September 3, 2010
I’ve been trying to do itikaf (seclusion) for the last ten days of Ramadan. It’s a modified version. Basically I stay inside during the day and read Quran, make extra salat, etc. At night I go to the verandah or the roof to catch a breeze or two. It is exceedingly hot here. People warned me, but you don’t know until you experience it yourself. I am learning the real meaning of fasting this year by experiencing the heat and other limitations.
Asad has rented a beautiful home here. It has seven rooms, a verandah and a flat roof, which comes in very handy in this kind of weather. There is an abundance of marble in Pakistan, so all the floors and even the kitchen countertop are made of marble. So is the verandah, which has a nice pattern of tiles. Our kitchen came with a six burner gas stove. We purchased a used refrigerator and that allowed us to move out the military cantonment and into our home. There are ceiling fans in every room. We have not purchased an air conditioner due to the expense. With the doors open for circulation, the fans do a decent job, especially if you don’t move much! Of course, one can count on at least two power outages for load shifting and any number of other ones during the day or night. That’s when you really feel the heat. I expect I’m losing several pounds due to sweat. I put salt in my water at suhoor time to help prevent dehydration. I am much more interested in water than in food when I break my fast. We have fruit chat (salad) and pakoras most of the time. We may or may not eat dinner later. Sometimes we just save that for suhoor, which comes at about 3:15 AM. Prayer is at 4:15, so we are fasting from 4:15 to about 6:45, fourteen hours a day.
I’ve met a few people, Asad’s close friends and associates. Tahera is one of his nieces. She’s about 28 years old. She lives with us and is doing her itikaf here also. However, her itikaf is ten times more serious and structured than mine. She is basically sequestered in the room for ten days, reading Quran, doing her prayers and tasbih, dua, darud,(various types of devotion). She will finish the Quran several times this way. We leave her food at the door for iftar and suhoor. She will see or talk to nobody during this time, except Allah (SWT).
Tahera has been a God-send to me. She is the only other woman around, for one thing, and she has tried to make things easy for me. She purchased cloth to make me two silwar chamises,(Pakistani clothing) took my samples to the tailor and had the whole thing, including my Eid clothes done in a few days. She also provided bed sheets and bought a quilt when we didn’t have one.
Asad is Tahera’s guardian. Her father, a well known imam, passed away a few years ago. They had been very close and she was grief stricken. She had been married twice but both marriages ended badly, and she lost her only child and her sister as well. She has two brothers who are busy with lives of their own and have no room in their households
She had been working as a maid and living with her employer, but now she lives with us and takes care of the cooking, cleaning and laundry. Asad is trying to help her get an I.D. card, something essential in Pakistan to having any rights at all. However, many people, especially the poor, don’t have these cards. During Ramadan, the agency that prints the cards has been on strike because the government hasn’t paid them, so the cards of thousands of people are on hold. Once Tahera gets her card, she will probably get a job at the airport as a cleaner or a porter. That would be a big step up for her.
God was so kind to have blessed me with a fourth daughter here in Pakistan, same name and age as my Tahera back home!
This is a new home in an established village called Chatta Baktower. But the name is being changed to Park View town, probably to attract a certain crowd. It is a very nice location because it is not in the city, neither Rawalpindi, nor Islamabad, but is a suburb of both. There is a wonderful farm house behind us, where an extended family lives. Their buildings are painted a cheerful red and white checkerboard design. They have a beautiful green lawn and many thriving plants, including grove of orange trees. The other houses around are not as nice, kind of ramshackle. However, real estate developers are buying the land in this area and building wonderful homes for those who can afford them. Just one block over, on Greens Avenue, all the homes are new and elegant. They are owned by doctors and professors, as stated on the name plates. Many of these people have new cars as well.
One thing I like very much about these homes, and the one we are renting as well, is the gated entrances. Each home has a large gate that opens on to the driveway and a smaller one to walk through. These gates are made of metal and are beautifully designed with grillwork, flowers and other motifs. The gates and walls in front of the homes allow for privacy when sitting outside in the evenings. We do that almost every night, eating our meals, drinking tea and entertaining guests.
The flat roof is also a very nice feature. In August and early September, that was the coolest spot to be in the evening. It also affords a nice view of the village and the surrounding towns. On the horizon are the Margalla Hills. They enclose Islamabad to the northeast. The stars and moon, sitare and chand in Urdu are also more beautiful from the roof.
Life can be very comfortable in Pakistan for those with money. There is a great divide between rich and poor, with a slowly growing tiny middle class. Unemployment is very high and most people live hand to mouth, not knowing where their next meal is coming from. It takes 500 rupees to buy a few days’ food for one person, about $4.00.
Monday, September 20, 2010
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
August 27, 2010
West Ridge Cantonment, Rawalpindi, Pakistan
Asalamu alaykum and Ramadan Kareem to all. I hope things are well with you and your families. I am having a wonderful experience here in Pakistan. Every day brings something new. Since I arrived last week, my husband and I having been trying to figure out the best way to distribute the zakat monies all of you have donated for flood relief. Alhamdulilah, I am happy to inform you that the bulk of the money was distributed today directly to eight needy families, seven in Rawalpindi and one in Haripur.
I’ve learned that many areas of the country were affected by the flood and the usual August monsoons as well. For example, in a very poor section of Rawalpindi called Lai, the water and sewer system is basically an open drain. Every seven years or so, it overflows, completely polluting the city water supply. This year, the water came up as high as the first floor shops and homes. People were ordered to evacuate their homes, but were given no assistance in finding shelter.
After a bit of research, we found out it would be both risky and nearly impossible to go directly to an area like Nowshera, which had gotten a lot of media coverage. Other areas of the country much closer to where I’m now staying have been equally affected by natural disaster and the general plight of the poor. Unemployment rates are sky high and the prices of everything from food to furniture are high when you consider the average person’s living. One lady we met was a widow raising three children on her salary of 7,000 rupees (rs) a month, which is about $83.00. The cost of basic sustenance food per person per day is about 130 rs and that is plain vegetable curry with no meat or even an egg and about 4 rotis.
We had some local friends direct us to some of the families hardest hit when the sewer overflowed into their neighborhood a month ago. We found several families living in tents on top of the mud and rubble of the city. One group of three sisters and their mom had about 20 children between them, most of them girls. Their husbands work as porters in the local market which was also flooded of course. The youngest sister had been set to get married, but most of her dowry was washed away by the flood. We gave 75,000 rs to this group.
Among their neighbors four widows, one with school age children and none with livable homes. They were given 55,000, 45,000 and 35,000 rs, depending on their immediate needs.
The balance of the donation monies is being given to two other destitute families in Haripur and Gharibabad district in Rawalpindi who will get 35,000 and 45,000 repectively. One of man is a widower with three children and the other supports and extended family and is the only wage earner for them. He is going to open business as a denter (someone who removes dents from car fenders, etc.) with the money he received.
If the amounts given seem large to you, please keep the exchange rate in mind. It fluctuates daily but seems to stay between 85.20 and 84.05 rs per dollar. The total amount distributed was 374,000 rs, or $4,400.
West Ridge Cantonment, Rawalpindi, Pakistan
Asalamu alaykum and Ramadan Kareem to all. I hope things are well with you and your families. I am having a wonderful experience here in Pakistan. Every day brings something new. Since I arrived last week, my husband and I having been trying to figure out the best way to distribute the zakat monies all of you have donated for flood relief. Alhamdulilah, I am happy to inform you that the bulk of the money was distributed today directly to eight needy families, seven in Rawalpindi and one in Haripur.
I’ve learned that many areas of the country were affected by the flood and the usual August monsoons as well. For example, in a very poor section of Rawalpindi called Lai, the water and sewer system is basically an open drain. Every seven years or so, it overflows, completely polluting the city water supply. This year, the water came up as high as the first floor shops and homes. People were ordered to evacuate their homes, but were given no assistance in finding shelter.
After a bit of research, we found out it would be both risky and nearly impossible to go directly to an area like Nowshera, which had gotten a lot of media coverage. Other areas of the country much closer to where I’m now staying have been equally affected by natural disaster and the general plight of the poor. Unemployment rates are sky high and the prices of everything from food to furniture are high when you consider the average person’s living. One lady we met was a widow raising three children on her salary of 7,000 rupees (rs) a month, which is about $83.00. The cost of basic sustenance food per person per day is about 130 rs and that is plain vegetable curry with no meat or even an egg and about 4 rotis.
We had some local friends direct us to some of the families hardest hit when the sewer overflowed into their neighborhood a month ago. We found several families living in tents on top of the mud and rubble of the city. One group of three sisters and their mom had about 20 children between them, most of them girls. Their husbands work as porters in the local market which was also flooded of course. The youngest sister had been set to get married, but most of her dowry was washed away by the flood. We gave 75,000 rs to this group.
Among their neighbors four widows, one with school age children and none with livable homes. They were given 55,000, 45,000 and 35,000 rs, depending on their immediate needs.
The balance of the donation monies is being given to two other destitute families in Haripur and Gharibabad district in Rawalpindi who will get 35,000 and 45,000 repectively. One of man is a widower with three children and the other supports and extended family and is the only wage earner for them. He is going to open business as a denter (someone who removes dents from car fenders, etc.) with the money he received.
If the amounts given seem large to you, please keep the exchange rate in mind. It fluctuates daily but seems to stay between 85.20 and 84.05 rs per dollar. The total amount distributed was 374,000 rs, or $4,400.
Sunday, August 15, 2010
update
Okay, its one month later and soooo much has happened! I'm on my way to Pakistan tomorrow for three months! Will try to write from there, a sort of journal perhaps. Book has been on hold b/c of moving house, etc. Check back later.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
book
Not sure of a title yet. Maybe QF's Journey or The Heart's Trajectory. Have decided it must be in the first person. Am trying to write it all down and then edit out what caan't be made public, or is possibly too boring. Have gotten up to my children's births. Organization is a challenge. Do you just go chronological or in terms of topic or some other pattern? Any suggestions? I'd love to hear from some of you! Here's part of a chapter:
THE IRANIANS
The ‘78-79 school year began with me at NYU. I was due to graduate in June but would end up needing another half year. I worked part time in a 57th Street gallery and attended classes downtown. I lived with a roomate on 24th St, midway between my two main locations and could walk or take the train. I’d walk if the weather was good and I had enough tiome. It beat the sweat and smells of the subway!
Besides, my walks had a higher purpose lately. They showed me God’s beautiful sky, painted with a different palette each morning. They afforded me time to memorize some of the Arabic prayers I wanted to learn, and their meanings in English. I knew now that God existed and it was only a matter of time before I committed myself to Him.
A few months earlier, a group of students in Iran had taken over the American embassy and held its residents hostage. This was an earth shattering event. No one had ever dared touch an American on any soil. We were the richest, most powerful, most democratic nation on earth.
How dare anyone mess with us? I thought, along with all my countrymen and women. I agreed when presidential candidate Ronald Reagan called the Iranian people barbarians.
The student club fair was held in booths outside the buildings on West 4th Street. I knew there was a Muslim Students’ Association on campus and wanted to find their booth. When I did, I realized all the people there were foreign and asked which countries they came from. There were a few guys from the gulf states, but the majority of them (there were no women present that she knew of) were from Iran. Iran! That traitor state who were holding our people hostage and blindfolded! Anger was rising in her throat but I swallowed it and said, I think your politics stink. But tell me about your religion. A few of the guys chuckled softly to themselves but one of them smiled warmly and said, What would you like to know?
I had many questions, and got the opportunity to ask them over the next few weeks. The Muslim brothers, as they called themselves, invited me to dinner in the school cafeteria and to political rallies uptown at Columbia University. I quickly learned all about the Iranian revolution, Khomeini and his call for an Islamic revival. I met their wives and sisters; strong, fearless girls who believed wholeheartedly in their cause and supported it even from inside enemy territory.
One of the women took a motherly interest in me. Farzaneh came to know that I lived in my own apartment with a roommate and went out on the weekends to parties and other gatherings where there were drugs, alcohol and the whole range of what was available to twenty somethings on the NY social scene. She was concerned and began asking me to come to her apartment in Queens for the weekend. I was curious about how this Muslim woman lived, so I went.
Farzaneh’s Queens apartment was clean, neat and organized. Her furnishings were simple and functional. The overall impression was of a very clean place. Shoes were left at the door and sandals were worn in the bathroom but nowhere else. Meals were eaten on a white tablecloth spread upon the floor. Friends from school often gathered there. After eating, Farzaneh was careful to pick up every crumb that might have strayed to the carpet and then to vacuum as well. She lived alone and seemed happy about that. When I walked into her place, I felt that holiness I’d felt long ago in the temple..ah that elusive feeling was back! I made a mental note to herself about finding and keeping that kind of peace in my life.
THE IRANIANS
The ‘78-79 school year began with me at NYU. I was due to graduate in June but would end up needing another half year. I worked part time in a 57th Street gallery and attended classes downtown. I lived with a roomate on 24th St, midway between my two main locations and could walk or take the train. I’d walk if the weather was good and I had enough tiome. It beat the sweat and smells of the subway!
Besides, my walks had a higher purpose lately. They showed me God’s beautiful sky, painted with a different palette each morning. They afforded me time to memorize some of the Arabic prayers I wanted to learn, and their meanings in English. I knew now that God existed and it was only a matter of time before I committed myself to Him.
A few months earlier, a group of students in Iran had taken over the American embassy and held its residents hostage. This was an earth shattering event. No one had ever dared touch an American on any soil. We were the richest, most powerful, most democratic nation on earth.
How dare anyone mess with us? I thought, along with all my countrymen and women. I agreed when presidential candidate Ronald Reagan called the Iranian people barbarians.
The student club fair was held in booths outside the buildings on West 4th Street. I knew there was a Muslim Students’ Association on campus and wanted to find their booth. When I did, I realized all the people there were foreign and asked which countries they came from. There were a few guys from the gulf states, but the majority of them (there were no women present that she knew of) were from Iran. Iran! That traitor state who were holding our people hostage and blindfolded! Anger was rising in her throat but I swallowed it and said, I think your politics stink. But tell me about your religion. A few of the guys chuckled softly to themselves but one of them smiled warmly and said, What would you like to know?
I had many questions, and got the opportunity to ask them over the next few weeks. The Muslim brothers, as they called themselves, invited me to dinner in the school cafeteria and to political rallies uptown at Columbia University. I quickly learned all about the Iranian revolution, Khomeini and his call for an Islamic revival. I met their wives and sisters; strong, fearless girls who believed wholeheartedly in their cause and supported it even from inside enemy territory.
One of the women took a motherly interest in me. Farzaneh came to know that I lived in my own apartment with a roommate and went out on the weekends to parties and other gatherings where there were drugs, alcohol and the whole range of what was available to twenty somethings on the NY social scene. She was concerned and began asking me to come to her apartment in Queens for the weekend. I was curious about how this Muslim woman lived, so I went.
Farzaneh’s Queens apartment was clean, neat and organized. Her furnishings were simple and functional. The overall impression was of a very clean place. Shoes were left at the door and sandals were worn in the bathroom but nowhere else. Meals were eaten on a white tablecloth spread upon the floor. Friends from school often gathered there. After eating, Farzaneh was careful to pick up every crumb that might have strayed to the carpet and then to vacuum as well. She lived alone and seemed happy about that. When I walked into her place, I felt that holiness I’d felt long ago in the temple..ah that elusive feeling was back! I made a mental note to herself about finding and keeping that kind of peace in my life.
Complicated Story
Complicated Story
Today you were a deer in my yard.
A young deer, a faun,
with beautiful, deep brown eyes,
The shining eyes of a horse
With the mischievous glint of a hunter
Promising quite a great ride
I drew him in
And encouraged
With sweet, coaxing words
To let him know how handsome I thought he was
How lovely and how loving!
I praised his absolute beauty and burgeoning power
I told him
You’ll be a horse very soon.
We became friends
I even crossed the neighbor’s yard to reach him
But willed him, foolishly, to turn into You
I wanted so badly for him to come near
that I cried and he ran off.
That’s when I realized
He was you!
Just think of that beautiful riding!
You’d spent all your anger
And earned my repentance.
Then we both got our reward
A wonderful shower of love
To express
The absolute power of love.
7/2/10
Today you were a deer in my yard.
A young deer, a faun,
with beautiful, deep brown eyes,
The shining eyes of a horse
With the mischievous glint of a hunter
Promising quite a great ride
I drew him in
And encouraged
With sweet, coaxing words
To let him know how handsome I thought he was
How lovely and how loving!
I praised his absolute beauty and burgeoning power
I told him
You’ll be a horse very soon.
We became friends
I even crossed the neighbor’s yard to reach him
But willed him, foolishly, to turn into You
I wanted so badly for him to come near
that I cried and he ran off.
That’s when I realized
He was you!
Just think of that beautiful riding!
You’d spent all your anger
And earned my repentance.
Then we both got our reward
A wonderful shower of love
To express
The absolute power of love.
7/2/10
Thursday, June 3, 2010
revision 1
Revised version:
Grab for God!
Reach out and try to grasp Him in your filthy fingers!
Look how He takes His distance from you
with eagle eyed agility!
He who made the birds hop and fly
Can draw you near or push you away
With the warmest hug
Or the coldest fear.
Don’t you know, you do it to yourself
And make Him take the blame
Or you blame shaytan
Even worse!
Who has more ease than a rabbit
Feeding on spilled seeds left by a gluttonous squirrel?
His table is all set!
All creatures eagerly cherish his traces,
Whether they are hunters, prey or both.
We humans like to bury our noses in the fragrance of dewy wildflowers
Perhaps a young fawn can just walk into their midst and laugh with those delicate ladies
So lucky he is!
All creation is showered with
Presents from Him,
They themselves being both rain
And tears
Forms of rahma enjoyed in all the spheres
Or at least the ones I’ve been in
Your experiences may be different
For each sirat is custom made
A work in progress
As we travel this journey
the indefinable All,
Universally Merciful
and
Singularly compassionate.
Everything,
Unity,
HU.
Grab for God!
Reach out and try to grasp Him in your filthy fingers!
Look how He takes His distance from you
with eagle eyed agility!
He who made the birds hop and fly
Can draw you near or push you away
With the warmest hug
Or the coldest fear.
Don’t you know, you do it to yourself
And make Him take the blame
Or you blame shaytan
Even worse!
Who has more ease than a rabbit
Feeding on spilled seeds left by a gluttonous squirrel?
His table is all set!
All creatures eagerly cherish his traces,
Whether they are hunters, prey or both.
We humans like to bury our noses in the fragrance of dewy wildflowers
Perhaps a young fawn can just walk into their midst and laugh with those delicate ladies
So lucky he is!
All creation is showered with
Presents from Him,
They themselves being both rain
And tears
Forms of rahma enjoyed in all the spheres
Or at least the ones I’ve been in
Your experiences may be different
For each sirat is custom made
A work in progress
As we travel this journey
the indefinable All,
Universally Merciful
and
Singularly compassionate.
Everything,
Unity,
HU.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
New poetry. Writing is one of the few activities that can keep me sane on a day when there's a lot to figure out
Grab for God
Reach out and try to grasp Him in your filthy fingers!
Look how He takes His distance from you
With such agility!
He who made the bird hop and fly
can draw you near or push you away
As easily as a rabbit feeds
on spilled seeds left by a gluttonous squirrel
His table is all set!
All creatures trail traces, like the smell of delicate flowers wet with dew
Or sharper scents.
Presents from Him,undefinable All,
Everything, Unity, HU
Grab for God
Reach out and try to grasp Him in your filthy fingers!
Look how He takes His distance from you
With such agility!
He who made the bird hop and fly
can draw you near or push you away
As easily as a rabbit feeds
on spilled seeds left by a gluttonous squirrel
His table is all set!
All creatures trail traces, like the smell of delicate flowers wet with dew
Or sharper scents.
Presents from Him,undefinable All,
Everything, Unity, HU
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