She Stands Up to Pray …

… then bows lies down for sujood.

Masood was trying so hard not to laugh during prayer.

A close family friend invited us to their new home for iftaar a few days ago.  They have an adorable daughter, mashaAllah, who is  two and a half years old.  She’s very friendly and talkative – just like how little girls are supposed to be.  When iftaar was spread out and everyone was sitting to make dua, she kept asking us, “Adhaan hogayi?”  Her face was so serious, as if she had been fasting the entire day and can’t wait for the adhaan!  But when it was time to break the fast, she barely ate a date.

Anyway, so when everyone stood up to get ready for prayers she ran to her mother and asked for her scarf and prayer rug.  Nobody had to tell her anything:  she asked me to fasten the scarf for her, went over to lay her rug besides Masood, and stood to pray.   She was so serious that all throughout her prayers, she only looked down towards her rug.  The only thing was that she forgot (or probably didn’t know) about rukooh.  So she went directly to make sujood – by lying flat on her belly, and stayed there for the rest of her salah!

But seriously, I am truly amazed and impressed.   May Allah bless her – and all the Muslim children – to remain steadfast in their faith and prayers.

Blog Awards!

Sara, a lucky lady who lives in one of the most beautiful places in the world, has presented me with this fabulous award!   I can’t explain how happy and proud I feel when a reader (who then becomes a friend) appreciate my blog and thinks of me when giving out a blog award.  Thank you so much, dear sis *hugs*

Check this out!

Rules of the Award:

• List five current obsessions.
• Pass the award on to five more fabulous blogs.
• On your post of receiving this award, make sure you include the person that gave you the award and link it back to them.
• When you post your five winners, make sure you link them as well.
• Don’t forget to let your winners know they won an award from you by leaving a comment on their blog.

My 5 Current Obsessions (in no particular order):

1.  Photography

This is an all-time obsession.  Though I often forget my cellphone at home, I always remember to bring my camera.  Whenever I go somewhere, specially for the first time, I feel – sometimes – as if I’m taking so many photographs that I am not enjoying the place myself.  It’s like I’m behind the lens ALL the time!  I truly appreciate my husband for his patience; he can wait forever while I take pictures.

2.  Sightseeing

I pretend being a tourist everywhere I go – even on my way to work each day.  I love looking at my surroundings, absorbing each and every detail, and committing them to memory.  And before going some place new, I like reading about it first.  Before we went to visit the Agra Fort, for example, I spent hours reading about the place so when I was actually there, I felt history come alive.

3.  Falooda

I can’t have enough of Falooda!  Back in Karachi, whenever an aunt or cousin takes me shopping, they know I must have my falooda.  Unfortunately, faloodas here in the UAE don’t taste as good as those available back home, but I still have them nevertheless, just not as frequently as I would in Karachi.

4.  Saris

A sari is something I thought I’d never wear because … well … it’s not easy to manage 6-7 meters of fabric!  But things changed when I visited India for the first time and saw all these women looking so beautiful and graceful in saris.  I started obsessing about saris!  When we visited Hyderabad three months ago, all I wanted to do was shop for saris -  and that’s what I did.  And I’ve worn only saris to all the parties I have attended since returning back to the UAE.  My mother in law will be coming to Dubai during the first week of September, inshaAllah, and she’s bringing more saris for me.  I’m so excited!

5.  United Arab Emirates

I’ve come to love this country so much that I can’t imagine living anywhere else right now.  Just the thought of leaving this country some day breaks my heart.  I love so many things about this country:  the masjids, people, parks, malls, buildings, roads, internet speed, grocery shopping, driving, lights, abayas, desert safaris, restaurants, cleanliness, and safety.  But most importantly, my family is here.  For me this is home.

I’m giving this award to the following fabulous blogs (in no particular order):

Uneekmuslimah

Shahrazad

Digital Niqabi (blog written by two fabulous sisters)

Alisha

Umm Travis

I wanted to share this award with so many more fabulous bloggers who I look forward to reading every day.  But the rule said “five” and I’ll stick to that (reluctantly).

UPDATE (Aug 28)

Hajar has just given me with this awesome “Adorable Blog” Award!  Thank you, girl!

I Met Her on Her Wedding Day

Though we’ve exchanged e-mails and spoke over the phone a few times, I met her for the first time at her wedding reception on the eve of July 16.  It was a very intimate gathering, where I felt very comfortable right away.  I had a great time;  one I’ll remember for a very long time – because this was also the very first time I’ve met a blogger-friend in person.

She’s a great writer, mashaAllah, and her posts mainly focuses on personal experiences with emphasis on Qur’an and ahadith.  In short, each post has a moral lesson.  However, she has carefully avoided giving away too much information about herself.  And respecting her privacy, I will not mention who this blogger-friend is, unless she permits me to.

Since I didn’t know anyone except the bride, I asked her if I could bring my sister along.  But she was kind enough to allow me to bring my mother and husband as well!  I couldn’t be happier;  both mom and sister agreed.  Masood, however, was a bit reluctant.  Men and women were to be seated in separate ballrooms and he didn’t know anyone.  And when I told the bride over the phone how Masood felt, she assured me that her brothers will take good care of him.

So on Thursday evening, Masood and I went over to my parent’s house after work.  While mom prepared tea, I ironed 7 meters of fabric – my blue and pink saree (I’m so into wearing sarees since my recent trip to Hyderabad).  The hotel was in a prime location, hence it was easy to find our way.  The invitation said 8:30 pm, but we arrived by 10:30 pm (we left office at 9 pm, took sometime to get dressed,  plus 40 minutes on Shaikh Zayed Road due to traffic … there was a horrible accident, unfortunately).

Once inside the hotel, Masood was escorted into the men’s section while we (mom, sister and I) went into the ladies’.  It felt slightly awkward in the beginning;  I knew only the bride, whom I’ve never met before.  I walked straight ahead, smiling and greeting women as I pass them.  Then there was this particular woman who smiled very sweetly, so I approached her and asked, “Has *bride’s name* arrived already?”  I made it sound as if I knew the bride since birth.  “Oh yes, she’s in that room.”

Naturally, she was surrounded by a lot of women.  I looked at her … she looked very lovely, mashaAllah.  “So this is the lady behind that wonderful blog,”  I thought to myself.  Once the crowd around her started to lessen, I approached her and greeted her with a salaam.  We shook hands, and when I introduced myself to her as Nadia Masood, she gave me the sweetest smile.  Masood later told me that I should’ve introduced myself as “I’m the Purple Journal, wife of Thoughts from Dubai.” I introduced my mom and sister to her, and she introduced us to her mother and aunt.  I sat with her and we talked for sometime.  She’s amazing, mashaAllah, and I’m very much impressed.  One can not, however, sit too long with the bride since everyone wants to talk to her, hence I excused myself and joined my family at the table.

When my sister and I lined up for the buffet dinner, we heard a couple of ladies behind us speak Tagalog.  “There are a lot of Filipinos here,” my sister whispers.  “Should we speak to them?” I ask her.  At that moment, another lady – who didn’t look or dressed like a Filipino – walks up to the ladies behind us and start talking to them in Tagalog, much to their surprise.  “You’re a Filipino?” they asked.  “Yes, of course.”  “Half Filipino?” the astonished ladies asked, thinking she probably might be half Pakistani.  “No, I’m 100% Filipino!”  she laughed, yet the ladies still looked surprised.  My sister and I looked at each other, “If we go and tell them right now that we are also Filipinos, they’ll faint!” said my sister, specially with her wearing a very traditional shalwar kameez, me wearing a saree, and both of us having conversation in Urdu.  So we remained Pakistanis that night.

Oh, and Masood called me on the phone, “I’m alone here.  Please ask your friend who her brother is among these men.”  I walked over to the bride and she told me her brothers’ names, and that they were expecting Masood.  “One of my brother is the guy in black suit and red tie,” she added.  So Masood found her brothers, and when he introduced himself, they welcomed him.  Masood was pleasantly surprised when the father also knew him by name!  “So you are Mr. Masood!” he said cheerfully, “Come, let me introduce you to my friends.”  Thereafter, Masood enjoyed the evening.

Food was great, alhumdulillah.

The best part of the wedding reception was that it was very solemn:  men and women were in separate rooms, there was no music at all, no annoying photographers, everyone spoke softly, and nobody left food in their plates.  I was very much impressed.  I love her mom and aunt, very sweet ladies, mashaAllah.  They all made me and my family feel very comfortable.  Of course, it definitely helped that mom and sister came along.

We left around midnight.

To the bride and groom, thank you so much for making us part of this important moment of your lives.  May Allah bless your marriage with so much love, health and happiness.

A Pre-Wedding Party, Part 2

The bride remained carefully covered under a heavy veil, as per the tradition she strongly believed in, which I had mentioned in the previous post;  it felt slightly awkward speaking to her that way.  She could see us, but we saw only the movement of her head as she spoke.

10 pm

The bride’s family, along with 30 other women, finally arrived.  Three  hours late.

They brought a basket of flowers, and lots of candles with them.

They were heavily made up.

The sisters came in the room first.  Friend’s wife and I stood to greet them with a salaam – which they totally ignored – and walked past us towards the bride.  They didn’t really care who we were.  No introductions.

But one of the bride’s aunt was sweet enough to ask us how we were related to the groom.  “He’s a good friend of  my husband,” I told her.  She smiled a lot;  I liked her.

10:30 pm

The girls were still busy with their clothes, hair and makeup.  When they found some time in between those tasks, they busied themselves taking pictures of the veiled bride.

I sat in the corner with friend’s wife, bored and hungry.

I heard that the guys were having dinner in the other room.  Lucky people.

11 pm

I finally asked, “How do we get this party started?”  The women looked at each other.  The bride’s sister replied, “We will bring the bride to the living room, and have the groom sit besides her.  We will apply ubtan paste on the groom’s hands and face, and the ladies from his side will apply the paste on the bride.”

“The groom and the bride will sit together?”  asked the surprised mother-of-the-groom, “In Hyderabad, we don’t let them see each other until the nikah is done.”

“But that’s how we do it in Pakistan,” the bride’s sister insisted.

“But we don’t do it that way in India,”  the groom’s mom insisted.

The bride’s aunt gestured to the bride’s sister to quiet down, and said, “Let’s do it the way the groom’s mom wants it done.”

That’s when groom’s mom realized that someone was missing from the crowd, “Where’s the bride’s mother? Didn’t she come with you all?”

That’s when the girls giggled.  One of them said, “She’s sitting right next to the bride!”

The groom’s mother apologized, “Oh! I didn’t recognize you because of the makeup, sorry.”

11:30 pm

“Should we have dinner first?”  asked groom’s mother.

But the bride’s family weren’t hungry yet, “We will eat after the rasam.”

Groom’s mom looked at me and friend’s wife, “Let’s have dinner then.  They can eat later.”

Finally, we had dinner!  And it was a peaceful one too.  The food was yummy:  home-cooked chicken qorma.

Meanwhile, the ladies played loud music in the other room.

12 midnight

When friend’s wife and I joined the ladies after our dinner, we found the bride’s sisters and cousins dance to some Hindi song.  I looked around for groom’s mom, found her in the kitchen, and asked whether there was anything I could do to help.  I felt it was time they started the rasam, or whatever it was they intended to do that night (or early morning).

Groom’s mom brought out the bowl of ubtan paste, and entered the room where the ladies were still jumping dancing to the songs.  “How about we start now?” she asked the bride’s mom.

“How about we have dinner first?  I’m sure the girls are starving.”  And the girls happily agreed.

I wanted to hit something.

12:30 am

Friend’s wife and I helped groom’s mom with the gifts she brought for her new daughter-in-law.  Three suit-cases full of colorful, glittering sarees.  They all looked so pretty!  I love Indian sarees.  We arranged them carefully on the bed, then paired each one with matching sandals and glass bangles.  It was fun!

We were also shown the gorgeous bridal dress from India;  it was a blue and pink sharara.

1 am

I went in the other room to check on whether we could get the rasam started, and found the ladies sitting in groups, chatting and laughing.  The bride sat on the sofa, all covered up, texting away on her cellphone.  The children were running all over the place.

Obviously, nobody was in a hurry to return home.

1:15 am

I called Masood to pick me up.

1:30 am

I bid farewell to Aunty (the groom’s mom), explaining to her that it was too late already.  She asked me to stay a little longer;  I apologized for having to leave early.  We hugged, and she reminded me to attend the wedding.

On my way out, I found the bride’s mom.  “Acha main chalti houn, it was nice meeting you.”  She smiled and said, “Okay, Allah hafiz.”

And that’s how the exciting pre-wedding party came to an end – for me.

A Pre-Wedding Party, Part 1

7:45 pm

We arrived at the groom’s house, 45 minutes late.  Masood’s friend and his wife, who suggested that they pick us up, had lost their way.  And the Thursday night traffic was horrible too.  The groom’s flat is new, and the lobby is very impressive.  We rang the doorbell.  “I think we’re the first one’s to arrive,”  says the friend’s wife, “there aren’t any shoes outside the door.”

And she was right.

We met the groom’s mother and two brothers.  The boys sat in the living room, while the girls settled in the bedroom.

Groom’s mother, hereafter referred to as Aunty, is a simple woman from Hyderabad.  She and her husband have a daughter and five sons.  Daughter is married and so are two of her sons.  Everyone in the family, except for the groom and a brother, live in Hyderabad.  It was Aunty’s first time in Dubai.  In fact, she just landed five days ago. She mentions having a difficult time preparing for the wedding since they do not have relatives in the U.A.E.

8:30 pm

The bride finally arrived with her 10-year-old sister and a couple of her friends.  Friend’s wife and I were then asked by Aunty to go to the other room to meet the bride.  We found her sitting on the bed in a black abaya, niqab and gloves – and were very impressed.  After exchanging salaams, friend’s wife suggested that the bride can now remove her abaya since men won’t be coming into the room.

“But then you’ll be able to see my face,”  said the bride, “so if you don’t mind, would you please go to the other room for a minute while I remove my abaya?”

8:50 pm

“You may come in now!”  called the bride’s sister.

We re-entered the room, and found the bride with a large veil covering her entire face.

“There’s a Pakistani tradition, you see,”  she explained, “that a bride mustn’t show her face for seven days prior to the wedding, else there won’t be any ronak, or glow, on the bride’s face.  I haven’t shown my face to anyone for the past four days, not to my mom or sisters even.  I sleep in the room alone, with the door locked, lest someone comes in and sees my face uncovered.”

“But the wedding reception is on Saturday, that’ll only be the sixth day.  Will you remain covered on your wedding day?”  I asked, surprised.  I mean, I didn’t know about this tradition.

“Of course not!  We didn’t have much time to prepare for this wedding, so I’m making an exception.  I’m removing the veil tomorrow.”

“Oh.” Friend’s wife and I looked at each other.

9 pm

We were still sitting in the bride’s room, and decided to interrogate her.

“So where in Pakistan are you from?”

“Multan.  But I’ve been born and brought up here in the U.A.E.  All of my family and relatives live here.”

“Where did the two of you meet?”

“At his office party, two years ago.  We’ve been in contact since then.  I love Hyderabadi food!”

“I suppose you’ll be organizing a party in Multan as well, you know, to introduce him to the rest of the clan there.”

“Not really.  I haven’t been to Pakistan yet, and besides, everyone important is already here.”

“You don’t want to go to Pakistan?”

“I’m not interested.”

“But you’re going to Hyderabad?”

“Oh yes!  He’s going to introduce me to everyone there.”

“Where in Hyderabad does his family live?”

She mentions a name, but since it sounded unfamiliar to me, I forgot. Friend’s wife told me it’s in the old city, near Charminar.  I began recalling the crowded streets, narrow alleys, and homes that were practically glued to each other, leaving no space between them.

“Oh, you’ll love it there,”  I told her with a smile.

Continued here …