes. Whatever you leave behind, you do not have to worry about. All that will be taken care of by Allah, and in the best possible manner.

The globe had already spinning smoothly for billions of years, when you entered into this world, and will certainly keep spinning even after you have made your exit from this world, until and unless, of course, Allah causes it to spin otherwise. The sum total is, we are not in control of anything, apart from doing good deeds.

Whenever I ponder about the universe and the phenomena it consists of, the creatures of all types around us, our placing in the vast universe, the coexistence of more than six billion humans alongwith other species, clinging to this huge spherical ball, with their trillions of problems, I reach the inescapable conclusion as to how insignificant we are! Certainly Someone has put us here and certainly He is watching us every moment with a meticulous system in place, and certainly He will judge us one day. He is none else then Allah, and we should worry about that day and be prepared for that day. We might die as a prince or a pauper. Both of them will go down with nothing but a few yards of plain cloth and nothing more, except the good or the bad deeds done, very meticulously recorded in a chip placed somewhere in our body, which will be replayed on the day of judgment. Yes, when you let your imagination have a freefall the possible configurations are endless. May Allah guide us all to the right path and end our lives entrenched in firm faith.

Ameen...

'Photo-post'

This is the pic I took after performing Tawaf at mid-day. As you can see, it's really really sweltering...

I'll try to fish out more pics later.

I upgraded to IE 6.0 and finally, my basic blogger features are fully functional! I've been wanting to upload these pics taken during the Umrah for some time... the resolution is as good as it can get on my Acer digicam (2001!!).

This is just one of the entrance to the Haram at Makkah - it is called 'Bab-Abdul Aziz' (Bab in Arabic means 'gate'). I took this pic after Fajr...

A view of the same gate in the afternoon, Zuhr time... in the background, all those tall buildings are part of the 'palace' built on Mount Ajyad or 'Jebel Ajyad'. Needless to say, you can only stay there if you're Saudi Arabian royalty.

Emotional stuff...

It's official, I suppose - Ameera is going through one of her 'emotional oscillations'.

After years, I'm stumbling back to poetry (for unexplainable reasons), and here's another one I wrote. No 'degrading' myself now. :) Thanks for your wonderful support!

Our parents are probably the only ones who'll ever love us truly, wherever we are and whatever we choose to become. We all know that life's end will take them away from us but we forget. When we realize it's too late to hold their hands again, or give them a hug, even the strongest of us crumble...

------

Long is the night
I am dreaming through,
And this night breathes new life,
Into memories of you.

So long it has been
Since you left me so,
Alone in this darkening world
With so far to go.

Long is the night���
But I���m seeing you.
This night be still
So I could be with you.

The bud you held,
So tender, so soft.
That lovely touch
Has held me aloft.

Long is the night,
And I can still hear you.
Words of knowledge
That only you knew.

Pain and misery,
You took from me.
To love and joy,
You led the way.

Long is the night,
And I���m missing you.
One moment you were here,
And now I look for you.

Gone are you forever true���
Gone with you
Are those times I knew.
Still in the dark, I stumble after you.

Long is the night
I���m creeping through���
But the pearls that you left
Are still shining true���

--------

I'll try to get out of this 'phase'. :)

What happens when you...

... stay up late. This title is the only one I could think of for this rather *unexplainable* post!

I don't why I've stayed up late tonight. When I finally decided to go to sleep about an hour ago, I discovered a shoebox in a wardrobe, labelled "Ameera's things". They were old memories, scraps, sketches, etc. and I went through them.

I don't know how or why but something in that box triggered off my poetic emotions, and I started to sing broken, disjointed lyrics. When I came across a blank sketch book, I grabbed a pen and decided to create my own comic strip. What happened next was rather weird considering the follow up to it.

I drew the head of a weird chicken (like those in the movie 'Chicken Run') but suddenly, I felt like some sort of poem was forming in my head. This happens rarely with me - the last time it happened, I wrote a cool little poem... and put a password on it that I forgot. Wonderful.

Anyway, I scribbled, singling along to the nascent lyrics. The poor chicken's head was surrounded by messy handwriting. In the end, I came out with this short poem... and I haven't named it yet. I've always loved 'Stopping by woods on a snowy evening' by Robert Frost. Somehow, even if it may sound incredibly self-centered and crazy, to me my little poem follows Frost's plot-line and provides a sort of 'epilogue'.

Before you read the poem, do bear in mind that people think up weird things at night and when they sacrifice sleep, their brain cells start jumping off the cliff into the Vale of Death. Good proof here already.

Here's the peom, and being partly free-style, I doubt you'll call it one:

Lovely pie in the sky,
Makes me reach up so high...
And go for that
I had never thought
Would be so nigh.

Gazing up at the crystal sky,
And a million stars,
Twinkling back...
Why is it that we wish to be
Up there, so far?
So crazy, why?

I stand here in this chilling wind,
My feet so tired, my eyes so dim...
But something is driving me
To farther lands
And brighter fields
Where I have to be.

Pain so much I've come to know,
So lightly still I tread the snow.
So happy I let my steed go.
I hope to stop and breathe in
To find solace from that deafening din.
And still the stars beckon me in...

Tonight I cross
My final bridge...
Tonight I'm back at that silent ridge...
With flakes filling up that familiar wood,
I'm back where I thought
I never would.

-------

The only thing I can say here is that Frost's poem was so simple but the depth of its meaning cannot be fathomed completely by anyone... perhaps even himself.

I have a strong urge to degrade my poem here, to save me from harsh criticism, but perhaps someone will find meaning in those broken verses...

For the record, I like the poem... for its ambiguity.

The end of an era

There are sad and less-than-pleasant thoughts floating around inside my head these days. I believe they originated in a significant incident that took place about three days ago after dinner time, in our house ��� my father discussed with us, very openly and clearly, our plans to leave the Kingdom��� very soon. This, in itself, is not the cause of my subconscious melancholy ��� but the emotions that it triggered are wounding me still.

They say that wherever in the world you are, the link between you and your birth-place, or where you spent your childhood, does not dissipate. Tabuk was my home 24/7 from my birth up till 2000 when I moved to Pakistan but visiting intermittently ��� in the summer, and sometimes the winter, holidays ��� strengthened my emotions. Whenever we arrived in the city from Pakistan, I always felt I had come home ��� and when I returned to Pakistan, drove to our apartment, Karachi was new to me��� again.

We have lived in Tabuk in the same apartment for almost twenty years��� the walls, the doors, the furniture, the little courtyard with the Bougainvillea tree, the countless cats��� they left their marks on me and molded my personality. I grew up in this city and it, too, grew up with me��� from a small town, it developed into a sprawling metropolis and of late, much attention has been paid to encourage its development. And, when finally Tabuk has taken off as a complete city with the utility problems and other messes cleared up, we���re departing���

For any human being, some sort of cultural background coupled with a few material possessions is absolutely essential for survival. Take away a beggar���s cloak or his collecting bowl and he will be stooped in misery because those possessions enabled him to relate to life, to the living ��� they were ���standards���. To me, my life in Tabuk, represented by our humble apartment is and will always be a standard��� but there is pain, knowing that this standard will exist only in my memories after some time��� it will become a ghost of it���s former self. Now that is very destabilizing.

When my father announced his plans to pack up, and the reasons behind it, he also stated that he was the one who would miss Tabuk the most. I was wounded ��� Tabuk, my birth-land, would be a greater loss to me and I immediately said so. But he pointed out that he���d been working in Tabuk for almost 28 years now ��� shocking, isn���t it? When he came to this place, it was a small outpost and farming area��� the surrounding desert forever threatened to cut short its development into a city. But the city won and it was born before his eyes ��� yes, I admitted, he���d miss it most perhaps. And for him to pack from a place at the age of 56��� very, very destabilizing.

Every expatriate who works here is always aware that sooner or later, he or she will leave this place and go back to the ���homeland���. But the time factor is most important here��� like an aged tree, my father is strongly rooted into this soil, this lifestyle and routine. My sisters and I emerged from this very soil, soft and delicate. My mother���s married life began in Tabuk. We���re firmly rooted��� it���ll take a lot of painful and destructive pulling to take us out of this land.

But then, change is bound to happen sooner or later and it is what brings about the best qualities in people, develops in them an immune system ever ready to face new challenges. My father quotes the Quran and says,

���Kullo man alaiha faan.���
(Whatsoever is on it [the earth] will perish.)

- Ayah 26: Surah Ar-Rahman

Everything that I place so much importance in, everything that seems to me to be essential for my survival will all perish ��� except for faith in Allah ��� may it never leave my heart. This seems to be quite a bit to take down but with constant self-counseling and reminding myself about the real priorities of life, I just might do it. The insecurity I���m, afraid of today, in leaving Tabuk might be countered by hopes and aspirations for what lies ahead.

A big change will now take place in our lives, as a family. Split into two since 2000, we will now, inshAllah, be able to live together in the same house ��� a complete family ��� not separated by thousands of miles. My father will be able to witness again our daily struggles and joys, guide us, be there for us in every possible way, inshAllah. My mother will be able to return to her original duties and shed off those extra worries which come with being solely responsible for the kids ��� inshAllah.

Perhaps the Prophet (pbuh) wanted to avert these sad feelings in the Ummah when we said that we should live in this world like a traveler who sits in the shade of a tree��� he fulfils his need to rest but he also draws strength for his journey ahead��� his gaze never wavers from the road. Likewise, let this world be a source of comfort but never make it, of yourself, the reason for sorrow.

Hehe hoo hoo haha!

I was flipping through an ancient issue of Readers' Digest (Jan '96) a while ago... there's nothing else to do, it's 1 am, and we've got visitors that haven't left - yet. :)

Anyway, I came across this joke and it just cracked me up, I *had* to post it here:

1960s Arithmetic test: A logger cuts and sells a truckload of lumber for $100. His cost of production is four-fifths of that amount. What is his profit?

'70s new-math test: A logger exchanges a set (L) of lumber for a set (M) of money. The cardinality of Set L is 100. The Set C of production costs contains 20 fewer points. What is the cardinality of Set P of profits?

'80s "dumbed down" version: A logger cuts and sells a truckload of lumber for $100. His cost is $80, his profit is $20. Find and circle the number 20.

'90s version: An unenlightened logger cuts down a beautiful stand of 100 trees in order to make a $20 profit. Write an essay explaining how you feel about this as a way to make money. Topic for discussion: How did the forest birds and squirrels feel?


By the way, our guests just departed. It is 1:23 am.

Who is the Half-Blood prince?

That's what says on the boxes containing HP 6 "Harry Potter and the HAlf-Blood Prince"!

I'm going mad looking at pics of the book being packed and shipped off to... wherever! From wherever, they'll take them to those LUCKY, LUCKY, LUCKY people all over the world who've ordered!

I won't be able to get my hands on one until 7th August, when I return to Karachi... this is sooooooo difficult. I'm losing it...

Bad time to post!

(btw, if you're a HP fan, check this and go nuts:
http://www.the-leaky-cauldron.org/images/2005/07/hbpamazon1-4.html
http://www.the-leaky-cauldron.org/images/2005/07/hbpamazon1-4.html )

Passing through Madinah

I had so much fun writing the previous post, and getting two ���comments��� (!!!) that I���m starting the next one straight away. If I were to write about what I���ve done today, it would be a speech about an unsuccessful shopping trip ��� no purses, jewellery or sandals at the Shamel plaza that could match my taste! It leaves a bad taste in the mouth ��� or maybe that���s because I had some carbonated fizz with ice-cream and didn���t rinse my mouth later? :(

Now to things that make sense and are actually much more important than stupid shopping trips.

The final leg of our Umrah trip was to take us to Madinah, and closer to my birth-city of Tabuk. Makkah and Madinah are separated by a distance of about 450 km ��� around 3.5 hours by road, and we were out of the city by 4 pm. What amazed me, as we drove through numerous tunnels and over long flyovers, was that Makkah is a very large city and since it developed in a hilly area, there aren���t too many tall buildings but just little houses with flat roofs dotted over the landscape. Personally, I���d love to live in a place like Makkah ��� atleast, when you wake up at night and go to the balcony, you can close your eyes and imagine the Prophet (pbuh) going forth to the Hira cave in the shadows. It gives a great sense of security and peace��� but then, I believe, the sands of Arabia all seem to be singing the praise of Allah and pointing towards Makkah���

We stopped just to offer Asr prayer at a small petrol pump-cum-rest area and the sun set on our way to Madinah. Since were traveling towards a region where the sun set later than in Makkah, the light from the sunset and the subsequent shades in the sky persisted for a long while, and when darkness actually fell, we were on the outskirts of Madinah. The approach to Madinah from the Tabuk direction, that is from the north, is through rocky mountains, sandy plains and barren hills. In contrast, the southern road from Makkah, is runs through a uniform landscape ��� rocky hills of varying shapes, and more shapes are quite interesting, especially when they are set against the sunset hues and tints.

The first thing you notice about Madinah, after Makkah, is the ���peace and quiet���, especially after sunset. The Prophet���s mosque in Madinah, no doubt highly revered, yet is still basically just a mosque ��� it attracts almost the same number of pilgrims as in Makkah, but few are recurrent��� many are just passing through. Also, Madinites usually offer prayers in mosques closer to their homes, except for the Friday prayer perhaps. As we entered Madinah, my father told us that the Prophet (pbuh) loved this city so much that when he neared it, on the way back from some expedition, he would urge his camel forward into a run and enjoy the rushing air that thus greeted him.

As it was time for Ishaa when we entered Madinah, we decided to stop at Masjid-e-Qiblatain (Two Qiblahs) to offer the prayer. It was at this site that the Prophet (pbuh) received the Divine Revelation ordering him to change his Qiblah from the Aqsa mosque in Jerusalem to the Kaabah in Makkah ��� it is thus named Qiblatain, Two Qiblahs. After the prayers, we were back in our car and decided to take up the next big challenge ��� finding the Pakistan House in Madinah. Following the road signs, getting to the Prophet���s mosque is easy but finding a suitable and economical hotel, unless you have a reservation, is a BIG problem. Thus, we decided to look for the Pakistan House.

After taking a few directions from helpful Pakistanis here and there, we were in the Pakistan House of Madinah, which, sadly, has quite a few lessons to learn from it���s sister-building in Makkah. Charging the same rates for the respective rooms, they fell behind in standard to such an extent that at first, I thought it was absurd! The carpets had stains, the bedsheets obviously hadn���t been washed and useless racks (storage space, in a hotel?!) had been built in a wall��� each storage compartment was about one feet by one feet and several inches deep��� well and good, but who on earth would need them?! They looked like niches to display crystals or cute little vases! The ���Room Service��� had been advertised on every main wall in the building, from the reception to the elevators and floor corridors��� however, when Abba ordered some dinner, they didn���t send it up. Tired and sleepy from the drive, my father called them again only to be told that no order had been received and had he perhaps ordered food from the restaurants across the road? You can imagine my father���s irritation at that.

Anyway, we sisters retired to our room as we had to wake up at 3:00 am for Fajr. By the way, our room was a hexagon and I later discovered, when I heard sounds of rushing water and found a drain, that it had been a KITCHEN before it was converted to a bedroom! The rushing sounds were from a thick drainpipe that ran beside a wall in the room ��� and since the sounds were *occassional*, I presumed there must be a bathroom on the floor above us. Ah���

I live by a rule��� keep the lights on when sleeping in a weird hotel.

We woke at 3:00 am and ran about hurriedly making Wudhu, and not one of us had any intention of missing the shuttle service between the Pak. House and the Mosque, which was around two kilometers away in walking terms (over the underpass, across wide roads, around a large construction site, along long streets and lanes, and finally, across the Mosque courtyard).

I just love going for Fajr, be it Makkah or Medinah ��� because when men and women quietly emerge from their residences and all hear towards the mosque in a serene manner, without the hustle and bustle of the city in the background, you feel as if you���re watching everyone going towards some big goal, all equal. When I was younger and we stayed closer to the Prophet���s mosque (in hotels that have now been cleared away to erect taller structures), I always loved people emerging from tiny streets and lanes, and walking towards the mosque in the darkness, with the Azaan echoing in the otherwise quiet night��� the scene reminded me then of the Day of Judgment, when people would be walking towards the Hashr plain ��� although I know the scene would, alas, be more chaotic then.

We were in time for the shuttle service that took us to the Mosque along a route we had never, ever taken before, and neither had my father ��� through the massive underground parking lots. When the Prophet���s Mosque underwent expansion (carried out by the Saudi Bin-Laden company), all aspects were taken into consideration ��� increasing visitors and pilgrims needed not only space to pray but the great problem of parking area cropped up. Thus, most of the area around the mosque underground was excavated to make parking lots. At peak time, these spaces are full. Not only this, but the underground parking is connected directly to the mosque���s courtyard through two levels of escalators, separate for men and women, and washrooms provided at each level. The proper, full-fledged underground washrooms are actually constructed alongside the parking area exits. Such is the rush in the Hajj season that all of the hundred or so washroom stalls in each washroom area (of which there are ten to eleven for each gender, around the mosque, underground) are in use.

So��� we ascended the escalators and saw directly above us, the towering minarets of the beautiful mosque. I reminded myself to take a snapshot of that view ��� but fate had other plans! When we approached the closest doorway for ladies, there were two authorized women standing there, checking the purses and handbags of the entering ladies. Camera phones and Bluetooth are frequently derided by the religious authority, basically because photography is officially and strictly banned everywhere in the Kingdom and also because some percentage of the wacky-weirdo Arab youth snap photographs of women in the market place, etc. etc. The guard-women at the mosque���s gate would check my purse too, which contained a pocket-size Quran, a Sony Ericcsson J300i and an Acer Digicam. At Makkah, the checking was not very strict ��� I took out the mobile and showed it to the concerned person, and he didn���t look into the purse where I kept my Digicam.

At Madinah, the woman was thorough in her checking ��� she soon discovered the camera and told me that I���d have to take it back to my father or any male relative outside. Where was I to find Abba, who was entering through the male entrance, and whom I had last seen in the parking lot? She spoke in Arabic and I could catch just a few words��� I tried to tell her I wouldn���t use it, but she turned a deaf ear. So, what did we do?

We prayed Fajr outside, under the lovely dark sky, in the mosque���s courtyard. Perfectly normal. And next time, my camera stayed in one of those ���storage-compartments��� in the wall of the hotel room.

About the Prophet���s mosque: it is enormous, and although I can���t exactly quote the capacity in terms of the number of people that can pray there, I do know that the mosque covers an area now, that in the days of the Prophet (phub), was the entire Madina (or rather, Yathrib) town. Around 5-6 km from the Mosque, directly opposite the Faisal gates, lies the large and longitudinal Ohud mountain, where the Ohud battle was fought.

The main features of the Prophet���s mosque are the same as those of the Haram in Makkah, with an added feature that it is fully air conditioned whereas the Haram is provided this facility in select areas so far. Most of my knowledge of the two holy mosques comes from two sources ��� firstly, by seeing everything for my self, and secondly, by watching the documentaries produced by the Bin-Laden company, detailing each aspect of the expansions at these sites. I could, thus, write for hours about how they constructed the doors with the greatest details, polished the marble pillars and their various fittings, setup underground Zam Zam lines, constructed enormous domes, installed marble finishing factories, electrical power plants etc. etc.

The Prophet���s tomb is towards a side of the mosque, easily accessible from the male entrance but farther from the female ones. My earliest memories of going for saying ���Salaam��� at the Prophet���s tomb are of lining up outside a small gateway within the mosque ��� this gate closed of the corridor leading to the tomb area. After Zuhr prayers, at 1:30 pm (separate timings for women), they would open the gates and women would hurry forward across the polished marble, down the corridor flanked by large pillars, dappled in sunshine in patches from the roof inlets towards the Prophet���s tomb.

The tomb itself is not directly accessible��� around it is built a cage like wall, a grill with an intricate pattern so you really can���t see inside��� and it���s flat in there anyway. Adjacent to this tomb are the tombs of Hazrat Abu Bakr (RAH) and Hadrat Umar (RAH) in similar grill-enclosed areas. There is yet another chamber but the title plague over it is blank��� the grave is empty��� it has been kept for Hazrat Isa (A.S.).

After praying ���Durood��� and the customary words of ���salam��� one utters at graves, as done by the Prophet (pbuh) himself, I remember going to the Riyadh-ul-Jannah, marked by a white-carpeted area. It is said to be part of the Prophet���s chamber and thus, offering two rakah of Nafil prayer are deemed to be very rewarding ��� Allah knows best! We also saw the platform where the Scribes of the Divine Revelation (Ashab-e-Sohof) sat and recorded the words of the Quran ��� it is about one feet high, and around eight feet by six feet in area.

My father has also had the chance to offer Juma prayer at the Prophet (pbuh)'s Pulpit, from where the Prophet delivered his sermon. I have not seen it for myself as it is located in the male area of the mosque.

If you roam within the mosque, you can see large indoor courtyards dappled in sunlight during the day ��� but you can cover up those gaps in the roof too! They���ve used large, machine operated umbrella-type of shutters, mounted on long poles. When expanded completely, these canvas shutters work completely close the gaps. But that feature I love most is the sliding dome! Large, finely crafted and intricately designed domes all over the mosque are actually mounted on railings��� sometimes, after Fajr or Maghreb, these domes silently and slowly begin to move and ultimately you can see the stars twinkling outside. When my mother witnessed it, she said she felt her prayers were flying up to heaven through those windows.

I���ve always felt that the authorities are doing an excellent job in the maintenance of the two Holy mosques, considering the enormity of the task, the number of pilgrims who visit and mess created by the majority of the visitors! Some argue that the oil wells provide money which is actually making this efficient management possible ��� but I disagree and perhaps, you will too.

We had reached Madinah in the evening of 4th July and, after spending the whole of the next day there, were ready to depart to Tabuk in the morning of 6th July. Since the drive was quite long ��� around seven hours ��� we decided to get onto the road immediately after returning from Fajr prayer so that we���d be in Tabuk by 1 pm or so. As the sun rose over the horizon, we were on the highway, and the view of the Ohud mountain was spectacular ��� as always. Hour by hour, through rocky hills, then the higher, mountainous area of Ashash, the desert plain around Tayma and finally, the most beautiful rolling sand dunes on the outskirts of Tabuk, we entered the city I will always call home���

With this, our ���Umrah trip��� came to a close, and Allah alone knows when we will be able to see those places again��� that���s what I think everytime we return from Makkah and Madinah and it is the main reason why I wish to be able to visit Saudi Arabia freely for a long time��� every good thing must reach it���s termination though, and our time in Saudi Arabia is drawing to a close. A year or two years later, many important things will reach their conclusion in Tabuk, and they will all ultimately lead to our final exit from the Kingdom.

I���ve still got lot���s more to say on these subjects but there���s a limit to what you can waste ��� even if it���s free space on blogger.com��� perhaps later, then. Allah Hafiz!

The Holy city of Makkah

Before anything else, I have to say that I am very impatient and restless ��� I want to say a thousand things all in a go��� before I get bored.

So many things have happened since my last posting. If you don���t believe me, well, it suffices to say that I performed two Umrahs (Alhamdolillah) during this time. As soon as I was through with the last of my practical exams, Amma, my sisters and I were to depart to Saudi Arabia where my father lives and works. Our real destination was Tabuk, my birth-city to the north of S. Arabia, close to the Jordanian border. However, we had wanted to perform Umrah too, so we boarded the 4-hour Karachi-Jeddah flight on 1st July.

The flight was fine, Alhamdolillah, but the real trouble started at the Jeddah airport. The problem is that Saudis, by nature, are a very lazy and proud nation. The immigration officers strolled here and there, anywhere but their desks! The immigration lines grew longer, and my mother, as usual, drifted from line to line to see which was shortest, or tried to jump the line and go right to the front��� embarrassing, yes. Anyway, after about an hour, we were out of the airport where we met Abba. Aaah��� family reunions are always very pleasant. Still, we do meet Abba within six months or so, so it���s not a very long separation!

Makkah is an hour���s drive from Jeddah, and we planned to enter the city by 3 pm to avoid the rush of Zuhr prayer. School holidays start here around 20th June, which means the two holy cities are jam-packed, especially on the weekend ��� Thursday and Friday. We stopped at a popular fast-food restaurant on the way ��� Tazaj ��� not McDonalds (local fast-food chains are much more popular here than foreign franchises like McDonalds and KFC). After a sumptious meal, we were back on the road.

The Meeqat i.e. the sacred Haram boundary (beyond which pilgrims are to wear Ihram) lies almost within the city of Makkah now, due to large scale development in recent years. Amma, my sisters and I had already offered the two Nafl required for entering Ihram condition in Karachi so all we had to do was wait for Abba to don his Ihram at the meeqat, and join us.

Recently, I���ve been taking a lot of interest in all things religious, which basically originated from attending voluntary Quranic classes at my college for two years. My Zoology teacher, Mrs. Rukhsana Saleem, is a very kind and elderly woman ��� she taught us, a small group of about twenty to thirty students, major Surahs during her free time and our break periods. It was a very enlightening experience, especially since it was so interactive and we were also able to discuss major global issues and their effect on Muslims in the present and coming times. Coupled with this activity was my inherent and instinctive love for the Middle East. It all combined into a very excited and ecstatic (excuse the alliterations) wait up to the Umrah. We were driving towards Makkah, through hills and rocks of varying shades, and I could almost imagine this place thousands of years ago, graced by our Holy Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) and his companions on camelback, slowly making their way across the dunes���

The city of Makkah, once confined within the main vale, has now spread over the surrounding hills and mountains. This was only possible after development authorities bore through the mountains, creating a mesh of tunnels, underpasses, flyovers and bridges. This has really facilitated the free flow of traffic and easy access to the Haram, especially in peak seasons of pilgrimage.

We made straight for the hotel, where we planned to rest for an hour or two before proceeding for Umrah. Our place of stay was the Pakistan House, for the first time ever, and I���m pleased (and surprised) to say that it was a lovely experience. Although the Pakistan House might need a touch of maintenance here and there, it is a very decent place to stay, with a well-mannered and efficient staff employed directly through the embassy. The major plus point is that it is quite close (about 900 m) to the Haram and easily affordable by all ��� which says a lot, since hotels close to the Haram charge maddeningly high sums.

To the point, then. We decided to offer Maghrib prayers at the Haram, and then start our Umrah. Thus, after a nap, we were on our way towards the mosque. My heart was fluttering with excitement, and longed to see the Kabah as soon as possible. The wait had been very long and much delayed. Across the wide open, marble courtyard of the Haram, we entered through ���Baab Fahd��� (Fahd gate), and headed for the ladies section.

Pilgrims who visit Makkah for the first time are often wound up in various worries ��� passport, visa, hotels, transport, etc. and the true magnificence and essence of the place bounces off them the first day. But when they stay there for a few days, everything sinks in. Pure and fresh air that seems to blow from the Kabah itself, greets the pilgrim and offers relief from the burning heat of summer. The marble is cool beneath the feet ��� and there���s a good reason for that too. Outside the Haram, in the courtyard, cool water is circulated beneath the marble to keep it cool, even at mid-day. Around the Kabah, within the mosque, the same procedure enables pilgrims to perform Tawaf in the peak days of summer (circling the Kabah 7 times, while praying and glorifying Allah).

Excuse me, I do tend to go off-track and begin to ramble terribly sometimes ��� it is a very marked idiosyncrasy.

After Maghrib, we went up to the Kabah and began our Tawaf. The crowd making Tawaf consisted of those in Ihram, as well as casual visitors. With the light from the sunset tinting the sky faintly, and Zikr and Tasbeeh resounding in the air, it is a most exhilarating experience ��� but then again, concentrating on your steps and the constant elbowing you receive from your surrounding people makes it a wee bit difficult to concentrate on the religious and spiritual aspect. One bit of advice though ��� try perform Tawaf after Isha prayer or before Fajr, when most of the public has left and usually, only pilgrims performing Umrah remain��� it is the most peaceful and relaxed time you could get.

After Tawaf, it was time for Isha prayer and we quickly joined the congregation. The Imaams who lead prayers at both Makkah and Madinah are widely revered for their excellent Tilawat (recitation of the Holy Quran) but you have to hope to be there at the right time ��� apart from the month of Ramadan ��� to hear the best, such as Sudais, Shorim and Hudhaify. During my entire Umrah trip, three days at Makkah and two at Madinah, there were just the last Maghrib and Isha at Madinah which were led by Hudhaify.

One thing that I almost forgot to mention, and should have mentioned right in the beginning, is the excellent management and maintenance at the two Holy Mosques. These two sites, which are visited round-the-clock by thousands daily, and millions annually, are maintained, under the supervision of the authorities, by the Saudi bin-Laden group. This company basically supplies the manpower required to run and maintain almost every aspect of the Mosques. Any body who visits these sites cannot overlook the enormous effort put into maintaining them 24/7 ��� from cleaning the marble floors, walls, stairs, escalators, Tawaf area, Saee area and courtyards to the colossal task of ensuring that Zam Zam water is available to every pilgrim just a few feet away ��� wherever he or she is inside the mosque! The staff is constantly seen polishing the walkways with their heavy equipment, vacuuming the carpets and picking up trash and empty water cups.

The number of pilgrims and visitors at both Holy Mosques has been increasing substantially over the years and the Zam Zam well obviously cannot supply abundant water to each and every city in the Kingdom, as well as foreign countries, apart from the Mosques themselves ��� without diluting the Zam Zam water slightly. Also, Zam Zam is very ���heavy���, rich in many salts and minerals; earlier, when it was not diluted with ordinary water, it was very difficult for anyone to drink even a single glass of it. Nowadays, you can easily down up to two glasses but the fact remains that Zam Zam is very extraordinary water ��� after a while, you really wish you had a bottle of ordinary water.

The Zam Zam well was earlier easily accessible and anyone could go down the wide, sloping tunnel near the Kabah and get as close to it as was possible with all the pumping equipment, machinery and network of pipes surrounding it. The authorities recently closed up the entrance, as it took up a lot of space in the inner courtyard and now, I���ve heard, there is a separate entrance for men through a different approach area.

In Makkah, the maintenance staff constantly check the Zam Zam water coolers, and replace the empty ones, as well as replenish the disposable cups with each cooler. You might think I���m stupid to point out something so trivial but you really have to be there to know what I���m talking about. When I say that a drink of Zam Zam is just a few feet away, wherever you may be, I���m not kidding! There might be more than a thousand Zam Zam coolers at the Haram in Makkah ��� and people drinking out of them continuously, every time using a disposable cup ��� and you never find a cooler empty. Kudos to the staff!!

So��� after the Isha prayer, we went ahead for Saee��� which can be uncomfortable for very old or very young feet. The distance from the Safa to the Murwah hill must be around 500m and you have to walk to and fro, a total of seven times ��� that���s around 3500m or 3.5km. As in the rest of the mosque, this area has been paved with marble ��� and interestingly, this was the first area of the Haram to be paved. Additionally, two lanes have been provided for those in wheelchairs. Walking and praying during Saee, I could only imagine how difficult it must have been during the days when people would walk the same track, then full of pebbles and rock fragments, with bare feet.

As soon as we were done with Saee, that is, about a quarter of an hour later, all we had to do was snip off a bit of a strand of hair and that completed the Umrah, Alhmadolillah! I just hope that it is accepted by Allah.

The rest of our stay at Makkah was relaxed and easy going ��� most of us had a few troubles with the gastrointestinal track (Haha, I wanna be a doctor, mommy!) but those were solved with light medicines ��� but why am I mentioning this? Anyway��� we had lots and lots of icecream cones (especially after Fajr prayer), and my favorite Arabian sandwich ��� the 'Taa���mia'. A 'Taa���mia' is a ���scrumplicious��� and filling sandwich: half an Arabian nan, the Khubz is stuffed with Falafil (round fried kebabs, that look like donuts, made out of chick-pea paste), fried brinjal, tomatoes, onions, pickles, yoghurt sauce, potato fries, boiled eggs and baby corns! Yum��� yum��� I just love everything Arab.

Leaving Makkah was not something my sisters and I were very happy about ��� we had settled into a comfortable routine, and especially liked the atmosphere of the Pakistan House. ���Must we go to Madinah?��� was what we kept asking Abba. Anyway, after performing Umrah for a second time (we had to go to the Ayesha Mosque at the outskirts of the city, to don Ihram again) we left Makkah on the 4th of July, in the afternoon��� and headed for Madinah.

This post is enormously enormous ��� and I���m feeling bored now ��� Allah Hafiz.

I'm comfy: Your home is my home!

Soo... skipping all that trash about introductions and silly things such as "my hobbies", "my dislikes", "favorite colour", "embarrassing moments", etc... I'm plonking right down on the Blogger sofa, propping my feet up on the table - wait, no, I don't like that... Ha. Ha.

Right.... plonking right down on the Blogger sofa and making myself comfy...

Hey, I just avoid wasting space on flat, 2-D (or rather 1-D if it were possible) descriptions of my "personality". It's boring, and frankly, nobody wants to read a blog that's "just begun".

Sooooo.... ah, yes, the weather. Well, it was sweltering in Karachi today (35 degrees Celsius, max and humidity at 62%) and with out car A.C. out of "gas", we suffered "heat strokes" to some extent. My mother drove me back from college with my sisters in the backseat, and even after downing a cup each of CARBONATED FIZZ (no free publicity! :P), we were ogling (okay, I was ogling!) at other cars with their windows up - and chilly, dry environments inside!

I'm not exaggerating when I say we suffered "heat strokes". My mother came home, had lunch, and didn't go along well with it. The walls felt as if they were radiating heat. The fans were mutinous, in league with those treacherous walls too, I suppose. My mother (Amma) and I, both, found some refuge in her room... I didn't bother changing my uniform... I tried to eat... too hot, couldn't get it down... all my enzymes were on "emergency leave". I couldn't even sleep... okay, cut it, Ameera... it's too boring.

Undaunted.

We even ran out of beverages (other than water... but we ran out of cold water too)... I tried to combine some leftover Tang (publicity... pay up, Tang people) with lemon juice and a subcontinental concentrated drink called Rooh Afza (a sweet concoction made with different herbs, and diluted with water... it's deep pink, rather red, in colour). Anyway, the "juice" wasn't really very tasty, so don't bother trying to make it. It's not as if I made it for the first time... it's just that if there was enough Tang, it would have tasted yummy, as usual! Tang and Rooh Afza combine to produce a lovely, orangish-red colour... people ask us what flavour instant drink it is that we make for them... oops, I let out the "s e c r e t r e c i p e".

Okay, I'm bored now. I would write more... but... maybe tomorrow. I'm over-comfy now.

Salam Alaikum!

Ethereal Melodies... just cuz' I thought it was a cool, mysterious and thick, oh sorry, deep name!

Haha. No, I'm not the " just cuz' " type, so that takes care of 99% of the introduction.

A normal 18 year-old wakes up to the realities of life (sorry, I know it's cliche'), sheds away girlish dreams and takes the world hands on... the result: Ethereal Melodies.

I'm just glad, in my case, the result wasn't "Let's Disco!" , "My life sux!", "I wanna die!", "Cruel planet!", "Desperado" etc.

After that, Ethereal Melodies should be the breezy, peaceful, dawn-lit blog I wish it to be.

But how's that possible when this blogger is a fan of temperate sarcasm, chocolate and carbonated fizz too? Hmm... I know you're thinking I'm just another lunatic-blogger-claiming-to-be-unique thingy on the web!

Well, maybe I am, maybe I'm not. You can't really predict life, can you?

I'll be back soon, inshAllah, with my debut post... untill then, Allah Hafiz.