6 – The Tale of the Flying Beast | Part 3 – The Mystic Teleportation
First of all, I’d like to apologize for the delay in this last (hopefully) part. I’ve been busy, and a lot of other things have happened that I wanted to talk about, but I thought it’s best to finish what you start, so I’m finishing off this story. I know some of you would like to read other things, but I’m not buckling into peer pressure. This is the right thing to do.
So here I am, continuing my epic adventure into the heart of disaster.
As a recap, at this point me and my kinsman found the beast resting in a corner of my chamber, right above my door. I had gone to pick up a stool for my cousin to stand on to reach the beast and kill it.
When I came back, my cousin was staring intently at where the beast had made his home, making sure that the creature does not escape his watchful eyes. I trudged along with my ‘leather-bound stool on wheels with a wooden plank’ and he tells me to hold it while he stands on it. The leather-bound-stool-on-wheels-with-a-wooden-plank shook like anything as it tried to hold his weight. I stood there holding on to the leather-bound-stool-on-wheels-with-a-wooden-plank, shaking vigorously with it, ripples of energy flowing through my body, edging the adrenaline that was already in my veins.
He stood there, still staring at the beast, trying to find the perfect spot to kill it. And I stood there staring at him, for I did not think that two people staring at a beast is all too productive.
BAM! He hit, and his hand retracted; with the chappal flying into the air, almost hitting my parchments of art.
“Oh look, a ship,” he said. I understood by his tone of voice that there wasn’t a ship waiting for us to board in the river behind our fort.
“Did you kill it?” I asked.
“I don’t know… I think it flew away.”
“That’s not a good sign. You know that’s not a good sign, right?”
“No Zaid, I actually thought it was a good sign,” he said, and from his tone of voice I knew that he knew it wasn’t a good sign either.
So we searched the premises. We found a torch and started looking in the darker corners as well. We searched and searched. The seconds passed like minutes, and minutes passed like hours.
“Oh look, I’ve been looking for this shirt for ages!” I said after a while.
The search continued.
After another few seconds, my kinsman says “dude, I gotta head back. I’ve got loads of studying to do. I think it’s gone, but if you find it, let me know.”
He trudges back towards his chamber, and then suddenly “BOLLOX!”
I ask him what happened. “There’s another one here!” As it flew in the air, I hear a loud *thump* noise. He had dropped something he was holding in his hand; it looked like a black flat stone, with the letters ‘IBM’ inscribed in it. He managed to pin the beast by its wing with this strange object.
As he stooped down with his Chappal ready for the kill, he says to me “Company laptop. I don’t care much for it.” It doesn’t make sense to me, but I accept what he says anyway. I patrol my room once more, and then head for bed. It was a long day.
*Notes:
The beast was a flying cockroach, for those of you who didn’t get it. I’ve got insectophobia, I’ve had many bad experiences with insects and they creep me out.
And my weird backward-ness throughout the story was an attempt to show how Desis/Middle Eastern people are seen as primitive people by some in the community I live in now. Obviously my cousin isn’t one of those, but many people here think we come from a place where we ride camels to school, live in tents, and think internet is special kind of fishing instrument. This is how it would be if I did, in fact, come from such a place.
I was planning on going deeper than this, I unfortunately had a shallow ending to this story. I gotta sleep because I’m supposed to wake up really soon for a roadtrip, and this was done right now because of death threats on my conscience.
Thanks for bearing with me, I’ve got a more serious entry in mind for sometime soon! We’ll see 
6 – The Tale of the Flying Beast | Part 2 – Preparation for Battle
First of all, I’m surprised nobody realized that I misspelt “tale” last time. Second of all, this is a continuation of the previous post.
A part 3 is on the way because this ended up being more descriptive than I wanted it to be!
—
As we looked through our chest of weapons, a certain weapon stood out. Hand-crafted by the men of our country, it brought back memories of the good times, times of peace, times of family. They were aged chappals, a type of dagger that also serves the purpose of being used as footwear. This ingeniously designed weapon was done so, so that men can have their weapons ready with them wherever they go, since they never knew when and where they might end up in a combat.
The specific ones that we were holding looked like they were at least a decade old, and looked like they had been through many battles. After my cousin realized that I had the one used with the right foot, he took it from me and gave the left. In our culture, everything of the right side is luckier than anything of the left, and this was no different. My kinsman thought that he, as the commander deserved more luck than me, the wingman. I cursed him under my breath, but gave him the right chappal and took the left.
As we approach the chamber, both of us had adrenaline running through our veins. I felt my heart pound against my chest. We moved quietly. We need not stir the beast that lay in the chamber. “You first,” I say to my kinsman out of respect. As he goes inside, I decide to wait outside the gate.
“Are you coming?” he inquires, as he keeps himself low and walks quietly.
“Yes yes,” I say and just stand there, watching him about to get devoured by the beast.
He looks around, and shouts. It’s right above the door! However, it seems that this creature was deaf because it did not move. In the chamber next door, we hear a halfling yelling, telling us to go to sleep because it is past our bedtime. We both act like we did not hear it since we have more pressing matters on our hands than sleep – We are here to save this kingdom from the severe consequences of multiplication of the ugly beast.
As the beast is asleep, my cousin tries to stab it – by alas, he is too short, and it is sleeping in the top corner, away from reach.
“Hey dude, bring my chair from my room, I can’t reach this thing”
Puzzled, I try to decipher what he says with my vast vocabulary, which does not have ‘dude’, ‘chair’ or ‘room’ in it. He gives me a look I cannot explain, and nods in the direction of his chamber.
I look inside his chamber and find some strange instruments – one that looks like a stool, on wheels, and it was made of leather and had a plank covered in leather sticking up on one side. I was assuming this is what he meant so I proceeded to drag it across the fur floor, which took all of the little energy I had left.
6 – The Tail of the Flying Beast | Part 1
(Based on a true story)
As I was about to blow the candle before proceeding to my bed, my eyes wandered around my chamber. I had seen something move through the corner of my eye, and I needed to see what it was. There it was – lurking behind my chest of drawers – a monster climbing up the walls, moving its long horns from side to side, surveying the new environment it had suddenly found itself in. I backed off, afraid that it might attack me.
A brave man is never afraid of death, I told myself. Nonetheless, fear of being attacked by this vicious creature kept me back. I decided to leave my chamber to retrieve a weapon from the dungeons below. As I made it to the halls, I thought I should see which direction the monster is heading in, so I can catch up to it and kill it before it kills me. I look left, I look right – it’s gone. Good, I say to myself, run away like a coward. Again, I approach my bed, and I see it, crawling up the wall behind my bed. At first I think it’s an ambush, I’m surrounded by a whole clan of these monsters, but then something worse happens:
The monster jumps off the wall and comes towards me. It was the same one… except: it could fly.
“BLIMEY!” I yell and run out of my chamber. I pace through the halls, trying to decide my next plan of action – I had no paper and pencil, so I could not draw it out. My plan of action ended up being pulling my hair and cursing under my breath, cursing myself for not having the courage to defeat this beast, cursing the world for creating such horrific creatures.
After about half an hour of hair pulling, I decided that I did not intend on having no hair and no dignity. I decided to preserve my hair. I knocked on the gate of my kinsman who was down the hall, and asked him for assistance.
“Sire, I am or dire need of thy help,” I said as he opened the door. “There is a flying creature in my chamber and I cannot sleep peacefully with it, nor can I find the strength to vanquish it.”
“Dude, talk properly, what’s the problem?”
“I tell you, sire, a beast lurks in the corners of my chamber!” I say, frantically pointing.
“Oh, shit. I hate beasts.”
“Thou art my elder brother, I shall be your wingman and we shall defeat it together.”
“Yeah, whatever. Let’s grab something to kill it with.”
We proceed down towards the dungeons and retrieve our weapons of choice.
– To be continued
5 – 210 Push ups, 21 km and a website
It’s round about midnight here, Saturday 12th June as I start this entry. As a new (noob, if you would like) blogger, I’m still trying to figure out which direction to take this in. I figured that even though it’s been over a month I still haven’t talked much about life in Miami, so that’s the direction this entry is going to take. Hell, there were loads of other things I wanted to talk about. Among them, the Flotilla attack that happened last week (9 killed while transporting aid to Gaza); Netherlands’ policy (banning Muslim immigration), and the BP oil spill (almost 40 million gallons spilled from new estimates). However, one thing I learned was that there’s no point in doing something that somebody else is better at, and I’m sure we’ve got enough people covering those topics. Also, I’ve had more Homeland Security agents reading my blog recently because of my previous two posts, and they’ll probably check out this one as well, but I’d prefer it if people I knew were reading my blog for now!
Anyway, a bit about what I’m doing. I’m currently doing an internship at the Sales and Marketing department at a local medical billing company, as well as taking a summer course in Calculus II. I’m staying with my cousins from my mom’s side. I’m staying with the eldest brother (Faisal Bhai), who’s got two kids, Saira and Aliyah, 8 and 7 years old. The youngest brother of the family, Ibrahim, also lives here, and we go out and wander around a lot. Sometimes I’d go and stay with Azam Bhai, the second brother, who’s also got two cute little children, Ameer, 5 (he’s pretty smart… he downloads racing games on Azam Bhai’s iPhone and plays them every night! He’s crazy about cars.) and Hira, an adorable 2 year old. I play with them often, they’re all great fun and talk a lot. Not like me, I was one of those quite babies who’d just stare at you if you came over to stay at my place.
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My average day here involves around 8 hours of sleep, 15 hours of sitting around, half an hour of intense exercise, and probably half an hour of walking. I know, not the best schedule! I’m still working on fixing this up. I never knew sitting could be so exhausting! Sometimes when I’m sick of staring at my computer in the office, I’d get up and start doing push ups or stretches. Thank god I’m in a corner cubicle, otherwise I’m sure people would start wondering what I was doing.
That leads me to something Ibrahim and I were talking about the other day. I asked him about going to the gym, whether it was a possibility or not. There’s a gym nearby which would be free, but they’ve only got machines, no weights. He told me at that point that one of his physical education teachers told him that the best workout is push ups. You do 20 push ups, rest for like half a minute, do 19, rest, 18, and so on until you do 1 push up. Easier said than done! It adds up to 210 push ups. My goal by the end of this summer is to be able to do this workout sequence at least once a week, maybe Saturday mornings.
No, that’s not my only goal. I also bike around pretty often, managed to steal Faisal Bhai’s bike from his garage and take it out for a spin every other day. I want to be able to do 10-15 miles (15-21km) without dying. I need more physical activity! It’s not like in CMU, where all I’d do was walk around and hang out with people every day, it’s pretty different here.
I’ve also been working on my professional website (www.zaidhaque.com) and that was something I had planned on doing since before summer even started. I’ve made little progress, but I’ve got the basic skeleton ready and I’m trying to figure out what to put on it now. If you’ve got any suggestions, let me know!
Until then, I’m signing out. What are you using this summer for? Is it just relaxation or are you looking for something productive out of it?
4 – ‘Media – The New ‘Weapon’ of Choice’
So I’ve been thinking for a while about what to put in my next blog for quite a while. I know I haven’t been regular with my entries, and I’ll blame it on my workload, playload and lethargic symptoms.
Abdalla told me to do an entry about how it feels to be a brown man here – in terms of attachment/adjustment, etc. I thought that was good to write about, but the only problem is that in the place I live in, I’m not really seen as an outsider. Miami is dominated by African Americans, and Spanish. Everyone here – including the Spanish people – think I’m Spanish. People don’t give you weird looks, but they do, however, start talking to you in Spanish, and it’s kind of awkward when you don’t know what they’re saying.
It’s more awkward when someone speaks in a strong accent, in English, and you don’t understand so you say “Sorry, I don’t know Spanish” (true story).
Anyway, back to what I was meant to be talking about. I really don’t like the use of the word ‘weapon’ here, because it’s got nothing to do with violence. I know some people who are pretty close in the Islamic Community here, and they had a board meeting, so I somehow found my way in. Needless to say, everyone else there was at least twice my age, so I did feel like the odd one out.
I went in thinking It was just a board meeting for updates, etc. Because my ‘source’ (name not mentioned here for anonymity) was talking about how the organization was disorganized (they needed DSO consulting!)
The first thing I saw was a huge writing pad which said “Media – The New Weapon of Choice”. Apart from the ‘weapon’ bit, I was pretty happy.
The problem with calling it a weapon it that it promotes provocation. The reason for this is the paranoia that some, if not most, Muslims in the States live with–that they’re foreigners in a country which appears to invite everyone. They feel that they are in constant danger of being thrown into some interrogation room to be asked about their ties with the newest terrorist organization. (I don’t know to what extent that is true; I’ve been here pretty peacefully and all my relatives who are here have spent their whole lives here and they’re pretty much fine as well.) Calling media a ‘weapon’ gives it the sort of feel that we’re using it to fight in the newest warzone – which they think is the TV in the living room, the newspaper on the coffee table, or the mac (yes, not PC) lying innocently on the desk. Yes, we do need to fight stereotypes, but this isn’t war, people. War is what happens when you put a group of bloodthirsty people together and they kill murder people calling it ‘collateral damage’.
What we need to do is not use media as a weapon against the Christians and the Jews, but use it as an aid to bring us closer to them, or them closer to us, however you want to put it. And even though the workshop that I went to that day had weapon in its name, that’s just what it was aiming to do. Simple things like writing for the local newspaper, having a chat with the Mayor – these things go a long way. What we’re aiming to do here is tell them that we’re not just Muslims, but we’re Muslim Americans. We’re a part of this country, and we’re an integral part of it.
The Muslim Community here as actually done quite a bit. They’re reaching out to the local officials, and to the media, telling them that we’re here as well. As part of the media, we shouldn’t be seen only when there’s something about Islam or terrorism (it’s sad to put those two words in the same sentence) comes on the news. We should be seen with everything, be it an oil leak in the Gulf, or a pet dog modelling contest. People here write for the Miami Herald, and I hope to do the same (some of my future blog entries might just be what I wrote for the paper).
I think the problem lies in us. We’ve had this thing with having our children be doctors an engineers. Granted, there probably is more money in those fields, but are you really making an impact as a doctor/engineer? Saving lives and fixing people is a good thing, that’s for sure. Engineers are important as well. But the fact remains that it’s hard to make a worldwide impact being a doctor or engineer. What we as the Muslims need to do is get people in the news, into papers, into magazines. The only “voice” that people associate with us right now is the voice of all those organizations that *consider* themselves to be Islamic but take innocent lives, calling it revenge. We, as the educated Muslims, need to be a part of the global community, and in this day and age, the only way to do it is through the media.
3 – The Quest for Halal
One problem that many Muslims have when they come to the States or any non-muslim country is eating Halal meat. Halal is the Arabic word for permissible, and Halal meat is meat that has been slaughtered in the name of God. The animal is slaughtered by slitting through the neck, which is the most painless way to kill it. The blood is then drained out before cutting the meat.
My point is, not everyone in the States cuts meat like that. The Holy Qur’an states:
“O ye who believe! Eat of the good things wherewith We have provided you, and render thanks to Allah if it is (indeed) He whom ye worship” (Qur’an 2:172).
“He hath forbidden you only carrion, and blood, and swine flesh, and that which hath been immolated to (the name of) any other than Allah. But he who is driven by necessity, neither craving nor transgressing, it is no sin for him. Lo! Allah is Forgiving, Merciful” (Qur’an 2:173).
“The food of the People of the Book is lawful unto you and yours is lawful unto them.” (Qur’an 5:5).
By People of the Book, the Qur’an means the Christians and the Jewish. We are allowed to eat meat which is slaughtered in the proper Christian or Jewish fashion, but that’s about it. That obviously means that Kosher is Halal for us. But what about a cheeseburger at McDonald’s?
There has been quite a bit of argument over whether or not it is lawful for us to eat regular meat that you find in public places here. Obviously there are two sides: people who believe that we can eat meat, and those who say we can’t. Traditionally, the majority of people who allow eating meat outside are Arab descendants. The South Asians, or Desis, as we call them don’t feel the same way for some reason. I’ll lay out both sides of the argument over the next two paragraphs.
Proposition: We are allowed to eat meat outside because we have no other choice, and it is Christian meat because we live in a predominantly Christian society. Since no name has been mentioned during the slaughtering of the animal, it is fine because nobody different from God was mentioned. The man who eats it must say ‘I start in the name of God’ before eating, and it will be Halal. We are giving this the benefit of the doubt.
Opposition: Well, we do have a choice, fish and seafood is still Halal,
Halal Certificate at local restaurant
as is vegetarian food. There are Kosher places which are considered Halal and Halal butcheries as well. You just won’t get a Halal Big Mac or anything. Better safe than sorry!
Personally, I think both sides have very valid points. However, I feel that people who eat meat just because they think they can are mistaken. Choosing to eat in a non-muslim country is a big decision, and shouldn’t be taken lightly. As a university student, I obviously can’t spend too much time looking around for Halal or Kosher, so I just stick to veggie and fish, and may have one chicken meal once in a month or two when I’m dying and don’t see a way out.
However, recently the processed food market has become pretty dangerous for us. Not many would know, but even leading potato chips and multivitamins aren’t Halal anymore! Cheeto’s, Dorito’s and Sun Chips all use pork enzymes to make the cheese flavoring, and has been doing so for the past five years. Obviously if we’ve eaten it before without knowing, we’re forgiven, but we have to keep this in mind for next time. Centrum, one of America’s most popular multivitamin, contains gelatin, which is not Halal. Pop-tarts, contain gelatin as well.
Slowly and steadily, everything we used to eat everyday is becoming Haram. Who knows what to do? Some people have created websites and blogs dedicated to giving up-to-date information on what is Halal and what is Haram (http://isithalal.blogspot.com/ | http://www.muslimconsumergroup.com/) Some say that ‘there’s no way we can escape this, we don’t have a choice’ and just eat anything and everything without even checking the ingredients label anymore.
I say “God bless cheese pizza and tuna melt” =)
2 – 3 Firsts
As I sit here in a local cafe in my shirt and tie looking all professional and everything, I thought today I’d talk about the first 3 days: my first day in Florida, my first day at work, and my first day at university. A lot more happened than is written here, but let’s just say there’s way too much happening right now for me to write here! You’ll see a few pictures in this post; they’re all meant to go with the actual text
Day 1: Welcome to Miami!
I arrived 6 hours late thanks to a volcano eruption in Iceland, so things were pretty hectic when I arrived. I was dead tired and just want to get to Faisal Bhai’s (for those who aren’t Desi, Bhai just means ‘big brother’–he’s my cousin) house and fall asleep. He was willing to keep me for 12 weeks–hell, I wouldn’t be willing to keep me for 12 weeks!
Miami Beach
So I left the plane wondering how long he had been waiting outside. I’m sure he hadn’t waited for 6 hours, but he was probably outside for an hour or something. Immigration was pretty simple, apart from the fact that the security official was wondering why I’d study in Qatar even though I’m an American. I couldn’t tell him how much better life is in Doha 
I met with a few other Desis during baggage collection. One of them came from Dhow Medical College, and was visiting family, and the other two claimed that they were from Orlando. All the Hispanics there thought we were Mexican and started asking us random stuff in Spanish… we were lost for words!
After baggage collection and customs, I met with Faisal Bhai and Ibrahim, my other cousin. We left for home. Pretty uneventful ride, but I got to see Downtown Miami from afar, it was beautiful. As we came home, I had a nice homely meal for the first time in two months. The last time was during the IMPAQT trip to Pittsburgh!
Ibrahim got a call, from one of our second cousins over at Virginia. He said he was in Florida until 6am, in a place called West Bay, an hour north of where we live. Nobody wanted me to go, because they thought I should sleep after my 26 hour journey. I insisted on crashing the party, just because it was the first night and I had to do something crazy.
I slept the whole way there and back.
Day 2: MBS – Medical Business Service
I started off obviously by meeting my boss: Don Margo, Practice
My cubicle
This is where MBS is
Management Executive. He started me off by reviewing an RFP (Thank you Prof Andreas for teaching us about this!) and a few other random things. I read the identity guide, which is a 67 page booklet on how everything visual needs to look. They’ve got every single detail laid out on this. Consistency is important, that’s a fact. I respect that, because I’m pretty big on consistency myself. Ask DSO! I complain about being consistent a tad bit too often myself.
Anyway, I went out to lunch with Don and Syed, and we took around half an hour to decide where to eat. They’d start walking towards one place, and then one of them would say “hey you want to eat Mediterranian?” and then they’d turn around and walk in the opposite direction! Syed told me it was a daily ritual. We ended up at this Cuban place, where I had Fish of the Day along with white rice, steamed vegetables, and a bowl of some suspicious looking brown liquid. I watched Don and Syed pour it over their rice, and it turned out it was black beans. I never liked beans before, but surprisingly, it tasted pretty good with the rice!
Day 3: MDC – Miami Dade College
7:49am. I wore my Carnegie Mellon shirt to college.
As Faisal Bhai drove off, I looked at my registration sheet–an almost
My classroom
blank piece of paper which said what courses I’m taking, what time they are and where they are. I only had one course, Calc II, on Tuesdays and Thursdays, 8am to 1030am. Room 7219. I was assuming that meant building number 7. I asked the first person who wasn’t wearing an iPod which direction to go in. First he told me where to go, and when I asked him to clarify, he said he was headed to building 7 as well. It was a long awkward walk, and I wasn’t quite sure how to break the ice. I asked him what course he was doing and he said some math course, and I told him I’m doing Calc II.
“Oh, is that a college level course?”
“Yeah…” I replied, half confused. I never knew that Miami Dade College would offer courses which are not college level.
After another two minutes of silence, I saw a blue sign which said 7, and something written in smaller type. As we approached it, I saw what it said: Reeves Hall. My god Allan, first you chase me to Pittsburgh, and now you’re chasing me to Miami as well! Wow.
Welcome home, Allan!
I look inside the building and find my classroom. There are around 15 people sitting around, no professor in sight. It was 7:56am, I thought he’d arrive by now, preparing for the lecture. I found an empty seat in the back row, and sat down. A few more people entered, the classroom was still noisy. The clock struck eight, and the students started to quiet down. 8:05. 8.10. 8.15. 8.17am, Professor Gil walks in. He was quite a character. He had aviators on, and said he lost his way. He told us that Einstein used to come late to work everyday and would say the same thing!
Honestly, I’m not complaining, because I do not know how I would have done an extra 17 minutes of calculus had he come on time. The next two hours were copying everything that was written on the board, and trying hard to comprehend it all. We learned many things that I chose to forget and hence will not mention here. I should be doing the assignments that he wants us to practice at this time! By the way, nobody understood what Carnegie Mellon meant.
Well, I guess this is getting really long, and there’s going to be loads more to talk about over the next few weeks. Until next time then!
(I’ve been told before that I suck with endings, so here’s just another example of how much I suck with them)
1 – Memories
As I’m leaving my home country (Qatar) for eight months, I thought I’d make the first entry on my life in Qatar, the things I’m leaving behind, the things I’ll miss, and maybe even the things I won’t miss so much. I thought this was the best way to start off my blog just because it lets me look into my past a bit before diving into the future.
I’ll obviously miss my friends the most. I met a lot of people in Qatar, and it’s going to be hard to list everyone’s name here, so I’m not going to put in names. You’ll know when I’m referring to you =)
I’ll miss all those moments in the middle of the night when we’d cry about Ruby on Rails and all the proposals that we did together. I’ll see you in January, and we’ll cry about our 67-373 project because we still won’t understand Ruby then 
I’ll miss all those times we interviewed all of EC for QFRadio last semester. All those times we just wasted time going out for karak even though I hate it, lunches with random people.
I’ll miss staying up until Fajr watching movies and going out on Tartan Card outings =P
Being woken up for Fajr with just a phone call even though my roommates couldn’t shake me out of bed in the mornings
Going for long walks in the amazing weather… it always inspired me!
Our mission to CDF the whole world.. We’re still on with it, right?
I’ll miss fabo-ing with my bros and trying to convince everyone that we’re just and advertising agency that does not promote party crashers =P
I’ll miss pulling all nighters ‘working’ on Java Assignments
I’ll miss trying to hold a proper DSO meeting…supposedly bossing all of you around.. Now I’ve got only one person to boss around, it’s much more convenient =D
I’ll miss going crazy during EC for Haiti, skipping classes and homework for it! I’m sure there’s somebody else who feels the same way =P
I’ll miss the prayers we did at the ecMasjid. I hope people still there will carry on our tradition next year =)
The four trips I had this year: Oman, Turkey, Pittsburgh and Mexico. It wouldn’t have been as amazing without the people who came with me!
Complaining about all the work I had in an effort to get rid of the stereotype that CMU is a party school next to Cornell.. I know loads of people hated me for that =P
Well, you get the point. All these things are from the past year, and most are from the last semester. My three years in Qatar have been full of loads of stuff, and there’s no way I can list them all here. I’m going to miss Qatar loads, and everyone I knew there. I can’t wait to see all of you when I come back!
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