It's 2023. So much has happened since I last posted anything here, but I'm glad to see it still online. Possibly more to come.
December 08, 2023
April 24, 2016
Aphantasia
I can't seem to find the post, but I recall at one point that I wrote something about the ability to paint pictures and hear sounds and music in one's mind, and what life would be like if we didn't have that amazing capability. I wrote something about the brain being a theatre in which we controlled every actor, every voice, and every note in the soundtrack. In writing that, I think it was the first time that I really thought about how amazing it is that we can synthesize even a smell or the feeling of touching a certain fabric with a high degree of precision.
So today, I learned that out that this capability actually isn't universal. That such people exist who cannot visualize images and synthesize sounds in their minds. It's a fascinating read, even moreso given that the author is in fact a highly intelligent and successful software engineer and entrepreneur, one of the founders of the Mozilla Firefox project and other major internet cornerstones.
Read here!
So today, I learned that out that this capability actually isn't universal. That such people exist who cannot visualize images and synthesize sounds in their minds. It's a fascinating read, even moreso given that the author is in fact a highly intelligent and successful software engineer and entrepreneur, one of the founders of the Mozilla Firefox project and other major internet cornerstones.
Read here!
November 25, 2015
L'onzieme anniversaire
Is it worth celebrating a blog anniversary when the anniversary posts make up 50% of the new content every year?
January 14, 2015
Paris
Some irrelevant opinions on recent events:
1. While I abhor the violence that is rampant in the world in the name of Islam, I don't feel any need to repeatedly "condemn" it to prove I don't support it. Those accused or suspected of violence against innocent civilians do not represent me in any way, I never elected them to represent my voice in the world, nor have I ever met them.
2. What most bothers me and most of the Muslims I know is the blatant hypocrisy. It is absolutely ridiculous for many of the world leaders to stand in rallies condemning the violence in Paris while they have way more blood on their own hands. And these are mostly elected leaders; they are pursuing wars and occupations that are killing hundreds of thousands of innocent people, imprisoning and torturing thousands of people without any trials, and stand quiet when atrocities are being committed on their own soil if it doesn't align with their anti-Islam narrative. The Norway attacks were just a few years ago and were much worse than Paris, but we didn't see any world leaders marching against the anti-Muslim ideologies that fueled those terrible attacks. And then there are all the other atrocities that gets almost no media attention at all because we can't blame Middle Eastern bad guys.
3. If we truly believe in democracy, then we should be holding ourselves accountable for the atrocities our elected leaders are committing. In this case, we actually do share in that blame, because we've been given a voice that we're not using. If we resign ourselves into believing that there's nothing we can do, then this is a much bigger attack on democracy than anything the Al-Qaedas or ISIS's of the world have done.
4. In the last several years, France has seen significant unrest from the immigrant and second-generation youth primarily due to unemployment and implicitly racist policies that prevented their advancement in society. Take anyone in these circumstances and then repeatedly insult the things they hold most dear, and you will definitely provoke a negative reaction. Of course, that was exactly what they wanted. To claim "Je suis Charlie" is to claim that you support hateful speech that targets the most disenfranchised people of society.
5. Our Muslim leaders and Islamic institutions in Canada are not the problem. They condemn the violence and they promote good character and good citizenship. It is when people isolate themselves from traditional Islamic scholarship and reliable institutions that they drift into radical territory. I would advise anyone who questions what really goes on in the mosques to just go and visit one. Attend the Friday sermon or participate in a community lecture. Sit in the children's classes to see what they're actually being taught. There's nothing to hide.
6. It seems it doesn't even matter if we condemn things, because people don't believe it anyway. Every internet forum will have someone who will say "Of course they'll lie about it...taqiyyah and kitman - look it up", referring to an obscure provision in Shia Islam that allows someone to conceal their belief for fear of persecution. I think I speak for the majority of Muslims in saying that I'd never heard of these terms ever until these internet forums. In all my life, having travelled to hundreds of mosques around the world, having read tonnes of books, and having listened to hundreds of different scholars, I've never heard of taqiyyah or kitman or any of the other words these commenters like to use as some sort of Internet Forum trump card. It's not some sort of dark principle that we all secretly follow.
Of course, many of you who read this will probably disbelieve this whole statement because taqiyyah. Suit yourself.
7. When I was growing up, I never heard about Islam in the news and was perfectly happy to go about doing my own thing without anyone worrying about it. Now, the word Islam is everywhere and usually for all the wrong reasons. This has made it difficult for a lot of young Muslims to find their place in society, trying to balance their own beliefs against the prejudices held against them.
But for me, being Muslim has never been about adhering to popular opinion. Ultimately, it comes down to the basics: There is no God but Allah, and Muhammad, peace be upon him, is His messenger.
I believe in One Creator, who created and controls the entire universe. I support this belief by doing what Allah asks us, to observe the universe and witness the marvel of His creation. I am amazed by the order of the universe, the ordered revolution of planets around the sun, the perfect balance given to the Earth which provides us night and day, summer and winter, air and water, plants and animals, and life itself. I am amazed by each and every single living thing, and wonder how anyone can deny the magnificence of our own design when they witness the birth of a child or study the life sciences. All of life is a miracle, and we should never underestimate the magnificence and improbability of all of it.
I also acknowledge the Quran itself as a miracle, a book that has such beauty in its reading that nothing else compares. A book that can be memorized, letter for letter, by small children who don't even speak the language. A book that withstands the test of time as a guide for humanity.
And I believe that Muhammad, peace be upon him, was the best humanity has ever seen, and the history books will attest to that in spite of what some people write (or draw) today. Through his teachings, I am a better person, a better employee, a better husband, and a better father than I would have been otherwise. And society as a whole, including every single one of you reading this, has benefited tremendously from his legacy whether you believe it or not.
1. While I abhor the violence that is rampant in the world in the name of Islam, I don't feel any need to repeatedly "condemn" it to prove I don't support it. Those accused or suspected of violence against innocent civilians do not represent me in any way, I never elected them to represent my voice in the world, nor have I ever met them.
2. What most bothers me and most of the Muslims I know is the blatant hypocrisy. It is absolutely ridiculous for many of the world leaders to stand in rallies condemning the violence in Paris while they have way more blood on their own hands. And these are mostly elected leaders; they are pursuing wars and occupations that are killing hundreds of thousands of innocent people, imprisoning and torturing thousands of people without any trials, and stand quiet when atrocities are being committed on their own soil if it doesn't align with their anti-Islam narrative. The Norway attacks were just a few years ago and were much worse than Paris, but we didn't see any world leaders marching against the anti-Muslim ideologies that fueled those terrible attacks. And then there are all the other atrocities that gets almost no media attention at all because we can't blame Middle Eastern bad guys.
3. If we truly believe in democracy, then we should be holding ourselves accountable for the atrocities our elected leaders are committing. In this case, we actually do share in that blame, because we've been given a voice that we're not using. If we resign ourselves into believing that there's nothing we can do, then this is a much bigger attack on democracy than anything the Al-Qaedas or ISIS's of the world have done.
4. In the last several years, France has seen significant unrest from the immigrant and second-generation youth primarily due to unemployment and implicitly racist policies that prevented their advancement in society. Take anyone in these circumstances and then repeatedly insult the things they hold most dear, and you will definitely provoke a negative reaction. Of course, that was exactly what they wanted. To claim "Je suis Charlie" is to claim that you support hateful speech that targets the most disenfranchised people of society.
5. Our Muslim leaders and Islamic institutions in Canada are not the problem. They condemn the violence and they promote good character and good citizenship. It is when people isolate themselves from traditional Islamic scholarship and reliable institutions that they drift into radical territory. I would advise anyone who questions what really goes on in the mosques to just go and visit one. Attend the Friday sermon or participate in a community lecture. Sit in the children's classes to see what they're actually being taught. There's nothing to hide.
6. It seems it doesn't even matter if we condemn things, because people don't believe it anyway. Every internet forum will have someone who will say "Of course they'll lie about it...taqiyyah and kitman - look it up", referring to an obscure provision in Shia Islam that allows someone to conceal their belief for fear of persecution. I think I speak for the majority of Muslims in saying that I'd never heard of these terms ever until these internet forums. In all my life, having travelled to hundreds of mosques around the world, having read tonnes of books, and having listened to hundreds of different scholars, I've never heard of taqiyyah or kitman or any of the other words these commenters like to use as some sort of Internet Forum trump card. It's not some sort of dark principle that we all secretly follow.
Of course, many of you who read this will probably disbelieve this whole statement because taqiyyah. Suit yourself.
7. When I was growing up, I never heard about Islam in the news and was perfectly happy to go about doing my own thing without anyone worrying about it. Now, the word Islam is everywhere and usually for all the wrong reasons. This has made it difficult for a lot of young Muslims to find their place in society, trying to balance their own beliefs against the prejudices held against them.
But for me, being Muslim has never been about adhering to popular opinion. Ultimately, it comes down to the basics: There is no God but Allah, and Muhammad, peace be upon him, is His messenger.
I believe in One Creator, who created and controls the entire universe. I support this belief by doing what Allah asks us, to observe the universe and witness the marvel of His creation. I am amazed by the order of the universe, the ordered revolution of planets around the sun, the perfect balance given to the Earth which provides us night and day, summer and winter, air and water, plants and animals, and life itself. I am amazed by each and every single living thing, and wonder how anyone can deny the magnificence of our own design when they witness the birth of a child or study the life sciences. All of life is a miracle, and we should never underestimate the magnificence and improbability of all of it.
I also acknowledge the Quran itself as a miracle, a book that has such beauty in its reading that nothing else compares. A book that can be memorized, letter for letter, by small children who don't even speak the language. A book that withstands the test of time as a guide for humanity.
And I believe that Muhammad, peace be upon him, was the best humanity has ever seen, and the history books will attest to that in spite of what some people write (or draw) today. Through his teachings, I am a better person, a better employee, a better husband, and a better father than I would have been otherwise. And society as a whole, including every single one of you reading this, has benefited tremendously from his legacy whether you believe it or not.
November 25, 2014
10 years!
A decade of Irrelevant Opinions! Okay, more like 4 years of content and then 6 years of rehashing old stuff, but it's still a fun milestone.
A few weeks ago, I decided I would start writing again, but still haven't posted anything meaningful. I started this blog just as I was finishing up my studies at the University of Ottawa, which was followed shortly after by most recent India trip. I am finally going back to India in a couple of weeks again, almost a full decade later, and things may go completely full circle depending on how the next few days go. We'll see.
A few weeks ago, I decided I would start writing again, but still haven't posted anything meaningful. I started this blog just as I was finishing up my studies at the University of Ottawa, which was followed shortly after by most recent India trip. I am finally going back to India in a couple of weeks again, almost a full decade later, and things may go completely full circle depending on how the next few days go. We'll see.
November 10, 2014
Is there anybody out there?
Hello. Is there anybody out there? Just nod if you can hear me.
Is there anyone home?
Is there anyone home?
November 25, 2013
Nine years?
Isn't it sad that on the 9th anniversary of this blog, I'm content posting content I wrote years ago?
I had some good material prepared for the third part of the I.LEAD review. I wish I finished that while it was still fresh. Sigh.
I had some good material prepared for the third part of the I.LEAD review. I wish I finished that while it was still fresh. Sigh.
High Hopes
I wrote this editorial back in August 2005. I'm reposting it because I like the helium metaphor here.
There was a time, not too long ago, when many of us were indifferent to current events and had little interest in world politics and policy. One dreadful Tuesday morning, all of this changed. All the days to come preceding that Tuesday would bear changed that no one could ignore. Battle lines were being drawn, and many of us reluctantly took sides. This month, the lines became more pronounced when the London transit system was attacked twice."Inflating our hopes with helium". That was a good line.
The Muslim response was as it has always been: several organizations issued statements condemning the bombing. In theory, the unity of the Muslim ummah in condemning the attacks should be a sign of hope. In reality, the condemnations have become predictable and mundane. Unfortunately, whatever hope and optimism that emerges from the Muslim response tends to fizzle and become irrelevant the next time the Muslim community comes under attack.
The difficulty is that today we are inflating our hopes with helium; they rise only until the surrounding environment changes, at which point they burst and crash to the ground. As the pressure increases, our optimism wanes and ignorance and prejudice prevail. Outwardly, we have not done enough to make generalizations about the Muslim community seem irrational and baseless.
That will only change when we take it upon ourselves to become true ambassadors of the deen. Today, we are “that Muslim guy in the corner office”, or “that group of Muslims that usually sits at the back.” In truth, we are supposed to be the representatives of the Quran and Sunnah, and Allah has put us where we are for a reason. If we uphold the sunnah truthfully, then any attacks against Islam can never hold water.
All this, of course, is easier said than done. It comes in a hadith that “the believer who mixes with people and endures any harm that they cause him has a greater reward than that believer who does not mix with people, and does not endure the harm they cause him.” Hence, when faced with these difficulties, we should take solace in the fact that they are not going unrewarded. Ultimately, hope for our community and our future will be born on the backs of those who will always push on in the face of adversity.
March 20, 2013
I.LEAD Part Two: Play to your Strengths
This is why I'm writing again.
Every person has been made different, with different skills and talents. Not everyone is going to be a scholar, and not everyone is going to be a doctor. It is a blessing of humanity that we're not all wired the same way, otherwise the world would struggle with imbalance even moreso than it already is.
At the I.LEAD conference, not every speaker was a scholar. Some speakers were not even all that eloquent. But eloquence isn't necessary for delivering a message, really; it is more a function of passion and conviction. And in my case, it was the ineloquence of a full-on rant that woke me up.
That rant would be the speech delivered by an author of childrens' books, who bluntly expressed her opinions on parenting, societal and peer pressure, and mosque administration (more on that later) without holding anything back. She was animated, at times crass, but above all, convincing in her delivery. She clearly expressed her opinions, and spoke audaciously about issues that we would normally keep silent about. And she found her place in the world as a storyteller, her writings as genuine as her speech.
For a few years, I was misplaced as an alternate khateeb at my then-local musallah. This also happened to be during a period in which I was writing fairly regularly here on this blog as well as the local Muslim newspaper. While I tried preparing every time for my khutbah, more often than not my speech ended up being more related to something I had blogged about earlier that week. Whatever research and preparation I did, whatever great speech I listened to and wanted to repeat, I was never able to express very well. But whatever I had written came out naturally in speech as I stood before the small congregation.
Writing, then, was the better fit for me; I accept now that I wasn't very good at the research or the attempted emulation of speakers I've enjoyed listening to. And even after years of inactivity, writing remains as the most productive creative outlet at my disposal. Hence, the best way for me to get personal benefit out of the I.LEAD conference would be to put it down on paper, so to speak.
This was the second major theme I gleaned from the days' events. Too often, we miscast members of our communities into roles that are not suited for them. We scoff at the non-traditional ideas that come from our youth, and relegate them instead to mundane tasks. We raise our children to be doctors and engineers when their real talents have not even been discovered yet. And we are disappointed when our expectations are unmet, without even considering whether those expectations were at all reasonable. We fail to recognize the strengths and weaknesses in ourselves and our communities, and then wonder why things aren't moving forward. No matter how much we smash away, the square peg won't fit into the round hole.
Everyone has their talent, their skill, their one thing they can do better than anyone else. And as a society, each individual has a role to play. But our narrow views on family status and community responsibility blind us from those hidden talents. We lose sight of what we can become, and assign ourselves to roles we don't fit. And once anyone starts down that road, struggling down a path that they're not suited for, confidence breaks down and we fall into dejection and depression. So much potential wasted, and so many hearts broken.
As a parent, this is my lesson: encourage my daughter in whatever productive pursuits she finds herself in. Find ways to channel her talents into positive contributions to society. This can't be forced, she has to discover herself what those talents are. The responsibility of the parent is to provide some guidance, but let the child show what she can really do on her own.
Parenting was a common theme throughout the conference, as youth engagement begins first at the home. The four A's, as articulated by Dr. Yassir Fazaga: affection, attention, acceptance, and appreciation. Love and play with your children, and give them the right attention; too often, we let cartoons and internet raise our children, and then wonder why we don't recognize them later. Accept who they are; it may not be what we anticipated, but it is what Allah chose for them, and in that there is surely some wisdom. Appreciate what they do; if we learned to look past our own biases, we would be amazed at the talents Allah has placed in our children and youth.
As an individual, I need to do more with what Allah has given me. We all do, with whatever gifts we have been given. I think I know now what works for me, but this is really a journey of constant discovery, and my role today may be different than what is planned for me tomorrow.
Once we know our own strengths, it becomes that much easier to individually contribute. But bringing that recognition from the personal level to the community level is extraordinarily difficult. The mosque should be the hub for that community growth, but rarely is nowadays. What I learned from I.LEAD about the rise and ruin of the mosque will be the topic of the next post.
Every person has been made different, with different skills and talents. Not everyone is going to be a scholar, and not everyone is going to be a doctor. It is a blessing of humanity that we're not all wired the same way, otherwise the world would struggle with imbalance even moreso than it already is.
At the I.LEAD conference, not every speaker was a scholar. Some speakers were not even all that eloquent. But eloquence isn't necessary for delivering a message, really; it is more a function of passion and conviction. And in my case, it was the ineloquence of a full-on rant that woke me up.
That rant would be the speech delivered by an author of childrens' books, who bluntly expressed her opinions on parenting, societal and peer pressure, and mosque administration (more on that later) without holding anything back. She was animated, at times crass, but above all, convincing in her delivery. She clearly expressed her opinions, and spoke audaciously about issues that we would normally keep silent about. And she found her place in the world as a storyteller, her writings as genuine as her speech.
For a few years, I was misplaced as an alternate khateeb at my then-local musallah. This also happened to be during a period in which I was writing fairly regularly here on this blog as well as the local Muslim newspaper. While I tried preparing every time for my khutbah, more often than not my speech ended up being more related to something I had blogged about earlier that week. Whatever research and preparation I did, whatever great speech I listened to and wanted to repeat, I was never able to express very well. But whatever I had written came out naturally in speech as I stood before the small congregation.
Writing, then, was the better fit for me; I accept now that I wasn't very good at the research or the attempted emulation of speakers I've enjoyed listening to. And even after years of inactivity, writing remains as the most productive creative outlet at my disposal. Hence, the best way for me to get personal benefit out of the I.LEAD conference would be to put it down on paper, so to speak.
This was the second major theme I gleaned from the days' events. Too often, we miscast members of our communities into roles that are not suited for them. We scoff at the non-traditional ideas that come from our youth, and relegate them instead to mundane tasks. We raise our children to be doctors and engineers when their real talents have not even been discovered yet. And we are disappointed when our expectations are unmet, without even considering whether those expectations were at all reasonable. We fail to recognize the strengths and weaknesses in ourselves and our communities, and then wonder why things aren't moving forward. No matter how much we smash away, the square peg won't fit into the round hole.
Everyone has their talent, their skill, their one thing they can do better than anyone else. And as a society, each individual has a role to play. But our narrow views on family status and community responsibility blind us from those hidden talents. We lose sight of what we can become, and assign ourselves to roles we don't fit. And once anyone starts down that road, struggling down a path that they're not suited for, confidence breaks down and we fall into dejection and depression. So much potential wasted, and so many hearts broken.
As a parent, this is my lesson: encourage my daughter in whatever productive pursuits she finds herself in. Find ways to channel her talents into positive contributions to society. This can't be forced, she has to discover herself what those talents are. The responsibility of the parent is to provide some guidance, but let the child show what she can really do on her own.
Parenting was a common theme throughout the conference, as youth engagement begins first at the home. The four A's, as articulated by Dr. Yassir Fazaga: affection, attention, acceptance, and appreciation. Love and play with your children, and give them the right attention; too often, we let cartoons and internet raise our children, and then wonder why we don't recognize them later. Accept who they are; it may not be what we anticipated, but it is what Allah chose for them, and in that there is surely some wisdom. Appreciate what they do; if we learned to look past our own biases, we would be amazed at the talents Allah has placed in our children and youth.
As an individual, I need to do more with what Allah has given me. We all do, with whatever gifts we have been given. I think I know now what works for me, but this is really a journey of constant discovery, and my role today may be different than what is planned for me tomorrow.
Once we know our own strengths, it becomes that much easier to individually contribute. But bringing that recognition from the personal level to the community level is extraordinarily difficult. The mosque should be the hub for that community growth, but rarely is nowadays. What I learned from I.LEAD about the rise and ruin of the mosque will be the topic of the next post.
March 18, 2013
I.LEAD Part One: Identity
I'm not generally a "conference" guy as I've written before, but I acknowledge that they have a place and a purpose, and that they do have the ability to change lives. This isn't even an exaggeration; I'm sure most readers know at least one person whose life was deeply changed by the various Islamic conferences that take place around North America. While I rarely found them personally beneficial, they can certainly be a means of promoting the greater good.
Nothing of this magnitude had been attempted in Ottawa before, at least to my knowledge. This was not for lack of interest or enthusiasm; the local community has grown considerably and is blessed with a number of Islamic programs and organizations. It was not for lack of unity either; recent years have seen the various Islamic organizations in the city come together in ways that seemed impossible a decade ago. In fact, it may have only been for lack of physical space - it was only within the last couple of years that Ottawa had the facilities to host something of this scale.
In short, this was the right time for the city to take this on, and that must have become apparent to the early organizers. Thus began fourteen months of effort to make the vision a reality, through the coordination of hundreds of selfless volunteers. I hadn't even heard about the event until a few months ago, but the hype grew considerably in the final weeks to the tune of nearly 3,000 in attendance this past Saturday.
The title "I.LEAD" stood for "Islam: Learn, Engage, Achieve, Develop", with the official theme as "YES: Youth Engagement and Support". I don't intend on repeating exactly what was said during the various lectures, but rather to comment on what I personally learned and understood. So in the Irrelevant Opinions version of the days events, I extracted three separate themes, the first of which is "Identity". I'll address this here, and insha-Allah the next two in separate posts.
The concept of Muslim Identity in the West is something that has always interested me. One of the lectures was entitled "Can I be both Muslim & Canadian?", which I thought could have been an eight second speech: "Assalamu'alaykum. Yes, you can. Thank you."
But of course, it is not that simple, and this question is considerably more difficult for others than it has been for me. Many people feel they have to choose between conformity or cultural isolation, resigning themselves to the belief that one can't have the best of both worlds. Dr. Jamal Badawi addressed some of the obvious challenges, speaking of terrorism and how the media portrays Muslims. It is an unfortunate reality that many are turned away from religion because of the negative media portrayals, but Dr. Badawi encouraged others to build the confidence to transcend those portrayals and challenge the stereotypes. Many of the speakers and volunteers were the product of Dr. Badawi's da'wah efforts, a testament to the resonance of his message.
Others such as Dr. Yacoub Mahi spoke more about the personal choices one has to make to identify oneself, through social, intellectual, and spiritual frames. Leaving aside how others may view a Muslim Canadian, how should one view oneself? For each frame of reference, he provided a structure for building closeness to Allah, and how one can bring value and honour into ones identity through this nearness. On the other hand, he argued, one devalues himself - socially, intellectually and spiritually - when they seek recognition from the ghairullah. This personal approach spoke more directly to me, as I've never been one to care for the media portrayals anyway.
Perhaps nothing is more central to ones identity than the leanings of ones' heart, and this is what Shaykh Riad Saloojee focused on. The heart is not bound by the geographic constraints of national citizenship, and thus can be in any state in any place. A heart that yearns for nearness to Allah is a pure heart, whether it be residing in Canada or Madinah, and one that yearns for the world will be eternally unsatisfied wherever it exists. Thus, it should never be a matter of deciding between being Canadian or being Muslim; it is only a matter of deciding between a heart that seeks purity or one that succumbs to corruption. Spiritual purity and corruption are not products of the country we live in, but are rather products of our aspirations.
My appreciation of this conference was driven largely by the diversity of viewpoints on topics such as this. It was not a conference that promoted a specific way of thinking, the audience was free to interpret it however they liked as I am doing now. Some may argue that this was a very "soft" approach, avoiding the controversial topics that keep Muslim hearts racing. No matter; controversy is overrated, and an inclusive approach is a better way to capture the hearts and minds of large gatherings like this.
Ultimately, discussions of identity are very personal, and thus the debates and arguments are largely internal. This is perhaps why this topic is often neglected; introspection doesn't get people excited. But ultimately, if one wants to change a society, one needs to change oneself. And to change oneself, one must know oneself.
Once we get past the internal struggle, the external struggles follow. The next two themes fall in the latter category. Stay tuned.
Nothing of this magnitude had been attempted in Ottawa before, at least to my knowledge. This was not for lack of interest or enthusiasm; the local community has grown considerably and is blessed with a number of Islamic programs and organizations. It was not for lack of unity either; recent years have seen the various Islamic organizations in the city come together in ways that seemed impossible a decade ago. In fact, it may have only been for lack of physical space - it was only within the last couple of years that Ottawa had the facilities to host something of this scale.
In short, this was the right time for the city to take this on, and that must have become apparent to the early organizers. Thus began fourteen months of effort to make the vision a reality, through the coordination of hundreds of selfless volunteers. I hadn't even heard about the event until a few months ago, but the hype grew considerably in the final weeks to the tune of nearly 3,000 in attendance this past Saturday.
The title "I.LEAD" stood for "Islam: Learn, Engage, Achieve, Develop", with the official theme as "YES: Youth Engagement and Support". I don't intend on repeating exactly what was said during the various lectures, but rather to comment on what I personally learned and understood. So in the Irrelevant Opinions version of the days events, I extracted three separate themes, the first of which is "Identity". I'll address this here, and insha-Allah the next two in separate posts.
The concept of Muslim Identity in the West is something that has always interested me. One of the lectures was entitled "Can I be both Muslim & Canadian?", which I thought could have been an eight second speech: "Assalamu'alaykum. Yes, you can. Thank you."
But of course, it is not that simple, and this question is considerably more difficult for others than it has been for me. Many people feel they have to choose between conformity or cultural isolation, resigning themselves to the belief that one can't have the best of both worlds. Dr. Jamal Badawi addressed some of the obvious challenges, speaking of terrorism and how the media portrays Muslims. It is an unfortunate reality that many are turned away from religion because of the negative media portrayals, but Dr. Badawi encouraged others to build the confidence to transcend those portrayals and challenge the stereotypes. Many of the speakers and volunteers were the product of Dr. Badawi's da'wah efforts, a testament to the resonance of his message.
Others such as Dr. Yacoub Mahi spoke more about the personal choices one has to make to identify oneself, through social, intellectual, and spiritual frames. Leaving aside how others may view a Muslim Canadian, how should one view oneself? For each frame of reference, he provided a structure for building closeness to Allah, and how one can bring value and honour into ones identity through this nearness. On the other hand, he argued, one devalues himself - socially, intellectually and spiritually - when they seek recognition from the ghairullah. This personal approach spoke more directly to me, as I've never been one to care for the media portrayals anyway.
Perhaps nothing is more central to ones identity than the leanings of ones' heart, and this is what Shaykh Riad Saloojee focused on. The heart is not bound by the geographic constraints of national citizenship, and thus can be in any state in any place. A heart that yearns for nearness to Allah is a pure heart, whether it be residing in Canada or Madinah, and one that yearns for the world will be eternally unsatisfied wherever it exists. Thus, it should never be a matter of deciding between being Canadian or being Muslim; it is only a matter of deciding between a heart that seeks purity or one that succumbs to corruption. Spiritual purity and corruption are not products of the country we live in, but are rather products of our aspirations.
My appreciation of this conference was driven largely by the diversity of viewpoints on topics such as this. It was not a conference that promoted a specific way of thinking, the audience was free to interpret it however they liked as I am doing now. Some may argue that this was a very "soft" approach, avoiding the controversial topics that keep Muslim hearts racing. No matter; controversy is overrated, and an inclusive approach is a better way to capture the hearts and minds of large gatherings like this.
Ultimately, discussions of identity are very personal, and thus the debates and arguments are largely internal. This is perhaps why this topic is often neglected; introspection doesn't get people excited. But ultimately, if one wants to change a society, one needs to change oneself. And to change oneself, one must know oneself.
Once we get past the internal struggle, the external struggles follow. The next two themes fall in the latter category. Stay tuned.
March 14, 2013
Like Flies on the Windshield
This poor, neglected blog is being peppered with spam comments. Every time I get an e-mail notifying me of a new comment, I get a little excited that perhaps there are still people stopping by, and that perhaps I should write again. Instead, I'm provided a link where I can apparently buy cheap pharmaceuticals. No thanks.
The internet as a whole is becoming boring, everyone repeating the same jokes or arguing over the same things. It doesn't matter if you've super-imposed your unfunny joke on top of a picture we've all seen a thousand times, there is still nothing amusing about it. It pains me to see how incredibly popular this is; it is a slap in the face of anyone who has struggled to find an audience on the grounds of trying to be original. Creativity is dead.
When blogging was still popular, the internet was a much more interesting place; regular people had the freedom and latitude to write whatever they wished, and the loose social networks that built around them were vibrant and fun. I miss a lot of that. Today, social networking is being shoved down our throats but only because a detailed "social graph" is a valuable marketing tool; there is nothing natural about the friend suggestions that pop up, and I don't believe people start actual friendships on that basis.
Learning today that Google Reader is shutting down is also disappointing. I'm sure that the handful of real people who comment on this post will have found it from their old RSS feeds, just as I have found the occasional blips of content on blogs I used to enjoy in the past. The technology was there to provide "really simple syndication" - to allow anyone to develop their own content and publish it in a way accessible to the masses. The emphasis today is no longer on publishing, but on sharing. 140 characters at a time, leave the actual content to the media. RSS is now a forgotten technology, and thus the unique content it exposed will also fade away in time.
The internet is becoming boring, repetitive, and predictable. Like the decline of television, all over again.
The internet as a whole is becoming boring, everyone repeating the same jokes or arguing over the same things. It doesn't matter if you've super-imposed your unfunny joke on top of a picture we've all seen a thousand times, there is still nothing amusing about it. It pains me to see how incredibly popular this is; it is a slap in the face of anyone who has struggled to find an audience on the grounds of trying to be original. Creativity is dead.
When blogging was still popular, the internet was a much more interesting place; regular people had the freedom and latitude to write whatever they wished, and the loose social networks that built around them were vibrant and fun. I miss a lot of that. Today, social networking is being shoved down our throats but only because a detailed "social graph" is a valuable marketing tool; there is nothing natural about the friend suggestions that pop up, and I don't believe people start actual friendships on that basis.
Learning today that Google Reader is shutting down is also disappointing. I'm sure that the handful of real people who comment on this post will have found it from their old RSS feeds, just as I have found the occasional blips of content on blogs I used to enjoy in the past. The technology was there to provide "really simple syndication" - to allow anyone to develop their own content and publish it in a way accessible to the masses. The emphasis today is no longer on publishing, but on sharing. 140 characters at a time, leave the actual content to the media. RSS is now a forgotten technology, and thus the unique content it exposed will also fade away in time.
The internet is becoming boring, repetitive, and predictable. Like the decline of television, all over again.
November 25, 2011
Seven Years
Unfortunately, there is not much to show for the seventh anniversary of Irrelevant Opinions. Someday, I'll update this.
May 16, 2011
Shadow and Flame
 |
| Slave Lake Mosque (apologies for my poor cellphone camera picture) |
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 |
May 03, 2011
Repost: Morning
Reposted from January 2006.
... 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.
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.
November 15, 2010
The Forgotten Slaves: The Curious Case of Slave Lake
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.
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.
July 05, 2010
From Far and Wide
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.
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
Nauman Theory: A Special Presentation of Irrelevant Opinions.
Congratulations to Nauman on his marriage!
Congratulations to Nauman on his marriage!
Open publication - Free publishing
September 23, 2009
Newborn, three others injured in 417 rollover
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.
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.
September 13, 2009
Antisocial
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.
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.
September 10, 2009
Hafsa
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.
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.
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