You should love. It’s a verb. Don’t find it or wait for it. Do it. Love someone. Love with everything you’ve got.
the Mixed Girl tag & my views on race/culture etc.
Hi/Salaam everyone! I thought I’d do this tag as I’ve been wanting to do it for quite a while, and I thought it’d be an appropriate time to throw in some of my personal views on race and culture etc (which I was planning on doing a separate post on). Enjoy!
1) What are you mixed with?
– My mother is English and converted to Islam before she met my father, who is Egyptian and was born Muslim.
2) What ethnicity have you often been mistaken for?
– Oh gosh, time to pull out the list. Whenever someone asks me where I’m from I always tell them to guess, which is always fun seeing what people come out with. More commonly I’ve had Syrian, Lebanese, Yemeni, Moroccan, Algerian, fully English (lol) and Persian. I’ve also had Pakistani, Indian, Brazilian (which I was quite happy about!) and, wait for it, Somali. Which is absurd.
3) Is your hair Curly or Straight?
– I don’t think I should answer this one hahah
4) Was coming from different backgrounds challenging growing up?
– No, I loved it! I think the only “challenge” was sometimes feeling like I didn’t fit into a certain category, which isn’t always a bad thing looking back.
5) Which background do embrace most? – it’s hard to say, because I come from a Muslim household (so the Egyptian background seems more apparent), but I’ve lived in England my whole life, so I’m obviously surrounded by both backgrounds if that makes sense. In terms of “embracing”, I think I love both cultures equally.
6) Have you ever been teased for being different?
– No (alhamdulillah), probably because I’ve been surrounded by ethnic people my whole life.
7) Have you ever been ashamed of being Multiracial?
– I wouldn’t say ashamed, but I have felt embarrassed once or twice. A couple of months ago I went to an open day for an English Literature course at my first choice university and I remember looking around and noticing that I was the only non-white person there, and throughout the day I felt like everybody else was cleverer than me or more knowledgeable. But one of my teachers told me that I should embrace the fact that I was different and that it almost gave me an advantage as I could bring ideas from my own culture that they couldn’t, and that advice has always stuck in my head. But in terms of feeling ashamed, like I said before, I love being from two different countries. I don’t think anybody should be ashamed of their race (which I’ll talk more about later…)
8) Do you feel that being Mixed has it’s benefits?
– Definitely! I’m so thankful for being able to experience two whole different parts of the world which are basically polar opposites. Plus, my mum cooks both English and Egyptian food (mmmm – not to mention foods from other places – I’m a lucky girl.)
9) What makes being multi-racial a beautiful thing?
– Like I just mentioned, you get to experience different parts of the world. You get to feel at home in two (or more) different places. I also think it’s beautiful to be able to look at the history and tradition of each culture, even if they completely contradict each other.
10) Any advice to some who struggle with their multi-racial Identity?
– Honestly, I think being multi-racial is an amazing thing. Embrace it. You get to discover multiple countries and traditions. You experience different music, foods, entertainment, clothing. It’s something memorable. There have been a few times where I’ve felt slightly inferior to those around me because of my background as I mentioned before, but I don’t believe that we should let our races and cultures make us feel like lesser people.
Instead of writing a whole separate post on my views, I thought I’d just slip them in here. I’m aware that culture/race and religion are two separate things and should be dealt with differently, but I think being a Muslim really helps me embrace my own culture. Despite what the media can sometimes portray of us Muslims, Islam really is a beautiful religion which teachers equality. No race is better than the other and no race is lesser than the other. I don’t want to get into the topic of judging others as I could write a whole other post about that, but, not only Muslims but people in general, shouldn’t judge each other, especially when it comes to something like our backgrounds. After all, our different cultures and experiences make us beautiful and at the end of the day, we’re all humans who should be looking out for each other, raising one another up instead of bringing each other down. I leave you with this Quranic quote which I feel is a very appropriate ending to this post, not just for Muslims but for all people, as you can see it is addressed to mankind, not just to the believers.
“O mankind, We have created you from a male and a female and have made you into nations and tribes for you to know one another. Truly, the noblest of you with God is the most pious. Truly, God is All-Knowing, All-Aware.”
{Quran, 49:13}
– Ayah (حب الحياة) x
ekstasis, a poem
she is sat beside me,
all colourful cheeks and deep brown eyes,
we look ahead,
music in our ears and on our minds
but I know she has something more on hers;
maybe the universe. Maybe her
inability to think of a future.
Maybe it’s her parents again.
We do the usual, discussing
art forms and our favourite novels,
filmmakers and theatre. Her
words echo. Conveniently the
sun emerges from behind the clouds,
it brings light and new beginnings in its’ wake.
The day goes by, we exchange
indie music and reminisce.
Reminiscing days, years.
A more complicated time.
It’s over now.
I spill out dreams that I’m doubting,
she attends to my wounds with her wishes, and tells me of
her home life again.
Five words leave her berry-stained lips, “what
are you thinking about?”
I consider my answer.
“everything,” I reply, “and nothing.”
– by Ayah (حب الحياة) x
in which Guilt, Conscience and Euphoria meet
This is a piece of writing my friend and I did together a couple of days ago around the theme of guilt. Enjoy!
Miguel looks up and wonders if the sun is always this hot in Salvador. It creates a palette of gold and caramel hues in his deep brown eyes as it beats down on the city, setting behind the run-down streets of Brazil. As he shields his eyes from it’s rays, he wonders what it’s like to be fixed in one place like the sun. Going nowhere and coming from nowhere. But humans are too greedy, they always want more.
It’s what he tells himself as he roams through the favelas. Miguel is the kind of guy who thinks that if he tells himself something enough times, it’ll justify what he’s about to do. He knows this path well yet he questions every step he takes. But between the cramped chaos of the favelas and the bricks that fall from broken buildings, there is no room for second thoughts here. As he wanders he thinks of little Isabella, and his mind creates a disturbing image of tears welling in her eyes as she finds out what her big brother is about to do. But Miguel dreams of escapism and in a place like Salvador there is only one way.
Miguel doesn’t know him very well but he’s visited a fair few times. Once, when Miguel stole the last of his mother’s money from her dress as a child. Second, when he accidentally hurt his little sister as they played together in the streets. And he’s here now. Like I said, Miguel doesn’t know him very well, but his name is Guilt and he is no stranger to the people of Salvador.
They meet in the shadows as they agreed, where the sun is slightly more forgiving. Miguel’s legs carry him there, instinctively, automatically. These things are always more justifiable in the dark. As Miguel arrives, Guilt smirks, arrogance creeping over his contorted face, knowing he would come. Guilt hands Miguel a packet which contains the stuff that dreams are made of. Miguel turns his back, unable to look Guilt in the face although he feels his presence all over him. Everybody has a demon, Miguel thinks, while Conscience gets to work, painting a picture of his mother in his head, begging him to stop. Greed, Lust, Jealousy, name it. They’re always here, lurking in the dark and mocking from afar. Miguel’s is Guilt. That’s how he justifies this.
Miguel takes the packet in his hand, internally pleading with Guilt to go away. But he sticks around for a while, checking that Conscience is doing her job. A talented artist and manipulator, she does it exceptionally. Eventually though, she and Miguel, with trembling hands and a heart threatening to burst at any moment, are left alone for a while.
Soon enough Conscience also takes her leave and is replaced with Euphoria, who poisons Miguel’s bloodstream almost instantly, and he now knows why her nickname is Ecstasy. Suddenly these streets are his kingdom and the sky is his canvas, with swirling shapes and stars. The universe becomes an explosion of colour, an artist’s heaven and a minimalist’s hell. The world is his own kaleidoscopic vision where he can rule, create and destroy. He feels everything and nothing, but only one thing is clear to Miguel – Guilt does not exist where drugs are from, and he is certainly not welcome in his lonely empire.
m e r a k i 