The N-Word July 20, 2008
Many of you are probably thinking the obvious, but it it not that obvious. In fact, it is the least mentioned n-word. Nigger: if you were thinking of the ugly racism to which blacks have been subjected to throughout modern history. Nuclear: if you were thinking of an apartheid regime like Israel threatening to wipe the Persians off the face of the map. Neither. Nazi: the privileged n-word that is unmentionable. Celso Ammorim, Brazil’s Foreign Minister, has said the unmentionable. That one word has “rocked” WTO talks. The AP reports:
Brazilian Foreign Minister Celso Amorim said the U.S., Europe and other wealthy economies have so frequently misrepresented the talks launched in Qatar’s capital in 2001 that public perception has become totally warped.
“Goebbels used to say if you repeat a lie several times it becomes a truth,” Amorim told reporters at the World Trade Organization, where top negotiators from over two dozen countries are expected Monday for the official start of the talks.
This is no secret. Wealthy economies habitually employ propaganda to sustain the status quo. I am not defending power, but arguing that if tomorrow Brazil or India (or its neighbours) would be major players on the international stage, they would not hesitate from making life difficult for other countries either and would be just as ruthless. To give you one example, take a country like Pakistan which has been making life hell for Afghanistan by outsourcing terrorism. The status quo of wealthy economies is built around an imperial alliance. But it is not that difficult to consider the reaction of some after the allusion to the Nazis. Let me start with a question: why do some words, wrought in blood, hold more meaning than others? It is for precisely the same reason that some people matter more than others. When “nigger” is not that bad as long as you are the majority in a white or brown state, “nuclear” is not that bad because your country has nuclear weapons and bullies others, then why should “Nazi” be bad? Yes, it bellies the memory of millions of Jews who suffered terribly. But what about “nigger”, which bellies the memory of all those blacks who suffered at the hands of Asians, Arabs and Europeans. And who underwent Holocausts of their own. Or take the word “nuclear”. What about all those hundreds of thousands of Japanse innocents in Hiroshima and Nagasaki who were burned to nothing? Because some guy in a rich suit said it was preferable that some people mattered more than others. Now we have wealthy economies telling us that some words matter more than others. How about “debt relief” to poor countries? It’s two words but they don’t hurt. Not as long you are a guy in a rich suit blown away by words without knowing their meaning.
Second Year First Semester Results July 12, 2008
Today I received my second year first semester results. Technically, it’s my second semester because I joined in the second half. What can I say? I got 83%, 77% and 75%. Not too bad. I wasn’t expecting an A in that particular subject but in another one. Oh well. Anyway, you know I wouldn’t be writing this if I got all Bs and Cs like in the first year. Very bad.
Photo by SMN.
Changes July 12, 2008
Izzy Mo: calligrapher/artist, blogging wizard and founder of IAS, is off to Dubai. It’s kind of sad but there’s no holding back the flood-gates of Change. It is always good. Waiting to hear about sister Izzy’s adventures in the East.
Aunty Selma is in the UK. She is the bravest person I know and a good friend.
I’m thinking of submitting an application to volunteer for World Vision in Australia. I like the anarchic sound of it. World. And there’s that other thing: I don’t have a part-time job. So why not volunteer for something positive? That’s exactly what I’ll do.
Following a three year hiatus, I’ve begun writing the book again. But I’ve done nothing for the past week. In a week or so a new semester will start. Quite looking forward to it, particularly the elective subject: Writing Fiction. Perhaps there is a way to remedy the problem of procrastination and inconsistency which ruins my future writing career. It might seem childish but I’ve planned a couple of things. My dream has always been to travel to other places. No place has held more enchantment for me than China. Love China. Well, I hate its government and policies, just as I hate the rest of the world’s governments. But I love China, that’s the end of the matter. Rural China. Also entertained the idea of courting a good Hui girl, if I am not stranded in Love by then :-?. There’s a large possibility that I will remain a bachelor though. It’ll be nice to settle down in China. Of course, it’ll be great for my writing, too. Would like to travel to new places, meet new people and write new stories. Want to write books about everyone which can be read by everyone. After uni (preferably an honours degree in journalism), I want to travel to the Australian outback and salute the Aboriginal people in a piece of writing. And I want my books to make people happy. But most of all, I want to make people think. Not deep stuff which is rumoured to be fathomed only by so-called intellectuals, but what is fun, passionate and in English. Yes, English. I love the language. And everyone’s learning it. I also want to solve the few problems I have with the English language, like some its discourse on non-Caucasian people. For example, consider these expressions: “black heart”, “black sheep”, “blackmail” and “black art”. They all signify that “black” is bad. This flows into the wider cultural discourse and the supremacy of the “white”. Caught between the two shades (brown; gray in melancholy), I have a black heart and very proud of it. It’s no different than any other heart. So when I am a writer insha’Allah, you’ll often hear me say stuff like that and shock the establishment worldwide.
Dreams come before Changes.
The Tragedy of Diego Garcia July 5, 2008
http://www.refusingtokill.net/Chagos/chagos.htm
http://www.antiwar.com/orig/pilger.php?articleid=3702
http://www.greenleft.org.au/2005/623/34937
http://www.dg.navy.mil/web/
The Night I Ran/Brave Little Girl June 21, 2008
Sometimes, when one experiences something terrible it is a reaction to make a joke of it. I did so the night I ran. It was ten when I was exiting the railway station subway last Sunday when coarse speech, fertile with the f-word, ensued from behind me. In a quick glance I ascertained a large youth, probably on drugs, walking with a little girl in his tow. I didn’t think about it much and continued to walk across the road.
“Hey, you! I’m talking to you!”
I kept walking. I thought he was addressing his partner.
I reached the pavement of the street along which I had to walk for another fifteen minutes to reach my lodgings.
“Somebody help!” the little girl cried from the road.
I stopped. I waited, though any possible confrontation which such a specimen would undoutedly leave me spreadeagle and battered on the ground. I just felt it a moral duty to speak up.
There were a gang of boys at the bus stand. Usually they can be observed strutting the streets in their shorts; here, they refused to act.
The large youth and the little girl were now on the pavement with me. I was still waiting to ask the girl if she was all right.
“Please take me back,” she pleaded with him.
From his reply, I gathered they were siblings. I turned my back and resumed walking.
“Tonight is your last night.”
That froze me in my tracks.
I looked back, very much afraid for the little girl. I had the number of Crime Stoppers on my phone.
Then I saw him leaving the girl and advancing toward me. So many things were racing through my mind that I was unable to move.
Until the girl shouted: “Dude, run!”
I ran. I didn’t run very fast, because the shock of the moment had paralysed my cognitive centre, but natural instinct propelled me forward. After a while I stopped. I couldn’t make them out very clearly because the street-lights were hazy in the fog. I waved to the little girl, half in my mind.
When I got home, I thanked Almighty Allah. And wished that one day that little girl would find a happy home.
Ten Things I’ve Been Doing Lately June 19, 2008
1. Fleeing from violent drug addicts in the railway station.
2. Sleeping. Dreaming about you.
3. Watching The Real Adventures of Jonny Quest.
4. Jungle-walking. If no sight of bush or creek, grass does suffice.
5. Trying to read Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. One of the seven entities to whom Rowling has dedicated the book is what we call the loyal fan. Not one myself and considering this is my first Rowling book, I couldn’t care less. However, I feel a sort of reverence for this lady who united all the world’s children and earned an astronomical amount of dosh.
6. Waiting to see the neighbourhood cat again, the one with the bushy black tail.
7. As you may have deduced from my vain attempts at reading, there is also a part of me that is interested in writing. The most important thing is to lift a pen. Not much of that happening.
8. Procrastinating. Let’s start with the task at hand. I have to write a 30-50 word bio for a submission to a literary magazine right now.
9. Communicating with old and new friends alike with a woozy sherbet in hand.
10. Making lots of du’as. I need it!
Muscular Liberalism and Indian Fascism June 19, 2008
What do they have in common?
http://golmal.pickledpolitics.com/2007/09/17/muscular-liberalism-and-indian-fascism/
Three Lines for Buffy Sainte-Marie June 13, 2008
Three lines for my favourite musician:
Her words are poetry.
Her voice is like corals in the sea.
Her name is Buffy Sainte-Marie.
What I like about Buffy Sainte-Marie of whom former US President LBJ said “her music should be suppressed” is that her spiritual beauty encompasses her music. She is also one of the few people in the music industry who believe in the Creator. Buffy’s loyalty to the indigenous peoples of the Americas in songs like “Now that the Buffalo’s Gone”, “Indian Cowboy in the Rodeo”, “Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee”, “My Country ‘Tis of Thy People You’re Dying”, “Soldier Blue” and “Moonshot” is an example for other coloured artists. You’ve got to listen to her to believe me. I’m thinking of writing a review of her music in the forthcoming edition of the uni magazine.
“Hearts and Minds” June 5, 2008
I have heard them talk about “hearts and minds”
Even whilst their actions are unkind.
I want to blow a sail for Mom.
Be like the wind, dance on the rooftops.
I listen to David Rovics and Nina Simone.
The world is crazy, I’ve seen it is.
I can’t sleep in the night but the stars still burn.
You know I love to kneel in peace
For the One, it’s true love and bliss.
But they still talk about “hearts and minds”.
The city is soaking in the cold rain;
Life is fleeting like paper boats in the drain.
I remember the dark foyer as I walked;
Rain splashing on the green tin roof above my head.
Memories of when I wasn’t too keen.
Oh Lord, how I miss those days!
That feeling of unearned silence.
The world was at peace, birds were playing.
I was a child with a heart and mind.
No time for Fascism or Reformation.
Love is best when it is blind.
