Thursday, December 29, 2011

Bygones and New Year Resolutions.

It comes without saying that another year has past. Unless, you're some sort of person who relies on something other than traditional time keeping, I'm saying nothing new. And of course everyone will be saying how fast the year had come and has now gone. The speed of the past year is relative and to a child waiting on Christmas morning, it would have seem like forever, whereas other (ahem) older folks would be spinning thinking, "Are you serious? Is it Santa time again?" "I've only just paid off last year's credit card bills!"

The year two thousand eleven bought its own unique events, trials, joys, experiences and sorrows. Each year leaves a stamp on your heart and lives and this year was certainly no exception. For the most part, everyone stayed safe and I was able to witness how well my arm would fare when my entire bodily weight would fall on it. Excruciating pain, varying types of narcotics, a fifteen thousand dollar surgery, one neon green cast later traded for a bright pink cast and a number of hand therapy sessions would relate to me exactly how my arm would fare......... not so good.

Have I attempted any of my resolutions I made at the beginning of the year? I didn't make any. Refer to my post.......

Things have certainly improved since then and all those events have actually made us stronger and closer as a family unit. Many have said that it takes tragedy to bring people together and many times over it has been proven correct.

Will I make new year's resolutions this time around? Hard to say. A resolution I once made was "I'm never doing this year again". I don't think that applies to this year. For despite its many extreme downs, it has been one of the more rewarding years in a long time. The highs of this year were rewarding and brought new hope each time. Many of the lessons learnt this year will forever stay with my family and I.

Instead of making resolutions, I will instead try to cross things off my bucket list and live each day for what it is. A gift to spend with loved ones and a way to get my dreams. My biggest dream? To have an agent. To be published. To see my books in scholastic book clubs. One day......

For now, it's saying so long to the year two thousand eleven and recall fondly the many happy, loving, trying and challenging days it brought us all.


Monday, December 5, 2011


This has been on my mind for a long time - brothers.
I just have one brother and every corny and/or inspirational quote circling in cyber space cannot effectively convey the love for brothers.

My four daughters have just one brother also and as much as they tease him and at times make him feel alienated, they love him to pieces and would give their lives for him willingly.

I remember the day my brother was born as if it were yesterday. My dad came home from the hospital that Friday and announced to us that our mom had a baby boy. To say the least, my soon about to be ten year old self was dumbfounded.
 A BOY!?!

My dad was known for his joking around with us girls and I was very skeptical at hearing what he was saying to us three girls. A boy?? No he was definitely joking. That baby was a girl, my mom had  a girl. We wanted another sister. What could we do with a boy? We had enough boy cousins around. We didn't need  boy to play with, we needed a girl.

 In the days after, everybody seemed to go a long with my dad, smiling and saying we had a brother. Seven years after her last baby, my mom came home from the hospital and sure enough she was carrying a brand new baby boy. I don't think we were too happy at the fact it was a boy. We were just excited that we had our very own baby to play with. And what a cutie he was!!

As my brother grew from a pampered baby to a cute toddler, he was often times subjected to many occasions when his three older sisters tried to fulfill their need to have a living doll to dress up. Yes, we dressed him up like a doll and boy did we get yelled at. But he soon learnt to run in the opposite direction when we came at him with frilly clothes and lipstick. And run he did, he stayed outside our house since to be in the house with three sisters would be a fate worse than death.

For those of you who have read my blog, you know that my extended family is quite large and mainly populated with females. At family gatherings, my brother would longingly and hopefully watch the door open, waiting to catch a glimpse of another boy coming in. I distinctly remember his exasperation at seeing only girls coming and him declaring in disgust, "Another girl!!" before stalking back outside the house.

When he was eleven, I got married and left for New York soon after. I did not get a chance to see him grow into adulthood. But was pleased every time to get reports of how he was doing.

My brother became the uncle to five boys and they all consider him the "cool uncle" as he was able to empathize and guide them as need be. All my nephews were often over at his house for boy weekends of just boy stuff happening. Video games, monster truck rallies, cricket games, movie night, car racing, motor cycling, fishing, boating and other boy important things that we girls think beneath us. (Well, sometimes).

Now my brother is an adult, a self sufficient, societal contributing member and a friend. Although, I am the oldest of our family, there are many times, where I have dialed his number and just said, "I need to talk", and he'd make the time for me. He has advised me and counselled me and helped me through some rough patches and I know he'll still continue to do so with each of his three older sisters.

My brother has been married for more than five years now, and will be adding to our family as I have often referred to him as untapped resource. I pray and hope the very best for his little family and I know he'll do extremely well as he has shown with his ability as a son, uncle and a brother.

Brothers................unmatched love.

Sunday, October 30, 2011

Broken hearted

In our travels through life, we've heard that a heart has been broken. A friend's, a sibling's, a child's, or ours. It's likened to a loss, a death, the demise of  a relationship.

 It brings on anger, depression, confusion, fear, pain, sorrow, loneliness, and an insatiable need for sad songs, carbs, ice cream, tissues, chocolate and a warm fuzzy place.

 Along with that, other responsibilities tend to go south as the "broken hearters" soon move out of their normal living domicile to the more appropriate one as featured in Broken Hearts Digest, complete with unwashed hair, clothes, half eaten pizzas, opened jars of peanut butter, melted ice cream, chocolate wrappers, muffin bottoms, blankets strewn around, stereo stuck on "our song", telephone/laptop, smart phone within a one second reach.

The observed (may not have been true anthropologist observation) behavior of the ones who fall into the Broken Hearters category are not limited to:
* stare longingly at the phone, checking and rechecking, making sure the ringer is on and that it's been charged.

* reliving the last moments of the relationship, rereading the snippets of last conversation, last texts 

* stalking the loved one now obsessed about said person

* substituting inanimate and animate objects for the loved one now obsessed about said person

* dressing said unwashed body in the left over clothing left behind by the loved one now obsessed about said person

* self imprisonment in the domicile that would be the envy for every reader of Broken Hearts Digest

* severe anti social tendencies stemming from the abhorrence of anything jolly and not depressed

* developing the mask of the broken hearted, drawn pallid skin, hallowed red eyes, cracked dry lips, sucked in cheeks, swollen eyelids

Dealing with a broken heart takes time just as in the death of a loved one. The stages of grief are stated for us to be able to understand how the person deals with a loss.


These stages are most often dealt with and last in varying ways as with each personality. Some may spend more or less time on a particular stage, Some may rush through some stages and spend a considerable, pathetic amount of energy on some causing on lookers to gather.

A broken heart is nothing to be laughed at or ignored, a person going through a broken heart may never truly recover as scarring tissue from a broken heart leaves a permanent mark. 

But the broken hearters can get better if they so desire and some do eventually make it  and move on, some unfortunately succumb to the emotions of it and never truly move on, others give up and allow their broken hearts to lead them down a path that ends in their own demise. Others write songs, books, poems, music for other broken hearters to relate to.

But every broken heart also means that there was once love, deep love!

Saturday, September 24, 2011

Blog a licious tour


Blog-A-Licious Blog Tour 10

Join Me!
Blog-A-Licious Blog Tour

Come join us on a fantastic blog hop that brings together bloggers of all genres, backgrounds and locations.

Tour Date - Saturday, 24 September
Theme - Punctuality Is Necessary Or Overrated?  

1. Debbie - 
2. Shelley - 
3. Janu -   
4. Ryder - 
5. Dora -
6. Lorhainne - 
7. Shaeeza -  

8. Corinne -


Hmmmmmmmmm, my pet peeve.

I like punctuality, the word itself, the sound of it and the very existence of it.

For me in my life, punctuality is never over rated and it is an actual need.

For my Kindergarteners, it means being there for a full day - from the ease of transition from home to school and not having the feeling of being "left out".  So many kids come to school late missing that very important  transition period and begin their day feeling very disjointed. Not a good feeling to have first thing in the morning at age five.

For my family, punctuality means you'd better be dead in a ditch somewhere if you're late. As a wife and a mother of drivers, that feeling in the pit of your stomach when they're late knows no comparison. I have a very fertile and active imagination and the things that go through my mind when someone does not show up on time would be enough to supply Stephen King with fresh new material.

You know, what's funny? This blog tour is about punctuality and I'm probably the last one to post, but it's in before 12 noon! So I'm not late!!

Keep on reading and please do visit the other wonderful bloggers.
Have a great bloggy weekend.

Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Bash, blow out, feast, shin ding

Eid Celebration

As a young child, I remember being woken up early in the morning. The house filled with the smells of my mom's cooking, vermicelli, beef curry, fried rice, chowmein, chicken stew, pepper pot, dhal polourie, fruit cake, sponge cake amidst all the finger foods she made the NIGHT before. I don't know how she ever did all that work with three young kids. My dad was the decorator and he dressed up our house with streamers and balloons just to make the day special for us.

For days before the big event, mom spent at her sewing machine. Measuring us, and cutting and sewing and making sure her girls were dressed in their best. (See picture below)

The afternoon before would have kids looking out the windows at sundown, looking and praying for that new crescent that heralded the end of Ramadan and made the next day Eid. How happy we were when we saw it and how disappointed we were when it wasn't seen. That meant one more day of fasting and Eid was yet another day away.

The songs that came from our radiogram filled our ears and heads with memories that takes us right back to that time when we hear them now. Beautiful songs by India's son, Mohamed Rafi were played from LP's and 45's.

Come Eid morning, we were dressed and made our way to masjid - La Grange Masjid on the West Bank of Demerara in sunny Guyana. Come to think of it, I don't ever recall Eid being anything other than a sunny day in Guyana. That masjid is loaded with memories for all four generations of the Khan clan. My uncle was the Imam there and now my cousin (who is my age) is the Imam. La Grange masjid has always been home to us and all the aunties who are the staple and backbone of the masjid have known me since I was a baby bump for my mom. After the Eid prayers and Khutbah, us kids were hugged and kissed and given money. There were always the kids who tried to get as much money from as many people as possible especially those incorrigible boys from the previous post.

No one seem to mind and in fact the men even forgot the antics of the boys during the night was Eid and a day for the kids.
The first house we visited was my uncle's house - the Imam, then we walked over to my grandparents' house and then over to my aunt's house where we spent the majority of the day. Come afternoon, we took a car ride over to my mom's parent's house where yet another feast awaited.
Those long gone Eid days always bring back memories of us kids running around in Eid finery, with the excitement of seeing and meeting dozens of cousins from all over the country. Playing until dark and until one by one each family made its way back to their home. Lucky were the ones who got to stay extra days with the grandparents.

As we got older, we were able to help my mom with the preparations, mostly me cleaning and decorating and my sister Farah cooking (pssst.... it worked better that way as I have a hard time finding my way around the kitchen and knowing what each ingredient is used for). My mom still sewed our clothes and she made sure we looked the best she could as now we were kinda fashion conscious.

Our boy cousins with their friends started off the famous "walking" as it is known in Guyana, going from house to house, sampling wares put out by each happy, smiling host. By late afternoon they made their way from La Grange to Pouderoyen where we lived, a distance of approx. three to four miles. Here we'd put out our delicacies for their enjoyment. They ate, chatted and had a over all good time. The night ended up as movie night and more than likely with some of our cousins spending the night.
Eid was perhaps the best day in our young lives!!

This post is dedicated to all my cousins especially the La Grange troupe, Moneer, Shahab, Omran, KK, Talib, Gamal, who now have their own families to celebrate with and Mehboob and Junior who have since departed this world.  I  miss those days.

Saturday, August 27, 2011

Blog Tour

1. Shelley -
2. Totsy - 
3. Janu -
4. Shaeeza -
5. Dora - 6. Corinne -
7. Rhiannon - 
8. Ryder - 
9. Karen -
10. Karen -
11. Dora -

Thanks to Dora for another delightful blog a  licious tour. Please visit, sit for a while, leave a comment and then hop on to the next exciting blog. some have give a ways, others have pictures, all have something interesting to share. Enjoy!!

This week's topic is about - drum roll - "PEOPLE WHO TURN ME OFF!"

Now this list can be either pretty long or pretty short depending on my day. And we get days like that. 

Mostly I'm pretty easy going, ignoring the haters and living it up with the "happy people". I like good company as most people do and try to surround myself with such. There are times when I'd like to press a button and just get rid of the person who just plain fell off the rude wagon. 
I can't stand rudeness or rude people. There is such a thing as manners and being well brought up. I'm not saying you have to be starchy and stuffy - just have manners.
I teach Kindergarten in a private school and the first thing we do together is make up the class rules. They are very simple.
1. Always follow directions
2. Don't hurt anyone with words or body parts
3. Tell me only what you did
4. Use good words

It works very well. Sometimes I think people need to revisit their kindergarten days for a few moments, learn to share, hold hands, make sure your buddy is alright, use good manners and don't snitch.

Rudeness makes me bristle and turns me off!!

Monday, August 22, 2011

Boys in Ramadan

Now I may get into trouble for this post by some very conservative people out there, but then I'm not writing to please anyone.

I always laugh out loud whenever I hear stories like these. I come from a very large family and the stories I've heard from my millions of cousins and high school friends will make any law abiding citizen blush, cringe, or laugh. Indians sometimes are too prolific for their own good. I ended up with a large family of my own - 5 kids.

During the month of Ramadan, many people, actually the majority of people welcome the respite from all their daily struggles and seek to find forgiveness, peace and solace with their Lord. Many young children are given the opportunity to wake up with the grown ups and begin their fast for the first time. Many people see this as an opportunity to practice this part of their religion for at least this month. And still there are others seeking to become closer to their lord and try to wring every ounce of goodness they could garner from this month as no one is sure of the future.

Then there are the boys.

Highly debating whether I should continue with this post. I have already spiked your interest, no?

With the abstaining from food and drink from sunrise to sunset, comes the night prayers at the masjid. During this month, the sense of family and love and community is very strong. Everyone gathers to break their fast and then stay on for the extra prayers every night. It really is beautiful.

(note to my mom - don't read further)
And as a child in Guyana, these nights always bring back fond memories of friendship, laughter, happiness, a little bit of matchmaking, passing love notes, and old ladies giving us the stink eye because we couldn't stop the giggling. And the sneaking out from under moms' stern and watchful eye to meet ..... ahem!

But I think the boys had it best.

In every masjid right now in the world. I seriously doubt that I am wrong. There is  a line at the very back filled with young boys who purposely go to masjid for things other than dutifully performing their prayers. Call it the channeling of Tom Sawyer or the Huckleberry Finn Syndrome, these boys are not interested in the spiritual benefits of prayers. Be they ages fourteen to eighteen, and sometimes the occasional thirty something.

Their soul purpose is to purposely disturb the prayers of the older men who take the night prayers to heart. They will out prank Ashton Kutcher any night of the week. And they would come out smelling like a rose as no one would give up anyone. And the older men had no way of proving who did it even if their suspicions greatly outweigh the innocent looks of suddenly quiet praying boys.

Pranks I know they played:
1. spit balls suddenly flying through the air aimed at upraised bottoms
2. tying prostrating feet together
3. pulling down loose pants
4. rubbing coal on the carpet right where white clothed bottoms will sit
5. starting a wave in the line by pushing from the ends

There are more risque ones they played, but I'll stop here. Almost every night came with reminders to the boys to their purpose in the masjid. And every night, there would be at least one irate patron who is so offended by the boys' behavior that he would be in favor of banning the boys from masjid or better yet send them over to the women's section (which might have been the boys' ultimate goal).

There was almost always some older men who defended the boys, "Hey, they're in the masjid, leave them alone". "Have you forgotten when you were their age?"
They would continue to pray and keep a watchful eye on the boys. Some even went as far as to join the boys and sit amongst them to curtail the "nonsense". But their political aspirations would prove too much and they would end praying up front as babysitting a bunch of  little boys wouldn't get them the position they wanted.

Most of these boys do eventually grow up to become fine upstanding, productive members of society with a great love for their religion. They become Hafiz, Imams, scholars in Islam, doctors, pharmacists, bosses, lawyers, teachers, farmers, business men and great fathers themselves and contributors to the Muslim community.

 And I bet they all carry fond memories of when they were boys in Ramadan. Just ask any of them.

Monday, August 15, 2011


Love, affection, cherish, devotion, adore, fervor, enchantment, soft spot, tenderness, fondness, piety, worship, rapture, courtship ..........

Love is a common thread in everyone's lives. How can we live without it? Do we want to live with out it? Should we live without it?

Some people live their entire lives surrounded by love.
Some others live their entire lives searching for love.
Some search for it in all the wrong places.
Some people even have love enter their lives when they least expect it.
Some people live their lives without even an inkling of what love is.
Some people focus on their love of  a deity rather than for humanity
Some have found a balance of love in their lives.

We all want love whether it's the blush of young love, the love of parent for child, the love between spouses, the love for God, the love for nature, the love for money, the love for knowledge. We all want it in vary degrees.

I have been reading recently about true love, first true love. Many people have experienced it, many have continued in their love, many have lost it and many are rekindling it.
What makes your first true love so special?
What makes it endure through out the years?
What makes it so unattainable for some?
Why does it bring the heart ache, the happiness, the contentment, the turmoil, the never ending euphoria?

True love, mostly first true happens to many people in a young age, when they are forming connections similar to the same connections as a baby with a mother. First true love is beautiful in itself and many people are reconnecting.

Boston Globe interviewer, Carey Goldberg "notes some research indicates that a teenager may attach specifically to a first lover in much the same way as a baby attaches to a mother. "

"This hypothesis was given by Dr. Linda Waud, a Psychologist who wrote her dissertation on three reunited couples.
“There is an actual neurological attachment that happens between these individuals,” she said, “and that’s why it’s enduring and it never leaves your mind. It’s there forever and ever.” Interestingly, Dr. Waud herself reconnected with a long-lost love after 35 years apart." from Shrink talk -

As of 2003, Dr. Nancy Kalish had studied over 2,000 “lost love” relationships.
Dr. Kalish brings up a very interesting point: “therapists tend to underestimate the powerful nature of such old loves, especially first loves. As a result, they tend to tell such patients that their feelings for their re-found loves are based on fantasy and that they can find the same feelings in their own marriages if they only try. But that fails to take into account that reunited lovers really do know and love each other, and a first love, in particular, remains unique. This is not about sex, it is not about the spouse or the marriage, it is not a midlife crisis,” she said. “The reunion is a continuation of a love that was interrupted.”

Why my interest in love and first loves? Simple, I am a witness to it. Many young people I know are embracing the way they feel and going after their first true loves. I say hold on to it and never let go. Once you recognize what you have, Never, ever let go.

Monday, August 8, 2011

Bee Sting Part Deux

It's been almost a month since the first bee sting post. Is the bee still circling? Is he still aiming with deadly accuracy? Is the bee sting still there or faded away? You can bet your bottom dollar, bee sting is alive and well, or better yet still red and swollen.

I started really working on my diet of losing some weight  and trying to get rid of my apple of  a body. I've lost an entire beautiful size.

How am I doing it?
Well ahem, a day at a time.

Eating only the amount of what my eight year old would eat.
Stocking up on yogurt and other healthy foods
Bottles and bottles of water.
Chocolate limited to about 2 Hershey kisses a week instead of an entire bag.
Extra gum - dessert delights,  instead of  bowls of ice cream.
No bread or baked goods as much as it pains me and calls for me .
Fruits although my choice is limited due to my irrational allergy to fruits - hives on lips and mouth and throat closing inducing allergy.

Walking- up and down the rolling hills around my home, beautiful views interspersed with wild life sightings.
Exercise on demand TV - belly dancing for beginners
Rena's and Vena's  belly dancing for beginners
The pussy cat dolls - exercise workout
Wii fit
Just dance

Seems quite impressive? Well using it and putting it into action can be an extremely funny way to lose some weight when you're me and live in house filled with comic wannabes.

The first time I used Rena's and Vena's belly dancing for beginners, I was impressed with the seeming ease of the workout. Very low impact for arms and waist.
Until they asked me to locate my rib cage - Are you kidding? Locate my rib cage and move it independently from my waist -is that even a legal thing to do?
But it didn't stop there - they wanted me to feel my sternum and move my chest using my sternum - are they crazy? I can feel my sternum? Is that even humanly possible?
Needless to say my first time belly dancing with the twins was an event thankfully witness free. Can you imagine how I would have looked to any innocent bystander? A round overweight 40 plus woman trying to imitate two lithe 20 year olds with about 40 years experience between them in ballet, belly dancing, classical and folk Indian dancing. After ignoring the comments from my  family who I remind myself really loves me and  wants me around longer than my apple body is willing to permit, I did the best I could and did feel some sort of burn.

Then I joined Nazeefah on the Wii fit with just dance. Once upon a time, when I was younger, my cousins and I shared our beauty tips - some being dancing the fat away, and we did good. Fast forward to this time and that skinny girl is now hopelessly out of sync and uncoordinated to the extent that the easy songs on the just dance has the effect to turn her into a human pretzel with no hope of untangling herself. My score? Wouldn't you like to know. A miserable score that ranges between 3000 and 4000, not even enough for 1 and 1/2 stars. Did I stop there, no being the glutton for punishment that I am, I decided that maybe doing Michael Jackson experience would do me better. I soon find out that there's a reason he made millions doing what he did. Only trained dancers can keep up with him, certainly not short dumpy me. Shelving that idea real fast. Might revisit him later, or not, maybe in a next life.

Then Mariam hands me her DVD - the pussy cat dolls workout. Have I learned nothing? But then I seem to be a glutton for punishment. So I popped that baby in and hoped for the best.
Surprisingly, there is a great workout there. Easy warm up and the break down of the steps were easy to follow except for when they threw in a punch here and there to keep you on your toes.  This is fast becoming my favorite workout.

Not having a group or posse to compare notes with can be devastating to any weight lost program. But I am determined to do this and I've designated every Sunday to be measure and weigh in day.

Anyone care for results? So far a total of 6 inches lost and a whopping ten pounds - yay! a whole baby, now only four more babies to go.

So I think, maybe this time it will work - I know my muse will be ecstatic with the final results and my doctor might just be tickled pink with my blood pressure.

Friday, July 15, 2011

Blogalicious blog tour

How to stay worry free

Welcome to another blogalicious blog tour compliments of Dora and all the other wonderful bloggers. You've just come over from Roy and his unique way of putting things. Stay a while here, browse and then head on over to Ryder. Hope you had fun and gained some insight on "How to stay worry free".

Usually when I have to write about a specific topic, I like to get opinions from various people, namely the members of my family. How to stay worry free is this week's topic and it can be akin to finding the holy grail for some if not everyone. 
Here are the responses I got after some weird looks, raised eyebrows and gestures that mean "are you crazy?"

My husband aged 49 - pray and remembering God
Mariam aged 21 - yoya after crying about it
Samirah aged 20 - have someone to talk to about it
Nazeefah aged 16 - listen to music
Dinah aged 13 - I don't know
Danyal aged 8 - I don't worry
Me aged (never mind) - don't sweat the small stuff

Worrying is relative according to my family. Depending on the age, lifestyle, and emotional level of the person, everyone has a different view on worrying and how to stay worry free. I have learnt a long time ago and many parents would have done the same as I, to ask myself this question when faced with a dilemma "Will this still bother me tomorrow, next week, next month, next year, five years from now, ten years from now?" and deal with the situation as such.

Many times, the situation can be dealt with as needed, others you need a bouncing wall to get your thoughts together, sometimes, you actually need someone else to put things into perspective. Still with others, music, a movie, a good night's sleep or even a tub of ice cream seems to do the trick.

I have a question though, do we really want to be worry free? Without worry, will we be able to plan for our very near or even distant future? Will we be able to think ahead and make provisions for our safety? Turns out I have more than one question. Worrying whether it's about our health, wealth, children, spouse, home, cars, religion, politics, education is an essential part of our make up. When it not too much, such as borderline neurosis  worrying can help keep us sane!

Saturday, July 9, 2011

Bee Sting

Show of hands all those who have read "The Story of Ferdinand" by Munro Leaf. Great! Those of you who haven't read it as yet - please put it on your "To Be Read" list. Quite a story.

For the sake of keeping my readership, the story is a sweet tale of a bull who was quite content to sit and smell the flowers in his pasture. One day when the bullfighters came to choose bulls for the next bullfight, Ferdinand just happened to sit on a bee. How Ferdinand roared and performed! The men thought that they had found the most fearsome bull and took him away for the next bull fight. In the interest of protecting people who don't like when they are given spoilers for a book, I won't tell how the story ends.

Why am I writing about this? Well I was quite content like Ferdinand and liked doing my own thing, just like Ferdinand. Only I didn't smell the flowers all day. My forte was just happy being the person I was. But was I really happy or even satisfied?

I just turned 40 something, and for some time now have been peering into greener pastures.

I had been teaching for some years now and really looked at my life and decided that there was something else out there for me to do, so I decided to become a nurse.

 I started from the bottom, did a CNA course and started working in the hospital - no bee sting yet.

My husband got into a terrible car crash and then I broke my arm - no bee sting yet.

Went through some really tough times with kids and other such - no bee sting yet.

I wrote a bunch of stories for kids and actually self published one - no bee sting yet.

Then I looked at my self in the mirror - the bee is buzzing.

Realization sinking in that I'm at high risk for diabetes - the bee is getting uncomfortably close.

Factor in that I already have hypertension with an apple of a body - the bee is coming in with deadly aim.

Given a challenge to lose the weight by someone who we will call my muse - BEE STING!!

Now I've started my "lose some weight " plan, not a real organised plan, but a plan - more than what I had a year ago.

- Watch portion size - now only eating what I would give Danyal my 8 year old.
- put that Pilates DVD to some work and gain some return on my purchase
-walk up and down the rolling hills surrounding my home in upstate NY
- make some sort of connection with the Wii fit sitting in the family room
- join the kids in doing "Just Dance" instead of laughing at them

A plan of sorts.
Keep checking back for updates as this is sure to get very interesting real fast.

A number of things have the possibility of happening:
a. Shaeeza continues through this summer and makes her doctor very happy
b. She runs out of steam and returns to smelling flowers like Ferdinand (oops, sorry)
c. She ends up actually gaining more weight as is her luck
d. none of the above

Let me ask you this - what will make your bee sting? For those who haven't yet read the book, what are you waiting for? A bee sting?

Monday, June 27, 2011


Of all the "B" words I know, this one is the one I really don't like. Bibi - spelt a few different ways. Bebe, Bebi, Bibe and even the occasional Beebe. 

You might ask what is a Bibi? According to urban dictionary - it is defined as "Is the epitome of all things feminine and womanhood. Bibi means "mistress," "lady," "beloved," "wife," "queen," "lover" etc etc. 
"She's my beautiful bibi..."
According to the baby name meaning website "Babynology", it is Persian meaning  lady. It seems to be a beautiful name but don't let its innocent facade fool you. 

Americans seem to like it as it is easy to pronounce and it can be a cute name, again that facade thing. I used it when I first started working in Brooklyn as a receptionist in an office, they really liked the name and thought it was cute - I didn't want to introduce them to my middle name. A conundrum of many vowels. Try saying Shaeeza three times fast - not very cute and no it will not open the gateway to the dark side. I promise. I used it during my five years as an aide in the hospital, I got so many compliments on it, it was quite a conversation starter. "Oh you have a cute name Bibi". and "Bibi, you are the bibiest of the Bibi's" and my Ukrainian friends when they call me"Be-bushka".  

As you can tell my first name is Bibi and here's the kicker - so does my sister Farah and my little sister Swafeha. See, losing that innocent face. Three girls in the same family with the same first name. What  a tangled web we weave... But it doesn't stop there. I come from a very large prolific Indian family and we seem to bring forth tons of baby girls (they are still appearing today) and guess what? Most of my cousins have the same first name yes that Bibi - spelt in varying styles. One of my cousins even decided to get even cuter by asking to be called "B. I" How much cuter can you get?
If you check my FB friends list, there are many Bibi's there.  Seventeen at last count and seven are related to me by blood, that doesn't count all the closeted Bibi's who are reluctant to use the name. I don't blame them either. Still think it's an innocent name? 
I started a FB page whose title is "You know your're Guyanese if your first name is Bibi". I haven't checked back there in a while because it is practically terrifying exactly how many have that first name. It just might give me the hibby jibbies. Almost every Guyanese family know someone or many someones named Bibi. Losing that cuteness factor real fast.

When I was in elementary school in Georgetown Guyana, I used the name Bibi.  so did my sisters- we were Bibi S. Khan, Bibi F. Khan and Bibi S. Khan. See how my point is proven? Not innocent.
Then came the day when a new girl entered my class - guess what her name was? Bibi S. Ally. I was delighted (young and foolish), oh here's another girl with my name, oooh maybe we can friends. Maybe we'll become pals, buddies, form a club or something, maybe even solve mysteries (Enid Blyton was a strong influence then on my impressionable life). The teacher trying to be nice said "Oh now we have two Bibi's , Bibi Khan and Bibi Ally". Oh the daggerish looks I got from her were practically designed to take the Bibi out of me! I shrunk back into my shell. Later that day out on the playground, she came over to me and hissed "I'm the only Bibi". I was too shocked to return with "But I was here before you". I thought it , but was too dumbfounded to say it. Innocence where did you go?
So I decided to drop that name, just didn't write it anymore and switched to my middle name - Shaeeza.  I still keep it, you know legal stuff and all that, remember that cuteness factor, even I will admit to being fooled by its innocent facade, but you have no idea how tempted I was to literally drop it when I became a citizen. How many Shaeeza's do you know?

Friday, June 17, 2011

Blogalicious blog tour 2

It's that time again - another delicious Blogalicious blog tour! Thank you for stepping over from Dora's
the organizer of this blog hop. Our topic this week is about a book that most influenced us. What a topic! Everyone will have something unique to say, blog, rhyme or say in pics. Some are hosting giveaways, others just need a listening ear and everyone will be a delightful read. Visit, leave comments and follow. When you have sat a while here, hop on over to Mari's and see what she is up to. Happy blog hopping!

1. Roy -
15. Tosh -
16. Lucy -

The Book that inspires me the most.

I have read so many books that it is hard to choose the one that inspired me the most, as most if not all has left an impact of some sorts on me and my life. 
But every time I come back to "Little Women". I first read this when I was just ten years old and I have since read and re read many times over. All the versions, the combined one with "Good Wives" and the original that I had bought at a library sale for 25 cents. I wished I kept it, but left it behind when I came to America. 
I loved Marmee and her way with her girls.  I tried to see myself in the girls and as an older daughter, I was Meg. Patient in her love for her family and proud of who they were. 
Now I'm the Marmee and I have four girls. I see my girls in them and I try Marmee's influences when dealing with them in all their dramas, whether petty or not. I try to mirror her wisdom and beliefs . Mariam 21, is Amy, liking nice things and always primping. Sam 20 is Joe who likes a good romp around the world and what I call her"walks abroad", Nazeefah 16 and Dinah 12 are both parts of Meg and Beth combined. They like to be home and make everyone happy like Beth and patient and proud like Meg. They all have varying degrees of girlhood drama and long suffering teenaged angst. Which makes me wonder how would Marmee handle today's girls? So I channel her especially when they try my very last nerve and try to be calm and patient. I've had many a "fess up" time with the girls as I ask straight questions and even though I get the short version sometimes, Marmee helps me see through the gaps and read between the lines.
Although I have not yet achieved Marmeedom I am trying everyday with my "Little Women".