January 2006     >>

Every Little Thing

The universe always gives us what we need, whether it seems like enough, or not, whether we like it, or not, whether we know it, or not. The universe gives us what we need, but we are not always grateful.

Recently as I watched a boy, about ten years old, wandering the street outside my apartment in Bangalore, India I became infinitely grateful for every freedom, every comfort.
He was exceptionally dirty; in clothes an American child might be asked to wear to help-father-clean-the-garage. This is normal here though - children covered in grime at ten a.m.
He stood in the sun looking down the road, shading his eyes with his hand, and then turned his gaze to the garbage heap at his side.

He stepped onto a few cast-off stones from an adjacent construction site and crouched down to inspect the refuse.

One white plastic shopping bag, freshly deposited, bearing the name “GIFT EMPORIUM” looked promising.

He picked the plastic apart delicately with his fingers and the bag spilled open, apparently revealing nothing of interest. He was about to turn away when he shook it one last time and out fell another plastic bag, tied at the top - this one, yellow with red Kannada script, was held up with little brown fingertips and curiosity. The second bag would prove to be much more generous - as from among the refuse he came out with one pen and a small, very crumpled notebook. He held the pen up to glisten in the sun, examining it like a found diamond, and tested it on the wrecked paper. Apparently satisfied with the working order of his find he jumped lightly from his perch and started back down the road in the direction from which he had come.

Suddenly he noticed a woman walking her puppy. She was dressed in 'traditional/modern casual wear for the Indian woman' in pure white - a startling contrast to the boy’s dusty ensemble. He responded to her presence with near terror - immediately scuttling toward a nearby wall, hiding the silt prize against his ragged shirt as if he expected her to demand he give it up, as if she had noticed him at all.

He scrambled up the side of the wall which bricked off an active construction site, handing the pen and pad to a woman carrying the dirtiest little person very-much-in-need-of-a-bath-and-a-pair-of-pants I have ever seen.

Behind her, a wiry old man scaled the wall of the half-finished apartment building and she turned to watch him work, waiting for the older child to cross over.

In that instant I realized that these people belong to eachother, they are a family - and they are here to build houses like the one I peer out at them from - houses for other people. Houses they will never have enough money to occupy themselves. Houses for people like me, and the woman dressed in white. Houses full of unused, wasted, bought-and-forgotten things while their children pluck through the garbage for souvenirs.

This boy and his family are part of the background noise in every neighborhood in India. They will work twelve hours a day in an assembly line of human labor on the growing mass of stone habitat; mixing the cement by hand and carrying it in buckets on top of their heads in sun that beats down a sharp 42 degrees. They will sweat and strain and bleed; most of them barefoot; and they will laugh together with satisfaction that at the end of the day they've each earned 100 rupees; about two U.S. dollars. And at night they will sleep on the ground, after cooking their dinners on an open fire at the edge of the road, beside their home: a structure made up like a tent.

The more fortunate families have a blue tarp, or at least a piece of tarp, stretched above the cardboard and corrugated metal piecemeal walls. The better families have an extra chunk of metal for the roof. Their homes sport dirt floors that will muddy thickly with rainwater more than once this month. Their bathwater comes from a stream pumped from the site's water lines and won't phase their hardened bodies in the least, even at six a.m. when the water can't be much warmer than freezing. Their babies, and children who aren't old enough to work, play with the cast-off sticks and stones (and other people's garbage).

I understand now that I have wasted so much time being ungrateful for what I DO have. No matter how uncomfortable I may ever be while traveling in the third world, the fact remains that I have the luxury of travel in the first place. The cost of my flight alone is enough to pay two workers' salaries for one full year. And, I can afford to leave anytime I want.
But dust, lack, and toil are reality here for the majority.

It was a crime against the human experience and the spirit of adventure to have slipped into my disgruntled coma.

Now, I appreciate every-little-thing I have. I am grateful every day for my life, at the basest levels. Because good times come easy and there are people suffering more than I, and I can still hear them laughing.

Just Because

My husband is an angel.
I may have mentioned this before....

Just because I feel like it; here is an account of why, exactly:

-He tells me I'm beautiful at least twenty times a day, in more than one language.
-Same-same for "I love you."
-I make the slightest whinge toward "I want..." and he's on his way to getting it before I can consider undertaking the task myself.
-More often than not, when returning from his errands, he brings me no less than five red roses, just because.
This applies to hot pink ribbon stiletto heels on ebay as well.
-I break my computer unknowingly and often via caustic downloads or some-such-thing (I've no idea how I do it really, but it happens) and he just smiles and takes my place at our office table and types or whatever it is he does and eventually *poof* it's back-to-new! There was one time in particular I literally murdered fourteen of the twenty pathetic sectors on my laptop, risking the loss of all my work, my client files, my personal writing, my photographs, my music, and everything else I've stuffed onto the hard drive. Not only did he save every last bit of data, but he upgraded all the programs I'd been neglecting over the last two years.
-For my birthday, he bought me the most fabulous pink handbag. I am a collector of handbags, and shoes, and I've never in my life known a man to select such a thing as a gift, without direction, and with such success.
-He makes all the phone calls to the lawyer, landlord, real estate agent, and delivery markets. (Considering the overwhelming task that communication in India can be at times, this is no small favor.)
-He really truly actually for real definitely prefers to be with me, as opposed to not with me. And proves it every single time I want to decline a social invitation he could just as easily attend on his own.
-I wanted a blog program...but not some ugly wordmash junk jumbling up my design. He built one for me. This one.
-I want to go shopping? He wants to go shopping.
-He washes and brushes my hair...offers to paint my nails, and wears mud mask with me.

The list is endless..but it's the way he looks at me and the softness in his voice when he tells me I'm beautiful, when he tells me he loves me, that mean the most to me.

Tagheer

My husband is a miracle of the human species...he is - essentially - an angel...but as I've mentioned before, I could not tell his difference at the start as his wings were quite folded.
And though it may not be of much interest to anyone else, this love, it's something I am inspired to write about.
He changed my life, my soul, in ways I could not have imagined.
And I will forever believe in the possibility of change in people.
There are so many; those who say that we do not change, that we cannot change...that we are forever who we were, whenever.
It is not true.
Love conquers all.

Middle America

While fishing the news for a client today I came across this story in the Baltimore Sun. (I can see now that the site hosting the article is subscrip only, so I've added the article in full at the end of the post.)

I had to wonder how much time the author, one Cal Thomas, had actually spent developing his opinion for the op/ed piece. Had he even taken the time to read anything about Islam or the Qu'ran or the true meaning of the word 'jihad'? Something that hadn't been published from a western interpretation, that hadn't been slanted by the 'war on terror' media frenzy to villify Muslims, marginalize them via news reports permeated with race/faith based fear?
I never never write to columnists...except for once when I just had to respond to an Indian writer's grand delusions on the fabulous internet technology being developed and implemented in India - I live here and I live with the technology - it's a joke, believe me.
But I was so put off by this dangerously narrow voice finding its place in the media only to replicate itself on American streets and at the water cooler the way these things tend to do, immediately after I read the article I drafted and sent my reply (first quoting the last paragraph of his article in which he questions whether Islam is a quiet weapon, just waiting to be unleashed)....


"Among the many problems with this twisted religiosity is that the West does not know how many share it. Instead, political leaders repeat the bromide that Islam is a "peaceful religion" and radicals are trying to hijack it. Are we being infiltrated by people who, on the outside, pretend to be peaceful and tolerant, but inside wish to undermine and overthrow our government?"


Islam IS a peaceful religion...if you'd taken the time to actually research your article, rather than spouting pre-formed media-induced rhetoric, then perhaps you would know that.


I'm an American expat, just converted to Islam (expat because I didn't vote for Bush/can't support the United States of Capitalism waging war for profit/am tired of the homogenous approach to the idea of the American melting pot/etc. etc. - and, converted because I chose to marry into an Iranian family and in the process found the religion to be beautiful in philosophy and practice.)


Your article had some kind of viability UNTIL this last paragraph. It's one thing to question the radicals and their sick twist on a religious philosophy, entirely another to question the religion as a whole and shuffle all Islamics off to one side as 'the other' - a dangerous-other at that.


Your statements are small-minded and transparent...it's clear you've not even opened the Qu'ran to try to glean some information about the deeper philosophy of one of the world's oldest faiths.


It is, at least partially, the fear-mongering over Islam that is allowing Bush and other western leaders to manipulate western society into believing there is a solid enemy in the war on terrorism - that the word 'jihad' refers to violent self-sacrifice and that Muslims are not to be trusted.


Your reference to frightening interpretations of Islam and the equally frightening behavior is intially aimed at one individual (Mr. al-Masri), and by association, perhaps one extremist group - extending your perception of his expression of Islam to the entire religion is a dangerous and irrational step.


We could write a similar article questioning the whole of Christianity for all the right-wing violence against non-believers that goes on in America and other parts of the world 'in the name of God.'


Educate yourself.


Tess Strand Alipour
Current Locae - Bangalore, India

-----
Infiltration by the book
By CAL THOMAS
Originally published January 18, 2006
Baltimore Sun


ARLINGTON, VA. // Beginning with the Revolutionary War when British agents and sympathizers attempted to derail independence, there have been people who have tried to infiltrate the United States for the purpose of undermining and destroying it. In modern times, communism and fascism have sent agents among us, but we discovered their plans and defeated them.
Now comes what may be the greatest threat: radical Islam, whose "agents" may have established a base more solid and more dangerous than anything we've encountered before. The good news is that they speak openly of their intentions. The bad news is that many of us are not taking them seriously.
Last week, at the beginning of the London trial of radical imam Abu Hamza al-Masri, evidence was presented detailing how he encouraged his followers at the Finsbury Park Mosque to kill non-Muslims. In lectures, recordings and writings, the imam said Adolf Hitler had been sent into the world to punish the Jews. Repeatedly, said the prosecutor, Mr. al-Masri told his followers they must fight for Allah and such fighting involves a religious mandate to murder Jews, kuffars (nonbelievers in Islam) and "apostates," such as leaders of Arab nations like Egypt.



Mr. al-Masri has pleaded not guilty to all 15 charges, including nine counts of solicitation of murder, four counts of using threatening, abusive or insulting words or behavior intended to incite racial hatred and two counts related to the possession of offensive sound recordings and books.


The talks and written materials are not only about war. Mr. al-Masri also delivers diatribes about the use of additives in food, adultery, the role of women and the "evils" of democracy.


Mr. al-Masri repeatedly defines "jihad" as an avenue for establishing a caliphate, or Islamic state, which would be governed by the most radical interpretation of Sharian religious law.


Prosecutors introduced as evidence a 10-volume "blueprint for terrorism" they say was discovered in Mr. al-Masri's house. Among the targets for "causing disturbance but not loss of life" are Big Ben, the Eiffel Tower and the Statue of Liberty. Chapter headings include "The need to study the principles of war" and "The duty of assassination and kidnap." Other subheadings offer advice on reconnaissance, infiltration and ambush and how to manufacture explosive devices, open locks and train assassins. One section details plans to hit buildings with large populations, including museums, ports and archaeological sites.


David Perry, prosecuting counsel, said the document's "execution section" recommends that Islamic agents be sent to any country intended as a target at least 10 years before jihad begins. This was the profile of terrorists depicted in last season's 24 series on Fox. In this fictional story, terrorist cells were established in a middle-class American neighborhood where they remained dormant and appeared peaceful until a signal was given to conduct mayhem.


On one tape, Mr. al-Masri discusses the killing of tourists in Egypt in November 1997, describing them as satanic. He says the tourist industry should be "Islamicised" and added that while children should not be deliberately killed, their killing is permitted if they are in the target area. Suicide bombings are "martyrdom," he says. They are permitted "if the only way to hurt the enemies of Islam is by taking your own life."


Among the many problems with this twisted religiosity is that the West does not know how many share it. Instead, political leaders repeat the bromide that Islam is a "peaceful religion" and radicals are trying to hijack it. Are we being infiltrated by people who, on the outside, pretend to be peaceful and tolerant, but inside wish to undermine and overthrow our government?
(article copyright Baltimore Sun 2006)

Waiting and Then Some

Current Locae - Bangalore, India

In India everything works on a clock much more confounded than in any other country I've ever been.
Sure, when it's five o'clock, it's five o'clock...but when you're told that whatever-you-ordered (food, taxi, books, water, internet...) is meant to arrive or be available at said five o'clock hour that doesn't necessarily mean you'll have anything in-hand at five o'clock or even today's five 'o'clock for that matter.
It might come tomorrow, it might come next month.
It's up to you to guess just when it might come though, because if you're not home when they do decide to show up it's another waiting game all over again. And if it's raining, which happens more often than not during the three to six months that we call 'monsoon season' here, rather than 'spring' and 'fall' well then, don't expect to get much of anything done because the current cuts on a sporadic basis and with no warning at all.
Actually, that's true when it's sunny too...

This is good to keep in mind as a foreigner living and traveling in India - it's also an excellent exercise in patience...something most of us from the west can stand a bit more of, I think.
I've become much more Zen toward just about everything out of sheer necessity.
It's often incredibly annoying, but some kind of comforting...this way of life - coming to the realization that there is absolutely nothing more important in the world than what's right in front of you, wherever you are, at any moment...namely: love.

There are days when we don't have internet or hot water and the grey-heavy skies rumble and pour rivers into the roads outside and all I can say is, 'Oh well...what to do?'
And so we stay in bed in our pajamas and laugh and watch DVD's and drink tea and listen to music and watch AliG ripped from our favourite copyright infringement portal and smoke too many cigarettes and have watermelon fights and just TALK to eachother - and at the end of the day are quite pleased with ourselves for not being caught up in the mad rush to get things done that is going on every second of twenty-four hours in the rest of the world.
It's a gift, really, this space we occupy here...however inconvenient it is at times (we waited two months for an internet connection order that was promised within an eight day time frame, and there are more and more days I find myself boiling water so I don't have to freeze in the shower, the taxi that we ordered to take us to our marriage licensing appointment arrived an hour late...) but it's a gift.

Most people, if they want to live this way (actually BEING together in marriage) have got to be trust-funded or sixty-five and retired. Now, its a strange trade-off, living in a place like India in order to find that opportunity...but well worth it in my estimation.
It's not as if we have a choice anyway - American immigration law says we've to apply for my love's visa from the same country in which we were married.
Iran is not an option as they don't have a US consulate; and as excited as I am to go there it's hard to imagine spending more than three months in a country where I've to cover my hair every time I leave the house just because I'm a girl.

So, India is home, for now, for better or for worse, with or without hot water...or electricity...

Either way, I've always got exactly what I need right here in front of me.

Thank God.

Khodam

I would burn to ash with a smile,
accepting hell as my home
should the choice be made,
for the sea will be only too happy to acquire my tears,
and would grow much too deep for swimming should I live there without you...

Hamid

I wish I was as good with a pencil as I am with a keyboard…I long to draw your face.
The gorgeous perfection of eyes that house the deepest soul.
Your face, for me, is a map – of my life, and of love…the design of my son…of my daughter…of our future. It sketches days gone by and years to come with the smile you offer even in your sleep.
But how can I hope to trace your kiss to paper, the way your lips trace mine in the darkness?
How can I ever pin to the page the beauty of what I see when I watch you sleep, or laugh?
There is no art to capture the sweetness that surrounds you and your heavenly body.
And so, I write…but even these words defy me.
Attempting to define you, I type…backspace…delete…

I Heart America

Current locae - Bangalore India

I've always said, and I'll say it again: 'I was blessed to have been born in such a wretched country.' To have had access to the best of everything; the best education, the best nutrition, the best health care, the best...it's hard for me to come up with the list...the best what....shoes? The best hair products, for sure...(I know that now without a doubt after living abroad for the last few years)...the best source of cash...is what it comes down to.
How does one reconcile reaping the benefits of being the national of a country that garners said benefits from the literal blood, oil, sweat, and tears of countries who simply have a lesser military?

Sure, sure, for over two hundred years America has worked itself to the bone to build this 'great nation under God...' nevermind that it did so on the backs of imported slave-laborers and in the process swept aside an entire group of Native American nations who lived there in the first place.

But going that far back into history leaves me exhausted, and sad; and a very wise professor once suggested during more than one classroom session that we cannot judge those who wrote the history of the past on their actions simply because we have no idea what shoes they walked in, and cannot relate to their own socially constructed view of the world and its human and environmental contents. OK, those are my words and not his, exactly...but that was the message I got. I felt at the time that it was a sort-of 'letting them off the hook' - the 'them' being basically anyone who lived in the historical past and is attached by word and deed to the horrors of our American history. I still feel that way, but I get his point. The peoples of two hundred years ago didn't have access to information the way we do now. They had a very limited understanding of the world, the human body, and of the relationships their governments were forging (or forcing). You average everyday family had more to worry about just getting their harvest prepared and stored so they could survive a winter and they didn't have the leisure of multitudes of books by multitudes of voices, much less the time to learn to read them...there was no Gap offering appropriate seasonal clothes (though I hardly see how ANYthing out of the Gap is appropriate, unless one is in need of a uniform...) and there was no QFC at which to acquire produce, canned goods, paper towels, and ready-made sashimi rolls with fresh wasabi and those gorgeous little red foil packets of Kikkoman. There was no benefit of readily and mass-disseminated information, as there is today. It's not so simple to just say 'They didn't know any better.' But, it's something like that - at least, compared to where we stand today.

The question I am left with in all of this is: then how will those who see US as the historical 'them' look upon us and our actions? Will they be so quick to let us off the hook of responsibility? Will they be able to analyze our social structures, our media, our norms and perceptions and say, 'Oh, well....forgive them for they knew not what they did...'? From where I sit, I think not.

With all the technology we have, with all the information coming in to us from all angles, all perspectives, surely there is some bit of truth to be gleaned...surely we really DO know what's going on 'out there' - not to mention what's going on inside our own country, but that's another post entirely. Surely, we all realize that Bush wasn't actually voted into the presidency. Surely, we all realize at THIS point that there are no weapons of mass destruction to be found in Iraq...and never were. Surely, we can see the reaching grasping hand of greed in the form of multinational corporations with that reach ripping out the pockets of our politicians as they finger-puppet them in front of the television cameras.

They say history repeats itself...and it seems to be true. America is a (British!) nation built on the notion of manifest destiny and the process of colonization. What the United States is doing in Iraq and has done in Vietnam, Kuwait, countries in Africa, and God-knows-where-else is no different.
While the United States pretends on one hand to be waging a war on terrorism, and on the other to be granting the gift of democracy to countries like Iraq...and on the other to be protecting the nation-at-home (because we all know this government is an eight-armed monster of some sort...and not a human entity at all) Americans nicely buy recycled products and shop at Whole Foods for organic and free-range whatnots (yes, I agree its a fabulous place....but that isn't the point at all) and feel better about the whole-thing, when the WHOLE thing is that the president ISN'T the president the people voted for and this war isn't about ANYTHING 'they' told us it was about (not that you could convince me of a good reason for dive bombing family infested mud-brick neighborhoods ANYwhere for ANY reason.)

In a hundred, two hundred years...our future (if there is one) will look back at us and there won't BE any 'them' anymore - all of us (Americans) will be viewed as one big selfish wasteful war mongering society - because who can tell the difference when those of us who voted for the president are just as quiet and satiated by our instant-gratification lifestyles as those of us who didn't?
And those who aren't so satiated? Those who go to bed hungry at night? They might complain...if they had the time - but just like their ancestors two hundred years ago, they're still worried about basic survival.

But, I heart America.

I heart America because I'm female, educated, and free to do and say basically what I want, where, and when I want - which, as I've seen in my global travels is not a basic right of women-in-general. Oh, and I'm white, which as we all know makes my life a hell of a lot easier. I'm lucky and I know it. And I'm grateful. But, it was a natural accident that all of these gifts should have been bestowed on me. It was a complete fluke that I wasn't born in a country where I wouldn't even have the right to complain out loud, much less on published paper, about the sorry state of affairs in my country of origin - but thank God that I was...because I can't imagine having my eyes THIS wide open, with this much voice to give to what I see and having to keep my mouth shut.

XO from India.

Original design of thesuperheavy

My Vote

In Al-Jazeera today is an article that chills me to the bone - A detailed plan of attack on Iran for 2006 (Happy New Year, huh?)

If the issue is Iran developing nuclear weapons - well then, what an utterly blatant hypocrisy!

The United States has been building nuclear weapons for decades, without apology to the rest of the world.
Is the American government more entitled to weapons of mass destruction than the rest of the world, the Middle East in particular?

What is it about a Muslim nation holding it's own that so intimidates us?
Don't offer me the anti-terrorism argument, because I won't buy it.

The United States has waged it's own veiled terrorist attacks on the Middle East and other countries since its birth - and the Universe is balanced - so none of us should be suprised by the rampant hatred for America, and manifestation of that anger in violence.
And after watching what US forces have done to Iraq, is Iran really so out of line in exploring a system of protection from the same kind of abuse?

Islam is a religion of peace, as is virtually every other religion on the planet.
The lowest common denominator of any major religion is love. It is the political and economic agendas of the few that skews the reality of these philosophies and twists the words of believers everywhere into a war cry.
When are we going to stop accepting these decisions, made to protect and fund the bank accounts of a few corporations; decisions that suffer and murder the innocent on both sides?

Last time I checked America was a democracy...but who's voting the yes-or-no of this war, or the next? No one asked me to clip a chad with my opinion.

Well, consider this my vote -
N.O.

I vote NO on further deaths, American, Iraqi, Persian or otherwise. I vote NO on making excuses to wage war out of fear of the understandable progress of smaller nations. I vote NO on expanding the American dream outside the borders of America. I vote NO on families-accidentally-in-the-line-of-fire. I vote NO on using Israel, America's little-darling, as the arms with which to launch American bombs.

I vote NO.
Period.
But no one's counting.

Doll Clothes Logo

Hero Surfboards Logo

B Royal Productions Logo

Hollywood Glam Advertisement