JILL_Of_aLL_TraDEs

the casualties of valentine's day ...

2010-02-13T10:32:00.002+02:00

....tears, tissues and tragedy

It is a few days to the beginning of the second month of the year and the once carefree Muslimah that was happy being unattached now sulks around, downturned face as none of her male mxit contacts have claimed undying love for her yet and the clock was ticking faster to the day of celebration. On the other side of the screen, the innocent looking Muslim boy spurts sweet nothing to every other female in hope of having one or maybe a few to call “His One” for that day.

Taking a step outside, one would feel as if they have adorned rose tinted glasses as the world looks as if it has been repainted in a blood red hue. Every tree seems to be blossoming plastic hearts, and tacky gifts seem to be more precious than jewels. One would not be wrong to assume that Cupid has struck the entire world with his arrow, from all the love struck couples that seem to surface at this period.

The commercial world which is always ahead of the mood of the consumer, add to the atmosphere with their romantic gifts, cards with lines that would make Shakespeare look like nursery rhymes and roses the price of an entire garden.

Looking through the chronicles of history one sees pages dedicated to the lovers of bygone days. Flipping open ones sees the legend of Romeo and Juliet’s two day love story, a few pages down and the tale of the unattainable love of Layla and Majnu is remembered. Flipping a few pages, one is reminded of the love story of Tristan and Isoldey and Anthony and Cleopatra and further on the romance of Pyramus and Thisbe is retold. As the book reaches an end, last but far from the least the love of Salim and Anarkali who was entombed alive is repeated. Saint Valentine the Christian priest who died for Love is honoured just as he is on this day. Each tale of love seems to hold a central of tragedy and a loss of love before it is even enjoyed.

We look for the definition of love in stories of couples who died before they could enjoy their love, of couples who went mad in the drug of love, ate of forbidden fruit and fell to their death and in fairytale that do not go beyond a feeble happily ever after.

To steal a line from the Brothers of Native Deen: “ We look for love in places dark and cold, when we have a guiding light for the whole world to be hold”.

We have a fairytale to be in awe off; the most romantic love story to share with all; a celebrity couple to use as role model; a match made not by man but by the Creator and the epitome of love; the love of our Prophet and his wife Khadija (May peace be upon them).

Today’s love is so fleeting that many do not have go deeper than the paper they were printed on and last no further than the next message.

Let us take a journey to the month of March and note the wilted flowers strewn on the floor as the once jubilant girl fervently chants, “he loves me, he loves me not”. Hear the regret on the lips on the lad who wasted his allowance all in hope to woo the girl who was never going to be his. Watch the girl franticly exercising off the chocolate induced weight, the only evidence of the love that has now been long forgotten. Get your glue ready to patch those broken hearts.

till the glue dries
i bid thee farewell

a long overdue ramble is due ...

2010-01-28T13:06:00.009+02:00

after a crazy year of final exams, an evolution of myself,a metamorphis of my scribbling, lots of firsts and lasts, goodbyes and hellos to many intersting pepole, new charactes adding to my theatre of life and some walking out, others being snatched away and some just blending in with the surrounding, 2010 finally arrived.

No fireworks for my celebration, no drunken cheers but a candlelight vigil for peace in the land of the Pharoahs watched over like a misbehaving kid by police and surrounded my strangers who in that week became freinds in our common bond was how I welcomed in the year of magic, 2010.

Africa's year, My year and Your Year! the year every dream is said to come true, the year we get to showcase ourselves and the year of endless possibility!

returning from the city of dust, crazy taxies, sheesha, pharoahs and police took me many weeks to touchdown to reality and get back to the routine of life.

Check www.footsteps4gaza.blogspot.com to get a peek into the Cairo Chronicles, pictures and my ramblings to follow ..

Scribblings of 09 ...

2010-01-28T12:58:00.003+02:00

Pink The ColoUr Of SolidarIty ...

If you happen to walk into AL Falaah College in Durban, on the 28th of November you would have been greeted by a cheery sight of little Muslimahs all donned in different shades of pink hijab and their feet in the cutest pink pumps, and young boys with a colourful array of toppies. Walking around your town you would have been sure to catch sight of many Muslimah’s looking very bright. While around the globe saw hundreds of Muslimah’s shed their normal hue scarf for the bright cheery pink colour.

This is not some new hijab fad or a ritual for the welcoming in, off the colourful season, but the participation of women in an initiative called Global Pink Hijab day. If you have not heard of this day, where have you been as October was Breast Cancer Awareness month. Our Muslim sisters decided to join hijab’s in support of this campaign.

Pink Hijab Day began with a small group of high school girls in the small town of Columbia, Missouri, and the event now has thousands of participates all over the world.
The event takes place the last Wednesday of every October. Participants in Pink Hijab Day encourage the curious to ask questions about hijab, as well as promote breast cancer education, and donate to various Breast Cancer Foundations.

”Pink Hijab Day is intended to shatter stereotypes of Muslim women, as well as raise awareness and funds for breast cancer research”, the Muslim Professional Network (MPN) stated. Muslim women, as well as their counterparts of other faiths across America, Egypt, Botswana, Qatar, Saudi Arabia, Canada, Trinidad, UK and South Africa observed “Global Pink Hijab Day” by donning pink headscarves. “The MPN in partnership with ABSA Islamic Banking promoted the Day within the corporate sector... by handed out pink scarves in workplaces.”

Al Falaah College was one of the schools which brought this initiative to their classrooms for the second consecutive year, as the school felt they wanted to “inspire learners into doing their bit for the awareness of cancer”. A creative way of teaching by implementation added enough practicality with fun to make the day a phenomenal success. “Learners were asked to donate monies to participate in this campaign, and the proceeds were donated to an organisation which strives in the fight of cancer”, educator Rehana Sayed shared during our chat.

It was just not the learners who got involved in the day, the educators were not left behind, dressed in the pink inspired hijab , educators were treated to “high tea” were a female gynaecologist addressed them on the importance of breast self examination as well as illustrated the procedure that should be done every month.
Educators also had a chance to chat to her on different issues one on one.

Using creativity learners paired together to form a pink ribbon, a highlight of the day for many. This initiative “Brings Currents Issues into the "classroom” and is vitally important as it keeps our youth educated, informed and "in tuned" with the world around them. Using imaginative ways to do this ensures that the "current issues” are not easily forgotten but remembered through the initiatives taken.” This event would surely not be forgotten easily as creativity was one of the key elements in this campaign.

Global Pink Hijab day was intended to initiate dialogue, promote education about the Islamic headscarf and most importantly raise breast cancer awareness.

(PubLished in Inews 09)

Togeather In PinkNess :)

Whats in a name ?

2009-11-20T22:17:00.003+02:00

a name is just few alphabets arranged together, a simple collection of a few different syllables and a noun that people refer to you as. Therefore does it really have any effect on ones personality or shapes one future, Is it like a secret path written for you to follow pre determined by the name that's chosen fro you.

Some might agree, while others might regard it as "old-wives" tales. Personally i was a little sceptical of the while notion, til i read the meaning of my name. If felt as if on that day when my maternal grandfather walked through the hallways, searching for a name for me , the then nameless baby, he was given divine inspiration.

Hasina- three simple syllables and a combination of Ha, seen and noon. a name of Arabic origin meaning beautiful.

This definition of me , was like a character sketch of who I am, each trait of my personality weaved together, like threads in the blanket of my existence, every description a hue in the painting of my portrait and every letter a melody in the song of my soul.

The charm of a coffeeshop

2009-11-03T11:29:00.005+02:00

One place you can always feel at home among strangers is a coffee shop. Pondering over a lone cuppa coffee nobody gives you sympathetic glances at your single presence. Recluse is not the first thought that pops into mind, when you spot a soul chaired quite alone at a coffee shop One place where two people can share a table but not thoughts each engrossed in different things sitting across each other.

A place of meeting, a venue for indulging, the setting for pondering, the scene for romancing and the zone for contemplation ...this is the true definition of a coffee shop.

For the hang out place for that Friday evening, pre-weekend planning session, to the Saturday secluded venue to serenade that pretty lass, it is the idyllic getaway for a Sunday morning brunch, a Monday business meeting can be held ideally in this environment, weekly mid week chit chat with the gals are held in this location, while this spot meets the standards for that mother- daughter monthly outing,it is the perfect zone for that cramming student to revise in these settings,stopover spot for a recharge between a shopping spree and not forgetting the hide-away for that much needed me-time! Where is this versatile scene ..a coffee shop of course :)

a step into destiny ---> essay on an incident that changed my life

2009-11-03T11:17:00.005+02:00

Times change ... but memories stay eternal ...

An incident that changes one’s life can be something as earth shattering as moving a continent or as insignificant as a little gift. For me life made a 360 degree turn on a sunny Saturday afternoon, when my mum decided that it’s time for me to get my first pair of heels. She was all excited at the prospect of her little girl metamorphosing into a woman. I couldn’t understand what all the hype was about; it was after all just a pair of shoes. How much difference could it really make? Little did I know about this contraption that held so much of power.

We reached my mum’s favourite boutique, and were helped by the owner’s son, a fairly average looking young guy. I browsed around and was a little spectacle to try on any of the shoes as I have only ever worn pumps and sneakers. Finally after a little coaxing from my mum, I chose a wedge heel to try on.

The first time I slipped my feet into the high sky scraping black leather and cream wedges, I felt like a colt than stood up for the first time, my knees buckled and I wobbled a little as I took my first tentative step. I staggered like a drunk on a night out and almost gave up trying to manoeuvre with these tottering heels, but one glimpse in the mirror and I changed my mind. The added height made my slightly plump body look curvy, and with each step I took, even tentatively, my body swayed a little as if walking to a beat only I could hear.

From my new vantage point, the world look so much different, my mum who always seemed way taller than me, now stood barely a head over me. The young boy, who I barely glanced at when I entered, now seemed more interesting to me. As I glanced in the mirror, I twirled in the mirror, totally fascinated by the transformation.
I pranced around the shop, slowly gaining confidence with each step, sashaying across as if I was walking the catwalk. My mum was so thrilled that I seemed to be a natural in the heels. As she paid for the shoes, I kept my new heels, deciding to spend the rest of the day practising my new walk.

It changed my life forever those seemingly insignificant pair of shoes. From a shy introverted, hiding in the shadows girl I bloomed into a graceful swan. The added height injected newfound confidence and energy; I had never known I had within.
Gone were the tomboyish girl and sneaker days. From my trainee heels I soon upgraded to spiky stiletto, gracefully traipsing hallways, pathways and even pavements with style and confidence.

Never underestimate the power of small things that can change your life. Do not turn down a new challenge and open yourself to experiences for it just might be your fairytale waiting to happen.

“A shoe can change one’s life, just look at Cinderella!”

a song that brings your memory to life ...

2009-10-29T17:26:00.002+02:00

Where there�s a right, there is no wrong
I always thought we were so strong
But our time just flew right by
There wasn�t a chance to say goodbye
I�m so confused, I feel so alone
Deep in my heart I know Allah has called you home�home

But yet, your smile, still lingers in my mind
And yet, it�s so hard, I just break down and cry
I remember your eyes found a way to melt my heart
Most of all I remember, I remember your smile
Most of all, I remember, I remember your smile
[ www.thenasheedlyrics.com ]

Sometimes I lie awake at night
The pain in my heart I just can�t fight
Why did you have to go away?
Yet I know none of us can stay
You�ll always be, so special to me
In this world you�ll always live as a memory

Words and Melody by Zain Bhikha

i remember your smile

2009-10-29T16:50:00.003+02:00

its been 40 days and a little more , yet each time I hear the Nasheed " Remember your Smile" , an image of her smile flits into my mind. That huge infectious smile, that always hinted at the mischievesnuss that lurked beneath the surface waiting to bubble out. That smile that twinkled in her eye and came from her heart and that smile that embraced us all, from the very first moment she walked into our lives at 16.

A young girl that won the heart of every person who had the oppurtunity of being in her presence, she touched the life of every person who she in contact with in some way.Her bubbliness barely containing all that energy she held within, never walking but running through life as if she knew how quickly she would be called home.

Time spent with her was never boring, but a mini adventure that could make a simple task of grocery shopping me am exciting expedition full of laughter and brimming with a sense of "whats next".

The last images I hold of her are so contradictory,making it even more disheartining; a still body, vacant eyes, machine blinking, sterile air and tubes everywhere, yet even in that image, her personality shon through.

The hot pink scarf on her head, the huge smile of recognition as she slipped back to conciousness,and the kiss she gifted us with on our last visit, a little trickle of hope she gave us to hold on to in those last few days.

A mother of 3 and barely mid 20, she embraced her role woth passion and dedication though never ceasing to live life to the fullest. Her ending seems fitting to the person she was , a mother and wife first and foremost.

* this post is dedicated to Zaynoneesa Gori - a wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend and so much more. May your qabr be filled with noor and May allah grant your children and husband the strenght to carry on .

a month with so many lessons

2009-09-29T14:06:00.003+02:00

its been a wile since I blogged, and no its not because i have loss the enthusiasm that I started this blog.. far from it .. its just that reality took prevalence over the virtual reality. The month of Ramadaan this year, entered with all the excitement, energy and happiness as expected , not just becaused it ushered in the most anxiously awaited month in the Islamic calender or signalled the begining of the Ramadaan broadcast. Little did we know that this Ramadaan we were going to brought more lessons than we could ever have learnt our entire lives.

The first Taraweeh began with the awaiting of a new life been ushered in and the first sehri with a news of a new life. yep a new edition to our ever growing clan, little did we know that this new life was a signal of an end for another. the balancing of the equilibrium of nature.

this ramadaan would also be remembered as the saddest ramadaan to date. the mother of my newly born nephew had slipped into coma after delivering ( natural health cause, negligence on the part of the doctor, only Allah really knows) and for the better part of Ramadaan, our attention was focussed on mother and son.

Like that first sehri, we were awaked yet again almost 20 days later to the mews she had taken a bad turn and just as suhoor ended, Allah called her home.

A 24 yr old mom to 4 kids, a daughter , wife, sister and friend was gone...

her death affected those around her terribly aswell as does that had never met and had just heard her stroy. FRom a young 2o something, to a mother with her kids, husbands and mothers.

another death that shook me to the core, was the loss of a loved one by a freind of mine, her loss made me imagine myself in her situation and wether i would have the strenght to carry on aswell as made me appreciate my significant other (master jack i LOve u )

a lesson that flows through the month was appreciating every minute , be it of that month or off life befor it i taken away from , coz we never if tomorow will ever come..

Sieze the Day, Live Life each moment , and all the other catch phrases that flow from our tongue are easy to say but do we really take heed of them until life slaps up in the face with reality and reminds up of our final abode...

"Every soul shall taste death" , another reminder that this month brought, you never to young to die , so begin preparing today

With LOve and Dua'as

ahlun wasahlan Ya Ramadaan

2009-08-22T13:45:00.002+02:00

RAmadaan 1430 has finally dawned upon, after much anticipation , preperation and anxiousness.LAst night after years, we went out to search for the Ramadaan moon and form our back yard saw the crescent with our bare eyes. The emotions that coursed through me, words would not do justice, for that crescent symbolises the month our heart yearns for.

The hilaal of Ramadaan has been sighted,
The crescent glistening for all to see,
Ramadaan is here
The little ones scream…

Farewell Shaitaan…
Farewell Evil One…
Our Rabb has shackled you this month
No more waswassah
No more plotting against mother and son
Oh Allah, Ahad, You are One…

Tears of happiness pouring down her face
The mother raises her hand and weeps
To the oneness of Allah, do I testify. . .
All praise be to him, who gives life and causes death…
For without him, this day I would never see…
Thank you Allah…

The breeze of sukoon is present in the air
The feeling of love trickles through the hearts
Brotherhood, unity, togetherness
This is truly Ramadaan

A new timetable is drawn
Special schedule will be followed
Suhur, iftaar, taraweeh, tahajjud. . .
Oh Allah, give me strength to fulfill it all

Every object has its cleaner
Every skin type has its cleanser
For a Muslim we have something unique
Fasting is the detergent for the hearts impurities
Ramadaan is the washing machine for the believer
So let us emerge as cleansed Ummati!

Travel Islam ...

2009-08-05T23:21:00.002+02:00

"We live in a wonderful world that is full of beauty, charm and adventure. There is no end to the adventures we can have if only we seek them with our eyes open.” - Jawaharial Nehru

As we start the second half of the year, many of us are busy planning our next adventure, booking flights, finding accommodation and searching out the sights to see at your destination of choice. For those still confused and puzzling with atlas, don’t despair, this article will take you on a magic carpet ride, to a faraway place that just might be your next touchdown.
Buckle up and prepare for take off! Our first stop is an ancient and mysterious place at the foot of Sierra Nevada in Andalusia in the south of Spain. Home to the magnificent Alhambra, considered by some to be one of the 10 wonders of the world. Granada, a city in Spain a country weaved together by tales of the magnificent final flourish of Islamic conquering.
Granada is best known for its fascinating Moorish old quarter, the labyrinthine Albaicin, with its secluded inner gardens, and 14th-century palace, the architecturally stunning Alhambra. A Muslim city until it fell to the Christians in 1492; it seems to be rediscovering its North African heritage – with a recently opened Islamic Centre
On e of Spain’s major tourist attractions, The Alhambra, the Arabic attempt to create heaven on earth, is a massive castle constructed over many centuries. Home to many Arabic sultans, it consists of gardens, fortifications, and sumptuous palaces. Visitors to the Alhambra fortress-palace in Granada have for centuries fallen into a reverie before it’s intricately carved medieval walls, wondering at the meaning of the Arabic inscriptions that adorn them from floor to ceiling.
Another sight not to miss while in Granada is The Albaicín, the old Arabic quarter located on the hill opposite the Alhambra. It is characterised by cobble stoned streets with white washed houses still retaining a strong Arabic feeling. The Albaicín is an oil painter's paradise and almost at every turn of the head there is an attractive view, most involving glimpses of the Alhambra.

While you there, don’t forget to try out the Aljibe de San Miguel Banos Arabes, a relaxing Arab spa for that pure Moorish experience.

If mystical places, history, culture and aesthetic beauty is what you next vacation calls for, Granada Spain awaits you . . . Till the next take off. . . I am your Pilot...

In celeberation of 'Shaheeda Hijab'

2009-07-14T22:17:00.016+02:00

As a muslimah what defines you, what sets u apart from the rest, what makes you stand out and even ridiculed? what is the most debated and controversial piece of garment in the West.. Not the bikini that for sure, but the hijab. A mere piece of cloth that is revered by many, the same cloth that is shunned by some and the very same piece of chastity that many, Muslim included, view as an agent of oppression. A barrier to reality and a end of one’s life if it’s donned. This hijab has been ripped, burned, thrashed and flung, and yet again it has been hurt.

This hijab has become soiled, with the blood of an innocent victim, a woman who defied the stereotype of a Hijabi, a professional, outspoken and an advocate for her rights. ..MARWA EL SHERBINI.

Have you heard of Marwa El Sherbini,
Or is it just another name to?
Did your r screen flash with the breaking news,
Or is her story still waiting in a queue?
DO you have a moment to hear her tale,
Or would you rather check your mail?

The Facts : Marwa Sherbini was murdered in a courtroom during a case in which she had sued her killer after he called her a “terrorist” due to her wearing her headscarf. The murderer appealed against his fine, and during the hearing stabbed Ms Sherbini 18 times.

To the world, Marwa is another statistic of islamaphobia, another number in the casualty this war on Islam has claimed but to me she is the hijab martyr!
She was a human being, like me and you, a 32 year old pregnant women, a mother to a three year old boy, a wife, sister, daughter... A pharmacist, a Hijabi and most of all my sister in Islam.. a muslimah!

A woman to be celebrated not mourned and, a story to be remembered not forgotten. Let her death not be another catalyst to fuel anger into violence but a means of motivation for the down trodden to stand up and let their voices be heard.

With the media attention focusing on the headscarf and the abolishing of this act so dear to Our Lord, one would have expected to have heard this story, but truth be told many have heard but a vague interpretation or a very condensed version of the event.

This incident seems like something straight out an action movie. A few days ago a suspect was allowed to enter a court with a weapon, this minor discrepancy led to a women been stabbed numerous time in broad daylight. In the eight minutes it took for him to butcher her, the so-called security did little to intervene other than to shoot the one person who tried to save her, her husband.

What has happened to the worlds, when a suspect is allowed into the house of law armed? Where was the security checks, the body searches was it overlooked because he did not have facial hear or was it because his head was not covered.

Not in sadness, but in honour is Marwa remembered as 'Shaheeda Hijab' she stood up for what many of us overlook, ignore and defy. She stood up to bring honour back to the Hijab, to strip the connotation of ‘terrorist’ from this garment which is so symbolic to a religion of peace and to not allow herself to be trampled by an ignorant society. To many she has become the face of Islamaphobia, the growing prejudice and discrimination against Islam or Muslims.

To understand the events that took place, one has to rewind a year back and understand the chain of events that led to the massacre of a Muslimah.
Source: http://muslimmatters.org/2009/07/10/marwa-sherbini-the-hijab-martyr/

Marwa Sherbini, 33 and her husband Elwy Ali Okaz had been living in Dresden, Germany for Elwy’s scholarship at the famed Max-Planck Institute for Physics. While Elwy was wrapping up his 3-year scholarship, with his thesis due in the coming days, Marwa was raising her three year-old son. She was also three months pregnant with her second child.

The horrifying chain of events began with a small but significant event. Last summer, Marwa had taken her son to a park and while there, she found a young German man on the play-swing. She requested him to give the swing up for her 3-year old. The man’s reaction was bitter, resorting to unprovoked verbal abuse– calling her an “Islamist”, a “terrorist” and worse. Marwa, unlike so many others who face this everyday across the world, did not stay silent, and with her husband’s full support, took him to court over the incident.

A trial ensued and a District court found the German man (identified in some reports as Alex A.) guilty and fined him 780 €. The hateful Islamophobe murderer-to-be filed an appeal, and this hearing was being held last Wednesday. Here it is where the deadly assault took place. Just as Marwa had finished her testimony, the attacker moved across the courtroom and stabbed her – not once but eighteen times! EIGHTEEN TIMES.

Marwa’s husband, Elwi Okaz, made a desperate attempt to save his wife but a policeman’s bullet hit him (accidentally), and he collapsed, unable to rescue Marwa. All the while, the young son was witnessing this butchery. If one were to imagine this scenario that unfolded in the courtroom, it would truly be sickening and despicable.

One would expect such a horrific incident to have caused an international stir of catastrophic proportions, ironic enough we see the complete opposite. An eerie silence, a hush of taboo topic permeates the media air and instead of seeing the face of the murderer splashed across the front page and our screen flashing with repeat clips of the ghastly act we were bombarded with tributes to the Legends who had died of natural causes.

Had the shoe been on the other feet, the world would have came to a standstill as the breaking news was churned into the media machines, a war would have been declared, the murderer would have tried and sentenced already and his face would have stared at us from every nook and cranny.. Where is this freedom we speak off and which is is the justice that we stand for, because from the view I have our freedom is a twisted term that is constantly evolving and justice is a slippery word that stands closer to discrimination with every day!

Let Marwa’s tale not be forgotten like the heroes of yesteryear, but her struggle, her end be celebrated and in our dua’as may she always live.

RIP Marwa al-Sherbini. Allah Bless You! Unfortunately, if the situation was reversed, way more people would have heard about this atrocity

jiLLs ObservaTion #1

2009-07-06T16:41:00.001+02:00

Indian mums Have the most colourful vocabulary!!

MusLimahs MaKing SomE NoiSE!!!

2009-07-03T23:58:00.005+02:00

Sophie Ashraf, also known as The Burkha Rapper, is an Indian Muslim female rapper for whom Muslim identity seems central to her art. This comes across clearly in her following statement on the Blind Boys website:

Its like when you really like a band, you wear T-shirts of that band, Well we really, really like Islam, so we wear the burkha. I rap because I cant sing. But I love music, so it had to be rap. Soon, the burkha and the rap formed an identity of itself, and people started recognizing me as the burkha rapper. The Justice Rocks Concert was the first platform where I felt the setting and the timing was right to talk about Islam. The Mumbai attack had just happened and everyone was waiting for a proactive Muslim to come out and say what Islam was about. I was just blown away by the response. There are those who are not convinced about the burkha, sure. Now that we wear it, we feel empty without it, naked. There is a line in the quran that says, “To you, your religion, and to me mine”. And so they are letting me express myself the way I want to. People tend to think that someone who tries to be different and someone who breaks the rules are the same. I work within the rules, but I find those little loopholes that allow me to do my thing. There is this cool anime (Japenese animation) called The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya in which the entire world is made just to amuse her, the main character. Sometimes i feel the world is created just to amuse me. Because things, mashaallah always go right.

The story is accompanied by pictures.

Deconstructing Ashraf’s words makes it obvious that the burqa is central to her work and image.

I have to admit though that my first reaction to the pictures was, “That’s not a burqa!” This looks nothing like the burqa I would form out of my mother’s dupattas as a child while playing “grown up.” Nor does it look like the burqa Muslim heroines in Bollywood films would wear. Nor does it look like the net burqa native to the NWFP of Pakistan. What we see Ashraf wearing in the pictures looks nothing like traditional South Asian burqas do. I suspect one of two possible things happening here.

The first could be an appropriation of the West’s inaccurate and generic notion of the burqa. It is almost as if, rather than challenge the inaccuracy in views of the burqa, this inaccurate view has been accepted and perpetuated. The second possibility is the further Arabization of South Asian culture. What we actually see Ashraf wearing is the Middle Eastern hijab and abaya, a recent import into South Asia, not something native to the region. As abaya is a foreign term, and burqa a native one, what seems to have happened is foreign attire has been given a familiar name, thus making it more palatable to locals. Think of that what you will.

However, speculation aside, the purposeful use of this “burqa” is not hidden in Ashraf’s quote.

Well we really, really like Islam, so we wear the burkha.

Here we see Islam being positioned as a superstar of sorts worthy of having worshiping fans. The donning of the “burkha” by Ashraf, and those like her, has been for the purposes to support her religion, to demonstrate an allegiance, admiration, respect, and desire to emulate Islam. The analogy is young and fun and would be one that would easily attract a younger Muslim population.

Image via BlindBoys.

…the burkha and the rap formed an identity of itself, and people started recognizing me as the burkha rapper.

Ashraf’s music and words come from her Muslim identity. From this quote, it is clear that for her the “burkha”, which is a symbol in for Islam itself, and her rapping have become one and cannot be separated. Her art is inevitably shaped by her religion and her religion, perhaps, by her art.

The burqa has also become a platform via which Ashraf has had the opportunity to speak about Islam.

The Mumbai attack had just happened and everyone was waiting for a proactive Muslim to come out and say what Islam was about.

Ashraf’s donning of the “burkha” while rapping has brought her religion to the forefront, which consequently has placed her in a position to represent Islam. And this position is considered to be an active one by Ashraf, as demonstrated by her use of the word “proactive.” As Ashraf has made Islam central to her work, her proactivity as a Muslim has been established.

There are those who are not convinced about the burkha, sure. Now that we wear it, we feel empty without it, naked. There is a line in the quran that says, “To you, your religion, and to me mine”. And so they are letting me express myself the way I want to.

Ashraf recognizes an opposition to the “burkha”–however, no force or compulsion is stated, either for or against wearing it. In fact, a level of comfort permeates through this comment – a physical comfort wearing the “burkha” but also an expressive comfort – a comfort Ashraf feels in being able to express her Muslim-ness and an acceptance she experiences from those around her.

Finally, this final comment demonstrates an intelligent and active engagement with Islam.

People tend to think that someone who tries to be different and someone who breaks the rules are the same. I work within the rules, but I find those little loopholes that allow me to do my thing.

Ashraf shows a comfort with Islam and her knowledge of what she does and does not feel she can follow. This comment demonstrates that Ashraf is actively negotiating with Islam, trying to decipher for herself what Islam means to her, all the while keeping Islam as central to her work.

Overall, Ashraf comes across as a confident, self-aware and active Muslim woman, who uses Islam to shape her life and work and places Islam in a central position in her life. Her desire to defend Islam and present it in a manner true to her beliefs is apparent. It seems she may be a force to reckon with.
http://bit.ly/s80uV

JiLL's PerCoLater #1

2009-07-03T19:58:00.007+02:00

Marriage Before Maturity ..
or Maturity before Marriage ??

How To Live ThroUgh another Long Que ..

2009-06-24T21:43:00.003+02:00

after enduring a looong afternoon sitting in a never ending que @ the SARS office a few days ago I decided on creating a list of things I would carry along if I had 2 sit through another Unisa, Sars, home affairs or licencing line ever again and go to insanity and beyond..

* water or some liquid - itl save u from fainting from dehydration
* deodrant - it sure gets stuffy and hot in the overcrowded un-airconned area and the smells can become a little overbearing especially if the occupant in the seat next to you never bathed in awhile
*snacks - sitting around doing nothing can make you pretty hungry
*fully charged cellphone - nice time to catch up with friends or read ur emails.
* ipod- background music never did anybody any harm
* book or magazine - if you a book worm carry along that book u been dying to read , u sure to reach the end of the book, faster than the end of the line
*comfy pillow - unfortunately the seats are not always comfy for your bottoms, which tend to go numb after 2 much sitting, so a throw cushion would make you comfy..

happy lolling aroung

till the next time the fingers dance

#n AcTiOn ... In Sport News ...

2009-06-22T02:06:00.006+02:00

after overdosing on a little to much SS- channel watching I decided to try my hand @ sport news 4 d 1st time.. lemme know wat u tink

An InterEstiNg LiNe Up Of SpoRt TOday With the t20 FinaLs out In LonDon And oN hOme GroUnd THe ConFeDeraTion Cup Is KEePinG eVerybOdy On tHe EdGe oF thEIr Seat, VuvuZeLa In HaNd.. TakiNg a LooK at ResuLts For THe Evening

ON the SoCCeR FieLd, We Say a Sad FAreWeLL 2 D PharoaHz aFter They LoSt THeir GAme 3 NiL To USa.Usa Won TheiR FiRst MatCh in THE ConFEd Cup cLaimiNg an UnLuckY Spot In tHe Semi FiNaLs..

On a HaPPier Note BraZiL MaDe D ItaLianOs SamBa 2Nite WiT dosSena ScORinG TheiR oWn GoaL in a BriLIant 3 GoaLz in 7 minutes pLayOFf!! a Word of WaRnInG to BafaNa, Who pLay BraZiL Next in The FirsT Semi FInaLs - Be afrAid, BE VEry AfraiD!

iN Other SpORt.. AweSome Afridi Led PakIStan 2 t20 TitLE..PakiStaN deFeaTed SRi LaNka By eIgHt wIcKeTs 2 cLaIm tHeIr FiRsT mAjOr tItLe iN 17YeaRs!

whiLe On d RaCe TraCks ItZ FareWeLL 2 SilverStone aS VeTTeL FLEw 2 VicTry 4 ReD buLL AT The BriTIsH Gp.

And OVer The NEts IN the TenniS CouRts , Venu WilliAms Is ChaSInG HEr SixTh WimbLEDOn ..

Datz It 4rM d SpOrTS DEsK 2Nite..Good Nyt!..
TiLL d NExt WhisTLe BLOws...Im D JILL Of ALL TraDEs!xoxo

TriBuTe 2 D UnceLebRaTed SuPeR Hero..

2009-06-21T13:08:00.006+02:00

F-a-T-H-e-r ...
4 consonants and 2 vowels that together create a noun. a title given to the one half of the parental unit. The dictionary defines father as the male parent but this modest definition does not do justice to explaining who a father is. He is more than a donor of a sperm,the supplier of half your DNA and much more than another chromosome in the gene pool.

Dad,Pa,daDDy, Pappa, Abba just another name for a superhero in your everyday life. When you were little, he was the one you called, to chase away the monsters lurking under your bed. He came to rescue when the big bad kids picked on you, making you smile and realise you worth so much more. When you screamed in terror at the dragons crawling on your floor, he was there to squash them. He gave you your first view of the world when he made you fly so you could touch the sky and see what little eyes miss from below.

As you grew up he patiently answered your curious questions, becoming your walking encyclopedia on every subject. He was your cheerleader as you learnt to cycle, your handy man when you broke your favorite toy. The paramedic when you tripped and scraped your knee and the storyteller on the history of you.

Now he has become your shadow, always 2 steps behind you to allow you to assume your independence, yet not far away for him not to hear your shout. He watches from his vantage point like a bodyguard of a precious stone, allowing others to bask in its wonder but not allowing them to get to close.

This is a tribute to the uncelebrated heroes that create everyday stunts with no body doubles, safety harness or retakes. here 2 d dads that through tears and smile never stopped loving us ..

# TaKe 2

2009-06-20T10:48:00.005+02:00

After allot of deliberation and careful consideration and allot of persuasion.... finally! I have decided to try my hand at blogging once again.. In life everything deserves a second chance , blogging included. so here it goes..

If you going to be probing into the deep crevices of my grey matter i think we should be introduced.. Who I am is a question that has no simple answer, its a complex subject which could have an array of different responses. Who I am could refer to name there have tagged to themselve, ones gender, religious or political views or what stereotype they attach to their myself.

To know who am i .. one would have to UnRaVeL My DNa, DiSseCt My ChrOmoSomeS, AnALyze My GeNes.. 4 The SeCreTs Of Me..

" Like a fingerprint that is unique 2 Me alone, who we r,
r Like snowflakes 4rm d sky... each are unique and different,
in some stubble way ,we might share similar traits, psychical appearance,but deep within there is someting that makes 1 stand out in a crowd.
2 truly explain who i am,id have 2 dwell deep within my DNA,
and unravel d strands that make up my genes...
I am ME!
d only person I can b!
D person that Lives 2day, was there yesterday
and
will enjoy tomorrow.
D only person resp0nsibLe 4 my failures n achievements, d holder of my dreams n d 1 2 ride d magic carpet n make them reality.
D person who looks back @ me
4rm d mirror, d 1 who walks coconfidently towardz d future...
this is WHO I AM! "

As sweet as honey as Sour as lemon... two extremes that lie on opposites ends and between them lies me... the scale of balance.. introvert yet an extrovert.. I live inside my head in a world of colour and drama... Underestimated and somewhat unpredictable...I fly on the wings of a butterfly gently pulled along with the wind an other time i fight against the tide crashing around me... a bundle of contradictions and heap of cliches mix togeather n ME u Create...

now that you have a vague idea of who this jill of all trades , the madam thinks we shud move on ..

till my fingers dance across the keyboard again...
peace
xoxo