tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23596944592214646052024-02-07T03:23:09.220+00:00Hijabi Hippie HypoWhat Nuby did and what Nuby did next...
Life with a malfuctioning thyroidhijabi hippie hypohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03980411567308390623noreply@blogger.comBlogger102125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2359694459221464605.post-16251113008540958322012-02-26T16:23:00.000+00:002012-02-26T16:23:09.892+00:00Thank you and goodbyeThey say that all good things come to an end, and, with that in mind, it's time for me to bid farewell to this blog.<br />
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I have a number of reasons for leaving. Firstly, this blog was set up in order for me to come to terms with my hypothyroidism. This blog has achieved its purpose in that sense in that I've accepted and come to terms with my thyroid disease, although at first I had many frustrations regarding it.<br />
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Secondly, I've reverted back to being interested in politics & current affairs, especially since I joined Twitter. The posts on here regarding feminism especially have meant that this blog had a sudden change in direction, and I was unsure as to what was next for this blog. I have been cotemplating this for a while, but I feel now's the right time to move away from this blog and start a new one, hosted by Wordpress. So I'm not disappearing from the blogosphere completely, and if you like, you can join me over at<a href="http://noorulannshahid.wordpress.com/"> http://noorulannshahid.wordpress.com/ </a>, which is already up and running. <br />
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I also think that Blogger is a space for personal, journal-type blogging, whilst a lot of people who blog news/politics use a Wordpress one. So that's another reason for my switch over. Also, our student newspaper called PULP recently came to a sudden halt, so it's given me the perfect opportunity to start my own Wordpress blog that I can really focus on.<br />
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I'm not deleting this blog- I just won't be posting here any longer. I've had so much fun getting to know you all and receiving comments from you. I'll still be keeping up with your blogs (hopefully), and if you want to, I'll hopefully hear from you on my new blog.hijabi hippie hypohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03980411567308390623noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2359694459221464605.post-66967899110126079712012-02-02T22:08:00.000+00:002012-02-02T22:08:41.747+00:00Book review: Reclaiming the F Word, the new feminist movementI finished reading this book aaages ago but I'm finally getting round to blogging a review of it now. The book was written by <a href="https://twitter.com/#!/cathredfern">Catherine Redfern</a>, the founder of The F Word <a href="http://www.thefword.org.uk/">website</a>, and <a href="http://www.derby.ac.uk/staff-search/dr-kristin-aune">Kristin Aune</a>, a lecturer in sociology at the University of Derby.<br />
This book is excellent at introducing the concept of feminism, why it is relevant, and why it is being reclaimed etc. It is a good starting point for all "new found feminists" as it provides an overview to the various issues surrounding feminism. I feel that I should have perhaps read this book before <a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2011/08/feminism-series-equality-illusion-book.html">I read The Equality Illusion</a>, which explored certain issues deeper. <br />
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The great thing about the book is that it is littered with quotes, statistics and examples, and each chapter ends with a "Take Action!" box that lists a few easy activism tips, thereby encouraging the reader to acknowledge what is wrong but also take action, which is just brilliant. <br />
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I feel all the issues were written about in a well-rounded and unbiased way, and whereas The Equality Illusion was more graphic and shocking, The F Word presents the issues and encourages activism. <br />
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I think that the topic of religion and feminism was explored brilliantly, as the authors explained that there are different types of religious feminsts and categorized them into four sections:<br />
<ol><li><strong>Religious Reformists</strong>- <em>"are liberals who seek equal opportunities for men and women within religious traditions. They don't want to revolutionise styles of worship, reject sacred texts or change the gender of deities. But they believe religious texts and doctrines have been misinterpreted in a way that disadvantages women, hindering their participation in religion and its leadership strucutres."</em> This is definitely the type of religious feminsts I identify with. </li>
<li><strong>Religious Revisionists</strong> - <em>"believe that expanding women's roles within the existing structures isn't enough. They look for a liberating core within their religion, reject the rest, and believe a deeper transformation is required, of religious structures and society."</em></li>
<li><strong>Spiritual Revolutionaries</strong>- <em>"are highly critical of institutional religion, and reject religion in its conventional forms."</em> They distinguish religion from spirituality </li>
<li><strong>Secular Feminists</strong>- <em>"include those who want to separate religion from the state, and those who have abandoned religion and spirituality completely."</em> </li>
</ol>I think though, despite this, there are a lot of negative comments that get directed towards myself and others who identify themselves as Muslim AND feminst, as people seem to think that the two cannot coexist. I think I'll address this issue in a separate blog post, otherwise this one will be too long!<br />
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I also particularly liked the chapters on sexism, and advertising and the media, and the crucial role it plays in the repression of women. <br />
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I particularly enjoyed this quote in the last chapter "Feminism Reclaimed" :<br />
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I will leave you with a section from the last chapter, which I found to be quite poignant:<br />
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"(...) feminism is a survival mechanism. It assures you that you have a right to live your life the way you want and imagine a brighter future for the world. It prompts you to question the status quo, rather than assuming that the way things are is the best they can be. Feminism assures you that you're not alone, that the problems you experience are shared by others, and that, as a woman your concerns are important. <br />
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But feminsim isn't just about "making us feel better". It's about collective action. So, second, feminism encourages us to consider the wider impact of our actions. In other words, it's not just about us, but is about ending sexism and liberating everyone from centuries of oppression based on gender. <br />
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Feminism enables us to link together the problesms highlighted in this book and see them not as coincidences but as part of a wider pattern of sexism underpinning our entire culture- some might refer this as patriarchy or attribute it to capitalism. Indeed, as we've been writing the chapters, it's been hard to decide how to split the themes up, snce they seem to seep into one another. These issues are not accidental or individual problems- they are a pattern of structural inequality."hijabi hippie hypohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03980411567308390623noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2359694459221464605.post-53216080841898102972012-01-17T11:51:00.000+00:002012-01-17T11:51:55.985+00:00Angry and frustratedI found out on Friday that my most recent blood test showed that my TSH is<a href="http://www.ehow.com/how-does_5502232_causes-suppressed-tsh.html"> suppressed</a> and I have too much free T4. Basically I'm now HYPER-thyroid. Too much thyroxine. <br />
Except, this time it wasn't the Doctor who told me to increase my dose. The blood test before this one showed that my levels were OK- but they could be improved slightly. I was indecisive at first, but, decided to take the risk because I *could* feel better, so I decided to increase my dose (from 125 mcg to 150). <br />
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I thought I felt better, but in hindsight, all the signs were there. It was too much. I put it down to uni stress, and the fact that I had a lot on, but at so many points in Nov/Dec I felt like I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. <br />
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I'm frustrated because I now have to alternate between 125 and 150 every day for two months. I hate alternating, as you feel so up and down and just all over the place. I blame myself because I made the decision to increase my dose, selfishly, just to see if I could feel better, and I ended up swinging from OK to Hyper. <br />
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I'm angry that I keep getting it wrong and I either swing too low or too high. There's only a couple (at most) of months in the year where my levels are "normal". I'm angry because I have to deal with this for the rest of my life. It would help if I began to recognise the signs of when my thyroid isn't right quicker. I've had this for almost four years now and I still can't get it right. I can normally recognise if I'm hypo but I'm not that familiar with the hyper symptoms. <br />
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I'm angry because this could continue to scupper my chances of academic success and getting a first-class degree. I was so angry to the point where, after receiving the news, I really wanted to punch somebody in the face while I was waiting at the bus stop to get home. And I'm not a violent person.<br />
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What can I do now other than alternate my doses as the GP suggested, and wait till the blood test in March? I just have to keep plodding along and try to get myself through this- because nobody else will do it for me.hijabi hippie hypohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03980411567308390623noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2359694459221464605.post-52029319360997093622011-12-26T19:06:00.001+00:002011-12-26T19:06:56.451+00:00The fine line between advising and judgingI still remember quite vividly the high school PHSE lesson we were taught regarding nasiha. <a href="http://www.livingislam.org/nasiha.html">Nasiha</a> means giving good counsel and advice. We concluded by saying that nasiha should be given thoughtfully and honestly, so as not to embarass the person, but to sincerely advise them on something. We were always taught that the <em><a href="http://islamonline-qa.blogspot.com/2009/11/believer-is-mirror-to-another-believer.html">believers are like mirrors to one another</a></em>, and should correct each other's faults (in an appropriate manner). <br />
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So why is it that now, I don't receive nasiha from my sisters in Islam? Why am I scared to give nasiha? I know there's a fine line between being judgmental and sincerely giving advice, but sometimes I feel I should say something but I don't know <em>how</em>. I feel it's not my place to say anything, because the general consensus seems to be that if you even try to kindly correct somebody, they'll jump to conclusions and think you're judging them. It's even harder to give nasiha to a "stranger" or somebody you don't really <em>know</em>. <br />
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Of course, Nasiha doesn't have to be regarding religion, it can relate to anything. I often hear that if you see another believer doing something wrong, it's your duty to give nasiha, because perhaps the other person isn't aware of what they're doing is wrong, plus, you'll get questioned if you didn't try to help them. <br />
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Now, I'm not saying that you should go all <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b4Q1vHQxsss">Haram Police</a> on people and issue fatwas left, right and centre. There's a difference between saying "that's haram and you're going straight to hell!" and "look, as your fellow sister in Islam, I'm concerned that what you're doing is wrong." I'm also not saying that you should deliberately set out to correct other people's faults instead of your own, in fact, you should do the opposite. But a little, kind, sisterly advice wouldn't go amiss. <br />
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I'm interested to know what you think: have you given nasiha and what's your stance on this issue?hijabi hippie hypohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03980411567308390623noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2359694459221464605.post-11904589565650928762011-12-17T23:24:00.001+00:002011-12-17T23:25:53.107+00:00When she was just a girl, she expected the world, but it flew away from her reach, so she ran away in her sleepI want to share this short powerful video with you, it's called "It only takes a girl": <br />
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It made me so grateful for the gift of education. I've always appreciated that my Dad placed such an importance on education and doing well at school, particularly because his sisters (my aunties) in Pakistan weren't given the opportunity to go to school whilst he could. <br />
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The video reminded me of this quote:<br />
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<em>"Women are one half of society which gives birth to the other half so it is as if they are the entire society." Ibn Al-Qayyim</em>hijabi hippie hypohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03980411567308390623noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2359694459221464605.post-55040718224016837362011-12-03T15:57:00.000+00:002011-12-03T15:57:48.523+00:00Conversation between strangersWould you and do you speak to complete strangers? I only ask because, whilst at work in the shop yesterday, something <em>strange</em> happened. <br />
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I could see him approaching the till from the corner of my eye. I can't remember what I was doing, if anything (the shop is really quiet in the morning). He stood near the counter and stared at me. At this point, I couldn't tell what he was doing so I reached out my hand so he'd give me the bottle of orange juice he was clutching.<br />
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<em>"Wait a minute."</em> he said, and continued staring. I was a bit freaked out at this point. We can sometimes get <em>weird</em> people come in the shop, and the only barrier I have is the counter. <br />
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He then began to attempt to pronounce my name from my name badge in his strong African accent. It then became clear to me that he was staring at my name badge all this time. All the while, my hand was still outstretched. <br />
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<em>"You are looking very nice today,"</em> he said. I blushed and looked down. I don't know how to take a compliment at the best of times, so I didn't say anything. <br />
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He looked at his friend who was stood a few yards away from the counter:<br />
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<em>"She doesn't want to talk to me, she just wants my money! I tried to tell her that she's lookin nice but she just want my money!"</em> He joked. <br />
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I smiled awkwardly and joked: <em>"Just give me the money and nobody gets hurt!"</em> I gave him his 1p change and he asked if I was from Kenya (?!), and what I was studying. He then laughed and left. I couldn't help but place this experience at the top of my "weirdest encounters in the shop" list- which is, of course, a mental list.<br />
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But it got me thinking. I was discussing this with my fellow editors at <a href="http://mmupulp.wordpress.com/">PULP</a> on Wednesday, two of whom are originally from London and said that if a stranger started talking to you on a bus in the South, you'd label them as weird, but here, in the North, it is quite common for a stranger to just spark up a conversation, especially on public transport.<br />
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Perhaps we are too quick to label such people as "weird", but since we lead such busy lives, it's pretty rare that a customer will stop for a chat, unless it's about football tickets, in which case I shout the word "Mike!" (the name of my boss). They usually just want to pay for their stuff, get some change and go. I sometimes do talk to strangers, usually shop assisstants, and I'd normally be complimenting their jewellery or something. <br />
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Do <em>you</em> talk to strangers?hijabi hippie hypohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03980411567308390623noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2359694459221464605.post-83298618121780916252011-11-05T19:53:00.000+00:002011-11-05T19:53:35.218+00:00Eid Ul Adha reflectionsIn some ways, the celebration of Eid Ul Fitr is easier to explain to non-Muslims; it marks the end of month-long fasting for Ramadan. Eid Ul Adha (or "big" Eid) often catches me unawares as it's usually during term-time. I often have to remind myself and others of the historical significance of the second Eid. I always make an effort to fast every year on the day before Eid, on the 9th of Dhul Hijjah, which is dubbed the Day of Arafah, as Pilgrims on Hajj descend on the plain of Arafat.<br />
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The significance of the Plain of Arafat is that it was the place in which the Prophet Muhammad (SAWS) delivered his notable last sermon. During the day, Hajj Pilgrims offer sincere supplication and ask for God's forgiveness. The Plain of Arafat is also the site where all of humanity will be resurrected and questioned on the day of judgement. <br />
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This Eid also embodies the theme of sacrifice; how Prophet Ibrahim was prepared to sacrifice his son for the sake of Allah, which is why animals are slaughtered and the meat is shared during the Eid celebrations. The Prophet showed strength in fighting off the whisperings of the Devil, which is why Pilgrims throw stones at pillars. Another message from the historical significance of this Eid is to put your wholehearted faith in and trust that God will provide for you, even if it appears that you are destitute, you are not alone as God is always there for you when your mortal counterparts might let you down. <br />
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The fast on the Day of Arafah today was much more difficult that I thought, but Alhamdulillah, it was manageable. The fast itself embodied a personal sacrifice; forgoing food and drink for the sake of God's pleasure and mercy. It is said that fasting on this day means that previous and future annual sins are forgiven, and I pray that all those who fasted today's sins are forgiven. <br />
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I was always taught that this Eid was not about giving presents or money; but more about reflecting upon God's mercy, and thinking about the historical importance of what we are truly celebrating. It's about celebrating the end of Hajj, where millions of Muslims from all different ethnicites unite. Eid should also be a time for us to remember those less fortunate than us in countries all over the world, those suffering and those facing injustice. We should also pray that God invites us to Hajj when it is our time.<br />
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Whatever you are doing tomorrow, have a great Eid: Eid Mubarak! <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp_f0hOP5MFMcSTk-z9K_DlGYGgkcmN1Rs4zMbc8Ev92QwppO7kJMy3CIax6OAhRp33TQjI-T-9QJ6iI4yDLKzN9Y5zv4LDHQJKnasF3WAv7LcfWWUxbzGAdfliwaBoH476YJwD_c8s4uj/s1600/Eid-Adha.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp_f0hOP5MFMcSTk-z9K_DlGYGgkcmN1Rs4zMbc8Ev92QwppO7kJMy3CIax6OAhRp33TQjI-T-9QJ6iI4yDLKzN9Y5zv4LDHQJKnasF3WAv7LcfWWUxbzGAdfliwaBoH476YJwD_c8s4uj/s400/Eid-Adha.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>hijabi hippie hypohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03980411567308390623noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2359694459221464605.post-716214813139541362011-10-30T16:44:00.001+00:002011-10-30T16:48:18.952+00:00I wanna sing, I wanna shout, I wanna scream till the words dry outIt's a Sunday. Relax day for some, but not for me. I've been up since the morning, I've sent off an application for an internship, I'm currently editing articles for <em><a href="http://mmupulp.wordpress.com/">PULP</a></em> (our student newspaper), I've got to finish revising for a stats test tomorrow, I need to write a type up a letter to someone... the list is endless.<br />
The last thing I should be doing right now is blogging. But I wanted to update you guys. My life is pretty busy but I'm enjoying it. I'd rather keep busy than have time to put things off. I think being busy has made me more productive. It can at times feel like I'm jumping through hoops frantically, but at the same time, I feel like I'm in my element.<br />
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I'm clearly very behind on blog reading, which I may endeavour to catch up on as and when I can. The thing about blogging is that you can't just blog, you have to read other people's blogs and comment, and in doing so, publicise your own blog. I'm not bothered with how many people follow me, but it's always good to network. But at the moment, I have no time to do this.<br />
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I have a new job; I work in our student's union shop. I absolutely love it; it's so much better than my last job, and no two shifts are the same. It's really helped to strengthen my communication skills, which is always good. <em><a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2011/04/lets-pretend-he-wasnt-socially-awkward.html">This</a></em> feels like a different person now. It's weird! I'm glad I'm not like that anymore.<br />
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I'm part of the Economics Society that we are collectively trying to resurrect, I mentor younger students who struggle with maths, I'm part of our team for the Universities' Business Challenge... and somehow I manage to squeeze going to the gym in there too. <br />
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Yesterday, I attended a science festival with my sisters. Here's a picture of me next to a boulder that travelled from the Lake District to Manchester during the ice age. Pretty cool, no? I like the picture because in comparison to the boulder, I feel really small and insignificant; which is humbling and refreshing.<br />
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That's all for now.hijabi hippie hypohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03980411567308390623noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2359694459221464605.post-1070799839527900022011-10-05T22:02:00.001+01:002011-10-05T22:22:24.040+01:00A personal breakthroughI know I haven't blogged in forever. I'm back at university now, and started a new job so just been settling in. Plus my notebook that I normally blog from became realllyy slow, so just today I received a shiny new laptop, Alhamdulillah, so blogging should resume as normal God willing. I'm also Politics editor of our student newspaper, so I'm busy writing and editing for that. Once we have content up online, I'll notify you all of the link.<br />
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Anway- this post. Today I did something I haven't done for over a decade.<br />
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<em>I wore denim</em><br />
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<em>I wore jeans</em><br />
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<em>Jeans on my legs!!</em><br />
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You might wear jeans every day. But for me, this is a personal breakthrough, because I haven't worn jeans in <strong>over ten years</strong>.<br />
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Why? When I was about eight, my Mum banned me from wearing jeans as I kept putting on weight. She said if I continued putting on weight she'd ban me, and she did. I was really upset but being a kid, there was nothing I could do. <br />
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Growing up, I looked at the jeans in department stores longingly, begging my Mum to let me show her they'd look alright on me. But it was no use. <br />
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So for more than ten years, almost twelve years (I think) I haven't felt denim on my legs. I've worn black trousers or skirts instead. Which is fine. But part of me always longed for denim. <br />
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Some of you may know that last year, I began my <a href="http://overcoming-obstacles.blogspot.com/">weight loss journey</a>. I've lost almost 2 stone so far and have dropped a dress size. Two weeks ago, I decide to bite the bullet, and try on some jeans. I tried some on in Primark but none of them were any good and I became a little disheartened. A few days later, I tried another store and tried on almost every style of jeans. I bought a pair of <em><a href="http://www.peacocks.co.uk/product/index.jsp?productId=5065961&prodFindSrc=search">boyfriend jeans</a></em> from Peacocks as they seemed to fit quite well.<br />
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I was so apprehensive about telling my Mum I'd bought the jeans. I almost didn't want to. She was so shocked at why I'd wanted to wear them. I explained to her and showed her that they did not make me look "fat". My Mum thinks that jeans don't suit overweight people as it makes them look fatter. I don't get her logic. Anyway, she said they looked ok but wasn't exactly like "yeahh they look nice!" Anyway, I asked her to adjust them for me as they were too long.<br />
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And today, I decided to finally wear them. I can't really explain to you how I felt. <br />
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<em>I felt free. </em><br />
<em>I felt liberated. </em><br />
<em>I felt normal.</em><br />
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I kept looking at people's legs to see what they were wearing, and almost 90% or more were wearing jeans. I didn't mind wearing trousers but I felt they are too smart; jeans are more casual. My new jeans are a reminder of the weight I've lost, as a celebratory reminder, and also remind me of the journey I still have ahead of me. I'm proud of myself for getting this far, and this achievement should encourage me to continue to lose weight.<br />
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On a different note, I never expected that jeans would keep you so warm!hijabi hippie hypohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03980411567308390623noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2359694459221464605.post-55281276545075643602011-09-16T18:00:00.000+01:002011-09-16T18:00:08.553+01:00It's me against the musicI've been meaning to blog this for several months now, but the words just won't seem to string together coherently enough. They may not even do it this time. But here's for trying.<br />
<br />
<blockquote><i>They say music can alter moods and talk to you<br />
Well can it load a gun up for you , and cock it too?<br />
Well if it can, then the next time you assault a dude<br />
Just tell the judge it was my fault and i'll get sued</i></blockquote><blockquote>Eminem- Sing for the moment</blockquote><br />
Growing up, music and singing was always existenent in my life. From nursery rhymes, to Destiny's Child, to naats, and channel U, I'd always been exposed to a variety of songs. Our household carried on the tradition, that oddly enough, my Mother used to do with her Pakistani migrant parents- of watching top of the pops every week. We also used to listen to the radio every Sunday evening, without fail, to hear the top 40 songs and find out who was number one. In the mornings, I'd get changed to the radio as I found it made me more energised for the day ahead. I remember printing out lyrics to my favourite songs, sticking them on my wall and memorising them. I remember singing into a hairbrush with my two sisters to Atomic Kitten as if we were a girl-group; not knowing what<i> "turn me on"</i> meant, yet not caring. We used to buy cassette tapes before CDs came along; and then we'd buy CDs. Then along came the digital revolution, and I can still recall the excitement when I opened the box and lifted up the iPod shuffle. I was limited to one download a week- as the iTunes account was linked to my Dad's direct debit. Then along came <i>limewire</i> and other sources that enabled you to download music for free, which of course pleased my Dad.<br />
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The iPod went with me everywhere; I was always plugged in. Whenever I was cooking, eating, reading, doing homework; music was always there. I remember putting the radio on whenever I was washing up or doing chores; it made them a little more bearable. I became very reliant on and addicted to music. It was as if I couldn't function without it. Music has always had such a profound emotional connection with me; something that I cannot comprehend or explain fully. When I was feeling down a sad song would be on repeat, as the musician describes their sadness in a way that the listener can relate to. In the same way, a happy song could expel any negative vibes in no more than three minutes, and lift moods in a way nothing or nobody else could. The rhyming lyrics, the magical melodies and the pounding beats reflected the rhythm of life. <i>My life</i>.<br />
<br />
Needless to say, like all teenagers I guess, the main genre I listened to was rap/hip-hop; but music being such a big part of my life from a very young age, I had an eclectic and varied taste in music, for which I was often complimented. Growing up, I was a very angry, confused and moody teenager; this may be "normal", but it's something I can now attribute to having a dormant undiagnosed disease; hypothyroidism. Yet no matter who let me down in life, however I was feeling; music was always there for me, almost as a shoulder to cry on.<br />
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Over the years, however, music evolved. It was integrated with foul language, innunedo's and was becoming more and more sexual. By the time I was 14, almost every song was about relationships, sex or break-ups. The industry was becoming tired and saturated. We couldn't watch TOTP as a family anymore, not without constant flicking the channel over. We now had to turn the radio off or switch the station if something "rude" played; as we now understood the different themes within music. But we were shunned from the sexualisation of music; since it was mainly in music videos in which sex manifested itself. When we moved house, we didn't bother getting any sattelite channels and therefore weren't exposed to any music videos. But of course- along came YouTube. And along came MySpace- in which I discovered alternative songs to the mainstream rubbish blaring from the speakers.<br />
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This obsession and reliance on music countinued up until I was eighteen. In short, the change came about because I discovered the "truth" about the music industry; how music is used to communicated subliminal ideologies and messages, and how we should unplug ourselves and listen to the beat of nature rather than the sythesised stuff we are all too familiar with. I also realised that music isn't exactly permissible in Islam. Since then, I tried to give up music completely- and managed to, for about 3-4 months, but of course, being the <i>"addict" </i>I was, I had withdrawal symptoms and often relapsed.<br />
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I now don't make a conscious effort to stop listening to music altogether, but a lot has changed with regards to my relationship with music. I don't care about who's number one anymore, I dislike mainstream "pop" music, I can do household chores without having the radio on, and I can go out without my headphones glued to my ears. I do, however, make an effort to listen to songs with real messages; Lowkey, the Narcicyst, Immortal Technique etc, but sometimes my ears prefer a mindless synthesised beat, which is fine. I always make a conscious effort not to listen to music during Ramadan at all- which has gradually become easier. I'm really happy that my little brother won't be brought up in a house where music is so important, especially since modern music contains themes unsuitable for young ears.<br />
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I now only listen to music mainly in the gym, and occasional Youtubing here and there- I am proud of myself and also glad it doesn't have such an impact on my life now as it used to. <br />
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<br />
<b>Further links</b><br />
- <a href="http://www.spring.org.uk/2007/03/seven-ways-music-influences-mood.php"><i>Seven ways music influences mood</i></a><br />
<a href="http://www.2knowmyself.com/How_music_affects_people_moods"><i>-How music affects people's moods</i></a>hijabi hippie hypohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03980411567308390623noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2359694459221464605.post-60673308537365285342011-09-01T21:58:00.000+01:002011-09-01T21:59:36.697+01:00Eid Ul Fitr 2011: in picturesEid Mubarak (even though it's a little late) to my Muslim followers, readers & one-time-stumble-uponers! Hope you all had a blessed day.<br />
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My Eid was pleasant, and <a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2010/09/eid-ul-fitr-2010-in-pictures.html"><i>like last year</i></a>, (and so I don't bore you with small details), this blog post is all about pictures:<br />
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<b>THE FOOD </b><br />
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<i>The best part of the day. Undoubtedly.</i><b><br /></b><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chicken Tikka</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Samosas & Kebabs</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Biryani</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eid Cake!!</td></tr>
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<b> THE CLOTHES</b><br />
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Second-best thing about Eid.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The baby brother wore a little cute suit!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What my elder sister wore</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">what my younger sister wore</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What I wore</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The neck</td></tr>
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<b> THE MENDHI</b><br />
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<b>And...</b><br />
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This is the part where I played the game called "how many pictures can I take and make them interesting but NOT show my face?" LOL. enjoy...<br />
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Hope you all had a wonderful day!!hijabi hippie hypohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03980411567308390623noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2359694459221464605.post-8555284676912376242011-08-26T03:10:00.000+01:002011-08-26T03:10:14.572+01:00Charity<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>((This post is more of a rant. I hope I don't come across too aggressive or judgmental. If I do, please forgive me.))</i></span><br />
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I'm a very traditional person in every sense. I'm honest and I'm critical. I like things to be kept simple and try to act upon the Qur'an and Sunnah as much and as best as I can. It's how I was brought up. I think upbringing has a massive impact upon your life and character, and ultimately the person you are today. Our parents, friends, and society in general influence the way we think, our political ideologies, the way we perceive things and a whole host of our thoughts and ideas.<br />
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Something that really rattles my cage is that society today cannot seem to <i>give something for nothing</i>. People cannot seem to donate to a cause without getting something BACK for themselves. It's almost like they see the donation as an investment on <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dragons%27_Den_%28UK%29">Dragon's Den</a>, and will only complete the deal if they're happy with the return they'll get.<br />
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The kind of things I'm talking about are (for example): <a href="http://www.google.com/search?q=make+poverty+history+band&oe=utf-8&rls=org.mozilla:en-GB:official&client=firefox-a&um=1&ie=UTF-8&tbm=isch&source=og&sa=N&hl=en&tab=wi&biw=800&bih=442">wristbands for charity</a>. Who remembers those? I know I bought them, they were all the rage to wear to school; yet did people really care about the cause behind those wristbands/bracelets, and did we really <i>"make poverty history "?</i> Plus what became of that Live 8 concert? Many charities now sell lots of other merchandise in order to raise money.<br />
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Another example is charity dinners. You'd pay over £10 and perhaps in excess of even £100 to attend a lavish dinner at a nice venue where a lot of the costs would go towards hiring the actual venue, the costs of the meal and catering staff, and the rest (hopefully) to charity. At these events, they'd usually host auctions of artwork for example, to raise more money. People will bid higher in order to get the item under the guise that "it's for charity".<br />
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Another example I can think of is the<a href="http://www.apple.com/ipod/red/"> iPod red</a>, where a percentage of the money you pay for the iPod is donate to RED- a charity for HIV/AIDS. Many people enter raffles and competitions that charities hold; because in this materialistic society, all we want to do is win, win, win.<br />
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Even charities themselves are spending thousands of pounds on advertising and marketing campaigns on billboards and TV ads to get us to part with our money. Why did they commercialise charity? If people want to give, they'll give! These ads aren't exactly free, and neither are the costs for printing their leaflets; who pays the price? I'm pretty sure they cut it from donations, so you can't be sure that 100% of your donation is even going to the cause you want. Call me cynical but nothing in this life is free; yes, charities do get reduced rates for TV ads, but everything still incurs a cost.<br />
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The people that knock on your door or pester you in your high street get paid £7 per hour plus commission when someone signs up to give regularly to a charity. Who pays for their wages? <b>Ask yourself.</b> I recently had a job interview at a marketing firm in the city centre who conduct lots of advertising for charities. The role I went for <i>(although I didn't initially know this since I applied for SO many jobs in one go and got all muddled up) </i>was for the door-to-door sales person who'd ask you to sign up to donate regularly via Direct Debit to a specific charity. I declined that job simply because I thought it'd be unethical of me to be earning wages that someone gave with the intention of donation to Africa or someone really needy. In the interview, he asked me <i>"would you like to get paid for working on behalf of a charity and making a real difference to someone's life?" </i>The way he posed this question just disgusted me.<br />
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I used to volunteer a lot for my local Oxfam shop, and have done a lot of voluntary work with a number of different charities. Us volunteers would work pretty hard at the project or task in hand, and not get paid a single penny. Yet it didn't matter because if you've ever volunteered you'll know that you get such a satisfying feeling that you're giving up your valuable time to be a part of something, and you do some wonderful things and meet some amazing people. If you have never volunteered I'd seriously recommend it, it gives you a spiritual high. Anyway, we were unpaid but the project co-ordinators and the managers for the Oxfam shop DO get paid. I know they do some incredible work, and I know the wage isn't enough for you to buy Harrod's, but they do get paid. Where does that money come from?<br />
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Last year, I volunteered for Muslim Aid as part of their street collections for the Pakistan floods. You can <a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2010/08/who-cares-about-pakistan.html">read the full story here</a>, but, basically, a butcher said to us he'd rather not donate to us because he couldn't be sure 100% of the money would go to the cause, and that "our boss"- by that he meant managers etc- would take a cut of the donations we'd raised at the end of the day. We tried to reassure him but that got me thinking; maybe he was right.<br />
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Another thing I've noticed is that it's great how people can get their friends to donate if they're doing something like <i>Race for Life </i>on a Just Giving page- but I recently discovered that <a href="http://www.justgiving.com/charities/pricing-and-joining">Just Giving take a % cut</a> of the donations received for a charity, plus the charity has to <b>PAY </b>to be registered on just giving and have an account in the first place! As does Virgin Money. Why did they commercialise and capitalize upon charity?<br />
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Following on from that, it seems to be a trend to do something daring for charity. Kind of like you're playing truth or dare with your friends, and they sponsore you to do a dare like bungee jumping, abseiling, zorbing, rock climbing; the list is endless!<br />
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Has it become unfashionable for people to <i>just give</i>?<br />
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<i>Just simply give?</i><br />
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For nothing in return, not to see your friend fall off a cliff and not to see your favorite singer in concert. Just something between you and God. Not something to boast about and tell everyone. In Islam, we are taught to give charity as if we were concealing it from ourselves. Charity is a very important concept to Muslims and is the fourth pillar of Islam (there being 5 in total), of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zak%C4%81t">Zakat</a>. Charity in its true sense should eradicate poverty, and nor does it diminish our wealth. The very fact that we are fortunate enough to donate money; to own enough wealth to be able to help others means we should be ashamed that by giving charity we want something in return. The Prophet SAWS was a very poor man, yet he spent what little wealth he had on charity and helping others. Did he ask for anything in return?<br />
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Islam teaches that even a smile is a charity. A simple movement of muscles in your face that makes your features look so beautiful. And sometimes if you smile at someone (especially nowadays) they may not reciprocate it. They may give you a weird look and look over their shoulder thinking you smiled at someone behind them. And that's ok. Because you smiled at them. It's not just money that's charity:<br />
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<div style="color: purple;"><i><b><strong>“Charity is prescribed for each descendant of Adam every day the sun rises.” He was then asked: “From what do we give charity every day?” The Prophet SAWS answered: “The doors of goodness are many…enjoining good, forbidding evil, removing harm from the road, listening to the deaf, leading the blind, guiding one to the object of his need, hurrying with the strength of one’s legs to one in sorrow who is asking for help, and supporting the feeble with the strength of one’s arms–all of these are charity prescribed for you.” </strong></b></i></div><div style="color: purple;"><br />
</div><div style="color: purple;"><i><b><strong>He also said: “Your smile for your brother is charity.” </strong></b></i></div><div style="color: purple;"><br />
</div><div style="color: purple;"><i><b><strong>Narrated ‘Aisha [prophet Mohammed's wife] -may Allah be pleased with her- : “I never saw the Prophet laughing to an extent that one could see his palate, but he always used to smile”.</strong> </b></i></div><br />
I'd like to end this post by highly recommending a charity named <a href="http://www.uwt.org/site/default.asp">Ummah Welfare Trust</a>; who are committed to 100% donations policy since they don't waste money on marketing or advertising, as they do not send out letters etc, as they are a small charity based in the North. The money they use on administration is from donations they receive whereby the donater has specified they'd like their money to be spent on admin.hijabi hippie hypohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03980411567308390623noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2359694459221464605.post-75708820552772569692011-08-20T19:08:00.000+01:002011-08-20T19:08:22.726+01:00Mars bar cake!<div>Yesterday, after Iftar, with a little help from my friends (sisters), I made mars bar cake. My Mum recently bought us a bag of funsize mars bars, so I thought it'd be a good opportunity to try making the cake. I came across <a href="http://www.nigella.com/recipes/view/mars-bar-cake-1847"><b>the recipe </b></a>from <a href="http://notesandcupcakes.blogspot.com/"><i>Fatimah from notes and cupcakes</i></a>.<br />
<br />
<b>The ingredients:</b><br />
<ul><li>3 standard mars bars (we had fun sized ones and used 9)<b></b></li>
<li>2 tbsp golden syrup<b></b></li>
<li>3oz butter</li>
<li>Enough Rice Krispies to coat</li>
<li>200g milk chocolate, melted</li>
</ul><b>Method:</b><br />
<b><br />
</b><br />
I got all my ingredients together, then I measured out 3oz of butter:<br />
<b><br />
</b><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifwLDV_i6ypcpXMIvgyXJ9pfAxLw3QqxnA9OF5YJxTTaj38MtlBcQdBEcvxLwRYP5nrCAnjKkQQnlVy1C5jNXrjmK33a7jYoNjibk8gRHsVWcLIUjQ3o1dU81ljIDyYTHlURgyb9UaGXFo/s1600/IMAG0480.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifwLDV_i6ypcpXMIvgyXJ9pfAxLw3QqxnA9OF5YJxTTaj38MtlBcQdBEcvxLwRYP5nrCAnjKkQQnlVy1C5jNXrjmK33a7jYoNjibk8gRHsVWcLIUjQ3o1dU81ljIDyYTHlURgyb9UaGXFo/s320/IMAG0480.jpg" width="241" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiPArFyJzmfVNOYMRSFj4ilOAm9lKPd7fHiPdykziYgtpjSuUbteZBwyEdoIerpXC_juedMNiaFd9MhyphenhyphenyRLcpluhZIGjcA6ETdiyIlVqRJZjRVupXNKR3X2sJ6lvar8a6PGHp2_DpnkVia/s1600/IMAG0475.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiPArFyJzmfVNOYMRSFj4ilOAm9lKPd7fHiPdykziYgtpjSuUbteZBwyEdoIerpXC_juedMNiaFd9MhyphenhyphenyRLcpluhZIGjcA6ETdiyIlVqRJZjRVupXNKR3X2sJ6lvar8a6PGHp2_DpnkVia/s320/IMAG0475.jpg" width="241" /></a></div><br />
This is 200g of Cadbury's Milk Chocolate:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhssVoFXublob3G5K0SnmjOSwHAzsiHPktkXVhrLDR0awOGWQCBSzVZNWHKL9mRpFAgvBIByDtjLGYS9mRIynHqK0EeqT5kl3Bj0g8VlBeIzs12OAxUMsqEUlDvrxo4ftmvqPKiN4WlKpL-/s1600/IMAG0476.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhssVoFXublob3G5K0SnmjOSwHAzsiHPktkXVhrLDR0awOGWQCBSzVZNWHKL9mRpFAgvBIByDtjLGYS9mRIynHqK0EeqT5kl3Bj0g8VlBeIzs12OAxUMsqEUlDvrxo4ftmvqPKiN4WlKpL-/s320/IMAG0476.jpg" width="241" /></a></div><br />
The Golden Syrup and the Mars Bars:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRmtTPloPbOKtob5NR5qYd0J3sP5kFYjjXTOQY_Sqn7nascAgNut4hbaE434Dwu4TOCI4mSsbc2pLkn7je9GryFfGUqM-NLDyUlGhy08wht2u6Prr2NwHcIYFXzcwHBEgdrGdXnTnKT4F3/s1600/IMAG0478.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRmtTPloPbOKtob5NR5qYd0J3sP5kFYjjXTOQY_Sqn7nascAgNut4hbaE434Dwu4TOCI4mSsbc2pLkn7je9GryFfGUqM-NLDyUlGhy08wht2u6Prr2NwHcIYFXzcwHBEgdrGdXnTnKT4F3/s320/IMAG0478.jpg" width="241" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpUeOieycIN6mTtPCrqf6rMUZ7FVXaVxkfzvDG70ZMLwBgSbnMvMqb3s26aVgN3qSaMJ23Wou-b4ezQ7zhzbBCoHIS6SiwgLuekrq2BkO-BplYIpHOS75qScQ2a5nG81vIbb2RbJziln8p/s1600/IMAG0477.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpUeOieycIN6mTtPCrqf6rMUZ7FVXaVxkfzvDG70ZMLwBgSbnMvMqb3s26aVgN3qSaMJ23Wou-b4ezQ7zhzbBCoHIS6SiwgLuekrq2BkO-BplYIpHOS75qScQ2a5nG81vIbb2RbJziln8p/s320/IMAG0477.jpg" width="241" /></a></div><br />
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The butter, the golden syrup and the mars bars were placed into a pan until they melted:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-yShIRps1Y-lSdOkEgbWEIa0d6DtzD80ycYo6ayi-Rd4dhLzqcMcmmjzdKjyNfCmudDRCbhu-6zABF3lrZXFuUfuF0jpxCWCtCpYXEQXEBXySVdfwvcKiWcePD4GswntwK5a4_w0RUKCJ/s1600/IMAG0481.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-yShIRps1Y-lSdOkEgbWEIa0d6DtzD80ycYo6ayi-Rd4dhLzqcMcmmjzdKjyNfCmudDRCbhu-6zABF3lrZXFuUfuF0jpxCWCtCpYXEQXEBXySVdfwvcKiWcePD4GswntwK5a4_w0RUKCJ/s320/IMAG0481.jpg" width="241" /></a></div><br />
<i><b>Tip</b></i>: I cut the Mars Bars up so that they'd melt quicker:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixUbrGE25SrAvOj3SvqMolBDA2DQw0lrH_dGmUDPJuZJrtLWE9IUejgDANy2yMMTPU6EWmPfnfp8cGb5PI9OX6LZlxbZzDxrGpTFXYMRBrhliWnAcRaJs1McYDndX0i3v4GM9I2q7EnLHn/s1600/IMAG0482.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixUbrGE25SrAvOj3SvqMolBDA2DQw0lrH_dGmUDPJuZJrtLWE9IUejgDANy2yMMTPU6EWmPfnfp8cGb5PI9OX6LZlxbZzDxrGpTFXYMRBrhliWnAcRaJs1McYDndX0i3v4GM9I2q7EnLHn/s320/IMAG0482.jpg" width="241" /></a></div><br />
The mixture melting: <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjtdcArQZE52mW_teW3OZiZNVsp9gencaRpu5ZJeF_k00mHk6ntLoMXqCxF5sTueU_qp9O985NVxKq8Dg_pIIU0DpwZ2Wslai8Z807ptzrsQpjB6d59K-H8BBX8namjZqJv0AAK2QW9X7P/s1600/IMAG0484.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjtdcArQZE52mW_teW3OZiZNVsp9gencaRpu5ZJeF_k00mHk6ntLoMXqCxF5sTueU_qp9O985NVxKq8Dg_pIIU0DpwZ2Wslai8Z807ptzrsQpjB6d59K-H8BBX8namjZqJv0AAK2QW9X7P/s320/IMAG0484.jpg" width="241" /></a></div><br />
I put two bowls of Rice Krispies into a glass bowl. Once the above mixture melted, I poured it into the glass bowl and mixed: <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh51pRGHokyWQ0ESULfifLm6tfRiSk33oDuQl0na7sNCUWLSKBM1_-umMI_E1gMV-pckBq-ZorywagaHybaY6-GhxnCSHszV0cT5EoRB0hkyCXBMB8qxDM2EP7_LSggYcefuP7ZHR5hoCUH/s1600/IMAG0485.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh51pRGHokyWQ0ESULfifLm6tfRiSk33oDuQl0na7sNCUWLSKBM1_-umMI_E1gMV-pckBq-ZorywagaHybaY6-GhxnCSHszV0cT5EoRB0hkyCXBMB8qxDM2EP7_LSggYcefuP7ZHR5hoCUH/s320/IMAG0485.jpg" width="241" /></a></div><br />
The recipe says use a tin but we didn't have one that'd be deep enough, so we decided to use a glass tray-thingy instead. We poured the coated Rice Krispies into the tray and flattened them down:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg88bSySF0PeKLKdqAF6we3hCXGHoknqwE16M17NrilE1pp4aHNvETzc7BMMgEUo-QHIYy2UHc7G2Q0-R8NCgmCEipbzZ9g5Wqb895OuXUxj5fyuQF0we2nZuKvptA_E2UD-kvjXYEK0yLL/s1600/IMAG0487.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg88bSySF0PeKLKdqAF6we3hCXGHoknqwE16M17NrilE1pp4aHNvETzc7BMMgEUo-QHIYy2UHc7G2Q0-R8NCgmCEipbzZ9g5Wqb895OuXUxj5fyuQF0we2nZuKvptA_E2UD-kvjXYEK0yLL/s320/IMAG0487.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
We broke up the Milk chocolate into small pieces and placed it in a glass bowl. The glass bowl was placed on top of a pan containing boiling water, so the chocolate would melt:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy4lJcP9LAx-oRJ8vp3HOEwLgc5gTSxLHSSTWFBR9PCmr9aL2uwYPeqnUweNgiuT4pvL8vu3TkfWHujsziNYJfcusabojY8dUODc4xAXvEukKyvOHWKk93WjiNVkqgBpTsNbUeiv_mx9dT/s1600/IMAG0486.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy4lJcP9LAx-oRJ8vp3HOEwLgc5gTSxLHSSTWFBR9PCmr9aL2uwYPeqnUweNgiuT4pvL8vu3TkfWHujsziNYJfcusabojY8dUODc4xAXvEukKyvOHWKk93WjiNVkqgBpTsNbUeiv_mx9dT/s320/IMAG0486.jpg" width="241" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsnks-IHiNlK_ek1ZrR1pexi4XnL9Zk2MAoa6FuYKGF3XQsgXCyBD1lPg-2Xbs0ZO9By5r1CBx7K6l0MCZFsCTUA0HyLY5HgWCKxsZEwS2UFPvn0JVko6o-Sl8teRCdI_Rs_4THSPHEkBa/s1600/IMAG0489.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsnks-IHiNlK_ek1ZrR1pexi4XnL9Zk2MAoa6FuYKGF3XQsgXCyBD1lPg-2Xbs0ZO9By5r1CBx7K6l0MCZFsCTUA0HyLY5HgWCKxsZEwS2UFPvn0JVko6o-Sl8teRCdI_Rs_4THSPHEkBa/s320/IMAG0489.jpg" width="241" /></a></div><br />
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My Mum poured the melted chocolate out of the bowl and smoothed it down onto the Rice Krispies:<br />
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We left it in the fridge overnight to set:<br />
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We made a little Rice Krispie cake too. We used to make these a lot when I was younger:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNtgHYe7w1q4FsCVcxh-ya0BLySnX8TZOSrInP-jCWnd5-fH4scmaFyU4VkJNMnAhXp7-09LSiNqgD2DAICh3u_r4sxXeN6uW4_aTv47TwqoB1k90K-6fTmvKrUOhI9AAyQwOz5twRjEYi/s1600/IMAG0498.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNtgHYe7w1q4FsCVcxh-ya0BLySnX8TZOSrInP-jCWnd5-fH4scmaFyU4VkJNMnAhXp7-09LSiNqgD2DAICh3u_r4sxXeN6uW4_aTv47TwqoB1k90K-6fTmvKrUOhI9AAyQwOz5twRjEYi/s320/IMAG0498.jpg" width="241" /></a></div><br />
And of course we had to make sure the bowl was clean :P<br />
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When we got up for Sehri, I took the tray out the fridge and it looked like this:<br />
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My Mum cut it into squares. This is the final product:<br />
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It tasted SO nice! I seriously would urge you to try it if you can. I thought it was going to be too sickly or chocolatey but it wasn't. Even my Dad- who normally doesn't like chocolate-based deserts loved it! <br />
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<b>PS: </b><i>if you were reading this whilst fasting I really hope it didn't make you too hungry!</i><b><br />
</b></div>hijabi hippie hypohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03980411567308390623noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2359694459221464605.post-42215014239062165672011-08-19T02:10:00.000+01:002011-08-19T02:10:55.658+01:00Another place to stalk me...Tumblr!<br />
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I made one yesterday. It'll contain pictures & poems and very short blog posts. Everything else will remain on here. If you're on it, please follow me ! Please check out a poem I wrote recently entitled "Just you and me".<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://hijabihippie.tumblr.com/"><i>FOLLOW ME ON TUMBLR</i></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Toodles!</div>hijabi hippie hypohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03980411567308390623noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2359694459221464605.post-36359107697615088742011-08-13T15:26:00.000+01:002011-08-13T15:26:51.970+01:00A tale of rice pudding (kheer)On Tuesday, my Mum invited her friend over to our house. because her in-laws were visiting from Pakistan; so it was an amalgamation of both and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Iftar">Iftar</a> and a Dawat. My Mum, not wanting to disappoint, pulled out all the stops and made quite a few dishes; Pakistanis-and Asians in general are renowned for their hospitality. So they came, they talked, and they ate; they ate quite a lot for people who'd been fasting. If you've ever fasted, you'll know that by the time you open your fast, you're not that hungry and you can't eat that much. And then, before you could say the word<i> hypothyroid</i>, they left so that they could drive home and get to the mosque to pray <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Taraweeh">Taraweeh</a>. My Mum had initially intended to give them food to take home in containers (it's an Asian thing), but since they left so quickly, she didn't get the chance.<br />
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So, us, as a family of five adults and one baby, were left with all these dishes to consume over the next few days, which seemed like a daunting task as there was A LOT of it. (*disclaimer- I'm not complaining by the way, I'm very grateful for the food we had/have Alhamdulillah). Now the one dish I wasn't looking forward to eating was <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kheer">Kheer</a>; and there were two <b>massive</b> bowls of it. I've never liked it, ever. I tried it once when I was younger at my Granny's house and I've refused to eat it since. It was served at my friend's wedding recently and I didn't eat it, even though my Arab friend and her Mum loved it.<br />
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Excuse the vulgarity, but to me, Kheer looks like someone has vomited the contents of their stomach into a bowl and then served it to you. It actually does. I then realised I can be quite fussy when it comes to the texture of certain foods. Kheer is thick, stodgy, and gloopy; well the one my Mum made is, anyway. In the days after they left, my parents would have a bowl each of Kheer at Iftar time. It was becoming quite clear that the Kheer was gonna hang around for weeks on end if they carried on like this. Me and my two sisters refused to eat it, our reasons being the way it looked. My Dad kept joking about how one day, we'd have to have Kheer only for Sehri and we'd have to do that for a couple of days to get it all eaten. But last night, he was far from joking and forced us to have some; at least try it. I really didn't want to have it, because I was full and didn't need pudding, and I just couldn't see past the way it looked.<br />
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After much resistance, I took a small spoonful of Kheer, placed it in my mouth, chewed and swallowed it slowly. I really didn't like the texture, but I was pleasantly surprised to find that I liked the taste; as it was nice and sweet. I continued eating it, and ate two small bowls of it, even though I was stuffed. Once I finished eating it, I realised how utterly stupid I'd been to judge the dish based on what it looked like, and hold a prejudice for many years. Our tastes change so much from our childhood; things that I used to like and eat then I don't now, and vice versa.<br />
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This incident reminded me of the quote<i> "never judge a book by its cover "</i>, and although this quote is thrown around a lot, do we understand it or act upon it? (myself included). It's really dangerous when we base our perceptions and judgements of something on what it looks like; and this can be applied to humans as well as food. Such a simple thing taught me such a poignant lesson.<br />
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hijabi hippie hypohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03980411567308390623noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2359694459221464605.post-23688084292961125892011-08-05T19:15:00.001+01:002011-08-06T16:40:24.307+01:00The Feminism Series: The Equality Illusion, book reviewI've finally finished reading <i>The Equality Illusion</i>, which was first on my reading list of<a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2011/06/feminism-series-equality-illusion.html"> <i>the feminism series</i></a>. It's taken me quite long to finish it, I'm a slow reader, but I'm proud of myself for actually finishing it (in the past I have never been able to finish books, I seem to lose interest). Perhaps the reason why I was able to finish the book is that I'm more interested in factual books now than fictional stories.<br />
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Anyway, my review. This book is written in a highly persuasive and emotive manner, in order to persuade the reader that the objectives of feminism haven't been achieved and feminism is still highly relevant today. However, the author uses statistics to verify her statements which make the book more credible, yet simultaneously shocking. A lot of the facts were very surprising, and this is probably because gender inequality issues that we are faced with today are sugar coated or based upon stereotypes. The book also includes countless interviews and stories of real women, to emphasize that these issues are faced by real women on a daily basis. Parts of this book were uncomfortable to read; especially the chapter called <i>The Booty Myth; a night out in the sex industry</i>, which dealt with the truth of the pornography and prostitution industries. The book explored further topics that I have touched upon in my own blog, including <a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2010/10/man-i-feel-like-woman.html">femininity</a>, <a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2011/03/beauty-and-geek-make-up-and-me.html">beauty</a>, <a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2011/03/overheard-on-bus.html">prostitution</a> and the <a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2011/05/beyonce-and-empowerment-of-women.html">sexualization of women in the media</a>, which is why I related to it more. This book was a real eye-opener, and provided a much-needed insight into the problems that women and girls still face in the twenty first century. This book acted as a real <i>myth buster</i>, especially regarding rape and abuse, as stats show women are more likely to be abused by someone they already know; so the scenario we're fed in the media of someone attacking us in a dark alleyway is completely false. In the chapter <i>Hands up for a gendered education</i>, I learnt that it is from a very young age that we learn (from teachers, parents & society) what it means to be a girl, how we are meant to behave and act or even which toys we are meant to play with; and I found this to be both interesting and true. The gender boundaries are laid out to us very clearly from a young age, and anyone that tries to act differently, for example a boy picking a pink crayon is labelled as<i> "gay"</i>. I was disappointed to find out the "bra-burning tale" is in fact a myth *boo!* :( Anyway, the book ends with a chapter called <i>A New Day, </i>in which the cases of some individuals and organisations who are actively campaigning were highlighted in order to prove that anyone can make a change, and the gender inequality problems we face are not inevitable. However, a lot of support services, for example Rape Crisis Centres are closing despite the fact that abuse and rape incidence is increasing, as it all boils down to funding. This chapter also states that <i>Feminism Helps Men (FHM)</i>; feminism is <b>not just</b> for women, and the more men we get involved, the better, since it is vital that men change their attitudes on women. Another key issue is that we need more women involved in Politics, because if more women are in Parliament, it's more likely that issues relating to gender inequality will be tackled by the government which may lead to bills being passed. Overall, I really enjoyed reading this book; it was interesting, insightful, shocking yet inspiring. It inspired me to get involved with grassroots campaigning or activism. I highly recommend it to anyone and everyone. I'll leave you with a quote from the book:<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial, 'Helvetica Neue', sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19px;">"What's clear is that anyone can bring about change, whether it's from a home computer or from outside the Houses of Parliament."</span></b></blockquote><br />
<b>Further Reading:</b><br />
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<i><a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/society/2011/aug/05/payoff-sex-workers-clients-stories?CMP=twt_gu">Why do women become sex workers, and why do men go to them?</a></i><br />
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<i><a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2011/aug/05/feminism-resurgent-activists?CMP=twt_gu">Feminism is back and we want to finish the revolution, say activists</a> </i><br />
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<i><a href="http://www.ukfeminista.org.uk/">Feminista</a></i>hijabi hippie hypohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03980411567308390623noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2359694459221464605.post-72510047907556997742011-07-31T22:23:00.000+01:002011-07-31T22:23:51.715+01:00Ramadan Mubarak!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Wishing you 1 month of Ramadan, 4 weeks of Barakah, 30 days of forgiveness, 720 hours of guidance, 43,200 minutes of purification and 2,592,000 seconds of Noor! Ramadan Mubarak to all my Muslim followers :)<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO2t1wLCMStEySNY8MfreLagZI53Tic7MAWvHGH_nLMzINREFG6t0FJSqd3qyqS-Nm7uHoy0jVW1ENeZJMbT7UMEGlL3LYjVF9f_Sfr4-CBEP9JHpCK9OqnvINJmedPMOwBrpqLKYTFPAh/s1600/ramadhan+2011.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO2t1wLCMStEySNY8MfreLagZI53Tic7MAWvHGH_nLMzINREFG6t0FJSqd3qyqS-Nm7uHoy0jVW1ENeZJMbT7UMEGlL3LYjVF9f_Sfr4-CBEP9JHpCK9OqnvINJmedPMOwBrpqLKYTFPAh/s400/ramadhan+2011.gif" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<blockquote><i>On the Day of Judgement, "Fasting will say: O My Lord I prevented him from food & desires so accept my intercession for him." (Ahmad) </i></blockquote><blockquote><a class=" twitter-hashtag" href="http://twitter.com/#%21/search?q=%23islam" rel="nofollow" title="#islam"><span class="hash"></span><span class="hash-text"></span></a><i>"...And it is better for you that ye fast, if ye only knew." (2:184)</i><br />
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<i>Ramadan is a month whose beginning is mercy, whose middle is forgiveness, & whose end is freedom from the fire of hell. <a class=" twitter-hashtag" href="http://twitter.com/#%21/search?q=%23islam" rel="nofollow" title="#islam"><span class="hash"></span><span class="hash-text"></span></a></i><br />
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<i>“O ye who believe! Fasting is prescribed to you as it was prescribed to those before you, that ye may (learn) self-restraint.” (2:183)</i><br />
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<i>Ramadan is a blessed month containing a night which is better than a thousand months.</i><br />
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<i> "Fasting is a shield with which a servant protects himself from the Fire." [Ahmad, Saheeh]</i><br />
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<i>"Fasting is prescribed for you as it was prescribed for those before you, that you may attain taqwaa." [2:183]</i></blockquote>hijabi hippie hypohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03980411567308390623noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2359694459221464605.post-86473636557282318512011-07-19T11:11:00.000+01:002011-07-19T11:11:35.528+01:00You're not nineteen forever, pull yourself together!Today is my birthday. I'm 20. I'm no longer a teenager!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivSa4RVuIBD_4MyMv-zEevOHGBYi_WJAMrGUvzcpIWCB3nJpyNjIlPRtSdv3yEcE4bQQSoOOgoJy5NHeNmKtBGgM1TRYZs84ivoyv_nHVxFp8jEZpvH5xGpsjztQ7VMIR1M-Be_DdEaqhT/s1600/oh+no+gif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivSa4RVuIBD_4MyMv-zEevOHGBYi_WJAMrGUvzcpIWCB3nJpyNjIlPRtSdv3yEcE4bQQSoOOgoJy5NHeNmKtBGgM1TRYZs84ivoyv_nHVxFp8jEZpvH5xGpsjztQ7VMIR1M-Be_DdEaqhT/s1600/oh+no+gif.gif" /></a></div><br />
I don't really know how to feel, should I be happy? But what am I celebrating? Another year of my life has passed. So I decided to look back on the year to see what's happened, to reminisce the highs and the lows:<br />
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<i><b>July 2010- the bad health month</b></i><br />
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I remember just being lazy and enjoying the holidays. I was also suffering from really bad back pain which I initially thought was just prolonged time-of-the-month pain. I went to the Doctor's and was sent to the Emergency Department of the hospital. After a long wait and lots of tests I'd rather forget I had to have, I was given some painkillers and booked an MRI scan for 4 weeks later. I also <a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2010/07/old-habits-die-hard.html">changed vocations</a> from science (trying for medicine) to Economics. I <a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2010/07/i-could-really-use-wish-right-now.html">also swung into the hyper-thyroid range</a>, which came as a shock. I was also suffering from Carpal Tunnel Syndrome, and got a diagnosis for that.<br />
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<b><i>August 2010, the pain continues</i></b><br />
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I got a new haircut (no pictures, obviously!) ;) . <a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2010/08/ramdan-kareem.html">I welcomed Ramadhan</a> with open arms, but after two or three fasts, the back pain was too much and I realised I could not fast as I needed to take pain killers every 4 hours. I had to undergo nerve conduction tests (much to the amusement of my Mother!) to assess the Carpal Tunnel Syndrome. It showed that it was worse in my right hand, and although the results were confusing and inconclusive, my Consultant still agreed to operate. My surgery was booked for next month. I also <a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2010/08/who-cares-about-pakistan.html">volunteered for Muslim Aid</a> with their street collections in aid of the Pakistan floods. I also unveiled my signature <a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2010/08/purple-rose-hijab.html">purple rose hijab.</a><br />
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<b><i>September 2010, a rollercoaster ride</i></b><br />
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On the first of September, I had <a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2010/08/carpal-tunnel-release-surgery.html">Carpal Tunnel Release Surgery</a> on my left hand. A few days later, I had my MRI scan, which was quite scary. The machine was so noisy and it comes quite close to your face. By this time, my back pain had subsided anyway. I was told there was no slipped disc and was given more painkillers . I <a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2010/09/eid-ul-fitr-2010-in-pictures.html">celebrated Eid</a> with my bandage still on! <a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2010/09/imhypothyroid.html">I was then told I was hypo-thyroid</a>, so this meant another dose change! :( Meanwhile, I enrolled at my new university which was a little daunting but not too bad, since my sister showed me the ropes. I was really looking forward to my new course. I summed up Fresher's week in <a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2010/09/uni-life-so-far.html">this post</a>. I quickly <a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2010/09/you-dont-know-what-you-got-til-its-gone.html">began to miss my old uni friends</a>, and the city, oddly enough.<br />
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<b><i>October 2010, a month of big changes</i></b><br />
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I joined the gym with my friend. I had been pondering doing this for a long time, and I finally decided to be brave and bite the bullet. I began to go twice a week at first, and slowly built it up from there. I was excited for the new series of BBC Apprentice, and actually <a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2010/10/i-cannot-wait-for.html">picked the winner</a>! I was <a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2010/10/wedding-dilemmas.html">unsure about whether or not</a> to attend a family-friend's wedding, <a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2010/10/wedding.html">but went in the end</a>. I blogged about the <a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2010/10/man-i-feel-like-woman.html">issue of femininity</a> and what it means to me. I started a small venture where I bought and re-sold perfumes on eBay.<br />
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<b><i>November 2010, nothing much happens</i></b><br />
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Was a pretty quiet month. <a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2010/11/hhh-update.html">I blogged a thyroid update</a>; to sum it up I just didn't feel <i>right</i>. I blogged about <a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2010/11/celebrities-with-thyroid-disease.html">celebrities with thyroid disease</a>. I had a few tests and essays at uni, they were going ok but I felt as if I could have been doing better. I suspected the dose change was taking its toll on my work.<br />
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<b><i>December 2010, things start looking up</i></b><br />
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Winter was well and truly in full swing, as it<a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2010/12/i-hope-you-dont-mind-that-i-put-down-in.html"> began to snow</a>. I blogged about a situation involving being asked to <a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2010/12/spare-some-change.html">spare some change</a>. I blogged more <a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2010/12/let-it-snow-2.html">snow pictures</a>. I watched Miral and <a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2010/12/film-review-miral.html">wrote a review</a>. I had my other hand operated on, and was less nervous this time since I knew what to expect. We celebrated <a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2010/12/happy-birthday-beau.html">my little sister's birthday</a>, and I blogged a cartoon-style "<a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2010/12/holiday-blues.html">holiday blues</a>."<br />
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<b><i>January 2011; new year, new me?</i></b><br />
<br />
I wished you all a <a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2010/12/happy-new-year.html">Happy New Year</a>, and wrote about my "<a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2011/01/nobody-can-go-back-and-start-new.html">new years' resolutions</a>." I helped a <a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2011/01/ever-see-blind-man-cross-road-tryna.html">blind man onto the bus</a>, and I went <a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2011/01/new-additions-to-family-clothes.html">clothes & ring shopping</a>. I held a <a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2011/01/giveaway-to-celebrate-hhhs-first.html">giveaway to celebrate a year of blogging,</a> and asked you to share with me your favourite quotes. I celebrated my <a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2011/01/happy-blogaversary-to-me.html">blogaversary</a>, set up a <a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2011/01/my-new-weight-loss-blog-overcoming.html">weight loss blog</a> called "Overcoming Obstacles", and <a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2011/01/giveaway-winners-announced.html">announced the winners</a> of my giveaway. My thyroid at this point was good, my levels were adjusted and I was looking forward to being well again.<br />
<br />
<b><i>February 2011, a turning point</i></b><br />
<br />
I asked a question regarding Islamophobia: <a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2011/02/is-it-just-our-turn.html">is it just our turn?</a> and I attend the <a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2011/02/islamic-society-pre-valentines-talk.html">ISOC relationships talk</a>. I asked you <a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2011/02/why-does-it-take-us-to-see-something.html">why it took us to see somebody disadvantaged</a> to be thankful for what we have. Things began to look up at university; grades-wise, which I was happy about, especially in maths. My cousin got married, but I wasn't able to attend since she lives in London, as I had tests coming up after the weekend she was due to marry! :(<br />
<br />
<b><i>March 2011</i></b><br />
<b><i><br />
</i></b><br />
I got writers' block, watched Big Momma's House, and <a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2011/03/i-get-this-writers-block-it-comes-as.html">got two blog awards</a>. I wrote about <a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2011/03/beauty-and-geek-make-up-and-me.html">my relationship with make-up</a>, and <a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2011/03/three-years-on.html">celebrated three years since I was diagnosed</a> with hypothyroidism, for which I made a YouTube video. I <a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2011/03/overheard-on-bus.html">overheard an interesting</a> (to say the least) conversation on the bus.<br />
<br />
<b><i>April 2011, the calm before the storm</i></b><br />
<br />
We cooked my<a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2011/04/mothers-day-030411.html"> Mum a meal for Mothers' Day</a>, and I wrote about the<a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2011/04/islam-culture-and-rules.html"> conflicting ideals between religion and culture</a>. I told you about my<a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2011/04/lets-pretend-he-wasnt-socially-awkward.html"> social awkwardness</a>, and shared a video about the <a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2011/04/royal-engagement-facebook-fail.html">Royal Wedding</a>. I watched a local-made film called South Asian Whispers, and <a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2011/04/south-asian-whispers-review-film.html">wrote a review</a>. I finished University for the year and began revising for my final year exams; I had four next month. We also went (as a family) on a trip to the Lake District.<br />
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<b><i>May 2011, exam time</i></b><br />
<br />
I spent most of my life at home, in the library, or at the gym to relieve stress. I was revising for and sitting my final summer exams. I was determined to do the best I could. During this time, I blogged about <a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2011/05/you-look-at-me-its-like-you-hit-me-with.html">receiving attention from an alien species</a>! I finished my exams on May 25th, and started working straight away. This was the first ever job I'd had, and I blogged about <a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2011/05/my-first-day-of-work.html">how I was finding it so far.</a> I blogged about<a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2011/05/beyonce-and-empowerment-of-women.html"> Beyonce and the so-called empowerment of women in music</a>.<br />
<br />
<b><i>June 2011, Summer begins</i></b><br />
<br />
For most of this month, I was attempting to juggle home life with work, which was pretty difficult. I was just becoming so exhausted. Anyway, I was really inspired after watching the video about Beyonce, that I decided to write up a Summer reading list, containing books on feminism and capitalism. The first book I decided to read is called <a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2011/06/feminism-series-equality-illusion.html">The Equality Illusion</a>, as part of the feminism series. <a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2011/06/i-wanna-feel-i-wanna-heal-what-i.html">I blogged about the past</a>, re-defining myself, and coming to terms with thyroid disease. I quit my job at the end of June, I just couldn't do it any more, it was exhausting plus the employers were not being honest. I enjoyed the experience and the fact that I got to work with non-Muslims which sparked some interesting conversations.<br />
<br />
<b><i>July 2011</i></b><br />
<br />
I had a blood test <a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2011/07/as-i-suspected-coming-out.html">and found out I was hypo-thyroid</a>, I didn't have enough thyroid hormone. I attended my friend's wedding, which was weird for me because I can't imagine getting married at 20, but I wish her all the best. I am keeping busy by reading The Equality Illusion, and looking after my baby brother as well as cooking and doing the housework; much to my Mother's approval! Today is my birthday, as well as my elder sister's graduation! Unfortunately I won't be able to attend the ceremony as we didn't manage to get extra tickets, but Mum & Dad are going, InshaAllah. And later this week I should be receiving a nice pay cheque for the job I left.<br />
<br />
Needless to say I've had quite a year! I pray that Allah grants me another eventful year, and I particularly hope I come out of my shell more at university, and continue to get good grades, inshaAllah. Whatever happens I know will be for the best, and I hope that I can draw upon my experiences to gain more strength and Iman. <i>Ameen. </i><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCFOWULosHIti6d9w5q0xSJwU8Cru0iuQ9Ct917p10jAefa66xS8JNWtKGmmVZmpkTDrzt-G7BQksl2QIQuR7zncfZMu8KrN8BcQgPbQEd-MMoI69iw7zJr1E8Ge7F1Hm-sZ1Cbrf0EGI3/s1600/candle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCFOWULosHIti6d9w5q0xSJwU8Cru0iuQ9Ct917p10jAefa66xS8JNWtKGmmVZmpkTDrzt-G7BQksl2QIQuR7zncfZMu8KrN8BcQgPbQEd-MMoI69iw7zJr1E8Ge7F1Hm-sZ1Cbrf0EGI3/s320/candle.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>hijabi hippie hypohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03980411567308390623noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2359694459221464605.post-83448740396287191582011-07-10T14:37:00.000+01:002011-07-10T14:37:44.577+01:00As I suspected & coming out<b><i>As I suspected</i></b><br />
<br />
I've not been feeling "right" for a number of weeks now- just not myself really. I've been dizzy, headachey, tired- more than normal and I just suspected something wasn't right with regards to my thyroid. I knew I had a blood test due soon anyway, as I have them every 3 months just to keep things in check. At first I wasn't sure if I was just stressed or tired from work, but as time progressed it became clear it was a thyroid issue. So I went to my doctor to request a blood test form, and explain I'd been having palpitations, feeling sick and was dizzy. I actually suspected I had swung into the HYPER range (when you have too much thyroxine), but as the days passed I wasn't sure if I'd gone into either the hyper or hypo range, but I definitely knew something was up.<br />
<br />
So I booked a blood test for the next day. It was a fasting blood test too, as my Doctor always likes to check for Diabetes and torture me (lol!) so I can't eat anything from 10pm the night before until after the blood test. The trouble is the blood test was at 9:40am, and I was struggling for weeks now to get out of bed on time. Luckily for me my job stated at 12pm, which was quite fortunate really. Anyway, I told my Mum it was at 9:40 am, I even tweeted it for goodness' sake, yet I got confused and convinced myself it was at 10:40 am instead. To cut a long story short, there was a lot of shouting from my parents' behalf to try and get my lazy arse out of bed, but as hard as they tried I just didn't manage to get ready on time. This incident proved to me even more that something wasn't right with regards to my thyroid, yet my parents weren't very understanding. I was so embarrassed about the whole situation, that it took me a whole week to book another blood test.<br />
<br />
Anyway, so Tuesday the 5th July, I went off to the hospital at 10:20 am this time- I knew if it was any earlier we'd have a repeat of last time- and I got three bottles of blood drawn out from my left arm. I didn't know what the results would show, but I was hoping they'd show an imbalance in my thyroid hormones; TSH and free T4, nor did I know how long it would take my GP to be given my results. On Thursday 7th July, I received a letter in the post saying:<br />
<br />
<blockquote><i>The Doctor would like you to book a non-urgent routine telephone appointment, and this can be done within the next 3-4 weeks.</i></blockquote><br />
In my experience, whenever I receive a letter with the wording above, there have been many, it usually entails a change in the dosage of my thyroid medication. So there was no way I was waiting for 3/4 weeks to be told, by phone, that I needed a dose change. I really hate how my GP surgery does that. I guess a dose change is "routine"- but to me it IS urgent that I get on the right dose as soon as, and not prolong the effects of incorrect balance of thyroid hormones to my body. So naturally, I wasn't buying into it, so I phoned up the surgery to get a physical appointment.<br />
<br />
There I was on Friday, and the surgery was very quite which is rare, so I got seen quite quickly, much to my surprise. I was told that I'd gone into the HYPO range (not enough thyroxine), as my TSH was over 5 (should be below), and my free T4 was only around 17/18- should be higher. My dosage was to be increased from 100mcg to 125mcg, so I'd need to pick up some 25mcg tablets from the pharmacy. I was actually happy for once that I was getting a dose change. I was also glad that I suspected something was wrong, as it indicates that I'm listening to my body more, and can recognise when something isn't right.<br />
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So, as of yesterday, I've been taking 125mcg. I would kindly request your thoughts, dua's and prayers please, because dose changes can be pretty confusing for me. I wrote this in my personal statement, when I was going to apply for medicine (I didn't in the end):<br />
<br />
<blockquote><i>I find it fascinating how a single hormone can have such a profound effect on the functioning of the human body</i></blockquote><br />
And I still believe that today, it's pretty fascinating, baffling and bewildering- all in a SubhanAllah kinda way.<br />
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<b><i>Coming out</i></b><br />
<b><i><br />
</i></b><br />
By coming out I mean, of course, telling people I have thyroid disease. All of you that read my blog, and those that follow me on Twitter all know I'm hypothyroid. Yet only a handful of people I know in "real life" know of my thyroid disease. It's not that I'm ashamed, you see I'm quite a private person, and I don't believe in telling everybody your personal business, just because they simply do not need to know. None of my university friends know. I was quite close to telling one, but I didn't in the end.<br />
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Some of you may know<a href="http://glandtastic.blogspot.com/2011/05/my-first-day-of-work.html"> from a previous post</a> that I have been working for an accommodation company, distributing leaflets etc. I have since left this job. Anyway, I met some really fantastic and interesting people who I worked with and got to know on quite a personal level. Everyone was just so open and friendly, and we all just got stuck into the task at hand. I'd been saying to them for a number of days that I hadn't been feeling too well, and one day I mentioned that I'd been to the doctor and he's decided to send me for a blood test. One of my co-workers commented <i>"That's a bit drastic, isn't it?"</i> Without even hesitating, the words just rolled off my tongue and I said : <i>"well no, it's not really, cos I'm hypothyroid and I'm always having regular blood tests." </i><br />
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Of course then proceeded lots of questions about what hypothyroidism is, what it means for me, and is there a cure etc. And I was glad to be equipped with the knowledge to answer their questions. I don't know why, but I was so surprised that they were completely fine with it. I didn't want them to start treating me differently, and they didn't, which I was glad about.<br />
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On a final note, I'd like to thank and welcome the new followers to this strange little blog of mine; thank you for following, reading and commenting, it means a lot to me :)hijabi hippie hypohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03980411567308390623noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2359694459221464605.post-68441343266682974832011-06-19T13:48:00.002+01:002011-06-19T14:05:55.165+01:00I wanna heal, I wanna feel, what I thought was never real, I wanna let go all the pain I've felt so long; erase all the pain 'till it's goneI was always the geek/swot in the class who lacked the social skills yet got the best grades. It was drummed into me from a young age. My Father put much emphasis on education, on good handwriting, on always excelling academically. I completely understand why he did this, and I do not resent it one bit. At high school I attended a private Islamic independent school. During years seven and eight, my grades were good but they were just above average. It was in year nine that I began to really excel academically. Year nine was the height of my depression, and in order to block it all out, I decided to channel all my energy into my school work and SATs exams; and it worked. People started to say things like: <br />
<br />
"<i>She's got over 90% for all her exams, but she goes around looking so moody, she should smile a little more- I'd kill for her grades</i>!" <br />
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If only they knew what was really going on. I didn't take much notice of the people who did say that, cos I knew they were jealous. During years ten and eleven, the pain of my weight gain was so overwhelmingly numbing. I just didn't know what to do anymore. I tried to accept that I'd always be "big" but it didn't work. I couldn't accept it. So I didn't face it, I ignored it and again, blocked all these thoughts away by throwing myself into my studies. By the end of year 11, I left with an amazing set of GCSE results, that still, to this very day, shock me. I have no idea how I even got them with all the stuff I was going through. Everyone was really sad to leave high school, but not me. It's not that I wouldn't miss the people, but five years was way too long, and I was ready to move on.<br />
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I then attended a sixth form of a private school, the same school that my two sisters were attending. I didn't really have much say in which sixth form/college I'd be attending. I didn't really care. The new sixth form was a complete culture shock. Yes, it was girls only, but they were girls from upper class families who were basically loaded, financially. I'd never interacted with such people before. It was overwhelming to say the least. I quickly began to struggle with my AS levels. Having only studied double science at GCSE to doing all three sciences at AS level was really hard. I was trying my best to keep my head above water but I was drowning in the work. My grades went from hero to zero, from excelling to not even passing. I was in shock as to how this was happening yet I couldn't seem to control it, no matter how hard I tried. Friends that had joined me from high school to this sixth form were doing just fine, but I wasn't, and I felt like a complete let-down.<br />
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It got to the point where my <i>brain fog</i> was so bad that I was literally falling asleep in classes, I couldn't concentrate, focus or pay attention to what was being said. I'd zone out so quickly. My life was literally passing me by. I had no control or grip upon it. This continued to worsen. When me and my sister would attend science lectures after school, my Dad would pick us up and ask us in the car to summarise the lecture. My sister, being talkative by nature would always answer and tell him what the lecture was about. Once, my Dad asked me to summarise the lecture instead. I had zoned out completely and couldn't remember any of it, and struggled to think of anything to say. He got so frustrated at me and started shouting and saying what's the point of you attending if you don't pay attention. I'll never forget that moment. <br />
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My parents were always frustrated by my <i>brain fog</i>- I'd zone out quickly, I wouldn't speak much, I'd forget things easily, which my Mum hated. She'd tell me to do a specific chore and I'd forget and she'd think I was just making it up so I wouldn't have to do it. There was just so much pain associated with my teenage years. It's like we all suspected, at the back of our minds, that<i> something, anything,</i> was wrong, but we just didn't know <b>what</b>.<br />
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I saw this tweet (below) recently which made so much sense to me, and helped me understand. I was definitely not born hypothyroid (as that's the congenital type, all babies are tested at birth). The type that I have is called<i> "Hashimoto's "</i> or the <i>autoimmune</i> type; where the body's immune system attacks the thyroid. I still don't know whether or not this runs in my family, but I suspect not. I recently found out that my Grandad is hypothyroid, and was diagnosed five years ago. It came as a bit of a shock. My Mum went to visit him, and he was asking about me saying: "<i>Is she still fat</i>?" and my Mum was like actually, she's hypothyroid, and then my Grandad was like I've got that too, and I've had it for five years. But, anyway, age seven or eight was definitely when the weight gain kicked in, so I suspect I've had it since then. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0IddOQezGhS2eMFxYk0eA0pDpIztiDYgIxQ56Srt2FOzQMWtScGYaxkQXw3mp8eFhw0khrr0zoNJAmFSlAOAoO80P1ms8dJ95I6TLkzvqLAbvxOEoyamlv3MjBIusv9rdzPJ0QEUNPFpv/s1600/drthyroidtweet.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="315" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0IddOQezGhS2eMFxYk0eA0pDpIztiDYgIxQ56Srt2FOzQMWtScGYaxkQXw3mp8eFhw0khrr0zoNJAmFSlAOAoO80P1ms8dJ95I6TLkzvqLAbvxOEoyamlv3MjBIusv9rdzPJ0QEUNPFpv/s320/drthyroidtweet.png" width="320" /> </a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
Over the next two years, the <i>brain fog</i> was still present. It's difficult because it's a subjective thing, that is hard to explain, only I know how I was feeling and what was going on. I thought post-diagnosis that this magic tiny white pill would make all the pain go away, almost instantaneously. But it didn't. <br />
<br />
Now I feel like I've finally got my life, my destiny and my future back on track. I feel like a kid who wandered down the aisles in the supermarket, looking for Mummy desperately. I feel like a train that de-railed momentarily and is finally in motion again. Basically, I was just so lost, but I finally feel as if I have some direction in my life now. I don't want to speak too soon. But my grades have been pretty good this year, and I'm so thankful for that. As geeky as it sounds, my grades are a big part of my life, so I finally feel as if I'm getting my life back. The "old me" is back. Maybe it is the subject, but I finally feel like I'm enjoying what I study; I was destined to study this. The <i>brain fog</i> is still here, part of me thinks it will never leave, but it is undoubtedly much less than it was pre-diagnosis. <br />
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It's hard to block out all the pain, just erase it all and give yourself a new identity post-diagnosis. It's like what<a href="http://thyroid-hope.blogspot.com/2011/06/defining-and-redefining-moments.html#comment-form"> Lorraine Williams</a> said in her latest post; it's about <b>re-definining </b>yourself. <br />
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<i style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">**post title taken from Linkin Park, Somewhere I belong </i>hijabi hippie hypohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03980411567308390623noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2359694459221464605.post-35651409611665925842011-06-09T00:21:00.000+01:002011-06-09T00:21:24.568+01:00Feminism Series: "The Equality Illusion"From watching the video in my previous post, entitled "<i>Beyonce run the world LIES</i>", and doing lots of research, I was really inspired to find out more about feminism, gender inequality and female empowerment. I want to know what it really means to be a woman in the twenty-first century, I want to know what it was like for women in the sixties; I want to learn about the women who burnt their bra's or tied themselves to railings to be allowed to vote. It just seemed to trigger something within me. I figured out that I needed to read more; my plan was to read more books over summer, <i>real</i> books; from getting sick of Economics textbooks (as much as I love the subject). <br />
<br />
So I began to look on amazon and stuff for books on feminism, and I compiled a MS Word document of all the stuff I want to read. I've made two separate lists; one on feminism, and one on economics, which includes books on capitalism. The stuff is just fascinating. Only God knows if I will actually get through this list, or even manage to read one! I have been known not to finish books and get bored of them. I used to love reading, but I just can't seem to come across anything that floats my boat in terms of ficiton. But now I want to read up about real issues. Educate myself, not just learn for exams, and read for the sake of revising.<br />
<br />
So, today I went to pick up one of the books on feminism from my local library. It is called <b>"<i>The Equality Illusion: the truth about women & men today</i>"</b>, and is by Kat Banyard.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGd1aUSlzuPJ21UVW0sb1wp9w-ibYSATBUy8r2IjyXOOoRJxefuOTF5844kPO5WUdlOPCcR2j62hG3IsbuOGa3nY_5xwOWq9jSLH7h_5Ksde92QKqQY-sgyrcIaOVpzWpoU31BhFEn3RKH/s1600/book-equality-illusion.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGd1aUSlzuPJ21UVW0sb1wp9w-ibYSATBUy8r2IjyXOOoRJxefuOTF5844kPO5WUdlOPCcR2j62hG3IsbuOGa3nY_5xwOWq9jSLH7h_5Ksde92QKqQY-sgyrcIaOVpzWpoU31BhFEn3RKH/s400/book-equality-illusion.jpg" width="248" /></a></div><br />
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To make sure I keep reading it, I will, InshaAllah make notes as I go along, and any gems I read I will post on here, under the feminism series tag. At the end, I will write an overall review of the book, and let you know if I think you should read it too. So all the books I read on feminism will be tagged under the "feminism series" thingy, and I hope it becomes a regular thing.<br />
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<b>About the book</b><br />
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Today it is believed that women and men have achieved equality. This is quite simply an illusion. In <i>the equality illusion</i>, campaigner Kat Banyard argues passionately that women still face inequality in almost every aspect of their lives, and that feminism is still one of the most urgent and relevant social justice campaigns of today. Banyard sets out the makor issues for twenty-first century feminism, from the growing power of the sex industry to the widening pay gap to the myths and taboos which still surround rape and domestic violence. At the heart of the book are more than a hundred interviews with a diverse range of women who have been affected by gender inequality. Their stories show how sexism is intimately woven into people's everyday lives, and how it hurts both women and men. Banyard also draws on her own campaign experience as well as academic research.<br />
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<b>About the author</b><br />
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Kat Banyard was born in 1982 and is the founder of FEM conferences, an acclaimed series of national feminist conferences. She is one of the founders and Co-Directors of UK Feminista, a new feminist activist orginastion, and until recently was the Campaigns Officer at Fawcett Society, the UK's leading campaign for women's rights. Prior to her work at Fawcett, Kat worked for a refugee organisation in Sheffield, setting up wonmen's groups. She now lives in London and this is her first book.<br />
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<b>*New comment system*</b>- some of you may have noticed I changed my comment system to DISQUS recently. I did it so that anybody anywhere can comments not just people on blogger, and it also means I can reply to each individual comment- yay!. But it's gone and deleted all my old comments from blogger :(( so it looks like I'm a loner who has no comments! I got all your comments on my Beyonce post, and I enjoyed reading them all by the way, glad you liked that post.hijabi hippie hypohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03980411567308390623noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2359694459221464605.post-31263816466615614652011-05-30T15:17:00.000+01:002011-05-30T15:17:09.701+01:00Beyonce and the "empowerment" of WomenThis post is mainly in response to Beyonce's newly released video, named "Run the world (girls)". So if you haven't seen it, <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VBmMU_iwe6U"><i>you may want to watch it</i></a> otherwise this post may not make sense to you. To give you a brief summary, Beyonce is basically dancing around, with an army of girls, wearing next to nothing, and chanting "Who run the world?? GIRLS!" <br />
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<i>Lyrical problems:</i><br />
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I'm gonna go through the lyrics and tell you why I think this song is damaging for young women and girls. Whilst I would like very much for girls to even come close to running this world, in reality it is not true.<br />
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Beyonce says<span style="background-color: #0b5394;"> <span style="color: white;">"</span></span><i style="background-color: #0b5394; color: white;">some of them men think that they can freak this like we do, but no they won't. Make your cheques come at they neck, <b>disrespect us no they won't.</b></i><span style="background-color: #0b5394;"><span style="color: white;">"</span> </span><br />
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The last part of that is highly incorrect; they do and will continue to disrespect us. We might make up more than half of the world's population, do the important tasks such as raising children, but at the end of the day we are still being paid less to do the same jobs than our male counterparts. The situation is better now than it used to be, but the reality is that gender inequality still exists. So we are clearly not running the world. Males still dominate in the highly paid career professions such as Doctors, Dentists and Lawyers. Women are being abused and raped: so much for <i>"disrespect us no they won't.</i>" <br />
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Another verse is <span style="background-color: #0b5394; color: white;">"</span><i style="background-color: #0b5394; color: white;">This goes out to all my girls that's in the club rocking the latest. Who will buy it for themselves and get more money later</i><span style="background-color: #0b5394; color: white;">." </span><br />
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So here B is trying to promote financial independence. I'm not against this at all, but, Islamically, the Man has to provide for the woman and take care of her. It's not to say that she can't have an income or work, or that she is the weaker gender, it is his right at the end of the day to provide for her. Just putting that out there. It's nice to be taken care of sometimes.<br />
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She then says <span style="background-color: #0b5394; color: white;">"</span><i style="background-color: #0b5394; color: white;">I think I need a barber, none of these <b>hoes</b> can fade me</i><span style="background-color: #0b5394; color: white;">."</span> I have no idea what she means by that, but I for one do not stand for being called a hoe. In case you need reminding, "hoe" is short for whore; a female prostitute. Why would you want to call yourself that? (Or other girls for that matter). It's bad enough that all the rap songs out there degrade women by calling them all kinds of insulting derogatory names, but the fact that we have turned this on its head and started calling ourselves such names is just ridiculous. How many times have you heard people calling themselves bitches and sluts, or seen it across someone's chest on a T-shirt?? All too often. It is really not constructive. I can understand how you can take something derogatory and label yourself as being that, in order for the word to become less derogatory. This can be demonstrated with the N-word, which is thrown about in rap songs left, right and centre. But has it worked? I don't know.<br />
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<i><span style="background-color: #0b5394; color: white;">"Boy im just playing, come here baby. Hope you still like me, If you hate me.."</span> </i>Here it seems that Beyonce didn't actually mean what she just said, and kinda goes back on herself, which is confusing. I think she's highlighting the point that the boys aren't happy when girls are independent or have any kind of power, so she pretends she was just kidding and hopes he still likes her, because she's admitting that we do need men at the end of the day. That just sends out such a contradictory message. Either you run the world or you don't, there can't be any in betweens.<br />
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She then says, rather seductively, may I add: <span style="background-color: #0b5394; color: white;">"</span><i style="background-color: #0b5394; color: white;">you'll do anything for me</i><span style="background-color: #0b5394; color: white;">".</span> Looking like that, which man won't?!?<br />
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She continues later: <i><span style="background-color: #0b5394; color: white;">"Boy you know you love it: How we're smart enough to make these millions</span><br style="background-color: #0b5394; color: white;" /><span style="background-color: #0b5394; color: white;"> Strong enough to bare the children, Then get back to business. See, you better not play me."</span> </i>Ok B first of all, you have no children so you wouldn't have a clue about childbirth (neither would I for that matter). How many women do you know who have children and still make millions..? This sends out a highly unrealistic message to girls; which says that you should give birth to children yet in this capitalistic society you can also go back to work and make millions. Err... hello?? What about the child?! Who is going to raise this child to be happy, healthy and with good morals? Society? Well they'll definitely turn out messed up if you leave it to society. Most Mothers give up work to look after and care for their children, it won't just magically happen, and those that do go back to work are usually part time or only return once the child starts school. This gives a false impression to young women who will think that they can still do everything. We have limits, we are only human. Of course there are women, single mothers, who have no choice but the go back to work; but what's for sure is that they will not be making millions.<br />
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<i>Visual problems:</i><br />
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The main visual problem with this, and many other videos by Female artists is that by wearing less clothes and dancing about we are somehow becoming empowered; by using our sexuality to our advantage empowers us. (I was going to put some pictures as reminders but decided that your eyes do not need to be exposed to it). Anyway, this is highly dangerous. This then impies that our sexuality defines us. This is damaging as young girls emulate such singers; and will copy what they are wearing or doing in the videos. They are given the message that disrespecting yourself and displaying your beauty is actually empowerment. And that is really no good, because women are then seen as sex objects or pieces of meat. Women and sex can sell anything, be it a car or a laptop. Our beauty and worth has been degraded to sex; nothing more nothing less. Since we are perceived as mere objects, our value falls below that of a human, since an inaminate object is worth less than a human being. This causes us to be subject to all kinds of physical and emotional abuse; be it domestic violence or rape. This has damaged our worth and our power as women or even humans; and yet Beyonce is claiming that by being scantily clad we somehow run the world. Well, unfortunately, we don't.<br />
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How many females do you see in Parliament, or in the US Senate? Not many; just a handful. So if we're not even in government, how the hell are we supposedly running the world? <br />
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Beyonce herself should be more than familiar with the prejudices that females face, as highlighted in her song "<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3WkXPPLiZOY"><i>If I were a Boy</i></a>", even if it's more about relationships than female empowerment. The song bascially highlights how much easier it is for guys in this world. She is basically saying how much better she would treat a girl if she were a boy, because she knows how hard it is. This is also demonstrated in the <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_HKH7Emy1SY"><i>Ciara song "like a boy"</i></a>; which demonstrates how guys can be "players" and abuse women and mistreat them, so what would happen if the roles were switched? It would be highly inappropriate for a woman to act in that manner, so why do guys get away with it? <br />
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Oh, watch this as well, it's a great summary in response to Beyonce's new video: <br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/p72UqyVPj54" width="510"></iframe><br />
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I'll leave you with this lovely Hadith:<br />
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<i><b style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">"Treat women nicely, for a women is created from a rib, and the most curved portion of the rib is its upper portion, so, if you should try to straighten it, it will break, but if you leave it as it is, it will remain crooked. So treat women nicely."</b> </i>Bukhari, 4:55:548.hijabi hippie hypohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03980411567308390623noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2359694459221464605.post-31299525941373598002011-05-26T23:59:00.000+01:002011-05-26T23:59:55.560+01:00My first day of workSome of you may know from Twitter that I recently got a job, Alhamdulillah. I work as a sales representative for a Student Accommodation company; handing out leaflets and showing people the flats. I'm mainly doing it for the experience.<br />
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Anyway, I had my job interview on Monday, he was really impressed and said yes straight away, which was nice, and then told me to come back on Thursday to sign the contract etc. So I went today thinking I was just about to sign a piece of paper, and he told me I'd actually be working today. In my head I was thinking crap, I am so not prepared for this, it's raining and cold, but I was like yeah, sure, that's fine. I was told I'd be joined by some other girls later on. I was handed my lanyard (which is a license from the council to prove I'm allowed to distribute leaflets) given a <b>massive wad</b> of leaflets and off I went.<br />
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It was pouring it down, and the weather was just terrible. But, anyway, with the hope that it may improve, I forced myself to wear a smile and do my best. I was a bit apprehensive about approaching people and giving them leaflets, but as soon as I started doing it, it became easier and easier. I didn't even seem to mind that I was getting soaked. My hands were just freezing and I left my gloves at home ! :(<br />
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So I soon discovered there are <i>six types </i>of responses that people have when you try to hand them a leaflet:<br />
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1) <b><i>The rude ones:</i></b> this only happened once or twice, thankfully. The ones that either don't even acknowledge your presence and refuse to even look at you or respond, or the ones that shout "DO I LOOK LIKE I EFFIN' GO TO THIS UNI???!!" This actually did happen to me. It's a wonder I managed to stop myself from spontaneously erupting into tears.<br />
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2)<b><i> The ones that say "no thanks" before you even finish your sentence</i></b>. These types of people irk me, but what can I do? They don't even give you a chance to say your bit. Oh well. At least they are polite<br />
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3) <i><b>The type that will smile and take a leaflet AND thank you for it. </b></i>These are the best types, naturally. I do heart them. As long as there are more people doing this, then it's all ok. They respond to your questions, and acknowledge your presence. Yipee. I do love the general public who fall under this category.<br />
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4) <i><b>The type that actually come up to you asking you for a leaflet! </b></i>These are just awesome. There's no other word for it.<br />
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5) <i><b>The type that take a leaflet off you, then realise what it's for, and then hand it you straight back. </b></i>That was annoying, but at least they are saving unwanted paper. :)<br />
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6) <i><b>The type that just take the damn leaflet off you to shut you up, or out of sympathy.</b></i> I think more happened due to the latter. I guess I got desperate one a few occasions. The weather was horrible and I was tired.<br />
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I think that just about covers it. But yeah, it was a good experience, tiring nonetheless. It will take me a while to get used to it. I really don't mind approaching people now. I hope the other girls turn up tomorrow, inshaAllah. But I didn't mind being on my own. I really hope the weather brightens up soon too! I will be doing this from May till September and I want some sunshine- it brings out the best in people :) <br />
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<i style="background-color: #0b5394; color: white;">**If there are any spelling or grammatical mistakes above it is because I am absolutely cream crackered from my first HARD days' work</i><span style="color: black;"> ! </span>hijabi hippie hypohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03980411567308390623noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2359694459221464605.post-41579931520836838562011-05-14T23:58:00.002+01:002011-05-15T00:09:23.208+01:00You look at me it's like you hit me with lightning<i>I haven't blogged in forever since I've been drowning in revision; apologies for neglicting you. I've been meaning to post this for a while now, but blogger was down and it took me forever to find suitable gifs. Anyway, here goes:</i><br />
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You will have to forgive me on how <i><b>infantile</b></i> and high school this all sounds, but having went to an all girls high school, an all girls college, and the year I spent on a different course at uni being so intense- I never experienced this kind of thing until now.<br />
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<u><b>The first incident</b></u><br />
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It was after a long hard day of revising, at around 6pm or later I got on the bus. The bus is usually really packed at this time, so as normal, I headed to the top deck. My eyes searched for a vacant seat, and I found one. The guy on the seat behind my seat was h-o-t, with a capital H, and he watched me as I got into my seat. I didn't meant to stare, but I kept looking at him to see if he was still looking at me, and he was.<br />
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I couldn't believe that he was <b>actually looking at little old me</b>. This had never happened to me before. He looked Italian or Spanish, he was <b>hawt</b>, and he was looking at...me?? I smiled to myself and thought nothing of it. Half way through the journey he started talking on his phone. I strained to listen as I tried to figure out what language he was speaking:<br />
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he was like "<i><b>blah blah blah blah.......... WALLAH!</b></i>" and I was like <i>OMG, he's ARAB!!</i> Then I was like OMG Arab perv! And then part of me was thinking I should give him my number.. but of course I didn't, and then he got off :( his hair was hot too ! And that was the end of that. I told my sister and she said it's because I am "<i>hot hot</i>" (her words) too. <br />
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<u><b>The second incident </b></u><br />
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The next day, I was in the library again, busy revising for my exam on Wednesday. I was finding it so hard to focus, but thankfully, the library wasn't too busy and it was quite quiet. The row of four desks where I was sat was empty, then suddenly, these two Asian guys came out of nowhwere and sat on the two seats next to me. I thought nothing of it and carried on. I looked over to his table just to see what he was revising, and I think he was revising for his law exams. He wasn't writing, he was leaning over his lecture notes and reading them. I was writing, reading, and of course occasionally tweeting- during breaks. As I was tweeting, I leaned back in my chair and stretched a bit- you get so tired from sitting down for so long. He also took out his phone and starting tapping the screen.<br />
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Out of the blue, he said "<b><i>I like your watch</i></b>."<br />
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I was like: <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmfLsvW-_Mi-kKKJWHjnnoKxq4ZVL-jfDqSKKPN2PtNRCVtPt_d_H7C49I-YFH10Bf1yudeio2J4et_j4Zlv8syY9hAoQXLOfGarXR54uXfyP0Y38zPBvcTSZUdfGQtlW68_SxLEtkunt5/s1600/raising+eyebrows+gif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmfLsvW-_Mi-kKKJWHjnnoKxq4ZVL-jfDqSKKPN2PtNRCVtPt_d_H7C49I-YFH10Bf1yudeio2J4et_j4Zlv8syY9hAoQXLOfGarXR54uXfyP0Y38zPBvcTSZUdfGQtlW68_SxLEtkunt5/s1600/raising+eyebrows+gif.gif" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">what did you say?!?!?</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxMeMVRQ2AFXmzFR_lNOpZ1qjCGV2MOf-gWGyO9YblF67iuJyxihlgXLZlWZN0ezeEtSiD12QvJtDJqPOVDlfeUsEGWbpRjxHklxqYcnXGmXf-jK0EZmF5ShRiGMn_0zX4jkcF3Q_Ja6jA/s1600/omg+who+said+that+gif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfMaR91Zfh1iLPSexZNBVTJN90qiGJzkN-_Ytn9W5EoW4Pbl4W0zBov5HGGhkGISZlUi6Vp50ltPx5JQebxyGYY4HbdgaRtfBfTbo970NXzsjDh6n3oQMD9b7BbxeywmlqT5Q0f7fRICIb/s1600/taken+aback.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfMaR91Zfh1iLPSexZNBVTJN90qiGJzkN-_Ytn9W5EoW4Pbl4W0zBov5HGGhkGISZlUi6Vp50ltPx5JQebxyGYY4HbdgaRtfBfTbo970NXzsjDh6n3oQMD9b7BbxeywmlqT5Q0f7fRICIb/s1600/taken+aback.gif" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I was SO taken aback!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5-uizOqF0sQVY4pOhcNVh0WXfv5xfESGZTPmp_kSz0xcwVYzmp5251WtrRrJpvjOa9KC635O3leCv7v09cfi5Ep2q66v0PJXujZBYW18TvkHYYw_oDmQpL5MukreUfHOI5ULpccnsIE6p/s1600/what+gif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5-uizOqF0sQVY4pOhcNVh0WXfv5xfESGZTPmp_kSz0xcwVYzmp5251WtrRrJpvjOa9KC635O3leCv7v09cfi5Ep2q66v0PJXujZBYW18TvkHYYw_oDmQpL5MukreUfHOI5ULpccnsIE6p/s1600/what+gif.gif" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">and I was thinking...WHAT?!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGiu4BFcFI1XRD95VD6vluYnK37RJR9ka-IID6drQhwKv82IgtKgT3JqA6GHDYgrwlg7Ylw1S-Ri2yFzIlGlOAsW2BG7LPkbf52nSGdjU547mCQCEP9MKwlKWB7hEOzYpJWYiS4VdN9i3A/s1600/turn+around+and+smile+gif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGiu4BFcFI1XRD95VD6vluYnK37RJR9ka-IID6drQhwKv82IgtKgT3JqA6GHDYgrwlg7Ylw1S-Ri2yFzIlGlOAsW2BG7LPkbf52nSGdjU547mCQCEP9MKwlKWB7hEOzYpJWYiS4VdN9i3A/s1600/turn+around+and+smile+gif.gif" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So I turned around to look at the guy who just said that </td></tr>
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OMG, was this guy talking to <b>me</b>? What should I say? Should I even reply? If I don't, he's gonna think either I'm rude or that I can't speak English. I had to reply. I blushed, and automatically looked at my watched and held it.<br />
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I smiled "<i><b>thanks!</b></i>" His friend who was sat next to him leaned forward to listen.<br />
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He continued "<i><b>is it a Limited watch? I got a Limited one like that for my little sister.</b></i>"<br />
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Even though I knew full well my watch was <b>not</b> Limited, I looked at it to check the brand.<br />
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I was like:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPGOdhi9W1xaqRleh1XVNAYNaUL25A_nLi632v691Ye_IQLftAf19B-igS6Chx1Ky28rUzJOLJGleGaN7BoDSlY9P8PwvZlW2U2pOPF5-H1A5Zgx7rIFvtvwtkPhwIxHSa-CgCUdpDGDBt/s1600/no+headshake+gif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPGOdhi9W1xaqRleh1XVNAYNaUL25A_nLi632v691Ye_IQLftAf19B-igS6Chx1Ky28rUzJOLJGleGaN7BoDSlY9P8PwvZlW2U2pOPF5-H1A5Zgx7rIFvtvwtkPhwIxHSa-CgCUdpDGDBt/s1600/no+headshake+gif.gif" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"No, it's not limited, it's Oasis."</td></tr>
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I could feel my cheeks warming up further still. I couldn't help but think inside how random this was. <b>A guy was talking to me</b>! And he was sorta good-looking too- <i>result</i>! And he had some sort of a beard ;)<br />
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So in my head I was like:<i><b></b></i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwvR8_XP2E_d6SkVeo9RnJOvm874SL8VClrvWjIvGzZa6eLBj1wQx2aRntQxVH4ztKKwXKQnK9Nj3-sYF5w7H6tCTzaYqqBAitgapn_d7AaieCFCxwGaNdR39-_2VenSpzZ28SOBHA__4P/s1600/result+gif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwvR8_XP2E_d6SkVeo9RnJOvm874SL8VClrvWjIvGzZa6eLBj1wQx2aRntQxVH4ztKKwXKQnK9Nj3-sYF5w7H6tCTzaYqqBAitgapn_d7AaieCFCxwGaNdR39-_2VenSpzZ28SOBHA__4P/s1600/result+gif.gif" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">scoooreeee!!</td></tr>
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<i><b>"Oh ok, still really nice though, they're really in fashion."</b></i> He said<br />
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<i><b>"Yeah,"</b></i> I smiled and turned my attention back to my phone.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsFfk7kgZC3wK6WvbCf7dmLVZZcQxMZVYilTXhQ96Yn2tvN5R00c5nIfNh4ti2e5Ub5m6ddtaMsSfzNNeLUf78uimndPXxXd4TdgwhaYmdnS3ATJfIjvCZlVcICkYNrpLCuiMIQYGY9QCW/s1600/smile+gif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsFfk7kgZC3wK6WvbCf7dmLVZZcQxMZVYilTXhQ96Yn2tvN5R00c5nIfNh4ti2e5Ub5m6ddtaMsSfzNNeLUf78uimndPXxXd4TdgwhaYmdnS3ATJfIjvCZlVcICkYNrpLCuiMIQYGY9QCW/s1600/smile+gif.gif" /></a></div><br />
My watch looks like this by the way :<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3QQzViOO9RCmFN0H81dREsDNVP1e6Cif25QrTjM7AI8zCyFB-e_3o4S1BORnKk4Q2Wk_ffLyhkgTTFr7fhlbG3ji_McdHIe2rF5tKs1yOsPXVmIY4KEA5U-3Vpgw1DeLCpvJtF5lGk8uT/s1600/oasis+watch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3QQzViOO9RCmFN0H81dREsDNVP1e6Cif25QrTjM7AI8zCyFB-e_3o4S1BORnKk4Q2Wk_ffLyhkgTTFr7fhlbG3ji_McdHIe2rF5tKs1yOsPXVmIY4KEA5U-3Vpgw1DeLCpvJtF5lGk8uT/s1600/oasis+watch.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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I don't know why, but this random guy making conversation with me had made me so happy inside. I had never received this kind of attention before. Then I began to think should I talk to him a bit more.. ask him what course he's doing, what year he's in et cetera- <i>small talk</i>..? I wanted to, but something was holding me back, so I decided against it. I just couldn't fathom how random it was- him complementing my watch! <br />
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I then tweeted this:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghsdRSgbOJrS9PDH0KOppy331ZL0UReIo7G1yTsWTcGrfa4qLPz89B0aNR9vb9GhejbsjxyJYsT1xggfdejlOTpjccr-rLjcJgkpsVIdockL2iOfKJRGWG0MQ06iXxlKo7IrSU66SGDRco/s1600/twitter+blush.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="272" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghsdRSgbOJrS9PDH0KOppy331ZL0UReIo7G1yTsWTcGrfa4qLPz89B0aNR9vb9GhejbsjxyJYsT1xggfdejlOTpjccr-rLjcJgkpsVIdockL2iOfKJRGWG0MQ06iXxlKo7IrSU66SGDRco/s320/twitter+blush.png" width="320" /></a></div>As you can see I was very taken aback. Then I left my stuff in the library ( I love that you can do that ) and I went to the stationary shop. I needed some serious pens that would flow well for my exam the next day, I couldn't just make do with a BIC biro. In my head I kept thinking I hope he is still there when I get back.<br />
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As I left the library and headed for the shop I couldn't help but grin, the security guard must have thought I'd gone a bit loopy. I was literally skipping outside the library, and suddenly everything seemed so nice. I was walking along thinking this (no joke:)<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/ttMpE1jgfEg" width="500"></iframe><br />
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And I was happier still when I got to the shop. Then I thought about this quote and how true it was:<br />
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<h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":"msg"}" style="color: blue; font-weight: normal;"><b><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="messageBody">"A lady's imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony in a moment." Jane Austen</span></span></i></b></h6><h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":"msg"}"><span class="messageBody"><span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;">And I was thinking how true this quote was applied to the encounter that just happened. And then my feet landed back on planet Earth (about time!), and I told myself to get real- after all, all he did was complement my <i>frigging watch!</i> But of course that's not how the female mind interprets things. I was still just shocked, I never get this kind of attention. I don't know what shocked me more- the fact that I was shocked that this had happened or the fact that I had such low self-worth that I never expected a guy to be interested in me. I'm still trying to work that out, I think there's a fine line between self-esteem and vanity. </span></span></h6><h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":"msg"}"><span class="messageBody"><span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;">So, to all the guys out there, I hope this serves as an insight into what the female mind goes through just when you talk to them. I feel so embarrassed about posting this, but my sister thought it would be "funny", so please, for the sake of my sanity, girls, comment and tell me I'm not alone in this ! </span></span></h6><h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":"msg"}"><span class="messageBody"><span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;">Or am I just having..</span></span></h6><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd45hzTn71j1GZLGp0zLcLt_762vFWFv77nV9hnJDUXIe6s0-fpkasjOadiWvMXIiiLnFCXyEpuuiOG5tuEHHtseRev_A9343IWj0JS3FUu7yTjOXkpTEdSuCIS3SQPEWzQwo5OKsc4Qhi/s1600/sue+sick+thoughts.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd45hzTn71j1GZLGp0zLcLt_762vFWFv77nV9hnJDUXIe6s0-fpkasjOadiWvMXIiiLnFCXyEpuuiOG5tuEHHtseRev_A9343IWj0JS3FUu7yTjOXkpTEdSuCIS3SQPEWzQwo5OKsc4Qhi/s1600/sue+sick+thoughts.gif" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sick thoughts...?</td></tr>
</tbody></table><h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":"msg"}"><span class="messageBody"><span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;"> </span> </span></h6>hijabi hippie hypohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03980411567308390623noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2359694459221464605.post-27940799884110943572011-04-30T18:02:00.000+01:002011-04-30T18:02:11.795+01:00South Asian Whispers Review (film)So, on Thursday, I went to see a film called <a href="http://www.cornerhouse.org/film/info.aspx?ID=3425&page=0"><i>South Asian Whispers</i></a> with my sister, at the <a href="http://www.cornerhouse.org/">Cornerhouse </a>(cinema) in Manchester. If you live in Manchester, or ever visit, Cornerhouse is the place to be- it has alternative as well as current films, a nice bookshop, and an art gallery, it is drenched in culture. Plus its seats are so much comfier than normal cinemas !<br />
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Anyway, South Asian whispers was made by Shisha Arts in connection with the Cornerhouse, as part of the <a href="http://www.shisha.net/projects/future/asia-triennial-manchester-2011/summary/"><i>Asia Triennial 2011</i></a>, where it will be showing again later this year. It was directed by Mauro Camal and Richard Ramchurn, and produced by Lwimbo Kunda. <br />
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South Asian Whispers is a film that explores the migration of Asians into a part of Manchester called Cheetham Hill. It uses real archive footage that showed Asians in the sixties and seventies moving to Cheetham Hill. It also used music and poetry to explore issues such as identity. It is a collection of the "voices" of Asian residents, past and present, of Cheetham Hill. It also shows how the landscape of Cheetham Hil as changed considerably throughout the years.<br />
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Here are some parts of the poetry/spoken word I managed to scribble down (whilst in the dark of the cinema!) [therefore some may not be 100 % accurate] :<br />
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<blockquote><i>Making home feel like home</i></blockquote><blockquote><i>We are the children of immigrants</i></blockquote><blockquote><i>They came for a better life; for education, for benefits, or was it for escapism?</i></blockquote><blockquote><i>Conflicting definitions of identity</i></blockquote><blockquote><i>Conflicting definitions of what makes me me</i></blockquote><blockquote><i>Unaddressed differences</i></blockquote><blockquote><i>"I'm different from them, I can't do the things that they do."- young girl</i></blockquote><blockquote> <b>How did you feel when you got called Paki, didn't that upset you?</b></blockquote><blockquote> <i>"Part of me was upset, but part of me wasn't. They use it cos they want to hurt us, but they don't really know what it means, only we know what it means."- young girl</i></blockquote><blockquote> <i>They call me Paki. But Paki comes from the word Paak, and Paak means to be clean. So they're actually just calling me clean. Pakistan is the land of the clean.</i></blockquote><blockquote> <i>"When I came to England, I brought a blanket, 20 kg's of photos, memories; lots of memories of childhood, and a baby in my belly."</i></blockquote><br />
This was all heard over footage of Cheetham Hill, footage of a wedding in Pakistan, there was lots of footage of Asian babies and children in Cheetham Hill, which was very cute, and there was also footage of Manchester City Centre- then and now. The camera angles were very interesting, as was the actual footage, and the music complemented the footage, which is always important.<br />
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I enjoyed the discussion of the word "<i>Paki</i>", and the representation of racism and migration of South Asians into the UK, as it was really accurate. My Mother moved here with her family in the sixties, and much of what she tells me was reflected in this film, even though we're in another part of Manchester. Most of all, I love how it explored the issue of Asian heritage, it's always important to be in touch with your roots.<br />
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So, overall, I really enjoyed this film, the cinema theatre was really busy, and I liked that there was a mix of all ethnicities and backgrounds present. If this film comes on dvd, or is shown near you, it's a definite must see ! (It was shown for <b>free </b>at the Cornerhouse- yay) <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwF8_mxNNVVhn0_xsMdZKf4KOoQv4_6WQbYKibu0jZALVk3L2_Io3EqPc6xSpR632El5OPLOLGFpxOOTCAaVDVvRr8KfLcC8Q-IkBUDd1PBiBmtQV_UPzTx7j76BpxnkltlPmtR3kAIqd1/s1600/south+asian+whispers+2.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwF8_mxNNVVhn0_xsMdZKf4KOoQv4_6WQbYKibu0jZALVk3L2_Io3EqPc6xSpR632El5OPLOLGFpxOOTCAaVDVvRr8KfLcC8Q-IkBUDd1PBiBmtQV_UPzTx7j76BpxnkltlPmtR3kAIqd1/s400/south+asian+whispers+2.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Images taken from <a href="http://www.facebook.com/pages/South-Asian-Whispers/153726138012387?sk=wall#%21/photo.php?fbid=178623132189354&set=pu.153726138012387&type=1&theater">South Asian Whispers Facebook</a>, and Cornerhouse website</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</tbody></table>hijabi hippie hypohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03980411567308390623noreply@blogger.com0