The proper way to smoke a sheesha...

Hooray for completing another 101 in 1001! Friday evening I went to the very exotic (perhaps more exotic than any restaurant I actually ate at in Turkey) Cafe Istanbul for some surprisingly delicious food (though beware the belly dancer... I found her quite disconcerting) The food was great but it was shisha I came for. The last time I did shisha was as an eight year old in Pakistan. I remember the village elders sitting regally upon the manji's as they smoked their hookah.. My dad, noticing my wide eyed fascination, indulged me a few puffs. The memory of my ensuing coughing on the acrid smoke ensured my smoke free status during the most tempting years. Still- despite this, sheesha held its allure... 18 years later, Friday evening the intrigue was finally actualized (though it took me back approximately 18 years reminding me why I don't smoke). Now... though I technically "sheeshad" my technique was rather... lacking as it was noticeably unchanged in the past 18 years. In contrast to the waiter (a.k.a human chimey) who exhaled from his mouth, nose and ears *I* supposedly held it like a cigarette and puffed in a rather square fashion... well "if at first you can't succeed.. try try again" right? (PS: I didn't inhale) (P.S.S: apple flavored is yummy).

Random Addendum

I just read Shabina's post and it touched me. She talks about people who don't even try because they are scared to fail. She had two touching quotes: "What is to give light must endure the burning" and "You miss 100% of the shots you don't take" Sometimes we live as though its a dress rehearsal, but as Surah Asr admonishes, time is life and goes trickling by never to return. I'm not too scared to try in most areas but one part of my life I hold so dear that the thought of trying and failing paralyzes me to inaction. My dream is to write. To this end I purchased the "Writer's Market" guide to publishers and wrote out ten query letters to magazines with pitches for my ideas. But that was in July and the letters are still sitting unprinted inside my computer. Sure I joke "when I'm the next J.K. Rowlings.." all the time.. but doing something about it? The fear of rejection paralyzes me. Perhaps I inadvertently rejected myself. How elementary a concept yet how very enlightning.

The art of befuddlement

Summer's looming not too far in the horizon and I am befuddled. I have three options for what to do this summer and I've consulted with friends and family to the point of them throwing up their hands and fleeing in the opposite direction when they see me coming with the pensive look upon my face. So I ask you: Faced with these options what would you do? Note: the Summer programs cost about the same, are of the same duration, and same credit hours just different places.

Four Week Summer Abroad To Austria: This is a program in International Commercial Arbitration. We visit Linz, Vienna, Salzburg, Treinto; Italy; Prague and Budapest and visit the arbitraton courts of each city.

Four Week Summer Abroad To Brazil: This is a program in health and environmental law. We live in great accomadations right by Impanada and Copa Cabana but we also visit the Favelas (the slums) as part of our projects.

Don't Go To Either: And stay at home and work and take summer classes.

I'm torn. Part of me wants to go to Brasil. Yes it's is more dangerous and I've heard from people that it's more of a party city but I'm drawn to it for the opportunity to sit shoreside for four weeks perusing the hippie fairs and buying mangoes of every flavor and texture imaginable. But most of the advice I've received is to go to Austria. I mean how often do you get to see all those cities? Plus its safer. I actually reserved skymiles for Austria. But I don't feel that excited about it as I do about Brasil. Perhaps its because the Brasil professor had a snazzy slideshow with enticing visuals of oceans and mangoes. Perhaps its being in one country and truly absorbing the culture. I don't really know. I went to the professors for advice knowing that ofcourse they'd favor their own program but I had no idea the ferocity of their passion for their program. The Europe professor said, "sure go to Brasil if you enjoy getting mugged and shot." The Brasil said something so bizarre I can't really repeat it online. Needless to say, not much help.

And maybe I shouldnt go at all. Kashif encourages me to go abroad but I'll miss him :( Plus trips cost money maybe I should save the money and we could take a trip together? *sigh* I have applied for internships as well for summer jobs which if I get a very promising one I will pick over the other options simply because it makes better career sense. But if not... I'm torn about what to do... Been to any of these cities? Not been but know what you'd do in my shoes? Any advice much appreciated!

Thanks for all your advice. It means a lot to me that you took the time out to call, comment or email with your input. Hopefully after some soul searching I will reach a decision by week's end.

The dreams of those on feathers... and those upon the earth... are just as sweet.

Me: I'm not sure I want to do a firm job. 12 hour days plus weekends. Sure the money's great but I don't want those hours.
Them: You know you can't just think about yourself.
Me: Huh?
Them: It sounds nice but it won't be you two forever. Don't you want the best for your kids? Would you deprive them just because you don't want to do the work?

The above was a recent conversation. They said it with such conviction that it threw me. Is she right? If I have the earning potential is it wrong to deprive the theoretical children of BMWs on their 16th birthday? The best designer jeans? Can my (note: theoretical) children be deprived simply because they might not be wearing Gucci with the latest Prada purses? I didn't have those things but didn't feel deprived.. maybe I don't know what I'm missing? I looked at Maslow's Hieracy of Needs for a little perspective.

Physiological: the need to breathe, eat, dispose of bodily waste, sleep, regulate the bodily temperature, protection from microbial aggressions (hygiene). We live in a country where practically any food you desire is just a matter of driving. an actual bathroom, a fridge and freezer to store food from bacteria, water regulated by governmental controls... heck WATER which so many thirst for at this moment... My children will have all this just because they were fortunate enough to be born in the land of plenty.

Security: Security of resources, Physical Security, Moral and physiological security, Familial security, Security of health. We live in a country with a police system that doesn't function solely upon bribery, offers healthcare and free clinics.

Love/Belonging: Emotional relationships such as friendship,intimacy, and/or having a family. As the Beatles sang " money can't buy me love" ASH actually relayed a study that the happiest people on earth were in the poorest country's of Africa... the saddest? In the wealthiest nations... As Gibran says: how can I lose faith in the justice of life, when the dreams of those who sleep upon feathers are not more beautiful than the dreams of those who sleep upon the earth?

Esteem Needs: respected, to self-respect and to respect others. I guess a Gucci bag and Prada shoes can do wonders for self esteem, but I'd like to give them self worth through sports, arts, and helping them nurture their talents. A partner in a law firm, and an impoverished family in Africa can help their child's self esteem needs.

Self Actualization: They embrace the facts and realities of the world (including themselves) rather than denying or avoiding them, are spontaneous in ideas and actions, are creative, interested in solving problems, including the problems of others. Solving these problems is often a key focus in their lives, They feel a closeness to other people, and appreciate life They have a system of morality that fully internalized and independent of external authority, They judge others without prejudice, in a way that can be termed objective. Most of the world's rich or poor have not yet acheived self actualization. I do believe that the offspring of Paris Hilton and my own have an equal chance to self actualize.

Conclusion: Whether I make 100K, 50K, or nada my (theoretical) children's success will certainly not depend on the digits on our bank statement but on immeasurable other things that money simply can't provide. Either way, God willing, they'll be fine.

** NOTE:** based on a few comments I just need to clarify. I do not mean that its' bad to have money or bad to be rich. Hey if I become the next JK Rowlings I will be thrilled. I also didn't mean that we are poor or that I plan to just sit at home and twiddle my fingers once I finish my degree. This is not meant to be a cop out that money isn't important and I won't even bother pursuing making some. The point is that children can be fine with a normal income or an exorbitant income. To say that "oh my goodness my poor kids they are so deprived" when they have heat in the winter, ac in the summer, beds to sleep upon, doctors if needed, police just three digits away, free schools, loans, grants and scholarship opportunities, an abundance of food to the point that obesity is an issue in the US.. not starvation... to complain of deprivation is wrong. Before we look at those with more we should pause and look at those with less (i.e. the majority of our world) and thank God.

"I type at one hundred and one words a minute. But it's in my own language" Mitch Hedberg

and other random thoughts.....

Can I not take a joke?
Kashif and I rented our favorite show "Curb Your Enthusiasm" It's like Seinfeld, only better... but this particular one may have crossed the line...(here's some pics from the episode that might explain) Larry David runs out of gas in a neighborhood. Knocks on door after door which slams in his face (he needs to pee) and finally a niqabi woman (named ABOOR?) excitedly lets him in. Ms. Niqabi Aboor is ready to pounce on him (still in niqab) until she sadly learns he is married. He promises he'll find her a man. Goofy niqabi seeking boyfriend. Haha. Um satire has connection to reality.. isn't that the point?

Ethnic jokes are a very touchy area..... Maybe it can be funny if someone of the same ethnicity is making the joke... In Seinfeld, Jerry was infuriated because a dentist converted to Judaism purely for the jokes. Yes because its inappropriate for a non-jewish person to make jewish jokes. Chris Rock can make jokes about African Americans but can you imagine a white person making those same jokes?

Crash-
Speaking of stereotypes or prejiduce.. What a fabulous movie that brings to the surface the stereotypes we secretly harbor. It seems people either love or hate it. Matt Dillon did an AMAZING job and Ryan Phillipe's character had me thinking for days. I loved Roger Ebert's take on the movie: "Stand back and consider. All of these people, superficially so different, share the city and learn that they share similar fears and hopes. Until several hundred years ago, most people everywhere on earth never saw anybody who didn't look like them. They were not racist because, as far as they knew, there was only one race. You may have to look hard to see it, but "Crash" is a film about progress".

Racist IT Tech Support Fun
My computer was giving me problems so I called Gateway. The tech looks at my account and giggles: "there are some really weird names on the account. haha I see two really weird names" Me: WHAT? (with my meanest teacher voice reserved for particularly trying circumstances). No apology. Then he asks for my IP addy and other info that despite doubts I gave... then he asked for my security code and passwords and asked me to connect wirelessly to my neighbors account! Heeby Jeebied...I call Gateway who has no record of the call... SO I call my internet provider and five hours, a new virus/firewall protecter later this mess is sorted through. (btw- Norton is hard to remove... I finally had to take a leap of faith and download a program I googled).

Things going bump in the day..
On an entirely different note.. Friday as I'm ironing my clothes I hear a loud noise. It sounds like someone trying to open a window or door and scraping/banging against it combined with a cracking sound like someone is chopping wood. I got scared and peeked out but there was no one there. I walked around the outside to see if any trees were snapping. None. I leave to go meet someone (fellow blogger! :) It was great to meet you!) and can hear it from outside.. I come back and I've forgotten all about it. Finally as I put groceries away I start to hear it again and it's loud and continuous. It very much sounds like the noise emanates from inside the house. I call Kashif and as soon as I discuss it, the noise stops. Which ofcourse freaks me out. Then I call Huda because I remember she had a possible rodent issue... but her sounds were different. She thought maybe b/c of heavy winds in the area earlier in the week there could have been some roof damage that was manifesting. But we searched the attic and nothing looks visibly damaged... I googled but the only possible explanation is extreme cold can cause extreme dryness which can cause wood to contract and cause strange roof noises. But is it that cold or dry here? I heard it again today while Kashif was out and as soon as I called him the noise stopped. I dont know what it could be. Maybe a bird? We have had birds making nests on our washer/dryer ducts... maybe one decided to get cozy... Can anyone relate?

"There is a space between man's imagination and man's attainment that may only be traversed by his longing" -Gibran.

Today I went to a meeting where an ACLU lawyer was speaking against an impending voter id law. The meeting was at a church in the middle of downtown (that actually is a picture of the church). We got lost finding the gymnasium but the impromptu tour... I can't even put in words how it made me feel. We walked through a playground up to a door. It was not the correct door. It was the door to the domestic abuse center of the church which was relocatin next to the ballet hall the church bought to convert into the states largest homeless shelter. There was a school catering to the underprivelged, a workout room with fitness classes, drop area for clothing donations. A sign posted that the therapist had returned from vacation and was accepting appointments. Finally we found the gymnasium and listened to the Reverand's wife discuss voter ID followed by action items regarding tackling the city's homelessness problem. The meeting was secular but I felt the love and compassion that God wants us to show each other in that room not just through our words or kneeling or bowing in prayer but also through our actions. The church was not just a place to pray it was a community focal point for their worshippers. They went not just to pray, they went to feel needed and to belong.

It reminded me of the Blue Mosque in Turkey. Musjids were not meant to be solely places of prayer. The Ottoman Empire musjids had "soup kitchens" and fountains of water for the poor and provided shelter for travelers. Musjids used to be a place where people would gather and share ideas and feel part of a common community. When I saw this church along with my deep respect for the good work they are doing, I felt frustrated and very... sad. How would it feel if I had a musjid I could go to where I went not just to pray but also to participate in the community? How would I feel if I felt comfortable attending the musjid. Visiting this church brought to sharp focus my issue. Though Muslims have a lot more in common than different for some reason the musjid goers I've known since childhood are places to go to remember how sinful we are, and to sweat the small stuff. We focus on whether tendrils of hair are visible from her scarf. Whether her shirt properly covers her butt. And we not only focus we will walk over and very righteously berate her. We will say men and women are equal (which they are) but will sit in rooms 1/5th the size of the regular masala, completely closed off and hardly able to hear the imam. And once we are done with our prayer. We leave. Yes some musjids have schools, but most schools (yes there are exceptions) are rarely accredited. I know that we dont have the sort of budget to perhaps create musjids that could rival this church but I dont know if I even hear of dreams such as this even in wistful conversations. Maybe I'm not meeting the right people when I go.... It would feel nice to have a place like that church to congregate. To feel accepted and not judged. Regardless of our differences there is so much more we could focus on and grow from. The church had an open and warm atmosphere, participating in politics, they smiled and greeted people. Why did I feel infinitely more comfortable in a church than in a musjid?

My friend to whom I often complain about this says the only way to improve things is to participate and not give in to the negativity. I have tried and even taken leadership and teaching positions. But I'm weary of the constant uphill battle. I admire my friend for enduring. I'm choosing to do my part in different ways.... and I'm okay with that.

But looking at the church today I felt a strong twinge of something... perhaps it was wistfulness as I remembered the Ottoman Empire, a time I never knew. Walking through the church I wondered. Is this how it would have felt? Will it ever feel that way again?

Five Weird Things

You might be thinking "Aisha gone meme crazy!" But I was tagged. When one is tagged surely one must comply! Ali tagged me and I thought how simple! Five weird things. Surely I can come up with at least 50. But this is harder than I thought. Am I truly that normal? Who knew... well here's an attempt. If you do this, please let me know, I'd love to read it!

My dreams were once meaningful. Some people don't even remember their dreams but I used to know them in vivid detail. One dream in particular may have even saved my life.

I am really good at playing "Snake" the game you get on your cell phone. It used to be standard but now its not so I havent played it in years. BUT when it was standard I challenge anyone to beat me. Highest score of all time. And yes that's a completely unofficial statement :)

I am absolutely terrified of roaches. Not "ew" but actually heartstopping blood curling scared of roaches. No rational explanation for it but since I am surrounded by supportive loving people they do their best not to take advantage of this for their amusement. *uh huh*

I can speak urdu well (for an American desi who grew up on Punjabi) but infront of someone who is from Pakistan I freeze up. I wish I wouldn't because only through practice can I get perfect.

Fresh flowers make me sort of sad. Yes they're pretty when they come in the house but then they die. I HATE throwing away wilted flowers. It makes me sad.

I wish I was never born

Straight from my casebook: Infant plaintiff alleges he is born with congential rubella syndrome and doctors negligently deprived his parents of the choice of terminating the pregnancy. He seeks damages for pain and suffering and for his parents impaired capacity to cope with his problems.

Yes... the doctor negligently misdiagnosed the mother. Yes the doctor should pay up the nose. But... A baby suing because his parents didnt abort him?? *oy*

It sounds unbelievable but it's true and not that uncommon. The action is wrongful life. The case I quoted from is: Procanik v. Cillo, 97 NJ 339 and here is a link with some articles of recent such cases.

Aftershock: Gideon's Diary in Pakistan

Tonight @ 8pm on MTV (Thanks for the heads up Aamir)

Where are you from?

Today a lobbyist at the capitol asked "the question": Where are you from? As a child I used to say "Miami!" but then the questioner would smile "where are you really from?" His question transported me to 3rd grade as my mind raced to answer. Does he mean geographically? Where I grew up? My ethnic roots? Is Florida the right answer? That is where I'm from, its where I was born..went to school... my first word... I speak urdu and I identify with my pakistani roots strongly but I am American and implicit in a "where are you from question" is an assumption that you certainly couldnt be from here. You know, similar to the surprised "oh wow you are so articulate." Just because I dont ooze accent doesnt mean you should stand up and clap at the odd little monkey! This morning in my surprise at this unexpected question I gave an all-in-one sort of response, "Well my parents are from Pakistan but I'm from Florida but I live in Atlanta". I guess I am an odd little monkey. *sigh*

Biological and Adopted

Apparently its true, Angeline Jolie is pregnant. She is already a mother to two children she adopted but this is her first biological child. More fascinating to me than the whole "its Brad Pitt's child!" is my fascination of how will things change now that she will also have a child of her own gene pool compared to these other lovely children.

Since childhood I've wanted to adopt a child myself. Though I want to adopt, I also want my own children. Herein lies the question I've always had. Can you love your biological and adoptive children equally? I have ALWAYS thought the answer was: ofcourse. But people question my ironclad belief by saying that it's impossible to treat both the same and that I only feel strongly about this equal treatment/love thing because I do not yet have children. I still think I wouldn't differentiate between the two because they are children and I love children and though they came not of me, they are now a part of me.

So mentally I'm compromising. Maybe I will sponsor a child in another country for now... and then maybe once I have my own children and they are older, adopt. I just can't imagine loving two children differently or treating them differently. But perhaps that's my naiveness sticking out like a sore thumb .

Do you have any opinions on this? Has anyone adopted and had their own children or were the adopted or biological child in such a family? I'd love to hear what your thoughts, experiences are on this.

Two roads diverged...

Choices. My civ pro professor led a discussion on a novel we read detailing certain rules of civil procedure... but first asked us "What struck you about this story"... we discussed characters... emotions... what type of world view it reflected... For the first time in all my law school career I raised my hand to participate. As everyone sat discussing the book.... I felt transported to a time not so long ago... I remembered English lit courses, book groups...seeing my name in print... eating dinner with my family.. them asking me what "Mahfouz", my latest character, was up to in my novel... I heard this poem by Robert Frost when I was ten and it was no deeper than a man simply lost in the woods... but now... as I read it again.... years later... the poem's truth pierced... So many times in our lives we are faced with two paths... some take the path less traveled...Abu you did that too didn't you? So many choices we jump into.

Can't help but wonder.. did I take the path more traveled? Will this make all the difference.

TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,	1
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference. - Robert Frost

Time Line Meme

Forgive me for two meme's within a week. It's the last one for a while I promise! This one was fun for me... if you do it please let me know. I so enjoyed reading the year in review ones.

25 years ago: I was one. In Miami. Remember nada. But I heard it was a great year :)

20 years ago: I was 6 and in first grade. Alberto, the kid who sat next to me spilled glue all over my hand and then told the teacher I was playing with glue. I had to sit in time out. It sounds silly but when I see movies with people being framed I feel the frustration I felt then. Later Alberto, in a sincere attempt at apology stole a deer pencil sharpener from the "treasure box" for me. Yes, later the sharpener was discovered in my desk... *sigh*

15 Years ago: I was 11. Still in Miami, last year of elementary school at my school was 6th grade. Very grateful that these years were finally ending. I still vividly remember thinking... I'm in 6th grade. I'm halfway done. The span of time until graduation seemed painfully long.

10 Years ago: 16, My "thing" was writing poetry. I felt so deep and inspired all the time. My greatest inspirations I can still vividly remember were in accounting class. It is when your mind is most empty of all thought that you tap into your greatest creativity after all :) Around this age I was at my most spiritual. I yearn for that. Insh'allah.

5 years ago: I was 21. I just finished my masters filled with wonderful educational theories ready to start my first year teaching. I still remember the second day of school. Me and these 27 children in a dinky portable. I still remember three children jumping on their desks.... paper airplanes flying... spitballs landing... I remember standing admist the chaos...helpless.... mentally calculating how quickly I could pack up my things and turn in my resignation as I ran out the door! Luckily my mother talked me down, gave me some old fashioned advice from her tried and true methods (she's a teacher also). I still remember how "Michelle Pfieffer" from "Dangerous Minds" I felt walking in on day 3.... luckily my mom's advice worked... day 3 onwards I had no problems with them. alhamdullilah.

3 years ago: I was 23. Still a newlywed in a cozy two bedroom apartment. Falling in love with the snow and two weeks later completely OVER IT. Saddened by the absolutely wretched job market for teachers, and with way too much free time, creating oodles of scrapbooks. At this time we didnt know how long we'd be in Michigan.. the wide expanse depressed me.... maybe if I knew it was only to be about a year... I'd have reveled in being a housewife :)

1 year ago: I was 25. Started law school part-time (which meant FOUR classes) and taught the most amazing bunch of 2nd graders that ever existed. Bought a house that we walked into and immediately offered on because it was everything we wanted.

This year: I turned 26 in September. I'm a full time student at law school. I feel this is the first year that I'm learning more about who I am and "finding me". I dont know how to explain that... but the process has been long and I'm glad self understanding is closer at hand. Know thyself and thou shall know the world.

Yesterday: Lunch at cheesecake factory followed by a very "Larry David" moment from "Curb Your Enthusiasm (fabulous show btw which we watched that night). Went grocery shopping with Kashif which began as groceries for some beef leu mein.... but turned into a "buy one get one free" frenzy as brownies, baked lays, and sip up's filled the cart. It was a meal fit for a five year old's fantasies! :).

Today: Slept in... the lovely sort of sleeping in when you know there's nothing pressing you ought to be doing instead... drank lots of chai and did lots of cleaning to start the semester fresh. I believe the physical condition of your home reflects your inner condition. Tried to make it as organized, clean and orderly as possible. Watched desperate housewives and made beef leu mein... yummy if I do say so myself.

Tomorrow: Whenever I give plans for tomorrow I can't help but remember the saying "If you want to give your Sustainer a good laugh, tell him your plans for the future"... khair... the plan is to start law school. Civil Procedure II, Trademarks and Growth Management here I come!

Recap

I cannot believe the break is over! Time flies when you're having fun.. or sleeping. The fam came up for a week, and I went down for a week. It was a most relaxing two weeks filled with late night talks, practical jokes (why are these jokes always on me!?) and constant humiliation to anyone who tried to beat me at Air Hockey. Mommyblogr admonished me before break to abstain from books but I'm a book worm of the highest order (no TDH this does not mean I'm a nerd!) so ofcourse I devoured a few when I could spare some time... and a "few" movies too.

Quick Book Review: Pilot's Wife- entertaining page turner. Thanks Huda! PostSecret- I'm fascinated with the website where people from around the world share their secrets...so ofcourse had to buy the book. It's a fun read and a great coffee table book...though I wish he kept all the postcards their true sizes. Islam (by Karen Armstrong)- almost done with it and its a fantastic book. She has a gift to be interesting and fairly objective. I intend to read many more of her books.

Quick Movie Review: Sadly, though there were (very half hearted!) attempts to go see some movies in the theatre it seems that Fun with Dick and Jane (I dont care what the reviewrs say, it looks funny... repossessing their grass? that's funny!) and Memoirs of a Geisha will have to wait.... We did catch some at home though. Pinjar which I talked about in the post below. Jinnah- detailed the life of of Qaid-e-Azam the founder of Pakistan. It's in English and Christopher Lee did a good job portraying Jinnah. The movie helped me understand better the creation of Pakistan. The Interpreter is good if you like suspense movies. Hidalgo is great if racist stereotypes are up your alley... Man on Fire- eh. Could be better. Dakota Fanning needs to occasionally play a seven year old and not a 30 year old trapped in a child's body. In Good Company, surprisingly entertaining. I loved it for its lighteartdness. Reaffirmed why I dont want to work for corporate America though.

I am also thrilled to announce the laptop is back. And it's fixed. Thank you Geeksquad, you get major kudos in my book for having found the laptop in the warehouse when it was not labeled under either Kashif or Aisha... but Joseph.... JOSEPH. It's amazing that my books are now sitting on bookshelves and not performing CPR on this laptop!

And school... the cycle reconvenes on MONDAY. Though Spring is just as busy credit wise (well 17 instead of 18 credits!) I'm looking forward to packing the classes into three days and having Tuesdays and Fridays off. I'm also excited to work at the aclu , I'm hoping I'll do good work there and that it will lead to other opportunities. I was going to work at the aclu in the fall but because I wanted to try out for moot court competitions I delayed until spring. I'm sure they'll ask me "so did you make it".... its going to be hard to say.. ... no.... ah well.

Eid is Tuesday. If you were considering doing the qurbani overseas I found this website where I sent my donation to. They also send to Pakistan. I know some people believe that you must do qurbani locally... I've done that before but I personally prefer donating overseas where to me the need seems a matter of life or death like it is right now for the homeless and starving in Pakistan.

"When you were born I prayed you would die"

I watched an amazing movie, Pinjar last week. (It has subtitles so if there's an Indian store near you, it's worth a watch) To me the major message of this movie was the treatment of women in the eastern subcontinent. I refer not to any particular religion because the culprit of the acts against women are not religions but people. Though based on the 1940's, the helpless status of a woman portrayed in the film remains true today.

If a woman in the eastern subcontinent is raped, more often than not is cast away from her family, worse still sometimes sentenced for adultery. This situation has come to the world's attention with the brave Mukhtar Mai. Her teenage brother was accused of flirting with a woman of a different family, in retribution the men of the woman's family kidnapped and gang raped Mukhtaran Mai. Typically a woman in such a situation kills herself. Instead, Mukhtaran went public bringing to center stage the shame that countries who avert their eyes to such practices must face.

Honor killings, another henious practice, justifies a family murdering their own daughter for
indecent behavior oftentimes as simple as a relationship, or a smile which leads townfolk to wonder more. If people talk, its as good as if you did it. Kill your daughter, protect the family name. The men are rarely implicated or face any reprucussions for their behavior.

Stories like Brick Lane, Arranged Marriage, show the despair of the ordinary housewives trapped by the system and limited in the ability to fly to the heights, unrestricted they could. Dancing Girls of Lahore shows as Mayya pointed out, only in the red light district is the birth of a girl truly valued... and only for the saddest of reasons.

Even today "wife burning" continues where a woman whose family didn't come up with the "dowry" to pay the groom's family will gas the woman in the kitchen and light a match. whoops. "Accidents" happen they claim. Governments turning their eyes. It is not right.

The rights women in the US were afforded very recently in the span of humanity such as working outside of the traditional "nurses and teachers" and the right to vote, to choose, etc. are still light years from reaching most of the developing world. In India with the advent of sonograms, baby girls are aborted before they are born leading to an unusually high boy to girl ratio in many cities. It's too much work. The weddings can bankrupt a family.

I can't imagine what it would be like, for my birth to have been a day of sorrow. For my role as a wife to be one of servant, and child bearer, the caterer to the needs of everyone in the joint family system. Sometimes as I drive my car simply to visit a friend for lunch... I can't help but stop to think of women who will never even know such simple freedom.

In Pinjar, the mother weeps as she holds her daughter and says, when you were born I prayed you would die. The saddest part of the movie is you understand. The movie does not seek to play one side as right and the other is wrong. The movie shows the mindset of the people. Why they make the decisions. They are working with the cards they're dealt with. No one sleeps with peace at night.

* I don't mean to generalize millions upon millions who do not sanction such activities. But I speak of a problem that does exist. The women of these areas have no voice. Without attention, it can't be solved *