Racism: Of Dark And Light

Harper Lee wrote To Kill A Mockingbird in 1960. Since then, the world has changed beyond recognition for almost everyone. In the last 60 years, man has made progress in every conceivable walk of life. Be it science, technology, arts, religion, geography, or anything else you can think of, we have changed the world. What hasn’t changed in these 60 years, is the way the world treats the Tom Robinsons of the world. Racism is still a constant.

The world has always been divided on the basis of colour. How many places do you know of where dark skinned people are superior to their light skinned counterparts?

Coming from South Asia, I can tell you about our obsession with light skin. I can tell you that despite being discriminated against and being called derogatory names ourselves, we still look down upon black people as someone inferior and unworthy. We believe that we’re inferior to our white masters, but there are people who are beneath even us. These people just happen to have darker colored skin.

In school, when we learned about the history of the Indo-Pakistan subcontinent, the first chapter was about two main races. The Aryans and the Dravidians. The Aryans were bigger, stronger, and whiter than the Dravidians who were the worker class, weaker socio-economically and physically, and darker in colour. We grew up reading about this superior race who achieved greater heights than their counterparts. Is it any wonder then, that our sub-conscience still wants to be like these great invaders?

When that part of history ended, we read about the horror unleashed by the British who came to subjugate the darker skinned Indians. Yet, reading about the great British masters only made the already complexed people of the subcontinent want to be like them in every way that they could. We have always looked up to the “goras” (whites), and tried to follow in their footsteps, clinging on to their ways long after they left our land.  

Racism is a part of us since we are born; our prejudices passed on to us through generations. The names my own relatives call black people appall me to this day! But since I never called anyone out on it, I cannot claim to be so innocent myself. People still ridicule dark-skinned girls and call them “kaali” (black) in our culture. Many of them have ruined their skins trying to become just 2 shades lighter. Despite living in a so called “enlightened” society, one of my kids gets preferential treatment even from strangers because he has light skin, light hair, and light eyes. 

We can scream and shout all we want, but the truth remains that we are all racists in one form or another, and no matter how hard we try, we can never understand how the people at the bottom of the racist color spectrum feel. Because we might not have shunned them actively, but we have been guilty of feigning ignorance when others did it. Today, as the world is awakening to the plight of black people, it is imperative to look within ourselves and weed out even traces of racism, of thoughts that make us think that we are better than someone because of our skin.

Being a Muslim, one of the first things we learn as children, is that all people are equal, regardless of their nationality, ethnicity or skin color. After learning this, how can we ever justify the racism inherent in all of us? Stop making fun of something that no man has control over; don’t bring people down because of their looks; stop making it okay for people to be derogatory about other people; don’t be insensitive to other people’s insecurities. 

The change needs to come from within.  

Sunday Blues: Will This Pandemic Ever End?

The last three months have been the strangest of my life, maybe of everyone’s lives. Due to this pandemic, life was put on hold and a new normal has been born. I spent the first month just trying to get used to having everyone at home all the time. The second month was smoother, and now it’s like we have always been like this!

Before the social distancing and quarantine woes started, I had completely given up on reading. I had a ganglion cyst in my right wrist. Over the last few months it became too painful to hold even the lightest of things. So, I gave up books, tablets, my kindle and to a great extent my phone as well.

When things became really bad, I decided to get the cyst removed and try to get back to normal life. As luck would have it, by that time the world was waking up to the pandemic that would wreak so much havoc around the world.

I had the surgery and found out, much to my annoyance that there won’t be a miracle and I would still need a couple of months to get back full use of my right hand. The bandage was removed after ten days. And then all hell broke lose!

The world went into a lockdown, and the help that I was counting on to get me through the next months was no longer there. As everyone who has faced this situation knows, there is a lot more work when everyone is at home. The kids and husband tried to chip in as much as they could, but they had school and office respectively. I’m thankful that my kids’ school hasn’t lost a single day of studies and are on track for the scheduled summer holidays.

Unfortunately for me, my wrist never got the rest that it needed. It has been almost 9 weeks and my hand still feels uncomfortable and painful sometimes.

Last week I finally decided that enough was enough and picked up my first book in months. What else? Agatha Christie of course! Since then I have decided that right now I’m more comfortable with my Kindle which is lighter and more easily manageable. As a result, I have finished two books in the last three days!

It is a big achievement considering it is Ramadan and things are a bit off kilter with fasting and quran classes every day. Yet, I’m determined to hold on to my Kindle and get back into the saddle.

It’s funny how I’m suddenly so attached to this little device that I have been so vocal about disliking! My love for physical books is still there, for nothing can come close to that smell and that feeling, but I have also decided to reserve a little corner of my heart for e-readers that help you when you need it the most.

I just hope that this pandemic ends sometime soon in the future. But I have a feeling that the world will never get back to where it was before this horror started.

Review: Remnants of a Separation

Rating: 5 Stars

I got Aanchal Malhotra‘s Remnants Of A Separation from Karachi, back in July 2018. Since then, it had been sitting around on my shelf with all the other numerous books that I never read. One fine day, sick from my overdose of thrillers, I just picked it up to see what it was about.

Objects have a way of inspiring the mind to remember things it might have forgotten.

Aanchal Malhotra, Remnants Of A separation

To say that reading this book was difficult, is an understatement. Every story, every page reminded me of my grandparents. These stories are their stories; of hardship and resilience at the time of the partition of India. The horrors that both the sides witnessed, the loss, the displacement, the helplessness, it all becomes real as you read the accounts of some very real people. This is not fiction, yet sometimes that is all you want it to be.

Not everything is about darkness and despair though. While the actual time of the partition was traumatic, most of the narrators reminisce about their youth in a way that is endearing. It makes you want to return to your own childhood. Even with this lightness, the fact remains that circumstances forced most of these people to let go of their dreams. They had to grow up overnight.

Almost all these stories have one thing similar in them; the suppression of conscious memory of those dark times. They might never have talked about the past to their own families, but when they finally talk about it, all of them become fascinating story tellers, each with their own unique story. Yet all these stories are essentially the same.

Displacement, often sudden and mostly in the dark of the night, is a frightening concept. The thought of leaving all your worldly goods behind and starting anew in a place where you have no roots and nothing to fall back on, is a scary one. Add to that, the breakdown of common human decency and a return to barbarianism, and it’s no wonder everyone wants to suppress their memories of such times.

Reading Remnants Of A Separation gave birth to a lot of regrets too. I wish I had thought of documenting the lives of my grandparents while they were alive. The stories that I heard growing up became blurred and clouded by the passage of time. Maybe because while they were being told, no one was really interested in listening. My son did a unit on displacement last year, and I will be eternally grateful to his school because when he interviewed my paternal uncle for the unit, I learned the harrowing story of a 6-year-old boy who came to Pakistan without his parents. I never knew the details, and never bothered to ask either.

Aanchal Malhotra has done something that I wish I had been able to do. I wanted to keep reading and never stop. Remnants Of A Separation is the type of book that we should make our children read. Textbooks teach us only one side of history, often biased and mostly opinionated. We need to know our past and learn from it, not glorify and worship it.

As a Pakistani, I can only be thankful that Pakistan came into being that August in 1947, but the way it was done, and the politics of division that made men into animals, is something that no one, Pakistani, Indian or Bangladeshi, can ever condone. Anger, intolerance, greed, these words can never define the destruction that was caused by human hands. It was, and will always be, a dark blot on humanity. All of us need to revisit that time again and again so that we never forget the lessons that the Partition taught us.

Review: Someone We Know

Rating: 4 Stars

Shari Lapena is an author I can always rely on to deliver the goods. Her book, The Couple Next Door, is one that I recommend to anyone who wants to read thrillers. While her other books are not as highly recommended, Someone We Know comes quite close. The twists and turns leave the reader breathless, and the ending makes them gasp. Just the way it always does with good thrillers.

The story starts with a teenager who has been breaking and entering into several homes in his suburban neighborhood in upstate New York. His intention is not of stealing or causing harm. All he wants is to hack a few computers and boast about it to one of his friends. However, things start to go downhill once his parents find out what he has been up to.

At the same time, a woman down his street is murdered quite gruesomely. The ensuing investigation is causing all sorts of problems in the neighborhood. When a couple of homeowners receive anonymous letters telling them that their houses have been broken into, the whole neighborhood becomes a hotbed of intrigue and secrets. Now the police is having trouble trying to separate facts from lies and omissions.

Lapena weaves a complicated web of truths, half-truths and outright lies, that make it difficult to guess who is guilty of what. It seems that in this neighborhood, no one is innocent.

I will also admit that having a teenager and a tween myself, I couldn’t help but empathize with Olivia Sharpe. There really is no manual on how to raise kids. Once they enter their teens, you can only hope that what you have given them is enough for them to come out unscathed on the other side.

I can also sympathize with Raleigh. It’s not easy to walk the boring path when everyone around you is having fun falling off it. Peer pressure has made kids do worse in real life. Also, you have to give the poor kid some leeway. After all, he has to live with that name all his life!

Overall, Someone We Know is a good thriller that made me glad I took out the time to read it.

Review: Th1rt3en

Rating: 3.75 Stars

I love police procedurals and courtroom dramas if they’re crisp and don’t go into boring details. Thirteen by Steve Cavanagh is one such book. The pace is fast, and it shows both perspectives. This means no over-explaining and unnecessary detail. After I finished reading, I found out that this is the fourth book in a series, but it worked as a stand alone for me.

A high profile murder case is about to go on trial. The defense thinks the accused is innocent of the crime; the evidence against the accused is overwhelming. The real killer will go to any length to make sure the accused is found guilty.

The defense believes that the police is trying to frame their famous client, so they hire Eddie Flynn, a con-man turned lawyer, to go after the police department, thus taking the fall in case things didn’t work out.

The real killer has his own plans of infiltrating the jury and making sure that nothing stands in his way. He will make sure that the jury hands out a “guilty” verdict.

What everyone underestimates, is Eddie Flynn himself. When things start getting out of hand, Eddie decides that it’s up to him to prove that that his client had nothing to do with the crime, rather he was the actual victim of a very dangerous serial killer.

The action and suspense are quite adrenalin pumping, and once you really get into the book, Thirteen is hard to put it down. Steve Cavanagh spins a fast paced tale of murder, intrigue, subterfuge and deception. A true thriller in every sense. I think it might be a good idea to check out the rest of this series.

Review: The Family Next Door

Rating: 3.5 Stars

The Family Next Door by Fiona Cummins is an above average thriller which takes some time to establish itself, but redeems itself as it proceeds. It tells the story of a dilapidated, quiet neighborhood shaken by a string of killings that have been baffling the police. The serial killer behind these murders has been named The Doll Maker by the press. No one has any clue about the killer or his motives.

The first 20% of the book was almost painful to read, and it looked like the book will be impossible to finish. Things get interesting, however, when the identity of the latest victim is revealed. At this point, the story starts to move forward at a better pace.

A new family moves to 25 The Avenue on the day that another body is discovered in the nearby woods. The Lockwoods are caught up in their own family drama and don’t have the luxury of passing up the opportunity to move to The Avenue. They have no choice but to ignore it’s poor upkeep and the horror surrounding it. They are ready to start afresh, willing to overlook the matter of the serial killings going on in the neighbourhood. However, they will soon realize that not all is as it seems on this street. Everyone has a secret that they are willing to protect at all cost.

Wildeve Stanton is a Detective Sergeant with the Essex Police, a part of the team trying to solve the murders. Then, one morning the whole case takes a turn that makes it very personal for Wildeve. Now, she will stop at nothing to find out who The Doll Maker is, and what is the motivation behind all these senseless and gory murders.

Suddenly, everyone is in everyone else’s way, and things start getting out of hand. It is just a matter of time before the killer strikes again. The police look like they will be too late to do anything about it, as usual.

I managed to figure it all out at the 77% mark, and had to see how it all pans out, but I think avid thriller fans will be able to figure this one out earlier than I did. That doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t read the book. The Family Next Door is enjoyable, if a bit explicit and gory, and quite interesting once you get past the 20% mark.

Review: The Last House Guest

Rating: 4 Stars

After complaining of not finding good thrillers, finally I managed to read something that interested me enough to finish reading in a few hours. The Last House Guest by Megan Miranda is gripping and unpredictable, and you know you cannot trust any of the characters.

Avery Greer works for the Lomans, who own rental property in her small town, Littleport, Maine, which is a tourist attraction during summers. After going through some tough times, Avery was given the opportunity to work with the Lomans because their daughter Sadie took a shine to Avery, and became her best friend. This friendship was only for the summer months when the Lomans relocated to Littleport. It was an unlikely friendship that sparked strange rumours, but had held strong for ten years.

Then one summer, as the season is drawing to a close, Sadie is found dead; her death ruled a suicide. A year later, Avery is still not over the incident and Sadie’s brother and a police detective are suspicious of her. As Avery stumbles into one problem after another, she realizes that the police were too quick to close the case, and there is a strong possibility that Sadie was murdered. Unfortunately, the closer she tries to get to the truth, the more it seems to implicate her for the murder.

The book is fast paced, with something new being revealed in every chapter, the narrative jumping back and forth between the two summers. The chain of events is such that you cannot trust anyone, not even the narrator herself, who seems to reveal something new in her story every time you think you know what happened.

Though the real character of a town supposed to be dark and evil, never really comes through, I was relieved not to have to read through unlimited lines of prose dedicated to a town.

Overall, a good, interesting book after a long time.

Review: The Travelling Cat Chronicles

Rating: 4.5 Stars

The Travelling Cat Chronicles by Hiro Arikawa is not the type of book that I read generally. I don’t know why I bought it, but I’m so glad I did, and that I made myself read it. The story of Nana and Satoru captures the beauty of Japan, and reaffirms your belief in selfless love, be it family, friends or man and animal.

Nana is a stray cat found and adopted by Satoru, and after five years living together, they’re now on a journey across Japan. Nana has no idea why they’re on this trip, or what is going on in Satoru’s mind, but he is content to be with his beloved human and travel the world with him.

As Nana and Satoru visit three of Satoru’s oldest friends, we gradually see the picture of Satoru’s life, and how it has been shaped by the people he has met along the way. In the midst of all this, we are also shown a picture of how beautiful and diverse Japan is. From big cities like Tokyo, to amazing places like Mount Fuji and Hokkaido, we see a Japan that is impossible to forget. As is the story of Nana and Satoru.

Even though you think you’re ready to read about what will eventually happen, it is still nearly impossible to stop your tears from flowing. I had thought this was a book for cat lovers, not people like me who have never owned a pet. Turns out, it is a story for everyone who has ever loved anyone. It is a story of love, friendship, companionship, family, and above all thankfulness.

A beautiful, beautiful book for everyone.

Review: The Turn of The Key

Rating: 3.75 Stars

I will not call this an excellent book, but The Turn of The Key is my favourite one by Ruth Ware to date. I have found Ware to be a good writer who keeps the audience interested while giving the least surprising twists. This book is a bit different because it has more than one twists, and a couple of them are quite good too.

The book starts with a nanny imprisoned for murdering her charge, a little girl, writing to a well known lawyer about how it all came about, and how she is not the one guilty of murder. The book is in the form of a letter, where the nanny is writing about the whole nightmare experience in the first person.

Rowan came across the ad for a nanny by chance. She was intrigued by the ad as well as the unbelievable salary being offered for the post, and decided to apply for it. She expected to be rejected, so when she got the job she was determined to last longer than the other nannies who had ran away before her. Rumour was that the other girls all got spooked by the ghosts living in the house.

Rowan, who is practical and has no time for silly things like ghosts, thought that she was above all this nonsense. However, once she started working at Heatherbrae House, she couldn’t help but be scared by the unexplained things happening to her. The house itself was a technological miracle, with surveillance cameras and smart controls, which seemed to overwhelm her at all points. Add to that, the absence of her employers, and the presence of four girls of varying ages, three of whom were visibly antagonistic towards her, was enough to drive Rowan almost mad.

It didn’t help that Rowan herself was keeping some secrets that made her look quite guilty when they came to light. As she tries to set the record straight, you can’t help but wonder at what really did happen if she is telling the truth.

I admit the book was too boring in the beginning to keep me interested. It was only my determination to finish it that kept me reading on. However, as I read on, I found myself wanting to know how it all came about. I wasn’t expecting a scary book, or even for it to be too unexpected, so I was pleasantly surprised when I read the thrilling bits and was suitably spooked.

This was the first Ruth Ware book I read where the ending wasn’t neat or the matters resolved to everyone’s satisfaction. This just shows that she is getting better at thrills with each book.

A good book, if you can get past the first quarter of it.

Review: Hijabistan

Rating: 4 Stars

Hijabistan by Sabyn Javeri is a collection of short stories about women, with a common thread of hijab running through all the stories. As a rule, I’m not one for short stories. They always leave me feeling like I missed the point. These short stories just sucked me in and left their mark. It is entirely possible that I might be biased towards this collection.

These stories speak to me personally because I have been through the struggle myself. This push and pull of wearing the hijab or taking it off has been a part of my life for most of last 15 years. Of course, it has never been as hard as it is for most of the protagonists in these stories, but I feel an affinity with most of them. There is no judgement about the garment itself here, just the people who use it as a weapon and those who let their views be coloured by it.

I liked almost all the stories in this collection, even those that might seem far-fetched to people who have no clue about how close to the truth they are. I will not talk about all the stories here, just my most favourite ones.

The Full Stop is about a young girl who gets her first period. It reads like a true story because it is the truth of millions of girls who are taught that menstruation is something to hide, something evil and disgusting. Girls are told that it is something to be ashamed of when they should be told that it is natural and something ordained by nature.

Only in London shows us a girl stuck between two cultures, not knowing which one to call hers. It is the dilemma faced by all immigrants, no matter where they come from. It is not easy to give up your old values and suddenly pick up new ones. When a person migrates to a new place, they inevitably become a mixture of the two, their country of origin, and their country of migration.

The Good Wife has to be my favourite story out of all. It is also the saddest. It tells us of a woman who covers herself because she wants to, who is not afraid of what others think of her, whose faith in her Creator is strong even if her husband’s is not. At the same time this woman loves her husband with everything in her and is not afraid to show her love as well. I was crying for that woman by the end of the story, and trying to make sense of our senseless world at the same time.

The last story, Coach Annie, is the sweetest and most upbeat story of the collection. I loved reading about Annie who has to wear the hijab at a tender age, yet she makes it her own, even when she is surrounded by men double her size. Annie makes me believe that women can do anything they put their minds to, regardless of how they choose to dress.

A great book about women and hijab that needs to be read with an open mind and a big heart.

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