Chapter 40 | Dear God | The one with sadistic tendencies

29/07/2004

Dear God

Guess what?

Appa Sumayya has decided she’s NOT coming back to teach (and that to, without even giving us a heads-up)!!!!

That means our whole time table needs to be reassessed considering she took us for most of our subjects.

On a positive note her wedding went off quite well. I was a whole bundle of flour combined with eggs the night before, but it was thorough fun. I mean, how often do you get to crack an egg on your Appa?

I wore a black and silver dress to the wedding and (wait for it) heels. Don’t ask, I’m still wondering as to whether I was temporarily possessed by a rather feminine Jinn. The wedding set-up was elegantly simple. 

I was upset Za’ couldn’t make it. She was still grounded and even though her dad agreed to let her come, her mum wouldn’t hear of it. In my case it’s the absolute opposite in terms of permissiveness.

I got my hair straightened for the first time with an iron. No, not a hair iron an actual clothing iron. Now before you fall off your throne in laughter, let me allow you a moment to picture this scenario.

Me, with my body dangling from the edges of an unsteady ironing board, my cousin Tasneem and our Lebanese neighbour Samiha pressing the iron onto my hair with all their might as if maliciously wishing my curls away and me beckoning my head (and hair) forward with a pull that could toss an anchored ship to its destruction. It made for a rather embarrassing moment when Saadiya (a 4^th year student and my lift for the night) walked in on us.

I didn’t even attempt explaining myself. What was I to say: ‘Oh uh I like this sort of torture treatment where someone presses an iron to my hair and rips it out strand by strand.’ Chilled.

Love: The one with sadistic tendencies

Ta

Chapter 39 | Dear God | An undercover operation

16/07/2004

So much has happened since I last wrote to you and the holidays are almost over.

The stoop outside of the kitchen was large enough to be built into a scullery. Papa would never have approved of this (even though he wasn’t contributing monetarily) and so Mama contacted the builders, drafted up a plan and a foundation was established. It took a two feet high wall for Papa to eventually notice and thus began another fight (entertainment, free of charge). 

Papa told Mama to break down the wall, Mama thought he was really acting childish (which he was) and phoned Uncle Yasser who was of no help at all.

That’s when the undercover operation was set in motion. Daddi had gone to Benoni to stay by Aunty Surayya and so that meant her house was currently unoccupied. When Papa gets angry he is unapologetically abusive. And so, Uncle Majeed told us to stay there till he got here to sort everything out.

We stayed there for three days without Papa having any idea where we were. He came home from work to find us all gone and since Daddi wasn’t there he thought the house had been locked by her and assumed we had gone to Nani.

Despite the situation it was the most fun I had in a long while. We read 41 Yaseen’s every night, prayed our salaah together and even went to bed early. Unafraid of the repercussions that would follow. But with Papa there were always repercussions, even when the fault wasn’t yours to bear.

I realized then how much I despised Papa. It wasn’t because he restricted us from so much (though so many people seemed to have assumed that as the sole reason) but because he was so distant from us. I called him Papa simply because I was trained to do so but he was nothing like a father. He bemoaned our every action and there was nothing that we did in which he didn’t disapprove of.

Papa says that he will never change. I don’t understand how someone can be so arrogant to behave as if they are always in the right. How is it that consciousness isn’t an attribute that resides in every one of us. Haven’t YOU said that man is different from animals in that you’ve granted them intelligence and the ability to decipher right from wrong?

Papa is so adamant that he is right and everybody else is in the wrong. I don’t know how Mama has been able to tolerate it all for 17 years. The indifference, the silent treatment, the narcissism, the abuse. It is unacceptable that one person has to deal with so much.

So that’s what took up the 1^st week and most of the 2^nd week of the holidays. Now we’re simply living our everyday with a half built wall, waiting for Papa to make it seem as if though it was ‘all his idea’ in the first place.

I just wish Papa could understand that the aspect of change doesn’t signify vulnerability, it shows strength in growth.

All this talk has exhausted me

Chat soon

Ta

Chapter 38 | Dear God | ‘You don’t do anything I tell you to!’

29/06/2004

Dear God

Two days of the holidays have gone by and NOTHING exciting has happened. My kind of exciting. Sigh.

We might be going to East London for a week. I repeat, MIGHT.

Appa Sumayya has invited our entire class and a few other girls from the madressa for a get together the Friday before her wedding. The dreaded ‘I don’t have anything to wear’ plagues me.

Mama and I had an argument in the week. As usual it resulted in a long-winded lecture about my attitude. I guess being a teenager is never the easiest part, for both parties involved. Sometimes I wonder whether I am subjected to this by my own will or whether the forces of nature are conniving bitches.

The general issue being complaints of ‘you don’t do anything I tell you to.’ I don’t get that about parents. What happened to looking at others with children worse off than your own? It’s almost like Mama finds this need to pinpoint my faults as if I can’t acknowledge them for myself. Why is it so much worse when one of your own criticizes you than when an outsider does the same?

It difficult being a parent, I get that. Really I do. But sometimes I wish they weren't on our cases all the time.

All this ‘you think you’re too big for your (non-existent) boots’ versus ‘stop behaving like a kid’ is seriously messing with my mojo.

Thanks for listening

Ta.

Chapter 37 | Dear God | All's forgiven

18/06/2004

Dear God

Happy birthday to me!

I’m exhausted as can be but I just wanted to fill you in. Our exam for today went well. I think I scored around 80 something (if not please do something about that).

Almost everyone remembered it was my birthday!! The house phone rang at 6:30 this morning and obviously it was Nani calling to wish me, no one else is consciously awake at that time of the morning.

(Be tea dubs, Appa Laila has taken to calling me her QT pie, oddly enough I’m totally OK with that :D )

Overall, it was a rather splendid birthday.

Over and Out.

Love: Me

21/06/2004

Dear God

What’s up you ask?

Well for starters, exams is over in three days time!! Then it’s holidays!! Whoop Whoop!! I was knocked out with the flu since Friday and that means I spent the entire weekend in bed. Not that that’s generally problematic but when you’re writing Usool the Monday it should suffice to say that the mere thought of it alone was enough to induce a virus into my being (yes, I probably caught a bug, but allow me this moment of dramatics won’t you?)

I confronted Appa Sumayya with regards to what she had said to Za and she claims to have not said it out of spite. More so, because there is a noticeable change in my personality when I’m around Za as opposed to when I’m on my own. I didn’t beg to differ, mainly because I didn’t have a standpoint that would give me a solid argument.

In honesty, I knew exactly what she was talking about. I’m just not sure I’m willing to acknowledge any such transition.

Even though I had forgiven Za, I still wasn’t able to look at her in the same light. After all the things she had said to me, I don’t think anybody else would have forgotten it that easily.

Mama just came into my room to ask if I’d like hot chocolate and popcorn (as if I’d say no). How sweet. And yes, she’s wearing her pink tracksuit, again. 

Appa Sumayya’s in-laws are arriving from Australia this week. She’s excited and naturally, nervous. It’s the first time she’s meeting them since she met their son, I don’t blame her for being somewhat anxious. His parents are pretty chilled with her and the wedding date has already been set.

Quote of the day: ‘It doesn’t take any more time to look at the good in life than (it does) to look at the bad.’

Gotta go (I’m choking on my popcorn here. YOU won’t be having a hand in that by any chance, would YOU?)

Love: Me

Chapter 36 | Dear God | An unexpected outburst

12/06/2004

Dear God

I’ve been so busy trying to organize my life that I’ve barely had time to study. Ok, I admit I don’t ordinarily study but it’s close to half term and I’m SUPPOSE to be studying.

I’m sitting in the car waiting for my mum as I write this. Recently Za (Short for Zahra) and I had a huge fight (this being after the whole ‘letter’ incident’).

Apparently people were telling her that she should terminate our friendship reason being: I wasn’t there for her when she needed me most. I didn’t hate her for this. If anything, I understood where she was coming from. What hurt was the fact that she listened to what everybody else had to say instead of forming her own opinion on the matter.

I actually overheard Appa Sumayya say to her: ‘Maybe you should get new friends and no longer confide in her.’ We were ALL in the wrong, what made me the enemy?

What the hell? Appa Sumayya is as close with me as she is with Za. Or so I thought

There was a confrontational blow-out in the car (right in front of Uncle Gul’s) she said some hurtful things and I retaliated (well, my version of a retaliation at least). It was humiliating, I couldn’t believe she had an outburst like that in the midst of her dad.

Uncle Gul’s hadn’t tried to intervene or stop us from arguing. If it was Papa, he would have turned around and slapped us both, his other hand steering the car as if undeterred by the doings of its counterpart.

Anyways, I got home all worked up. Mama knew about the drama but she assumed the role of a supportive parent and chose not to interfere. 

I despised confrontations. Of all the things that induced fear, it was the thing I was most afraid of. With Papa, confrontation meant prolonged minutes (that felt like hours) of silence. I don’t even think Nelson Mandela’s death would be cause for that many a ‘moments of silence’, even if all those moments were amassed and contained in a jar specifically allocated for its containment.

Anyways, Za called that evening. I was mildly surprised, considering all that she had said to me in a fit of rage. We spoke our minds, clarifications were dealt with and eventually we waved the white flag mutually. I’ve never really had a friend who I was close to as I was with Za, Neither did I have a confrontation that boded well. In this case though, it seemed that Za and I were destined to be friends and in that, a lesson in forgiveness.

Just a heads up (in case you had forgotten) it’s my birthday in six days’ time.

Speak soon

Love: Me