the baki life

noreply@blogger.com (asif) — Thu, 15 Apr 2010 21:24:00 +0000

saying so long to the blog. it's been some time since i've posted on this blog. although there are many things that i could write about, i've been dissuaded by my inability to keep the blog relatively private. google makes all things a little too easy to get to :-).

i'll keep writing but probably in a more private forum like notes on facebook or something of the sort.

thanks for tuning in.

noreply@blogger.com (asif) — Thu, 05 Nov 2009 19:20:00 +0000

hajj season is around again and a cousin of mine emailed to let me know that he and his wife are going. he asked for any advice i had for him. for those of you who don't know, the wife and i went on hajj 2 years back. here's a copy of the email i sent him.

hajj advice.

I'm so happy for you both. May Allah accept your journey and make it easy for you.

Pack light. I can't stress it enough. Take only the things you will need and nothing more. Sumaiyya and I took large camping backpacks as our main bags and fit all our clothes, ihram, etc. in those bags. They were easy to carry just in case we needed to trek from place to place instead of bussing. Many times walking was quicker than bussing.

I know that Airborne has been proven to be nothing special, but we took a pack of vitamin c water mix ins and Airborne with us. We mixed it with our zam zam once or twice a day. It seemed to do a good job in keeping us healthy. We stopped when we got busy and that's when we got sick. Not sure, but it seemed to help.

Make sure you look at the cups you take from the water stacks before you use them. Better yet, don't use them. Take a water bottle with you and fill it up continuously. Don't take one that's so large that it'll be a pain to carry around or one so expensive that you'll feel bad if you lose it. You should be perfectly comfortable losing everything :-) you take to Hajj.

If you're planning on spending the night outside at Muzdalifa then it may suit you to take a decent sleeping bag. It can get cold. We were told it was going to be cold but I was still sweating. The other thing you'll hear is that it is windy. We took a small umbrella with us just in case the dust got to be a huge issue. (We would have put it up next to our heads to protect ourselves).

Some people make small keychains with tawaf beads on them. Move one bead every time you finish a round. It sounds kinda odd but trust me you can forget how many times you've been around.

Make your own prayer book. Buy a small book from a craft store that you can write in. No matter how many books you read, you'll never know one as personally as one you've written. Copy all the du'aas and procedures etc. into this book. What I did was have different sections for the different parts of Hajj. Specifically for Tawaf, I dedicated one page to each du'aa when going around the Kabah (the recommended du'aas). By the end of tawaf I had them memorized. Same for Sa'ii etc. Hopefully you can fit this book in your thaub pocket or it's small enough that you don't mind carrying it around. I would write in an ink that won't bleed (or pencil as I did) because the book will get sweat-ed on if not by you then by someone else. I know, hehe.

Energy bars are good to keep just in case you get hungry during travel.

Practice putting on your ihram before you get to your Meeqat. It's not as easy as it looks (for guys). Ask your dad to teach you how to wear a loonghi. They have a foolproof beltless hold that will stay faithful to you during your tightly packed tawaf.

I'll send more advice as I think of it. Enjoy - this is the best experience evar.

noreply@blogger.com (asif) — Tue, 02 Jun 2009 02:52:00 +0000

Sumaiyya is putting CACA in her hair. Sorry I had to share.

noreply@blogger.com (asif) — Sat, 30 May 2009 04:57:00 +0000

i've got my iphone hooked up to my blog again now so now posting images to my blog is as easy as snap and send. woohoo. that means you'll be seeing a lot of useless images in the near future. aren't you excited? i haven't figured out how to add captions either so in addition to being useless, the pictures will have absolutely no context. lucky you. i wish i could read blogs like mine.

noreply@blogger.com (asif) — Sat, 30 May 2009 04:57:00 +0000

so what do you do when you have 8 lbs of cherries? you make cherry everything. cherry ice cream is where we started. it's a pretty simple recipe that is essentially vanilla ice cream with cherry puree mixed in. for the added cherry kick we cut up cherries into chunks and threw them in on top. we've sampled but not truly tasted the final product. it's in the freezer waiting for a "dessert party" next wednesday. yes, you read right. you can comment and make fun of me. i will be attending a "dessert party" and that too on a wednesday.

noreply@blogger.com (asif) — Wed, 27 May 2009 00:20:00 +0000

today was a step forward for me in a way that many of you may see as being negligible. i admit, before today, i probably felt the same way. over the past few weeks i've been researching cars. i was looking for a car that would bring back what i was missing with my civic - small, zippy, fun. i also wanted to venture out of my comfort zone and get a manual transmission car. for so long, i've been living in the comfortable world of automatic transmissions. 3 pedals? you crazy? it should be as simple as gas and brake, gas and brake, gas and brake. where'd the haddi in the kabob come in - clutch. but lately, it's become more and more intriguing - not so much because of the transmission itself but because of the challenge. it's a challenge which i've been shying away from for years - so at a time when i've been losing motivation elsewhere - why not pick up something to get me going again?

anyhow, i bought a car on saturday. sunday, my cousin naheed took me out for some lessons. it was a hellish experience filled with speed bumps, starting and stopping, stalling, and all the goodness you can imagine. in the end, naheed made me drive home. not nice. it built my confidence and allowed me to get to a point where i was comfortable with the gears and somewhat with the clutch.

there's an interesting similarity (get ready for some deepness) between driving stick and living life: getting into first gear is the hardest. once you're rolling, it's pretty much butter. taking the analogy a step further - you gotta know how much to release the clutch and how much to push the gas; timing is essential. you may be doing all the right things but at the wrong time they won't do you no good and at best you'll stall. at worst, you may grind your gears and end up really hurting yourself. have confidence, don't care about the jerk behind you honking in his ford f-150, and take your time to get things right. once you get the hang of it, things will go a lot more smoothly. taking an analogy from my commute to work this morning - choose your path wisely. it could be the key to your success. figure out what the tell-tale signs of failure are and avoid them at all costs (sharp turns, places where you'll have to slow to a halt and restart from 1st gear, lots of stop and go traffic).

time for some rest. talk again soon.

noreply@blogger.com (asif) — Thu, 07 May 2009 22:31:00 +0000

1000 words a day.

ok that was odd. i was writing 1000 words a day in my title and i looked to my right and saw someone writing it on a whiteboard. freaky. maybe it's a sign!

anyhow, i'm finishing up an audio cd set about educating your child in the west. one of the things it encourages is to build consistency in reading, writing, and speaking. expressing yourself effectively is a skill that can open many doors in life and help you to progress in your goals.

my 1000 words a day will be about anything and everything. don't mind my rambling - John Taylor Gatto told me that it doesn't matter how i write. i should be simple and just get my thoughts out. i don't need to have fancy schmancy words like "rambling".

when i was a kid i used to watch doogie howser md. remember that show? well, at the end he would reflect on his day in a journal that he kept on his computer. come on, honestly - you know you've tried to do the same. i've tried and consistently been inconsistent. i think it's the need to write something interesting that stops me from writing. the truth is that i barely have anything profound to say - i have to learn to love thinking out loud and maybe then something profound will develop. nawhatimsayin?

a friend of mine started a website called giveme27.com. it's a mashup of a bunch of google products used to track how many pushups you do every day. it's simple but oddly motivational. oh - what? no. it hasn't gotten me to do any pushups yet but i'm sure i'll try it out sometime. there's a forum where you can discuss your love for said exercise method with like-minded individuals. i'm not sure how much i can talk about pushups but eh.

i'm working on a new project at work that has me pretty stoked. in case you haven't heard that word before it's because normal people don't use it. it's a california term i guess. i didn't want to use it. i swear. it just happened. any way i'm pretty stoked about this new project. i'm finding myself networking well with folks outside of research to make myself and them useful resources for the company. we're "cross-pollinating" ideas and having a good time. it also taps into personal interests and the experience i gained while i was in india. fun fun. (413 words in case you were counting).

taking a break. be back in a few.

we learned morphology in arabic class today. morphology is a study of the structure of words. in arabic, words are formed (mostly) from three letter roots. it's amazing to see how scientific the language is. to an engineer, i'm sure the rules just make sense. i can't wait to be fluent. ah, another asipration of mine is to learn arabic calligraphy. do you know any calligraphy teachers in northern california? if so, please let me know. i'd love to learn.

biggest lesson learned today: work on effective communication skills - you never know how or when you'll need them. today, we had an "all hands" meeting for the user experience team. it was motivating to see so many people from our group who are skilled presenters - orally and visually. humor, class, technique, style, and a strong understanding of their area of focus helped these guys and girls impress the audience and convey their thoughts with ease. hopefully as i express myself more i'll be able to speak with the same confidence.

well, that's all folks. time for me to call it a night. i may/may not start posting notes on facebook rather than my blog - it allows me to share with only people who i know. i'm starting to get a bit wierded out by knowing that anyone could be reading t h i s r i g h t n o w.

g'nite.

noreply@blogger.com (asif) — Fri, 24 Apr 2009 00:02:00 +0000

So when I was a kid I had two favorite movies: Naseeb and Mahaan - both Amitabh Bachchan classics. It's amazing the emotion that was in these movies that I simply overlooked as a kid. To me, it was all about the fighting scenes and the comedy sequences. The song below is actually sung by Amitabh in his own voice. A bit dramatic, but have a little patience - it's a great song.

noreply@blogger.com (asif) — Fri, 20 Mar 2009 22:27:00 +0000

we're back. we arrived back in san francisco on the 21st of february. and so comes to an end an amazing chapter in our lives. more to come.

noreply@blogger.com (asif) — Mon, 05 Jan 2009 05:34:00 +0000

As our time here in India winds down, Sumaiyya and I have come out to Darjeeling to enjoy the winter holidays. We've found it very comforting in these hills, with little to do, to take time to reflect on the amazing graces that God has showered on us - enabling us to travel extensively throughout the past year. We've seen so much history, culture, color, life, and more that we'll never forget. In our minds, India will never be the same. Long gone is the time when we thought of India as a 2 month fun filled summer vacation destination. Many of the things that bothered me about India and Indians back then I understand now. I realize why Indians are the way we are. I understand their needs and happiness more thoroughly. I have been lucky enough to explore these needs both in my personal as well as professional time.

In addition to learning about the general Indian public, I've also had the opportunity to learn about how Indians work. Don't get me wrong - Google is Google and anyone who has seen the Bangalore office can attest to that. The culture is very similar yet there are certain cultural nuances which give the office its own flavor. I won't discuss those here because some of them may be corporate identity observations. Suffice it to say, I'll never be the same after working with the people I've worked with in Bangalore.

Many of my posts early on were humorous in nature. A few detailed gripes that I faced day to day. I stopped writing a few months into my stay. Looking back, I realize that I stopped writing when everything became routine - when I felt normal living in Bangalore. I didn't take time to reflect on my travels in words as the pictures I took (or Sumaiyya took) really did speak those thousand plus words. There's a story behind each of those pictures that I would love to sit and tell you. Many of them will be "toothbrush" stories - the family knows what those are - but many of them could be stimuli for great discussions.

As I sit here in Darjeeling, in this wood walled hotel room, I can't help but wonder what life would have been like - what would I have been like - if I had decided to scrap my Bangalore plans a year back. What would I be doing right now? What would I have to reflect on? I thank God for giving us this wonderful opportunity and I know that in a year, in five years, in ten, and God willing beyond, I'll look back on this blogpost and remember how I was feeling while writing it. I pray that all of you are happy and well. God willing I'll be seeing you soon.

noreply@blogger.com (asif) — Wed, 05 Nov 2008 09:43:00 +0000

yes we can. yes we did. yes we can.

it's as if a huge weight has been lifted off my chest. i'm breathing freely and i don't understand why i feel this good. barack obama was elected to be the next president of the united states earlier this morning. sumaiyya and i joined the "bangalore democrats" at the chancery hotel in bangalore to watch the results trickle in. i was expecting to be at the hotel until noon but by 10:30am it was clear that we had won the election.

reflecting on why i'm happy many things cross my mind. the obvious bit is about the sheer joy of seeing an african american make it to the white house. he has truly torn down all race barriers and made america realize that we can be a nation - undivided, unprejudice, and strong. but moreso, i think i'm happy because obama to me seems to be a good man. he cares for his family, his children. he speaks with humility and decency. he considers the impact of his actions before taking them. he understands the relationships between men and understands how to listen and get people to listen. he's motivating. he's powerful. he plays basketball on election day. i am happy to have him as the leader of my country. i finally feel that i can point to my president and say - that's the man who you can look at if you want to know what it is to be a good american. i was asked by a reporter at the hotel today - why is it important to me as a muslim and a minority that obama was elected? as i said, i'm still trying to understand why but i told her that at a fundamental level, we're all human. there are good characteristics in people. when people ask me what it is to be a good muslim, i think it means to have great character. treat others with respect. give importance to family and parents. excel in anything that you do. work hard. be polite. all these things and more, i see in barack as a person. living outside of the US has taught me that there really is a persona that we project to the world. we need to preserve that persona. it has an impact on every part of our lives. we may feel that we dictate our own lives in every detail while living in america. in actuality, the world has a profound effect on us. and we have a profound effect on the world. as obama said early in his victory speech - we accept this victory with humility. i think this is a key aspect to our new persona that we need to project and amplify in the coming years. our nation, however, can only reflect in its persona, who we are as people.

who should we be? let's be that nation of humble people always ready to help others and ourselves - our brother's keepers. let's be that nation of overachievers who never look at a challenge and think - we can't do this. yes we can. while we overachieve and excel though, let's take each other along for the ride. help those around you grow. let's be that nation which understands that change comes from within. within you, within the family, within the community, within the country, within the world. we'll be rewarded by Him for our struggle and efforts. whether something comes of it, that we can leave up to Him. let's be that nation of listeners. you learn so much about yourself when you listen to others. "i'll listen to you... especially when we disagree."

i'm very happy today. i'm happy for barack obama and his family. i'm happy for our nation, that we have a leader that has inspired us to hope. i'm happy for our world, that they'll see a new face to america - that of a person who will listen, listen, listen, talk, then act. i am looking forward to being back in america.

thanks chicago for looking so great on your big night. wish i could have been there with you.

noreply@blogger.com (asif) — Mon, 22 Sep 2008 08:57:00 +0000

An amazingly well written peace by Azhar Usman that deserves your time. Reflect on this.

An Apology

Heartfelt reflections on the passing of a legendary Blackamerican Muslim leader

On September 11th, 2008, while countless American flags whipped in the wind and the television and radio waves were dominated by remembrances, recordings, and stories about the terror attacks of seven years ago, I attended the funeral of Imam W.D. Mohammed (may God be pleased with him). For me, it was a somber day, but I found myself mostly lost in thought: about African-American Muslim communities, about the challenges ahead in American Muslim institution- building, and about the future of Islam in America. If you don't know who Imam WDM was, you should look him up. The Sufis say: "The true sage belongs to his era." And of the many gifts given to Imam WDM by God, perhaps the most obvious and beneficial one was the Imam's profound understanding of the principles of religion, and his adeptness at intelligently applying those Islamic principles in a socially and culturally appropriate manner befitting the everyday lives of his North American followers. While carefully respecting sound, traditional jurisprudential methodologies of the Islamic religion, and the collective religious history and time-honored scholarship of classical Islam, he promulgated creative ideas and dynamic teachings across many domains of human endeavor, including theology, law, spirituality and even ethics and aesthetics, that together articulated a vision for a quintessentially "American Muslim" cultural identity. And he did all of this before anyone else, with quiet strength and unending humility—a true sage indeed.

So I stood before his final resting place, brokenhearted. And I suddenly began to feel the weight of the moment, realizing that when God takes back one of his dearly beloved friends, those who are left behind should cry not for the deceased, but rather for themselves. For the fact that they are now without one of God's friends in their midst, and, in a sense, they are orphaned. And the tears began to well up, for I became acutely aware that I was standing in front of the grave of my spiritual grandfather, who was himself a spiritual descendant of Bilal al-Habashi (may God be pleased with him), the mighty and beloved companion of the Prophet himself. Bilal was the first Black African to convert to al-Islam at the hands of the Prophet Muhammad (may God bless him and keep him) in the sands of Arabia nearly a thousand and a half years ago. Undoubtedly, some measure of that love, mercy, compassion, and spiritual stature that inhabited the heart of Bilal has found its way down through the ages, and I found myself begging God to transfer to my own heart some glimpse of these realities now laying before me.

Almost five years ago, my business partner, Preacher Moss (who is a member of the WDM community) founded the standup comedy tour "Allah Made Me Funny," and he invited me to be his co-founder. Needless to say, it has been nothing less than an honor to work with him on the project. But to many, it was an unusual pairing: a Black comic and an Indian comic? Both Muslims? Working together? And before we ever even announced our partnership publicly, we met privately and swore an allegiance to one another—a blood oath of sorts—which was this: No matter what happens, in good times and in bad, we have to be the brothers no one expects us to be. And built on this promise (and premise), we brought on our first collaborator, Brother Azeem (who is a member of Minister Farrakhan's NOI), with whom we toured for over two years (2004-2006) before parting ways amicably. Then we brought Mohammed Amer onto the team in the fall of 2006 (a Kuwaiti-born Palestinian refugee who grew up in a Sunni Muslim family in Houston, Texas). Mo, Preach, and I are still going strong together, and we are grateful for the unqualified support, love, and blessings that Imam WDM and the entire community have always given us.

But today, as I observed the funeral proceedings, I felt sad and heavy-hearted. Something wasn't sitting right. Something was physically paining my heart, and it felt like remorse, shame perhaps, maybe even guilt. I began to realize that the tears flowing from my eyes were as much a function of these feelings as they were any lofty spiritual aspirations of mine.

You see, I attended an interfaith event a couple of years ago on 9/11. A group had assembled to commemorate the tragic event, to honor those who perished that day, and to pledge ongoing inter-community support and bridge-building to fight ignorance, hate, and intolerance. At that event, there was this short, middle-aged, sweet, extremely kindhearted, White Christian woman. When she took the microphone to speak, she was already teary-eyed, and I assumed that she was going to make some comments about the victims of 9/11, as so many others already had that night.

But she didn't do that. Instead, she explained that she had become utterly grief-stricken by the constant barrage of news stories she witnessed about Muslims and Arabs being harassed, profiled, and mistreated after 9/11. She explained that she felt powerless to do anything about it, and that it made her sick to her stomach to hear of hate crimes against Muslims and Arabs, and especially to hear of Christian preachers denigrating Islam and its Prophet. She started to cry, and so did many others in the room, humbled by the magnanimity of this simple woman.

And then she did what I thought was a strange thing: she apologized. She prefaced her apology with all the logical disclaimers, such as "I know this may mean nothing to you," and "I know that I am not the one who did these horrible things," and "I know that you may dismiss this as empty rhetoric until you see some follow-up action on my part, but anyway," she continued, "I want to apologize on behalf of all the Christians and all non-Muslims and non-Arabs who have been attacking your communities, harassing your people, and accusing your religion of all these horrible things. I'm sorry. I'm very, very sorry." I was stunned. Speechless, in fact. Though all of her disclaimers were true, and my skeptical mind knew it, her apology melted our hearts. Here was this powerless servant of God sharing some of her most deeply felt emotional vulnerabilities, and she was apologizing to Muslims for something she didn't even do? Jesus (may God bless him and keep him) once famously remarked: "Make the world your teacher," and so I immediately took this woman as a lesson in humility. Admitting her powerlessness made her incredibly powerful.

And this brings me to the point (and title) of this essay. I would like to unburden myself of something that has been sitting like a ton of bricks on my heart for my entire life. I want to apologize to my Blackamerican brothers and sisters in Islam. I know that this apology may not mean very much; and I know that our American Muslim communities have a LONG way to go before we can have truly healthy political conciliation and de-racialized religious cooperation; and I know that I am not the one who is responsible for so much of the historical wrongdoing of so-called "immigrant Muslims"—wrongdoings that have been so hurtful, and insulting, and degrading, and disrespectful, and dismissive, and marginalizing, and often downright dehumanizing.

But anyway, for every "Tablighi" brother who may have had "good intentions" in his own subjective mind, but behaved in an utterly insensitive and outrageous manner toward you when he suggested that you need to learn how to urinate correctly, I'm sorry.

And for every Pakistani doctor who can find money in his budget to drive a Lexus and live in a million-dollar house in suburbia, and who has the audacity to give Friday sermons about the virtues of "Brotherhood in Islam," while the "Black mosque" can't pay the heating bills or provide enough money to feed starving Muslim families just twenty miles away, I'm sorry.

And for every Arab speaker in America who makes it his business to raise millions and millions of dollars to provide "relief" for Muslim refugees around the world, but turns a blind eye to the plight of our very own Muslim sisters and brothers right here in our American inner cities just because, in his mind, the color black might as well be considered invisible, I'm sorry.

And for every liquor store in the "hood" with a plaque that says Maashaa' Allah hanging on the wall behind the counter, I'm sorry.

And for every news media item or Hollywood portrayal that constantly reinforces the notion that "Muslim=foreigner" so that the consciousness of Blackamerican Muslims begins even to doubt itself (asking "Can I ever be Muslim enough?"), I'm sorry.

And for every Salafi Muslim brother (even the ones who used to be Black themselves before converting to Arab) who has rattled off a hadith or a verse from Koran in Arabic as his "daleel" to Kafirize you and make you feel defensive about even claiming this deen as your own, I'm sorry.

And for every time you've been asked "So when did you convert to Islam?" even though that question should more properly have been put to your grandparents, since they became Muslims by the grace of God Almighty back in the 1950s, and raised your parents as believers, and Islam is now as much your own inheritance as it is the one's posing that presumptuous, condescending question, I'm sorry.

And for every time some Muslim has self-righteously told you that your hijab is not quite "Shariah" enough, or your beard is not quite "Sunnah" enough, or your outfit is not quite "Islamic" enough, or your Koranic recitation is not quite "Arabic" enough, or your family customs are not quite "traditional" enough, or your worldview is not quite "classical" enough, or your ideas are not "authentic" enough, or your manner of making wudu is not quite "Hanafi," "Shafi," "Maliki," or "Hanbali" enough, or your religious services are not quite "Masjid" enough, or your chicken is not quite "Halal" enough, I'm sorry.

And for every Labor Day weekend when you've felt divided in your heart, wondering "When will we ever do this thing right and figure out how we can pool our collective resources to have ONE, big convention?," I'm sorry.

And for every time a Muslim has tried to bait you with a question about the Honorable Elijah Muhammad, trying to force you to condemn him—turning it into some sort of binary litmus test of true iman—with reckless and irresponsible disregard for the historical fact that he was among the first Black men in America to ever do anything meaningful for the upliftment and betterment of Black people, I'm sorry.

And for every time you've heard of an African-American brother who tried to bring home a South Asian or Arab sister to meet his parents, only to learn that her parents would rather commit suicide than let their daughter marry a "Black Muslim" (a/k/a "Bilalian brother"), even as they cheer hypocritically at stadium style speeches by Imams Siraj Wahhaj, Zaid Shakir, Johari Abdul Malik, or others—or get in line to bring one of them to speak at their multi-million dollar fundraiser for yet another superfluous suburban mosque, I'm sorry.

I'm sorry. I'm very, very sorry. From the bottom of my heart, I want every African-American Muslim brother and sister to know that I am ashamed of this treatment that you have received and, in many cases, continue to receive, over the decades. I want you to know that I am aware of it. I am conscious of the problem. (Indeed, I am even conscious that I myself am part of the problem since curing hypocrisy begins by looking in the mirror.) I am not alone in this apology. There are literally thousands, if not tens of thousands of young American Muslims just like me, born to immigrant parents who originate from all over the Muslim world. We get it, and we too are sick of the putrid stench of racism within our own Muslim communities. Let us pledge to work on this problem together, honestly validating our own and one another's insecurities, emotions, and feelings regarding these realities. Forgiveness is needed to right past wrongs, yet forgiveness is predicated on acknowledging wrongdoing and sincerely apologizing. Let us make a blood oath of sorts.

When the bulldozer came to place the final mounds of dirt over the tomb of Imam WDM, I was standing under a nearby tree, under the light drizzle that had just begun (perhaps as a sign of mercy dropping from the heavens as the final moments of the burial were drawing to a close), and I was talking to a dear friend and sister in faith, whose family has been closely aligned with Imam WDM for decades. She shared with me a story that her father had just related to her about the passing of the Honorable Elijah Muhammad in 1975 (the same year I was born, incidentally) . She told me that her father described the scene in the immediate aftermath of Elijah's demise: utter confusion and chaos within the NOI and the communities surrounding it. There was much debate and discord about what direction the NOI would take, and many were still in shock and denial that the founder had actually died. Out of the midst of that confusion arose Imam WDM, and along with his strong leadership came an even more, perhaps surprisingly courageous direction: the path away from the Black nationalism, pan-Africanism, and proto-religious beliefs of his father, and instead the unequivocal charge toward mainstream Islam, the same universal and cosmopolitan faith held and practiced by over a billion adherents worldwide. In this manner, her father explained, the death of Elijah Muhammad became a definitive end to a chapter in our collective history, and the resulting re-direction by Imam WDM marked the beginning of the next, far better, chapter in that unfolding history.

Maybe I am just an idealistic fool, or maybe Pharaoh Sanders was right about the Creator's Master Plan, but I sincerely believe that all we have to do—all of us together: Black folks, South Asians (Indians, Pakistanis, Bangladeshis) , Arabs from every part of the Middle East and North Africa, Southeast Asians (Indonesians and Malaysians), Persians, Turks, Latinos, assorted Muslims of all stripes, colors, and backgrounds, and yes, even our White Muslim brothers and sisters—is live up to a simple promise to one another: No matter what happens, in good times and in bad, we have to be the brothers and sisters no one expects us to be.

It is hoped that the passing of Imam WDM will also mark the end of a chapter in our collective American Muslim history, and perhaps now, in earnest, we can all look together toward The Third Resurrection.

May God mend our broken hearts, lift our spirits, purify our souls, heal the rifts between our communities, unify our aims, remove our obstacles, defeat our enemies, and bless and accept our humble offerings and service.

------------ --------- --------- --------- ----

About the Author

Azhar Usman is a Chicago-based, full-time standup comedian. He is co-founder of "Allah Made Me Funny—The Official Muslim Comedy Tour," which has toured extensively all over the world. He is frequently interviewed, profiled, and quoted in the press, and he is an advisor to the Inner-city Muslim Action Network's Arts and Culture programs. Mr. Usman is also a co-founding board member of The Nawawi Foundation, a non-profit American Muslim research institution. He considers himself a citizen of the world and holds degrees from the University of Illinois at Chicago and the University of Minnesota Law School. Born and raised in Chicago, his parents originally hail from Bihar, India

noreply@blogger.com (asif) — Tue, 02 Sep 2008 03:57:00 +0000

Making decisions without thinking thoroughly through the consequences first. Sound familiar?

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/09/02/us/politics/02vetting.html?em

noreply@blogger.com (asif) — Tue, 02 Sep 2008 03:28:00 +0000

Assalamu alaikum - May peace be unto you.

Ramadan Mubarak. I wish you and your families the best during this month. May God accept your prayers, keep you happy, and bring you closer to Him. Please keep me and my family in your prayers.

- Asif

noreply@blogger.com (asif) — Thu, 28 Aug 2008 12:51:00 +0000

"Mr. McCain’s inner circle was described as divided on the choices, although one Republican close to the campaign said that there had been no raging internal debate. Whatever the aides’ opinions, Mr. McCain was said to have made the decision on his own." - MSNBC.com Article

Doesn't that just say it all? What good are aides and advisors when you go off and make decisions on your own without their help and information? What kind of president will this man be if he doesn't take into account the opinions, thoughts, etc. of his constituency and instead goes off and makes decisions "on his own". Oh, I feel like starting a war. I think the I-ran is wrong. I think... please. Don't elect this guy president.

noreply@blogger.com (asif) — Sun, 24 Aug 2008 10:26:00 +0000

we've been traveling a lot lately for fun and for work. not a lot of learning on top of what we've already grown to understand about india but still a lot of genuine experiences that we'll remember years from now when we're back in the US.

the tale of the relentless hawk-eyed taxi driver

so there we were - in mumbai for the weekend ready to attend abid's wedding festivities. we had a hotel room booked at the local ymca (clean, cheap, and food included) and as usual sumaiyya had planned out our shopping, visiting, shopping, eating, and shopping destinations prior to our arrival. we were excited about our first vacation since sumaiyya had started work.

we called for the taxi to arrive around 10am friday morning. 10, 1030, 11 came around and no sign or word from the driver. i had received a text message with his mobile information so i thought i would give him a ring.

"yes sir, i am right here stuck in traffic." (in hindi of course).
"right where sir? how long will it take you to get here? 15, 20 minutes?"
"in traffic, sir."
"ok"

i said frustrated as i hung up the phone. the fact that he hadn't responded with the standard 10 minutes which meant at least half an hour led me to believe that we would be waiting for a while. i gave it about 45 minutes and then called again.

"hi (insert driver name here). where are you?"
"i'm in front of the gate, sir."
"really? that's where i am too! are you at the front gate or the back."
"near the football stadium sir."
"that's odd. i don't think there is a football stadium around here anywhere."

i handed the phone to the security guard and asked him to give the driver directions to the front gate. after a brief conversation in what sounded like marathi, he handed the phone back to me and notified me that the driver was in colaba, at the OTHER YMCA, about 20 minutes from our hotel. lovely. 30 minutes passed and then the driver showed up.

"sorry sir. they sent me to the other location."
"no problem, let's get going. we're running late."

he seemed like a nice guy and i didn't want to start out on the wrong foot for scolding him about something that probably wasn't his fault. our first stop was the gateway of india and the taj hotel. as he drove down small streets on our way to the gateway, sumaiyya and i started a conversation about the activities for the day.

"sir!"
... (i didn't respond as i was talking to sumaiyya)
"sir!" he said again. louder than before.
"yes?"
"ye hai american passport office."
"ok" smile. "if we ever want to get an american passport we'll come here" i said as i laughed at his remarking about tourist landmarks. he knew we were from bangalore - nothing more.

a minute or two passed and sumaiyya and i again started up our conversation about places on the list to visit.

"sir!"
"yes?" i responded. i had learned from last time that he wouldn't stop until i answered.
"ye hai carut." as he pointed to a building in the distance.
silence.
"kya?" (what?)
"carut sir."
"woh kya?" (what is that?)
"carut sir. jahaan bade vakil aatein."
"oh COURT!"
silence.

we continued on and reached the gateway of india. we notified the driver that we would give him a call when we were done with our touring and lunch. after an hour or so in side of the taj and walking around the gateway of india, we decided it was time for a bite to eat. we found a mughlai cuisine restaurant (my favorite) and had some amazing food.

after a pleasant lunch, we found our way back to the car. standing in front of the car, i called the driver to ask where he was.

"i'm at the car." said the driver.
"really? i am too." said i.

from a distance i saw him running towards the car at full speed. ah, there he was. at the car but about 5 mins. walking distance away. our next stops were various shopping outlets in the area. we rounded out the day at the mehndi and then let our driver go around midnight or so.

the next morning he showed up on time and took us around for the day. again, more shopping. a lot of stop and go. one particular time we let him go to find parking while we walked to a nearby shop. after spending an hour or so looking around, i called him to let him know that we were done. he told me that he had found a parking spot where he had dropped us off (around the corner from where we were). as i rounded the corner, i smiled at sumaiyya and told her that he was going to jump out of the car and wave wildly when he saw us coming. sumaiyya told me that there was another shop around the corner that she wanted to see. sure enough, as soon as we rounded the corner he jumped out the car.

"sir! sir!"
"yes, we see you. we'll be right there."

satisfied that he had gotten our attention, he sat back in the car. this hawkeye would definitely come in handly later that night. at around 8pm he dropped us off around the corner and down the street from the wedding hall. i was dressed in a white shalwar kameez and sumaiyya in a gold, orange, and green outfit. according to custom, after the wedding ceremony was completed, the food was served. also per custom, the friends of the bride and groom sat with their friend to eat. as the host, the bride and groom were served last. we ended up leaving the hall around midnight. my phone was dead and sumaiyya's barely had any juice left. i was worried that we wouldn't be able to find the driver as he had dropped us off in front of a no parking area. i called his mobile but to no avail. his cell was dead too. uh oh.

we exited the hall and walked back towards the area where he had dropped us off hoping that he would have found parking nearby. no luck. we turned around on the dimly lit street in the light drizzle and started walking back towards the hall thinking that we would hire an auto rickshaw to go back to the hotel. as we turned around we saw a faint shadow in the distance running toward us - again at full speed :-). you guessed it.

"sir! sir! gaadi!" (sir! sir! car!)

i smiled as i walked back towards him. this guy was hardcore. somehow, in the dark, from about two alleys down, with many people who were also dressed in white shalwar kameez, he spotted sumaiyya's dress and came running. he definitely deserved a tip. nevertheless, he made it a point to let me know that he had received great tips in the past.

"thoda time pehla ek mister aayvotho abroad thi. inne mane kidu ke bhai tu bo saaru driving kareche. thane jitla paisa joytha hai tu maang. mein kidu, 'naa sir. yeh toh meri duty hai. mera farz hai.' bo saara aadmi hata."

a little while ago a man came from abroad. he said to me, "you're a great driver. just say how much you want [for a tip] and i'll give it to you. i said, 'no sir. this is my duty. it is obligatory on me [to help you]. he was a great man."

i got the hint.

the next night sumaiyya decided to stay at the hotel while i went off to the reception. our flight was due to take off at 6am meaning we had to be at the airport by 5am. i thought that it would be less expensive to hire a normal taxi rather than pay for an airport drop off by the rental car. the driver asked me if i wanted him to come at 3 in the morning for the airport drop off. i said that i'd talk to a taxi driver first to see how much the rate was. when i arrived back at the hotel, i walked across the road to a taxi driver and (in gujarati) talked to him about the ride to the airport. he said that he could do it for Rs. 330. this was less than half of what the rental car would cost and a lot cheaper than what the hotel folks told me a taxi would cost. i was about to agree to the price when i saw our driver come running from across the street.

"yeh toh apun ka bhai hai. foreigner to nai hai. 300 mein kardo." (this guy's our own brother - he's not a foreigner. do it in 300)
taxi driver: "330 is a standard cost. i'm not charging him more. sorry, i can't do less."
our driver looked over to me to make sure i knew he was putting in extra effort. "chal yaar, 300 mein kardo. hojaayega."
taxi driver: "330 is a standard cost. i can't do less."
our driver: "ok 330 is fine."

thanks guy :). he had worked hard for his money and was achin' for a tip at the end of the 3 days. i gave him a tip and sent him on his way. nice, hardworking guy. i was happy to have met him.

we had a great time at abid's wedding and plenty of fun driving around mumbai. it's a lot like new york in that you can't see all of it in a weekend. you spend a lot of time traveling and there's not enough time to see all the little things the city has to offer.

noreply@blogger.com (asif) — Thu, 24 Jul 2008 08:46:00 +0000

i'll be heading to gujarat this weekend for my cousin's wedding. we'll be flying out of bangalore on friday evening and then returning monday morning right in time for work. the following weekend sumaiyya and i will be spending some time in mumbai for a college friend's wedding. after all the friends' weddings that i have missed over the years - these back to back weddings, being in india, affording the travel, and having the time away from work seem like a huge blessing. i plan to enjoy myself :).

work has been getting increasingly busy over the past few weeks. the new quarter started at the beginning of july and with that many changes in my work life. it's been five months in india already and it feels like i landed yesterday. well, not quite. but i know that had this been a six month assignment and not a full year, i wouldn't be able to accomplish my goals. there's still a lot to do here and god willing i have seven months more to complete it. it's been a great challenge so far and i'm aching to see what i'll be able to reflect on at the end of my time here.

i haven't mentioned my trip to gujarat a few months back where i visited SEWA have i? SEWA stands for self employed womens' association. it's a group that helps women develop skill sets that they can use to provide for themselves and their family. i don't mean only sewing - i mean fixing water pumps and tractors. i was amazed at how confident these women are. women who have never received a formal education are learning to use computers and send email! more than anything, the visit taught me that confidence and belief in yourself is the biggest key to opening up new horizons.

at work, when i see eric schmidt (ceo of Google) on a screen, i don't see an un-accomplishable goal. i see someone who worked hard and got some place. if i work hard there's nothing stopping me from getting to a similar place. when i look in the eyes of the kids who work as office boys in the google office, i don't see that same hope. the divide is so much greater. these kids look at most - what 18? they still have so much time to learn. so much time to grow. so much time to make more out of their lives. how do i give them the hope/courage/knowledge/confidence/belief that they can do something for themselves? they don't have to have the same profession as the other kids they know. they don't have to do the same thing their father did. they can excel.

it got me thinking about what i can do to give back to the community in which my mom and dad grew up. unfortunately, even with groups like SEWA in the Visnagar (small town where my parents grew up) area, many Muslims are not taking advantage of their services. what i've heard generally from people is that education isn't taken seriously, and due to the poverty in the community parents opt to pull their children in to family businesses rather than pushing them to gain higher education. i've thrown around ideas in my head. open up a computer lab for them. would that really help without a teacher? start tuition classes and teach them in a fun way. would that really help without consistency? what can i do so that i can have a lasting impact on the children without actually being physically present? how can i instill that hope in them - that knowledge that they can be more. i don't want them to be complacent. i want them to hurt when they aren't progressing. am i being too idealistic? maybe these people don't want to / don't see a need to be helped.

eh. later.

noreply@blogger.com (asif) — Sun, 06 Jul 2008 09:44:00 +0000

hey all,

i just got back from leh a week back. here are some pictures from the trip. enjoy! i'll write more about the trip in a bit. lots learned, tons experienced.

asif

it's been a while...

noreply@blogger.com (asif) — Fri, 20 Jun 2008 15:31:00 +0000

hey all. it's been a while since i posted and for some time i've been reflecting on why that may be the case. i know, boring right? life's not about the blog - and the blog isn't life. i post about what i want to when i want. nothing more. over the past months i've gotten used to seeing the steering wheel on the right side of the car. i've gotten used to sitting in the back seat of the car (unless it's the weekend) and being driven to work. i've gotten used to the smell of hard earned money, the local dirt, and monsoon rains. india's grown on me and i've really begun to appreciate living here. i'm not saying i don't miss home - i just know that i'll miss many things about this place when i do return home.

the characters in our play, as of now, are pretty much the same. our driver, bhaskar, you know, has been replaced by ravi. ravi is a great guy - he's honest, hard working, and easy to talk to. i'm sure he gets annoyed at how much i practice my hindi on him but oh well :). our housekeeper, vijaya, is still vijaya. we had a few talks with her about taking her work seriously but haven't had any major issues with her. she too is a nice woman and helps out a great deal.

as i type this note, we're on the way to kumarokum (spelling?) from cochin. we flew into cochin on wednesday morning and we'll be flying back to bangalore on saturday evening inshaAllah. we decided to take a few days off and come out to cochin to get a breather. it's been a while since we've made a trip for the purpose of vacationing. it's been a bit rainy here in cochin but overall it's been hella relaxing. we spent our first day walking around the surprisingly small city of chocin checking out nice little trinket shops and various mosques that have been built over the past few hundred years. we also strolled around jewtown for a bit. it's the part of town where there is a concentration of jews - descendants of some settlers a few hundred years back. we saw the synagogue from the outside because it was too late to go in. we stopped by a small jewish trinket shop on the walk back and met an elderly woman named sarah. she sat alone in her dimly lit shop carefully stitching sequins onto a brightly colored yammaka (jewish mens' religious hat). i asked her the price of them and she stared at me for a second. then she looked over at my hijab-wearing wife and then back at me. :) "those are for jewish men when they go to the synagogue" she said with a thick indian accent. "yes, ma'am - it's not for me - it's for a friend of mine in the states," i clarified. she said "they don't wear these in the states; not with the sequins at least." the price she eventually quoted was too high anyway :) so i thanked her and walked. it's amazing the diversity in religion and cultures that you can find in every pocket of india.

we had a sneaking suspicion that we were the only guests staying at the five star hotel we checked into. we were upgraded to a really nice suite complete with a patio that had a swing! for the latter part of the night i sat out on the swing singing to myself. oh the torture. it was great fun. i can't wait to buy a swing and the find a place to hang it up in the states.

the second day was less eventful. we took a ferry out to enarkulum (spelling?) the larger city-er part of cochin. we walked around in the immense heat for about half an hour before deciding to park ourselves in a bookstore for a bit. we flipped through some tourist books and found out about what activities there might be to do. turned out there was an old martial arts school that you could visit to watch the students practice. we called to make an appointment but no answer. we ended up walking around and then eating at a place called bimmy's i think.

day 3. we're going to be getting on a houseboat at around noon. we'll be traveling from kumarokum to aleppi and back. we'll be reaching kumarokum tomorrow at around 10am. the houseboat activities include local meals, dance, and music. i'm pretty excited. we'll see how it goes.

i'll post this when i get connectivity. by then i should have some pictures to share too. later!

noreply@blogger.com (asif) — Tue, 03 Jun 2008 23:59:00 +0000

it's wednesday morning, 5:30am India Standard Time. obama's inching closer to being the democratic presidential nominee. this feels more like a twitter post than a blog - i'm out of it. tired, gonna go back to sleep. i'll blog sometime soon; haven't had a chance lately.

noreply@blogger.com (asif) — Sat, 17 May 2008 17:00:00 +0000

the indian advertisement industry in some respects is far superior to the american ad industry. check out this hilarious ad.

enjoy.

noreply@blogger.com (asif) — Sat, 10 May 2008 03:51:00 +0000

please don't spit here. i took precious time to write this post.

it's been a bit since i've written a real blog post - other than my obama promo materials (which seemed to have worked by the way) - things have been a bit busy. let's do a recap of recent events:

sumaiyya's family in bangalore. sumaiyya's family from chennai (madras) was in town for a few days. we had a great time. it felt awesome to have the house full. jibran, our little 2 year old cousin --

-- made sure that mocha didn't have a moment to rest. by benefit of jibran's tireless chasing, she found a few new hiding places in the house --

- we ate out often while the family was here. below is a picture from a tea shop we found called infinitea. they have great breakfast and the kids really liked the grilled chicken sandwich. i had some sort of bruschetta-wannabee spicy toast with cheese. yeah, it'll be grilled chicken next time. i ended up eating out of ammaar (lower right)'s plate.

- baking: what better way to celebrate than to eat chocolate? sumaiyya and the kids took the opportunity to make use of our prized cake mix and make cupcakes!

"sumaiyya, the c stands for "celsius".

the cupcakes ended up being cake-cake sized. who knew the cupcake pans had such a big impact on the size of the cupcake. ok, fine. i know it's obvious - but i just never thought about it before.

our last minute trip to chennai. the weekend after family left, we received some sad news from chennai. sumaiyya's grandfather's brother had passed away. he was the eldest brother and very much the stand-in patriarch of the family. it was very tough for her grandparents and so we decided to make a trip out to chennai to spend time with family.

- the train ride. it had been a while since i had ridden on a train in india. we were sitting in ac chair car. sumaiyya quite enjoyed the aromatic interior provided courtesy of the coolies (yes, they're real! no - they don't look like amitabh!)

and i couldn't help but imagine that i was somehow going to walk through the coaches and get to the darjeeling limited-esque food cart. at least that's what this guy told me:

yes, i took a picture of him while he was sleeping. no, i'm not weird. he wouldn't let me take a picture of him any other time - and how was i 'posed to capture this memory? yeah, that's right. don't you feel like a booty? (that one was for you wahida apa.) so this guy sitting next to me had been working on the railroad all the live long day... woah. sorry i started whistling. this guy had been working on the railroad all the live long day... dangit. quit it. this guy had been working on the railways (ha!) for 60+ years and now travels free to bangalore from chennai and back to see his son. he told me that the food --

-- is actually cooked on the train in the food cart. "go check it out" he says. so i got up and walked through the coaches. i asked one of the workers in my pakka hindi, "ay, ghanpat, idhar khaana banaata kya? dekh mereko sidha bataade varna..." (insert cheap sound effect). ok, it wasn't exactly like that but that's the fun version. he told me that they cater the food from some hotel (which in india means restaurant which may or may not be located inside of a hotel. then what do you call the place where you sleep? it's called a hotel - duh.)

- tragic events. arriving in chennai there was definitely a more somber mood than what we're used to. we went straight to sumaiyya's granduncle's house and sat with the family for a few minutes. i left shortly after with sumaiyya's grandfather and cousin. baba (sumaiyya's grandfather) was still in shock. i didn't know what to do to console him. i'm not good when it comes to funerals. i have this bad habit of smiling. i think it's a reflex - trying to shoot happy thoughts to my brain - i start smiling. i know, sucky.

we got home and after a day of spending time with the family more tragic news hit. sumaiyya's mom's cousin's husband, riaz bhai, at 38 years of age had passed away after a freak accident in a swimming pool. he left behind his wife and 9 year old daughter. he was a talented facial reconstruction surgeon who worked for the indian army. he had done a lot of probono work with the army in africa, helping people who had been affected by war injuries. may Allah grant him ease and give him a high ranking in paradise. the weekend reminded me that no matter how we try to convince ourselves that our life is guaranteed, it is far from reality. at any age, at any time, god can call us back and at that point we have no option but to submit. you're choice is no longer your choice. make as many choices for good as you can here and hopefully, we'll benefit from it in the next life. my little cousin umair blogged about the experience here. inna lillahi wa inna ilaihi rajioon. surely we are from Allah and to him we will return.

- returning home. on the way home, we offered to take rida and ammaar, our little cousins, back with us to bangalore. they're on their summer break so we decided that it would be fun for them to spend some time with us. the problem was that train tickets this time of year are really difficult to come by; but we tried sneaking him on -

- above asif and mrs. asif (that's what sumaiyya is known as in india) we crossed off a name and tried to pen in ammaar :). didn't work obviously and we were really kidding anyway. but being on the train platform with about a minute to spare before the train took off, we did have just enough time to re-enact our favorite indian movie scene - can you guess?

not yet? here's another angle.

in addition to the great food and train ambiance and aroma on the way back, there was this guy (above) who insisted on studying my face as we sat across the isle from each other. every time i looked over he was staring. it got freaky when i reached for my phone to take a picture of him hehe - i was holding the phone as if i was talking and then snapped a quick pic. to my surprise he took out his phone and held it up to his ear too. was i sitting across from a mirror? c r e e p y.

swimming in boxes. the friday after we returned from chennai, our sea shipment was delivered.
it took two guys to pack and carry all the boxes from our 2 bed 2 bath apt in san jose to the truck when we moved. when our belongings arrived at our place in bangalore, there were 10+ guys that got out of the truck and within 15 minutes had offloaded all the boxes into our apartment. there is definitely no shortage of manual labor in india. here's a look at how our place looked once the boxes were delivered.

yeah, we spent about 4 days staying up until 2am (actually sumaiyya spent 4 days - i only stayed up for 2) unpacking and organizing. we were happy though. content cuz now we had a little piece of home in the form of these beautiful rolls of toilet paper.

that's right folks. we had boxes of toilet paper. hey man, you don't know what you're missing till you don't got it no more.

and with that, this edition of the baki life comes to a close. thanks for tuning in. give us a call sometime - we miss you.

noreply@blogger.com (asif) — Tue, 06 May 2008 17:54:00 +0000

let us all take a minute to pray. o ba ma. let's close the race for the democratic nomination out today.

o ba ma.

noreply@blogger.com (asif) — Tue, 22 Apr 2008 05:49:00 +0000

www.barackobama.com

after a long time watching the presidential... err democratic debates, i took some time out today to visit barack obama's campaign website. i have to say that i am very impressed. it's a well architect-ed, easy on the eyes design that makes you want to learn more about the candidate. a colleague at work pointed me to a blog which talks about the logo and site design. it's a great read if you have a few minutes.

http://www.underconsideration.com/speakup/archives/004262.html

enjoy. asif.

noreply@blogger.com (asif) — Thu, 17 Apr 2008 09:22:00 +0000

going, going, wait a minute, gone.

so today was bhaskar's last day as our driver. as of 2:55 this afternoon ravi is our new driver. it was a tough decision but we've decided that our comfort in the next year is with having a driver that is generally known to be honest and trustworthy. i made istikhara (a prayer asking for god for whatever is best when making a decision) and then met with the manager of facilities who makes all the decisions about driving.

wait back up.

so last night - bhaskar and i had a long talk where we (i) talked about honesty and how i felt when i learned about his dishonesty. i told him that kilometers didn't matter but it was the principle of being honest that was important to me. if i couldn't trust him with the books i couldn't trust him with my family. i asked him repeatedly if i could trust me and he assured me that i could. his responses were convincing and i felt that giving him another chance at honesty was the way for me to go.

backup a little more.

the manager of facilities came by and mentioned to me that my recently departed (left india not dead) friend's driver was available if i was interested in switching. ravi, has gotten rave reviews from my friend and from the management. he's trustworthy and honest. he has a pleasant demeanor. though tempted, i told the manager that i would get back to him after i spoke to bhaskar that night.

fast forward.

so i told the manager that i was ok with keeping bhaskar as my driver given that we talked and he seemed to be semi-sorry for what had happened and wanted to do better. the manager said that he would support me in any decision. he then asked the supervisor (reports to him) if this was the first time we had trouble with my driver. that's when things got clear. no, this wasn't the first time - this was his third warning. (ahem... three strikes and you're ...) when asked if the previous employee ever gave my driver bonuses, the supervisor said no - the occasional tip, yes - but the bonuses of magnitude which he asked for nope. so my suspicions were confirmed and i'm not one to marry someone to change 'em if you know what i mean. all praises are to Him for making my decision easier.

so in a memento-like narration, i come back to the point. bye bye bhaskar bhai bhai. ravi i will be seeing you sunny ravi. actually, he has sunday off.

thanks to all of you who offered your thoughts and advice. these are minuscule issues compared t the great challenges that people face every day in this world. i thank god that my problems are so small and so easily solved.