Friday, December 15, 2006


Dissection of jumbled thoughts.

This past week has been pretty hectic. I've gone from spending languid days with my parents, them trying hard not to spoil me when we go out for meals and at family outings to the mall, to practically meeting a new relative every other day.

You see, my cousin is getting engaged to her best friend. This Saturday has been over twenty years in the waiting, and you'll be sure that everyone on both sides of her family will be there for noisy moral support. She won't have it any other way, either, what with half-joking threats to her cousins that they shall all attend without fail. A bride-to-be, regardless of how far off the wedding is, is a formidable thing to behold.

The relatives from our mothers' side are coming out of the woodwork. It's a funny thing. I get all excited and bubbly until I tend to forget myself, and start becoming as peaky as the younger children on Mentos. But large families are really something. They're filled with drama, laughter and a lot of undeclared love, the gruff, unconditional sort.

They're also a really good study case on human behaviour.

My mother always told us that the best way to know what a person is thinking is to observe the things they say and do; their reaction towards you. She particularly stresses on this whenever she feels that either one of us has crossed any limits. Taking her advice subconsciously to heart, I've found myself making inferences on what it's like to be STARTING a family.

All this talk about engagement and weddings, and having an insider's take on what goes on behind it all, has unnerved me somewhat. I have never been a fan of anything adult, and getting married, with a ton of responsibilities to boot, has always struck me as a dreaded but inevitable part of the future: to be put off for as long as possible.

Living by ourselves has led most of my friends and I to often ponder over what it's like to be married and living with someone you don't really know (take it from me, you never truly know what a person's like until you've LIVED with them). There's the initial deal about choosing the right person to spend the rest of this lifetime with, and then there's the part about procreating and setting forth your offspring into the great big world out there.

Shudder. Astaghfirullah al 'Azim.

If the idea of being responsible for a full-grown adult (in the form of spouse) scares me enough, the thought of having children simply terrifies me. Don't get me wrong; I love kids, and I no doubt want them as part of my future. I just can't imagine being responsible for the total well-being of a new person.

You'll have to raise them, feed them, make sure they're healthy and safe, give them an education, instill the best morals and principles, and try not to turn them into miniatures of you, all at the same time.

I mean, think about it. MasyaAllah, what a job. And it's been going on for eons, but still. Nobody really understands what it's like to be a parent until the dutiful day comes, and then nobody really treats it like its a big deal. But what an incredible responsibility.

Seriously, think about it.

In my case, I wonder what sort of a parent I would make. I wonder how I would go about explaining Islam to my kids, and making sure that I do all I can to keep them on the straight and wide. I wonder how I would deal during those formative years, so that I wouldn't have to worry so much later on.

Everything I place on/in my kids will be questioned on the Day of Judgement.

I try to place myself in my parents' shoes, and I feel their pain and agony. I guess my parents never expected that they'd still have to worry about their grown daughter, after all these years. I would never wish my lack of common sense on my kids. I can just picture my folks, worrying in the middle of the night over whether they've explained something correctly, or whether what they've given us, physically, spiritually and emotionally, is enough. How much is enough, anyway?

It's at times like these that I feel most grateful for my parents, and regret all those times I underappreciated them.

I look at my older cousins and their kids and feel a surge of pity for them. What a journey it must be. What a burden on such young shoulders, to have to pretty much SHAPE the next generation, the idea of things to come.

I wonder if they've ever thought of it that way, or if they just try to go through things day by day, so as not to feel overwhelmed.

I wonder if they've ever stopped to consider where they've gone wrong, or whether they think that there isn't enough time to muhasabah, so they shouldn't even bother.

I wonder if they feel as if they've loved their kids enough -- if they've considered being on the other end of all that emotion and affection. Do they think their kids understand how much they care? Do they expect love to come as a given?

I wonder if they're emulating their parents, or if they're trying to go in the opposite direction, or if they realize that no amount of concentration will undo the fact that they're raising their children the way their parents raised them.

I guess I cannot help such thoughts. I'm beginning to feel a lot older and sheepish, as I finally meet my younger cousins, all of them some nine months older -- gangly joints, toothy grins, mature vocabulary and all. They grow up so fast, and yet I am envious of their comparative youth.

I wonder if their parents have ever had the chance to stop and reminisce, and enjoy their children as people looking in from the outside. I also wonder what they would see, whether they would be pleased with their handiwork.

I also happen to know that no matter what happens to a child, they could barely be objective and look the other way in neglect, simply because he/she is their child. I'm almost positive that a parent has no room for hatred for their children, no matter how terrible the crime.

I completely admire the apparent selflessness of nearly all parents. No wonder they are blessed by God. How amazing it must be, to be granted the gift of being able to ignore yourself, and place the life of another above your own. How incredible the sacrifice, and what a feeling.

Here's to all parents of the past, present and the future. Us young ones can only dream of such courage. Until the day comes, insyaAllah.

And serve Allah and do not associate any thing with Him and be good to the parents and to the near of kin and the orphans and the needy and the neighbor of (your) kin and the alien neighbor, and the companion in a journey and the wayfarer and those whom your right hands possess; surely Allah does not love him who is proud, boastful

[Surah an-Nisa', 4:36]

Wassalamu'alaik.

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this has been a rant by Syazwina Saw at 8:48 pm

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