Are you sure the devils are all tied up?

Afghani food I tried in Bonn

I began fasting at seven years old, purely out of peer pressure. I had thought to start fasting at puberty, just like my Daddy. Alas and alack, I was shamed out of going to the canteen during Ramadan and thus, it was easier to just fast.

It was more challenging when my school was in afternoon session. The heat made you drowsy and the day seemed endless. When I took the schoolbus, it was worse because the evening congestion often meant that I reached home after Maghrib, by which time I was dehydrated and ravenous. Luckily for me, my Mum began driving when I was ten so I no longer had to deal with that.

For all my ignominious start to fasting, I have always enjoyed Ramadan. I rarely went back to sleep after sahur; I used to spend it playing computer games on our enormous home PC using the large floppy disks, or watch the one Disney cartoon that my Daddy bought on VHS, and as I grew older, just reading. 

Theoretically, fasting is only for those who are physically capable and is not an obligation for children, the old, and the infirm. It was only recently that my eyes are opened to other invisible infirmities when it comes to fasting. Mohani Niza wrote a lovely piece examining what Ramadan is like for those with debilitating conditions that are not always apparent.

I hate it that we police fasting in this country. Fasting is an obligation between the devotee and Allah; no one else is part of the equation. It is detestable that we have a criminal act under the syariah law that enforces respect for the month of Ramadan. How on earth does a month have feelings?! How is fining people and if they can't afford to pay, stuffing them in prison for not fasting Islamic? Not to mention that the ones who get punished are usually those from the lower socio-economic bracket; the lofty bangsawans get away scot free.

We need to go back to the core of fasting. Fasting is supposed to remind us of those who are less fortunate, and help us reflect on our spirituality when we stop feeding our body. It is supposed to give our bodies a rest from the usual abuses we heaped on ourselves and reprogramme how we manage our time. 

No one should be punished for not fasting, whatever their reasons may be. Let us take this time to reflect on the blessings that we have received to improve our thoughts, words, and deeds. Because some people's behaviour sure makes me think that the wrong devils are tied up during this month.

Ramadan Mubarak to those observing!

Adding insult to injury: impacts of the COVID-19 pandemic on women living under discriminatory Muslim family laws

The COVID-19 pandemic bodyslammed pretty much everyone on every continent, including the frozen wasteland of Antarctica. Women are disproportionately affected by the COVID-19 global seismic shift on all fronts; be it economic, health, safety, and general well-being. 

Musawah's study shows how Muslim women subject to discriminatory Muslim family law has to deal with greater stresses. Many conservative Muslims claim that Islam has been a boon for women; but it seems that this truism may be true in 7th century Arabia, but not the Muslim world in 21st century. 

Sisyphean on a Titanic scale

“The only mode of attack is to deal with a heavy decrease in the production of plastics, as opposed to dealing with them after they’ve already been created,” she tells the group. “Your consumer behaviors do not matter. Not on the scale of the problem ... It’s the cessation of production that will make the big-scale changes.” 




*sigh*

Stolen from here.

Accurate observations

I hate rape jokes and jokes about violence to women. So imagine my love when I came across these gems.

Yeah, I get that it's #NotAllMen, but hey, how many straight men are afraid of being beaten to death by their spouse or partners?

Although Marlon Brando rocked it in A Streetcar Named Desire, the connotation of it always made me squirm.

Boggles the mind.

One in three women suffer physical and/sexual violence from their intimate partner.

A woman is 4 times more likely to die at the hands of a man she knows (i.e. father, brother, husband, boyfriend, stalker) than at the hands of a stranger.

Say no to violence against women.

I used to like Vanessa Williams ...

... until she sang Colours of the Wind.

It's no secret that I loathed Pocahontas. The reason?

Just see below.

No matter how pretty and perky the film, I still cannot get over that Disney would want to gloss over the story of a 12 year old who was separated from her people, abused, forced to convert, paraded about like an exotic animal (to the minds of her captors, that's what she was) and was buried in a distant land after contracting a horrible disease courtesy of her unwashed jailers.

FUCK, NO.

Ada aku kesah?

Indifference kills lame trolls.

All stolen from here.

When I was a child, to be told that I am unattractive was one of the worst things that could happen to me. I bought the whole ideal of beauty in media: to be thin, to be tall, to be pale complexioned.

Which is daft since:

a) Though I was slender (note the past tense), I'm not media-friendly thin.
b) I was short until I hit 15.
c) I'm a Malay - tan is my default colour.

Luckily for me, I somehow developed this idea that it's okay to not be pretty by the time I was around eleven or so. I gloried in not fitting the ideal, and I stopped scrutinising people for pleasing or unpleasant features or appearances.

Life is so much easier when you don't care what people think of your looks.

When I was sixteen, I attended a co-ed school and got me a pretty nasty culture shock. My idea of what teenage co-ed life was pretty much gleaned from television shows like Saved by the Bell. I had no idea that boys are so much more mealy-mouthed and gossip hungry than girls. Heck, they are even bitchier.

Case in point: one male school mate cornered me one day and told me that I should stop wearing skirts because my legs are ugly. He said that with an air of smug superiority, as though what he said came down from Mount Hira'.

I sat on a table, and looked down at my legs. They were curvy from ballet and covered with scars from scabs that I peeled before they healed. Most certainly not centerfold worthy.

I looked back at him and smiled.

"And who are you to me that I should care about your opinion? Are you my father? My brother? My boyfriend? Not any of those, right? So why should I care that you think that my legs are ugly?"

That was the first time I saw a Malay boy blush.

And frankly, if you are not going to pay for a new dress for me, or treatment for my ugly-ass appearance, why do you need to tell me what I already know? Bodoh, is it?

D is for Denial

It's never our fault. It's always someone else's fault.

Right?

Right?

B ... is for Books

 This post is about RAAAAAGGGGGEEEE.

There is a lot of swearing.

You have been warned.

M is for Mask

Duplicitious.

Subtle.

Indirect.

Devious.

Women are often portrayed as conniving plotters and vile seducers out to victimise poor, hapless men. From centuries old fairy tales to the latest television hits, pop culture and literature are littered with women who are evil (i.e. has her own agenda that doesn't serve a man's), wily (i.e. respectable intelligence is only for men), bossy (i.e. only men are forceful), and the list goes on.

Why can't women be forthright, many men say. Why can't women be open about what they want and be honest about their true motivations? Why are women always saying A but actually meant B?

Dear readers, we are made that way.

(sic)

Many women grow up thinking that they need to present a certain front to the world. They are expected to be pretty, to be personable, to be nice, to be demure and subservient to the authorities in their life (namely, the men). They have to be a good daughter - do the chores, mind the younger siblings, cook the meals, be home by 6 pm, and come home with bushels of As for the exams. They are expected to be a great girlfriend -  the obedient wife - the undemanding mother.

And if they can't? Well ... fake it till you make it.



Lyrics to the awesome song is here.

Yeah, I'm a sexist

... and I'm not ashamed of it. All stolen from tumblr.

Again, NSFW. What? I'm an adult. It says so on my birth certificate.

Midweek sh*t and giggles

Cause it's not Friday yet and we need some laughs. All gifs are stolen from here.

NSFW, You have been warned.

Where is the joke?

 

*laughed*

*and then cried*

Things that make you go grrrr ...

Q: Did you ever have this problem?

A: All the damn time.

When the shoe is on the other foot

Empathy: the feeling that you understand and share another person's experiences and emotions : the ability to share someone else's feelings. (Merriam-Webster dictionary)


I enjoy my dreams where I was a male; not many women know how amazing it is to be a man. When you are stronger and taller, with a deeper, louder voice, you see the world very much differently. You treat and judge people, particularly of the opposite sex differently. Possession of the Y chromosome comes along with a different perspective not just shaped by culture and upbringing, but also from atavistic mannerisms cultivated over milennia that are expressed with the testosterone gene.

As a feminist, I get very angry when men pooh pooh away issues that women have to deal with on a daily basis. Being considered an object, for instance. Whether you wear a bikini or a burqa, society feels that it has a right to comment and dissect and praise and denigrate your clothing choices. Why don't men who wear tatty jeans and food-stained t-shirts get the same disdain? What about the men who wear Speedos in public when it is clear that they do NOT have the physique for it?

When a woman is physically assaulted, the questions that follows are:

1) What was she wearing?
2) Where did this happen?
3) What was she doing when it happened?
4) Was she drunk?

Because it boils down to blaming the victim mentality: that the victim did something, ANYTHING, that provoked the attack. The thing is, no victim asked to be assaulted. It doesn't matter the clothes, the place, whatever. Good men do not assault women. Good men do not assault anyone. But the figures that are reported every so often on domestic violence, criminal assaults and so on indicates that there are very many bad men out there.

I think men take a lot of issues that women are concerned about for granted because physically they get to be at the top of the food chain. Perhaps these videos could help make men understand what it's like when the shoe is on the other foot.




And this.



So please. Have some empathy for the travails that plague half of humankind. You may be one man but you have a role to play. Be an example. Teach your sons that there are better ways to get a girl's attention than swiping at her bum or catcalling. Teach your sons that no one has a right to touch another individual without consent. Call out when another man behaves badly towards the women in his life.

It has to start somewhere. Why not with you?

QUIT BLAMING THE VICTIM

Just. Stop.

Stolen in entirety from here.