As my children entered their teens, I noticed that they and their friends were expressing Islam in a manner that was quite different from their parents. A rather sensible version.Read More
Ramadan is over and yesterday we all celebrated Eid ul Fitr. But for many, Eid was bittersweet.Read More
My earliest memories of Ramadan are in Pakistan. A child of seven, I would plead with my parents, ‘please, please, can I fast?’ It seemed exciting, such a grown-up thing to do. Mummy let me fast for half a day when I turned 10, but just for a day.Read More
It’s the prophets birthdays! Prophet Jesus yes, (peace be upon him) but also the prophet who followed 600 years later. That’s right. Yesterday it was Prophet Muhammad’s 1,446th birthday (peace be upon him). It isn’t always like that i.e. Muslims and Christians are celebrating the prophets’ birthdays in December. You know why?Read More
Everything. As in gender, stature, respect or lack of it, marital status, lineage, religion, even anonymity.
My grandmother never called my grandfather by his name. When she tried to get his attention, she would call out in Punjabi ‘mein kaya gee’. Translated—and it’s a terrible translation—‘I have something to say.’ The tone conveyed respect. Why the formality?Read More
The moment you had been waiting for is almost here. In two weeks, my book is being published. I will rejoice, celebrate with family and friends, and display it upright on my shelf, beaming as everyone compliments the gorgeous book cover. And I will nurse my regrets in silence. If only! If only I had done this years ago! If only I could see you hold it in your hands,
I must have laughed the hardest as Wajahat Ali made InshAllah jokes at the MUBANY gala (Muslim Bar Association of NY) last week, and I exhaled decades of pent-up exasperation. If you were there, I was the woman at the front table, laughing long after everyone else had stopped, causing heads to turn. Sadly, it wasn’t my looks.
Before I explain, let me first apologize.
Mummy never left me;
She smiles at me through the framed photo on my shelf;
She watches me through my grandson Omar’s oval eyes;
I feel her hair when my granddaughter Asha brushes against my cheek;