Traditions,traditions!

How incredible is it that those pet peeves we had about family traditions become so important to us as we grow older. Especially when we have kids.
I find myself doing things just because that’s the way it was done whilst I was growing up.
With technology it’s difficult to get our kids and myself away from the smartphones and tablets. But there are a few things I won’t ever compromise on.
Family meals are one of those times….the kids set the the table, and I expect all to sit and eat together. No TV!! And no technology most of the time.
How did we ever survive without those damn things….life was simpler and I think we were more present in the moments of our lives.

The other task keeping me busy is preparing for Ramadhan. Savouries coming out my ears!!
I always said I’d never succumb to the absolute madness of preparing all this food for the fasting. What is the point when the entire premise of the fast is not to feast.
Even though I do just enough to satisfy my family during this time, I would never dream of not having any savouries.
It’s just how we broke the fast….table laden with mouth watering goodies.
Something’s are meant to stay the same…..

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Not Happy Mother’s Day

What’s it like to be bombarded by Mothers Day paraphernalia for weeks when you don’t have a mother.
Nauseating.
I am a mother and I appreciate that mothers need to be celebrated.
But the adverts….the chocolates…the flowers.
The endless ads on the radio.
Nauseating.
I don’t care if it sounds selfish…..
I just feel nauseous.

The Samoosa Run

I’ve just read a brilliant book called Riding the Samoosa Express…which is a compilation of stories Indian woman in South Africa have written in regard to their experience in meeting prospective spouses, and their own experiences in marriage and life in general.
Zaheera Jina has done a remarkable job in putting such thoughtful experiences together. It was heartwarming to read these ladies deepest thoughts and the hardships that they have overcome.
Yet when I completed the book I was left with a new found distaste for the practice of the so called Samoosa run.
It’s a practice of a “boy” with his family visit a girl….she serves tea and samoosas and is paraded. They judge her looks,her height, is she fair or is she fat….if she is educated, will she be too smart for her own good.
Thereafter the boy spends a few minutes chatting to the girl privately…to get to know her.
In this time he will decide if he will propose and then marry her.
In the week or so that follows the girls will wait and hear if he likes her or not ….
REJECTION
What! Is she’s not good enough, pretty enough,thin enough, fair enough!!!!!!
Does her family not own the right house or the right cars!!
If she’s known to have had a previous relationship than she is soiled goods….
Yet no one looks at the boy. He after all is in the market for a bride. And he is choosing.
The girl does get to say yes or no after the proposal….but i think it is belittling her integrity as a human being. It’s selling her worth short by giving him so much power over her future.

Now will someone please explain to me why is this acceptable. Why do we allow our daughter, sisters….us to be paraded like cattle at an auction?
Are we not worthy of self respect?
Why do we allow our daughters to be humiliated and have their self esteem further eroded by this archaic practic?
I do not and never will see this as a necessary part of life.
Even though I do not have any alternative to this whole process, I do hope that I never have to be a part of it.
I have two beautiful daughters….I do not know what lays ahead in their future. But I do pray that Allah guides them to their perfect spouses.

I saw my father’s funeral in a dream.

I saw my my father’s funeral in a dream…
He was shrouded in white. Lying there’s so still.
My heart was shattering into a million pieces.
There was family around waiting to take him to his final resting place. My mum sat in shock.
No sooner had his body been lifted I awoke.

Why did I have this dream?
As his funeral was nothing like my dream. It was thousands of miles away.
I was nowhere…I did not see his shrouded body. I did not say any final goodbyes.
I did not see his lifeless body.
Even though I’m sad….I will never wish it to be any other way.

‘Forty is the new thirty!

How long has it been since I last wrote?
I really don’t know. It’s not that I don’t have anything to say,I just feel like I’ve lost my voice.
Life goes on, we are so busy with day to day stuff.
Each day brings new challenges, each day we grow. I learn more about myself.I see the future in my children’s eyes. It both excites me and scares me at the same time. I’ve come so far…I read through my previous posts.
I felt all that pain and heartache….it’s all there, but I’m over the hill. I’ve conquered the worst of my grief.
And yet I stand today knowing that I’m missing something.
I need to find a new purpose in my life. My kids are just a little older. It’s been easier,my baby is not a baby anymore. She’s an intelligent, feisty soul that will start big school next year.

I have time to find myself again.
How time passes…it amazes me.
40 is supposed to be the new 30!

Forgotten memories

My beautiful daughter turned 5 today. I’m so amazed at the bright confident little girl she’s become.
As we lay in bed last night talking about the excitement of the day to come. I couldn’t but help think about my mum.
It’s been 2 yrs…she had turned 3 just after granny had passed. So much has changed, so much has transpired.
On her own she says to me that she misses granny.As we spoke I realized that her memories are fading…
She will have a few recollections of her time with gran….but it’s all fading.
I’m heartbroken.

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