The Marriage Mafia

Writing this I was immediately tempted to begin with “my Indian back ground” but then I stopped to think. I’m from the kind of family where even my granny has always said, “don’t rush it, honey.” So really this has nothing to do with my upbringing and more to do with cultural influence.

Have you ever gone to a wedding and been cornered by a white haired pixie who has decided that after ninety years of life it is her sole purpose to ensure you are married to one of  her great great grandson’s sister’s daughter’s cat’s stepmom’s son?

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A Mother’s Footsteps

Mother’s day. Another western custom that has slowly filtered through into the more conservative eastern culture. Growing up in a Muslim Indian home with relatively strong traditional and Islamic values, we really never celebrated Mother’s day. While the message of the day is to show love and appreciation for our mothers, I grew up with my mother firmly saying that we should be showing love and appreciation for all important people in our lives every day and not just on a randomly selected day each year.

With that in mind, I thought back to my early childhood days and wondered back on lessons from Islamic classes (aka Madressa). I was looking for guidelines on how to show appreciation and who to show it to and for some reason the only one hundred percent clear lesson was the words of Prophet Muhammed (P.B.U.H), “Paradise lies under the feet of your mother.”

And as the words rang through my mind, I found myself wondering how many stories the feet of our mothers had to tell. With the help of one of my best friends, I set out to discover the world under the feet of mothers around me and as I delved into unknown depths I discovered striking, strong women and the people they helped mould.

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The Rebel Queen

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Once upon a time…

That’s usually how all love stories and fairy tales begin or with something equally as cheesy and ridiculous as that well worn phrase we all grew up hearing. The familiar tones of stories with beautiful endings for the perfect couples. The princess always finds her prince. The evil witch always burns. The kingdom lives and thrives under the rule of a happy young couple groomed to be the new king and queen and well, as the story goes, everyone lives happily ever after…

I’m as guilty as everyone when it comes to consuming book after book of these pale painted “romances” which lack substance and paint all girls as weaklings but, what if I told you that with a new age comes a  new story. A story called reality. In this story there is no damsel in distress. On the contrary, this girl was groomed to be her own  warrior. Her armor is not shining but dented, scuffed and worn from the battles she has faced head on. The wars she has worn and the milestones she has conquered have left her with scars she regards with pride. This is no weak princess. Continue reading

My Heart Beat

Every day I wake up and fight with myself to get out of bed and face the dawn with a smile. Sword at the ready to take on the demons waiting patiently to attack. Every day the shadows creep closer and every day I push them further away. It’s a constant battle. A new pain, a new ache and a new scar to prove that each day came and went leaving me as the survivor.

Neil Armstrong said “Every human has a finite amount of heart beats. I don’t intend to waste any of mine”

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The Business of Marriage.

Growing up in a relatively traditional Indian home “Failure” is one of those taboo words you never mention unless you want to be condemned. It’s quite possibly on the same level as admitting to having contracted the plague or H1N1.

So in the current culture of success being solely based on how many A’s you get in Matric and how rich you manage to make yourself by 25, the pressure is always on.  You are always expected to achieve nothing less than exceptional. Every parent believes they have groomed the world’s next Mukesh Ambani.

We are taught to dress ourselves in the latest fashions,  buy the most expensive make up and drive the fastest sports car our dad’s can give us. Our generation has slowly been conditioned to believe status means more than character and that money replaces love.

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Sounds harsh?

A friend of mine recently expressed an interest in a girl and was willing to meet her to decide if he wanted to propose to her…(yes, this sounds a touch old fashioned but he is one of the few who enjoys doing everything the correct way) Instead of her mother running the usual background check via the “samoosa gang” and the “Who’s daughter you” committee to see if he was a decent guy with a good reputation, her only request was “make sure he comes with his degree and university results.”

She could have just asked for his proof of employment and current bank balance… Or maybe a CV, since it seems that this is going to be a business meeting instead of a marriage proposal. Maybe the mother is justified but that seems a little harsh considering he isn’t even sure he wants to marry your daughter yet… It’s almost as if she’s conditioning her daughter to think:

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I thought that was the pinnacle of ridiculous requests until I asked a few other friends and the list included (and I quote word for word):

  • She asked me if I would buy her three Mac lipsticks a month
  • Can I afford an apartment in Dubai for holidays twice a year
  • Do I own a business
  • Does my apartment have enough cupboard space for her 30 pairs of shoes
  • she said “I expect R5000 spending a month minimum and a BMW with a drop top. If you can’t afford that, don’t even bother”

Shock? Horror? Despair?

Perhaps I am being a touch harsh, after all, I know there are tons of girls out there who aren’t this shallow or demanding but I have to ask:

What on earth do you think marriage is?

Where is the logic in asking a 20 something year old, straight out of varsity, man to fuel and pay for a lifestyle your dad worked half his life to fund for you?  And why do you seem to think you are entitled to such lavish luxury?

When did a person’s success become linked solely to money? When did we stop measuring a person’s worth and marriage-ability on their character and personality and start measuring it on their ability to give you five star accommodation and a luxury car?

When did something as sacred as Marriage become nothing more than a business? Nothing more than a means to get the lifestyle you think you deserve?

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Ladies, yes you have rights but these rights do not include your ridiculous demands for luxury. Guys, you too have rights but remember she is your wife not your slave…

In the business of marriage, the person who fails to understand the concept of partnership is ultimately at a loss.

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But that’s just my opinion.

After all, I am not married nor am I a business major so I merely know the little I gathered from watching those around me… In all honesty, much like business and economics scares me senseless, this new concept of “The Marriage Business” truly terrifies me.

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Quietly Calculating,

BrokeBella

What Should Girls Be Made Of?

As usual, I caught myself day dreaming, instead of being productive and contemplating, what exactly should girls be made of to be considered perfect?

Sugar and spice and all things nice… minus the chemical x maybe?

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Fairy dust and glitter with a touch of sass perhaps? Or orange blossoms and chocolate fudge?

After running through all the options I could think of, I decided to ask the opinion of my trusted sidekick who is well versed in the intricacies of the male mind (given he has to be… It’s his mind) and asked for his input…

This is what he came up with:megan_fox_workout_b

“Strawberry scented conditioner and that fruity lip stuff all girls insist on using definitely sets you in the right direction. Add to that a cute laugh (disclaimer: CUTE being the operative word. Not high pitched or squeeky) and the ability to blush a million shades of red at the smallest things; makes you delicate and definitely attractive. We love it when girls aren’t afraid to cry, love the smallest things we do and keep a secret. If she can figure out how we feel it’s an immediate “Hell Yes!” and  her obsession with her phone is super cute. If she looks like a Megan Fox doppelganger, we’re on our knees begging for her already but otherwise she’s perfect if she has a flat tummy and curves with gorgeous hair”

Basically from that, I deduced that boys are attracted to a fruit basket with a “cute” design and about six different shades of red berries or red fruit all set in a delicate and fragile basket. The fruit should be fresh and juicy and preferably look like the entire package popped off the cover of a lifestyle magazine…

That doesn’t sound so bad… Right? RIGHT?

All we as women have to do is find a basket that suits us and turn into cute fruity Megan Fox look-alikes…

Or a fruit basket.

Whichever is easier…

 

 

Contemplating Turning Into A Basket Case,

Yours Always

BrokeBella

xoxo

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This one's for Hailz who I harass way too often.

Muslim Woman: The Law That Governs Who I Marry

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As most of you know, I don’t usually involve religion in my posts. Not because it’s not important to me but just because I am no authority to make statements regarding religious matters. I, like most Muslims, am a learner and thus very far from being the perfect example to others. I try and often stumble and as a result I leave the making of religiously linked statements to those who are far more learned in such matters. That said this post will not be a statement of religious authority, simply my own rambling thoughts on a topic that caught my eye.

Two days ago a friend, who fights for vehemently and tirelessly for equal right for everyone (animals and insects included), sent me a link with the message:

“As one of the more modern Muslim woman I know, do you not agree that Muslim woman should be given the right to marry Non-Muslim men?”

Her link was in summary stating a fact that I (as a muslim woman) am well aware of:

It is haram for a Muslim woman to marry a non-Muslim man, regardless of whether he is of the People of the Book or not. It has been said in the Quraan: “…and do not marry (your girls) to idolaters until they believe…” (Al-Baqarah 2: 221)

Now to any of you, who like my friend, are not Muslim you are probably thinking “hell yeah, of course she agrees.”

But the reality is: I do not agree.

Now before you all get self-righteous and start calling me closed minded and back ward in my thinking, I have reasons for my statement. See, I am all for women’s rights and equality and all the wonderful elaborate promises we as feminists fight for, but here’s the thing, the western world has misrepresented Islam and it’s laws regarding women completely.

I have never felt oppressed, harassed, and unsafe or under cherished. Never once has my father, uncle, grandfather or cousin raised a hand on me. Sure, like any kid growing up in a South African Indian home, I got a light slap or the pap spoon thrown at me when I was decidedly unruly or out of line but I was never abused or harmed just because I was a girl or was meant to be submissive and spoke my mind.

In fact, for as long as I can remember, I’ve been watching people give my parents this amazed look and quietly tell them “you are so blessed to have four daughters. They will take you to Jannah (heaven).”

Why?

Well to put it simply, it is because Islam cherishes its woman. The prophet himself is reported to have said

“Daughters are a great blessing because Allah(SWT) has promised a place in paradise (Jannah) on bringing them up. The one who has 3 daughters or sisters, or 2 daughters or sisters and he brings them up properly and fears Allah (SWT) regarding their rights, then Paradise is made mandatory for him.”

Sure my dad would have liked to have a son (just so he wasn’t outnumbered by woman) but if you ask any of my friends they’ll tell you that my dad has two sons, namely: my sister and I. See while it is true that most Indian (and I emphasise the Indian not the Muslim part) girls are usually taught to cook and clean and be perfect housewives I was never forced to conform to that stereotype. My parents left me to be the tomboy I insisted I was and eventually I learnt to balance my tomboy tendencies with my girly needs.

But that’s going off topic.

Back to the topic at hand, the above is just my introduction to the reasons why I disagree with my friend.

As a Muslim, regardless of your age and gender, there are a number of things you learn at a very young age. Everything from table manners to speaking to other people is addressed, explained and set out. We learn histories of the people who preceded us and the importance of the message they carried. We learn laws and science long before we get to school. We learn to memorise and recite beautiful verses as soon as we can speak.

Most importantly, we learn the importance of a woman in Islam and how to love and cherish them. Don’t believe me?

Here are five things you didn’t know about Islam and woman:

  • At a time when female children were buried alive in Arabia and women were considered transferable property in the western world, Islam honoured women in society by elevating them and protecting them.
  • The Prophet famously said:“Paradise lies under the feet of your mother,” 1450192_10151759393613657_2015297380_n

and a song by Yusuf Islam (also known as Cat Stevens) that many Muslim children grew up singing had this chorus:

Who should I give my love to?
My respect and my honour to
Who should I pay good mind to?
After Allah
And Rasulullah

Comes your mother
Who next? Your mother
Who next? Your mother
And then your father
This song was inspired by a story where a companion of the Prophet Muhammad (pbuh) repeatedly asked the prophet who he should honour and respect to please Allah. The prophet replied “Your Mother” three times and last “your father” , which served to emphasise the importance of one’s mother in Islam.

  • Woman were given the right to be educated and encouraged to acquire knowledge. In fact, in the 7th century, Muhammad (pbuh) declared that the pursuit of knowledge is obligatory on every Muslim – male and female. One of the most influential scholars of Islam was Muhammad’s wife, Aisha. After his death, men and women would travel to learn from her because she was considered a great scholar of Islam. The recognition of female scholarship and women’s participation in academia has been encouraged and practiced long before the western world gave woman this recognition.

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  • Before the advent of Islam, women (especially those in the western world) were deprived of inheritance and on many occasions were considered property which one could bequeath to whomever one pleased. Islam gave women the right to not only own property but also to inherit from relatives, which was a revolutionary concept in the seventh century. Whether a woman is a wife, mother, sister, or daughter, she receives a certain share of her deceased relative’s property. This share depends on her degree of relationship to the deceased and the number of heirs. While many societies around the world denied women inheritance, Islam assured women this right, illustrating the universal justice of Islam’s divine law.
  • My last point is possibly my most important point as it is the one I will use to solidify my standpoint against my friends statement at the beginning of this article. This point is a woman’s rights and position with regards to marriage:

A woman has the right to accept or reject marriage proposals and her approval is required to complete the marriage contract. She cannot be forced to marry someone against her will and if this occurs for cultural reasons, it is in direct opposition of Islam. By the same principle, women also have the right to seek divorce if they are dissatisfied with their marriage.

Be aware that when this law was made in Islam the western world was still trading woman as forms of sealing contracts and building allies. Marie Antoinette was married off against her will to ensure that her mother would have an ally in France hundreds of years after Muslim woman were given the right to choose for themselves.

Muslim’s are taught that marriage in Islam is based on mutual peace, love, and compassion. The Quraan itself states that:

And of His signs is that He created for you from yourselves mates that you may find tranquillity in them; and He placed between you affection and mercy…” (Quran 30:21)

Muhammad (pbuh) embodied the best character ever possessed by a man and is the role model for all Muslims. He led by example and is well known for being helpful around the household and treating his family with compassion. He made love a tradition that Muslims should strive to implement in their daily lives. Muhammad (pbuh) treated his wives with the utmost respect and honour and was never abusive towards them. There are reports of him taking long walks with his wife Aisha (pbuh) at night simply to talk to her.

One of his famously known statements clearly says, “The best of you are those who are best to their wives.”
So now I ask you this. Why would I as a Muslim woman want the “right” to marry a man whose only role models come from movies such Fifty Shades of Grey and the sexist men who deprived women of their basic human rights for centuries when I could have a man who grew up with a role model like Muhammad (pbuh)?

Why would I choose to fight for a right that would expose me to the evil of this world, when I know in my heart that any man who fears god and is a true Muslim would treat me as though I was the rarest gem ever discovered?

Does it make sense for me to marry a man who was not thought the true importance of woman and shown how to love and treat a woman when Islam has moulded the perfect man for me?

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When a Muslim man’s religion defines the man he should be for his wife, what possible reason would I have to choose a man who did not have the same guidance?

Why would I want a man who would take me away from the very religion that has protected and cherished me my entire life?

I guess in conclusion all I have to say is having such a right would be completely and absolutely useless to me.

For I firmly believe the perfect man for a Muslim woman is the Muslim man God moulded for her.

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A Hairy Story

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In the words of Coco Chanel, ” A woman  who cuts her hair is about to change her life.”

Let’s just take a moment to reflect on one of the many topics that seem to boggle the minds of men every where, Woman and Their Hair. See it’s quiet simple really, a woman’s hair is her crown. It’s her statement to the world and whether she covers it all day or leaves it loose for the wind to caress.

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At some point we’ve all been seduced to cut our locks as short as possible without looking like a member of the local boys soccer team… And at other times we’ve grown it so long our mums held us down and cut it by force simply because looking like Rapunzel isn’t very practical for a nine year old who can’t tie her own hair…

For most of our childhoods we experiment with different lengths of hair, fringes, bangs, little tufts sticking up, pony tails at the very top of our heads, hair styles that belong in cartoons and even those dreaded mushroom haircuts. But every woman finds that one hairstyle that she will stick with th

rough the whole of high school. It’s her signature look. Her entire image is built around that hair do.

Then high school ends and we all have this sudden urge to make a change… And guess what’s the first thing we all tackle…

Bingo!

OUR HAIR.

Now the guys are probably sitting there thinking to themselves “why the hell would you do that if you already have a signature look?”

As Chrisette Michele puts it “Truth is, I cut my hair for freedom, not for beauty.” For most of us dying our hair blue, pink or even orange was a sign of rebellion. Chopping half your hair off the ultimate symbol of freedom. For a few days we revel in the light and often healthier feeling hair. Then the next week we realise we miss our long hair…

Why?

It’s simple, we had a routine. A set number of steps that en

sured your hair would look semi-decent every single day of the week. With a new hair do comes new steps… suddenly you have fly aways and cow licks popping up all over your head. Your pony tail suddenly resembles the tail of the chihuahua down the street. And sporting a messy bun is as likely as you riding a unicorn…

Suddenly the new hair cut is a disaster… even though it makes you look like Victoria Beckham. On a serious note though lets be honest your haircut gives you a boost of confidence. A fresh outlook. A sweet new view on reality…. In the end, even when the hairdresser does the exact opposite of what you asked, regardless of how much work it is to maintain your new do it’s worth the drama.

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Because let’s face it, Ariel Meadow Stallings styled it perfectly when she said “Life, Weddings, Relationships, road trips, gardening, making out, haircuts: few of the fun things in life always go as expected.”

So here’s to bad hair days and good hair days. To natural hair and Bleached Hair.

Here’s to expressing yourself any way you see fit.

May you experience:

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And until next time, may your personality be as epic and as sexy as your hair.

Stay Tangle Free And Glossy,

Broke Bella

In The Name Of Shoes

As someone who is short and I mean just barely scratching 5 ft I’m usually the girl who wears nine inch heels and rocks them. Why? It’s simple. I need to wear shoes high enough to match my personality.

That and I’m a sucker for a pair of sky high strappy sandals in my size.  To be perfectly honest, my future husband should probably thank his lucky stars that my feet are so tiny. If my feet had been a size or two bigger I’d literally own thousands of shoes by now. But alas, I am cursed with feet the size of a garden gnome and no one makes gorgeous heels for tiny feet.

Most people just assume I wear my heels to give me a little extra height or because they match my outfit. But one of my best friend is a strange creature who feels the need to question and analyze everything. So one day while we were sipping coffee I get thrown the question “Why do you do it? Why do you torture your feet in those monstrosities?” To be fair I was caught off guard or I would have chucked my coffee across the table at such blasphemous words but instead I answered with the words of Christian Louboutin:

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Needless to say my friend was aghast. So aghast it took a full ten minutes before the topic was mentioned again. This time with a timid “So explain your obsession”

In respect of the softer approach I decided to introduce my friend to the world of heels. It started with a quick trip to the local shoe shop and then a quick demonstration of how to pair your shoes and your outfit. Within ten minutes I witnessed the birth of a love affair.

Her eyes sparkled and she walked with a sway in her hips and a confidence that rivaled a run way models. That my dear friends is the magic of a new pair of shoes.

Heels magically cure your insecurities and make you fearless.

After all, how can you be scared of  new heights when you’re wearing the sky scraper…

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Holiday People

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I’m not sure if it’s a well known idea or just something I’ve learnt over the years but I have started to believe that to truly know someone you need to go on holiday with them.

Simply put, there are five types of people on holiday:

1) The Fashionista
This is the person who doesn’t care if you’re in New York or the amazon jungle they will buy new clothes and style their hair every day of the trip. This person is usually the first person to stake their claim on a space and refuse to share it. They’ll probably do the least amount of work and demand all the recognition.

2) The Gamer
This person is only on holiday because they were bullied into it. Their luggage has the barest minimum with regards to clothes but is filled to capacity with portable gaming consoles and chargers. They’ll probably say a total of three words the whole trip.

3) The dishwasher
This is the person who seems to be cleaning from day one. They’re allergic to dust. Not in the literal sense but rather in the “I’m going to scrub then rescrub every surface” sense.

4) The Martini Sipper
Always at the pool sipping some exotic drink while scoping out possible flings. They know everyone in the hotel and just enough about everyone to gossip about them.

5) The One Time Wonder
This is the person who wants to try everything at least once. They’re up for climbing a mountain, wrestling a bear and even a twelve hour shopping spree. This is the person everyone wants to be on holiday with but also the rarest type of holiday maker.

These are just some of the people I’ve come across. I’m pretty sure there are more types and as the years pass and my holiday companions change I may have to add on to the list.

Until then I’ll be sipping a drink at the pool or climbing a mountain…

I haven’t quite decided yet.

XOXO
Broke Bella