The day when groom and bride collide

When you want to be a part of happiness and when you still can not pour down the tears of joy that definitely gives a blank and unidentified color of signal. The 7 of us, not to mention the names, were having too much going through their minds and heads that Pabloo forgot to wear his boxer and Curly dude forgot to give a ring to his mama and say “I love you”.

When it comes to the supervisor, the plan is black and white and the wakes up calls are on time and non stop. But she is sometimes too much of a control freak and annoying. So that’s how the day started. Probably, some might think that it’s a time for celebration but too much was ahead that we hardly had time to be in each other’s arms.

When it comes to Pabloo, the stress is fun. Jokes, jokes and jokes that made me vomit (like the bride says). But definitely, he was an ease for all of us when we all wanted to fight with each other or cry.

The curly hair girl, who was the best girlfriend on the scene. Seems like she is an expert when it came to labour work and the work was flawless not showing the attendees that this was her first experience. But beyond work, she was amazement to us all as she was a substitute to radio and we loved it.

The curly hair dude, who was too much of a precious baby of Island Chief but yet wasn’t that precious to do the dirty work for our beloved groom and bride. For us, he was a better human being as he was manly enough to take the lead and be the man of the whole situation.

The “kuda kuda” Farbaz, who was too cute to make any of us stressed. Came out selflessly to help us all. Altruistically, she gave more than her time and commitment, the belongingness she presented was absolutely better than the actual belonged.

Mr. T, who looks mild but wasn’t that mild when it came to work work work (curly hair girl…don’t take this wrong). He, who was more than an extra hand that took off a whole sahara of sand, but also was there to bring in red bulls for all of us.

The outsider, was a man to look up to. Took care of us all with doughnuts. (I hope he’s keep his mouth shut about this).

Thank god we slept that night before, if not I am not sure how we would look or how we all can handle twice as much as mood swings that went along during the wedding day. Morning was as beautiful as it could be, started my day with breakfast and confessions of 37 days with Pabloo.

Before we knew sun was setting, with too much tension like the candles in the shot glasses. A beloved groom, who was too dedicated and committed to the wedding, for whom nothing else mattered on the particular day. More credit goes to him, as he had promised us a coffee. The backdrop was empty. The branches were limited. The best men were moody. The bride was usual.

Throughout the wedding mania, favorite moments to capture on a frame would be when me and my boys sat down and listened to the bride on the phone’s loudspeaker. When Pabloo and I ate hell lot of yummy food from grandmas. When Curly Hair Dude and I went on girl’s shopping and was totally ruined by bride and groom’s tension. When finally a bra was smaller on petite girls. When we did the cards with groom’s family. When Pabloo and I had chocolate balls and red bull. When Bride and Groom collide collide collide…. When we high-fived for the locked up dude.

8:45pm it is. The moment we all felt so relieved but so fucked up when I heard the phrase “varah reethi viyya” in the most sarcastic torn and voice. Damn I hate that moment, nevertheless the top ten made it up to me when he said, I don’t need to get ready because I was looking sexy as I was. Not that this is appropriate, but these words drive your day, even when it’s messy.

So we all came back, looking hot and stunning. Enjoyed an hour or less and then again, labour work. During which we all went crazier than ever. I sold my soul to top tens. Two curly hairs decided to get married, and Curly Hair Dude decided to announce their wedding date on our next coffee. Worst, they even decided to have curly haired hairy babies. Supervisor decided to storm off :$ Some were too moody to talk to. Some were too ignorant to help. Some were too hyper from too much work and too less sleep. Yet, strong as ever, we pulled it off.

The best part of the night is when we all said bye to each other; we thanked each other, hugged everyone and stared at each other, when that look said it all. Said that, despite how tough it gets, we all stand for loved ones. We all shall always be there through tears and laughs. The finest moments of the night was saying goodbye to friends who stand by you forever. Like the groom thanked us all “we were all there to hold his hand when everybody else just shook his hand”.

Despite everything, what makes a wedding day is the joy the bride and groom shares with the people around them. Like the enthusiasm in curly hair dude, craving to get married. Like the tears that rolled down someone’s eye when she saw the invisible glow of the night.

e-Cry

Crying is a mean of letting go pressure, stress and soothing your body. Giving it a relieve of pain. Lately, I haven’t done it for awhile, and like any other human being, I have a desire to let it go. I am taking a chance and considering if it works on black and white instead of wet tears down my cheek, ruining my make up.

Life have been pretty much sucked up over the last couple of months even though there are few people who wish to open up for me, which I don’t intend to do. Messy, dark, empty, miserable and shadowy even if no one knows. I am at a stage where everyone is moving so fast down the horizon and I am way too behind to catch up. But somehow I try to yell out “wait up” but either its not loud enough or they simply don’t mind.

I am the kind of person who wouldn’t want to confess being in love or being sad. But since this is crying in words, I would like to spill out a couple of my annoyance stuff. When I feel giddy in the morning, I hold back my tears knowing there is none to call. When I really want to have a cup of espresso in the afternoon, I don’t want to call the people who’ve given me an open invitation. When I want to call and tell my best friend that I am having a fling with another girl’s man, I hesitate because they all will think I am still the bitch I used to be even if I tell them that I am having a heavy heartbeat and blood rushes when with him. When I want to call in a girl’s night in, I know its not going to happen, because I am the only looser single who’s way too mature to understand puppy love.

Is it just wrong to be a great sister, who looks over you? Would you also take me as the sister that you never had. Is it wrong to be a best friend, even after everything we’ve gone through? Would you still take me as a friend and not a slut? Is it wrong to be the brave, young, independent, mature woman and daughter after screwing up my pride? Would you still understand me?

How many of us are there? I wonder? I take people from here and there. Still, none is like me. Either they have everything I have plus something else or they have everything that I don’t have. So jealous I could be. But why do they still come and tell me I am everything a girl wants to be.

All the above, everything I wrote, might not make any sense because a human being cries not to make sense, but to let go off all the rubbish they’ve collected in their head and minds. People cry because from time to time, they want some attention. And readers, don’t judge for being such a cry baby because I AM NOT. Research shows that a woman will cry 5 times monthly, but I haven’t cried for a very long time, in fact, I don’t remember when I cried last.

Sob Sob…. This is my cry in black and white.

Gender Mainstreaming in the Maldivian Job Market

Maldivian society has never neglected the development of women as much as men in challenging careers over the last couple of decades unlike most Muslim societies like ours. This was well understood by the society after establishing an all girl school, Aminiya School in the year 1944. However, social responsibilities of women in the society have led to expected slow development of Women than men in this community.

Some employers hesitate to appoint women into their jobs, however, this is not written in any Code of Ethics or Policies. This is justified in the interview when they ask you, if you can contribute a 100% of self for the job. Usually for men, the answer would be yes. However, women, would often say, I have a kid or due to the living situation, I can only contribute 3 or less hours other than official hours. Parenting a kid, being a great Asian wife for the husband and taking care of the elder parent are responsibilities on the hands of the woman.

As I mentioned cultural and social influence before, the pattern appears to be that more of female staffs work in administrative areas rather than technical areas. This might be mainly due to the fact that technical areas of work are often manual and much field based. Technical work also requires more time, complications in balancing work and personal life.

Not to mention, but also the negative image given out through out the public, if she goes too public. The moment you are a great contributor to work, you become the worst wife ever. The moment you are active in the public, you become the worst parent ever. The moment you socialize a little bit more, you become the worst daughter ever. In fact, most Maldivian women do a great job by balancing both off yet they respect the cultural and social expectations.

Our national regulation states “It is prohibited to discriminate amongst persons carrying out equal work based on race, colour, social standing, religion, political beliefs or affiliation with any political party, sex, marital status, family obligations, and in so far as it does not contravene the provisions herein age or disability”.

In fact, our laws, regulations and rules give all the necessary rights to women to balance off her social and personal responsibility and employment responsibility. With all this protections and restrictions, we can conclude that it is strictly the social beliefs and cultural understanding that limits the gender mainstreaming in the Maldives.

Western prospect on Muslim; is it changing?

Since I am not that of an extreme Muslim, I never faced much of a difficulty in the western world. Mostly for the reason that my colleagues weren’t bothered by my beliefs and I wasn’t bothered by theirs, something called the RESPECT happened. I still took care of them when they were drunk and I still cleaned up their mess after tremendous boy parties (if you know what I mean). I valued what they believed in. I am still learning my religion. I even believe the people who don’t believe it.

While I’m with them, I get the respect I give them. But when I am in public and when people know me as just a Muslim, its different. The very few times, when my unshaven sexy husband stands by me, they all stare at me like; I’m going to blow up myself. Just like I am just another extremist.

However, last couple of years I was hoping that life would change at some point and people would believe in us and respect us. And by people here, I mean people who really don’t know us and puts us in the general understanding of what really might not be true. Mainly the expectation arose from the way we treat you. In our country, we allow you to drink, sex it up, gamble and many more (even when these are extreme sins), mainly because we believe in you and respect your beliefs. So everyday, I hope that this treatment will become mutual and not single sided.

Lately not only I am happy with the quality of Hollywood production but I am also happy with their beliefs. Body of lies made me rethink that not everyone in the western world are as pathetic as most of them. Like for instance either the script writer or the producer of this movie, definitely understood life on the other side. And god, it made me fall in love with Leonardo; a good actor, furthermore a better character. On the real world, I would die to find a man like him; true on the inside, sexy on the outside.

And then a regular television series I am addicted to is 24. When Jack wants help of a Muslim Sheikh to ask for forgiveness for his sins, I simply loved it. When the producer tried to give out the message to the whole wide world that not all Muslims are terrorists or the fact that, Muslims are an easy target to be framed for terrorism, I simply adored it.

Therefore, a million other movies and a million other television series as such gives my sisters and brothers hope for the next day. The hope that we can someday be a part of some Free Trade or maybe Globalisation. The hope that we could find life beyond our borders if necessary. The hope that I can also go cruising with old western couples after my retirement.

Basically, I am hoping that my son would easily get his visa processed to Copenhagen even if I name him “Abdulla Ali”. I am also eager to know if my daughter will be eyed or suspect of wrong doing simply just because she maybe wearing a lovely headscarf and look as innocent as me :P I am just desperately yearning next generation to have an easier life without being judged by their religion or the culture of life.

Bad Boy Magnet

Walking into a bar on a Saturday night you run into all kinds of people on all kinds of purposes. Some of them are there to chill out with their loved ones to get the ease of a busy week. Some of them are there to pick up a girl or a dude, to enjoy the weekend. Some of them are there to just meet people and go home alone.

A lot of people meet in bars, coffee shops, concerts, festivals and parties. I often meet my datable material guys only at concerts, especially rock concerts. But they all turn out to be bad boys. As in they are drug addicts, jobless losers, and sociaholics or somehow unacceptable by the community I know.

But with such guys, I have the time of my life. I laugh, have fun, and secretly be childish. Be in love and loved. Smile every morning knowing it’s going to be a great day. Smile every night knowing it was a great day. But none of my loved ones will accept all the smiles I give the world. They’d just think, these guys are just not worth me. But I say otherwise. There I go; I am a bad boy magnet.

And that’s one big reason why I haven’t started dating the divorced famous vocalists who makes a plenty of money every week from myTunes and records. And that’s why I haven’t gone out for coffee with the only graduate from my own field of work. And that’s why I haven’t yet kissed the respectable lawyer. And that’s why I keep rejecting the calls from the hot looking MBA holder.
As an adult, I know my life could be everything I want with these guys. But I still resist because I don’t have the magnetic pull towards these guys. Not even a bit. What else can I call myself other than a Bad Boy Magnet?

What does your wedding ring mean?

Wedding Rings are like a step ahead in your life. It’s like your academic certificate or physical maturity. Something resembling the change in your life. The achievement in you.

For the person who sees you wearing one, can easily interpret a bit of you from it. That you are married. You are not the kind of person who wishes to forget your ring when you going out for a ride with a hot girl. You are not the kind of guy to switch the ring to another finger, while you take her to a coffee. You are a respectable husband.

So it means huge. There are times when people steal away the beautiful meaning of this. It becomes so sick and pathetic. Especially ladies, they tend to avoid being hit on (if they feel like being left alone for the night), for an innocent reason they wear a fake ring. This is understandable at times, especially after a busy day when you don’t want to worry more about anything else. But again, it is a wedding ring. You got to respect it. Someday you will be wearing it, meaning to spend the rest of your life with someone special, you wish to make compromises that you wouldn’t even make for yourself. You might be doing all that without a vow; it still makes a difference when you are married. So respect the symbol.

There are also times when people turn out to be way too adorable to their spouses and wear a ring they share. This is too cheesy for a girl like me. I’d wear a ring even from the love of my life, only upon making it official. I would accept being called wife only when you say you do. I like to take it step by step. I respect the ring, even if it is fake or real. So I backed off, the moment I saw the ring in your finger, even when I knew you were officially single. But why do you disrespect it by giving me the impression you like me. Why do you still show off the ring to me?

If you deep down believe you are no more in the singles floor, act upon it. If you deep down believe that you are not officially married and available for singles, throw off the ring. Either you can say it’s this or that. Don’t tell it might be this or it might be that. Be definite, so the girl who goes melting to your moves can also be definite of what we are.

A couple in a singles shoe

I heard it on a TV series, a song and even a movie. Never meant to accept as true even a word it said, until tonight when I am sitting at this computer and writing this off.

Singles and Couples. We have diverse languages, whereby, we don’t recognize what they seem to talk. However, I can proudly say, I still remember the nights when I was with this awesome guy and I still respect your single laws and bowed by it. But we both are in different shoes today and I don’t think you understand what I am going through.

Where are the times, I wore the singles shoe and ruined my life for you. Where are the times, I ignored my loved one and missed out on the greatest rides. Where are the times, I never made you feel like your life is miserable as it is. You are just too occupied right now, to understand any of this.

When the day begins, you are like missing the fun girly time we have. In the mid day, you are like waiting restlessly for the time we can laugh and act all brother and sister so we all can forget how the rest of the world points their fingers at us. In the evening, you text me asking me if I am asleep and I lie to you and I don’t why.

I’ve mentioned at least the pattern of five of my closest people above there. They all seem to be blind enough to see around me. I bet none of them knows even a bit of my life now. Worst, I don’t think they even care to know. I just miss the old good times.

If my granny is right, why aren’t all my actions being paid off today? If my mama is right, why aren’t you all treating me the same as I did yesterday. When we switched our shoes, we vowed and smiled and laughed for the happy tomorrows. But today you have totally forgotten what I was to you. The best friend that understood you and never judged you for the worst of your actions. The sister who’d take care of you like my own daughter and respect your beliefs.

It isn’t like a century old. It’s just a couple of months back. Why can’t your memory hold them? Why are you being so self centered and immature. Why have you changed? My last question for anyone is that why does the couples make you feel like the biggest loser in this world, yesterday, today and tomorrow.

Terrorism; a fear of own kind

You wake up into a silent morning, peaceful and the natural beauty that adds up into the perfection of life. Frankly, it’s just a beginning. The day not often goes ahead with the precision. The fears, in our minds and body wake itself only after few minutes. The fear of walking down the road and getting hit by a raced motor bike. The fear of the state screwing up the next generation’s future. The fear of natural and uncontrollable disasters. The fear of screwing up your own life with your own events.

But recently the most awful fear that I had was the terror against our kind. I have seen how people were resistant to socialize with our kind. I have seen how people get off the tube when people like you and I step in. I have seen people get off buses when people like you and I step in. Muslims. People like you and me.

On the last few episodes of 24, the victim of a planned terrorist attack says in the morning, “it is not a good day to be a Muslim”. There are thousands of circumstances whereby I had to keep my mouth shut when it came to religion. Don’t take me wrong, I am sooooo proud to be a Muslim, but there are extremists who make me fear my own moves and own kind on certain days. A normal Muslim, who hasn’t had any waking moments of breaking news of twin tower or London tube bombing or any other confrontations as such, would say it’s pathetic to assume every Muslim is a terrorist. But it’s our human nature and I don’t like to be the Muslim who understands the fear of the western world. I regret to say this, but there are situations whereby I walked out on “brothers and sisters” when they walked into the same tube as I am with a backpack. I am sorry, but I know they might be just like me and might even have a large stock of library due books. Who’d know? There are situations whereby I reported suspense, when “family” tries to act weird at terminals. I am sorry, but I know they might be just like me, either fear of heights or panicking of our own kind. It’s just an out of control fear within me. Not knowing which brother to trust. Not knowing which sister to fly with.

Killing innocent people is not something I believe in. Causing unnecessary damage is not something I believe in. Not only I don’t believe in those miserable sick events taken on the false name of protecting religion, I totally disrespect those acts. I believe in doing things within my scale to protect my religion and beliefs. I believe in paving the right path to friends and family. I believe in ensuring your day is clean as pure white. I believe in doing a little bit more to be faithful to yourself, your parents and religion. I believe in peace and resolutions. I truly believe in Religion, Islam; the way of life.

05.05.05

The rain had stopped when it saw the love of the most beautiful two brides and grooms down the starlight. The planktons paved a beautiful road to heaven. The engine went silent in your ears playing their favourite music. It was simply perfect. I can assure none on this earth would have had such a natural night or beautiful night.

So on the occasion of that night, here’s a toast to the couple that stood up strong despite rain or sun. Who went through much than we all can imagine. Who are the most beautiful people inside out. Who are the best of human kind. A toast to my loving brother and sister in law (the sister that I never had). Mwah! I know much more is ahead and I don't question even a second for you both. May god bless you both!

Hmphs, Huhs and the meaningful / less Sighs

What am I to do when you give me a sigh? What am I to think when you give me a huh?

There are a million sound that comes out of our mouths and sounds like a trillion meaning. This gives the listener and even the speaker (or should I say sound maker) a different meaning every other time. So if our conversations became storybook conversations, the author would describe what kind of a sigh was that. For instance “Jonathan sighed heavily as he was exhausted from the busy day, giving a visible expression of that no more work can be done properly tonight”

So where is the author in our day to day life? Does his “huh” today means a question mark or what? When life is so confusing and complicated as it is normally, why more things in life do makes it more confusing. Last week, I was all confused and almost had nightmares because an “hmphs” was mistaken by me. At the end it was not a sign of annoying, it seems like it was an almost silent laughter.

These are originally used for real conversations, which later on became common on internet chats, texts, email and even letters. I assume that this was done mainly because the pathetic internet lovers or text addicts wanted to make it feel more real (no offence to any of the internet lovers or text addicts because I, myself is one of them).

I hope none of my huhs, hmphs, hmmmms, sighs and more have hurt people or confused people for which I did not mean for. I hope I have not taken any of the huhs, hmphs, hmmmms, sighs and more on an opposite sense.