Posted on by Zarine Mohideen

Hello fall!

The weather has been pretty chilly here in the Bay Area. I say pretty chilly ’cause I’m only just getting used to the climate here. As much as I like the chunky knits and warm hugs that fall brings, I’m not a fan of the cold nose and freezing toes. The Madras Girl in me hopes that it doesn’t get colder than this. I can handle the blazing Madras summer heat waves. What I can’t handle is the five degrees at night and walking out without a proper jacket.

20121025-111150.jpg

Fallen leaves.

20121025-111202.jpg

Men’s shirts from J.Crew – the best shirt for this weather.

20121025-111229.jpg

Prettiness outside my house.

20121025-111239.jpg

Fluffy clouds on a beautiful, rainy day.

20121025-111306.jpg

Rustling fallen leaves.

Posted on by Zarine Mohideen

The smallest things make me happy these days. The sun came out today and I was happy. It’s been so long since I felt the sun on my face or even broke in to a sweat, for that matter. I guess that’s what living in Chennai makes you miss. So once the sun was out I decided to go for a pseudo run. So I ran. On the wrong side of the road, I think. And almost bumped in to one uncle who laughed it off. Crossed the road and had one Aunty say “Yes! You made it”. It felt good to have some one cheer me on like that. I’m thinking of hiring a cheerleader to cheer me on when I feel down. Oooh maybe I should just hire an entire squad! I should put that in my list.

So on my run today I crossed a gallery where an artist painted on the walls along the streets. I saw this little gem and my heart skipped a beat. It felt like someone had taken that thread of thought that’s been running through my mind lately and decided to plaster it on the walls. I could feel a little smile creeping up and the sun just shined brighter today.

 

 

20121017-164348.jpg

Posted on by Zarine Mohideen · 4 Comments

23

I turned 23 a few days ago. I managed to have a pretty good birthday in the middle of all the travelling and moving. I also had a fabulous Godiva chocolate cheesecake that was probably the highlight of my life. It’s been four days since I’ve had it and I’m experiencing withdrawal symptoms now.

I don’t want to admit it but Alhamdulillah, I’m honestly enjoying this time. After the stress of the wedding I’m enjoying spending time by myself (okay, and Jay when he is around) eating, sleeping and watching too much of the Kardashians.

Every year my birthday came around I used to get apprehensive and felt like nothing would satisfy me. But this year I didn’t feel any of those things. Maybe it was because I was busy but for the first time in a very long time I felt good about myself and that to me makes this birthday pretty awesome.

Happy birthday, Zarine, you fabulous person you!

 

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

Craving

20120807-221307.jpg
Corn Cheese Toast, Ajnabi Mithai Ghar, Chennai

I don’t know if it is the fasting or the hormones but this corn cheese toast is all I would like to eat. But since D – Day is in T minus three weeks it’s better that I impose a lot of self control.

Posted on by Zarine Mohideen

Crazy.

“Girl molested by army jawans in Assam.”

“6 year old girl found hanging in Noida.”

“Husband forced wife to drink urine.”

“Pak man arrested for burrying baby girl alive.”

“Two baby girls abandoned in Rajasthan, one of them left on railway tracks dies.”

Reading the paper on a Sunday is not as relaxing as one deems it to be. The newspaper is like a Sunday horror marathon, one gut wrenching story after another. It is hard to be cheerful or go one with your day after seeing headlines such as these.

Burying baby girls alive, abandoning children in railway tracks, it feels like we are living in the stone ages. Instead of moving ahead in society and leaving behind the terrible practices we seem to be taking many steps backwards. It honestly pains me to see that there are people who willingly kill their children for the big “mistake” of being born as girls. It doesn’t matter how much we’re educated, or how much money we have, it really doesn’t matter how much “awareness” we spread on issues like this. There will always be a certain sect of crazy that will not die down no matter how much we try.

Preventing situations like this is futile. The only part we can concentrate on is the cure. The proverb “Prevention is better than cure” does not apply to this context because it simply does not work. It doesn’t matter if we are the most forward thinking of induviduals with the the best of intentions in our hearts we cannot change a twisted mind.

Stories of girls being molested are printed everyday. These are just the lucky few girls who get to tell their story. But what they get in return is just some pity and perhaps two, three comments on how it was the girls fault for “encouraging” the molestor. Yes, girls wear stickers across their chests saying “I’m open for business so please feel free to rape me”. If revealing/western clothes seems to be the problem then what about the girls who wear Indian clothes and salwars. They get raped too. But the clothes aren’t the focus here. Isn’t the saree, the quintessential Indian garment previously considered the most modest form of clothing, now one among the most “sexy” clothes a woman can wear?

It is impossible to straighten a twisted mind. Burying alive your own child requires a kind of strength that I hope many of us don’t have. Molesting girls because they “encouraged” you is not an excuse. And making your wife drink urine? How absolutely sick in the head must you be to do something like that. This man was a dentist and what role did his education play here?

Abandoning girl babies in dustbins is the most common news item that appears in the paper. I read at least one such news item every week. It has become such casual news that they move these stories from page one to page four these days.

I don’t believe things like this will ever stop. Crazy is so well woven in to society that it is difficult to break the thread. Nothing is impossible, they say. Maybe here’s something that is.

Posted on by Zarine Mohideen
For a long while now I’ve been wanting to write. There were so many emotions, so many words that did not escape my mouth but the constant blinking of the cursor on white screen did not offer me the kind of solace a pen and paper did. 
Posted on by Zarine Mohideen

It’s time…

I have always been a Blogger fan girl. It is where I started my first blog and from there on I got to read hundreds of wonderful blogs. WordPress always seemed like the opposite of Blogger, something I would never do. It looked awfully plain and morose, in my eyes. Blogger was the fun, younger sibling.

The past few months I’ve experienced a writer’s block like no other. Ideas slipped out of mind, I could not form one sensible sentence and all my best ideas came to me while I was sleeping. Like, in my dream I’d think of something and be all “Homaigod, best idea ever”. I would tell myself to remember it and by the time I woke up, the idea would be, but a dream. I struggled with this for a quite a while and eventually just gave up.

Lately I’ve also been reading new blogs just to gather inspiration. I was feeling very insipid and needed a change very badly. I needed newer grounds to conquer, cleaner pastures. Basically, I just wanted to get to the other side, where, I heard the grass always seemed greener. Considering how I am on the cusp of new things and new opportunities are seeking me I thought it was time to document that in a newer place. That is how this WordPress site was born.

I chose the name ‘Maybe In Madras’ because Madras is my baby, my city of love. I hate to refer to it as Chennai, although that is the correct Tamil name. But Madras reminds me of beauty, of old world charms and of dreams that found it’s way in to the heart of the city. Madras inspired me to dream. She also reminded me to never stop. So here is to the city that molded me in to the person I am.

“Life happens in a certain place for a certain time. But there is a great surplus left over, and where will we stow it but in out dreams.”

– Solo, by Rana Dasgupta

Posted on by Zarine Mohideen

"The Swan" (1956)

“Your father used to call you his swan, so I am told. I think that’s a good thing to remember. Think what it means to be a swan. To glide like a dream on the smooth surface of the lake, and never go to the shore. On dry land, where ordinary people walk, the swan is awkward, even ridiculous. When she waddles up the bank she painfully resembles a different kind of bird, n’est-ce-pas?
… And there she must stay, out on the lake; silent, white, majestic. Be a bird, but never fly; know one song, but never sing it until the moment of death. And so it must be for you, Alexandra. Cool indifference to the standing crowds along the bank. And the song? Never.”
– “The Swan” (1956)
source