Category Archives: Personal
Lamenting Gaza: Fear, Justice and the Enemy
There was too much anger and I didn’t know how to make sense of it all. I felt no sympathy for the Israelis who claimed suffering and fear–this frightened me. Despite my very committed views on the situation, justice is justice and injustice is injustice. Was I really weighing some human lives as more worthy than others? I fought against this, trying to put people before borders and violent words. But it was hard.
Lamenting Gaza: Fear, Justice and the Enemy
There was too much anger and I didn’t know how to make sense of it all. I felt no sympathy for the Israelis who claimed suffering and fear–this frightened me. Despite my very committed views on the situation, justice is justice and injustice is injustice. Was I really weighing some human lives as more worthy than others? I fought against this, trying to put people before borders and violent words. But it was hard.
On The Eve of Ramadan
There is nothing more important for the sustenance of Islam, other than tawhid and imaan, than the unity of the Ummah. Our current situation in the world proves all the more the importance of this unity, from which we have fallen so quickly away.
On The Eve of Ramadan
There is nothing more important for the sustenance of Islam, other than tawhid and imaan, than the unity of the Ummah. Our current situation in the world proves all the more the importance of this unity, from which we have fallen so quickly away.
Your Framework’s Quite Possibly Problematic, Bro Pt 1: The Progressives
So, I’ve been thinking about Muslim Progressives, lately. And while thinking about them, I’ve been simultaneously thinking about Muslims Traditionalists. I would define Muslim Progressives as those who want to, more or less, re-engage with the texts to deal with contemporary problems that have arisen, in various respects, which the Tradition does not seem to really deal with it, explicitly. These include issues pertaining largely, but certainly not exclusively, to gender…
Your Framework’s Quite Possibly Problematic, Bro Pt 1: The Progressives
So, I’ve been thinking about Muslim Progressives, lately. And while thinking about them, I’ve been simultaneously thinking about Muslims Traditionalists. I would define Muslim Progressives as those who want to, more or less, re-engage with the texts to deal with contemporary problems that have arisen, in various respects, which the Tradition does not seem to really deal with it, explicitly. These include issues pertaining largely, but certainly not exclusively, to gender…
Born-Again Pakistani
After an 11 year absence, I had the chance this past summer to visit the country of my heritage and birth – Pakistan – for two weeks. Albeit brief and as cliche as this is going to sound, I emerged from the experience completely changed. Somewhere along the way, I had completely abandoned a huge part of my identity – my identity as a Pakistani. Somewhere along the way, I had become almost ashamed to be associated with the country and its people. It wasn’t necessarily a conscious effort, but a lingering feel of disassociation strengthened within me over the course of four/five years.
Born-Again Pakistani
After an 11 year absence, I had the chance this past summer to visit the country of my heritage and birth – Pakistan – for two weeks. Albeit brief and as cliche as this is going to sound, I emerged from the experience completely changed. Somewhere along the way, I had completely abandoned a huge part of my identity – my identity as a Pakistani. Somewhere along the way, I had become almost ashamed to be associated with the country and its people. It wasn’t necessarily a conscious effort, but a lingering feel of disassociation strengthened within me over the course of four/five years.
The Interrogation
I easily forget how blessed I am to live in Canada. How blessed I am to be able to actually be free to express myself. How blessed I am to never be treated like a criminal for doing charitable work or attending political rallies. How blessed I am that the word “Palestine” doesn’t illicit the same sort of suspicious glances and aggressive questions from those with authority.
The Interrogation
I easily forget how blessed I am to live in Canada. How blessed I am to be able to actually be free to express myself. How blessed I am to never be treated like a criminal for doing charitable work or attending political rallies. How blessed I am that the word “Palestine” doesn’t illicit the same sort of suspicious glances and aggressive questions from those with authority.
OH. MY. GOD. BECKY.
In the haze of traveling, moving, discovering a new city and baring the humidity of D.C, I completely had lost track of the days until it was brought to my attention that today was Monday, June 7th. In other words,
OH. MY. GOD. BECKY.
In the haze of traveling, moving, discovering a new city and baring the humidity of D.C, I completely had lost track of the days until it was brought to my attention that today was Monday, June 7th. In other words,
[Badly Written] Confessions of a Graduate Student Who Listens to Nujabes
[Alert: early morning ramble which lacks in coherence and quite possibly a point] My first year as a graduate student has come to its official close and truth be told, I still don’t understand what happened during the past eight
[Badly Written] Confessions of a Graduate Student Who Listens to Nujabes
[Alert: early morning ramble which lacks in coherence and quite possibly a point] My first year as a graduate student has come to its official close and truth be told, I still don’t understand what happened during the past eight
Wondering about Kashmir
There are many things that have become a part of me during the past 11 years since I last visited Pakistan, the country of my birth and origin. All memories. Every image, every sound remains as crisp as ever.
There was always an odd stillness in the air whenever the electricity would go out. A stillness which would be…
Wondering about Kashmir
There are many things that have become a part of me during the past 11 years since I last visited Pakistan, the country of my birth and origin. All memories. Every image, every sound remains as crisp as ever.
There was always an odd stillness in the air whenever the electricity would go out. A stillness which would be…
How a Real Man Serenades a Woman
After a few random hours of joking around with my new roommate, I made my way over to bed around 1 am. Exhaustion was fresh and thriving throughout me, but I held on to whatever energy I had left so I could get some much needed Arabic revision. Classes were starting within a few weeks and all I had remembered to say was “La arif” or “I don’t know”.
Story of my academic life.
How a Real Man Serenades a Woman
After a few random hours of joking around with my new roommate, I made my way over to bed around 1 am. Exhaustion was fresh and thriving throughout me, but I held on to whatever energy I had left so I could get some much needed Arabic revision. Classes were starting within a few weeks and all I had remembered to say was “La arif” or “I don’t know”.
Story of my academic life.
