Live your life over again!

I have finished reading the Anne Frank's Diary and got wholly inspired to search for my own journals. They are faded now, the pages are yellow and the ink in them are fading away. I wont like to publish mine though, the way Anne Frank did, (Note: I realised at the end of the story that she wasnt that much like me though except for a few traits). But I would definitely store my diaries though if I can, for myself instead to read and laugh out loud later.

Today, as I was talking to my old colleague and friend Farhana, through our conversation, I also realised that "If we write our life down, every time we read it, we can relieve our life again and again, so that we dont live just once but many times over and over again"

In our lives there will be incidents we would forget, incidents we had forgotten and incidents we dont want to forget. So, if we do write down every moment through, indeed if we have time. I know most of us do write journals or have written one at one point of time or the other. Once we read them, it has the ability to transport us back in time and we can almost feel that moment again, for a second we can feel exactly what we felt when we wrote it, most times, its a great feeling.

I came across my dad's diary too. In it he had been very concise, just events were written and dates and venues visited. But, in the midst of all those entries was one, a two and a half page entry, about his visit to Bangalore when I was a student living there. The entry was not as brief as the others and it made me realise that he must have wanted to really relieve those moments. He had even noted down what we did each day. It made me feel really strange, as if he was alive and talking to me through his entry in the diary. I wish he was still here with us. I miss his presence more and more each day. May Allah rest his soul in peace.

What's In A Name?

Today, as I was reading the "Anne Frank's Diary - The diary of a young girl" I came across a lot of similarities between the character in the book and myself. Is there something behind possesing the same personalities by having similar names?

Selecting a name for a baby is a huge deal in the new millenium. Trends come and go, the fastest rising or falling baby names mirror cultural trends, changing fashions or world events. Today's baby names are influenced by celebrities, tv shows and even by popular brands. Both me and my sister were named after a notable queen and a princess. Whether we share the qualities and personalities of these famous people is yet another story. Names can have lifetime consequences and thats a fact. A name can set up a child for social acceptance, school yard teasing or ridicule. This effectively giving a child the ability to choose which name they're known by in future years as they grow older. My real first name is Marufa, but in school I was called Maruf in short, which later turned into 'MyRoof'. This resulted in a reluctance to use my first name unless for official purposes and instead, I reverted to using my nickname, which was much simpler and easier.

With celebrity being the new royalty, celebrity baby names are increasingly finding their way into 'normal' society. Using family names in this way is a wonderful way to keep ancestors alive down through the generations. I was named "Begum" which was retained for maidens and handed down over generations. But, the dictionary meaning of "Begum" meaning wife had given rise to a lot of ridicule too in growing years. So I suppose its important to realise and make sure that the names would be something the child will be happy with.

Recently, the internet has given rise to a huge dictionary of names to select from including the meanings of these names. Some not only allows you to search by name, but also by all sorts of fantastic categories including 'celebrity', 'pop culture', 'the classics' and 'imaginative'. Once you've narrowed your selection down to an individual name, the site, for example "parenting.com" gives you the meaning and origin of the name as well as the popularity rank over time.

Another thing you can add on to the list, if you believe in numerology is what kind of personality the baby could have once given such a name. One similar site I came across long ago was http://www.kabalarians.com/index.cfm where you can find out what kind of personality you have depending on your first name. According to the site it says that "The Kabalarian Philosophy teaches that mind and language are intimately linked. When language is used to attach a name to someone, certain specific forces of conscious intelligence are combined".

You can try out the site and check whether it works for you. I have found a few similarities in character as stated. But whether I truly believe that Anne Frank and Anne (me) have similar personalities due to the similar names is still a debatable issue.

Remembering My Dear Dad

About two weeks ago, on 2nd july 08, Wednesday, I received a sms from my dad where he wished me and my husband happiness. I looked at it and thought, “Gee, since when did dad become so formal?” I even mentioned it to my husband when he came back home that day. After receiving the sms, I thought of replying immediately but found out my mobile phone had run out of credit. As it was too late to get it recharged I waited for my husband to get back home so that I could use his phone to call home. But, when he did arrive, I forgot until it was too late to call that night. To justify my forgetfulness, I thought it would be just alright to talk for an extra lenght of time durimg the weekend, on Friday, as we usually do call our parents every weekend.

I felt guilty about not replying that sms on the fated Wednesday night but did nothing to remedy it, even thought about it all night and tossed and turned knowing I should have replied, late as it was, and wondering why I hadn't. Little did I know that the same thought would ring through my mind for far more than just one night after that day. I even remember how my guilt prompted me to ask my husband much later whether he thought my dad would worry that I hadn’t replied. He smiled and told me that it was about time my dad stop worrying about me. I laughed and replied with utmost certainty “but abbu will never stop worrying about me!”.

On Thursday night, abbu passed away suddenly following a massive heart attack and I flew back home on Friday. The same day I was meaning to call and talk to him.

Abbu’s face beams at me everywhere ever since I last saw him lying peacefully asleep forever. He was always smiling, a serene calm person who raised the three of us siblings in a very strict, but not too strict manner. He was always there, encouraging us, allowing us to realize our fullest potentials, never once berating us for stumbling in our ways. He was hard working, mom used to say that dad lived his life on roller skates, never pausing to enjoy life. His favorite word was “Later”, “shob hobe..pore”, (Everything will happen later). If we wanted to all take a family trip, he would say “later”. We grew up, had our own circle of friends…we never did have that family trip. Neither did I get to buy him the leather rocking chair I promised him either. “Later”, I had thought, it would be a surprise birthday present…”Later” thus became “Never”.

What can I do now to unwind time? How can I call those moments back? Why do we all live for tomorrow planning things in the future, when it’s a future we have no control over? After all, tomorrow is what abbu lived for all his life but never lived to see. He never took that world tour he wanted to go on with my mom, he never took that long holiday to relax in the countryside like he always thought he would. He worked dutifully and dilligently without rest all his life without leisure or pleasure when all along he could have lived like a king!

Every time I think of my dad, I can feel the pain he must have felt when he had had the attack, the pain that he would have felt when they were rushing him to the hospital, the thoughts that would have chased his mind. If only I could have shared a little of that pain that day, I might have felt better today. If only he would have allowed us to share a little of his worries, perhaps allowed us to carry his burdens maybe. There he was, totally giving up his entire life, his time and his strenght, focussing all his energy and living his life...just for us!

Gone is a person who knew me inside out, who was my best friend ever, who was the only person I could spend 30 pages of handwritten letters on, the one person who called people to read out my sms to him. He still has a glass shelf with all my gifts to him stored in them which he never used. He stored every scrap of thing I gave him including a file full of cards and letters I used to write to him from college, years ago. And while I am still trying to figure out what I gave in return to him all these years for all that he has done, I feel totally bereft for being so ungrateful as not to have a few seconds to even reply to an sms, and for all the things I could have done to make him smile all these years but didnt.

He was my light, he gave me strength. In me, he shall live forever.

HE HAD SO MUCH TO DO, HAD SO LITTLE TIME

"To God we belong and to Him we shall return." (Qur'an 2:156)