Irrelevant Opinions

Seven Years

2011-11-25T09:41:00.001-05:00

Unfortunately, there is not much to show for the seventh anniversary of Irrelevant Opinions. Someday, I'll update this.

Shadow and Flame

2011-05-16T18:48:00.001-04:00

Slave Lake Mosque (apologies for my poor cellphone camera picture)

A few months ago, I wrote about my experiences in Slave Lake, Alberta, an isolated town in Northern Alberta that had a complicated relationship with its large Muslim community, including the arson of the former mosque in the aftermath of the September 11th attacks. The Muslim community had since built a new mosque, a beautiful one that unfortunately suffered from an almost complete lack of participation. For the most part, the Muslims there had been overcome with fear and suspicion, and were afraid to attach themselves to a targeted site.

I awoke this morning to the news that the entire city is now burning, due to forest fires carried by heavy winds. While the residents have been safe alhamdulillah, their property and belongings have largely been destroyed.

The pictures depict many streets I've walked myself. The hardest hit areas appear to be those within walking distance of the mosque itself, so it is entirely likely that their beautiful mosque is among the ruins. I can only hope and pray that the community can find a way to pick up the pieces again, and that they work alongside neighbours to rebuild their town. It would be a powerful statement of mutual respect and cooperation that could insha-Allah help them overcome the distrust and fear that split the community over the last decade.

Important numbers
To donate toiletries, bedding call Edmonton Emergency Relief Services	780-428-4422
To donate to Red Cross	1-800-418-1111
To register as evacuee or to reach evacuees call Red Cross	1-800-565-4483
Info on hospital patient evacuees	1-866-301-2668
Wildfire information line	1-866-916-INFO
WildFire Road Closure Hotline	780-644-5653 or 310-4455

Source: CBC

Repost: Morning

2011-05-03T10:38:00.001-04:00

Reposted from January 2006.

I woke up this morning and looked out the window as I always do. I looked upon the Canadian Parliament buildings, the famous Peace Tower rising above downtown office buildings. The flag perched above the tower blew in the wind, much like it has every other day.

Much has changed beneath that tower and flag, but the structure remains the same. The surroundings remain the same. The country looks the same. For the most part, the people have not changed. The government may have changed, but many things remain constant. My neighbours still smiled in the hallways. Strangers still chatted merrily on the bus. The Ottawa Senators beat the Maple Leafs again. Unfortunately, the Habs kept losing.

I stepped outside; the weather was warm, only a few degrees below zero. I slept well the night before; I was ready to put in a good days work.

The election may not have gone as I hoped, but things aren't so bad after all.

... except very little of this holds true today. Parliament is no longer outside my window. In fact, I woke up in a Toronto hotel on a gloomy, rainy, and unseasonably cold day. I didn't sleep particularly well. Neighbours didn't smile; instead, they cursed under their breath as they watched the morning news, and honked their horns on the highways. The Senators and Maple Leafs have both been relegated to insignificant bottom-feeders, and the Habs were eliminated from the playoffs last week.

All that being said, however, there is no point in moping. Because life goes on, and it is up to each individual to make the most of it. Things may not always go according to plan or desire, but such is life.

A Conservative majority may change many things for the country; for better or for worse remains to be seen. But what happens in the halls of power do not change the fact that I am ultimately responsible for myself. And who I am, who we all are, is what truly represents our country.

The Forgotten Slaves: The Curious Case of Slave Lake

2010-11-15T23:53:00.000-05:00

Our perspectives repeatedly clashed, but we typically got along very well. Me, having lived all my life in Canada; him, having grown up in Africa, then migrating to Canada, then returning to Africa for studies, and eventually settling back in Canada. He was uneasy, unsettled, ready to leave at the first opportunity in order to secure the value of tradition in his family. That I felt no desire to leave, he felt, was a sign that I rejected tradition and embraced a culture that placed no value in family and morality.

While leaving has crossed my mind in the past, it usually ended up detouring to Tim Hortons before forgetting where it was trying to go. The thought could never make full the journey from idea to objective; the body, meanwhile, remained unmoved entirely by those fleeting ideas.

He never did feel comfortable in Ottawa, afraid for his daughter born days before my own. How could it be, he argued, that his daughter grow up in this society, with this culture, and still find room in her heart to embrace and practice her faith? How could she identify with the religion when she could not identify with a land that embraced the religion?

It was a conversation that carried on for a while, as we travelled westward towards the Rockies before the journey north to Yellowknife. It was an intimidating journey, one that would take days to complete, but it was sure to become a memorable experience.

And then we arrived at Slave Lake.

After the Second World War, as Muslim immigrants began migrating in large numbers to Edmonton, a smaller community made the journey northwards to this small fur trading town to establish business. Muslim generations grew up in this small town, mixing with the larger community until they were as much a part of them as they were of each other. By the 1990s, a small mosque was established to finally meet the needs of this growing congregation.

However, the mosque was something of an anomaly for Slave Lake. While the Muslim community worked for generations to mesh with the greater population to the point of becoming indistinguishable, the mosque stood out like a weird uncle. It didn't quite fit the family values, nephews would pretend they weren't related, but ultimately it still was part of the family - it had to be tended to, respected, and visited. And like this, the community maintained a relationship, however tenuous, with the mosque. Its existence was a significant achievement for the city as a whole, but it suffered from a lack of scholarship, a dearth of individuals capable of teaching, and a general disconnect with the larger urban centres nearby. As such, the promising Muslim community of Slave Lake, with roots four generations deep, lost touch with their identities.

Then, in the days following 9/11, the mosque was set ablaze, leaving a fiery ruin that suffocated whatever little spirit was left.

The people became afraid. It was never established, at least to me, who caused the fire - it may have been the Muslims themselves, it may have been others. It may have been a freak coincidence. But however it happened, it gave birth to a prevailing sense of fear in the community, the desperate feeling among the threatened populace that they could no longer be associated with this religion any longer.

A new mosque was rebuilt, eventually. A beautiful mosque, in fact - one of the best I've seen in the country, for its size. But it was little beyond mere walls; barely five people, mostly travelers, would join the Friday prayer, standing behind an imam who with his best intentions struggled with even basic Islamic terms. The mosque timetable only included 'Asr and 'Maghrib prayers - there was no expectation that one might actually pray outside of those hours during the summer, and no expectation of any prayers at all during the winter.

But more depressing was the refusal of basic services to those of us passing through the city who appeared visibly Muslim. "All I want is a slice of pizza!", pleaded a friend at one Lebanese-owned pizza place. But his beard indicated to the owner that he had other intentions, and the owner kicked him out with no meal. The business owners, afraid of being associated with those who identify themselves as Muslims, refused even to sell to us travelers, ironic given the economic history of the city.

This, my friend argued, was what our second generation communities were coming to. He felt that Slave Lake represented a microcosm of the growth of a new community in the West - initial optimism, gradual loss of tradition, and an eventual disappearance of all connection to Islam within a matter of three to four generations. This, he argued, was why he could not raise his own children in this country; perhaps, with Allah's help, they could keep things going through one generation, but two or three generations down the road, they may be refusing pizzas to men with beards.

Circumstances are different, I felt. Slave Lake was a small town, isolated and detached. The size, my friend argued, only accelerated the process of decline, but that decline was indeed the path all Muslim communities in the West will take over time. For larger cities, perhaps the decline would be more gradual, but loss of religion was inevitable.

Given my own upbringing, I have always decoupled the concepts of geographic tradition and religious tradition; one does not necessarily lead to the other in my mind. There is no guarantee that raising a child in a Muslim country would result in a better upbringing anyway; in fact, there are enough examples I can think of where youth embraced their religion only after leaving their Muslim homelands behind. But my friend was convinced otherwise, and who was I to argue with this friend whom I greatly respected; he had far more knowledge and experience than myself, and had traveled far more extensively throughout the country and world than I had. He was speaking out of experience, whereas I was only speaking out of false, misplaced hope.

But false hope is hope nonetheless. And it is that hope, misplaced as it may be, that can inspire a generation, while fear can suffocate it as it has done in Slave Lake. As Muslims, we are to live between hope and fear, which for me exists right where I am right now; it is home.

From Far and Wide

2010-07-05T23:52:00.002-04:00

I've been asked many times to update my blog, which I've been meaning to do anyway. However, the summer - in spite of a lengthy holiday - has been bizarre and, as usual, travel has busied my schedule leaving me unable to just sit and write. But with things seemingly settling down now, I will try to get back into it lest my literary skills suffer.

The travels have been long and exhausting, but have provided me with a fair amount of inspiration for things that I would like to elaborate on through this blog. Alhamdulillah, I've traveled quite a bit in my life, and recently wrote a list of all the cities I've spent time in. Taking a cue from Target Theory, I intend on writing about most of these places at some point.

In the last two months, I haven't spent a full week in one city. My last two months of Jum'ah prayers have been performed as follows:

May 7th: Ottawa, Ontario
May 14th: Kingston, Ontario
May 21st: Gatineau, Quebec
May 28th: Calgary, Alberta
June 4th: Edmonton, Alberta
June 11th: Slave Lake, Alberta
June 18th: Yellowknife, Northwest Territories
June 25th: Edmonton, Alberta
July 2nd: Kingston, Ontario

And this upcoming Jum'ah, July 9th, I expect to be back in Calgary after a brief sojourn at home in Ottawa. I still hope I can get some writing done insha-Allah between flights and family responsibilities, so stay tuned.

Nauman Theory

2010-07-05T19:19:00.001-04:00

Nauman Theory: A Special Presentation of Irrelevant Opinions.

Congratulations to Nauman on his marriage!

Open publication - Free publishing

Newborn, three others injured in 417 rollover

2009-09-23T22:47:00.001-04:00

Newborn, three others injured in 417 rollover

Alhamdulillah, we're all safe, and avoided any life-threatening injuries. Please make du'a for me and my family, that everyone makes a full recovery, and that this incident brings us closer to Allah.

Everything in life is a test, and Allah will test the believers on their gratitude and patience. May He accept all of us.

Antisocial

2009-09-13T00:39:00.001-04:00

When an e-mail worm affected my rarely used Hotmail account, I did the judicious thing and changed my password. I've never used Hotmail as a primary e-mail account, but was still hung up on MSN Messenger, where the majority of my online communications used to take place. Somehow, the Hotmail password change didn't register with MSN Messenger, and the Live Messenger client has refused my credentials ever since. Since very few of my friends actually used instant messaging anymore, I didn't lose much, so never bothered to investigate further.

It was a rather quaint relic of the early days of the Internet, having to download an application that could only communicate with others using the same application; online social networking has been the domain of large web-based platforms like Facebook and Twitter for quite some time now. I avoided those services early on, and somehow that became my "thing". People came to know me as "the brother who hates Facebook", and for lack of anything else, I decided to embrace that title. I found alternatives to the services that Facebook provides, with the critical exception of actual people. If I were to join, however, it would feel like being late to a party.

But peer pressure and the cuteness of my newborn daughter caught up to me, so now I have a Facebook account. The first thing I found bothersome was how much of a profile they already had on me. I had been tagged in other people's pictures in the past, and every single invitation I've received over the years has been kept in their databases, awaiting me upon my first login. So, even without being a member, the Facebook team could already identify me, or almost anyone else with an e-mail address, in great detail if ever required. From a privacy perspective, this bothered me, but if I had anything to hide, I wouldn't have a blog with my real name either.

The other thing that annoyed me was the famous "Facebook picture". One of the first things I did was look up my old high school to find people I've lost touch with over the years. And almost every profile picture was the same overexposed shot of random people holding alcoholic beverages while hooting at the camera; usually one of them looks like he or she is about to vomit. That picture wasn't clever or original or even interesting the first time, and it isn't any more interesting the eighteenth time. Somehow, after seeing people I know in these shots, I can never look at them the same way afterward.

As a data architect by day, I've always been fascinated by the layers of information that we expose online, and how they can be pieced together. An e-mail address can be considered as a globally unique identifier from which one can consolidate all the various data streams to put together a comprehensive repository of data. It's a little bit scary, but from a purely technical perspective it's rather intriguing.

Communication has evolved over time, and I suppose it was only a matter of time before I caught up. One of the more recent trends has been the efforts of consolidating all the various protocols into single streams accessible anywhere. The Palm Pre has Synergy, HTC does it in the Sense UI, and Motorola is now pushing their MotoBLUR system, all in an effort to unify online identities to actual people; anonymity and privacy are hardly objectives.

These trends will continue for some time, as protocols open up and intercommunication becomes easier. And eventually, who we are online may be as important to ones livelihood as who we are offline.

But as people, as human beings, we must keep our humanity alive through our works, and not our status messages. Joining a Facebook group condemning something does not equate to standing up for justice. Writing a wall post in support of a sick friend can never replace visiting them in person. And one cannot fulfill the rights of family by "friending" them.

It takes a little blood, sweat, and tears to attain goodness in life. It's what separates man from machine.

Hafsa

2009-09-10T23:49:00.002-04:00

On Monday, September 7th 2009 (appropriately, Labour Day) at 5:32 pm - the 17th of Ramadhan, Allah Subhana wa ta'Ala blessed my wife and I with a beautiful baby daughter, Hafsa. She clocked in at 6 pounds and 9 ounces, and is doing very well masha-Allah, and her mother is doing well also masha-Allah.

Ummul Momineen - Mother of the Believers - Hafsa Radhiallahu'anha was the daughter of Sayyidina 'Umar RadhiAllahu'anh, and a wife of the Prophet Salallahu'alayhi wa salam. She was known for her piety and devotion to prayer. Little Hafsa is named in her honour.

I've also rethemed Irrelevant Opinions; the old theme was getting rather dull over time. This one is courtesy of RayCreations, but I'll possibly customize it to my liking over time. (Actually, I probably won't.)

Please remember little Hafsa in your special Ramadhan du'as, that she lives a healthy and productive life. May Allah accept and protect all of our children, and make them a means of comfort and happiness in this world and in the hereafter.

Crescent Rolls

2009-08-21T08:56:00.001-04:00

I wrote this for last years Ramadhan issue of the Muslim Link, and it was very well received around the city. Here it is again.

At nearly every Islamic conference and halaqah in North America, Muslim scholars and activists have pondered over what defines the "North American Muslim culture". For as long as there have been pockets of believers throughout the New World, there have been discussions on how North American culture would influence Muslim belief and practice. Some believed, and still believe, that they simply aren't compatible; they adopt one, and ridicule the other. Others have gone to great lengths to integrate the cultures completely, compromising both. The vast majority of us, torn between two worlds, feel that there is no single answer; North American Muslims form a microcosm of the entire Muslim world, and each community offers a different perspective.

There is one thing, however, that can be considered a largely "North American" practice. It didn't come from any Islamic texts, nor did we inherit it from our ancestral countries. It has become a defining trait of nearly every masjid and Islamic organization in Canada and the US, and has spawned more discussion and debate than nearly any other aspect of Islamic practice. That salient characteristic is, of course, the moonfighting.

Around three times a year, debate erupts as to whether the new moon has been sighted, and if so, by whom, and when, and how, and, of course, what does moonsighting.com say about it? One follows the local sighting, another follows the Saudi sighting, while others argue that this era calls for relying on technology. And every year, cities are divided, masjids bicker, and even members of one family will often celebrate Eid on different days. With the variations at both the beginning and end of Ramadhan, some cities boast three separate days of Eid prayer.

Differences of opinion are part of the Ummah, and nowhere is that more prevalent than in the mosques of the West, where different traditions and backgrounds come together, and often clash. What makes the moon sighting issue so much more prominent is that it involves a communal act of worship at a very large scale. There are a number of accepted schools of jurisprudence that encourage slight variations in prayer and other Islamic rulings, but those variations don't usually expose themselves beyond individual discussion. And when they do, most will agree to disagree, recognizing that the history of Islamic scholarship not only tolerated such variation, but encouraged it within the parameters of Shariah. Essentially, the practice of one worshipper should not affect the worship of another.

The beginning of Ramadhan and the days of Eid are community celebrations, which reach every Muslim household. Even those Muslims who would not normally frequent the mosques or participate in community activities get caught up in the excitement, and race toward the first rows in Tarawih prayers. Ramadhan is, in many ways, the most uniting act of worship for the vast majority of Muslims in this part of the world, even with the disagreements on the number of raka'ats in Tarawih and the precise time that a white thread appears distinct from a black one. As an event of such magnitude, any disagreement puts the entire community at odds. Each moonsighting interpretation spawns it's own camp within each city, each one calling for "unity". Of course, unity for each camp means that everyone else follow their way.

It is not for an article such as this to argue which is the correct opinion. Scholars have debated the issue already at length with no solid agreement, and it is unlikely that epiphany will strike anytime soon. What can be discussed, however, is where the differences arise, and how we as a community should deal with them.

As with most differences in the science of Islamic jurisprudence, variations arise based on the interpretations of different scholars on the verses of Quran and Hadith pertaining to a given topic. Typically, the same source verses and hadith are being used to arrive at the various rulings. On issues where there is no specific verses or hadith, scholars would infer the rulings based on similar topics, and by way of analogy, come to a conclusion. The reliability of the narrator is also considered in the case of hadith, and scholars assessed this reliability in different ways. Thus, even with a single verse of Quran or a single passage from the Hadith, dozens of interpretations could arise.

In the case of the crescent birth, the verses of Quran do not explicitly stipulate whether the crescent moon of Makkah should be sought, or whether it should be seen wherever one lives. The Quran does elaborate on the number of witnesses required to establish a reliable account, however. This requirement has played into a number of controversies in recent memory, including a case here in Ottawa a couple of years ago. It is generally accepted that a single witness is not sufficient to establish a reliable account, but scholars differ as to whether this is applicable in every case.

Other variables play into the debate. In the past, scholars debated whether the sighting had to occur at ground level, or if it was permissible to seek the crescent from the top of a mountain where there would be increased visibility. Weather also factored into their positions; should one just employ a "best guess" approach when there is no chance of seeing the moon through the clouds? With modern technology, there are even more variables. For example, would seeing the moon through a telescope constitute a valid sighting? Would a reported sighting that contradicted astronomical calculations be acceptable? Rather than simplify the issue, modern technology has only made the debate more difficult.

With so many factors playing into the decision, it is surprising that we differ only by a day or two. We all hope and pray that we unify on a single day, but that's an extremely challenging proposition with all the cards in play. In the mean time, our job is to accept the conflicting opinions without resorting to pointless bickering. It should be noted that scholars, in their disagreements, did not let those disagreements incite hatred or comtempt. Harbouring contempt against fellow Muslims is a far greater crime than starting Ramadhan a day early.

Thus, in the days approaching Ramadhan, we should find out what position will be taken by our local mosque. We should use our local mosque as our basis, as this is the place we will most likely be praying our Tarawih prayers on a daily basis, so we should be synchronized with them. At the end of the month, we should stick with that mosque, and follow their Shawwal sighting. One should not follow one opinion to begin the month and another to complete it, lest one fall into the trap of taking rulings at their convenience. Furthermore, we should encourage others to do the same, even if they follow a different opinion than our own. I recall an incident in university where a group of friends celebrating Eid forced another Muslim to eat on what he believed to be the last day of Ramadhan; such incidents should be avoided completely, lest someone end up fasting only 28 days. We can not let ourselves be the cause of spoiling the Ramadhan of another.

Allah has blessed us with Ramadhan as a means of forgiveness and seeking His Mercy. We should not let our pride take away from this month by forcing our opinions on others. We will be doing more to promote unity by allowing others the freedom to follow what they believe, rather than force everyone into celebrating Eid on a single day.

Ironically, our hopes of unity may best be served by embracing disagreement.

Nine Thousand Miles

2009-08-16T14:37:00.001-04:00

If the opportunity was presented to you to start a new life, over nine thousand miles away from everything you knew and loved growing up, would you consider it?

Many people live their entire lives within a small radius that doesn't even exceed the daily commute of many people working and living in large cities. The home they were born in was the home their parents were born in, and their children would live there too, or if they were adventurous, then perhaps they would settle a few miles away.

In this part of the world, it is uncommon for people to stay in one place for so long; sedentary lifestyles are looked down upon, and it is often considered a vice to remain physically attached to one's roots. I was the adventurous one in the family, settling only a couple hundred kilometres away from the rest. In my pursuit of a livelihood, I was happy settling on the mantra, "anywhere but Toronto".

During the fifteen months that my rizq was spread out across the country, I travelled over two hundred thousand miles, more than the distance to the moon. And since then, my wings have been clipped, grounded in one place for two years. While life has been extremely kind to me and my family, I've always wondered about what else may be in store outside the artificial boundaries I have constrained myself to.

Nine thousand miles is a long distance to cover. "Permanent" can be a long time. And a life away from everything I knew and loved may be difficult to bear. But the Prophet Muhammad Salallahu'alayhi wa salam taught us to live our lives as travellers, as there is nothing permanent about this life. And Allah Subhana Wa Ta'Ala has made this earth vast, and has placed within it many colours and cultures for us to experience and learn from. What better way to live that life and experience those realities than by taking that step into the unknown?

And with a new life coming into this world, isn't this an appropriate time to consider a new life for myself?

Strange

2009-06-15T12:22:00.000-04:00

Source: CBC News

Sometimes, you just need to stop and smell the dead bugs that have been sitting on that windowsill for the last two years

2009-04-29T13:43:00.000-04:00

A few days ago, my feed reader led me to a fairly bad article that caught my attention. I read it before heading off to work, shortly after it was published, but did not have time to share my comments at that time. I thought to myself, by the time I get home, dozens of other people would probably say the same thing. If not, maybe I'd leave a comment - it had been a while that I'd been an active contributor to the Muslim blogosphere.

"Dozens" was an understatement. The response was angry, constant, unforgiving. I briefly considered adding a comment to echo the overwhelming majority opinion against the article, but stopped myself - what more would I be contributing?

Unfortunately, that question has been popping up all too often of late, holding back my erstwhile love of writing - the idea that I have to be contributing something amongst the millions of other voices out there. When I evaluate the odds, I feel outnumbered, and busy myself instead with local endeavours, finding my place in the urban community that is slowly becoming home.

The plight of my city has given me tonnes of material to write about - never before has the Ottawa Muslim community been under this much public scrutiny. My recent travels have opened new worlds to me. My new family life has filled that void that pervaded much of my earlier writing and life. So why, then, am I holding back my thoughts?

The most memorable feedback I've ever received about my irrelevant opinions came from an anonymous e-mailer who I don't believe was even one of the regular commenters here. After searching my rarely-used Hotmail account, I was reminded about other occasions where blogging lost value to me, but how I came back in the end. Their words:

"... and Allah has given you the gift of writing. Use this gift to remind people of what is important, or maybe just to pay attention to things we tend to take for granted. With the right intention, this blog could be your ticket to acceptance by Allah."

So perhaps there is room to contribute to the world, at this little corner of blogspot.com?

Galloway Refused Entry into Canada

2009-03-20T16:11:00.001-04:00

"Canadian officials have denied outspoken anti-war British MP George Galloway entry into Canada on grounds he poses a threat to national security."

Via the Toronto Star.

I recall attending a lecture by Mr. Galloway in Ottawa several years ago, and was impressed by his charisma and strong principles. This was years before he was a household name within the Muslim world; since then, he has gone way up in my esteem after his incredible efforts in the Viva Palestina convoy. Blocking his entry into Canada this time around is an unfortunate sign that Canadian leaders are still under the influence of the old US administration, where criticism of Israel is tantamount to treason.

It is a frightening sign of the times that the ones who are truly calling out for peace are considered to be "threats to national security", whereas those who support oppressive regimes and illegal invasions are considered to be advocates of peace, justice, and freedom.

Some day, we'll be saying that war is peace, freedom is slavery, ignorance is strength.

Design Proposal for the Grand Mosque in Makkah

2009-03-12T12:00:00.002-04:00

Kinda neat, though it seems to impede Tawaf somehow. I don't think this will fly, but it's interesting to think about.

Resolution

2009-02-12T10:36:00.017-05:00

A lot is going on these days - it is amazing how many things have been changing and will change in the coming months. Insha-Allah, the challenges will be met and things will go smoothly. I just have to promise myself one thing:

Do not let the depressing hockey scores put you in a bad mood. Do not dwell in the misery of Montreal's losing streak.

Update: Oh, and I also intend to write more. Sometime, eventually, maybe.

Les Poissons

2008-12-17T12:39:00.001-05:00

Les poissons, les poissons
How I love les poissons
Love to chop and to serve little fish!
First I cut off their heads,
Then I pull out the bones
Ah mais oui, Ca c'est toujours delice!
Les poissons, les poissons
Hee hee hee, Hah hah hah!
With the cleaver I hack them in two
I pull out what's inside
And I serve it up fried
God, I love little fishes
Don't you?

Here's something for tempting the palate
Prepared in the classic technique
First you pound the fish flat with a mallet
Then you slash through the skin
Give the belly a slice
Then you rub some salt in
'Cause that makes it taste nice

Zut alors, I have missed one!

Sacre bleu, what is this?
How on earth could I miss
Such a sweet little succulent crab?
Quel dommage, what a loss!
Here we go in the sauce
Now some flour, I think, just a dab
Now I stuff you with bread
It won't hurt 'cause you're dead!
And you're certainly lucky you are
'Cause it's gonna be hot
In my big silver pot
Toodle loo, mon poisson
Au revoir!

credit: Disney's Little Mermaid, and a lengthy fever that has unlocked some unpleasant childhood memories

Tribute to the Pilgrims

2008-11-18T10:07:00.000-05:00

In the last few weeks, I have been congratulated quite often for my recent marriage. Marriage certainly is a big step in life, and is worthy of celebration. But is it really that special, in comparison to other accomplishments in life?

My closest friend is leaving for Hajj in less than a week. Thinking about the journey he is about to undertake, I can't help but think that his journey, and that of every other pilgrim, is far more worthy of celebration than any marriage. We put so much emphasis on marriage, forgetting about the more important things in life.

Hajj is mandatory (fardh), while marriage is sunnah. Completing Hajj is establishing a pillar of Islam; it is the very foundation of one's deen.
Both marriage and Hajj are once-in-a-lifetime experiences for most people, but Hajj is such an experience that cleanses a person spiritually and can change a life completely. Generally, marriage will also change a person for the better, but it occasionally brings out the worst in people. There is no guarantee that marriage will provide the spiritual renewal that Hajj provides.
Hajj is a privilege that very few get to experience. Assuming an average adult lifespan of seventy years, and an average of two million new pilgrims per year, approximately 140 million Muslims will go for Hajj during the life of an average person. This makes up only 10% of the entire Muslim population - meaning 90% of the Muslims of the world do not get such an opportunity. On the other hand, most people get married eventually, and it is not even something exclusive to Muslims. Most people get married eventually.

Of course, they are not mutually exclusive, so the pursuit of one should not prevent the other. Those who have experienced both are truly lucky. But we must not forget what a privilege the experience of Hajj is, and must confer the appropriate respect and honour to the Pilgrims. They are far more worthy of respect, and deserve all the recognition we can give them.

Passing Thought

2008-11-06T15:08:00.001-05:00

I recently was thinking about what life might be like if we were unable to visualize thoughts in our minds. Imagine if we actually had to draw out our thoughts on paper in order to "see" them, or speak sounds to hear them. Our brains provide us with such a vivid canvas on which we can easily illustrate in two or three dimensions, internalized within ourselves. It also provides us with a stage in which we can animate anything or anyone in any way we want, and the orchestra to conjure up whatever audio we like.

What if we had these capacities taken away? Could we somehow still get by based only on what we perceive with our eyes and ears?

Prayers for Chachi

2008-11-03T11:42:00.000-05:00

Please pray for my aunt, the mother of my cousin Nauman, who has recently been diagnosed with colon cancer. Unfortunately, cancer is nothing new to our family, but Allah has been merciful and has cured afflicted family members in the past; insha-Allah, this time will be no different.

Please convey your well-wishes to Nauman here.

Comfort of the Eyes

2008-10-13T13:15:00.001-04:00

'O Our Lord', grant us from our wives and offspring, the comfort of our eyes, and make us the leaders of the pious. (25:74)

As of two days, the author of this blog is married. Things could not have gone smoother, and he could not be happier. :)

Motionless Journey II: All The Wrong Reasons

2008-10-01T01:59:00.002-04:00

Usually, a person learns more from failure than from success. Without facing any challenges, a person tends to become complacent, and would be poorly prepared when their hopes are dashed and things eventually go awry. Failure is one of the greatest teachers in life, and it is something that we should not be ashamed of if it leads to personal growth.

At least, that's the spiel I gave to a job interviewer when, upon reviewing my university transcript and my disastrous Fall 2003 semester, he exclaimed, "what the hell happened here?!"

That same interviewer is now one of my current managers.

It wasn't just fluff I made up to gloss over one of my most difficult stretches of academia. It was something I always believed, perhaps as a defense mechanism against frustration. When things didn't go my way, I tried to generally find some lesson to derive out of those situations. That particular semester of university was almost a revelation for me, learning that the world doesn't end when things go poorly. Life goes on, and in fact, it almost certainly will get better.

You don't want to set yourself up for failure though just to get the lessons. You need to prepare and equip yourself for success, and take failure in stride. When it came to issues of my life and my future, I was always afraid that I'd have to hit a major emotional setback first in order to achieve my goals, so I always kept my emotions heavily guarded. On matters of such importance, I'd rather not learn things the hard way.

My first home after moving away from my family was a shared house with three other Muslim brothers. One of them, who left shortly after I moved in, became a very close friend very quickly. He had graduated from university a couple of years earlier, and had moved to Ottawa after leaving a great job in the city where he grew up and studied. He was part of a good family, had a good job, and was a hafiz to boot, and his welcoming personality made my own transition much easier. As he explained to me, however, his arrival in Ottawa was under less than ideal circumstances.

A failed marriage venture lead to his leaving his old city. In the past, he had been working with a young Muslim woman who was not particularly practicing, whose parents were vehemently opposed to any trace of religion entering their home. My roommate described her as the most beautiful girl in the office, adding that she was constantly teased by the older male coworkers. He was the only one who would give her due respect, warning her about what others were saying and visualizing behind her back. She was touched by his courtesy, and quickly began changing her life by adopting regular prayer and modesty in dress, much to the chagrin of her parents. The first day she came home from work wearing hijab, my friend narrated, she was subject to much verbal abuse by her father.

But she wanted to find a new home and a new family, and that hafiz at work seemed like the perfect candidate to share her life with. Talks began, and one day, the hafiz agreed to meet her parents at their home.

Upon seeing him, dressed in a black jalabiya and his long beard, the parents slammed the door. No way was this "mullah" going to marry their daughter.

They kept discussing, but her parents would not budge, and urged their daughter to leave that job and never to speak with that hafiz again. He did not want her to leave everything behind and break up her family, so he himself left the job and moved away. He kept in touch with her for some time, introducing her to other Muslim sisters in the area who could help her continue developing in Islam. But he recognized that there was no way he could envision a future with her, with a constant struggle between families and values. He needed to break away completely.

There was no happy ending to this story, per se. I lost touch with that roommate over time, so I don't know what happened to that young woman, though that roommate did eventually marry from back home. But as this story was being narrated to me eight years back, I made a number of mental notes about what to do and what to avoid should I find myself in the same situation. When it came to marriage, I was too afraid to learn from my own failed ventures; I wanted to learn from others instead.

As the years went by and I heard other, similar stories, I noticed a few recurring themes in the failed ventures. Usually, it came down to parents having conflicting values, or the prospective couple themselves being unable to reconcile petty differences. What put them together in the first place was usually quite a lengthy, and often dramatic, story.

And therein lies the rub, I thought. Nearly every failed engagement or failed marriage I have seen began with a long pre-engagement story. Often, people look for a story, because no one likes telling people at work that "my parents met her parents, and we spoke a few times, and decided to get married".

No, people want a story, a romantic adventure, a tale to tell their children about "how we met", perhaps even an entire theme for their blog. And often, it backfires, and the guy ends up marrying from back home to avoid "the hassle" (how offensive is that?) while the girl's parents lose all hope that anyone would ever marry her due to that one broken engagement or divorce. It's a terrible cycle that leaves families broken and divided, and the unfortunate victims in all this usually end up being the girls. They are stigmatized by a culture which fails to recognize their immense talents and capabilities.

On the other hand, most of the successful marriages I see are the result of a very formal and boring process. We even sarcastically call the initial meetings "interviews", likening the spouse search to the post-graduation job search. All the excitement is saved for after marriage, where the young couple learns to adapt to their new life together, building their relationship with exclusive commitment to each other. Of course, exceptions exist where things aren't as smooth, just as exceptions exist in the former case where couples complete their dramatic stories with beautiful marriages and cute children.

As was the case of my former roommate and a number of other stories I heard over the years, things went sour because of parents with all the wrong priorities, seeking marriage for their children for all the wrong reasons. In many of the more recent cases of failed engagements in my community, I was surprised no one else saw it coming; all the warning signs were clearly visible. But for parents who want wealthy husbands for their daughters, or those who want beautiful and fair-skinned wives for their sons, those signs often do not register.

We have been taught to judge compatibility based on a person's piety. But what does this actually mean? "Well, Allah has ordered men to provide for their families, so our future son-in-law must be a doctor, because he can provide the best, therefore he is the best in piety!" Or, "the Quran describes the women of Paradise as beautiful, and so beauty is part of deen! Beautiful and fair skinned and I never read anything in the Quran commanding hijab, why I know this one hijabi girl who you wouldn't believe the stories i heard blah blah blah ..." Um, not quite.

I never had much tolerance for that. If someone was inquiring about me, I wanted it to be for the right reasons. I remember being in Vancouver one day, receiving a phone call from some uncle in Toronto who clearly failed to recognize that there is a three hour time difference. A father to a daughter in her early 20s, he had spoken to my parents about my availability. But before properly introducing himself or even telling me so much as his daughter's name (which I never found out), he asked:

"So, what is your salary?"

I could have told him. Alhamdulillah, I do okay, but he had already turned me off. I sarcastically replied, "oh, it's somewhere in the five-figure range". He pressed further, but I had lost interest. He also encouraged me to pursue a Master's degree, because clearly I wasn't earning enough if I was not ready to divulge that information. I told him I was happy with the way my life is going, and don't see any need to change things considerably, particularly on the advice of someone who had never met me. It wasn't my best of moments, as I wasn't particularly polite, though perhaps the time of day affected my tone of voice. I never heard from him again, but he had already lost me long before I even said a word.

In retrospect, it didn't bother me much. I had been through much worse, and he certainly made my life easier by establishing his priorities from the outset. I should have thanked him for being so blunt.

A few weeks ago, I spent two hours driving between cities with one relative that I had never really spoken to very deeply before. He migrated to Canada from Pakistan in the early seventies, and married from Pakistan shortly thereafter. He told me the stories of his own marriage search, and it surprised me how similar his stories were to those I hear about here in Canada. I thought issues of marriage were so simple back then, but he taught me that it has always been this way, and perhaps it always will be. Now happily married for over thirty years with very cute grandchildren, he showed that things work out eventually if one goes in with the right intentions.

The right intentions. The right intentions are to obey the order of Allah and the tradition of the Prophet, peace be upon him, by choosing a companion to share one's life and afterlife with. So simple in concept, but in practice, we have introduced so many unnecessary complications that have made it one of most hotly-debated topics of our generation.

I touched on this topic before, when writing of Goldilocks last year. It was a direct response to incidents from only days before, and I still look upon it as one of my personal favourites from this blog. Unfortunately, Goldilocks did not fare too well, a fate I wrote as something of a personal warning. I learn more from failures than from success, so I figured I can just fictionalize the failures so I don't need to experience them myself. It turned out to be a good move.

I'll try to finish this sometime early next week, insha-Allah. Eid Mubarak, everyone!

Motionless Journey I: A Dawning Reality

2008-09-19T23:51:00.002-04:00

I was always a bit naïve when it came to the way things worked in love and life. I was born and raised in one of the most cosmopolitan cities in the world, but somehow felt that really, the society around me didn't tread too far away from our traditions of marriage and companionship. The process was a bit different, but the goals were ultimately the same.

I always assumed that what I saw on sitcoms, where characters would have a new girlfriend or boyfriend every week or two (or sometimes several in one episode), was purely fiction. Or, if not fiction, then more a product of American society, and not at all reflective of my image of pure, pristine Canada. A completely different world, I thought! In Canada, any relationship between a boy and a girl was just the precursor to marriage and traditional, suburban life. Kids, minivans, and problems that are solved in thirty minutes minus commercials.

I am not sure how I managed all those years being so aloof. What really went on around me, among my friends and classmates at the time, was quite far off from my understanding. Eventually, friends would confide in me with their stories, and I was quietly horrified by the clearly foolish decisions they made. I didn't understand how people could be so negligent of their own realities.

As I grew up and began living on my own, I became much more appreciative of the traditional rishta system of family and marriage; when executed in conjunction with the rest of Islamic principles, it actually worked. During my early university years, there was no pressure, and I was free from the stress that complex emotional relationships bring while navigating through my engineering degree. I understood that everything had a time, and my time was not soon. I didn't need to worry.

Of course, things changed, and MSA began consuming a good chunk of my time. And of course, late night discussions with fellow MSA brothers would invariably lead to discussions about marriage. The popular opinion was that the system was "broken" in North America, or that it was, at best, an unsolved problem. I observed with great curiosity as others took their steps on that path, many unsuccessfully. I kept myself comfortably distanced, making mental notes of every mistake I caught and every good idea I witnessed.

The stories I heard were not uncommon; issues with potential in-laws, conflicting ambitions, incompatible cultures, distance, et cetera. None of these seemed all that threatening to me, having heard much worse from my high school days. I didn't find the system to be broken, per se, as rarely did any of these incidents leave lasting emotional scars. In the entire journey, they were mere blips, frustrating only for those who expected instant results.

A broken system, in my mind, involved men and women scouting singles bars, drowning their inhibitions to score for a night, without much thought about the days or weeks after. A broken system makes "commitment" a bad word. A broken system involves suppressing your good conscience via intoxication or ignorance, letting animalistic desire take over. A broken system includes "relationship experts" who can't get their own act together, let alone advise others. Just by providing me the foresight and tools to avoid all this, I qualified our pseudo-Islamic-but-largely-cultural system, even in North America, as functional and credible.

I remember watching an episode of Frasier one day. The ongoing storyline in that series involved the infatuation of Frasier's brother Niles with the housekeeper Daphne. Eventually, Niles won the object of his affection, and at some point had this conversation with his brother:

Niles: I think we may be taking our relationship to the next level.

Frasier: Oh, my God, Niles! You're going to propose?

Niles: No, not that level, the level before that.

Frasier: You're going to ask her to move in with you?

Niles: One more level before that.

Frasier: Well, you're already dating...

Niles: No, that's two levels.

Frasier: Oh, for heaven's sake, just tell me!

Niles: Well, you know. We're going to... consummate our relationship.

According to this exchange, the sequence is as follows:

Dating
Consummation
Living together
Engagement / Marriage

The model is almost a complete reversal of the Islamic model. Thinking about all the stories I heard from friends and colleagues who attempted to exercise this model, it always struck me as stupid - as evidenced by a success rate that would barely qualify as a passing grade in the substandard Ontario school system.

I would have thought that, at some point, people would have re-evaluated this process and realized it needed tweaking. No high-performing business would maintain a business model that yielded such a high failure rate. In any productive society, the family is the most fundamental structure, and should thus be built on the most solid foundations. Exposing the family to this much risk is not enlightenment, it is simply poor planning.

When I think about the quality of most of the Muslim brothers and sisters I have known over the years, particularly those born and raised in the West, I can only conclude that the traditional system works reliably. These wonderful people I have known are the products of this system, and many have already established families of their own. Yes, we complain about the actual search for a spouse being difficult and convoluted, but this is only one stage in a much larger process. In the context of the lifetime influences this system has on us, we should feel extremely grateful. Life could have been so much more complicated.

The West introduced first generation Canadian Muslims like myself to a system which appeared liberating, exciting, and emotionally gratifying. In reality, it's not any of these things. It's much more of an unsolved problem than Muslim marriage in the West, inefficient and prone to failure. While things are not always perfect in every Muslim household, the traditional Muslim family structure is still something to cherish and be proud of. Certainly, things can always be improved, but nothing in life is easy; furthermore, if things were too easy, we would have no appreciation for it. The day we recognize how fortunate we are to have our convoluted system is the day our own journey becomes smoother.

The steps to achieving that realization, of course, are not always smooth in itself. A few stories in particular helped shape my understanding, and continue to help forge my path forward. To be eventually continued...

Geometry Lessons

2008-09-17T09:29:00.002-04:00

A few months ago, I wrote a post about Diamond Shreddies, a product of the "latest advancements in cereal rotation technology". Last night, I received an e-mail from someone on the Diamond Shreddies marketing department about their latest press release.

Some noteworthy excerpts:

Records obtained from an unnamed Shreddies source reveal that not everyone supports Diamond Shreddies self-proclaimed geometric superiority.
"You are sending the wrong information to kids about geometric shapes," says one concerned parent, to whom The President of Shreddies responded: "You are partially correct, the true geometric name is Rhombus Shreddies, but unfortunately Rhombus failed miserably when tested against Diamond Shreddies in consumer groups."

Rhombus Shreddies sound delicious.

Further investigation revealed some complaints focused on the issue of product shape controls gone awry.
One consumer wrote "I purchased a box of the new Diamond Shreddies and only half were the diamond shape!"

I can relate. Sometimes, my Cheerios are Cheeriovals, and it drives me nuts.

Jar of Raisins

2008-09-10T09:50:00.008-04:00

On the upcoming election: I love how in Canada, an election can be announced, campaigned, and settled within seven weeks, whereas our neighbours to the south have been in election mode for over a year and will continue to be for another few months. And the worst "scandals" in Canadian politics wouldn't even raise an eyebrow down there, amid all the prevailing stupidity.

Canadian politics are terribly boring, which is something we should all be thankful for.

On hockey and deciding: What on earth is Mats Sundin waiting for? If only he knew about istikhara.

On praying: When praying for something, one shouldn't ask for the means to an end; rather, ask for the end itself. If you are having financial difficulties, don't ask for lots of money; that money won't necessarily provide your solution, and may in fact bring about more difficulties. Simply ask for relief from your financial woes, and let Allah decide the means. If you're feeling sick or lonely, don't ask for a specific medicine or a specific companion; instead ask for relief from these afflictions, and insha-Allah, you will find what you need even if it is not what you expected.

Pompous uncles: This was supposed to be a post in itself, but just a few things have been on my mind of late. Often, Muslim scholars are often the subject of ridicule by uncles who think they know better. I have observed that, whenever an uncle begins to mock one of these scholars, he will switch over to English, as if speaking a Western language gives him more legitimacy in his tantrums. It is a sad reality that those scholars living in the West who are not well versed in English often get a bad rap, and are not taken seriously.

I understand the importance of speaking the local language, in order to be able to relate to the youth and the greater society. However, the inability to speak English should not detract from all the studies these scholars have pursued; what they have spent their lives learning is far more valuable than any basic language. It might take some time for them to integrate, but if we bear patiently and help them out, the community as a whole will prosper. Our 'ulema have a very high status according to many hadith, and we should appreciate that in its own right irrespective of language or background.

Furthermore, Muslim scholars are, by default, very studious individuals, and learning a simple language like English should not be a huge challenge for them. Many complained about a recent decision by a prominent local mosque to have an Arab government appoint their imam; the new imam speaks very little English right now, and I was among those who thought it was a poor decision. In retrospect, I realize that we should give him and all imported scholars a chance, and not let our pride in language get in the way of appreciating what they have accomplished; the language skills will come with time. I still find it bizarre that the decision came from a government, but that is a topic in itself.

On ignorance: Avoid it if you can.

Peace and Tranquility Descend Upon Them

2008-09-10T00:05:00.001-04:00

Abu Hurairah and Abu Sa'id al-Khudri radhiAllahu'anhuma both bear witness that Nabi salAllahu'alayhi wa salam said, "There isn't a group of people who sit in the remembrance of Allah 'Azza wa jall, except that the angels surround this group with their wings, and Allah's Mercy covers them, and peace and tranquility descends upon them, and Allah mentions them in the gathering of angels."
Muslim

Love and Hate

2008-08-29T16:45:00.001-04:00

I have noticed that many non-Muslims assume that Muslims dread Ramadhan. Many believe that the idea of giving up food and water all day for thirty straight days is unbearable. Many probably think that most of us fast only "because we have to", and not out of a sincere desire for spiritual rectification and renewal.

So I decided to run a simple social experiment, and see how many Google results appear for the following strings: "I love Ramadan", and "I hate Ramadan".

Not surprisingly, the "I love Ramadan" crowd (approximately 900 results) outnumbered the "I hate Ramadan" crowd (approximately 90 results) by a fair margin. I was surprised, however, how few results were returned, seeing as how nearly every Muslim blog I've seen will have at least one post or one comment that discusses the joys of the blessed month. Alternately, "I love Islam" returns over 35,000 results, while only eight results appear for "I love Hajj".

Factoring in different spellings (Ramadhan versus Ramadan versus Ramzaan), the "love" crowd typically outnumbered the "hate" crowd by a 10-to-1 margin. Furthermore, many of the "I hate Ramadan" posts were prefixed with "Not that ...", as in "Not that I hate Ramadan, but ...", so even the "hate" results were not really negative.

So for all those naysayers, there you go: we sincerely love Ramadan. It is a joyous occasion for all, and we are all eagerly awaiting it's auspicious arrival. May we all take full advantage of it, insha-Allah.

Pre-Ramadhan Randomness

2008-08-28T13:24:00.004-04:00

I have a lot to write these days, but have been under the weather for some time now. So for now, I will just link to the most recent edition of Muslim Link, which includes my first article there in over a year.

Muslim Link Ramadhan Issue
Original, unedited version

The front page article is mine, though unfortunately it went through a few edits that screwed up the grammar and wording. I'm tempted to volunteer regularly again as an editor because they certainly need the help, but have a few other requests that I need to respond to first. I need to learn to prioritize.

The following topics have been on my mind of late, and I'll probably write about at least one of these eventually, not sure which.

Condescending uncles and their derision for "mullahs".
Agreeing to disagree, in the light of the sunnah.
My take on all the marriage discussion around the blogosphere these days.
Jum'ah woes; responding to the recent imam controversies in Ottawa.
Why I strongly dislike 99% of the wedding speeches I keep hearing.

In the meantime, I might as well share some pictures from my trip to Banff earlier this year. I meant to post these up five months ago, but it kept slipping my mind. Enjoy!

Where is the future of knowledge?

2008-07-31T11:27:00.000-04:00

A few weeks ago, as I was walking through the basement of my apartment building, I noticed this sitting in a corner normally used for dropping bulk garbage:

It was a complete set of the Encyclopedia Britannica in perfect condition. Encyclopedias are not cheap, and the Britannica in particular is one of the more reputable ones. This edition was graced by many colour pictures on glossy pages, and must have cost the owner at least a thousand dollars when initially purchased.

Of course, it was from 1986. Since then, the world has changed significantly, and almost every article in those 24 volumes and several thousands of pages would be obsolete.

I remember elementary school and high school well. In elementary school, kindergarten to grade six in my home province, we used to do projects every once in a while about an animal or a country or a person. That meant going to both the school's library as well as the local municipal library, and spending hours searching through books and encyclopedias to find the information I needed. Then I would put it all together in one unified piece, load the pages into a duotang (do people still use duotangs?), and then submit it to my teacher. The research and consolidation was a lot of work, but it certainly helped me become a better writer and thinker.

I don't need to do any of this work anymore, and neither do those kids who are doing those same projects. I can see the rationale of that family that threw out their Encyclopedia set; they must have asked themselves, "will we or anyone else ever refer to this encyclopedia again?" There really is no reason to do so ever. The encyclopedia only serves an aesthetic purpose today, and offers nothing else of value.

In spite of the completely open nature of Wikipedia, it is surprisingly an extremely well managed resource. You may not get 100% accurate information every time, but what you get is usually of excellent quality regardless, even on the most obscure topics. At the same time, what guarantee do I have that Britannica was 100% accurate in it's heyday?

I originally planned on writing this when Google's Knol project first opened up to the public last week. Knol aims to distinguish itself from Wikipedia by putting more accountability on the content authors. Users are only expected to contribute "Knols" if they are authorities on their topic.

When I first started exploring Knol, there was no entry on Islam, and I thought I would contribute one lest it be scooped up by a so-called "experts" who interpret the faith according to their own whims and desires. A week later, there are no fewer than 34 articles about Islam, though many of them appear to be simple copy/pastes from Wikipedia articles or other websites. I haven't read anything particularly inflammatory yet, but Google's system here somehow seems more prone to bias and personal opinion.

I don't think Knol will catch on, mainly because the presentation is quite poor so far. Wikipedia is beautifully consistent, and makes finding the information I want much easier, whereas every Knol article appears to adopt it's own layout rules and writing style. But I'd still like to contribute some of my "expertise" somehow, but what topics (outside of twisted metaphors) can I be considered an "authority" in?

Whether Google succeeds or not, it is clear that the future of knowledge will not lie on paper. Books will always have their place, but bits of binary data flowing through the tubes of the Internet will serve as the records of our time for future historians studying life in the 21st century.

In the past, they said that "history is written by the winners." That statement is soon to be irrelevant. Going forward, history will be written by the people with flexible data plans.

A Complete Beginner's Guide to RSS

2008-07-21T00:29:00.003-04:00

For those of you who are confused about RSS, I wrote a guide a few weeks ago for ijtema.net. Unfortunately, some bizarre technical issues were preventing me from publishing it right away, so it was significantly delayed. It's up now, so head on over and have a look for yourself.

A Complete Beginner's Guide to RSS

The most common definition of RSS is “Really Simple Syndication”. Essentially, it is a standardized way of publishing frequently updated information. Many websites with frequently updated content will publish “RSS feeds” in order to alert readers whenever new material is posted...

WILTW4 – The Ottawa Terrorism Trial

2008-06-27T21:40:00.001-04:00

Like most Muslims in Ottawa, my attention this week was largely focused on the trial of Momin Khawaja. Momin was the first Canadian arrested under the post-9/11 Anti-Terrorism laws, back in March of 2004. His whole family was detained by police that day, with one of his brothers picked up from home, another from our university, and his mother from a grocery store. It was a calculated raid unlike any we had ever seen in this city, and the target was someone most of us knew personally. After four years, during which Momin has been locked up in an Ottawa prison, his trial finally began this Monday.

It was a confusing time, those first few weeks after the arrests. It shook the community to its core, forcing us out of our comfort zone and into a strange world of politics and conspiracy. Many questions were raised, none answered. We all thought it was a terrible mistake, and could not believe the accusations. The family was a respectable one, prominent within their community and active at the local mosque. But days after the arrests, their pictures were all over the newspapers alongside detailed diagrams of their neighbourhood showing the path that RCMP officers used to break into their home. Days after the raid, the media had already smeared their name and proclaimed their guilt. I can’t begin to imagine how difficult life has been for them since.

It still is a confusing time. The trial began with the testimony of star witness Junaid Babar garnering the most attention. Mr. Babar had already pleaded guilty to terrorism-related offences in the past, but has been testifying against others in an effort to lighten his sentence. Five British Muslims have already been sentenced to life in prison on his testimony, being accused of plotting an attack against a London nightclub. Momin is accused of having conspired with that group.

Reading the news has been rather surreal, seeing pictures of those parents that I had seen before at community events and mosque fundraisers, seeing our friends on television sharing their insight. The names being thrown around as unwilling participants in the alleged plot are names I see on my MSA mailing list. According to some of the testimony, “hockey” was used as a code-word for Paintball sessions in order to avoid suspicion; I’ve heard that corroborated by my own friends. Even some blogs I’ve read in the past have strange connections to the testimony being published throughout the world. It’s all very real and very local, and is equally as disturbing as it is frightening.

This is very different from the so-called “Toronto 18”, which is slowly being revealed as a complete sham of a case. No, the Ottawa arrest and the subsequent trial is far more calculated, far more drastic, with deeper ramifications for the future of national security policy and the place of Muslims in Canadian society.

Nothing is proven, of course, and the trial has only begun; it is expected to run for several more months. Undoubtedly, we will hear more testimony, more perspectives, and the overall picture will become clearer over time. In the meantime, I can only hope and pray that all is resolved in a just and fair manner.

In-Line Comments and Moderation

2008-06-27T21:00:00.000-04:00

I'm testing in-line comments in Blogger right now, which is a long overdue feature. The Captcha was really annoying with this in-line commenting, so I've gotten rid of it and enabled comment moderation instead. So don't think you're being censored, I'm just trying to make things less annoying.

What I Learned This Week – Part Three

2008-06-19T20:01:00.001-04:00

It’s been raining all week. Not exactly what one expects from the middle of June, but I actually enjoy the cool weather. And of course, I learned something from it.

It always rains in England. And I learned this week that I will not be going to England next month, as I had originally expected, due to some unfortunate bureaucracy. I was looking forward to the trip, as a way to take a break from what has been a fairly tiresome routine for the last few months. I suppose I had become too accustomed to the jetsetting lifestyle that took up most of my 2006-2007, and being grounded for so long has been somewhat frustrating. All things considered, most people don’t get the enjoyment of travel nearly as much as I do, so I should consider myself thankful for the opportunities I’ve had, and not dwell on the opportunities I lost.

Back to the Future wasn’t exactly accurate. My boss was worried about playing softball the other day due to the impending lightning storm, afraid that holding a metal bat would make him a prime target for being struck by a bolt of lightning. That triggered a moment of inspiration for me; I remembered reading once that the CN Tower is struck by lightning nearly 50 times per year. With a severe energy crisis, I thought to myself, can’t we harness that energy somehow? After all, it was certainly enough to generate 1.21 gigawatts to set off the Delorean back to 1985. A very large capacitor could potentially (har har!) be charged by a lightning rod, and then trickle the current out to the local power grid. Converting the CN Tower to a massive power station seemed brilliant, and somewhat practical.

Of course, I wasn’t the first person to think up the potential benefits of harnessing lightning. A quick Google search lead to tonnes of material about why it isn’t really as practical as one might think. The best article I read on the topic was this one, which concludes that even in the most ideal conditions, lightning will typically only generate enough electricity to power two households per month. Still, it’s an interesting area of research, if one could simulate the conditions that cause lightning in the first place. This article talks about a researcher trying to do exactly that. I’ll keep my eyes open for any further research on the topic.

I still don’t like sand. A colleague was suggesting I travel to Hawaii or Barbados using the remainder of my frequent flyer miles for a vacation I am planning for later this year. But after passing by a beach volleyball court the other day, I quickly remembered how much I dislike the feeling of sand, especially wet sand. If ever I wrote a personals ad, I would start it off with, “I hate long walks on the beach.”

What I Learned This Week – Part Two

2008-06-13T16:03:00.001-04:00

The cryptic style of my first WILTW post wasn’t really what I was going for. At the very least, I can be happy that it put some content on this site, but useless content is not much better than no content whatsoever. So WILTW will instead focus on whatever lessons I managed to take out of the events of this week.

And yet, somehow, life goes on. This could have been the punchline to one of my favourite Calvin and Hobbes strips of all time, but the panel that follows is just as memorable.

I was reminded of this comic a few times by a colleague who is a fantastic complainer, finding fault in every little thing, be it the weather, the cafeteria food, or the width of the hallway. I usually find this sort of extreme pessimism somewhat amusing, but it’s actually pretty sad. As one friend liked to often repeat, “people are dying!” and we are complaining about the most immaterial things. I often find myself guilty of complaining about minor things as well.

It’s often hard to keep that larger perspective, to sympathize with the sufferings of the rest of the world and appreciate how truly lucky we actually are. Sometimes, it’s just too depressing, and instead of instilling a sense of gratitude, we simply feel helpless and annoyed. Thus, taking some time to reflect on our own happiness is a worthy endeavour once in a while.

What is the value of tradition? Apparently, it’s $2.5 million dollars. That is the price that the CBC was unwilling to pay for continued use of the famous Hockey Night in Canada theme. CTV was rather shrewd in picking it up right away, effectively usurping forty years of tradition and history. It will be interesting to see how things play out next season, if that song alone can draw people away from CBC and to the rival networks.

Unfortunately, the hilarious Colbert segment on the fiasco was pulled from YouTube.

There are some professions that just wouldn’t suit me. I’ve learned this week that the following professions would not suit me at all:

Bus / Taxi Driver: I tend to take wrong turns way too often. Plus, I don’t even like driving.
Collections Agent: This is ironic because my first summer job was in Collections, and I was quite good at it. But I can’t seem to bring myself to ask for things back after lending to others.
Hitman: I wouldn’t even know where to begin here.
Chef: Cereal doesn’t count.
Judge / Police Man / Lawyer: I think I’d give people way too many chances if they seemed nice.

Other topics on my mind these days will hopefully come soon in the form of a more structured, better written post. Until then, have a great weekend!

Fish story

2008-06-08T00:19:00.005-04:00

I have a folder on my laptop in which I have a bunch of text files written when working offline. Some of them become eventual blog posts, but more often, I forget about them entirely until months later. This little piece was dated July 29th, 2007. I'm not sure what I was thinking when I wrote it, but perhaps it may resonate with someone somehow.

* * *

Pacific salmon
Swimming against the current
Don't you know?
The current won't shift
Passive, patient,
Calculating the flow
Take your time
You'll have your day.

Or another's.
Du jour, the special
Catch of the day
And a sandwich, a salad, a bed of rice.

Resist the tide.
Break the waves.
Though you may
Be eaten alive.

And challenge the fears that hold you back
And go down fighting, and not as snack.

What I Learned This Week - Part One

2008-06-05T22:11:00.005-04:00

I have really had a hard time writing of late. I am not quite sure why, as I have had no shortage of thoughts, and an adequate amount of time. I think my problem has been that I've been writing mostly long posts of late, and have hesitated to write simple, thoughtful posts that reflected what was on my mind at the time.

I'd like to write a post at least once a week, even if it means having "filler". So I will try starting a simple series of posts about "what I learned this week". These posts might not contain much insight, but will serve as a repository for my own memories, and hopefully become a springboard for deeper insights.

So, what I learned this week, part one:

A lot can happen in 35 seconds.

But being one second late can be disastrous.

Good character is of extreme importance to one's life and hereafter.

The standard rules of respect and courtesy don't apply on crowded buses.

Update 2008.06.06: And within the last few minutes, I have learned something new. Now, lying awake, I am now wondering if it was all a case of mistaken identity.

Fanaticism

2008-04-22T23:13:00.001-04:00

They say hockey is a religion in Canada. It binds fans, amazes them, frustrates them, and gives them something to believe in when all else seems amiss. For many, it is the hope that keeps them optimistic through trials. It brings people from all walks of life together - the rich and the poor cheer side by side when their team wins, and sulk and complain together after losses. From those sitting in the luxury boxes, to those listening to the games on a borrowed radio, everyone shares the joy and pain together.

It is no wonder, then, that it is also plagued by a handful of overzealous fanatics who tarnish the good name of the game and it's fans. When the Habs finally put away the resilient Boston Bruins in the deciding seventh game last night, the "moderate" adherents celebrated by cheering through the streets. Millions of people throughout the province watched with joy as the fourth and fifth goals were scored to dash any chance of an improbable Bruin comeback. But for a few dozen alcohol-fueled hooligans, cheering was not enough.

And so they set aflame police cars, smashed windows of nearby stores, and caused over a half million dollars of damage throughout downtown Montreal in a senseless riot. Just like 1993, when the Habs last won the Stanley Cup. And 1994, in Vancouver. And probably in dozens of other cities for other sports with other passionate fans. In spite of the healthy competition and pure athleticism that define professional sports, it also brings out the worst in people.

Fans of a hockey team are always judged by their class. Every city likes to claim that it is home to the "classiest" fans, while all other teams are characterized by how "unclassy" their fans are. And now the entire hockey world is calling out the people of Montreal as classless, while Montrealers are arguing that the riots were isolated cases that do not truly represent the city of Montreal or the people that live there.

All this seems very familiar to me. The voice of the "true fans", the vast majority of them completely horrified by the barbarism that took place last night, is drowned out by a small number of idiots. And what else are others to think, when the images they see in the media are that of burning cars, smashed windows, and senseless yelling?

When the images in the media portray the same sort of violence and insanity in the Muslim world, it hurts over a billion people in a similar manner. We know what everyone is seeing in the media, and we know it doesn't represent our beliefs at all. But for all our efforts to clear our names, the next case of stupidity cancels out everything good that was said and done.

A few days earlier, in Boston, a Montrealer was beaten nearly to death for wearing a red jersey and being French. A couple of drunk Boston fans punched and kicked him to the ground, leaving him unconscious in a large pool of his own blood. Nearly killed for, essentially, his beliefs.

Some people criticize religion, based on what they observe in the media. They complain that it warps minds, kills reason, and incites hatred. What happened in Montreal, what happened in Boston last week - this was all that and more. Just like one wouldn't blame hockey in general for these ugly incidents, one can't blame religion in general for the ugly acts committed in it's name.

What can be blamed, however, is alcohol. It is that, and not hockey itself, that drives people to such idiocy. It is an unfortunate reality that beer is part of the hockey culture in Canada. One can't sit down and watch a game without being interrupted by a number of nonsensical beer commercials. It is like this with most professional sports, I'm sure, but I can't be bothered to check.

I absolutely hate smoking and cigarettes, and I fully support all the laws that seek to suppress it. Tobacco companies are forbidden from advertising on billboards and in television commercials, smokers are forced to pay extreme taxes to feed their habit, and even the cigarette boxes are required to contain graphic anti-smoking messages. But in spite of all this, I've never heard of anyone causing a half million dollars of damage due to the influence of cigarettes. I've never heard of someone beaten brutally due to the influence of cigarettes. I've never heard of someone cause a fatal car accident because of a tobacco overdose.

Alcohol has done all that, and more. And yet, it is not only a tolerated habit, it is celebrated. And it is somehow spared of any criticism when incidents like last night in Montreal, or last week in Boston, happen. Yes, these incidents are rare, but still much more common than violent religious fervour, which gets all the press.

Alhamdulillah that Islam has protected me from the habits that drive people to such foolishness. For all that critics argue against Islam and other religions, it is perhaps the only force that will protect us from the most fatal influences.

Ijtema.net: New, Shiny, and Exciting!

2008-04-22T22:17:00.002-04:00

The long awaited ijtema.net revamp is complete! I'm a little late in announcing it, but better late than never. In addition, the winners of the photo contest have also been announced, so take a look at the many excellent submissions.

Other new features:

Beautiful new layout courtesy of Shazia Mistry
New Multimedia content - the best of Muslim art and video
Podcast reviews
...and more to come!

As always, you can contribute to ijtema.net by directing us to the best articles, videos, and audio content you find through your Internet journeys.

Enjoy!

Why I Will Never Become a Sens Fan

2008-04-14T22:34:00.007-04:00

In eight years in living in Ottawa as a big hockey fan, I have never liked the Ottawa Senators. Even through several relatively successful years, and a Stanley Cup run that came up just short last season, I never cheered for this team, or felt any inkling of excitement for their success. Even while my Habs missed the playoffs repeatedly, I could never bring myself to like the Sens in their stead.

I almost felt sympathy for them this year for enduring one of the most incredible collapses in hockey history, entering the playoffs as the underdog in a season they began with an astonishing thirteen straight wins. I wanted them to put up a fight against the Penguins, and maybe even advance to the second round. I wanted them to be at least somewhat competitive; I didn't want them to be completely embarrassed by Crosby, Hossa, Malkin, and the rest of the Pittsburgh team.

But they brought on the embarrassment themselves, with what must be the worst introduction to any sporting event in the history of the universe. I didn't like the Sens to begin with, but now I'm not sure I can ever like them, after this ridiculous performance.

I could hardly endure two minutes of this.

If you're going to do something incredibly stupid in front of twenty-thousand people, you should probably at least make sure your microphone is working properly and that your costume fits.

Whoever came up with that idea should be fired, and forced to eat Diamond Shreddies for a year. That might teach them a thing or two about marketing.

Plugs in my cereal

2008-03-30T22:09:00.005-04:00

As is my somewhat usual Sunday routine, I went out for grocery shopping this morning. I don't usually look for my cereal to be fortified with irony, but I definitely must give credit to the marketing team at Post Cereals for the ironic absurdity that are Diamond Shreddies.

As I picked up a box of Crispix, I looked over at a little girl in the same aisle, pleading to her mother to pick up a box of Diamond Shreddies instead of the boring old regular Shreddies she had already picked up. I couldn't help but laugh at the brilliance of this marketing gimmick.

For those unaware of Shreddies, it is a fairly wholesome whole wheat breakfast cereal, square shaped, usually served in a bowl with milk. There are variations, such as Frosted Shreddies (not halal), and a chocolate variant. Some top it with fruit or honey.

According to the website, recent advances in cereal technology have allowed them to take Shreddies cereal to a whole new level of geometric superiority. Yes, cereal technology. And geometric superiority. These people are amazing.

That 45^o degree rotation seduced the little girl, who beckoned her mother to select the rotationally advantaged cereal. The mother complied, and off they went down the aisle. The two cereals are exactly the same inside the box, but only one of them would have random consumers writing about them in their oft-neglected blogs.

One taste and you'll wonder how you've been so square for so long. Welcome to the 45th degree. Welcome to Diamond Shreddies country.

Yes, welcome to the 45th degree. Where I can actually write about cereal legitimately.

There's good in everything

2008-03-21T11:24:00.002-04:00

We don't usually have control of our lives. We dictate a portion of it through our efforts and perseverance, but life has a way of throwing curves which none of us can anticipate, and which can't always be handled. Athletes, for example, might dedicate their whole lives to their sport, investing every moment toward being the best they can be - and then a serious injury befalls them, and everything they fought for is lost. It only takes a second, and their lives are changed forever. And all they have left are the memories and the lessons.

I've always believed that everything happens for a reason. The good, the bad, and everything in between: all circumstances help shape the people we become, paving the path in our miraculous journey that begins at birth. Not only does everything happen for a reason, but there is good in all that happens. Many may not agree, of course, with that last statement. What good, they ask, can be found in the circumstances that have driven people to poverty, war, and overall misery? One would have to dig very deep to find any reason for optimism. I don't have an answer, but just keep reminding myself that with hardship comes ease. Verily, with hardship comes ease.

Of course, we often have to make the good out of the worst situations; it doesn't always come automatically. And when it does, it is not normally apparent at the time - only in retrospect do we realize why things unfolded as they did. In my own life, one of the best things to happen to me was the direct result of what seemed like the opposite of all my aspirations. A disappointing failure and poor decision-making on my behalf lead to the most important and most memorable period of my personal growth. Such is life.

In the last two weeks, two minor trials befell me. The good in the first incident became apparent only hours after the incident. But a day removed from the second incident, I am struggling to identify why things happened as they did. It all seemed like bad news at the time, and still does. Only with that confidence that there is good in everything am I relating this incident now, so that I may revisit it later and look back upon the unnecessary pessimism of my past self.

* * *

It began when returning to my apartment in Ottawa after a weekend visit in Montreal. Fifteen minutes after leaving my parent's home, my car starting shaking violently, possibly due to ice and snow clogging the exhaust port. Uncomfortable with the drive and only minutes past the bridge off the island, I turned back towards Montreal to switch cars with my mother.

I dropped off my own car at home, grabbed the keys to the old Volkswagen Golf, and headed back towards Ottawa. It was a pleasant journey in that little car, even though I've driven the Ottawa/Montreal stretch hundreds of times. All was well as I approached my apartment building nearly two hours later.

I arrived at my building, and turned into the parking lot to enter the parking garage, the massive door still open from a car just ahead of me. I advanced my car through the door, and BAM! The whole car shook, the heavy garage door having dropped right on the car. Normally, sensors would dictate that the door remain open when any cars are in the vicinity, but on this occasion, perhaps due to the heavy snowfall throughout the weekend, something didn't click. After parking and exiting the car, I realized that the door hit me much harder than I thought, and the bike rack above the Golf was knocked right off, left outside on the other side of the garage door.

At first, I was extremely annoyed that within two hours of borrowing my mom's car, I already got into something of an accident, with some minor damage. I realized after, however, that if it were fate that a garage door would drop on my car, it was much better that it fall on the Golf with the bike rack, rather than my Cavalier with it's naked roof. The damage would have been much worse, and could have even resulted in personal injury. The bike rack, there to insulate the blow, was a blessing. Those minor car problems I encountered in my own car, forcing me to turn back and switch, may have helped me avoid a much bigger problem later on.

* * *

And two short weeks later, I was to return to Montreal. A long weekend, and an important one for me. I left work early Thursday afternoon in order to get a head start on my drive back.

I prayed my Zuhr prayer in the local musalla, where I spoke with the imam for a short while. It turned out that he was on his way to Montreal himself shortly, with a flight to catch to Bangladesh later that evening. He was scheduled to take the bus before 5pm, though he worried about having to pray his 'Asr prayer on the bus or at the bus station. He was reluctant to combine prayers when he didn't feel it was necessary to do so, so we decided to travel together in the newly rackless Golf. It was better for me as well, as I get terribly bored driving that 417 alone; all we needed to do was stop off at the Greyhound station to exchange the first segment of his Ottawa/Montreal Return ticket for a 25% refund, and we would be off.

We arrived at the bus station, which was busier than I had ever seen it in all the years I used to commute. I parked the car, while the imam waited in line to return his ticket. Fortunately for me, the spot I parked in happened to have 25 minutes left on the meter, so I thought I'd get out of the car and take a walk through the station. Bad idea. As the imam was approaching the end of the line, I returned to the car. Putting my keys in the ignition, I recited a quick prayer for travelling, and turned the key.

At least, I tried to.

The key wouldn't budge, no matter how hard I tried to turn it. I tried and tried, jiggling the key as much as I could, with no luck. The imam returned, sat down next to me with a smile, saying "challé": "let's go". "I have some bad news," I told him, as I continued my futile attempts at starting the car. He tried as well, to no avail.

It was almost 4:30pm by now, and after asking a number of friends and strangers if they had any ideas, we realized there was nothing we could do but send him back on the bus. He got back in line to buy a new one-way bus ticket to get back to Montreal, while I dropped to the back of the line for the bus itself, behind what seemed like over 200 people. The poor imam would not get a bus at 5pm, I was certain, given the rush at the station. So I waited for the bus with his luggage, while he waited in line to pay the full-fare, one-way ticket, which happened to be ineligible for student rates. After forking over the extra money, he returned to my place in line, and by 5:30pm, he was on a bus towards Montreal. Even if the bus sped down the highway with no traffic, he would be cutting it very close for his flight. Of course, he apologized profusely for all the trouble, though none of it was his fault. I realized, though, that if the roles had been reversed, I would be apologizing as well, in spite of having done nothing wrong per se.

I returned to my car, still stuck in the lot. My free 25 minutes was long gone, so I kept feeding the machine quarters until I had finally run out of both change and patience. The first few friends I called were unable to come and help, so I was waiting there alone. With no idea what do or what would happen in the next few hours, I considered calling my airline and cancelling my own flight that was scheduled for early the next day.

Finally, another friend arrived. Lucky for me, he was an owner of a new Jetta. The paperwork in his car included the new number for the Volkswagen roadside assistance number. I called, and after several levels of navigating the touchtone menu, I reached a customer service agent.

"I'm stuck in a parking lot of a bus station," I told them, "and my key won't turn. It was working just an hour ago, when I left to go to the bus station." I wanted to request a towtruck, thinking any attempts to start the car would be futile, as there seemed to be some significant mechanical problem. But as the agent explained what I should do, I figured I might as well entertain the suggestion.

"Press down on the break as hard as you can, while pushing the steering wheel to the right also as hard as you can", she said. "While doing this, try turning the key ... as hard as you can."

Like that would ever work, I thought. But I followed her instructions, the key not moving.. I kept pushing, and finally .. click, click, putt, putt, vroom - the car started! I couldn't believe it worked.

I thanked the Volkswagen agent and my friend, and decided that now, two hours after my planned departure, was no time to leave for Montreal; I would go home, pray, and leave later in the evening instead. I called the imam, who was still on the bus, to tell him that I made it out.

He was only half the distance to the airport, he told me. And he had his flight in just over an hour. He also lamented having to complete his prayer on the bus. There was little chance he would catch his flight. He told me, "everything happens for a reason; maybe this was a punishment for something, or it could be expiation for us. I was too tired to go to the mosque at fajr time this morning, so I prayed at home - maybe this was because of that." I have no idea. Maybe someday, I will look back on all this, and find some silver lining, but I felt no reason for optimism at the time.

I'm sitting on my own flight now, with no information as to whether the imam caught his flight. Perhaps this little test of patience was something I needed; perhaps I had become too confident with my extensive travel experience, and needed something to bring me back down to earth - both literally and figuratively. Maybe I needed that little challenge in order to prepare me for my own journey. Many would say it was all for naught; that sometimes, things just screw up, with no rhyme or reason, and there's simply nothing we can do about it.

Yet somehow, I know that all this happened for reason. And that there will be good in it, someday.

Never a dull moment

2008-02-14T21:33:00.005-05:00

Poor Irrelevant Opinions doesn't get enough attention from me anymore. I had thought that I would be posting more often this year given my return to a normal work schedule, without the thousands of kilometres of weekly travel. However, the newfound free time has given me an opportunity to focus on a few side projects that I had been committed to, while writing, reading, and commenting on blog posts fell aside. Look for more information about those projects in the coming months.

Occasionally, I'll bookmark an interesting news article with the intent of writing a post about it. Unfortunately, I tend to forget about them until much later, at which point they are no longer relevant. Today, I happened to stumble upon this old article I had bookmarked about the Three Little Pigs, and Muslim sensitivity. Perfect material for me, really.

The gist of the article is that an adaption of the famous story was pulled from eligibility from a children's literature award for fear of offending Muslims. Not only that, but the book allegedly also offends builders, for as we all know, the pigs build houses of straw, wood, and brick. So if the people who are building houses are depicted as pigs, someone who builds houses for a living may get offended. Brilliant conclusion.

From the article:

The judges criticised the stereotyping in the story of the unfortunate pigs: "Is it true that all builders are cowboys, builders get their work blown down, and builders are like pigs?

Of course, nowhere in the article is a Muslim quoted, nor does anyone from the construction trade offer their insight on the matter.

Why, then, do these judges fear the repercussions of alienating Muslims and construction workers? And God forbid that there be a Muslim construction worker - he would probably go berserk.

The reality is that none of us really care. Pigs, in and of themselves, do not exactly offend most of us. They are the creation of Allah like every other animal. No, we will not eat them, and yes, we do consider them unclean. But they are on this earth for a reason, and surely serve some important purpose in the grand scheme of the universe.

As an open statement to the rest of the world: just ask; it will make you sound a lot less silly. I certainly appreciate your attempts to maintain equity and tolerance, but you should ask us before you tell us what does and does not offend us. You probably won't hear the same answer from every Muslim you ask, but only the most absurd amongst us would be offended by such a book.

Perhaps it was the silly cartoon controversy that put everyone on edge. As had happened with the Muslim world in the early years of this century, the rest of the world became more and more polarized in their attitude towards Muslims. There were those who would leave no verb unconjugated in ridiculing and cursing Muslims, and another camp that would adopt irrational measures to avoid offending us. Both camps often pretend to look for a middle ground, but ultimately come to conclusions that leave everyone unhappy.

Quebec has been in the spotlight for the last few months through the Reasonable Accommodation debates, in which politicians, panelists, and the public have argued over what that middle ground really is. It is unlikely that there will be some grandiose solution to all the problems, but it is perhaps a step in the right direction, with many prominent Muslims having their input heard. Nevertheless, even among Muslims, there is considerable disagreement. Having the hearts and minds of the participants unite on a consistent position is near impossible.

There are, however, some guiding principles that perhaps we can all agree on. First, the "golden rule" is always a good starting point: treat others as you'd like to be treated. Thus, if you do not want to suffer the ridicule of that which you hold dear, then do not ridicule that which others hold dear. If you want to uphold the dignity of your heritage, then let others uphold the dignity of theirs. If you want to protect your own values, expect that others will want to protect values of their own.

This alone is not enough, however. Another important principle is that one should never assume anything on behalf of another. Ask. Investigate. Learn. In a way, this can still fall into the ethics of the golden rule: if you don't want others to speak on your behalf, don't try speaking on behalf of others. Beyond that, though, we must humble ourselves to accepting that we don't have all of the answers on our own, and we need the input of others to form solid conclusions. Of course, swallowing one's pride is never an easy morsel.

A final fundamental principle involves fulfilling one's trusts. Keeping promises, honouring contracts, paying fair wages. If the fulfilment of trusts underlies all of the transactions and relationships between individuals in this country - whether they be immigrants or not, whether they be rich or poor, whatever colour - everyone will get their fair share, leaving no reason to complain. That is, of course, much easier said than done. But it needs to be said, regardless.

There are, of course, many other stories to discuss. The cartoons are back, an archbishop somewhere frightened Europe, a college meditation room sparked a vicious on-line hatefest... surely, there is never a dull moment in the depressing world of incriminating media coverage. Sure, we can try responding to each of these stories individually, protesting in the streets, and flooding the blogs and forums. Or we can simply adopt some common principles of ethics and morality, and leave a lasting impression within our spheres of influence.

Of course, none of this helps those poor construction workers. Oh well.

Imams are not the problem

2008-01-06T00:03:00.000-05:00

Away on holidays last week, I never got around to reading the comments around my "To my neighbour" piece when it was featured on altmuslim. Upon finally reading them, I found much of the same sort of rhetoric that I am tired of reading, that "radical imams" here in the West are somehow condoning or even encouraging much of the extremism taking place. Regarding the Aqsa Parvez murder, one reader mentioned that "it happened because the culture, absolutely preached from the mosque [...] and exhorted on Canadian Islamic websites" forced her father to kill her out of shame and a twisted sense of honour.

I often hear about these phantom "Canadian Islamic websites", but no one ever actually tells us what they are. Certainly, I have read some rather extreme comments by Muslims on blogs and forums, but I have never read anything that comes even close to condoning this sort of behaviour on any legitimate Muslim Canadian website.

And the imams of our mosques certainly are not encouraging this. I have not prayed in every mosque, but I have been in a fairly unique position over the last few years to experience Friday prayers in many different mosques in many cities throughout North America. The Friday prayer is usually a fairly good vantage point by which to get a feel for a Muslim community, and I've never heard anything of the sort from any imam, anywhere.

If it were only non-Muslims railing against these "radical imams", I could forgive them; they're not the ones meeting these people every day and learning from them. But too often, I read Muslims writing about these imaginary imams, never citing any specific examples, but ranting about how they are perverting the religion for their own benefit. I've heard this even from some of my friends, who themselves could not offer any specific examples, falling instead into vague generalizations before conceding the point.

One reader of my article cited an article about an Iranian cleric who allegedly said that "unveiled women should die".

A top Muslim cleric in Iran, Hojatolislam Gholam Reza Hassani said on Wednesday that women in the country who do not wear the hijab should be killed.

“Women who do not respect the hijab and their husbands deserve to die,” said Hassani, who leads Friday prayers in the city of Urumieh, in Iranian Azerbaijan.

Aside from the fact that the article is uncited and a Google search about this supposed "top Muslim cleric" shows that his only other noteworthy statements involved a campaign to "arrest short-legged dogs", the crux of the matter is that this person does not speak for us or Canadian imams, nor does he have any influence upon matters in this country. If I were to cite some random Romanian priest making some ridiculous claim, would this have any influence on the Christians in Canada? No, and neither would an imam in Iran influence the overwhelming majority of Muslims here.

The complaints against our imams can be that they are sometimes boring; perhaps some of them are not with the times, or lack the knowledge of contemporary culture to resonate with the people. But to condone and encourage the sort of aggression that took the life of a sixteen year-old Muslimah? You would have to search very hard to find an imam who will justify that. If one is found, I am certain that those who follow him would be quick to condemn the statement, and remove him from his post if necessary.

The same people who criticize the imams also speak of the "madrassas" as sinister Islamic seminaries where children are brainwashed with political propaganda and dreams of martyrdom. Again, these allegations are always vague, with no specific examples. Madrassa is not a scary word, it simply means "place of learning". And if you were visiting one for the first time, I'm sure you'd be very much underwhelmed - most are run by kindly uncles teaching the Arabic alphabet (often, quite poorly) in their basement or on the mosque floor.

I am not denying that there may be Muslims out there who hold extremist views. I don't believe they are nearly as much of a threat as the media make them out to be, but there are certainly some Muslims with beliefs that contradict classical teachings, who have a more militant understanding of the religion's history. However, these people are mostly the ones who have pushed aside the scholars and imams, who have failed to heed their advice. They are the ones who went off on their own, ignoring what the imams are teaching, while getting their knowledge instead from shady websites and shadier personalities. It is often through the connection with imams and community leaders that many youth today have protected themselves from extremist thinking, by aligning themselves with classical scholarship rather than letting their own overzealous enthusiasm dictate their beliefs.

Sit with them. Learn from them. Hear them directly, rather than let others tell you what they say and think. Islamic scholarship is a vast discipline with awe-inspiring science and people behind it. Muslims believe that the legacy of the Prophets is knowledge, and that Islamic scholars are the inheritors; we have such people in our midst, a treasure which should not be taken lightly. We as Muslims should show how much we appreciate that, lest it be taken away from us. And I invite any non-Muslims to visit our scholars as well, and hear from them directly; most would be happy to meet you.

Many of the imams and scholars have given up a lot for their communities, asking for little in return, and yet we continue to blame them for all that ails us. And though the character assassination efforts will continue on, these individuals ultimately deserve our honour and respect. It's the least we can do.

The Anti-Qiblah

2008-01-02T12:36:00.001-05:00

A few weeks ago, I learned of a neat website which uses the Google Maps API to identify the direction of Qiblah (prayer direction towards Mecca) from anywhere in the world. Naturally, I thought to use it to answer a question that has intrigued me for some time: what is the polar opposite of the Qiblah? That is, where in the world can one pray in any direction and still be praying towards Mecca in the shortest possible line? What are you praying toward if you're off by a full 180 degrees?

My cousin and I searched through the South Pacific until we found that specific point, using the Qibla Locator tool. While the exact polar opposite point fell in the middle of the ocean, a nearby island caught our attention. It was a ring-shaped island, quite unlike anything I had seen before.

View Larger Map

At the outset, the island appeared uninhabited. Google's satellite view did a remarkable job in allowing us to zoom into the details, and there were no immediate signs of human interference. But in those details, we noticed something quite unusual: the uniformity of the vegetation. Many of the trees were aligned in an odd grid pattern, almost as if they were replanted after being destroyed somehow.

Looking deeper along the northern perimeter of the ring, we did find some signs of human intervention. There appears to be some sort of helipad, and a few buildings scattered around it. The buildings were nestled perfectly within the grid of trees, leading me to believe that the same people who replanted all those trees have raised those buildings.

It turns out that there are a number of such islands along the South Pacific. The ring shape is a naturally occurring formation called an atoll, but the tree patterns are definitely not natural. I do wonder what is going on in this most remote of locations, furthest away from Mecca. Perhaps it is a nuclear testing site, where scientists are studying the effects of radiation on reforestation efforts. Or maybe they've genetically re-engineered dinosaurs, for the sake of building a massive theme park. Perhaps it is something far less sinister. Either way, it makes for some interesting speculation.

A study in contrasts

2008-01-01T23:36:00.001-05:00

Three days ago. Miami Beach.

Today, my car.

It's good to be home. :)

To my neighbour

2007-12-17T12:27:00.001-05:00

As part of the Monday original content on ijtema.net, here are some thoughts that crossed my mind after a discussion with a colleague.

I don’t blame you for having a skewed image of me. Every day, it seems like there’s another story that undoubtedly affects your perception of the Muslim community. Whether it be the ridiculous response to offensive cartoons, or the nearly daily attacks that take place in our war-torn countries, it must be difficult for you not to think we’re just a little bit suspicious. The murder case here at home, which has dominated headlines this past week, certainly does not help our case.

Read the entire post here, and leave your comments there.

Update 2007.12.24: You can also read the (slightly edited) piece at altmuslim.com, where it was recently featured.

I am completely normal

2007-12-11T21:24:00.000-05:00

After an extended lull, things became very busy for me very quickly, and I haven't had time to write anything. I still don't have time to write anything of substance, but I'll take a short break to respond to Manas' open invitation to uncover weirdness. Yes, I'm doing a tag. This won't become a habit.

I can recite the English alphabet backwards just as quickly as I can do it forwards.

I tend to get nervous when speaking with someone one-on-one, but am perfectly comfortable in front of large audiences. I've been on stage with no script in front of nearly a thousand people with no hesitations whatsoever, but I find I can't articulate very well when I'm with just one other person.

My right eye tends to tear up when it is even just mildly cold (it seems to start when it drops below -5 degrees). This has often lead to kindly strangers at bus stops asking me if everything was alright.

Not much more to say about this, really.

I can make a rhyme out of anything, a skill which I've exploited on way too many occasions. Back in CEGEP, I began my final Bioethics project with a sonnet in which I complained about how much I disliked my professor's teaching style. Though I criticized her openly in the poem, she found the idea to be brilliant, and only offered some minor rebuttals to my criticism while giving me 100% on the project. I also left a rhyme, a parody of an Eminem song, at the desk of one university professor, whose course I nearly failed because I capitalized the letter C in a filename. (Long, depressing story.) In my first week at work, I wrote and presented a poem to teach my team about the illegality of insider trading.

I really dislike sand. I've never understood the attraction of beaches; I appreciate natural beauty, but I just don't find anything appealing about sandy beaches. I can honestly say that I don't enjoy being at the beach at all. (So to those of you who I'm taking to Florida, we're not going to any beaches.)

Poor spelling bothers me way too much. If something is within my capacity to fix, I'll fix it. I still maintain my old MSA website, and whenever anyone posts a classified ad or forum post with bad spelling, I'll go into the database directly and make the corrections. I'll also fix Wikipedia entries, and even edit e-mails sent to me in Outlook when there are too many typos. (Although I don't know why Outlook lets you edit incoming e-mails - it seems like that should be a defect.)

Those of you who know me personally probably can identify other oddities, but overall I think I'm a pretty normal person. A normal person with a blog who doesn't like doing tags. Perhaps my aversion to tags, or almost anything else that's "popular", is a weirdness in itself. Or maybe everyone else is weird.

Irrelevance Day 2007: The Year That Wasn't

2007-11-25T23:23:00.000-05:00

Who would have thought I'd keep this going a third year?

And this year, I tried. Indeed, I tried putting an end to the irrelevance. There were numerous occasions in which I thought, "this is the last time I post on Irrelevant Opinions". I called it Irrelevant Opinions because I expected it to remain irrelevant, a mere pastime that I could leave as easily as I began it.

But moreso than any year prior, these silly pages had a significant impact on the year that was. It was certainly a challenging year; between the ludicrous amount of travel, a handful of side projects, and numerous family complexities, life was in a constant state of disarray. Things finally began to quiet down two months ago; life slowed down, until it eventually came to a complete halt. I didn't expect things to become so stagnant so quickly, after such a volatile year. After so much movement, I can't help but feel bored during this current period of calm.

And ultimately, I find myself in much the same situation now as I was last year. I didn't write much this year, but a lot happened behind the scenes. But, like a season of Seinfeld episodes, nothing really changed in the end. Characters had their entrances and exits, there were a few good laughs, some dramatic undertones, but the season finale left everyone in the same predicament as the season premiere. If a viewer wasn't paying close attention, he'd think he was watching reruns.

Like last year and the year before, I'll highlight my personal favourites from this year.

12.05.2006 - Andalus: Great documentary, and I like the post I wrote along with it.

2.06.2007 - Allegorical Absurdity: Goldilocks: The first in what has become something of a series across multiple blogs, this story is one of my better pieces of reactionary fiction.

4.01.2007 - ill relevant opinions: I don't consider this one of my favourites at all, I just want to apologize again for this. Sorry.

5.13.2007 - In Defense of the Sunnah: Remind, for reminder proves beneficial for the believers.

7.02.2007 - sillypost: A meaningless linguistic exercise.

7.25.2007 - And be not divided among yourselves: I reread this piece recently, and was surprised I wrote it. It made me realize that I'm a better writer than I am a person; I can only hope that I come close to the ideals I illustrate. Right now I feel quite disenchanted with my own personality; I need to become a better person.

2007.07.31 - Photos: Serenity: And Faraz finally gets a digital camera. Now, I can substitute actual content with failed attempts at photography.

2007.08.22 - Allegorical Absurdity: Three Little Pigs: The next chapter in the Allegorical Absurdity series. For the many of you who wondered about the "protected" Ugly Duckling post, again, I must apologize: this was a silly joke; there is no password, and no post hidden behind it.

So, here we are; another year gone by. I still enjoy writing, and I will continue to do so for a long time. These Irrelevant Opinions won't disappear, especially not for the petty reasons I thought to close it before.

Those of you who continue to visit and read, thank you for your kindness. Many of you have left, or will be leaving shortly. But if you happen to stumble upon these words, I wish you every success in all of your endeavours.

Photos: That Time of Year

2007-11-22T17:47:00.001-05:00

Not quite December yet, and we've already had our first ice storm. Those of my readers who remember January 1998 in Montreal will remember that in spite of the havoc wreaked upon the city by the vicious weather, there was such beauty in the destruction. Every branch and every leaf was encased in ice, crystallized, and the trees shined brilliantly underneath the moonlight. It is a shame that digital cameras weren't in common use back then.

Here are some random icicle photos from today's storm:

And there's my car in the background:

It took a few tries before I could get the timing right on this one:

And now, back to work for me.

Of all things

2007-11-19T22:00:00.000-05:00

We have a printout of an e-mail on our masjid notice board that alleges that Coke and Pepsi contain pork. Pork! It sounds quite reaching, almost as if the writer was just trying to scare people, but it's worth sharing regardless.

Personally, I avoid Coke and Pepsi because I don't like the way they taste. I've never seen anything corroborating the pork thing, though. The article itself seemed rather suspect, with little referencing and some rather silly statements (e.g. "Also drinking 6 bottles of Pepsi or Cola at a time causes instant death"). Here's the source of the article.

The scientific and medical research says that drinking Pepsi & Cola leads to cancer because the key element is taken from Pigs sausage. The heavenly books Quran, Bible and Torah forbids eating Pork, as it is the only animal that eats dirt, dung and urine, which makes lethal and deadly fabric polluted germs and microbes.

According to a report published in Jordanian magazine, the head of Delhi University's Science and Technology Center, Dr. Mangoshada scientifically proved that the key element in Pepsi and Cola contains extract from the intestines of Pig which causes cancer and other deadly diseases.

What do you think? Believable? Far-fetched? Silly? Well, it's no good for you anyway, so best to avoid it.

Binary Logic

2007-11-11T21:04:00.000-05:00

For some reason, I had this post in my drafts for the last six months, unfinished and forgotten. I didn't like it much then, but I might as well post it. In the absence of anything else, here it is.

"What is the matter, you don't like Eid? Why do you hate Eid?"

This was one of the stranger questions I've ever been asked by someone, and I had a really hard time explaining myself. As was the case nearly every year, there was division on the date of Eid-ul-Fitr, and I had chosen to follow the local mosque. My Egyptian roommate, who was nearly twice my age at the time, found it very offensive that I was not praying on the same day as himself. As much as I tried to explain the difference of opinions to him, he took my autonomy as a sign of hatred towards Eid itself.

I've heard the same sort of logic applied in many cases, where one is unable or unwilling to recognize a middle ground, or practice subtlety. Everything is simple, black and white, and not worthy of discussion. Particularly on matters related to Islamic rulings, I would encounter the same sort of mindless argumentation from Muslims who were simply incapable of understanding opposing viewpoints. For many, there is nothing between forbidden and required, between good and bad, between right and wrong. Such polarization occasionally leads to these people taking very principled stands on what they believe to be right, but often it reduces them to silliness.

I recall being out for dinner with a group of volunteers at a recent Islamic conference. Among the volunteers was a contingent of international students of Arab origin, who matched nearly every stereotype thrown at the Arab community. In earlier years, we found it nearly impossible to tap into the potential of this community; they would typically shun such volunteer work, and ignore these sorts of events. But through the outstanding people skills of one of our volunteers, one of the more influential brothers from this group offered his help. And once that one individual came in, dozens of others joined him. This group stuck together, for better or for worse, in whatever pursuits they found themselves.

As we ate our shawarma, one of the Arabs brought out a case of non-alcoholic beer. The Arabs jumped on the case quickly. A few of us, who happened to all be born in Canada, hesitated to touch the cans. While we knew it was non-alcoholic, the very idea of sitting around in a loud restaurant drinking beer did not sit well with us. We all politely refused.

This offended the Arabs. "Who refuses to drink this?", one yelled. Another interjected, "Wallahi! Who do you think you are!"

I didn't understand what all the fuss was about, until this comment:

"Brother! Allah has said not to make haram what is halal! Why won't you drink?"

And there it was. The faulty reasoning that plagues so many Muslims coming to North America - that anything that is not forbidden automatically becomes required. The mentality that we need to do something, just because we can. Above all, it is the mentality that wants to emulate the West as much as it can without blatantly overstepping the boundaries of Islam. I have heard this argument used to support everything from divorce to Loblaws chicken to smoking. That, coupled with "but the Prophet said Islam was easy!", make for a formidable duo in justifying any number of activities.

What transpired then was just one amusing episode of a bizarre addiction to non-alcoholic beer. I remember another friend telling me that he hates the way it tastes, but keeps drinking it anyway because "it is good for his kidneys". This friend was by no means the picture of good health and nutrition, so his insistence on strengthening his kidneys seemed rather absurd. In practice, he came across as someone who simply needed to feed a desire to appear Westernized while remaining within the realm of permissibility in Islam. There is nothing wrong with the action per se, but the silly justifications are tiresome and unnecessary.

Regarding divorce, I recall when a friend of mine complained about his then-engagement going through some bumps. "But I think we'll still get married," he told me. "If things don't work out, we can always divorce." Shocked by how casually he could consider divorce even before getting married, I pleaded with him to reconsider if he had such negative thoughts going in. He replied by telling me that even the Companions of the Prophet salallaho'alayhi wa salam divorced, so who are we to argue against it? The gaps in his logic baffled me. He never did end up marrying, eventually realizing himself that he could not make things work, and "divorcing later" was not an option he should ever have considered.

The lesson that must be learned is that things really aren't so simple. The ability to think critically on issues appears to be lacking in much of the Arab world, a cultural weakness that betrays the Islamic principles of reason. And this, in my personal opinion, is one of the main reasons that extremism does exist in the Muslim West. I don't think it's nearly as bad as the media would make it out to be, but it would be rather naive to say extremism doesn't exist at all. Individuals are lead to believe that there is no room for nuance, and that everyone must pick a side. And for a few, the side they pick is one which deviates from classical teachings. Admittedly, it is a rather large leap from halality of chicken to all-out religious extremism, but the commonality is in the failure to critically analyze and understand other opinions.

Education is the key. And producing hundreds of Engineers every year from every university is not the type of education that's needed; critical thinking needs to be taught from a young age. Debate and discussion needs to be part of the curriculum. Solid ethics needs to be the underlying principle in the pursuit of all education. And we must all learn that it's okay to be wrong every once in a while; it's a reality we need to accept.

Of course, I'll never hate Eid, but the fact that such a concept could even be imagined continues to tickle me all these years later. But the same mentality could be stretched to hatred of other things, and hatred breeds many dark ambitions. We don't live in a world where "good guys" and "bad guys" are as easily discerned as in the cartoons we grew up watching, and hatred is too strong a feeling to dispense so freely. As such, we need to do away with the lines being drawn in the sand, and take our positions based on our own critical analysis. Like Islam itself, the truth will lie somewhere in the middle.

Awake

2007-10-31T10:16:00.001-04:00

Ijtema.net is back up and running, as of today! JazakAllah to Manas for getting the ball rolling again.

But what is this website?

Ijtema.net is an initiative to scour and identify the best of the Muslim blogosphere. There's a lot of good content out there, but finding it is not always easy. The team at Ijtema.net goes through the laborious effort of digging through tonnes of content daily, to find the content that best articulates the issues that matter. Update 2007.11.08: I've added a little feed that shows the last five posts from Ijtema on the bottom-right corner.

But wait, there's more!

At least, there will be, insha-Allah. Stay tuned.

But what about Irrelevant Opinions?

As most of you know, I just took an extended break through all of Ramadhan and beyond. To be honest, nothing interesting happened during these few weeks, but it was refreshing. I'm still waiting for some inspiration to write, but things are at quite a lull. If I don't find anything meaningful to write anytime soon, I'll just find something to complain about eventually.

Weak Signal

2007-10-20T18:32:00.001-04:00

I was out for dinner a few days ago with a number of my old MSA friends that I had not seen in several years. Among those present at the dinner, half of the group was now married, while the rest of us were all in various stages of transition from academia to the working life. The topic of conversation briefly moved to marriage, and the married folk among my friends insisted on offering their thoughts and feelings on what marriage means.

One offered up this analogy:

"Finding a wife ... is like finding a good cell phone plan. It takes a long time, but if you get the right one, it's ... very good."

He tried supporting his analogy with some examples, but I don't think anyone quite understood the point he was trying to make. Or maybe it was just me; marriage metaphors are just not my thing.

"I'm on a Pay-as-you-Go plan," I replied. "I don't think that would be quite ethical..."

The evening remained quite enjoyable, but the married folks eventually had to leave, unable to join the rest of us for the obligatory post-dinner Tim Hortons trip.

"Yeah, I should get back home," one said. "My wife called a few times."

One of my friends offered the following retort, which finally made sense of the absurd cell phone analogy.

"Oh, so I take it you've ran out of minutes?"

Back Home, and Eid Mubarak!

2007-10-12T15:14:00.000-04:00

Assalamu'alaykum,

I pray everyone had/is having a wonderful Eid insha-Allah. We are celebrating tomorrow insha-Allah.

I'm back home after a couple of weeks away, and am just catching up with my e-mails and voicemails now. Things are very busy at home so if you're waiting on something from me, it will still be another few days at least. I probably won't post anything substantial here for another couple of weeks or so. Until then, keep me in your du'as.

All the best,
Faraz

Nightfall

2007-09-15T23:30:00.001-04:00

I was in Chicago when I received a call regarding a project I was needed for in Vancouver. "Three months," they told me. Three months, including a rigorous three week development cycle. I protested early on that such a schedule was impractical, but I did my best regardless.

Only fifteen months and over 300,000 kilometres of travel later would I finally say farewell to the ocean and the mountains of the Pacific coast. It was a bittersweet feeling booking that last one-way flight back home. But Ramadhan was approaching, and I could not deal with another such month breaking my fast each night in the office with Tim Horton's and Subway, all alone or with a Jewish colleague.

It seemed fitting that my first Tarawih of the year was performed alone in an airport chapel. It summarized my whole year; out of my element, isolated, but comforting in a way, with only Allah to hear me.

I made intention early on to make the most of the coming Ramadhan, to make up for the sense of community I lost when navigating a difficult travel schedule. Every year, I would hear someone give a speech about how thankful we should be for meeting Ramadhan again each year; a wise reminder, no doubt, but somehow it never quite struck me how valuable this time really is.

I must have given that same speech myself dozens of times. Particularly, my final semester at the university saw me delivering the brief post-Maghrib lecture every day. Even speaking the words myself, perhaps they failed to touch my own heart the way such reminders should.

I was at the end of my studies, managing a full course load with a part-time job. I never got to know the wide-eyed first year students who sat patiently with us every day. Often, they would ask my friends and I about university culture, residence life, and other points of academia. And us grizzled veterans would respond, sharing our war stories and attempts at wisdom. Unfortunately, they were mere faces to me, without names, and once I graduated they became distant memories.

These three students may have been among those who sat with us, ate with us, and sought advice from us. They may have been amongst those who heard the same message I keep forgetting each year, that every Ramadhan is a blessing that should not be taken lightly. And perhaps they believed themselves that Ramadhan was only a few days away when they decided to go swimming at Gatineau Park, and perhaps they too had the intention to take better advantage of the approaching month.

But life itself is a gift that can be taken away from us at any time. Each moment may be our last, and each moment can make or break our hereafter. I didn't know the three students personally, but I almost certainly had seen them before. Final year Engineering students in their early twenties, they certainly faced many of the same experiences and challenges I did just a few years ago. But their lives were cut short; undoubtedly, someday we will all join them.

Looking at my own life, I realized that I had become complacent over the last few months, anticipating a Ramadhan in which I would be able to realign myself after a turbulent year. It never occurred to me that I may not have made it that far myself, that "waiting for Ramadhan" should never have been an option.

But by the mercy of Allah, here we are. We all need the solemn reminders that come with such incidents as described above, but we should also remember that this month should be shared, enjoyed, and celebrated with our families and friends. Our sense of community thrives in this month - let us take advantage of it. Enjoy it. And let us all take it upon ourselves to nourish this love and togetherness, such that it is sustained well beyond this blessed month.

May you and your families all have a blessed, productive, and enjoyable Ramadhan.

Ramadhan Mubarak!

Rhyme-adan: I'm reposting this poem because it's silly enough to make me smile, while actually touching on some relevant points.

Photos: Seattle A bunch of random stuff

2007-09-11T23:26:00.001-04:00

The rhinoceros from the previous post was used to identify one section of the parking lot at Butchart Gardens. That visit was at the tail end of my final Pacific weekend, in which I tried completing the last of my personal West Coast goals. I wasn't able to cross every item off the list, but I did come close.

The first segment of my weekend journey was a road trip to Seattle. I've always had a slanted perception of Americans, thinking they were impolite and crass. My last couple of visits to Chicago only reaffirmed those perceptions. But Seattle was different; it reminded me that in spite of the ridiculous, imperialist policies of the nation to the south, the average American is not that different from us. The few people of Seattle that I interacted with had a very Canadian personality, and the city itself felt no different than Vancouver.

Of course, I didn't anticipate getting stuck in traffic for over two hours before the border, allowing me just shy of three hours to explore the city itself. Fortunately, the border itself was uneventful, with my interrogation limited to two simple questions about my Middle Eastern travels.

On reaching Seattle, I had only a few precious hours to explore the city. All alone and with only a few handwritten notes on driving directions, I found myself lost quite quickly. After driving around in circles for twenty minutes, I finally found myself approaching downtown.

I wouldn't recommend attempting photography while driving 120km/h, but it was the only opportunity I had. Nearly all of my Seattle pictures were taken from the car.

The sky took an almost alien hue on my return. Being stuck at the border another ninety minutes allowed me to watch the full sunset against the Pacific ocean, which was an absolutely incredible sight.

Though my American sojourn was extremely short, seeing this sign was comforting; there's no place like home.

More pictures here.

~~I'll try to get the Victoria pictures up for tomorrow, with my closing thoughts on Vancouver and the journey thus far. I don't expect to post anything through all of Ramadhan.~~

Update 2007.09.15: I'm not going to write anything about the rest of the weekend, I'll just post links to my public photo galleries.
Victoria

From 2007-09-02 Do...

Wax Museum - warning: some disturbing pictures here

From 2007-09-02 Wa...

Butchart Gardens - very nice pictures here!

From 2007-09-02 Bu...

Warning

2007-09-05T00:08:00.000-04:00

Rhinoceros crossing. Please keep your speed to 10 km/h.

Allegorical Absurdity: Three Little Pigs

2007-08-22T03:38:00.002-04:00

There once was a pig, who lived in the West
Amid the fields and mountains did this pig rest
Lush blades of green crowning the valley crest
A world of his own, quite different from the rest

But the elements were strong, at the winters' last thaw
The torrents coming down, from which pig could not withdraw
The pressure built with time, exposing the valleys' flaw
So he built himself a home of the sturdiest straw

'twas the finest stalk he could find, this little pig
and so danced the pig, a merry little jig!
not a strand out of place, not a single twig!
a basement for a bunker, did this pig dig!

And along came a wolf, or perhaps her twin!
Poor little pig, his hair standing on his skin!
"Little pig, little pig, let me in!"
"Not by the hair on my chinny chin chin!"

And she huffed, and she puffed, and gave it her all
And though the straw may have shifted, the hut did not fall
When at last the pig saw an escape, and began to crawl
To find another valley to raise another wall

Little time he had to spare, as another wolf was near
Little pig felt exposed, out there in the clear
Little did pig know that it was that time of year
When wolves do their hunting, when pigs should disappear!

And with the help of another, he built a house of wood
"This time they'd come back harder", as any wolf would
The straw hut did well, in the valley it still stood
But a house of oak and pine would teach those wolves good.

And thus the wolf approached, to the hut of oak and pine
As the pigs stood motionless in their little shrine
The hour was near, we'd see the strength of their design!
The pigs in anticipation, thinking they'd be fine.

And thus the wolf approached, with an evilish grin!
But the house was of wood, much to her chagrin
"Little pig, little pig, let me in!"
"Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin!"

And she huffed, and she puffed, to blow the house away
But in spite of heavy puffing, the house would not sway
Annoyed and offended, the wolf was heard to say,
"No fair, I'm a wolf, not a thing of play!"

Still insecure, the pigs thought it best to move
After all, the wolves would eventually find their groove
If they wanted to remain safe, they'd have to improve
And find a solution that mother pig would approve

A third wolf came around, coming from a land far away
Where pigs resist her taunts in houses made of clay
Perhaps this wolf would see where the first two went astray
And catch the little pigs without further delay

The house of wood was strong, but was it strong enough?
Rumour had it that this new wolf was very very tough
Wood may not have lasted against her huff and her puff
To beat this latest threat, they'd need some stronger stuff!

So three pigs conspired, they had to think quick!
This wolf was no slouch, they'd need something thick.
Finally, one pig thought, "why not use some brick?"
The others applauded, "that should do the trick!"

Thus, a hut was built, of the finest mortar and stone.
And the torrents came down harder, the wind would howl and moan
The rain pelted the rooftops, the storm disconnected the phone
And along came the wolf, and this one wasn't alone.

They imagined the walls crashing down, reminiscent of Berlin!
The pigs peeked out in fear, it was about to begin...
"Little pig, little pig, let me in!"
"Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin!"

And so she huffed, and she puffed, and she huffed again
Then blew with all her might, until her lungs were drained
The rustic house of brick was able to resist the strain
And the wolves decided it was time to end their campaign.

The first little pig remained in the house, withdrawn
Thinking the wolf threat was now completely gone
Little did pig know that the threat would respawn
As a fourth hungry wolf awaited on the lawn!

The pig heard a voice, and he called out from within,
"Who awaits on my lawn, and speaks therein?"
She said, "little pig, little pig, let me in!"
"Not by the hair on my chinny chin chin!"

"But it's huffing, and puffing, and going to get cold!"
Confused, the pig decided it was time to be bold.
He cracked open the door, and lo and behold!
Was a friendly little wolf, with a teapot in hold.

"I just wanted to know," she said, "if you'd like some tea.
You already offended my sisters, one, two, and three!
And I thought it would be nice to share, if only you'd agree
We're only trying to be nice and neighbourly."

And thus it became clear, this was no deadly scheme,
All that huffing and puffing was just the call of the steam.
And now poor pig has a reputation to redeem,
Learning that wolves are not always what they seem.

Bookshelf Identity

2007-08-12T00:29:00.000-04:00

Since the beginning of the year, I've hardly visited my own apartment. I've kept it around because I love the location, and it's been of great service to Muslim students that I've accommodated for the last little while.

Of late, I've been hosting large groups of visiting Al-Maghrib students in my apartment. I never actually meet these people, as I'm never around anymore. But often I wonder, when these people stay at my place, what impression does my home give to visitors who never actually meet me? As I returned to my apartment yesterday for the first time in months, I realized that my two bookshelves probably serve as the best indication of my personality.

In the foreground is my complete collection of Calvin and Hobbes, followed by project management notes I compiled during a training seminar I took last year. The rest of the books cover four years of Engineering studies, and a few other non-fiction publications. Sitting atop all these hardcover books is my little manual on changing the world.

My other bookshelf contains my Islamic content. The titles here effectively speak for themselves. The "Saviours of the Islamic Spirit" collection is a fantastic read, and the seerah shown to the right is among the best I've read. The top shelf contains the four volumes of Shaikh Abul Hasan's Qissasus Nabiyeen in Arabic, the reader of choice for the Shariah Program. All of these books were written by Shaikh Abul Hasan ali Nadwi rahmatullahi'alaih, whose contributions to modern Islamic scholarship are astounding. It is an unfortunate reality that such scholars, who transcended the petty differences we find our ummah mired in, are very few and far between today.

Overall, I do believe that the literature on my shelves is a fairly accurate reflection of my personality. I would imagine that any guests who perused my bookshelves would develop at least a rudimentary understanding of their host, even though they never met me in person.

What does your bookshelf say about you? Does it accurately reflect your personality?

This almost sounds like a tag. In which case, any blogger who is reading this is invited to display their own bookshelves, and share it with the world.

Update 2007.09.03: We have participants!

If anyone else has done this, then let me know and I'll put a link up here.

Photos: Serenity

2007-07-31T02:26:00.000-04:00

I finally decided that it was time to buy myself a decent digital camera. My first attempt at camera ownership only lasted a few days; I bought an Olympus FE-115, went to Whistler and took about a hundred shots, then returned it a couple of days later. It was the cheapest one I could find, and understandably so. It was rather cumbersome to use, and took way too long between pictures.

My new camera is a Canon PowerShot SD1000, which I am absolutely loving so far. At first, I thought most of the features were somewhat useless; I never thought I'd need an "Aquarium" mode, for example. But lo and behold, only three days after the purchase, I found myself in an aquarium, face to face with some pretty amazing looking animals.

The jellyfish were quite a sight to behold. The near translucence of their structure was something I had never quite seen before in a living organism. Truly amazing, subhanAllah.

The sea otters were napping at the time, but they looked pretty darn cute and comfortable doing so.

It never ceases to amaze me how much beauty there is even in the smallest creatures in nature, subhanAllah.

The camera purchase was also partially one of my first steps in my farewell to the West Coast. It has been an amazing experience, and I thought it necessary to capture as much of it as possible before I leave for good. There are a few sights I will miss in particular.

This was a new one for me, though I had passed this way so many times. I am not entirely sure what the intent of this monument is; does anyone have any ideas?

My weekend ended at the Pacific Coast, just a few kilometres north of the American border.

This is a fairly cliché shot, but I assure you that the lens flare effect is not photoshopped in.

A man can get a lot of thinking done in a place like this. Of course, I've done more than enough thinking. It's time to take some action.

Coneheads redux

2007-07-26T15:50:00.000-04:00

Canadian Islam 101: Wooden Domes? | Seeker's Digest

I'm loving this union of Islamic architecture and Canadian ingenuity. Seems like something out of Hobbiton, with a touch of Andalus on the side. As I start looking more deeply into the housing market, it's definitely something to think about.

And be not divided among yourselves...

2007-07-25T01:29:00.000-04:00

And hold fast, all of you together to the Rope of Allah, and be not divided among yourselves (3:103)

A rather unhealthy discussion took off recently on a Muslim blog that I visit. I've mentioned before how much I dislike on-line discussion forums, because most of them degenerate into pages upon pages of ad hominem attacks and mindless nonsense; it is much worse when the parties involved are Muslim. Earlier, a similar argument took place among some friends, who had forfeited their mutual friendship over some rather petty disagreements on the issues of the day. It was rather sad how two individuals who had been together for so long became enemies so quickly, as anger and pride robbed them of rational thought and reason.

I had read and heard a great deal from scholars about the merits of reconciling disputes between Muslims, but I have never been much of a mediator. Without access to the friends and mentors whose advice I'd normally seek in such cases, I went straight into my collection of hadith and found some beautiful words that are worth sharing here. It also serves as a fitting follow-up to my earlier post on anger.

On Anger:

Abdullah ibne 'Umar radhiAllahu'anh narrates that Rasulullah salallaho'alayhi wa salam said, "No gulp swallowed by a slave of Allah is dearer to Allah, the Almighty and Majestic, than a gulp of anger which he swallows, seeking nothing other than the pleasure of Allah." (Musnad Ahmad)

Ibne 'Abbas radhiAllahu'anh narrates that Rasulullah salallaho'alayhi wa salam said, "Teach people, and give them glad tidings, and don't make things difficult for them, and when anyone of you gets angry, he should remain silent." (Musnad Ahmad)

Silence. Whether it is holding our tongues or holding our keyboards, a little silence can go a long way in maintaining cordial relations.

The second hadith quoted here also speaks of remaining optimistic, and being easy on people. Unfortunately, many Muslims get scared away from Islamic discourse, whether it be in the masjid or on a message board, because we fill these discussions with prohibitions and punishments. Such discourse would be more fruitful and inviting if we were to maintain a pleasant demeanour, and focus on the positive.

On Reconciliation

Abu Darda radhiAllahu'anh narrates that Rasulullah salallaho'alayhi wa salam said, "Shall I not inform you about something more virtuous than fasting, prayers, and charity?" The Companions replied, "Certainly, do tell us!" The Prophet answered, "Harmony and unity between you is the most virtuous act, whereas discord amongst you wipes clean the Deen, just as the razor cleanly shaves the head. Similarly, fighting and hostility amongst you perishes the Deen." (Tirmidhi)

I recall a virus of rumours that had infected my circle of friends in the MSA. It started off as a personal matter between two people, but quickly escalated to one that threatened the very organization. I recall my own judgement being clouded by the thoughts that had entered my heart about the brothers in our circle; lines had been drawn, and it quickly became an "us versus them" matter. Of course, I believed at the time that I had done nothing wrong, that if only "they" would apologize, everything would be fine. We placed the burden of responsibility on the "others", while they placed it on us.

Fortunately, may Allah bless him, one brother saw through this mess and brought it forward, bluntly and honestly. It became apparent that none of us were guiltless; we all contributed to fostering this hostility. While some of us may not have actually said or done anything to perpetuate the rumours, we actively participated in them simply by harbouring them in our hearts. We let the hatred live. We gave it a home, provided it fuel and shelter, and thus we were equally guilty in sowing disunity as those who initiated the rumours.

We talk about "unity" as a slogan frequently, and we also talk about shedding labels amongst Muslims; but in practicality, we're still criticizing one another, and allowing hostility to fester amongst ourselves. The problem is not that we, as a Muslim ummah, don't seek unity today; I sincerely think we do. The problem is that we all think that unity means that others have to conform to our way, our philosophy. It's a function of pride; why should I be the one to compromise, after all? We're all for unity, so long as we don't need to change our own lives in the process.

There is no panacea that will cause every Muslim to agree with one another. Unity must mean respecting one another in spite of our differences. Mere tolerance is not enough; we must honour one another, as Allah has honoured all of us by virtue of the belief in our hearts.

When our own episode of hatred was brought to light, I could not help but think of the rewards that brother must be receiving for his role in bringing us back together. Our little group went on to accomplish some great things, none of which could have been achieved had we let a little pride and anger conquer our brotherhood. Years later, and our group remains tight, though we are now considerably divided geographically.

Sometimes, it just takes a little kick of hatred to find true friendship.

Not with a bang, but a whimper

2007-07-18T01:12:00.000-04:00

I've always wondered what I would sound like when I finally got frustrated enough to let loose. Frankly, I was a little disappointed.

I've normally been one to reserve my emotions considerably. Occasionally, I would express frustration within a small circle of close friends and family, perhaps, but never to the point where I would say things I regret, or lose control of my better judgement. I never swear, much to the amazement of old high school friends. I used to tell them that swearing too much lessens the value of swearing; I explained that because swearing was so common for them, they'd have no vulgarities to express themselves when they were really feeling frustrated. Everyone knew that if they heard me swear, it would mean that I was extremely angry, because such language had never been heard from my lips before. Fortunately, no one ever had to hear it, because nothing ever angered me enough to even raise my voice. All those years of reserved emotion made me unsure as to whether I could even express myself if I needed to.

It finally came crashing down last week, after the pressures of sustaining a half million dollar project by myself caught up with me. And when I got to that point, unloading all that had accumulated, I was rather surprised at how polite it all was. Still apologetic, my voice no louder than ever before, I worried that my faint plea for help lacked the urgency that raw anger brings with it. It almost felt like a waste, that even in my worst moments, I still came across as quiet and reserved. I had seen others explode before; yes, they would say stupid things, but they were definitely heard. At the very least, it was always a spectacle to see the energy and passion that came from those outbursts, even if the consequences were ultimately against their favour. My own outburst was almost laughable in comparison.

An impending flight cut short my rant, which was probably for the better. I didn't say everything I wanted to, but perhaps I would've let something regrettable slip in if given the time. As I struggled to find sleep over that flight, I thought to myself, was my sorry excuse for frustration even worth it? What was I so upset about anyway? Reviewing all that I had gone through, it all seemed so trivial and inconsequential. Even my weak expression of exasperation seemed overdone and unnecessary.

Anger can only get one so far. It's an emotion that has a powerful reach, channelling energy we didn't know we had, but it is nearly always destructive. There are the rare people who can translate their anger into positive action, but the majority of us let it consume ourselves. It brings out the worst in us.

The Prophet Muhammad peace be upon him once said, what could be loosely translated as the strongest man being not the best wrestler, but the one who controls himself when he is angry. It's true. Anyone can develop physical strength, but the passion of rage will conquer that strength every time. Someone who can conquer that rage, to suppress that passion, has done something far more difficult, far more worthy of respect. That restraint will win more battles than rage ever will. Just ask Bruce Banner.

An old mentor of mine once advised me strongly, do not get angry at people. He said that no matter what a person may do to push your buttons, always look for the good in that person. No matter how hard you have to dig, no matter how deeply it may be buried, there is at least some good in everyone, and our job as Muslims is to find that good, and to wish well for that person. That hidden iota of goodness may, after all, be what changes that person forever. The Prophet salAllaho'alayhi wa salam saw good in 'Umar radhiAllahu'anh, for example, even when Umar's sworn mission was to kill the Prophet. Thus, at no point should we hold a grudge against anyone, or wish harm upon anyone, because we never know what good may be found in that person. Our Prophet was sent as a Mercy to the worlds, and consequently this ummah is also one of mercy; we are not an ummah of revenge or vindication. Whether our anger is justified or not, whether it is grave or trivial, conquering that anger with patience will always yield better fruits than succumbing to it.

My own weak outburst left me only mildly satisfied at the time, and is proving now to have been a big mistake. In retrospect, the hour I spent narrating my frustrations will probably cost me a few points in my performance review, and I'll regret it if I get passed up for promotion. One Day, our entire lives will be subject to a performance review, and each moment that we held malice or unwarranted anger in our hearts will likely cost us a few points again. On that Day, however, "promotion" is eternal, and there's no "waiting until next year" if we are passed up.

Gee, had I known...

2007-07-14T01:20:00.000-04:00

Canadians can now mention bombs, guns at airports | Reuters

Good news from the world of Canadian air travel! I think it might be safe to say that I'm at least among the top hundred most frequent air travellers among Canadian Muslims within the last sixteen months (over 250,000km so far), so anything that makes my travel safer is good for me.

So if I ever run into you at the airport, old friend, I'll greet you just as enthusiastically.

Congratulations, Hooptygoo!

2007-07-11T23:33:00.000-04:00

The haiku-loving Hooptygoo successfully identified the secret of the sillypost, with this haiku comment:

That is amazing!
You wrote the entire entry
Without using 'e'.

I didn't use the letter e in any of my comments on that post either, which forced me to use bizarre constructions like "third guy talk" instead of "third person voice". I left three hints, the most obvious one being the intentional misspelling of the name Hajera. Ironically, most people I know with that name spell it without the e, which is why I explicitly apologized for the typo in the comment itself.

So there you go. I'm sure very few of you care either way, but it's nice to see someone figure it out.

Feeling Pessimistic

2007-07-11T01:27:00.000-04:00

Bush to name Muslim nations envoy | BBC News

This is a rather old news story that I had bookmarked with the intent of writing about at some point, but I never got around to it. As far as I know, this envoy has not yet been named, but it will be interesting to see who they pick, and what their selection criteria are. If the administration's pick for UN ambassador is any indication, the job will go to a terribly unqualified political sellout with no understanding of the Muslim world whatsoever.

It's rather simple, Mr. Bush, that if you want to "improve relations" with the Muslim world, stop invading our countries and torturing our people. No amount of political posturing will change our minds.

On a related note, how much relevance does the Organization of the Islamic Conference have in the Muslim world? I don't know much about them, but the name has been coming up much more often of late. In principle, it sounds like a very noble organization, but do they actually matter to the Muslim governments in the world? Do their positions hold any weight?

* * *

Australia 'has Iraq oil interest' | BBC News

This has already been written about in other blogs I read; it amounts to a nearly open admission of the motivations of the Australian government in deploying troops to Iraq. The news, while not really "news" to most people, has been discussed at length on numerous on-line forums. I absolutely hate on-line news discussion forums, as the maturity of the dialogue on them is usually atrocious, but I still often read them to get a feel for what the "general public" thinks about these matters.

On one such site, I read the following comment which I found extremely disturbing:

For those who think that oil isn't worth going to war over, spend one day without using any petroleum based products. No plastics, no lubricants, no gasoline. You'll have to walk everywhere, but make sure there's no plastic in your shoes. Make sure your clothes are 100% cotton -- no polyester please. You can cook your food only if you have an electric stove and your local power plant isn't oil or natural gas. Gas water heater? No hot showers for you (no cold one either if your shower head is plastic), which is ok because you can't use soap. You can't drive to work, nor can you ride a bicycle (plastics and lubricants again). No computers, no phones, no TV, no electricity.

Everything we have depends on oil. Going to war for oil means going to war to defend our way of life.

I don't know how mainstream this sort of view is, but it is one of the first times that I have heard someone defending the war for exactly those reasons that we deem it illegitimate. Typically, defence of the war in these types of forums comes from people who are still under the delusion that we're spreading democracy in the Middle East. It's not uncommon to find this sort of defence rife with spelling mistakes, vulgarity, superfluous exclamation points, and at least one comment about how "dumb leftists just don't get it". This was perhaps the first time that I read someone clearly articulating why they believe in the war without resorting to childish name-calling and label-dropping. And yet, the complete disregard of human life in this is frightening. The idea that the war is justified to defend your own way of life, with absolutely no consideration for the thousands of lives you're destroying in the process? Absolutely sickening. Such displays of complete indifference to human suffering frays whatever little faith I have left in humanity.

[Protected] Allegorical Absurdity: The Ugly Duckling

2007-07-08T18:49:00.000-04:00

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sillypost

2007-07-02T15:23:00.000-04:00

Youth, many say, is an opportunity for trying things, taking risks, and ignoring winds of caution. Thus it was that a boy, worrying that his youth was finishing as a boring rut took hold of him, sought to do a thing against his traditional fashion, and find his own way. Would changing his approach assist him in putting a stop to this rut? Probably not, but it was worth a try.

This boy, unassuming and shy, sat in front of his companions, thinking of a way to show his ability. Hoping for a small victory, any victory, this timid boy stood up, and with a bold look, said to this group in front of him: "Look! Today, I will do a thing that you saw not in past posts. And you will think, why do such a thing? I know not, but as unusual as it is, my opinion was that it could occur. And thus it was, that I did so."

That boy was I, and that situation was just now. What did this boy do, that I just did?

Outsourcing Friendship

2007-06-25T23:44:00.000-04:00

I suppose I should have expected that I'd be posting again here. Whatever issues lead to the brief closing of these pages have been resolved, and even the Action Alert to rescue Target Theory was successful. But alas, I have found myself without much inspiration to write, no topic that kindled an urge to share any thoughts. Even though I said I would continue, I haven't written anything significant in over a month. Of course, the solution to this is to simply write about not being able to write.

It is no surprise that blogging is so popular; the sense of community that comes with it is quite astounding. The Internet is vast, and typically anyone can find a place they fit in somewhere, somehow, no matter how absurd their interests. People will naturally find others who share their views and opinions; it is only the natural next step that they share their feelings and concerns. Eventually, some share their secrets. Formerly strangers, they are now a family of sorts, their lives are inextricably connected.

Whether we like it or not, on-line communities have become an important part of our society. I work closely with people I have never met, but they are no less a part of my team than those I see every day. My professional community consists mostly of people I rarely meet, if ever. But the location independence of these relationships are what make them so effective; I rarely spend more than four days in a row in the same city, and any relationship that required physical presence would fail. My work would suffer as a result. Because distance is not an impediment to these relationships, we remain functional and productive.

From a professional standpoint, I can accept this. In order to compete in an increasingly globalized society, one must leverage all the human potential one has access to, wherever that potential may reside. If someone in India can help me do my job better, then by all means I will enlist his help. The technology exists to allow this person to help me in almost any way. The unfortunate consequence of this is that the person down the street looking for a job may be overlooked in favour of the eager, cheaper supply of skills overseas. Much has been written on this topic already, and I don't want to repeat what has already been discussed to death.

When this sort of relationship penetrates our personal lives, things become a little more complicated. As part of our fitra, our state of nature, we rely on the physical closeness of people to remain socially healthy. As children, it begins with our family, our parents in particular. That physical closeness, that most fundamental social structure dictates the people we become as we grow up. It plays into our early childhood, as we navigate through the hierarchy of primary school. There is always the socially awkward group, there are always the bullies, there are those in between. Children will undoubtedly jump from one group to another; one can't be typecast as a bully forever, for example, based solely on their behaviour in the first grade. But it is because of healthy social interactions that one will move away from dirty playground politics, towards a friendlier future.

While psychologists will never stop debating the roles of nature and nurture in human development, it is clear that one's upbringing has a significant impact on their behaviour as adults. An unhealthy upbringing is often the warning sign of an unbalanced individual, and analysts will often look at the social interactions of a suspect to identify their motivations when a crime is committed.

So when those social interactions move entirely out of the physical realm and into cyberspace, will this have the same impact on developing a person as traditional social interaction? In the same way that local talent is often overlooked in favour of resources abroad, we will often overlook our local communities for friendship in favour of on-line, "outsourced friendship". We are only at the beginning stages of this right now; on-line social networking is still in it's infancy. Most of us still remember a time before the Internet, even though we may not look upon it with fondness. But in this part of the world, anyway, we are the last generation like this; I can still remember what life was like before Wikipedia, when even simple high school research required time and effort. I can still remember when communication with my cousins was limited to the rare occasions of expensive long distance phone calls and six-hour road trips. Future generations will not know such a world; anything less than instant access won't be enough. I do prefer things as they are today, but at least I recall when things weren't so simple, so that I can better appreciate how far we have come.

On-line forums were all the rage at a point, and I had become quite active in one several years ago. What I discovered there was the ability to be someone else, perhaps someone better. In that particular forum, being "better" was debatable; my on-line persona was a thugged out cereal mascot, part of a gangster legion played out by my friends. But however we represented ourselves, random people came to like us, admire us, and even trust us with their deepest feelings.

One young member of that forum happened to be contemplating suicide at the time, and e-mailed me privately for help. While the suicide thoughts were the product of simple teenage angst and disaffected emo culture, unlikely to materialize into anything substantial, he took whatever advice I provided to heart. Eventually, the troubled child changed his mind. For months, this member thanked me for saving his life, even though my contribution was negligible at best. I don't believe to this day that I wrote anything special or beyond what any decent individual might say, but the value of an on-line friendship became apparent to me then. I never thought much about it, but in this child's troubled youth, my thugged out cereal mascot became something of a saviour.

I kept thinking about why there was no one real to have offered that same advice. All I told him was that there was still so much to be thankful for, in spite of what he perceived to be significant personal problems. That little amount of kindness and optimism was apparently the only kindness he had been shown in years. I would have considered his case to be an exceptional one, except that over the years, numerous other on-line acquaintances from that forum have thanked me similarly for renewing their faith in humanity. That particular forum eventually closed, but I still occasionally get e-mails from it's members thanking me for the positive influence I left on them.

Has the world become so cruel that we require outsourced friendships? Do on-line relationships lessen the value of personal contact in any way? These concerns have plagued me for some time now.

I pose these questions, ironically, out to the Internet, where approximately 95% of my readers appear to be from cities and countries that I have no actual contact with. Your thoughts on the topic would be much appreciated.

Action Alert: Save Target Theory!

2007-06-07T03:22:00.000-04:00

When I wrote that I would be ending this blog, I didn't expect it to set off a reaction that would indirectly lead to the end of the blog of my cousin Nauman. Most of you who read my blog either only came to know of it's existence through Nauman, or have become fans of Nauman through my link.

And now he wants to leave! I feel responsible and rather disappointed by this, so I'm briefly reopening comments in order for you, loyal readers and ex-readers, to show your support for Nauman through your comments. In spite of his melancholic nature, Nauman remains a champion of good will and dependability for all his friends and family, and is among my short list of favourite people I have the pleasure of being related to.

So sign away! Let Nauman know that you want his voice to be heard!

Update 6.14.2007: Success! Well done, team.

Comment Bug Fixed

2007-05-13T22:06:00.000-04:00

Thanks to a reader who pointed out that commenting wasn't working in Internet Explorer for some reason. It turned out to be due to a defect in a minor template change I made; it didn't seem to affect Firefox or Safari, though. I think I've fixed the bug now.

In defense of the Sunnah

2007-05-13T03:57:00.000-04:00

I remember the deeply offended look on my friend's face. He was, by nature, a very emotional person, but that one moment he appeared to be even more distraught than usual.

It was during Ramadhan, and I had just finished setting up the classroom for iftar. This meant stacking up all the desks and tables, pushing aside the chairs, and setting up the curtains that closed off the sister's section. Typically, there would be two hundred students breaking fast together during my university years, and it was always an honour to be part of it.

I asked my friend what had disturbed him so; I shouldn't have been surprised by his response.

"A lot of brothers are complaining," he said. "They want to start the food right after the Maghrib jama'ah is over, they don't want us to wait for people to finish their sunnah. They say they're just sunnah." Those were the words that infuriated him. Just sunnah. I hadn't known this friend for many years at the time, but we had gone through quite a bit together in those years; we had travelled together to some of the most outlandish places I've ever been, and he always came across as someone who truly loved the Prophet, peace and blessings be upon him. In his actions, in his speech, and in his dress, this friend always inspired me by his dedication to the Prophet.

"Don't they realize what they're saying?", he continued. "They're basically saying 'it's just Rasulullah, it doesn't matter. It's just the last and final Messenger, upon whom the way of life for all of humanity until the Day of Judgement had been conferred.'"

It's true. Often, I hear this same remark about something being "just sunnah", implying that it doesn't hold importance or that it can be ignored. Certainly, there are varying levels of leniency with respect to the obligation of certain actions, but that does not obviate the spirit of the sunnah.

There seemed to be two distinct waves of revitalization amongst the youth in the Muslim community where I grew up. The first wave, approximately between 1994 and 1996, was smaller and less dramatic, and included just a handful of people under the guidance of some very dedicated elders in the community. I am a product of this first wave. For our small group, there was a considerable amount of guidance from community leaders and imams who always imparted in us the value of the sunnah.

The second wave was almost exclusively a youth movement, and it touched the entire city. It brought together hundreds of like minded Muslims through sports and social activites, and brought a new energy to the masaajid. Instead of the traditional lectures from imams that us in the first phase participated in, the second phase was characterized by youth circles and discussion groups. Many young Muslims who may have felt uncomfortable with the imams and community leaders were at ease in these youth circles. Thus, the effects were far more dramatic, and brought together a positive change within the community. But in distancing themselves from traditional scholarship amd guidance from elders, there was some unfortunate fallout with this new energy. Many were deprived of the emphasis placed upon the sunnah, and often it was ignored altogether. I do not mean to criticize their efforts, for certainly they did outstanding work that they will insha-Allah be rewarded for. However, it was a common trend that acts from the sunnah were dismissed as unnecessary.

Now a decade later, the community has matured considerably, and the pioneers of those youth movements have taken their roles as community leaders in their own right. But the distinction still remains in that the sunnah is often neglected with the newer crowd; I've been to Islamic events where it was of great inconvenience to the organizers that people would choose to pray their sunnah prayers after the completion of the jama'ah. Sure, the events may have been calling towards the revival of the sunnah, but do those extra prayers on your own time. These same people were the most vocal during the cartoon fiasco, but would prefer to speak and dress like hip hop artists than the Prophet.

It should be understood that sunnah does not mean "optional". Something that is sunnah is something that was practiced and encouraged by the Prophet salallaho'alayhi wa salam. There are sunnah that the Prophet never left during his lifetime. Some Companions sought to emulate each and every single little sunnah to the minutest details. And anyone that loves the Prophet should also love his sunnah, as has been emphasized in numerous hadith.

Certainly, sunnah is not just those two extra units of prayer, nor is it just the simple clothing or beards or whatever else we often dismiss. It's also the character, the conduct, and the interactions, and to have one without the other is superficial. But this does not mean that we can ignore the more outward forms of sunnah; they're all part of who we are, and shouldn't be belittled or deemed unimportant.

I felt the need to write this in order to give due credit to people who do their best to maintain both an inward and outward appearance of being Muslim. Often, I hear comments by people who insist that donning a hijab or keeping a beard or any other outward act of faith has nothing to do with being a Muslim, and it's only what is in the heart that matters. Yes, it's what is in the heart that matters, but if the feelings in our heart do not extend even so far as our bodies, then there is likely something missing from that heart. Of course, only Allah knows what the heart truly contains, but the outward disposition and behaviour usually offers at least some hints.

I should be the last person writing about this, as my own life is riddled with inconsistencies, not just in the matter of sunnah, but even with the fundamentals. But too often, we dismiss these aspects of our faith; this is a reminder to myself, first, in that I have knowingly neglected so many opportunities to strengthen my connection to the sunnah. We reduce the religion to a set obligations and non-obligations, losing the spirit of what it truly means to be following in the footsteps of the Messenger of Allah. And we fail to pay due respect to those who really do struggle for the sake of maintaining the sunnah; often, we would go as far as belittling them.

In the end, my friend did succeed in maintaining the status quo, accommodating all those people who chose to pray their sunnah prayers. He also succeeded in teaching everyone to wash their hands before eating, and to sit on the floor in a respectful manner while eating. Sure, they may have been relatively small acts of worship, seemingly insignificant in the grand scheme of things. But perhaps those little acts will be the little bit that can tip the scale the right way.

Buddy, can you spare a quarter for some international espionage?

2007-05-08T01:25:00.000-04:00

Do my Canadian readers remember a few years ago when the Royal Canadian Mint issued a series of memorial quarters, with a bright red poppy on the front of the coin? It always looked unusual to me, with a red splotch in the middle of a traditional silver coin. But having read of Flanders Fields so many times as a child, I've always appreciated the poppies everyone would wear around Remembrance Day, and thought the colourful coins to be a clever and unique way to pay tribute to the fallen soldiers.

Well, it turns out that the United States Department of Defence was convinced that the coins were embedded with nanotechnology to spy on US Army Contractors. It was suspected that radio transmitters were embedded into the coins in order to track the movements of any individual who happened to be carrying one.

This level of fear and paranoia of the seemingly innocuous is one reason that in spite of all their so-called efforts to "promote freedom", the US is doing itself in. They live in so much fear, where every little thing from a Canadian coin to a tube of toothpaste is enough to provoke panic and dread. I'd feel sorry for them if they weren't so arrogant.

Cerebration

2007-05-04T20:03:00.000-04:00

My mind has been in too many places over the last few weeks and months. As each day goes by, I keep promising to myself that I'll sort things out soon, that I'll reach my goals and clear my mind. But the to-do list keeps getting longer, and the destination keeps getting further no matter how hard I work to reach there. Allah is with the patient, I keep reminding myself. Still, patience can only take one so far; hard work and dedication are key.

With that being said, I'm just going to spill out some thoughts here, with no attempt at cohesion.

Soon, incoherence will be the lingua franca of our times. It seems that texting has become a national sport. Am I the only one who finds this somewhat disturbing? The studies are inconclusive, but I have to believe that future historians will look upon this trend as a low point in communication and the written word. Then again, this same generation has made it commonplace to publish one's deepest thoughts to a worldwide audience, so perhaps there is hope.

Nothing markets better than the truth. My manager and I have both been suffering a nagging cough for over a week. During this time, I finally discovered Buckley's Mixture, a famous Canadian cough syrup; "It tastes awful. And it works", the tagline says. And it certainly does. As soon as I poured it in my teaspoon, I felt disgusted by the bland, colourless liquid that splurted out from the bottle. Taking a deep breath, I downed the teaspoonful of mixture into my mouth in one gulp, whereupon my face and mouth started contorting inadvertently. Such an incredibly vile taste, it was. But within seconds, I could feel the effect through my throat and sinuses, and the relief was instant. Now it has become common practice at work for my manager and I to step out of meetings to "take a shot of Buckley's".

It seemed like the natural thing to do was to visit the company website, and learn more about the sludge-coloured syrup I had just swallowed. For a website devoted to cough syrup, it turned out to be incredibly hilarious. The current contest has participants filming themselves downing the liquid, with the winner being the one whose "bad taste face" is the most twisted and unpleasant. Of course, all this is part of the Bad Taste Tour.

(Buckley's did not endorse or sponsor this message in any way; I just like the product.)

Sometimes, the simplest of reminders are the most effective. I was standing outside the masjid with a couple of friends, one of whom is a colleague based out of another city; he had helped me get my job in the first place, offering me useful interview tips and suggestions. He had been around a lot longer than me, so I'd often solicit his advice with respect to my career, especially with regards to the balance of religion and career obligations. I expressed my concerns about the corporate culture, the same concerns I wrote about here. As I had often been advised to network and establish connections with the senior folk in the company as much as possible in order to advance my career, I lamented that my own reserved nature would hinder my progress. After all, as a matter of principle, I would never even go near any gathering in which alcohol was served, even though these sorts of events were considered to be the best ways to establish oneself and meet with the right people. I expressed a bit of frustration perhaps when I said that I was losing opportunities, even though I would not waver on my principles.

My other friend turned to me immediately and said "No, you aren't losing opportunities. Opportunities are from Allah; there is no progress in disobedience. Allah will open the opportunities for you so long as you keep to your path. Your rizq is already written." It was a message I had heard hundreds of times before, but it meant more to me at that moment than every other time I had heard it. Alhamdolillah for friends who remind me when I forget.

I'm not a very obedient citizen of "blogistan". My posts come few and far between, and my reading list keeps getting shorter. Furthermore, I tend not to participate in the tags that go around. But considering my infrequent updates, I thought I would share in the "Thinking Blogger Award" that has gone through the rounds before finally arriving at me. There is a surprising amount of quality content out there on the blogosphere amid all the nonsense, and I hope I can call attention to some of those pages that I have learnt the most from. At the very least, the content here will make up for my own infrequency.

Seeker's Digest: This is the blog that inspired me to start my own, back in 2003/2004. Not because I share a name with the author, but because he touches on all the things that interest me, be they theological, technological, or academic. On top of that, he offers scholarly insight where most bloggers tend to fall into the layman variety.

Disconnected Verses: This one is new, still finding it's feet perhaps, but the artistic talent being showcased here is unquestionable. Individually, all the contributors were impressive; now, they are all in one place for our reading convenience.

Indigo Jo Blogs: I don't comment here much, but the content is generally poignant and educational. This blog covers mainly current events from a British Muslim perspective, but there is something for everyone.

Writing, Clear and Simple: I've picked up a lot of tips from this blog which I believe has improved my writing. While I haven't fully solved my apostrophe problems, I have fixed some other common errors of mine thanks to this blog.

Lifehacker: I dislike most technology sites, but Lifehacker is different. I'm often asked by colleagues as to how I can complete tasks so efficiently with my computer, and my answer usually references some information from Lifehacker. While the tips are mostly computer-related, Lifehacker offers a plethora of information on general productivity and life skills.

None of these blogs are really personal ones, so this tag won't go any further on those sites. I believe the rules of the tag originally called for us to reference specific posts that "made me think", but there are too many to count.

Enjoy!

Photos: Easter Weekend

2007-04-13T01:53:00.001-04:00

In the absence of relevant content, here are some photos from this past weekend. I think I tried to go for some artistic effects that I've seen done really well on Flickr, but in the absence of a tripod, and working with Shan's digital camera that ran out of batteries every ten minutes, the results aren't great.

Here are a few of them, anyway.

Defining Diversity

2007-04-04T20:34:00.000-04:00

A few weeks ago, I was invited to a technology conference in the famous windy city of Chicago. Nearly 900 people attended, mostly North Americans but not exclusively, brought together by the prospect of stumbling upon that next great idea, and to hear from experts what the future may hold.

In the opening address, the host paid respect to the diversity of the crowd. And looking around, there certainly was a lot of variety; many colours and shapes, from the East and the West, and I certainly wasn't the only Muslim around. Browsing the guest list as I reached the hotel, I found at least a couple dozen Muslim names, mostly South Asians but a healthy dose of Arabs as well. And in that crowd of people, at the heart of corporate America, I actually felt like I fit in.

That feeling didn't last long. Surveying the audience, I noticed the uniformity of the participants. Yes, there were black people and Hispanics and Indians and Chinese people, but somehow they all looked the same. They all sounded the same, and they all dressed the same. There was an almost robotic feel to the crowd. In spite of the multitude of traditions and customs that their ethnicities may have been known for, in this forum, everyone followed a single custom, portrayed a single personality. Even as I first reached O'Hare Airport prior to the conference, I was able to easily identify others who were attending the same event simply by their appearance and gait.

At the end of each day, the inevitable alcohol would come out, and I would disappear off to explore downtown Chicago. I was saddened to see that a number of those participants with Muslim names gracing their nametags would be drinking along with everyone else, likely out of a desire to fit in with that crowd and make key connections with industry leaders. I was often told about how important it is to network with the senior people in the industry, and networking in corporate America invariably means sharing drinks with a person. In spite of all the ethnic diversity, social interaction was limited to the practice of only the corporate West. There would be no sipping tea with these managers, and no Tim Hortons to discuss all the issues of the day; alcohol was the fuel that built relationships in this world, and I had no interest in taking part.

As I wandered through Millenium Park (pictured above), I kept thinking that the diversity that was being applauded earlier was entirely superficial. Ethnic diversity means little if one loses all the uniqueness of that ethnicity, and religious diversity means nothing if there is no accommodation for religious difference. Of course, one can't please everybody, and what is a restriction for one may be an obligation for another. So where does that leave those who won't trade their values for the sake of fitting in? It usually leaves them on the outside looking in, and that will always be their personal challenge to overcome.

I've had the honour of working with a number of outstanding people who have seen diversity beyond the superficial recognition of its existence. I've been a part of some fantastic teams that embraced diversity not just in words, but in practice - and that definitely strengthened our effectiveness. But those appear to be exceptions, and on a large scale, whatever diversity exists in the corporate world still remains shallow.

It remains a challenge, and perhaps it should remain a challenge. Perhaps our strength lies in our ability to overcome societal norms. After all, few have ever achieved anything by simply following the course. Let the current flow as it may, we must hold our place.

Update 4.5.2007: More pictures here.

ill relevant opinions

2007-04-01T16:29:00.000-04:00

It's been over a month since I posted here. In my defense, daylight savings time hit several weeks earlier this year, so the month of March was an hour shorter than usual.

During this hiatus, I thought to myself, "what am I missing?" And now I know. There was a certain edge that was missing. A rage, if you will. The sort of rage that is best expressed through convoluted rap lyrics. So here goes; as of today, Irrelevant Opinions has gone ghetto, and none o'ya can say nothin' to make me change my mind, dawg. An' from now on, ya can call me MC Slam.

yo .. one two .. check one two

yo, we'z back and we gots a new attitude
so y'allz best sit back, expressin' your gratitude
for deze opinionz, clever and astute
if you don't like 'em, yer gonna get da boot
cuz deze rhymez keep comin' an' flowin'
a real sight to see when mc slam gets goin'
i keep rhymin', ain't no sign of slowin'
flyin' rhymez like some kinda boeing
yeah, we'll rap, through thick an' thin
so grab a coffee, and roll up da rim to win
an' if you loze, and ya ain't feelin' cheery
express your melancholy at target theory
dats da place to go when yer feelin' weary
breakin' down like my chevy cavaliery
so listen to me an' my cheezy ebonics
i ain't hooked on dope, yo, i be hooked on phonics
so keep readin', you an' yer minionz
keep readin' deze irrelevant opinionz
y'allz be thinkin' dis blog waz dead
but deze new rhymez give me mad street cred
no more bloggin' 'bout bugz in my cereal
now i'm goin' wit' da gangsta material
no more expressin' my irrelevant viewz
an' droppin' random links to cbc newz
now i be bloggin' 'bout drugz an' booze
while i pump my funky basketball shoez
if ya don't like it, don't try to sway
me away from my amazin' new bloggin' way
ya better not be hatin', ya better not provoke
ya better understand dis be an april foolz day joke
so y'allz best follow yer noze an' wiggle yer toez
cuz everyone knowz da rhymez we compoze

aight man, let's get outta here
w0rd to your brother

Update 4.1.2007: Special thanks to Google, for their new free broadband service which allowed me to post this.

Maryam

2007-02-19T02:52:00.000-05:00

Please pray for my 16-month old niece, Maryam. She remains in the hospital over a week after sustaining an injury to the head, and is in poor condition. The injury is far more serious than anyone initially suspected.

She is the daughter of my youngest brother, Hafiz Asrar. He and his wife have been undergoing considerable strain and anxiety, as one might expect; thankfully, the community has offered tremendous support, with friends and family coming from all over. There are additional subplots to all this causing additional distress to our entire family, but the health of the child remains the deepest concern.

Please remember all of us in your prayers, that Allah grants shifa to Maryam and lets her lead a normal life, and that Allah grants comfort and peace of mind to her parents and my parents, and that this ordeal comes to a quick and happy ending.

Update 2.28.2007: Alhamdolillah, she's out of the hospital now, though far from 100%. I want to thank everyone who visited, offered advice, or supported us with their thoughts and prayers; you all know who you are.

Law scholarship named after Maher Arar | CBC News

2007-02-15T12:55:00.000-05:00

Law scholarship named after Maher Arar | CBC News

University of Ottawa has a special place in my heart, being my alma mater and home for many years. This new scholarship is a wonderful token of appreciation on the part of the university.

Last year, Arar was the keynote speaker at the Graduation Dinner I had the honour of emceeing. His advice to the graduates was simple - never underestimate your own worth, and don't back down if others try to compromise or undermine your worth.

"The scholarship was initiated by Tyseer Aboulnasr, an electrical engineering professor at the university and a member of the Canadian Muslim Network, Leslie added."

On a somewhat related note, Dr. Aboulnasr was the dean of the Faculty of Engineering when I started at the university. It was quite a pleasant surprise for me, to see a Muslim woman in hijab in such a respected position. Her first address to the new students included these memorable words:

"Now, I know a lot of you are coming from out of town, and you believe university is all about freedom, and that Engineering is all about drinking and partying. But there are lots of extremely successful Engineers who have never had a single drop of alcohol in their lives, including myself!"

That statement made me feel a little more comfortable with the fate that brought me to Ottawa against my own hopes and desires. As the years progressed, I realized why I ended up there; I truly believe it was one of the best things that happened to me. We all have our own plans, but Allah has His plans. And surely, He is the best of planners.

Allegorical Absurdity: Goldilocks

2007-02-06T00:37:00.000-05:00

Once upon a time, a young girl named Goldilocks was prancing through the woods during a brisk fall day. Of course, she wasn't the brightest of little girls. She should have known better than to wander the woods alone, and it certainly wasn't a good idea to embark on this journey with no provisions. Lost, cold, and hungry, Goldilocks wasn't sure if she'd make it through the night. So when she stumbled upon an isolated house in the forest, her first instinct was to knock on the door and hope the owners would invite her in for dinner.

So she knocked and knocked, and yet no one would answer the door. But when she gripped the large wooden doorknob herself, she noticed that the door wasn't locked. So the little girl named Goldilocks took the liberty of inviting herself in.

The house was much bigger than she expected. Inside, she saw a beautifully decorated dinner table stretching far into the main hall, with a warm fire burning in the fireplace. The finest china, expensive silverware, and ornate napkins were neatly laid out in front of each of the dozens of chairs surrounding the table. And at every seat, there was a hearty bowl of porridge prepared for the eventual guests. What a feast the owners had prepared! What great fortune that the tired and hungry Goldilocks stumbled upon this house in the middle of the forest!

Goldilocks was hungry. There was no one home. So, without hesitation, she tasted the porridge from the first bowl.

"This porridge is too hot!" she exclaimed.

So, she tasted the porridge from the second bowl.

"This porridge is too cold," she said.

So, she tasted the third bowl of porridge.

"Ahhh, this porridge is just right," she said happily. "But perhaps just a bit too salty."

So, she glanced at the fourth bowl of porridge.

"This porridge is too dark!"

Fortunately, there was a fifth bowl. She took one hefty spoonful to her mouth.

"But this porridge is too light!"

And the sixth bowl? "This porridge is just too thick."

And the seventh was too thin.

The eighth? "Oatmeal, barley... I should really watch my carbs."

She tasted from the ninth bowl of porridge, but it tasted a bit old. The tenth bowl seemed undercooked.

And this went on. And on. And on.

* * *

The three bears had returned home. Papa Bear, Mama Bear, and little Baby Bear. Not shortly afterwards. Not the same night. Not the next day. It was nearly a week later that the bears finally returned, after a disaster relief effort in a neighbouring forest kept them busy. They were, after all, very noble bears, always willing to help a soul in need.

And there she was, she of the golden locks, lying faint in the hall. Malnourished. Thin. Her face laying in a small puddle of her own drool. Her golden locks were dirty and wet. Papa bear looked upon her with shock.

"A little girl!", exclaimed Papa Bear.

"Is she alright? Is she breathing?", Mama Bear cried, as she ran to the sick child. She was still breathing, but she had clearly lost consciousness. Mama Bear brought some water, and did her best to wake up the fallen Goldilocks by giving her small sips.

"But what about all the porridge we left out for any visitors?" the baby bear lamented, as he bounced up to his little chair. "Someone's been eating my porridge, but she only ate a bite!"

With this, Goldilocks began to regain consciousness. Just a little, but she managed to squeak out two words. "Too ... salty .. " With that, she collapsed again into the arms of Mama Bear.

Papa Bear looked at Mama Bear, who in turn was affectionately looking upon the poor, hungry child. Papa Bear felt little sympathy, though. "Some people," he growled, "are just too picky."

Two Triumphs, One Failure

2007-02-01T23:47:00.001-05:00

I've been much busier than expected over the last few weeks, thus the relative inactivity here. Thought I'd share some thoughts on some recent news stories.

* * *

Last week, Prime Minister Stephen Harper formally apologized to Maher Arar, who was also awarded a compensation package of over $10 million dollars. This is a monumental triumph not just for Arar and his family, but for all the embattled masses who feel things are hopeless. There are a number of lower profile cases which are equally as disturbing as that of Arar; insha-Allah, all the others who are suffering the same injustices will have their voices heard.

The Bush administration, on the other hand, has demonstrated their hypocrisy once again in this affair. The US refuses to take Arar off the no-fly list, in spite of the extensive inquiry and process Canada has taken to clear his name. They say it is rather "presumptuous" for Canada to dictate who should and who should not be allowed in their country. This is just ridiculous; the only reason he was detained in the first place was because Canada provided the inaccurate information - this was proven in the inquiry. Now, after years of thorough investigation, Canada is basically saying "we were wrong", so is it not presumptuous of the United States to question Canada when they admit to their mistake? Was it not presumptuous to deport a Canadian citizen to Syria to be tortured? They say they have "their own information" that justifies their decision, but this is almost certainly their way of saying "we don't admit to our mistakes."

Clearly, they are simply afraid of a similar legal battle that they will likely lose. They're also afraid that if they were to admit error in the Arar affair, that would open a whole other can of worms. Arar is likely just one of many innocent individuals who have been made to suffer by the current administration. If these individuals were to take the stand Maher Arar did, the entire administration could be exposed as the criminals they are.

Articles:
Ottawa reaches $10M settlement with Arar | CBC News

Wilkins slams Day for questioning U.S. on Arar | CBC News

* * *

In other news, Saku Koivu, the Finnish heart and soul of the Montreal Canadiens, has been cleared of his cancer. Koivu has easily been my favourite hockey player for many years, not because he is talented at the game, but because he's an incredibly courageous person both on and off the ice. He doesn't put up the points like many of the other stars of the league, but his value goes far beyond the goals and assists.

It was September 11th, 2001, early in the morning, that I first heard the news. I was at the Montreal airport after a flight in from Moscow. I was delayed at the airport considerably after an extensive search was done on all my belongings and I was questioned at length about my journey. A lot of other things happened that day as well, but one thing I recall from my time at the airport was being told that Saku Koivu had cancer. At only the tender age of 26, the life of the young man was on the line.

He fought the disease as he's fought all the other trials in his life - with courage, persistence, and incredible patience. And any Habs fan will remember the day well, just before the end of the season, when he made his triumphant return to the ice in a 4-3 Montreal win over the Senators. The win would propel the Canadiens into the playoffs for the first time in four years, where Koivu (with the help of Doug Gilmour) would lead the team to a thrilling six game victory over the #1-ranked Boston Bruins.

Articles:
De très bonnes nouvelles pour Koivu | RDS

Jack Todd's Top Ten Heroes: #4, Saku Koivu | Montreal Gazette

Top 30 Sports Moments of the last 10 years: #1, Saku Koivu | RDS

Some older articles that I enjoyed:
C is For... | ESPN

Light shines bright on Koivu, and his prospects for life | ESPN

And a memorable video:
Saku Koivu's Return from Cancer | YouTube

* * *

And on another completely unrelated topic, Windows Vista was finally released. As a technology consultant, part of my job is to stay on top of all the latest developments in software. As an annoying pedant, part of my job is to notice typos and spelling mistakes (while, admittedly, making my own). Here, in a Vista demo video from microsoft.com, I was able to do both:

Looks like someone forgot to run spellcheck.

Simple mischief?

2007-01-17T00:03:00.000-05:00

Vandals ransack Muslim school in Montreal | CBC News

59% of Quebecers say they're racist: poll | CBC News

Last night, a Muslim school in Montreal, École des Jeunes Musulmans Canadiens (JMC), was attacked. Twenty windows of the building were smashed, while the windows of the bus were shattered and garbage dumped in the aisle. My 6-year old nephew is a student at the school.

Montreal police said it is too soon to tell if the vandalism can be considered a hate crime.

"We're treating this as a simple mischief right now," Const. Laurent Gingras told CBC News on Tuesday.

This occurred a day after the results of a poll were released revealing that nearly three out of every five Quebecers consider themselves at least mildly racist. They won't call it a hate crime, because they only do that when Muslims are the suspects and not the victims.

[The poll] found 36 per cent of Quebecers have a bad opinion of Jewish people, while 27 per cent have a poor opinion of blacks. Fifty per cent have a bad opinion of Muslims.

These numbers don't surprise me, though I grew up and lived most of my life in Quebec. I'm curious to see more of a breakdown as to what parts of Quebec were more likely to admit racism. Montreal, where the attacks took place, is generally quite a functional multicultural society, though there have been a number of recent incidents that have marred that reputation. I spent two years in Gatineau, a far less diverse community despite it's proximity to Ottawa, and the racism there was far more blatant.

Some suspect a correlation between this poll and the attack on the school, proposing that perhaps this attack was a reaction to the survey results. That doesn't make much sense to me. This isn't a reaction; rather, it is an illustration of the poll results; it is an example of the 59% racism in the province, and a reflection of the 50% of the population that has a poor opinion of Muslims. Who would react to a poll in such a way?

What is disturbing about events like the one today at JMC is how it might affect the children. These are very young students; I doubt they understand why people might feel hatred for them. For a 6-year Muslim child from a Muslim family going to a Muslim school, with little interaction with people of other beliefs, this can potentially shatter their early beliefs about the sheltered society they live in. In 2004, the library of a Jewish elementary school in Montreal was set ablaze by a firebomb launched by a masked man. A year later, a 19-year old Muslim was charged in the attack, and sentenced to two years in prison.

Many children, inspired by Saturday morning cartoons, grow up with a very polarized view of the world, one of heroes and villains. For the young child gazing at the shards of glass in his classroom or ashes of the library he used to love, it becomes very easy to believe that the world really is that simple, and that the villains are truly lurking at every corner. It also becomes very easy to declare who the villains are.

In this country, children this young shouldn't even know how to hate. But we insist on teaching them.

Of Premieres, Prairies, and Prayers

2007-01-08T19:24:00.000-05:00

These are interesting times for Canadian Muslims.

Tomorrow is the series premiere of "Little Mosque on the Prairie", a new CBC sitcom about the daily happenings of a young Muslim community in rural Canada. It is the brainchild of Muslim filmmaker Zarqa Nawaz, a young Muslim mother of four, who has a number of films already to her credit. There has been considerable excitement leading up to tomorrow's premiere, with international media attention falling upon this unique take on Muslim culture.

What I like about this is that it is advertising itself as a take on a certain part of Canadian culture, rather than a take on Muslim culture. That is, it runs on the assumption that Muslims are part of Canadian culture, rather than a community removed from the rest. Just as other sitcoms may take a humourous look at other cultures that make up the greater Americana, "Little Mosque" appears to take a similar approach. My initial worry was that while this may be hilarious to people like me who would likely understand all the "inside jokes", it would not appeal to a wider audience. When a father looks upon her scantily clad daughter and mutters "Astaghfirullah!", would Mr. Joe Average know what this means? That, coupled with the fact that CBC sitcoms rarely garner enough interest to turn viewers away from American television, lead me to believe that while creative, this project would likely not succeed.

But perhaps that isn't an issue. The humour for most people may precisely be in the fact that the protagonists of this story are different. It wasn't only stuffy aristocrats who enjoyed Frasier, and I imagine that only a few of the regular viewers of Prison Break are former convicts. Ultimately, what matters is that the characters tell an interesting story. I rarely watch television, but I know I've laughed at humourous takes on Jewish, Italian, and American culture. Can others laugh at ours? They laugh at my stories of flimsy stereotyping, innocent misunderstandings, and Jum'ah shoe-switches; perhaps there is potential. Perhaps I can even contribute my own scripts.

There are of course certain conflicts of interest that this whole series presents. I won't get into them here, except to say that the culture of the arts often presents significant challenges for a practicing Muslim. One little-known aspect of my life was my early passion for theatre and improv. There was a time in my life when I considered it a legitimate career option; in fact, many people from my former improv team actually have made a career of it, and have been quite successful on the national improv circuit. But as Islam became more and more important to me, I realized that there was little chance of finding the right balance in that environment, with those people. If the team behind "Little Mosque" has managed to find that balance, I would like to know how. If not, the series may fall into the trap of inviting to Islam by falling into the unlawful. A male can't introduce Islam to a female by flirting with her, nor can a person promote Muslim culture by having Muslim actresses demonstrate their normalcy by wearing skimpy clothes on national television.

The series premiere of "Little Mosque on the Prairie" is being aired at 8:30pm EST on CBC. Anyone else among the Canadians readers planning on watching this? I'd love to hear your thoughts. And for those outside of Canada, have there been any comparable projects overseas?

Whoops...

2007-01-05T23:35:00.001-05:00

The hockey fans among you will know what this is, but it's just too funny not to share.

Small Kindness

2007-01-04T23:37:00.000-05:00

I received a wonderful gift from my employer today.

It is a clever, colourful book called "Change the World for Ten Bucks", with the tagline "50 ways to make a difference" gracing the front page. Apparently, there is a British, German, and Australian version of this book as well; I was kindly given the Canadian version, replete with Canada-specific tips on making the world a slightly better place. Somehow, I find it telling that there doesn't appear to be an American version of this book.

The book comes from an organization called "We Are What We Do", a grassroots activist movement with chapters around the world. It is based on the premise that seemingly small individual contributions to society can add up to significant change, be it social, political, or environmental. The opening page of the book quotes Mahatma Gandhi, stating that "we must be the change that we want to see in the world."

And in that regard, the book then provides 50 simple actions that anyone can perform to make the world a better place. The following are a few examples:

Action 3: Spend time with a child.
Action 6: Plant something.
Action 14: Spend time with someone from a different generation.
Action 16: Give your change to charity.
Action 19: Learn one good joke.
Action 23: Have more meals together.
Action 36: Take time to listen.
Action 44: Pick up litter.

Each action is accompanied by a couple of paragraphs of text and colourful pictures, much like a children's book. Consequently, the reviews posted on the back of the book come from children aged 14 and 15, as well as older people including Dr. David Suzuki, a prominent Canadian environmentalist. It's a book that I imagine would have a fairly universal appeal, which is probably why my employer selected it.

Naturally, I saw parallels between these actions and certain verses of Quran and hadith. The Gandhi quote, and the overall premise of the book, immediately reminded of this famous verse in the Quran:

"Lo! Allah changeth not the condition of a folk until they (first) change that which is in their hearts." (13:11)

This verse frequently precedes discussions and lectures of how we must introduce internal change before we can expect serious change in our societies and communities. Understanding this concept is a start, but many of us stumble on introducing the internal change. We often think that others are the problem, and that our actions mean little in the grand scheme of things. And thus, the internal change we seek turns back into change we expect of others.

The Prophet salallaho'alayhi wa salam once instructed his companions not to belittle any small act of kindness, however insignificant it may seem. We never know if that little act of kindness is what we need to tip the scales in our favour.

To remove something harmful from a path is a branch of faith; this co-incides with Action 44, on picking up litter. Actions 3 and 14 echo the sentiments expressed in several hadith. One noteworthy hadith is the following:

'Ala ibne Kharijah narrated that the Prophet salallaho'alayhi wa salam said, "learn from your lineage to be able to do good to your relatives." (Tabarani, Majma'uz-Zawaid) The more we learn about our elders and fathers, the better we can relate to others. Their experience often goes a long way, and we as youth often dismiss that.

Numerous traditions express the value of charity, mentioned in the book as Action 16. Feeding guests is the subject of numerous sayings of the Prophet, and a number of stories from the lives of the Companions. A hadith recorded in Tirmidhi states that "there isn't a Muslim who gives another Muslim clothes to wear, except that he will be in the safe custody of Allah, so long as a shred of the cloth remains on him."

Another hadith, recorded in Sahih Muslim, states that the Prophet said that "any Muslim who plants a tree, then whatever is eaten from it is sadaqah (charity) on his behalf; what is stolen from it is also sadaqah; what animals eat from it is also sadaqah; what birds eat from it is also sadaqah; what birds eat from it is also sadaqah; whosoever takes anything from the tree, it is sadaqah (for the one who has planted the tree)." Sounds a lot like Action 6 to me.

As I pored over my copy of Muntakhab Ahadith to find these narrations, I found numerous others which illustrated the simple concepts discussed in the book. These are our actions, I thought. We as Muslims should be the ones writing books like this, and more importantly, actually doing these actions. I then went through each action listed in the book, and found a number that I could perform right then and there. It is probably a failing of my own imaan that stalls my action when I read hadith to the same effect.

Ultimately, actions are governed by intention, a principle so critical in Islamic belief that it is the first narration mentioned in many major collections. I recalled an article I read first in the book "First Things First" by Khalid Baig, about the significance of seemingly minor virtues. The essay, entitled "All Virtues, Big and Small", is available on-line for those interested. In it, the author reminds us that no virtue is too small; alternately, a seemingly minor sin can have major ramifications.

The "We Are What We Do" movement has their Canadian website at www.WeAreWhatWeDo.ca. The complete list of actions from the book is available here; readers can record their completion of the actions on the website, and summary statistics are given to show the overall progress. It's still new, with only 5182 actions performed by Canadian readers when I wrote this. The UK website shows that over half a million of these actions have been performed thus far among the British readers.

From the Muslim perspective, these actions should not be performed for the sake of improving statistics, but only for the pleasure of Allah. In any case, I did find this book encouraging, and strongly believe in the ability of such simple actions. So if you read this post and decide to avoid plastic grocery bags for a day, rest confident that some good will come of it. If not for the environment, at least it will add some weight to that pan of virtues if done with the right intention. Encourage another to do the same, and let them encourage others. Perhaps it will not tip the scales against global warming, but it may tip our own scales away from a heat far more intense.

A new year begins

2007-01-01T11:26:00.000-05:00

This was the last black and white Calvin and Hobbes strip ever published. It appeared on Irrelevant Opinions a couple of days ago. Unfortunately, with the strip over, my little Javascript also broke, and thus the daily comic won't be working until I fix it somehow. It shouldn't be too hard to fix, hopefully. It'll cycle back to the first year of the strip, from 1985, which I found less entertaining than the later years.

Happy New Year everyone! I find the concept of resolutions somewhat arbitrary and unnecessary, but I pray that everyone has a prosperous year ahead.

And Eid Mubarak!

Update 1.6.2007: After some minor tweaking, the script works now. Yay!

Eats, Shoots & Leaves

2006-12-28T19:34:00.000-05:00

The Punctuation Game

Not sure what the title means, but this might help me with my oft-criticized apostrophe issues.

My apologies for the meaningless entries of late.

Update 1.2.2007:

This is probably why people take the time to contact me about my grammatic failings. "They reveal that you have paid no attention to your own writing and invite the reader to respond in kind."

That's a great website, by the way. Writing, Clear and Simple is a blog with some great tips on conveying meaning clearly, and I've learned quite a bit from it in the last couple of months. (It's also where I found this punctuation game.)

Why I love the holidays

2006-12-28T12:25:00.000-05:00

December 27th, 2006:

I prayed Fajr in Mississauga.
Zuhr and Asr in Kingston.
Maghrib in Ottawa.
And Isha in Montreal.

That's five prayers in four cities, a new personal record. Though in retrospect, I should have prayed Zuhr in Bowmanville; I'm due for another visit.

In addition, I found time to resolve a number of long-standing issues, including one nearly two years old, alhamdolillah, and managed to still find time to help someone move for three hours. I feel accomplished.

Hajj Journal | CBC Montreal

2006-12-27T03:15:00.000-05:00

Online Hajj Journal | CBC Montreal

CBC, which I've come to greatly respect for the balanced news reporting and fair representation of Muslims, is hosting the journal of a sister from Montreal who has gone for Hajj this year. These are always interesting reads, and it's nice of CBC to include that on their website. I sometimes read over my own, and regret that I really did not express myself well. I generally wrote at times of inconvenience and frustration, and didn't capture my awe and amazement of the whole experience; I could have written something much better had I collected all my thoughts at the end rather than write at odd times during the actual rituals. Anyway, I'll be keeping tabs on this journal on CBC; it's always encouraging to read such accounts.

And while on the subject, this post is easily the best I've read describing the experience of Umrah. A very inspiring read that deserves a better medium than the blogosphere.

Arar Recommendations | CBC News

2006-12-13T13:07:00.000-05:00

CBC News summarizes the principal recommendations for the RCMP coming from the Maher Arar commission:

Arar Recommendations | CBC News

Arar has accomplished so much already just by having his name cleared. He was just one person up against an entire government agency, and he's winning. Truly inspiring.

IO 2.0

2006-12-13T00:29:00.000-05:00

I recently upgraded to the Blogger beta, which has a number of new features and brings it closer to matching Wordpress, which I admit is the better blogging platform. I'm relatively happy with Blogger, primarily because I've built my template mostly from scratch and don't feel like doing it over, and I'd rather not go with a boring generic one.

The changes don't mean much for you as a reader, except that most posts are now categorized for your reading convenience; you can see the full list of categories along the right side of the page, and navigate at your leisure. For those of you visiting through an RSS reader, you can now subscribe to a comments feed if you are so inclined. I imagine you're not. I encountered one somewhat annoying bug during the upgrade: a number of comments have now been marked as "anonymous" for some reason.

And for all those who have e-mailed me recently, commenting isn't broken; I just disable it occasionally. So don't worry about the monkeys.

Update 12.13.2006: It turns out that the commenting is actually somewhat broken as part of the upgrade. I think this primarily affects users who are signed in to older Blogger accounts (as opposed to their Google accounts.)

Blogger mentions the bug here, but they say it's been fixed. Oh well.

the blurst of times

2006-12-07T23:42:00.000-05:00

a thousand monkeys at a thousand laptops a novel does not make
for behind the words is a work of sweat, hardship and heartache
yet the monkeys tried and sweat they did, all for menial pay
but still they tried, and felt inside they'd finally have their day

most would fail, to no avail was their random typing
a broken dream, they'd yell and scream and wouldn't quit their griping
but there was success, as the monkey press made it so well known
some did their best, made it big, and now are on their own

one group punched many keys but they were gibberish at best
but those who read them came to greet them, thinking they expressed
words of sorrow, words of anger, appealing to the stressed
and the group broke off, became big stars, and went out to the west

others smashed away, an odd array, of u's and i's and t's
but some found words that appealed to nerds of dubious degrees
and thus they learned and quickly turned to their expertise
and made big bucks, in their monkey tux, doing as they please

one remained who wrote his mind, he had so much to say
of humour, heartache and all between, in a unique monkey way
and the monkey earned respect and love, and oh so much hype!
but all alone and in the light, poor monkey couldn't type.

Andalus

2006-12-05T21:47:00.000-05:00

For those of you who have about 100 minutes to spare, this is a very enlightening documentary about Muslim Spain.

I have often wondered why we as Muslims have lagged so far behind when our predecessors were the pioneers of modernity and civilization. There is little innovation today in the Muslim world; at best, we copy the West, but unfortunately we tend to take the worst of it while leaving the good.

During my travels in South Asia, I heard many people lament about how things were becoming too "westernized". I generally take exception to hearing this sort of talk, as it undermines all the good in the West. I can walk outside at night and feel safe here. I can go to a store, and not expect to get swindled. I can breathe the air and drink the water without feeling sick. I can freely go to a doctor if necessary, and expect professional, courteous treatment. These are basic expectations that I've come to take for granted in Canada, but they are also expectations that should theoretically stem from Islamic living. Unfortunately, that's not the case.

The problem is not that Muslim countries are becoming Westernized. The problem is that Muslim countries are taking the bad from the West while leaving the good. We'll adopt the crude language and skimpy dresses, but ignore the orderly lineups and clean washrooms. We'll bring the booze, lottery tickets, and racy magazines into our stores, but we'll ignore all that Western nonsense about recycling. After all, throwing things on the street is much easier, and we don't want to imitate the kufaar.

Tobacco companies are starting to lose their battle in the North American market, but they're finding great adoption in Pakistan and Bangladesh. While smoking is becoming increasingly inconvenient in most major cities in Canada, it is becoming more and more common, almost encouraged, in much of the Muslim world. Even here, I know more Muslims who smoke than non-Muslims, the justification being "it's not haraam, brother. Allah said not to make what is halaal to be haraam." Personally, I do believe it's definitely haraam, but I won't get started on that because this sort of reasoning annoys me considerably.

Muslim Spain was the envy of the world; it set the precedent upon which the European renaissance was largely initiated. It was built upon a foundation that sought the best of two cultures. The basis remained Islam, but the Spanish Muslims were not afraid to learn the arts and sciences of others. Much of the classical philosophy we study today only reached us because the earlier Muslims preserved the texts in Arabic. This philosophy preceded Islam, but there remained some value in these texts that was worth preserving. This was not a compromise on their own values or beliefs, but a reflection of the curiosity and discovery encouraged by Islam.

It would have been easy for the Sahabah to brush off the suggestion of Salman al-Farsi radhiyallaho'anh to build a trench around Madinah. After all, Salman was coming from a society of fire-worshippers who were not guided by Allah or the Prophet. But in spite of this, the Prophet sallalaho'alayhi wa salam saw value in the idea, which ultimately lead to the successful defence of the city. This wasn't imitation of the kufaar; this was a case of taking the good from another society and adopting it.

Where have we gone wrong? It's not that Muslims are uneducated. When I first started at the University of Ottawa, I was surprised to see that half of my professors were Muslim, and the dean of the faculty was a Muslim woman wearing hijab. Nearly all the teaching assistants were Muslim, as were most of the graduate students. Most of them were Egyptian, but there was a good number of Lebanese, Indian, Pakistani, and Bangladeshi Muslims amongst them as well. There were some exceptionally brilliant people among them who were the pride of the faculty.

Among the graduate students was my Egyptian roommate of two years. While he was also very intelligent, living with him gave me a peek into what really goes on in the minds of these Muslim students. I lived with him during the course of his Masters degree, and I knew he hated every minute of it. He would come home frustrated and angry, but never gave up. His perseverance astonished me. During this time, he went through a messy engagement that lasted over a year before breaking, but he kept his dedication high and his grades strong, something I failed to do during a somewhat similar ordeal. While he clearly lacked interest in his studies, he did extremely well. All the while, he would lament about how he would rather have been a cook instead, though the fool he used to serve me at breakfast made me glad he took up engineering instead.

Eventually, I moved away to live closer to the university, and he left the city as well after successfully completing his masters degree. Several months later, he called me up regarding some outstanding bills, but not before we caught up with one another.

"So what have you been up to lately?", I asked.

"I'm just doing my PhD right now, should be done in a year or two," he replied. I was astonished! A PhD? The poor guy hated every minute of his masters', I couldn't imagine him going through yet another several years in earning the PhD. I asked him to explain.

"Well, I'm planning on visiting Egypt soon," he said. "And I would feel shy to go back there with just a masters' degree." Just a masters' degree. I started realizing that many of these people were getting degrees only for the sake of degrees. I recalled one night where he had taken me to visit one of his friends who was working at a local pizza place. This friend was working there to cover the costs of his own PhD. He had already completed two masters' degrees in Engineering, and was well on his way to completing his PhD. And he was working in a pizza place. With two masters' degrees. I asked him what he wanted to do after he completed his studies, and he casually said "I'm doing what I want to do."

It's unfortunate that I've rarely seen any of these students venture outside academia; they generally become professors, or leave the discipline entirely. They could accomplish so much with their talents and education, but their education often goes to waste because it is sought for the wrong reasons. After living with that roommate for as long as I did, I discovered one frustrating trait of upper-Egyptian culture: higher education is not something that is considered exemplary or honourable; rather, the lack of higher education is something that is considered shameful.

Really, all that education is serving little more than to pad up their biodata (and according to my roommate, that's really the main goal). There's an incredible talent pool sitting there in the Muslim world, but not one single Muslim engineering firm has demonstrated much innovation in the last 50 years or so outside of the oil industry. Yet, there are PhD graduates in Computer and Electrical engineering making pizzas (and serving as prime ministers in inefficient governments.) All the while, we drive European and Japanese cars, talk on Finnish cell phones, and use American software.

I have often thought of Germany as a viable example for the Arab and Muslim world to follow. This is a country that has been decimated twice in the last hundred years, but has built itself up only on the strength of it's own people. It is not a land replete with natural resources, nor is it one with significant trade routes. Yet it is full of dedicated workers who can look beyond their past to harvest a better future. And it's been working.

There are opportunities out there to be explored, and a talent pool with the knowledge to make the most of these opportunities. Andalus was the envy of Europe, as much for it's advanced civilization as it's religion. Today, we are barely hanging onto our religion, and have hardly any civilization to be proud of. Progress starts by beginning with the fundamentals, and regaining that sense of discovery that the early Muslims brought forth. It doesn't happen in spite of Islam, it happens because of it.

Prayer Times extension

2006-11-30T12:00:00.000-05:00

For those of you using Firefox, I would highly recommend the fzami Prayer Times extension. It's the least intrusive and most useful Prayer Times software I've tried.

A message from my brother

2006-11-29T00:27:00.001-05:00

A few days ago, my brother got quite badly injured in the playoffs of Season 6 in the West Island Muslim hockey league. The description of the incident and ensuing injury was quite gruesome to hear, and was certainly much worse for those who saw it. I haven't been home yet to see the extent of the injury, but alhamdolillah he's doing much better now.

He wrote a message to the other players of the tournament which I really liked, and thought I'd share:

Assalamo Alaikum Everyone,

First of all, I want to thank everyone for your concern. It is a very good sign to see Muslims really caring for each other. Even the first aid people in Kirkland Rec were impressed with the initial treatment our brothers gave me. May Allah reward each of you. Alhamdulillah, by the grace of Allah, I am doing very well. The injury was only external, and the pain ended even before I reached the hospital. I didn't even have to wait long in the hospital before seeing the doctor. He put about 12 stitches, and Insha Allah, it should be healed in 7 - 10 days. I will likely return to work on Wednesday, and get back into a more normal routine.

It is our eman that whatever is supposed to happen to us, cannot be avoided. And whatever is supposed to miss us cannot reach us. This injury was Muqaddir from Allah, and it is just a test of patience and other qualities. Also, the Prophet (S.A.W) explained in one hadith that it never happens that anyone faces any hardship, not even a thorn prick in the foot, except that Allah uses it to either forgive his sins, or elevate his level in paradise. Also, going through pain helps us relate better to others who suffer more than us, and reminds us of how much we need to be thankful for the countless bounties we have been given. May Allah accept all of our deeds, forgive our sins, and give us success in this world and in the hereafter.

I look forward to seeing everyone again, and being ready for Season 7.

This was posted here, on the Great Hockey website.

I love West Island, and all the brothers there. I haven't seen a community quite like theirs anywhere else, and I often miss the days when I was among them.

730 Days of Irrelevance: The Year in Review

2006-11-25T00:00:00.000-05:00

And thus the second year of Irrelevant Opinions is over. Perhaps every November 25th should be celebrated as "Irrelevance Day", celebrated exactly two weeks after "Remembrance Day" to forget about those brave souls who fought for our country and reflect on things less meaningful.

It's been a strange year. While it has been very eventful from a personal standpoint, what was most notable for me about this year was how little had changed. While the first year of Irrelevant Opinions saw me move past the decades of academia, journey for several months to Saudi Arabia and India, and take my first steps in the professional world, this year by comparison has been quite stagnant. I expected to see a great deal of change, but not the sort of change that eventually transpired. Instead, the year was largely characterized as one of miscues, close calls, and near misses.

It was my first full year of working. While the academic life was always full of surprises and every semester was a new challenge, the professional life changes little from day to day. Granted, the very nature of my occupation precludes routine. And all that being said, I can't help but feel thankful for the life I have. While this year truly lacked much of the pace and progress of previous years, I still managed to move about and see the world. I spent time hiking alongside waterfalls and babbling brooks in the French Alps, cycled along the Fox River in Illinois, and scaled the snow-covered mountains in Whistler.

In terms of Irrelevant Opinions, it was a year in which readership grew considerably before losing most of it during my many extended breaks in the year. During my five-week hiatus in France, a few of the main referrers to this site pulled their links, while many more were removed during the technical failures that plagued these pages in the latter half of the year. Still, the readership that remains is dedicated and friendly, and it's great having you all around.

Like last year, I will opt against writing something meaningful in favour of recycling old material.

January 3rd, 2006: Bugs in my Cereal. Almost a year later, and I still don't know what I meant by that title. Strangely though, "cereal bugs" (or similar variations) is one of the most popular search terms that leads people to this site. For some reason, people seem to search for "irrelevant bugs in cereal" much more often than you would think.

January 13th, 2006: Havelli. This post still makes me laugh, knowing the story behind it.

February 11th, 2006: Legacy. It doesn't always have to be irrelevant.

March 5th, 2006: Hope Restored. I never quite finished writing this, hurrying to a conclusion without actually describing anything from the conference itself. I should get back to this someday; there were a few great speakers whose lectures I should have written about.

April 3rd, 2006: Was Better Alone. Writing can be very therapeutic, sometimes.

April 9th, 2006: Cryptic Voicemail. This also still makes me laugh; it turned out to be the product of the former and current MSA Presidents at my alma mater.

July 24th, 2006: The Struggle. Still one of my best stories.

August 15th, 2006: Muhammad, the Last Prophet (Animated Film). I wish my nephews would watch this more, and Transformers less.

August 25th, 2006: A Discussion over Chick Peas. This wasn't a very good piece to begin with, but there were lots of interesting comments here.

September 7th, 2006: Sidewalk Afterthoughts. I received a number of e-mails and personal messages expressing appreciation for this post, so it must have had some value.

November 16th, 2006: Litterbugs in my cereal. Not sure why I kept that "bugs in my cereal" theme going.

Thanks to all the readers; Google Analytics tell me you come from all over the world, speaking a number of languages and running a plethora of browser versions. Though many of you choose to remain silent, your support is much appreciated. Keep up the good work.

Imams Ejected from Flight | BBC News

2006-11-21T13:00:00.000-05:00

Six imams ejected from US flight | BBC News

"The six men were taken off the US Airways flight, bound to Phoenix from Minneapolis, after a passenger reported 'suspicious activity' to cabin crew."

I spend an inordinate amount of time in airports around Canada, and can't imagine this sort of thing ever happening at any of them. While I have read so much about the work being done in the US around cultural awareness and sensitivity, there still appears to be a great deal of ignorance and paranoia. I'm curious as to how Canadians have managed to protect themselves from such paranoia, as I don't see the same types of social programs in place here. Most Canadians seem to understand and accept the religious practices of Muslims without us having to explain it.

Litterbugs in my cereal

2006-11-16T23:20:00.000-05:00

When I saw this sign at a park off Highway 99, a whole slew of bizarre images were conjured up in my tired mind.

The prosecution lawyer advanced to the front of the courtroom. The defendant sat meekly before him. At first, the lawyer said nothing; he wanted to revel in the guilty expression gracing the defendant's face, with his head dropped, his hands folded, and beads of sweat forming. That image alone may have swayed the jury against the favour of the poor defendant.

"So, Mr. Zigglefroo. You see all these people before you. The allegations are clear," the lawyer chided. "Do you realize the implications of this allegation?"

"Yes sir," the defendant whimpered.

"And what do you have to say about these charges?", the lawyer pushed on.

"I .. I have nothing to say."

The lawyer stopped his pacing, and moved to the middle of the courtroom. "He has nothing to say!", he announced. "Mr. Zigglefroo says he has nothing to say! Is that what you told the police when you were caught red-handed in the despicable act you are accused of?!"

"I .. I didn't do anything!" The defendant was nearing tears. The prosecution lawyer felt no sympathy.

"Nothing! He says nothing! My friends, your honour, what this man calls nothing is far from nothing. This man was caught in one of the most vile, most devilish acts in the history of the parks commission. This man, Mr. Zigglefroo, by his own admission threw his culinary waste into a trash receptacle while not in the state of tourism!"

Gasps from the audience. Then silence, broken by the footsteps of the prosecution lawyer as he continued to pace the courtroom.

The defendant continued his whimpering, "I didn't do anything!"

"Nothing? Nothing?! You mock the law! You break the law, then you mock the law! It is people like you who are the bane of our society. You start off as toddlers, playing games meant for three-year olds while you're only two. You tear the labels off pillows which specifically warn you against tearing said labels. You eat just one Lays potato chip, and you can believe it's not butter! And what do you say you've done? Nothing!"

The sweat begins to drop more profusely. Mr. Zigglefroo's face is red.

"And then one day, you'll walk into a zoo with a sawed-off shotgun and start killing pandas left, right and centre, strangling ostriches while chewing on the cartilage of squirrels!"

Objection! Overruled! Other typical courtroom clichés! The defendant, poor Mr. Zigglefroo, sat all alone as the murmurs amid the crowd became louder, more pointed, more accusing. And the lawyer would not let up.

"This man, Mr. Zigglefroo, is a criminal! The sign was clear, 'Tourist Use Only!' And was Zigglefroo a tourist? No! He was on business! And all others dumping refuse will be prosecuted! And here he is now, proving his guilt by his silence! He was no tourist - but soon he'll be touring JAIL! Hahahahahah!!!"

Pandemonium ensues. The crowd begins throwing crumpled papers and rocks toward the defendant. A brawl breaks out amid the jury. One lady gets punched in the face, and she returns the favour by smashing a chair against someone else. Another gets hit in the head with a stapler. She throws a pencil.

Finally, Mr. Zigglefroo broke. He leaped out of his seat alone at the front of the courtroom, his whimpering face turned to rage and insanity.

"Yes! I did it! I did it! And I'll do it again! Yaargh!!!" And with that, he began running around the courtroom in circles, grabbing the gavel off the judge's desk, while the bailiff attempted to tackle him and restore order. But even as he was pinned underneath the bailiff, Mr. Zigglefroo managed to shove the gavel into the gaping maw of the bailiff.

"Whoops, sorry Mr. Bailiff! Your mouth didn't say food use only!! Yargh!!"

The judge came down from his platform, let his robe drop to the ground, and kicked Mr. Zigglefroo in the head knocking him unconscious. Finally, order restored. The judge then pulled the gavel out of the bailiff's face, taking another quick jab at the jaw of Mr. Zigglefroo with the blunt end.

"Court adjourned," he stated.

And thus Mr. Zigglefroo was dragged from the courtroom, and all the others proceeded to file away. Everything was left in disarray; papers scattered everywhere, coats and glasses and briefcases spread across the room, and for some reason, there was an injured turtle resting limp in the aisle. And so it remained until evening.

Finally, a janitor entered the room, surveying the carnage. He began sweeping his way through the spoils of the drama, until he realized something was awry. "Hmm.. where do I throw all this out?"

Disclaimer: Obviously, I know nothing about the legal system.

Oh, and I feel fine.

Surreal

2006-11-13T13:54:00.000-05:00

Clearly, my Ramadhan break took a little longer than expected. It was a good one, though I spent nearly the entire month alone. Normally, I would break my fasts with my Jewish colleague, who skipped lunch for nearly the entire month out of "solidarity"; quite a departure from all the years of breaking fast with family, or the six years of Ramadhan at the University of Ottawa with 200 friends every evening. All that being said, Ramadhan did afford me a unique chance to be part of the community, and I quickly found my place at the nearest mosque. That particular community was a very different demographic than what I am accustomed to, but I somehow fit right in as the token young single guy.

I was a little surprised upon seeing the imam for Tarawih on the first day. He did not at all match the image of most huffaz and imams I grew up with. Rather, he seemed like the most typical Pakistani uncle you can think of, and I was somewhat disappointed. He recited fairly well, however, and made very few mistakes. Still, I was not entirely comfortable at the beginning.

A friend used to drive me home nearly every day after tarawih. One day, he commented, "the blind hafiz is amazing, isn't he?" The blind hafiz? I didn't know who he was talking about. But lo and behold, it turns out the imam I was reading behind was completely blind, even though he made no visible indications of being so. Instantly, I developed a great deal of respect for that imam, and any superficial thoughts I had of him as a typical Pakistani uncle quickly disappeared. That revelation also reminded me about the beauty of the Quran, and the miracle of hifz. It's an amazing thing, that adults, young children and even the blind equally have access to memorizing the most beautiful text in any language. It's something that appears to be quite common, but we must never lose our sense of awe at the magnificence of it all.

A person doesn't need to look far to see the signs of Allah. Whether it be witnessing the miracle of Quran memorization, or seeing the beauty of nature, the signs are all around us. As I once said in a speech I delivered a few months ago, we don't need to wait for the moon to split; there's enough evidence in our day-to-day life.

It seems fitting to include pictures from my trip to Whistler yesterday. My cousin made the trip down from Petawawa, and we had an awesome weekend traipsing the snowy mountains and navigating dangerous cliffside highways in a fun little Yaris. There's one more activity that I'm dying to try, so I just need to convince someone else to take a weekend trip to Vancouver and accompany me on another crazy adventure.

Lions Gate Bridge, on a typically wet, dark, and rainy morning in Vancouver.

In the valley between Whistler Mountain and Blackcomb Mountain.

A suspension bridge through the valley.

Snow sitting atop the needles of a Western Hemlock, with Usnea lichen hanging down, as gentle snowflakes fall in the background. This picture makes a great desktop wallpaper.

More pictures here: Flickr

Arar to accept human rights award via video | CBC News

2006-10-18T17:27:00.000-04:00

Arar to accept human rights award via video | CBC News

"Maher Arar will accept an international human rights award Wednesday, but won't travel to Washington for the honour over fears he'll be detained again."

I have much respect for Mr. Arar, and have met him on a number of occasions. It's wonderful to see him honoured this way, but terribly ironic that he still fears travelling to the US. His fears are justified, given his earlier treatment, and illustrates how much more work remains to be done. I'm sure he'd much rather receive full justice and security in his travels than any honours and rewards.