Posted on by Zarine Mohideen

BIRIYANI. Now do I have your attention?

Eid. Always synonymous with biriyani, to me, Eid equals new dress. It doesn’t matter if I get a new dress every single day of the year, the Eid dress is the most important and should kick all other dress’ ass. This year I found the perfect dress. But then again, I intend on finding the perfect dress every year.So all the duties on Eid have been done; wear new dress – check, go for Eid prayer – check, collect Eidi from unsuspecting adults – check, get shouted at by mother for not helping – check, stuff face with biriyani – check, distribute biriyani to friends like an MLA collecting votes – check.

Once all the duties have been done, regular programming resumes. It doesn’t matter that we fasted for thirty days and controlled our nafs (desires) ’cause the next day our body wants three meals a day plus snacks. It doesn’t take a genius to realize that a good portion of Ramadan revolves around food. Either making, eating or distributing food. Ramadan teaches you to respect food and not sneer at it if it is something you dislike. It teaches you to make do with what is available when you wake up late for suhoor. The Prophet Mohammed (peace be upon him) taught us to never say anything bad about the food even if you don’t like it. Waking up late for suhoor to eat the leftovers is a very humbling experience. It makes you think of all those who do not have a morsel to eat and have to keep suhoor with just a date or a sip of water whilst we waste plates of food. So the next time you fuss about how you don’t like a single dish on the table just spare a thought for those whom even three meals a day is a luxury.

We need to remember that every single blessing that we have could be taken away from us at any second. In school we sang a hymn ‘Count your blessings name them one by one’ but I realize that it is impossible to  list out the blessings. We just need to be extremely thankful for everything. You and me, we are very lucky people. We don’t have to think about where the next meal comes from or worry that we have people depending on us. Thanks to one of the greatest mercies God has given us, we live in a reasonably safe place where we don’t have to be scared about bombs being dropped on us. We don’t have to worry about shelter or a plaguing disease. We don’t have to fear poverty and deprivation. Considering that we have it easy, that we have none of these battles to fight, we should be the most thankful people.

Although the little devil inside us is unleashed now I hope we don’t go back to our old ways but that we take away some lesson, no matter how small, from this Ramadan. This Eid let us be thankful for our education, for our wonderful families and amazing friends, for food and peace. Let us be thankful for our lives and for the opportunity to mold it in to a beautiful one.

Eid Mubarak.

Posted on by Zarine Mohideen · 1 Comment

Demons.

Everybody has demons. Demons that destroy you. Demons that haunt you every step of the way. Demons that rip you on your insides but leave a perfect exterior. You can run but you can never hide, the shadows will find you. You can fight but it will never be over, for the scar is permanent. Sometimes you think you’re above it and you’ve learnt to come to terms with it. It won’t take you much longer to realize that if you do say that, you are lying to yourself. You are lying when you say that you’re okay. You are lying when you say it doesn’t hurt anymore. Because the scar has been cast not on your body, not physically, but on You. You know you want to fight it. It doesn’t deserve your time. Stop thinking and start living. You want to. But there is a reminder right in front of you. A yellow Post It note describing everything you’ve ever wanted to escape from. Tear it. Make it go away. But it’s like a boomerang that keeps coming back. You don’t want it to take control of your life anymore. You want to be unburdened. But it’s hard. Some days you wake up thinking all is right with the world. Other days you go to bed crying, praying for some kind of balance in your life. Why does the thought make your skin crawl? You want to rip your skin apart. It is on fire. Burning. You are burning. The rage is unstoppable. The terror is gone but you are still frightened. Stop letting it control your life. You know you want it to stop. But the mind does not easily forget. And you don’t want to think about it but you go back. Such a bad place to be. You cry and pray for normalcy. For the scar to heal. For sanity. For lightness. To be untouched by the demons. You open your eyes and realize you’ve only told yourself what you want to hear.
Posted on by Zarine Mohideen

“Peter Walsh got up and crossed to the window and stood with his back to her, flicking a bandanna handkerchief from side to side. Masterly and dry and desolate he looked, his thin shoulder-blades lifting his coat slightly; blowing his nose violently. Take me with you, Clarissa thought impulsively, as if he were starting directly upon some great voyage; and the,\ next moment, it was as if the five acts of a play that had been very exciting and moving were now over and she had  lived a lifetime in them and had run away, had lived with Peter, and it was now over.”

– Mrs. Dalloway, Virginia Woolf

Posted on by Zarine Mohideen · 2 Comments
An open wound. Bare skin. Unzipped. 
Why is it so difficult to give yourself permission to feel. To feel without being betrayed, to feel without a doubt.  Why are we holding back? Why can’t we just say exactly what we want to and move on? Why do I have to think before I talk?
So may times in life we come across situations that begs us to feel, makes our hearts beat faster. But we’re scared, so scared. Of feeling. It doesn’t matter anymore if it is right or wrong but you have to feel it in your heart. But we are scared of being exposed. We don’t want to be taken for granted. But what guarantee is there that we will be? What guarantee is there that we wont? That’s when you take a blind leap of faith. Blind, but your heart is open. Blind, but you’ve never seen clearer than right now, than this moment that takes your breath away.
Posted on by Zarine Mohideen · 2 Comments

I love me some nom nom.

“Let us be grateful to the people who make us happy; they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom.”
– Marcel Proust

Today started off as a pretty ordinary Saturday. Some days you wake up and you just know that the day is going to be fabulous, darling and some days you wake up knowing how utterly craptastic it is going to be. I woke up this morning with a pain in my rear and a head ache I knew was fast approaching. But thanks to the small things in life, today turned out to be quite okay. You know your lucky when a friend tells you how happy she is for you, “I feel so happy for you. I feel like Maggi. You know like how Maggi is so little and you put it in water and it becomes big? I feel like that!”. See her equating emotions with food? That’s a girl who will never let you down.
Today was also good because I found the cookie I’ve been searching my whole life for – Danish Butter Cookies. The cookie that defined my life and left me high and dry. The cookie that made a small appearance but left me wanting for more. I have been searching for this blue box for years, asking every relative who travelled to get me a box of these bad boys, but in vain. Today The Mother got them for me. You know it’s love when she gets you two big boxes of the cookies that no one else in the house eats. The cookies taste the same as I remember them to be although with a little less butter. Come on Danish Butter Cookie people! How can you hold back on the main ingredient; the title of your fat ridden cookies? Please remember that butter is ALWAYS good.
Now the cookie box resides next to me on my bedside. I feel like an old lady who has a box of lemon drops, handing them out to everyone. Except of course I will share my cookies only if I really like you.
So today I am thankful for the small mercies. The small things that happen that make life easier; and the people with big hearts who make life that much more fun.
Posted on by Zarine Mohideen · 2 Comments

Summer Wind

If there is one thing Madras totally owns, it’s summer. Complain all you want about the heat, sweat and power cuts but you know that Madras is in her best during this season. Summer is for lazy afternoons spent watching movies on Sun TV. It’s when fruit sellers spring up in every street corner selling luscious mangoes and gorgeous watermelons. Summer is when you can see the trees proudly displaying their flowers. Thank God for the old Madras corporation/people who have planted bouganvillas and flame of the forest on every street.
I become very nostalgic during summer. The best parts of my childhood were spent making the most of what little I had and now that I’m all “grown up” I feel that longing for a simpler time when I didn’t have to think about the future and take life changing decisions. All I thought about was when the elani man will come and if there is enough porri urundai to share with my friends.
I know this is all a part of growing up but I just want to stop for minute and take a breather. It’s hard to accept that the most carefree days of our lives are over. Only a few weeks in to this blazing season and already my stress levels are haywire. 
In the midst of all the craziness that surrounds me I just want to give a big non-physical hug to a very beautiful, very special girl who means the world to me. All I want to tell you is to keep the faith and just soldier on. There are so many wonderful things ahead of you once you get past all the darkness. I want you to know that there is a light at the end of the tunnel and its the brightest, most blindingly awesome light that you’ve ever seen. Just know that I love you irrespective of how many people you are. You are the kindest, smartest person I know. Big things are going to happen in your life. I just know it. You are the kind of person that deserves all the good that comes their way. Just know that I love you and I will forever be your bum chum.
I know how depressed you are so I’m sending some sunshine your way. Remember, the sky is not the limit. 
Posted on by Zarine Mohideen · 8 Comments

Scar.

A couple of days back I woke up to read a disturbing article in the newspaper. A 19 year old sales girl from Chennai was gang raped by boys who were her “friends”. One of the boys, her classmate from school, had asked her to accompany him to visit another friend of theirs who had apparently taken ill. This unsuspecting girl went with the boy to the friends house only to realize that the boy wasn’t ill and was in the company of four other boys. They offered the girl a drink and after a few sips she realized that something was wrong with it. They forced her in to drinking and when she became unconscious the boys repeatedly raped her. By the time she regained consciousness they dropped her off at her house. The next day the girl was suffering from extensive bleeding and was taken to a Government hospital. The doctors informed her mother that it was a clear case of rape and asked her to file a complaint with the police.
On February 9th three cases of rape took place at the same night in Delhi. In the first incident, a 13 year old girl  was abducted and raped by a 30 year old man because she did not accept his Facebook request. In the second incident a 17 year old girl was kidnapped and was sexually abused in car while continuously roaming the streets  The accused was  a relative of hers. In the third case a 17 year old girl was walking back home from work with her friends was forced in to a car and kidnapped. Her friends who tried to fend off the kidnappers were assaulted. This girl is yet to be traced.
In Delhi, a constable was arrested for molesting an under age girl in a slum area. In Kolkatta a man was mercilessly beaten to death for a lodging a compliant againt some men who were sending obscene MMSes to his college-going daughter.
All these events took place this month. It makes me wonder if India is really a safe place for women. None of these girls asked to be raped. They were from working class backgrounds trying to find some means to an end.
I feel that men do not understand the extent of their actions. Most of these assaults are done just for momentary pleasure or it is seen as a way to take revenge on the girl. Sexual abuse is prevalent everywhere. I’m sure that almost every girl has experienced abuse/molestation of some kind. I’m talking of the smallest cases of molestation, a sneaky hand in a crowded area, an intended brush across the body. Sometimes abuse takes place at home, by someone who is in the family. The trauma that a victim of sexual abuse goes through is indescribable. It may be just a moment to experience pleasure for men but for the victim the after effects of this carries on through out her life, more often than not ruining future relationships.
Take for instance the girl from Chennai, she has been through so much mentally. It would be no surprise if in the future she does not trust any man. She may become skeptical of every person she meets and every relationship she has.
What are we doing to protect  India’s women? On one side we are advocating for the girl child. Educating people to not kill their daughters. On the other side there is rape and molestation at every corner. If this is how the country is going to be then the murdered daughters of India are better off in their graves.
As a country we seem to have lost our morals somewhere down the line. We have forgotten to care for whats right. We seem to have such a ‘take it in your stride’ attitude about everything. If the girl is raped or molested the blame game begins and all fingers are pointed towards the victim for “tempting” the man. I do not disagree that man is wired differently but because of this reason it his responsibility to keep himself in  check. There are stories of men molesting small children and pre-adolescent kids. “Temptation” does not play its part here. Abusing children is probably the most cowardly, most despicable and demeaning act there is.
It irks me to see that we aren’t taking issues like these seriously. But if a minister is caught watching porn in the assembly then that becomes front page news and every news channel worth its salt replays the video for days. Schools and colleges need to educate their students on these lines. They need to create awareness starting from the lower classes. The earlier children know about these things the easier it would be for them to understand how wrong it is when someone misbehaves with them. Schools need to have counselors who can help them in understanding what is wrong and whats right. As a society we are still shy to talk about this subject. We want to push it under the carpet and act like it doesn’t happen. But we need to open our eyes and accept reality. We need to be broad minded enough to not blame it on the victims. Parents need to explain this to their children.
As much as we want it to be, the world is not a happy, shiny place. It is dark, scary and like it or not we are vulnerable creatures.
These two issues are really close to my hear and it pains me to read news stories like this almost every day. I cannot imagine the angst the victim goes through. There can be no compensation for going through such a tough ordeal. Money cannot make the scars go away. Rehab and counselling can only do that much. Beyond that it is entirely up to the strength the person has to block the images, grit their teeth and move on acting like life is a happy place when at the bottom of their heart they know that things can never be the same again.
Posted on by Zarine Mohideen · 3 Comments

Happy Burdayy You

It’s the anniversary of the blog today. It’s been three years since I started this. I should have come far. I should have written more. But for reasons I cannot fathom I haven’t come as far as I wanted to. The past year has been pretty disappointing. I was stuck in a rut and refused to budge. But everyday I am easing myself out of it bit by bit. Who knows, this year might be the year that I have many stories to tell. Actually, I always have stories to tell but words really evade me at times. This time I promise to try harder, to be better.
I celebrated the by eating cupcakes a couple of days before. I can never turn down dessert. Especially small, sinfully chocolaty, creamy cakes. The Cupcake Company has opened shop in Anna Nagar. I suggest you try it out.
Posted on by Zarine Mohideen · 1 Comment

Belief

A few days back I was having a philosophical discussions with one of my friends. Somewhere in the midst of talking about love and faith she turned her big bushy head to me and asked, “Why do you believe in God?”. That moment I felt like I had slammed into a wall. Why did I believe in God? I did not have an answer at hand. I just stuttered, stammered and came up with a reason why, a reason that I just can’t seem to recollect right now. But today while saying my prayers I realized why I actually did believe in God.
As a child I followed the faith of my parents. I did what they did. I believed in what they believed. I never questioned anything. I believed in God because my parents told me to. I did not want to get all rebellious and say no. It just wasn’t worth the trouble. But as I grew up, from a pimply adolescent to an even more pimply teenager, life handed me a few important lessons. Lessons that were more important than Maths and Science. My future depended on how well I learnt these lessons. I was never a bright student in school and in life. Hence, I had to redo a few lessons in both.
I’m not here to judge those who don’t believe in God. I have no way of telling what is in peoples hearts. I cannot judge a persons belief. I just want to tell you the reason why I believe. I believe that faith is the very foundation of our being. Sometime we have implicit faith on people only to be let down in the most cruelest of ways. Trusting and having faith in someone means that you are willing to let go of your anchor and depend and trust that person so much that every fiber of your being believes in them. Having faith is like moving away from your comfort zone and showing them your most vulnerable side.
Many times in life we feel let down and cheated by the people we love the most. We, as humans very easily become unfaithful. We lose faith in things easily. If life don’t go according to our plan we lose faith.I’m a person who trusts people easily and in my life I’ve had incidents where I could not count on anyone be it friends or family.  At my most darkest days, when I hit rock bottom, the small iota of belief that I had in God is what made me the person I am today. Today I feel wiser because of all the tests that God has put me through. And I know that the important decision that I will make for the future will be inspired from the lessons I learned in the past.
It is very easy to not believe. It is very, very easy to turn a blind eye to all the signs that show the presence of a greater force. You don’t have to look for scientific proof or read ancient scriptures. All you’ve got to do is just look deeper into your life, your past and you will find something that you overlooked.
“Belief is a beautiful armor

But makes for the heaviest sword

Like punching under water
You never can hit who you’re trying for

Some need the exhibition

And some have to know they tried

It’s the chemical weapon

For the war that’s raging on inside”



– John Mayer, “Belief”
Posted on by Zarine Mohideen · 3 Comments

Summer.

Summer is almost over. The days of sweltering heat are broken up by sudden bursts of rain. Is it the monsoon? Or the winds receding from the north? I don’t know. I never paid much attention in Geography class. In fact, I never liked Geography.
I miss summer vacations. Yes, it is summer now and I am on a vacation (a perpetual one if I so desire). But it is no match for the summer vacations I had in school. Summer meant two months of lying around and doing nothing. When I was in school we never vacationed anywhere fancy for the summer. It was always Tirunelveli for a week every year. The fanciest place I went was Ooty and Kodaikanal. But the rest of the holidays were spent watching an unhealthy amount of television and eating copious amounts of food.
I did attend the ubiquitous ‘summer classes’. I dabbled my hand in painting for a while and never returned to the paint brush after that. I went for swimming classes three summers in a row. Considering that I was in the water most of the time I couldn’t wear my glasses so I did not exactly make a lot of friends. I was more preoccupied with squinting my way through the water and making sure I didn’t bang my head in to somebody else’s.
My mother could never stand the sight of me lazing around the house. So, after swimming it was tennis for the next few years. Tennis involved a lot of wearing short skirts and running around. I loved it. My dad, not so much. And since I got to keep my glasses on, I made a few friends and met one of the weirdest girls I’ve ever seen in my life. 
All these semi-exciting summer vacations gradually came to an end thanks to tenth standard and the attack of the Public Exams. And from then on, summer vacations were filled with preparing for the twelfth standard Board Exams. Although I did visit a few countries in between, they were never a match for the summers of my childhood. 
During college, summers meant studying for semesters that were scheduled on days when the school kids had their vacations. So I had to study amidst screaming neighbor kids and had to withstand the temptation to watch the ‘summer blockbusters’ on Sun TV.
Although I love summer, I am a winter girl at heart. My mother says this is because I was born during one of the rainiest Octobers. Every summer my body reacts to the heat in disturbing ways. Two years back my face was entirely covered with heat boils. Nothing I did or ate or applied on my face made it go away. But once the heat reduced so did the boils. Thank God they left no scars. This year, the heat boils have spread to my scalp and neck and other weird parts of my body. But this is the effect of eating an obscene amount of mangoes.
And thanks to the daily power cuts, I don’t think I will be missing this summer all that much. As much as I love summer I hate the sweat and the heat and the permanently sticky skin. 
I am so glad I don’t have to travel two hours every day in a bus full of heat and dust anymore. Four years of that was more than enough.
If you are stuck in traffic at this time of the year because of ‘Metro Rail/Mono Rail’ work (last year it was bridge work) my condolences to you.