Category: Rant

  • Contaminated (Part II)

    We live in times where the inclination to remedy a fall far outweighs any rationale to prevent the fall from happening. We’ll willingly encourage others towards intoxicants or unhealthy distractions, and then form support groups to help them out of that addictive state, while refusing to condemn the bad advice we gave in the first place. Accountability is only celebrated if it doesn’t disrupt the oblivion of the masses. Those that threaten such disruption are spurned for being callous, cruel, or arrogant, often accused of thinking that they’re better than everyone else. In short, we condone that which reflects our own weaknesses not because we believe in its wholesomeness, but because we feel more human in recognising the shared weakness in others. More than this, it makes us feel less inferior when we believe that we share shortcomings with others, rather than falling short of expectation by our solitary selves alone.

    It’s not about being better than everyone else any more. These days, it’s simply about not being worse. There was a time in human history that I imagine the focus to have been on competing to excel in human endeavours. People would have exerted themselves to achieve noble goals that served as inspiration to others to want to rise up and pursue even greater heights. It’s quite different today. Today, it seems as if we compete to see who is able to dominate through any means possible, where the level of domination is celebrated, without any concern for the means or methods that achieved such domination, except where those means and methods threaten our ability to actively compete.

    I’ve been fascinated by the term ‘fully formed adults’ ever since I first read it a few years ago, but my fascination quickly turns to disgust as I look around and struggle to find specimens that exhibit such qualities. Semi formed adults raise calloused and contaminated children. Children that grow up under semi formed adults face trials and hardships that are entirely avoidable, and fully surmountable, but they often shy away from the challenge of rising above because when they raise their gaze looking for a role model to guide them, they see nothing but more contamination of a society that is full of semi formed adults. It’s therefore little wonder why they themselves succumb to the same cycle.

    Regardless of how harsh our childhood may have been, we all reach a point of independence in life where we are able to feed or break the cycles that raised us. Critical thought is spurned as rebellion and disrespect because semi formed adults lack the skills and self-worth to effectively navigate their way through critical thought processes. The stigma associated with failure is so harsh that even in the face of absolute failure we’ll find a euphemism to describe our sorry state. Anything is better than admitting failure. It’s this same insincere and tainted social setting that continues to lay down a path of strife and distraction for children looking for meaning and purpose in life.

    In the absence of a critical mass of fully formed adults, those that try to break the cycles are placed with a burden that is tenfold relative to the effort that would be needed to raise a balanced and confident child. It’s a constant struggle of trying to convince or influence the child towards a wholesome standard while they are bombarded with the unhealthy standard of the semi formed adults that they’re surrounded with. Isolation from such a malformed society is not an option. When we disengage, we lose the right to judge, criticise, or cry foul.

    We need to stop raising children. We need to start raising adults. This mindset that has contaminated the world in recent centuries that childhood must be enjoyed with abandon so that we can start being adults when we reach a certain age needs to be abandoned. This distinction between childhood and adult life is misguided. It’s not about age, it’s about awareness and accountability. We should expect greater accountability as we progress through the stages of self-awareness and awareness of our surroundings. The same way we expect a child to stop wetting the bed once they have been taught the value of hygiene and the skill of using the toilet, we should continue to hold them to such levels of accountability in action and behaviour as they continue to acquire new skills.

    But adults that had a contaminated childhood often project those regrets on the children under their care. Instead of raising the standard against which they raise their children, they embellish the esteem of the child with gestures that convince them, the adults, that they’re doing a better job than the raising that created the flaws that they despise about themselves.

    The common undertone and theme in society these days is one of demand, but little supply. We’re all demanding to be recognised for the struggles of our lives, and to be judged based on the gravity of those struggles, while remaining entirely oblivious to the fact that we are merely spawning another generation of victims that will take our efforts and raise it further. Their demands will be ever more destructive and selfish, and the erosion of society that we universally lament will continue on its downward spiral until a group of inspired young souls will look upon the generations that came before them with a sense of contempt and disbelief. The inheritance of wholesomeness that should have been passed down will be absent, and in such total absence they may finally resolve to correct the path that they’re on, rather than continuing the toxic cycle in search of affirmations and validations for experiences that hold no sway over the next generation.

    Adults that still place their insecurities and weaknesses before the well being of those that look up to them deserve a special kind of scorn. We all have the ability and the capacity to actively reflect on how we are perceived by others so that we can take steps to embellish our images in ways that would earn us praise. This is regardless of upbringing or value system. It is entirely based on who we wish to view us admiringly, and how we wish to feel about their gaze on us. We therefore cannot argue that such reflection in the betterment of our characters and moral assets is impossible simply because we were raised by a calloused or contaminated society. The resolve and courage exists for us to change the way we live our lives. The motivation however, is lacking, because it is significantly easier to fulfil an expectation of a consumerist society than it is to raise the expectations of the next generation.

    [end rant]

  • A Ventlet

    I need to copyright that term. It describes my channels of expression so well.

    Ventlet. (n) Channel of expression or platform to express without fear of ridicule or repercussion. Most often employed to express confusion and/or angst that is unintelligible to most ordinary souls.

    My moment of deliberate superficiality has now been accomplished for the day. I browsed through an old post earlier and it struck me that I spend more time wanting to make a statement rather than share observations these days. I don’t like that. It blends in with the soap-boxers too easily, and I don’t care much for that kind. That tends to blend in too much with the hoards of deconstructionists that I find myself surrounded with. People that always have a reason why something is flawed or not good enough while rarely being bold enough to offer an opinion of their own. An informed opinion, that is.

    Perhaps they also have a need for ventlets but do not have access to one. Nah, that doesn’t compute. I could have said ‘that doesn’t add up’ but I felt like being superficial again. Over embellishment of expression is a great way to make something mundane seem important. I know how to do that well, even though it is something that annoys me easily. I often find myself prompting people to speak plainly.

    Having tough discussions without the political correctness to stroke people’s egos, from personal experience, tends to yield more meaningful outcomes than showing a superficial respect for everyone. The superficial ones are those that are so focused on appearing likeable or proper that they willingly compromise substance for image. The irony is that such superficiality, to anyone paying attention, is in fact disrespect, disregard, and a waste of valuable time. Its focus places the needs of the superficial one above any vested interest in a meaningful outcome that any of the participants of such an engagement may have. Perhaps this post should be titled ‘Superficial’ instead?

    Thinking aloud in a space that is no longer anonymous has its daunting moments. It has tested my sincerity on many occasions and is probably also why I seem so prone towards making statements rather than expressing my internal conversations with the aim of making sense of them. Like I’ve said before, we’re all curators looking for an audience. What an odd thought to be reminded of, yet so apt. Every overt act or expression is a means towards soliciting a desired response from the audience we wish to impress.

    I suspect that there is no logical end to this vent, yet I continue brushing these keys with the tips of my fingers hoping that my mind will once again form the expressions of the thoughts that need to be verbalised the way it once happened so naturally. Moments of reflection like these stem the tide in my slip into senility and self-obsession. Taking stock of my forms of expression tends to result in me calling me to account for subscribing to mannerisms and inclinations that I would normally despise in others. A moment of reflection is greater than 80 years of worship. I can see how that would be more valuable than ritualistically plodding on to an imposed rule set as opposed to conscious subscription to a way of life.

    Wow, how did this suddenly become about religion? Perhaps in that is a hint to the underlying tensions that I have subdued for too long.

  • Does It Matter?

    I watch with a very cursory sense of interest how the significance which people associate with their contribution to a given course or situation influences their conviction in what they say or do. This becomes somewhat morbidly amusing when I see all the corporate gurus that define elaborate strategies to foster staff engagement and collaboration, always focusing on creating opportunity for inclusion and discussion, but completely missing the point of significance.

    The simple truth, from my vantage point anyway, is that if you don’t think your input matters, you’re highly unlikely to make any concerted effort to contribute meaningfully to begin with. So the few that realise this will go around reminding people how much they matter, and how important they are to the success of the outcome. Too many fall for these empty gestures aimed at manipulating them while only a few would question the sincerity of it given the absence of a suitable delegation of authority to be able to influence the outcome in a material way.

    I think somewhere in there lies the secret to being a successful leader in a hypocritical society, where a measure of hypocrisy is excusable, if not needed, because everyone apparently does it. I find it difficult to buy into the ‘everyone does it so it’s ok’ mind set. It implies that offensive behaviour suddenly becomes acceptable just because most people have degraded to that point. It means that the gradual decline of society into the moral abyss must be embraced because everyone will be doing it. The logic fails me, more so because there are so many that subscribe to it.

    But that is not what this ramble was intended to be about. The clutter and noise makes the maintenance of a train of thought extremely difficult these days. Distracted by what is worthwhile and what is not, I’m spending more time focusing on being measured in my responses to those that don’t deserve it, and less time on just being true to my convictions. This is tiring. It exhausts me to have to be this deliberate just because of the need to protect myself politically from those that embrace that normalised hypocrisy.

    I’m too much of an elitist to succumb to such a commonly pathetic way of life. On this front, being arrogant would be the vice that I would embrace given that the brazen hypocrisy of others is merely the fruit of their arrogance. Therefore, if my philosophy on dealing with arrogance holds true, my elitist approach is in fact a duty to civil society.

    That’s my story and I’m sticking with it.

  • Old School Modesty

    I’ve never been one to mince my words when it comes to sharing my perspectives on morality, respect, and simple values that I believe makes life wholesome and dignified. The amount of pandering to political correctness these days is sickening. Fair enough to say that to each their own, but when that perspective suddenly becomes legislated, then it’s no longer to each their own, but rather to all will be the acceptance of the unacceptable.

    But this post is not about what I find wrong with the moral decline of society across every nation and every religion in general. This is my outburst, or maybe even just my plea for sanity and common sense in a time when dignity is a foreign concept and everything is about acceptable limits only. What is too much or too little is discussed as the focal point of modesty and respect, rather than an holistic approach to what truly maintains the dignity of a human being.

    I often get young girls lamenting the fact that they have really bad or non-existent relationships with their fathers. Many, if not most of them, go as far as stating that they don’t give a damn about whether or not their father is a part of their life, or will be a part of some really significant life events, and more often than not those breakdowns are a result of a lack of self-respect on the part of the daughter. This does not in any way justify or excuse the behaviour of those pathetic fathers that are absent in their daughter’s lives. That can never be excused.

    This is about the father that tried to maintain a healthy relationship with his daughter but was prevented from doing so because she felt inclined to be womanly before being a daughter. I look at young girls with their fathers and I wonder how is it possible for them not to feel shame about the way they dress in front of them let alone in public? A father should never have to lower his gaze when looking at his daughter. If he does, that speaks volumes about the disrespect that his daughter has for him.

    We wonder why incest, family rape, sexual molestation, and similar despicable acts are on the increase, but we don’t question how we conduct ourselves as a society, or even as a family unit? When daughters feel nothing about appearing sexually alluring in front of their fathers, or brothers for that matter, then don’t be surprised when her male family members either disrespect her, want to have nothing to do with her, or treat her in ways that are morally questionable.

    Am I placing the blame only on daughters? Not at all. There is as much that can be said about the parenting skills of many fathers, and mothers. But right now, I’m incensed by the complaints of girls that come from decent homes with fathers that are not absent, that still maintain them, and that are not abusive, on drugs, or alcohol, or even cigarettes, and in fact are even religiously grounded in many cases, yet the girls find it more important to establish their identities as women regardless of the impact it may have on their relationships with significant male role models that they will inevitably regret not having around later in life.

    Modesty is for sale, and dignity is not even in the catalogue anymore. Worse than this, dignity is a concept that seems to have been set aside in favour of freedom of expression and individual rights. It’s always the ones that are screaming for independence in this manner that are mourning the erosion of society and community as recalled by the old folks. Like the beloved prophet (pbuh) once said something to the effect that when modesty is gone, do as you please. If you don’t respect yourself, or even lack the presence of mind to know what that respect should entail, then don’t expect much more than that from the people around you. This juvenile concept of unconditional this and unconditional that is nothing but unconditional rubbish. When we stop expecting acceptance no matter what, maybe then we’ll start establishing wholesome relationships that are grounded on respect and dignity, rather than just common fashion, sexual, or social interests.

  • It’s not your fault…

    It’s not your fault if you grew up in a dysfunctional home, and now find yourself going through life trying to find a niche to call home, as long as that niche is not with family. It’s not your fault if you grew up in a functional home and can’t relate to the restlessness and anger of those that have grown impatient and intolerant with the prejudices of the world. It’s not your fault if you grew up in an average home that was neither dysfunctional nor functional but struck an awkward but not destructive balance between the two and now find it difficult to understand what the fuss is all about.

    It’s never your fault for how you were raised, but it is your fault if you choose to remain a product of your upbringing for the rest of your life. There is a point that we all reach in our lives when we become self-aware and uneasy about just being. That point is not reached when we turn 18, or when we turn 21, or any other age for that matter. That point is not defined by age, but instead it’s defined by our willingness to question what lies behind who we are and what we aspire to be.

    We’ve turned life into a series of superficial milestones that leave us oblivious to the major gaps in our lives that occur while we’re waiting for that next milestone before we find a reason to act. We wait to turn 18 before contemplating the future, and then we wait to turn 21 before we expect to be taken seriously, and then we wait to get a job before we feel worthy, or we wait to get a degree before we believe we have something of value to contribute to this world. We wait until we get our first job, and then we wait for each pay day, and then we wait for the annual bonus, and we wait and wait and wait. And all this time we’re blaming the system and blaming society and blaming the world for being a rotten place that celebrates scum and punishes victims. But we fail to realise that in all this waiting we’re allowing the system to define who we are and what we’re capable of achieving, and then we become disillusioned and angry when we don’t find our place in that system that is supposed to see how significant we are, or when people fail to celebrate our milestones.

    I’m not quite sure what the point of this post is. Perhaps it’s just a rant, or perhaps it’s just a brain dump. Perhaps it’s nothing. Perhaps it’s a small token of my struggle to rise above the system that has been restraining me all my life. Whatever it is, I suspect that there is some truth in between all the noise, and finding a moment in the chaos to stop and reflect on that hint of sanity in the noise is struggle that has plagued me for a long time now.

  • Happy Damned Birthday

    Birthdays have always been an ominous occasion for me. I can never find a reason to celebrate because of the stark reminders carried by such a milestone. I’m certainly a glass-half-empty kind of person when it comes to this, probably because my glass full of life just got emptier at the passing of yet another year.

    I’ve been obsessed with this image of a long curve or arc that symbolises time stretching inversely across the horizon with only the very tip of its apex brushing the soil. And that single moment of its brushing represents my entire lifetime in the context of the universe, making me realise exactly how insignificant my existence really is.

    And this is not even close to my birthday, which incidentally has ceased to hold any significance for me, be it joyous or otherwise. It really has faded into just another day, because it has never changed the condition of my life in any way except to serve as a reminder that I’m supposed to take a moment to benchmark my life against others that have grovelled for as long as I have.

    We’re all beggars. Some just more dignified than others. Who is not begging for happiness or contentment, wealth or comfort, companionship and fame? At our weaker moments we morbidly acknowledge this, but when the memory of pain subsides, such realisations are discarded in favour of feelings of false elation. Forgetfulness is probably our greatest gift and mercy. Imagine the pain of a life that bore the intensity of the memories of every moment of distress or destitution?

    Oh yes, birthdays…I hate those. It’s supposed to signify the passing of another year, when in fact it’s just the passing of yet another day. Just another day, with more significance attached to it than anyone could ever justify. How I despise the feeble-minded that define themselves by such whimsical milestones!

    (This is something I wrote a year ago, and remains true today as well…)

  • Still The Distracted Ummah

    The sad reality of this Ummah is that it is prone to being divisive while crying for unity. We find it so simple to speak disparagingly about the personal perspectives that some adopt, and choose to openly mock them in their absence, thinking that not mentioning names is sufficient to free us of the hypocrisy of that action.

    We find it easier to highlight the shortcomings of every sect, every community, every sub-culture, or any person, but find it extremely difficult to celebrate the common ground, to build on the positive aspects that we share, or to jointly pursue beneficial programs that will contribute towards the unity of the Ummah rather than constantly hammering down on that wedge that sectarianism has created.

    A strong and united Ummah doesn’t happen on its own, nor does it miraculously form through dua. Dua unaccompanied by action is fruitless, hence the very plain instruction that guides us to tie our camel AND trust in Allah, not just trust in Allah blindly without any action.

    A united Ummah is a result of a united society. A united society is not possible without united communities. United communities will never be established if we have internal bickering and political agendas that make the American government look saintly. Unsurprisingly, united communities require united families to establish its foundations. A united family is not possible without committed individuals striving for harmony and understanding within the family unit. Finding the required common ground on which to build this entire structure that we all so achingly yearn for requires individuals committed to these holistic goals before they find reason to commit to selfish objectives that undermine these goals.

    The simple truth is that it starts with us as individuals before it becomes a global problem. Every global problem is a result of a critical mass of idiots that contribute towards the universality of the issues that result in said problem. We need to stop pacifying ourselves against the shortcomings of others. We need to stop being creative in introducing western concepts and western agendas into Islam under the guise of progressiveness, liberation, feminism, or similar such euphemisms that belie the true nature of the courses being pursued.

    Political correctness has no place in this Ummah. It has no place in Islam either. Political correctness breeds insincerity, and insincerity is at the heart of hypocrisy and disunity. If we’re forever prone towards counting our troubles and taking for granted our blessings, it’s hardly likely that our generation will see the Ummah progressing towards the noble status that we inherited from Rasulullah (SAW) and subsequently destroyed because of nothing more than infighting and selfish pursuits.

    Talking about the need for a reawakening is only a distraction from actually doing it. The time to talk about the strategies is long gone. We have strategists and intellectuals crawling out of the woodwork in droves, but very few who are willing to put into practice the knowledge that they so fervently seek to acquire.

    I’m often reminded of the prophecy that says that a time will come when the Ulama will be despised, and I realise that the basic assumption is that this will be so because people will despise the religious teachings that the Ulama try to establish. However, it is also entirely possible that the Ulama will be despised in the same way that unprincipled leaders are despised by their subjects. We have factories churning out Ulama by the dozens, online universities making the acquisition of Islamic knowledge easy and convenient, western institutions offering degrees in Islamic studies, and of course we have access to entire collections of ahadith and Qur’anic commentary through mediums that allow a layman to develop a critical and informed opinion on almost any aspect of Islam without leaving their favourite arm chair. Despite this massive and unfettered access to information, including students and scholars alike that have years of studies applied to acquiring this knowledge, the Ummah is in a state so despicable that we are impotent in the face of blatant persecution and abuse throughout the world, not least of which includes the so-called Muslim lands.

    Yet we still have time to point out the errors of our brothers and sisters, and we also still have the presence of mind to judge who is deviant, who is kafir, and who is damned to hell, while Muslims are starving themselves to death to get us to notice that there is a bigger issue that the Ummah needs to deal with beyond the pettiness of liberalist agendas and personal preferences. May Allah have mercy on us for our distracted state, and may He guide us towards a path of conviction in the beauty that we all profess to hold in our hearts. That is the beauty of Imaan. Ameen.

  • Random thoughts

    Browsing through my archives is somewhat surreal. At times it triggers stark reminders of forgotten moments, but sometimes it feels like I’m a stranger observing a struggling soul. Looking from the outside at someone that’s trying to find their way and not quite figuring it out. It’s strange and disconcerting, but there’s a rawness in the expression of emotion in my posts that reflected a sincerity that seems to be lost these days. I feel so guarded and safe in what I express, or even what I share. It’s as if I’ve suddenly become aware of the audience. I didn’t count on having an audience before. The audience, by their very presence, has tainted my focus, my sincerity, and my courage. I’ve become an attention-whore. And I hate it.