Happy Father's Day: ZaidAliT Edition

Hello, dear reader, how goes your lovely summer Monday? I say summer because I feel as if I haven't gone international yet, but if there are any international #isheezers I would like to address you in these three words.

Er. Ma. God

And now that those three words have summed up everything that went through my head in the moment where I entertained the idea of having international readers I shall move on to today's blog spot.

Before I go any further I should clarify that today's blog post is not about me (I know, I'm disappointed too) rather it is inspired by a Father's Day video that I stumbled across on Twitter.

I don't know if you know him, but this young man seems to be quite popular. Especially with the younger generation of the brown community.

He goes by the name ZaidAliT and he is a comedian who posts up memes, videos and tweets that  relate very well to the brown community. After doing some research on him (sorry ZaidAliT for sounding like a creeper) he piqued my curiosity.

Here is an example of my favourite meme from him.

I literally LOL-ed out loud. It was a lot of work.

For those who don't speak the brown language (Urdu/Hindi) the word shabash loosely translates into, "Bravo, well done! What an achievement!"

Here's another one that resonates very well with the brown culture:

That pretty much how it is.

But here is what made ZaidAliT stand out for me.

Apart from his witty jokes and interactive videos, ZaidAliT grounds certain values in his viewers that are slowly becoming extinct. These values include honesty, compassion, respect, empathy, and selflessness.

There is a video of him surprising a Walmart cashier woman for Mother's Day with a flower, just because.

How sweet.

Not only that, this individual is helping to bring an understanding of the younger generation and the older generation closer. His posts highlight the struggles of a young, brown individual with parents, society, and religion, but at the same time these posts hold an underlining of understanding.

An understanding of what?

ZaidAliT, dear reader, very cleverly forces you to understand the situation from an older person's perspective, for example, parents.

His recent Father's Day video did just that.

He has posted memes and tweets that talk about the whimsical enigma that are brown dads, but his video, which shows a range of emotion as he gifts his father his dream car, show us the softness that is embedded in them.

Culturally, brown dads are taught to portray themselves as tough, no-nonsense individuals, but deep down they too have dreams and aspirations that have been sacrificed for us. Moreover, in the video, his father tears up, unable to take the overwhelming feeling of love that he feels upon seeing the car and it is in this moment, dear reader, that you look at your own father differently.

Don't you?

He's no longer the tough man, he is now a man that needs your love and understanding just as much as you need his.

This video for me was highly inspiring and a reminder of how I shouldn't let perspective fool me into belittling the favours that have been bestowed upon me.

So, thank you, ZaidAliT for being an individual who not only promotes the desperately needed brown awareness, but at the same time you inspire 426, 802 likes on Facebook, 98K followers on Twitter in a way that is indubitably admirable.

Don't ever stop.

isheeza

The link to the Father's Day video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jaI3rx6BsAI

Twitter Account: @Za1d

Spainful Expectations

Hello , dear reader! As you can probably tell by the picture and the title I am an avid FIFA fan. FIFA month for me is all about sitting down with the famjam, screaming with happiness when the team we are rooting for scores, and booing the contending opponents.

It's a family affair.

Needless to say when June 12 hit the entire Iqbal house was extremely excited and pumped for the event. The first match, Brazil vs. Croatia, was pretty good for us since we were supporting Brazil for that specific game, but the same cannot be said about today's match. Spain vs. Netherlands.

It was indeed a shocking score, 5-1 Netherlands. #Spainful

To make matters more interesting, this match was a reminiscence of the 2010 FIFA final. Spain won that one though #eatSpanishdustRobben! And I assume it was because of that victory that we were expecting the Spanish to come out on top once more.

Of course, the match was a disappointing one, but that got me thinking. Was it fair for me to be so harsh in my judgement of the Spanish team and their efforts? It's not like I knew them personally or something. I was just another fan divided by water, land, and technology, voicing my opinion loudly from behind the screen.

It was an opening match, it's not like they were going to get disqualified or anything. So, why was I expecting such an outstanding performance and more importantly why did I feel that  the Spanish owed me the performance of their life?

Here's the thing, dear reader, expectations that we have for others are unfair. I strongly support this statement because I have been victim to it. I have spent such a substantial amount of time fulfilling the expectations other have for me that I have forgotten to fulfill the ones I had set for myself.

In satisfying those around me I have neglected myself thoroughly.

Although, sometimes we are obligated to fulfill the expectations that are laid out for us. For example, parents are expected to be nurturing and loving towards their children and that too rightly so. I'm not talking about those expectations, dear reader, I am talking about the expectations that are...extra.

It doesn't make sense that in midst of building our expectations for another we completely forget to account for the fact that that person is a human too. He/She has dreams, aspirations, feelings, and wants and you are the brick wall preventing him/her from fulfilling that.

Evaluate yourself, dear reader. Are you a brick wall?

I want to leave you with this thought.

You must be careful, as a person in a position of power, in how you set the boundaries of expectations for the ones dependent on you. For it is during such time that the humanity of your heart means the most.

isheeza

An Ode to Monday

Hello, dear reader, how does your Monday go?

Mine goes as all Mondays go....slow and steady. You know, I think the amount of hate that Monday gets is kind of unfair. If you really sit there and think about it, Monday is the most consistent day of the week.

Consistent how? I'm glad you asked.

According to the social norm of the world, Fridays signal the start of the weekend and Mondays signal the start of the zombie apocalypse a.k.a life. Fridays is the day everyone can kick back and relax. You can go off and enjoy time with your family, friends, or significant others. Or if you are the type of person who gets along better with the carrot than you do with other people then you can stay home and enjoy your "me" time. The point is Fridays free you from the trap of life whereas Mondays rope you right back in.

TGIF.

In other words, Mondays suck. Hence the annoyed fat cat.

Apart from each of us having two nostrils to breathe, we all hate Mondays. It does not matter where you reside on this lovely planet, whether you are a millionaire or a hobo, a student or a parent, peanut butter or jelly, chances are you hate Mondays too.

Even Rebecca Black.

Fun Fact: If you ever find yourself in an awkward situation and have absolutely nothing to say, striking up a conversation about how much you hate Mondays can get you out of it! Or the nostrils. Whatever you feel most comfortable in.

Now, the question to really ponder here is why? Why is there a burning ball of rage inside of us when it comes to Monday?

And of course I am going to answer my own question without any input from you.

Because, dear reader, Mondays force us to go back to work. This day of the week forces us to acknowledge the concept of life and work. Monday is the reality that reminds us of the fact that we need to function and produce results if we still want to exist.

Here is the breakdown of a relationship between a human and Monday: The weekend is like the honeymoon phase, where you are in a world of your own and anything that the Friday does you find adorable because Friday is your bae. Monday is when the real relationship starts, that when you start to become annoyed and wanting some space and practicing the "it's not you, it's me," speech.

But the truth of the matter is, dear reader, if it wasn't for the realism Monday forces us to accept then our identities would be indeed questionable.

N'est ce pas? (Putting the Grade 5 French to good practice!)

So, Monday, I think it's about time you started receiving some love. Rebecca Black, I'm counting on you to get the ball rolling.

Until Friday, dear reader.

isheeza

Les Miserables Chickens

Hello, dear reader. First off I want to wish you all a very happy Friday and apologize if I don't seem my wonderful self in this post. There's been a lot going on and I'm a bit exhausted from all of it. All I really want to do is find myself one of those cute, secluded cottages surrounded by flowers and live there for a while. Away from all the noise, pressure and responsibility.

Now I understand everyone is running the fast-paced marathon that is life and we're all in the same boat, so what makes my issue so special? Why should you, dear reader, read on about the troubles of my life?

Well, that is a very valid question and I have two answers.

One: you are my solace, dear reader.

Two: I am generally a happy person. My smiles are effortless and my laugh is contagious (I'm a delight!) and the recent stress got me thinking about the concept of happiness.

How is a person suppose to find happiness with the craziness that is life? It's literally one thing after another. On the staircase of life you have to constantly keep climbing in an effort to keep up with the rest of the world and, frankly, that is exhausting. If you stop and pause then you are in danger of being trampled or being left behind and so you continue to climb and climb until you are no more.

So, when do you get the time to appreciate your efforts and celebrate your achievements? Okay, let's forget all that. Let's question a more fundamental conundrum: when do you have the time to feel happy? To feel relaxed? To stop and enjoy your life?

In the fast pace of life we are subjected to capture our moments in cameras and videos and posting them on social media to prove to the world that we are indeed happy! And I am battling that for myself.

Have we tied our happiness to a certain someone or a certain achievement or a certain goal that, without it, we will be petty, miserable ogres?

And so I question myself, and my choices: have I tied my happiness to the amount of popularity that my blog receives or how many followers I have gained on instagram/twitter (@Sheezams and isheeza - sorry I had to! Shameless promotion has been ingrained in me through marketing seminars) or whether or not do I finally become a published author?!

To be honest with you, dear reader, at some point yes. I did start to become happy when only those events would occur, but when I noticed that pattern I stopped. I began looking for everyday excuses to make me happy, for example, the summer breeze. If you just stand there for 5 seconds, close your eyes, and breathe in the summer air, you will be transported to another world. Do it, before summer melts into winter.

I urge you to look around in your life and find excuses to be happy. Defy the rules of the world and society, be the rebel, and stop climbing those steps. Sit down on them and look around to appreciate the view that surrounds you and maybe, just maybe, extend your hand to the one below you.

Aladdin said it best, dear reader, "It's a whole new world with a fantastic point of view."

Because from where I'm sitting, it is indeed a fantastic point of view!

The Quest to Perfection.

Hello, dear reader! Can you believe the picture that I just found on Google? It just spoke to me!

Confession: When I was a teenager I wanted to be that uncle. The perfect cook, an expert in every dish invented on this planet. That was of course before Master Chef, Hell's Kitchen and Iron Chef. I wouldn't last a minute in any of these shows and as a testament to that I completely forgot to add salt in tonight's dinner (sorry famjam!).

Anyways, today I wanted to dabble a little bit about the concept of perfection. It all started when I was about to sit down and create my masterpiece. Of course, like every good author, I had imagined every possible scenario of my glamorous life as a successful author before getting a single word down. After planning out my book tour I decided to use Google for something a little more productive.

According to Google, dear reader, a good novel must have a gripping  beginning. This will trap the reader into your world and force them to stay glued to the words that you have woven together. I'm talking eating with one hand and reading with the other or reading under the blanket with a torch hoping to God that your parents don't catch you (all of which I have done, nerd alert).

The minute I read this writing tidbit I knew I had to come up with a brilliant beginning! A beginning so good that you wanted to read it over and over and over! So, I sat there and started writing out my first line.

It was ridiculously hard. I have never written stupider sentences in my life. I'll give you an example, "The light turned on and then off."

Yeah. I know.

After 3 hours of sentences that became weirder and weirder, I was certain that there was no such thing as a good beginning.

And so I Googled, again. This time typing the words, "the world's most epic novel beginning" into the search engine.

Do you know what happened, dear reader? I found the beginning of all beginnings.

I can never forget those 9 words. They are forever embedded in my brain because of their brilliance.

"Even the October sky wore black to her funeral."

I know, right?

Mind blown.

How can anyone measure up to that? How does someone achieve that level of perfection? It's impossible.

So, I cried for 3 hours and told myself that becoming an author wasn't me. There was no way I could put together words to create brilliance like that.

I gave up.

I went back to living my life, doing everything just the way I had done it before. Nothing changed.

And then one day, I was sitting on my bed, bored, and I opened up a blank document and began typing.

I didn't read what I wrote, I didn't worry about the flow of the words and I certainly didn't Google anything.

An hour later, I had 800 words on the page and when I read them, dear reader, they sounded good. I liked what I had created. I don't know what to call my writing or how people would react to it but I realized that I didn't care.

Me, right now, writing this blog, defines me. When I write I am in a different world, a world where time and responsibilities don't exist and I like being there. I am transported in this beautiful world of words and sentences and I don't want to leave.

My novel is not perfection (yeah, right!) but it is mine. I will choose the measurement of my success, of my words, and of my creation.

Not anyone else. Once you've got that down, dear reader, you tend to surprise yourself and, to me, is worth more than perfection.

isheeza

Feeling Shady!

Hello dear reader. It is Friday. That means a whole week has passed and my editing still remains to a minimum. To be fair, I have been substituting as a teacher and so that pretty much takes away my editing time.

So, it seems that the editing process is going to be longer than expected.

But that's okay.

Today, I took a ferry to the Toronto Islands, away from the city, from people, the expectations looming over my head, and the stress of daily life. It was just a calm day spent under a tree with fat robins, then a long walk to scout the area, then some time spent on the sandy beach and finally the sunset as I rode the ferry back to home sweet home.

If you haven't gone, dear reader, you must! You're missing out otherwise!

This mini vay-cay (check out the snazzy slang!) that I took today made me realize something.

Sometimes dear reader, it's okay to take a break and relax (according to contrary belief). I have been working at this novel since late December 2013. I have been obsessing over it tirelessly to achieve results that will prove to me and those around me that I can become a published author.

It's been hectic, dear reader, and exhausting. I feel like I am in a race against time and that I have to squeeze every ounce  of what I have into my baby (The Sky Realm) so that I can prove my worth.

That's kinda sad, isn't it?

Out there, on Ward Island, away from the city, I took the time to enjoy my trip. I didn't constantly check my phone. I didn't take a picture of everything that crossed my path. I didn't document every second of my trip.

I enjoyed my trip the old fashioned way.

I walked, I saw, I heard, I smelt, I tasted and I felt the moments by being completely invested in them. The memories that I have of today are all tucked away inside my head.

Instead of worrying about the future and capturing the events of my visit, I simply enjoyed it by just being there.

And if I missed something on the island, I didn't fret about it.

What I realized, dear reader, is that sometimes it's okay to kick back and relax. We should not always be obsessed with producing mass results to satisfy society's cravings.

Easier said than done? I agree. But, I am going to try.

For now, I am going to enjoy my time as a teacher, while working on my novel edits. I may not get through a lot, but that's okay.

You know why? Because this is my journey, so I get to set the pace. And I've decided to enjoy the walk instead of rushing through it and missing out on the canonical moments that may define me as a person.

Take a deep breath, dear reader, and slow down.

You are the producer of your own show.

isheeza

Damsel in Distress

Hello, dear reader, I hope your Monday is going for you as all Mondays go.

So, today's post is inspired by true events on a Toronto subway. Yes, dear reader, true events.

On Sunday afternoon I went out with my sisters to an event. We decided to take the subway on our way back. The subway was pretty empty when we all piled in it so, we made our self home.

When the subway stopped at a station, a drunk man walked in and my sister caught his eye. He spent the next 5 minutes saying things that I care not to repeat. The gist of it was, "not to let someone make you do something you don't want to do."

Despite being weirded out by the disturbing man in the subway my thoughts went to my blog. I realized I really wanted to use this situation to my advantage, thanks  sis!

His "gist" started making me think about the "damsel in distress" situation. About the fact how men feel the need to rescue women from certain situations and prove themselves as Prince Charming.

Now, don't get me wrong. I don't mind a little chivalry from a guy. It's an endearing trait for me, but what I do mind is the lack of confidence that women have for themselves.

I think that every woman has a potential that she needs to achieve. A potential that is supported and nurtured by the her talents. You, dear reader, as a woman, need to make something out of yourself. An identity, a career, a recognition that solely belongs to you. I'm working on mine, hoping that it will help me establish the identity I have been craving for!

What about you, dear reader?

Don't limit yourself to the image others conjure up for you. Find an image of yourself that you want.

Find it, create it and own it because at the end of the day, dear reader, the true appreciation of chivalry comes only after a woman understands her true worth.

isheeza