Museful Reminiscence

Gaza Freedom Flotilla Killings: FACT CHECK (Dispelling Myths as Israeli PR Moves into Full Swing) | MuslimMatters.org

2010-06-01T21:12:00.000Z

Gaza Freedom Flotilla Killings: FACT CHECK (Dispelling Myths as Israeli PR Moves into Full Swing) | MuslimMatters.org

Dispatches on Channel 4 - Unseen Gaza

2009-01-24T14:38:00.001Z

DISPATCHES UNSEEN GAZA ON CHANNEL 4
http://www.channel4.com/video/brandless-catchup.jsp?vodBrand=dispatches-congos-forgotten

OR

http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=UeezoWRu1FU part 1

http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=Wod2ycln0AQ&feature=channel_page part 2

http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=Ix3bpbNXJSo&feature=channel part 3

http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=PRhgQESUhmo&feature=channel part 4

http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=BSiymcMlHgc&feature=channel part 5

http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=3sd4TMw9wEE&feature=channel part 6

Save the Children in Gaza

2009-01-11T15:27:00.000Z

Please text the word "Ceasefire" to 81819.

Save the Children are said to be organising a poll with the Guardian.

Thoughts I've been having

2008-11-27T20:42:00.003Z

A poem I wrote the other day, when my heart was so filled with angst that I thought, 'Best thing to do is get it out.'

I don't know what I want to do.
I feel silly
stupid
bad
stuck.
I really want to get my work done.
And WELL.
But I haven't. And it's my own fault.
Can't blame anyone else.
Then there's my stupid thought process -
I get caught up in silly thoughts so easily
I need to control myself better
I need to tell myself I have better things to do than
lose myself in silly thoughts
which lead to bad intentions
and stupid actions
and unthinkable habits.
It's not acceptable.
I wish I were stronger.
I think I'm stagnating
when I need to be progressing -
because without moving forwards, I'll slide backwards.
There is no standing still.
I'm on an escalator going the wrong way
--- People are pulling me down with them
But I need to get UP
I have somewhere to go;
Something to achieve.
But right now those are just words to me.
I need them to mean something.
I need myself to do something.
Most of all, I need Help.
And I can't get that by doing nothing.
I need to struggle to be able to feel ease
and what is ease if you don't know difficulty?
This morning I woke up
too late.
And I wished so much that I hadn't
been stupid enough to think that it was okay
to sleep
for just a little longer...
The little bit was what I missed it by.
I looked at the time
I looked outside
And I just felt so empty.
There was nothing in me.
I was nothing.
I felt awful.
I had missed my prayers
and I had got my sleep.
And this was how it felt.
This was what I had wasted my time for.
I had wasted my own time. And my own prayers.
And I felt so empty.
Prayer is better than sleep
But just how much better you cannot comprehend.
And a stupid, selfish me
Was too stupid to realise I was harming myself
by trying to rest myself.
I just sat there
Wanting to do nothing but pray
And I realise I was being punished.
There is no second chance once you've missed the first.
You've just got to wait and regret and ask to be forgiven,
And pray your overdue prayers.
You've got to think
Constantly remember
Or you will forget.
And you'll be left with nothing.

Life in the 'open prison' of Gaza

2008-03-16T18:17:00.002Z

By Aleem Maqbool
BBC News, Gaza

This is a tiny strip of land and its life is being drained out of it.

Gazans say even feeding their families is a daily challenge

For years, the spirit of those living here has taken a pounding, not only from the frequent Israeli military attacks but also by fighting between the various Palestinian factions here.

But now the territory's near-complete isolation - brought about by the blockade - may be delivering the final blows to hope.

"It's like being on death row," I am frequently told and almost every Gazan you speak to talks of his land being an "open prison".

That open prison analogy was once made to me by Nael al Kurdi, a softly spoken young man from Sheikh Radwan in Gaza City.

Nael was a student by day and he helped at his brother's falafel stall by night, that is before he was diagnosed with cancer.

The treatment Nael needed was not available in Gaza, so he was sent to doctors in Egypt.

He responded well and his tumour went down in size.

Sealed

But when the Hamas faction seized control of Gaza, Israel's response was to all but seal off the territory.

Nael was trapped inside Gaza and his tumour rapidly started to increase in size again.

Only humanitarian supplies are allowed into Gaza

Weak and bedridden, he told us he had applied several times to the Israeli authorities to be allowed to leave but had been denied each time.

He and his mother had gone to the border crossing anyway, but they had been turned back.

Less than a week after we spoke to him, Nael died. He was 21.

After the funeral, his mother called on God to punish Israel for closing the borders and for Israeli mothers to feel the hurt she felt.

But the defiance soon subsided and she broke down in tears, saying over and over again: "Nael thought he was going to get better."

I went to talk about his case with a spokesman for the Israeli government who pointed out that the border closures were for security reasons.

And when we got on to the subject of seriously ill patients being allowed out of Gaza for treatment, he told me that, while some patients had been let out, it was his view that terminally ill ones posed a potential danger to Israel.

They had nothing to live for, he suggested, so they might blow themselves up and become suicide bombers.

Blockade

The border closures have also hit the import of simple everyday goods. Humanitarian supplies are all Israel allows in.

It had been decided that this blockade, alongside military intervention, was the most effective way of putting pressure on Hamas and the militants who fire rockets across the border on to Israeli towns.

But the Israeli action has devastated business in Gaza.

The Abudan clothing factory was once a thriving family company. But today the factory is still and dusty.

Half-made pairs of jeans lie next to silent sewing machines. Hundreds of school uniforms, packed and ready to be shipped out, sit in boxes in the store room.

The blockade means no material is allowed into Gaza, while the finished clothes are not allowed out.

All of the 250 people who worked there have lost their jobs.

Desperate times

As we were about to leave the building, a slight, solemn-looking man in his 40s poked his head around the door.

Rockets continue to be launched and... working-age men like Samir are accepting Hamas' offer to pick up arms

Samir had been an employee at Abudan. He said he came by every day just to check if, by some chance, the factory was working again and he could have his job back.

He took us to his home: a small, dark construction of breeze-block and corrugated iron.

His wife held the youngest of their five children as she sat on a thin mattress on the floor. Two other toddlers ran around barefoot as we spoke.

He explained how he managed to make a little money by selling bread from a cart he wheeled through the town. It was not enough, he said, to feed his family.

His eyes welled up as he told us he had not been able to pay his rent for four months but that his landlord had taken pity on him.

The only work left

There was an alternative, he said, one which he had refused but which nearly half of his former colleagues had taken up.

It was to join a work-force that was still well paid in spite of the troubles everywhere else: that is, the security forces of Hamas.

The pressure being put on Gaza - not just by Israel but the international community and even the Palestinian government in the West Bank, which is run by the Fatah faction - is seen as a means of weakening Hamas, strengthening the moderates and stopping the rocket fire.

But, in fact, the rockets continue to be launched and mothers like Nael's are calling for revenge while working-age men like Samir are accepting Hamas' offer to pick up arms.

From Our Own Correspondent was broadcast on Saturday, 15 March, 2008 at 1130 GMT on BBC Radio 4. Please check the programme schedules for World Service transmission times.

What few people see.

2008-03-09T18:35:00.003Z

Dignity

2008-02-18T13:19:00.002Z

Is Bill a Brother?

2008-02-05T20:15:00.000Z

HAHA

Thinking back, Malcolm X and MLK's struggle seems as though it happened so long ago, and yet it's only because of the blood, sweat and tears that the brave African American people put into the Civil Rights Movement that what you see in the video above has become an almost tangible reality.

It may have taken 40 odd years, but it's happening.

I hope and pray that Muslim Americans, Muslim Britons, Muslim Europeans and all Muslim citizens of the world can overcome today's injustices and achieve our goal. Which, contrary to what Rupert Murdoch may tell you, my friends, is not world domination or destruction, but peace. Within our selves and with our fellow human beings. Because we are citizens of the world, and as I saw it termed, a 'mere accident of birth' and what the far right would make of it is irrelevant.

We are all human. Why is that so easily forgotten?

Every Human Has Rights. You KNOW dat's right.

2008-02-02T14:08:00.000Z

http://www.everyhumanhasrights.org/

The Universal Declaration of Human Rights has turned 60 years old, and to me, it looks like people and governments have been taking advantage of it, assuming that it would be too old and tired to put up a fight.

Read the Universal Declaration of Human Rights
Sign up for it.
Act on it, defend it, uphold it.

¡Si se Puede!

Stand up.

2007-11-15T19:02:00.000Z

Life, our lesson and our test.

2007-10-29T11:41:00.000Z

If I were to remark on my own experience,
It would be with unwitting pretence.
For what have I learnt from this lesson,
Or have I prepared for this test?
Have I been any more than being?
I have not been wise, that I confess.

Humbling was his nature, the sincerity
With which he gave his love.
A character so formidable,
Yet his self he thought not of.
He left carrying heartfelt good deeds done in God's name...
I pray his soul is touched by His pleasure. Amen.

Out of my mind.

2007-07-12T19:44:00.000Z

And onto my blog.

In my absence from the blogosphere, so much has been going on that I barely think I have enough room in my mind to worry about all these things at once!

Oh my gosh, the last time I posted I was still dreading my AS exams. Well, alhamdulillah all I have to do now is anticipate... or apprehend the results. Seriously, I don't know how it happens but God does something to take me through exam time, largely unscathed, and I somehow get things done, thank God! Thank God.

But oh man, am I NOT the kind of person who can just go into overdrive for 2 months straight and come out the other end of the season panting, hair askew, and slightly flattened (well, I dunno, look up the laws of aerodynamics), but thoroughly relieved (although I did come out a little fattened).

Family problems. Need I say more? Well, I ain't 'bout to. It's really kind of weird how I switch from sophisticated to slang in just a punctuation mark and a space...

I was kind of... ummm... not jealous, no - just sort of sad that my cousins and I didn't really talk very much between visits (they live in Birmingham, whereas I'm in London), and this period can vary from six months to six days. So I'm really glad now that my youngest cousin and I are talking quite regularly, especially since it takes both of our minds off upsetting matters.

But now, I'm in a state where I know that two people are being more reserved with me than normal, one being my cousin, and the other my friend, for something I don't realise I've done. All I can think of having done is talking to my cousin about why and how to take the hijaab, if she decided to, and going to an Open Day without my friend - only because it was a little late in the day to call her and tell her it would cost her around £25 for the trip on the train, and because she'd spent a whole lot of effort and an hour telling me how she hated the place, and then because she said she only wanted to keep me company, so it was alright if I wasn't able to take her.

Why are things just so unnecessarily complicated? Why can we hurt people without ever intending or wanting to?

And WHY am I so restless right now? I can't believe I'm restless and lazy at the same time. Grrrrooaaahhhhaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...

But I like to end on a good note.

Dinner!

BE the change.

2007-03-25T13:48:00.000Z

Not in our name. Get the message, for crying out loud.

Sign the petition against military action in Iran by sending an email to office@stopwar.org.uk with "Iran Petition" in the header and your name in the message body.

People who have already signed the petition:

Jeremy Corbyn MP Lab, Islington North

Mark Fisher MP Lab, Stoke-on-Trent Central

Clare Short MP Independent, Birmingham Ladywood

Harry Cohen MP Lab, Leyton and Wanstead

Tony Benn London

Dr Elaheh Rostami-Povey SOAS, University of London

Dr Ziba Mir-Hosseini London Middle East Institute

Prof Haleh Afshar OBE University of York

Prof Reza Tavakol Queen Mary, University London

Prof Abbas Edalat Imperial College London

Prof Richard Tapper SOAS

Prof Saeed Vaseghi Brunel University

Prof Mehrdad Zanganeh University College London

Nasrine Alavi Iranian author

Roudabeh Shafie Anti-war campaigner

Andrew Murray Chair, Stop the War Coalition

Lindsey German Stop the War Coalition

John Rees Secretary, Respect

See:

http://www.stopwar.org.uk/_Current/Iran.htm
http://www.stopwar.org.uk/new/events/index.htm

"Shabby show-trials at Guantánamo" - Amnesty International

The story: http://www.amnesty.org.uk/news_details.asp?NewsID=17306

The report: http://www.amnesty.org.uk/uploads/documents/doc_17641.pdf

The BBC's reaction: http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/americas/6478483.stm

Demonstrations:

Awesome quote: "We had hundreds of people dressed up in Guantánamo Bay orange boiler suits and suited guards roaming around ‘keeping order’. It was intense. Spread the word any way you can!" - Steve and Liz From Amnesty’s Project Blog team

Put on a happy face.

2007-03-05T23:08:00.001Z

I was watching Kingdom of Heaven today. Can you imagine living in an era when the leaders at the very top of all power and command over two nations approach each other - with masses of soldiers visible over the shoulders of each - and decide on a truce for the sake of the people, and not glory? Doesn't it make you laugh, with admiration, to hear that one king would send his physicians to another, whom he would have called his enemy, realising he is a leper?

We all feel right and wrong as though it's ingrained in our souls. But still we cause each other harm. We haven't embraced our humanity... it seems to me that we're trying more and more to deny it, to blur its edges, to dilute black to pale grey. I've realised how much one needs to submit to one's humanity, over and over again, each day, every conscious moment requires one to acknowledge it with humility and respect. You see, it can't just be done in a whim. It takes consistent effort. Everything does, and yet I'm sitting here feeling inadequate. Being inadequate.

But my belief in God leads me to hang on to belief in man. All we really have to do is appeal to each other's better nature - the nature instilled in every human soul. I think we've got to aspire, not just dream. Dreams cause you to lose sight of the real world, and can be forgotten as soon as you wake up to see it.

At the same time, I understand how much I've got to embrace my beliefs - my faith in God. I've got to learn to deal with things, learn from things, and most of all, NOT to cry in front of the one who made me cry. Man, nobody warned me how tough it was to grow up! It was never like that in my dreams, you see. I have to face up to things that wouldn't be expected of me as a child, but I still think, or rather, I think because of this, that one must not forget the essence of humanity - the untarnished heart of a child.

(That reminds me - Finding Neverland is SUCH a good film. If you get the time...)

My purpose with this post was originally to talk about my trip to Nice, where I stayed at a French woman's appartment with two of my classmates and friends. Hah, I feel like I'm setting the scene for an enthralling tale...

Little did she know, the young'un with the scarf draped round her head, that that very cloth would irk Madame so... How was it possible that one could bear having to prepare vegetarian meals (as agreed) as well as having to look at the girl with offensively modest dress? Especially as one had protested against this very act of subjugation in 1968 or roundabouts? No, no, it was not! It was one's duty not to bear such intolerable contentedness with anything less than a threat contained in a warning on the second night of the little Muslim's stay.

"Do you have the right to go out at night? ... It isn't my responsibility, nor the school's, if anything should happen to you if you wear that headscarf outside ... Nobody else would accept you [into their home] knowing you wear that, you know ... they saw you at the airport [for the reader's information, I'm pretty sure there was 1 family out of 9 at the airport]. I'm just telling you for future visits [Oh yeah, it would just be dandy to come back to this again] ... I mean, I agreed to take you even though you were vegetarian [Very brave! Does it take a lot out of you to pluck sausages out of lentils and serve as is?] ... And if I had known that you wore a headscarf, I would have said no ... No, that's not discrimination - you must take that back - that is my choice! ... Now I don't know why you're crying, you girls are here to enjoy yourselves. Let's end this conversation."

It was the final night of their stay when one of the other girls, Sophia, asked for a picture with Madame. The veiled one took their picture, and for nothing but to be polite, asked for a picture with Madame herself. No response. Sophia repeated her request. "I can't. I can't." They watched Madame's back out of the door.

She returned a moment later.

"If you took off your scarf... If you were a free woman, like me... then I would take a picture with you".

I am freer, because I won't be subjugated by you, either, Madame.

I've realised that I cried from anger. Gut-wrenching, breath-shaking anger. But yo, it ain't no biggie. I'm aight. But I feel so, so sorry for the poor girls who have to accept this as a part of life. And I feel so, so grateful that I live in a society where sharing and learning about differences is so important that intolerance is not tolerated.

God knows your pain. Gaining strength is a much greater ordeal than surrendering to it. Although the latter isn't what I intended, it's what comes across when you see a girl crying at being insulted. God, please give me and all those who believe in You strength of character so that we follow the example of the beloved Prophet, peace be upon him, and worship You in our every act.

But hey - before you envisage me as thoroughly depressed (or depressing, as the case may be), I had lots of fun in Nice. It was a beautiful city - and in one little lagoon the sea was just silent when you got up close... so peaceful. Oh, and I bought a book that I read about in the newspaper on the plane there: Suite Française. I was reading the introduction recently and it told me that Irène Némirosky, the author, used to visit Nice during summer, and would go to the Hotel Negresco, which we used to pass almost every day, without a clue that a woman who wrote about the war's effects on human character and later died in Auschwitz used to visit it! And they were talking about Suite Française with high esteem on last night's Newsnight (9/3/07 - I've updated the post) - don't dismiss it too fast!

And my teacher was a very intelligent, sophisticated and knowledgable woman. She was born in Algeria, and lived there until she was 15. That is, until tensions between the Arabs and the French led her family to leave... but she wasn't the bitter type. She told us some of the Arabic words she knew, and described a friendly people. We talked about all kinds of things, and she made lessons truly interesting. What's more - the school said zilch about my headscarf, and the people were really nice to me.

You know, it feels wonderful to be writing in English again. I like French, but English flows so smoothly whereas French keeps getting stuck and having to refer to English for the way out, and then ends up confused and unsure by the time it surfaces. Thankfully French seems to be getting to know its way around with time, but English has its own pleasures.

Michael Moore so needs to team up with George Galloway some day...

2007-03-05T21:17:00.000Z

http://www.michaelmoore.com/words/message/index.php?id=204

Quirky Perks... Perky Quirks.

2007-02-10T23:34:00.000Z

Went to London today.

On the way there, right across from the river, we saw this massive house, with a massive multiple garage, in which an Aston Martin and a Bentley were parked.

One of the cars had a number plate reading "2 BE" and the other "NOT 2B"
HAHHAHA
2 BE or NOT 2B? That is - indeed - the question.

I swear these Londoners are too rich for their own good.

It looks to be Nice.

2007-01-18T20:17:00.000Z

Well, inshaAllah, I'm planning to go to Nice in February for a French A-Level trip... and I received my letter of confirmation from the French school we'll be studying at for a week yesterday.

Would I have avoided the pun in the title? Hah.

I found out one of us (either me or my friend Sophia) would have to call our (as I see her) foster-mère. I ended up doing it. This followed: (Sorry about the lack of capital letters and proper punctuation - it was a flighty email to my roomie)

(And sorry about the... well... French. Babelfish should do the job.)

aie aie aie!

i just called madame evelyne
she was like "vous etes trois?"
"je crois.... err... non...."
"parce que monsieur blah-blah m'a dit que vous etes trois.."
"err... je ne sais plus..." (she thought i meant i didn't understand.. but i didddd!)
"two or three?"
"two... c'est moi, saira, et sophia." (i'd told her about you before as well)
"d'accord..."

after the details and stuff...
"...tu parles bien en francais, saira" (slightly mrs hunter style) My French teacher. Don't get me wrong, she's the best!
i was like yeah, right...

and then at the END
she said a bientot
then so did i
then she stayed on, and she was like... "je te chercherai, n'inquiete pas" or something
i was like "-ok-" (i thought i'd already said bye.)
"au revoir"
"au revoir" how many times am i going to say bye?
then i hung up.

she was nice though. she must be like "poor english girls..."

And I think I told her my phone number wrong.

Ah well... I'll console myself with the thought that my place will be about 2 minutes' walk from the beach.

Oh yeah!

Okay, it will be February.

But, la beauté, la beauté!

La chimie et l'hilarité - un mélange explosif

2006-12-05T18:37:00.001Z

I went to a Chemistry conference in London on... well, ages ago now. November.

Thou shalt not judge.

It was honestly one of the most interesting series of talks I've listened to.

Let's start from the beginning. My journey: I got the tube with my brother (it so happened that his University is actually, literally around the corner from the Institute of Education, where I was heading). And you know what I realised? It is incredibly difficult not to eavesdrop on people's conversations in the tube. I mean, think about it - you're sitting there, sufficiently bored to nod off, with your brother next to you reading Musharraf's biography. Your mind can't help but wander to the next person's (relatively loud) conversation with their friend. After all, it needs some activity to remind itself that it's alive. Thankfully, the substance of the dialogue escapes me, so I won't be leaking any intercepted intelligence today.

I'm beginning to feel like Anne of Green Gables with all these italics. But they just work so well!

Anyway, I had reminded myself to tell you about a quaint little discussion I encountered (walked in on) in the Costa café inside WHSmith in Kingston. Three young adults, probably at university level, were just sitting there, as if time were no object, and discussing the philosophy of religion. <3

Hey - digression keeps it interesting, OK?

Well, I got there a couple of minutes late (despite having been yelled at by my brother for leaving so early because he'd forgotten some stuff at home in the rush), and was sneaked in through the back just as the forensics scientist was introducing her speech. I can't help but think that she was trying to dissuade us from forensics rather than anything else, judging from the comments about not getting paid enough, and that about 2% of her job was exciting, and the rest plain tedious. Oh! And the gory, bloody crime scenes. Euurrggghhh. But it was interesting all the same.

We were all pretty grateful to see the next guy making his subject sound at least stimulating enough to consider. I think he was talking about electronic gadgets. He explained how they work in so much detail - it's amazing how complex these chemicals are, are how they can be manipulated for so many different uses! No, really, it is!

Then there was the nanotechnology talk. This professor talked about how modern medicines weren't nano-scale robots, as depicted in the press (tabloid, I presume?), but in fact chemicals that are designed to fit exactly into the active sites of bacteria or viruses... Most of it was really very cool. Way over my head, though. *whoosh*

And then this inspirational man came along. He just spoke for the first... what, half hour of his talk? And he did it incredibly boistrously. I reckon he had a mission to deliver all of the 3000 words in his mind, while ten minutes short of the hour he'd planned for (and he was sure to remind us of the latter). But don't get me wrong - he didn't slur for pace. He must have Energizer batteries or something, because the exhertion was certainly not trivial. He just went on talking, or perhaps I should say enlightening, and I honestly don't recall a single pause, not even when he began to skip up and down the stage with test tubes in hand or when he emotively bounced on the balls of his feet as he diligently enunciated his words. I thought that his passion must have made his work really fascinating and fun.

You could tell it did. Not just for himself.

I couldn't help but make videos. Being the inexpert film-maker that I am, however, and only being armed with a like, 1.2 megapixel cameraphone at the time (that's not good quality), this was the best I could do. Oh - and the MPEG-4 format prevented me from being able to edit the movies with Windows Movie Maker.

But please, accept the shoddy work (in numerous pieces), because the substance is quite worth it.

I have saved the best for last... but for it to make sense I suggest you watch them all, in order. They're not that long.

(Watch out for the warning given to Ollie concerning exploding dustbins.)

(Oh and the brown things that the man and Ollie place on the floor in one video are violins. Yes. They played violins, and timed their music exactly with one of the experiments they had set up on the table - the colour change in the beakers would suddenly cloud up as they started the next part. HOW COOL ARE THEY?)

My Beautiful God

2006-11-24T22:10:00.001Z

I heard a little Owlie talking about why she believed in God. I'd like to share my thoughts, if you don't mind. :)

I think logic reassures me, it comforts me. Everything in the Qur'an makes sense - it fits. Think about it - we were told the human body was made of water, the components of the earth (consider the minerals - they're there), and the embryo from a clot of blood and sperm hundreds of years before we discovered the scientific evidence of it.

But what profoundly touches me is the beauty of God's word; His promise; His creation, when fulfilling its potential for beauty. Beauty is what connects me with God. Whatever your situation, there always exists something beautiful, be it hopeful or grateful. I believe in Him because He's given me so many beautiful things to hold on to as a reminder of Him.

Broadening the Scope of Pope Benedict XVI: By Hamza Yusuf

2006-11-19T13:16:00.001Z


The admirable response by Sheikh Hamza Yusuf to the recent controversial remarks by Pope Benedict XVI's Regensburg address. He's showing us how to defend with our intellects - rhetoric gets us nowhere. This is the way to promote understanding. MashaAllah.

Remembrance Day

2006-11-11T16:22:00.000Z

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/programmes/from_our_own_correspondent/6136520.stm

Pain and disbelief in Gaza

By Matthew Price
BBC News, Jerusalem

Earlier this week, tens of thousands of people mourned the 18 Palestinians killed by Israeli tank fire in the Gaza town of Beit Hanoun. Israeli Prime Minister Ehud Olmert has expressed regret and some Israelis are now beginning to re-assess the ongoing conflict.

When I got back home I went straight to the balcony.

I turned on the hose, took off my boots and washed them down. Made sure I got the blood off them. They are out there now, drying.

Then I went to shower, washed my hair, brushed my teeth. Beit Hanoun was dirty. I wanted to feel clean again. The streets were soiled. The tanks had left their track marks by the shops.

The wall outside the secondary school had been knocked down. Railings to stop children running into the street were bent over.

On one pavement I saw a trickle of dried blood, where a woman had fallen, shot in the head. And on a quiet residential street, the faces told me everything I needed to know.

The sides of the road were lined with people. Some stood, others sat. They stared into space, at one another, at the ground. Some put an arm around a neighbour. One man grieved alone, tears on his face. All had the same look in their eyes.

I noticed it because it was not the look you see so often, one of hatred, of revenge. This was a look of sheer disbelief. I noticed someone I had met before. A taxi driver who once picked me up at the Erez crossing into Gaza. Raed had the same look. Not quite crying. But you knew something was deeply, deeply wrong.

How many of your family have you lost, I asked? "All of them. They all had the same grandfather."
"I feel hate," he added. He did not spit it out like people so often do. He just said it. "I hate George W Bush. I hate Israel of course. I hate the Arab world. I hate Europe." His eyes, though, did not say hate. They said pain.

Incomprehension

Later, when I got home, I spoke to an Israeli friend. She sounded broken. She is a true left-winger, always has been.

They are rare here now. She described how another Israeli had called her earlier, saying she felt so ashamed that she dare not call her friends abroad.

I told my friend it is not her fault. I know, she said. You meet very few Israelis who express such feelings.

Most, of course, express regret, especially at the death of children. But many of them find it impossible to properly understand Palestinians. It is often easier to blame. And it works both ways.
Earlier this week I met a Palestinian man who told me most of his neighbours think that all Israelis are soldiers.

"They only ever see soldiers," he pointed out.

"I try to tell them they are mothers and fathers like us," he added.

And this is the tragedy here. Neither side comprehends the other.

Hardliners prevail

The gulf between the two is so great that perhaps neither side wants to anymore.

The other day at an event marking the assassination of the Israeli prime minister Yitzhak Rabin, one of Israel's most acclaimed left wing authors delivered the keynote speech.

David Grossman pulled few punches. He talked of an Israel in crisis, and of the failure of the peace process.

"The Palestinians are also to blame for the impasse," he said.

"But take a look at them from a different perspective, not only at the radicals in their midst.

"Take a look at the overwhelming majority of this miserable people, whose fate is entangled with our own, whether we like it or not."

The sad fact is most Israelis do not take a look at the Palestinians.

More and more it seems to me, it is the hardliners on both sides whose voices are being heard the loudest.

A day after the killings in Beit Hanoun, the Israeli newspapers were full of comment.

Some - predictably - said the deaths were preventable. If only the Palestinians would stop firing rockets at Israeli towns, Israel would not have to shell Gaza.

But there were others from a different perspective.

One commentator wrote: "For us, [these deaths] pass as if [they] were nothing.

"We have to ask ourselves. Does this really serve our national interest?"

Haunting memories

When I left Beit Hanoun, I went to the BBC bureau in Jerusalem to edit a television piece.
We have both Israelis and Palestinians working there.

I took a break to make a coffee and walked out into the newsroom to find a young girl, four or five years old, her hair in pigtails, standing with her father.

He is a producer in the office.

An Israeli, and it threw me.

She looked exactly like some of the girls I had seen in Gaza that day.

Back from the dead, standing there in front of me.

We closed the edit suite door so she would not see the pictures.

Outside on the balcony, my boots are now dry. It will be harder to wash away the memories of what happened at Beit Hanoun.

Where are we?

2006-11-04T15:20:00.001Z

What are we doing?

I'm putting this on my blog patiently, I am not overflowing with rhetoric, and nor am I anti-semitic. Let's get that out in the open before I'm accused of spreading propaganda.

This is real footage, of a real incident, with no commentary. See for yourself, and think about what your heart feels. Consider the meaning of your feelings. Think.

Does it not offend your sense of humanity?

Tsahal tire sur une manifestation de Palestiniennes
LEMONDE.FR 03.11.06

Eid Mubarak!

2006-10-26T17:42:00.001Z

I hope you all had a wonderful Ramadaan, and I pray that you are blessed on this happy occasion for all the good deeds that you have earned during this holy month.

Alhamdulillah for the mercy He has shown us... let us pray that each of us lives to make the most of every Ramadaan, and every day of our lives.

Aameen.

Eid Mubarak!

Eid in the Square

2006-10-17T17:06:00.000Z

Eid in the Square

Date: 28th
Time: 1pm-5pm
Location: Trafalgar Square
Summary: Eid in the Square is a unique cultural event celebrating Eid ul-Fitr, the Islamic holiday marking the end of Ramadan, the month of fasting. The event will include live entertainment from the mainstage and visitors can explore the delights of a street bazaar and learn more about Islam by browsing the various exhibitions and displays on the day. Artists include hip-hop act Mecca2Medina, Shaam, Nazeel Azami, Shahid Falahi, Message Cultural Group and a special preview video of international nasheed artist Sami Yusuf.

Courtesy of the Mayor of London and Islamic Relief.

Do attend! It doesn't matter who you are, or of which religion; it sounds like a good family day out. I understand there will also be speakers there, and it is a great gesture from the Mayor.

Repentance

2006-10-16T16:50:00.000Z

Glad tidings for he who finds numerous supplication of forgiveness in his book of deeds.

:: as-Sunan al-Kubra ::

All the children of Adam are wrongdoers, but the best wrongdoers are those that repent.

:: at-Timidhi ::

O people turn to Allah and repent. Indeed I turn to him a hundred times a day in repentance.

:: Muslim ::

www.fisabilillah.org

Beautiful Words

2006-10-15T14:51:00.000Z

Taken from Rubaiyaat by Zeba Khan:

If ever you should find me
In prayer, in tears, at night
Don't ask me what's wrong
For once, things might be right.

Everyday Considerations

2006-10-03T16:16:00.000Z

Every good deed is charity.

:: al-Bukhari ::

Fasting is a shield.

:: Muslim ::

Remember the good qualities of your dead, and refrain from mentioning their failings.

:: Sahih ibn Hibban ::

www.fisabilillah.org

How about these?

2006-10-02T16:05:00.000Z

Faithfulness enriches and treachery impoverishes.

:: al-Fidaws ::

Remorse is repentance.

:: Sahih Ibn Hibban ::

A promise is a debt.

:: al-Mu`jam al-`Awsat of at-Tabarani ::

www.fisabilillah.org

Ponder these...

2006-10-01T13:59:00.000Z

One who breaks ties of kinship will not enter paradise.

:: al-Bukhari ::

Love for humanity what you love for yourself.

:: Musnad of Imam Ahmad ibn Hambal ::

The majority of man's sins originate from his tongue.

:: Mu`jam al-Kabir of at-Tabarani ::

Courtesy of www.fisabilillah.org

Ramadaan Mubarak

2006-09-23T10:28:00.000Z

May Allah grant you all a blessed and happy Ramadaan.

Ramadaan Mubarak!

Response to Kate and Alex

2006-07-23T09:38:00.000Z

Well, this started off as another comment, but my inability to stay concise forced me to make a post of it.

Sorry for the late response.

Kate,

Thank you very much. It means a lot to me when people acknowledge my views as at least rational thoughts. You have a very good point, and thanks for asking my opinion. The name "burqa" may mean "barrier", but this is only to the extent that the woman's physical features below it cannot be perceived. It is actually unislamic to be socially inactive - our beloved Prophet (p.b.u.h.) looked after his neighbours, even if they were not Muslim, in their times of need. Every Muslim should emulate the Prophet (p.b.u.h.) to the best of his/her ability. Not too long ago, I heard of a sister who wore the like of a burqa (niqab included - i.e. only her eyes were uncovered) and taught at a mainstream school - it didn't prevent her from taking part in society. And it shouldn't.

Of course she can accept the culture, because it stands for many morally just principles, e.g. brotherhood, but it mustn't be forced upon her in forms she cannot relate to, or views to be morally wrong. Here in Britain, we are proud to have our own multicultural society, to which each can add (curry is now considered a thoroughly British dish), but we retain the traditionally British values of modesty and politeness because they are what make us proud to be part of such an inclusive society. However, beer-sodden football chanting can not be considered an "initiation" into British culture. I mean, not exactly all Britons do it anyway. I'm not so sure that North America is quite the same... I don't know. Would you tell me your views? It seems to me that there is much more nationalism in the U.S. than in Britain (until the World Cup comes around, that is), and this discourages people from adding to its culture, because they feel that if they don't conform, they don't fit in.

Also, regarding wearing a headscarf and modest clothing, well that's just fine. This is all Allah asks of us in the Qur'an. No specification of shape or colour is given - only that clothes must not be tight or transparent. People choose to wear burqas, or abayas, mink coats, or whatever. If you ask me, I don't really mind what material they use, or how they sew it. Does it really bother people that much? I realise people have some kind of burqa-phobia, but seriously... it's not that hard to get over. Actually talking to a person wearing it would show you that there are real people under there... their outfits aren't that different to hoody-wearers anyway.

Don't get us wrong, though. We choose to cover up, but I am one of the only ones in my school, let alone my group of friends, who wears a headscarf. I don't impose anything on them. As the Qur'an says, "There is no compulsion in religion". Forcing one to adopt your values is futile - it leads to resentment. Neither do I look down on them. It's not down to me to think better of myself than I do of them - they're good people, and that's why I value them as friends. They've done a lot for me, and the fact that they choose to wear things that I wouldn't cannot be something I discriminate by. My only job with regard to them is to convey how very unoppressed and content I am as a person.

I just don't get Jacques Chirac, though. France is built on Fraternity, Liberty, and Equality, yet liberty is denied to schoolchildren who have the human right to practice their religious beliefs. This in turn destroys any chance of equality in schools, as some can wear what they want, and others must not go any further than a bandana. And surely this defeats fraternity, separating the religious from the others, as the former feel victimised and distanced from society. I mean, sure, be secular, it's your country - but don't impose atheism on your people.

Alex,

Thanks. However, I have to disagree. I very much enjoy the opportunity to put my own point across - even if prompted by disagreeable arguments. If there wasn't discussion, there would be largely ignorance.

And don't pretend that that's not dangerous. No matter how unworthy you may consider them to be of your enlightenment, you and they both deserve to put your opinions across... or neither will ever learn. But I do draw the line at obscenities.

"After all, how is it any less oppressive or authoritarian to force a women to remove her headscarf than it is to foce her to wear it?" Exactly. Ditto. Totally what I think.

Now that I'm done laughing... have a look at this:

2006-07-02T18:28:00.000Z

Below are two comments on a post from Ann Althouse's blog.

Sloanasaurus said...
I don't have a problem with the religious garb either - as long as they do it in their own country. However, if you are a muslim woman and you live in the United States, you need to get rid of the Halloween costume. I saw a woman in a burka the other day in Minneapolis - how absurd and ridiculous. She should be arrested at a mximum and ridiculed at a minimum. The whole thing is distracting, and in this country it is viewed as oppression and not as religious. If you want to move and live in the United States, then you need to assimilate.

Sorry, am I reading this right? Is Sloanasaurus really suggesting that Muslim women (who, by the way, are clearly under no obligation by the government or society to wear the burka in Minneapolis, and so are most probably doing so by their own choice) should be arrested on sight just because she chooses to don an extra length of fabric?

Careful, there, Sloanasaurus, you're getting dangerously close to the oppression that people claim that Muslim women are put through in Muslim countries... only, over there, they're not arrested for being seen in public.

Here is the eloquent response that I found quite amusing:

Simon said...
Yes. She should know better; this is America. As we all know, the sine qua non of America is that people should be ridiculed and even arrested for the free exercise of their religious views and sartorial
proclivities.

It really is quite good once you understand it.

The following is an extract from an article I found, written by a woman whose sister converted to Islam (obviously to the former's displeasure).

Muslim women claim to wear the headscarf, or other more voluminous covering, out of modesty. I suspect that, in fact, the veil is attractive to women because it subtly appeals to their vanity. Islam tells women that, no matter how plain, old or ill-favoured she is, the sight of her uncovered hair will be so stimulating, that any man who sees it will lose control of his passions. Thus, beneath her modest covering, a Muslim woman can imagine herself the most desirable creature possible. Women who operate freely in society, conversing with men on a daily basis, are, in the end, forced to form a just assessment of their desirability. Unless she is particularly young and pretty, a woman will be made well aware of most men's indifference to her charms. She will find, in the long run, that likeable men will like her as much for her character, skills and wit, as for her beauty. It is when woman's sexuality is not shrouded that it ceases to be an object of mystery and passion to men, and women have the greatest chance of being treated as more than sexual objects.

(The highlighting is mine)

I am not so shallow as to have to pretend to be a supermodel underneath my headscarf. Neither are other Muslim women. Unless you imagine that our intellects/levels of sophistication are so underdeveloped that we haven't the capability of accepting who we are and have to "make believe" by throwing on a cloth to hide our true selves.
Islam disciplines a person in order to eradicate vanity. We consider all beauty a gift from God, and so nothing that we should pride ourselves on. I'm sure all of us didn't create ourselves, so why praise ourselves for our looks?
"Islam tells women that, no matter how plain, old or ill-favoured she is, the sight of her uncovered hair will be so stimulating, that any man who sees it will lose control of his passions." Quasi-pornographic billboards and magazines actually make it happen, and degrade women in doing so. I feel sad that women treat themselves as circus attractions. Islam does not tell women anything of the sort. It merely protects their dignity.
Dignity, integrity, and modesty are dear to any practising Muslim woman. The form in which she expresses it is the hijab.
I don't consider any woman "undesirable" because of her looks. Islam teaches people to marry first and foremost for piety, and then consider other assets. It teaches that however pretty/handsome, a woman/man without a good character will not be as good a spouse.
"She will find, in the long run, that likeable men will like her as much for her character, skills and wit, as for her beauty." Well, yeah. The hijab means to let the woman's character shine through. The thing is, you get people not taking those who aren't so attractive seriously, or holding them in such high esteem. The hijab is a preventative measure. I dare anyone to take a survey and prove to me that the hijab was less effective in achieving the above than no hijab.
So she's trying to say that... when it's not covered... it has the least effect on the beholder. Does this explain the significant problem of anorexia that we face today?

Another very, very important point. People actually insist that we're oppressed. No matter what women say...http://althouse.blogspot.com/2006/06/survey-of-muslim-women.html It seems laughable, doesn't it? But it happens. And to top it, the actual women who they suppose are oppressed are abused because of what they wear. I don't see how this works.

The moral of this post:

“I know that ridicule may be a shield, but it is not a weapon” (Dorothy Parker)

The Story of Gul Badshah

2006-06-23T13:41:00.001Z

A while ago, my mother recorded a program on TV, which showed Urdu poets reciting their poetry. One woman, Zehra Nigah, recited the most profound poem that I have come across for a long time.

It was such a touching poem that I decided to tell the world about it! The following is a transcript and attempted translation by me. The translation may not be exact, but it's difficult to get it just right... I've tried to match it with the theme and context of the poem.

I was going to start talking about it, but I think this is a poem that you have to discover yourself to feel its honesty.

Those of you who have done an English GCSE, and doubted that there would come a day when the "Poems from Other Cultures" Paper would ever come of any use... flex your interpretation muscles with this...

Qissa Gul Badshah Ka
The Story of Gul Badshah [Flower King - a grand Pashtun name]

Naam meira hai Gul Badshah,
My name is Gul Badshah,
Umr meiri hai teira baras,
My age is thirteen years,
Aur kahaani meiri umr ki tarha sai,
And my story, like my age, is
Muntashir, muntashir,
Broken, fragmented,
Mukhtasar, mukhtasar.
Brief, short.

Meiri bei-naam, bei-chehra maan,
My nameless, faceless mother,
Bei-dawa mar gayi,
Died cure-less,
Baap nai us ko burqai mein dafna diya;
My father buried her in her burqa;
Us ko darr tha kai Munkar Nakeer us ka chehra na daikhain.
He feared that the angels of death may see her face.
Vaisai zinda thi
Even when she was alive,
Jab bhi wo madfoon thi.
Then too was she buried.

Baap ka naam Zartaaj Gul,
My father's name was Zartaaj Gul [Gold-Crown Flower - "Zar-" can also mean extravagently expensive],
Umr battees baras.
His age 32 years.
Woh mujaahid, shahaadat ka taalib,
He, a soldier, a seeker of martyrdom,
Raah-e-haq ka musaafir hua,
Became a traveller on the path of justice,
Aur jaam-e-shahaadat bhi us nai
And from the cup of martyrdom he also drank,
Meirai chaacha kai haaton piya,
At the hands of my uncle,
Jo shumaali mujaahid tha,
Who was a northern soldier,
Aur panj-waqta namaazi bhi tha.
And was a prayerful man.

To masla is shahaadat ka peicheeda hai...
So the issue of this martyrdom is complicated...
Is ko behtar yei hi hai, yahin chorr dein.
It is better for it to be left at that.

Ab baarhaal, baba to jannat mein hai,
Anyway, Father is now in heaven,
Us ki baahon mein hoor-o-qusour,
In his arms is a woman of paradise,
Us kai haaton mein jaam-e-tahoor,
In his hands a cup of pure heavenly wine.
Meiri taqdeer main bum, dhamaakai, dhuwwaan,
Meant for me are bombs, explosions, smoke,
Pigalti hui yei zameen,
This melting earth,
Bikharta hua aasmaan.
A shattering sky.
Ba'ad az mot, wo zinda hai.
After death, he is alive.
Aur zindagi muj sai sharminda hai.
And life is ashamed of me.

Kal, sar-e-shaam, dushman nai,
Yesterday, at the tip of dusk, the enemy,
Jaatai huai,
While passing,
Bum kai ham-rah barsaa diyai,
Along with bombs, dropped
Muj pai kuch zard thailai,
On me some yellow bags,
Jin sai muj ko milai:
From which I found:
Gol roti kai tukrrai
Round pieces of bread,
Aik makkhan ki tikkya,
A stick of butter,
Aik sharbat ki botal,
A bottle of juice,
Murabbai ka dibba.
A tub of jam.

Is kai badlai mein,
In return for this,
Woh lei gayai:
They took away:
Merai bhai ka dast-e-mushaqqat,
My brother's labouring hand,
Jis mein mannat ka dora bandha tha;
In which was tied a band to act as his ward;
Meiri choti behn ka woh paaun,
That foot of my sister's,
Jis sai rang-e-hinna phootta tha.
From which the colour of henna gushed forth.
Log kehtai hain, yeh amn ki jang hai,
People say that this is a war of peace,
Aur amn ki jang mein hamla-aawar
And in a war of peace, attackers
Sirf bacchon ko bei-dast-o-pah chorrtai hain,
Only leave children helpless [literally: "bei-dast-o-pah" means without hands and feet],
Un ko bhooka nahin chorrtai.
They do not leave them hungry.

Aakhir insaaniyat bhi koi cheez hai.
After all, there is such a thing as humanity.

Mein dehektai pahaarron mein tanha
I, alone in the fiery mountains,
Apnai tarkai ki bandook thaamai kharra hoon...
Stand holding the gun from my inheritance...
Tamaasha-e-ehlai karam daikhta tha,
I used to watch the antics of the people of kindness,
Tamaasha-e-ehlai karam daikhta hoon.
I still watch the antics of the people of kindness.

Naam meira hai Gul Badshah.
My name is Gul Badshah.
Umr meiri hai teira baras.
My age is thirteen years.

A Study of the Soul

2006-06-17T19:34:00.001Z

The moment that marked not only the end of my physics exam (which literally began with laughter) but also the end of 2 months and 10 days of what I would like to call hardcore revision: piles of notes (colourful, attempting to make themselves seem less grim); muscle cramps (the proof); and the occasional escape to the table tennis table with ma chère Maman (this has been much kinder to me than my dad's brutal tennis forehands), came and went, and didn't even bother to declare its presence as I'd imagined it would.

But surely it must have meant something? Shouldn't I have spontaneously begun jumping up and down and giggling madly... or at the very least made some indication of the fact the tension that had been crawling over me for the past few months had conclusively flown off (to be replaced by a smaller, more discreet version in the form of anxiety over my results)?

Has drowning my mind in the tumultuous blast furnace of undiluted study finally killed (er, reduced) my soul, leaving me unable to taste of the joys of the long-awaited summer?

A slightly stronger tinge of melodrama would have you think so.

I took off my school jumper yesterday with a sense of triumph. Had my brother had his way, however, such a historic act would have been accompanied by a more ceremonious ritual - "You're taking your jumper off? But... it's the last time you're ever going to wear it!" I was hot, so, like, whatever. And anyway - it's not like I'm emotionally attached to the fish-decorated acrylic weave.