#and we give them little presents for Eid

[salvadorbonaparte]

Regarding my last reblog about Christian hegemony and holidays. Something I find really annoying is that Germany is officially secular but Christian majority and keeps forgetting it's secular (stores closed on Sunday etc).

And then people get really weird about immigrants and refugees because they think people from other cultures and religions are a threat to us. It's mostly Muslims they're worried about. And they're like "they need to integrate themselves" and I'm like yeah sure learn the language etc. But then they actually don't mean integration they mean assimilation. They want people to if not convert then at least to stop being Muslim because "we're a Christian Country" (we're not, we're secular).

So they get upset when people continue being Muslim and speak their native language at home. But then there are some immigrants, usually with children, who decide to go an extra step and they start celebrating Christmas and Easter. Usually so that the children aren't isolated from their peers at school. I think that's fine as long as they're having fun, you know.

But then some of the same people who want integration to be assimilation still are weird about that because oh? Those strange foreigners celebrate our holidays?? Despite not having grown up with the religion?? But aren't they Muslim??? A Muslim with a Christmas tree??? How strange how wrong!!

So people really can't win no matter what they do.

[ixiot-ghostrebel]

I just got an Another Sagau!Idea-

So you know the latest Archon Quest regarding about Khean'riah (or however you spell it), Caribert?

Yeah, so slight spoilers:

What if the Reader, before they lost their memories of being the Creator and all that, met the Traveler's sibling while they were meeting Eide, Caribert, and Chlotar Alberich? Let me explain:

The Reader's presence is special. → I based this fact from the way the Traveler's presence was enough to lessen Xiao's karmic debt. What if the Reader's presence does the same thing to the hilichurl's curse, but by a somewhat larger scale? Just having the Reader present is all that is needed to have the medicine work faster than it did before.

I also think Reader wouldn't reveal themselves as the Creator, instead taking up a disguise when they meet the Abyss Twin and Eide.

The Reader Might Be Eide's better Choice to Ask For a Blessing? → Allow me to elaborate. So, as we all know, most, if not all, kheanrians are atheists or just don't have much faith in gods in general. The Creator is a little different here—the Creator's presence is more of a feeling of safety, a feeling that they have some sort of familiar bond of sorts between the two.

I would think that Eide was see the Creator, aka Reader, as a being far greater than the Dendro Archon, a being with more power. This may have him beg for the Creator's blessing in the end instead of the Dendro Archon. The only problem? We know what the strange mushroom is made out of—the fertilizer to grow it is legit dead humans. I would honestly think the Creator is against this idea, which thus leads to the Reader denying his prayers. Eide may then be forced to beg to the Dendro Archon because of this.

I would honestly imagine that the Creator gives blessings more than most gods, even if they are just small miracles. Reader has balanced the consequences of giving the blessing to Eide, which leads them to refuse to accept his request. However, I think the Reader would change their mind, hoping that if they allowed Caribert to gain consciousness would stop Eide from killing more humans to make fertilizer—

The Reader Could Be Against Chlotar Alberich, Founder of the Abyss Order. → I'm mainly basing this idea off of the beginning of the game. To this, I'm referring to the intro cutscene, where we have to choose a sibling to be the Traveler. I would think the Reader shares a similar mindset to the Traveler—they do not believe what happened to the people of Khean'riah was deserved, but they are against joining the Abyss Order to cause harm to other nations.

I personally believe that Reader would be unhappy that Chlotar has started the Abyss Order to kill of the rest of their precious world. I can't really see the Reader agreeing with killing their own creation, instead trying to convince the Abyss Twin to not join him.

The Reader does not like this "new god" that's being created. → As you may know, human-made gods aren't exactly amazing. Scaramouche is a slight example of that. The Sages tried to create a god from human knowledge, and, in result, Scaramouche became a fake god. But, as you know, his power wasn't exactly as strong as a real god's power would be.

Reader does not like the fact that the Abyss/Abyss Order would go this far to making a god to get rid of the curse befalling on all hilichurls. To them, I would think it's some sort of severe risk. They are highly suspicious of this "god" and would rather find out its true intentions in other methods than cooperate with them. The Creator may be lenient on their creations, but they have to draw lines against them, unfortunately.

Alright, that's all I got for today! I'm sorry if it's a little confusing lol- I didn't fully understand the Archon Quest. See you around :)

Ghost Rebel Side Notes: I have honestly no idea how this idea emerged into my head lol- but I'm glad it did! Sorry for any grammar mistakes too btw—I don't exactly proofread before I post things.

Check The Ghost Rebel's Blog Description to See if Their Mailbox is Open!

[dreamerwriternstargazer]

Eid gifts arrived! Alhamdulilah in good time

I was gonna get mum a notebook but then remembered she wouldn’t use it as usual because she hasn’t even touched the last notebook I gave her on Eid (I have learnt prints are good though so instead I’ll save to get her one of the masjid prints next Eid Insha’Allah)

I figured something small that she’d actually use would be good. Hence, watch strap with flower engravings in her favourite colour. It’s really hard to give mum gifts tbh she rarely if ever uses them but I didn’t want to not give her something either, art print next Eid Insha’Allah

Art kits for the littles, baby girl’s one is much bigger though so to make it fair I got my baby brother the art kit and the personalised art planet lamp, Insha’Allah he’ll like it

And Ace attorney game for my brother since he loves Ace Attorney, also seems like a fun game to play together Insha’Allah?

I’m usually really rubbish at Eid gifts but as the kids have gotten older it’s been easier to figure out things they will actually use and play with, their personalities have developed a bit more. Individually I didn’t spend too much on each gift either Alhamdulilah which is good because I always feel this odd pressure to make sure it’s a pricier gift when… I don’t even work part time lol I can’t afford that. I’ll keep a price limit in mind for future presents now since it’s actually a good guide and works out better for me and prevents me overspending

For my friends I got masjid notebooks yes ^_^

And for friend I (ex-student friend) I really had to brainstorm, but in the end I got her a We Hunt The Flame bookmark from Etsy AND a starry candle wax melter, the reason being my sister accidentally ordered these Gilmore Girls Luke’s Diner wax melts last year but left them untouched since she meant to order candles. These wax melts are super exclusive, the shop only opens a few times a year and it’s a fight to get anything from it, and they smell amazing

Since Friend I has gotten into Gilmore Girls in the past year I figured she’d love the wax melts. I feel kind of weird about it being a thrift gift but it’s not like we ever touched it, just opened it and put it away somewhere AND I am buying the candle burner new so… that’s a pretty good gift I think? Insha’Allah

I’m also planning to (because I can NEVER stop making life harder for myself XD) craft up a cardboard box so it’s a really pretty gift box Insha’Allah that she can keep

Will it work and have I ever done it before? No

But one of my favourite little sentimental items is this handmade fabric covered box mum bought at an event when I was 13 and I’ve always wanted to learn how to make something like it so stand by for crafting chaos :D

[giftsonclick9]

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[sleptwithinthesun]

jesus fucking christ i'm now aware that i am positively incapable of writing a drabble-length fic. i did not edit this at all so what you see is the product of severe sleep deprivation and a desperate need for serotonin, so i hope you enjoy a healthy 1.0K words of chaos written for s/pencer r/eid from c/riminal m/inds :D

Morgan glances up from his ever-present stack of paperwork as the lights flicker yet again, too exhausted to even try to be annoyed. The BAU had returned from a five-day case in Atlanta barely an hour ago, and in that time, the light rain they flew back into picked up to a severe thunderstorm accompanied by several flash flood warnings, meaning they’re all stuck in Quantico for the time being. 

“What’s that, the fourth time in ten minutes?” Prentiss asks, looking over to Reid for a more accurate number. Her mouth falls open in shock when she actually sees him, however, and her attention rapidly switches to Morgan, searching for confirmation that her eyes aren’t deceiving her. “Wait, is he—” 

The other agent nods sagely. “Sleeping, for once in his life? Yep.” 

“Holy shit,” Prentiss whispers, turning back to the kid. “It’s a miracle.” 

It truly is a sight to behold, their resident genius passed out at his desk. Reid had pulled two consecutive all-nighters trying to get ahead of their unsub, brain working overtime on the case. He was barely conscious on the plane ride back; it’s really not a surprise that he’s crashing now. The real kicker is that there isn’t a mug of coffee on his desk, signaling that he didn’t even attempt to stay awake before surrendering to the wills of his body. 

“What I would give to be Penelope Garcia right now,” Morgan sighs, a wistful expression crossing his face as he leans back in his chair. “Back at home, finally in my own bed…” 

Prentiss makes a sympathetic, albeit slightly mocking, noise in the back of her throat. “Yeah, don’t we all. I just wish they’d dim the lights a little, make it seem a little less like the middle of the day.” 

And it’s at that moment, the second the words leave Emily’s lips, that the power goes out. 

All of it, gone in an instant, plunging the bullpen and surrounding offices into complete, utter, darkness. There’s a brief second of stillness before Morgan turns to her, eyes wide, and whispers, “What did you just do?” 

“N-Nothing, I didn’t— I didn’t do anything,” Prentiss stammers. “The lights just… went out. It was a coincidence.” She’s saved from having to defend herself any further by the sound of JJ stepping into the room, who cases the three of them before letting out a tired sigh, tucking a loose lock of hair behind her ear. Not that it matters, really, since no one can see anything. 

“Wake Reid up; we’re moving to Hotch’s office,” she informs them. At Morgan’s raised brow and Prentiss’s quizzical look, she adds, “Just trying not to lose track of anyone. You never know.” 

They nod in acquiesce, standing in almost perfect sync. Morgan fumbles his way over to Reid’s desk, accidentally slapping the kid on the shoulder in the process. On the bright side, it wakes him up. On the not-so-bright side, though, it startles Reid, and he comes up swinging. 

“Woah! It’s just me, Reid, it’s Morgan,” he says, and though he can’t see the kid, Morgan can still imagine his face. His hair is undoubtably mussed up in a loose approximation of a halo around his head, eyes wide with shock. Likely a bit of fear, too, considering that he never really was comfortable with the dark. “It’s alright, the power just went out.” 

“We’re heading up to Hotch’s office for company,” Prentiss adds, obviously picking up on the tension. Her hand fishes backwards, eventually making contact with the youngest member of their team, and she grabs his fingers. Morgan takes the other, and they follow the shadowy outline of JJ towards the stairs. Navigating is a tricky task, but they eventually make it through and are greeted by the beam of a flashlight. 

Reid drops their hands once it registers, pressing a knuckle firmly under his nose before sneezing softly. “ht’shuu!” 

“Salud,” Rossi calls from inside the room, the door now open, courtesy of JJ. They file in, Prentiss sitting with Rossi on the couch while JJ leans against the wall. Morgan simply sits on the floor, tugging Reid down next to him. Hotch hands them each a flashlight, face softening when he sees the weariness on all of their expressions, his own barely concealed. 

Reid hums his appreciation, already starting to slump in on himself. Morgan wraps his arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer to his body. There’s a beat of silence between the six of them, then half of the flashlights click on, immediately followed by Reid sneezing again, face buried in his sleeve. 

“What’s that called again?” Prentiss asks. “The reflex thing?” 

“Mm… photic,” Reid murmurs, repositioning himself so that he’s leaning heavily into Morgan, as if the exhaustion is a physical thing, weighing him down. He’s still half-asleep, moving like someone’s put him on a slower setting. 

The older agent chuckles softly, the vibration passing though his chest to where Spencer’s now practically draped across him. “I forgot about that little quirk of yours,” he says, grinning. 

“Sorry if I’m a little out of the loop here, but what’s the Boy Wonder talking about?” Rossi’s puzzlement is written on his face, clear as day, even with the deep shadows the angles of the flashlight beams are adding to his face. 

“The photic sneeze reflex,” JJ supplies helpfully. “Basically, Reid sneezes anytime there’s a sudden source of light. It’s kind of adorable, actually.” 

He looks at the flashlight in his hand, considering. “So if I do this—” 

“h’shuu! it’shhiew!” 

Rossi nods, pointing the light back away from Reid’s face. “Good to know.” 

The kid’s still hitching, breath stuttering in his chest. His hand hovers in front of his face, and he shudders forward with a final, quiet, “ishoo!” 

“Bless you,” Hotch murmurs, casting a stern look towards Rossi. “Maybe we don’t test it out any further.” 

“’S okay,” Reid interjects. “It’s not like the power’s going to come back anytime soon, and besides, there’s a refractory period that can last up to twenty-four hours. It doesn’t matter if we try to trigger it or not at this point; it’ll happen regardless.” He sniffles softly, and Morgan squeezes his shoulder in a small gesture of comfort. 

[crazy-sevens]

Heyo, I wasn’t sure eid you took requests, but if you do could you do a part two to “An Excuse to make Christmas Jokes”

This was a long time coming but hope you like it!

Part one here

***

The hero had never felt more humiliated in their entire life. Not when their voice cracked at an eighth grade talent show. Not when they tripped into the punchbowl at prom. Not even when they had to dress up in a pink rabbit costume for Halloween at fifteen because their parents made them match with their little sister. At least there weren’t any witnesses to their embarrassment this time. 

The hero sat tied up in a red ribbon, gagged, and sitting under a Christmas tree. The flush in their face being almost the exact same shade of red as the ribbon. 

The villain had been gone for about ten minutes. And the hero knew that because there was a clock on the wall. Weird for what was basically a prison cell, but the room where they were sitting in was actually a really nice living room. 

Great. That made them feel so much better about this.

They looked up at the Christmas tree as the ornaments glinted in the light. Soon enough the villain would be back bringing whatever torture device that they called the hero’s Christmas present. The hero would have to be gone before then. Gone with what they had come here for. 

But no matter what they couldn’t think around this. The ribbon was tight, binging their arms and legs together so they could barely move. They couldn’t use their powers with the gag on their mouth and nobody around to use them on. And there were dozens of guards out there, so they wouldn’t even make it out, let alone with the device. 

The hero closed their eyes and leaned against the tree. The ornaments clattered together with a soft clink. They were made of glass. At least the villain had some taste.

Wait. Glass. 

The hero scooted themselves around and kicked the tree over. They winced at the sound of the ornaments shattering, but they couldn’t worry about the noise right then. They flexed their fingers and grabbed a shard from the wreckage. It was a little difficult but they managed to cut through the ribbon with the shard. They then tore the gag off. 

They felt in their sleeve and breathed a sigh of relief when they found it; the one thing the villain’s guards hadn’t taken from them- a hairpin. They picked the lock quickly.

They smirked. Sometimes they were so good it was frightening.

And on that note, they tripped on their way out. 

Nevermind. 

Before they could pick themselves up, a boot pressed against the small of their back. “What do we have here?”

The hero reached out with their power. “Hey get off of me!”

The boot’s pressure lessened, but that was about it. Of course it wouldn’t work that easily. “And why should I do that?”

“Um, because,” the hero scrambled for a convincing story, “because you’re unsatisfied with your boss and you want them to respect you more,” they blurted out. “I can help you.” They hoped they had struck the right cord. When trying to convince someone to do something, it helped to give them a good reason to. The power enhanced those feelings and moved the person to act. The hero could only hope that the guard was unsatisfied with his boss. How that fact might relate to letting the hero go, they weren’t sure. Maybe they would actually believe the hero could help.

Who knows? This wasn’t their best work anyway.  

But it actually seemed to be working. “Really?” the guard asked.

“Uh, yes,” the hero said. “Just let me up and we can talk all about your feelings and maybe try to start a union or something.”

The boot left their back. The hero stood up and brushed themselves off. Then they punched the guard square in the jaw. The guard fell over unconscious.

Then they dragged him back into the room, tied his hands and feet together with scraps of the ribbon, then they tied the gag around his mouth. They smirked. Now they were starting to feel better.

They walked over to the foyer, the sounds of music and chatter echoing through the door to their left. They could leave. Sneak out through a vent or something. But they couldn’t pass up this opportunity. The villain thought they were taken care of, so it would be perfect to find the device. 

They snuck through the house. 

No, house wasn’t really a good description. More like a mansion. Or a palace. It wasn’t very inconspicuous, but it was one of the most guarded places in the city so it didn’t really have to be. With that in mind, the hero knew they had to keep sharp, and they had to be patient. 

The latter being the most difficult. 

They regretted knocking out the guard. He could’ve given the hero a tour. But now they were just stuck checking every room. There was nothing for a while. 

Nothing until they found the villain’s office. 

It was pretty average in terms of officeness. No signs of villainy about it. No giant swirly chair to turn dramatically in, no assortment of stuffed creatures, no giant red button that opened a trap door for someone on the other side to drop through. 

It was disappointing to say the least. 

They searched all the drawers, checked for false backs or secret openings, but still nothing. But then they looked in the file cabinet. There were multiple files for people whose names the hero didn’t recognize, but at the front of them all was a file marked, Arch Nemesis.

Of course. 

They grabbed the file and tucked it under their arm. They couldn’t read it now. They only had so much time left before the party ended. If the device wasn’t in the next room they would cut their losses and leave.

But one thing they failed to notice: it was quiet. That wouldn’t be much of a problem normally, but when they had searched before they could still hear pieces of loud conversation and music through the hallways. There was none of that now. The party was already over. 

And the hero realized that too late. 

“Really you couldn’t wait ten minutes for me to come back? Admit it, you missed me.”

Before the hero could turn around, strong hands grabbed their arms, pinning them behind their back. The file dropped out of their hands.

The villain hummed into their ear. “Someone’s been looking into things they shouldn’t have.”

The hero tried to kick but the villain only responded by kicking the hero’s legs out from under them. They bracketed the hero’s hips with their own, and they kept the hero’s arms pinned above their head. 

“Get off of me.” The hero growled.

The villain rolled their eyes. “You really can’t get it into your head that your powers don’t work on me, can you?”

“What can I say? I’m stubborn,” the hero said. “And you’re a liar.”

The villain laughed. “You can hide it all you want, hero, but I know the curiosity is driving you crazy. A problem you could never solve.” 

The hero struggled, but the villain’s grip was like iron. “It’s not a problem. I can beat you without my powers.”

They could taste that lie in their mouth like bile. No they couldn’t. They could never beat the villain without backup and the villain knew it.

They shook their head. “You know I wasn’t going to tell you before I gave you the present, but I really think you’ve earned it.” They leaned in close. “I have the same powers as you do.”

The hero stopped struggling. “What?”

“I know! It was a little . . . frustrating at first, I can’t use my powers on you either, but you’ve been the most interesting hero yet.” Using one hand the villain pulled something out of their pocket. It looked like a dog collar. “I have learned that if you simply disable the other person’s powers, instead of cancelling out, your powers will finally work on them.” 

The hero’s heart stopped. That’s what the agency had sent them looking for. 

It had all been a setup.

The villain’s smile widened. “So, Merry Christmas. I know it’s early, but, hey, you’re worth it.”

“Keep that thing away from m-”

The hero’s voice died when the villain clipped the collar on.

[hotwings0203]

PART THREE LES GOOOOO

once again, all of these are headcannons, nothing more. And so without further ado, I present you to: Muslim Hawks

Aka Hani, aka Hamza, aka Haider, aka Kashif,(for keigo) Aka Kamran

This man is nothing if not a smooth talker

Knows absolutely when to give chai to uncles and have a chat about politics and religion with them, and when to shut it off to complement blushing aunties on their lenghas

Absolute sucker for any chicken dish. I’m talking korma, karhai, butter chicken, chicken tikka, the likes and all.

Definitely can cook from all the food he inhales, but you’d have to coax him into cooking for you. Instead of Dabi’s way of refusing to cook, which is usually “that’s a women’s job”, he uses his smooth words to tell you to “show me how to do it, I doubt i could make it as good as you”

Puts the gaslight in girlboss.

Even kids love him. When he’s at a dawat or an iftaar, children are swarming him and begging to be picked up. He surprisingly likes the sound of their squeals of joy as he spins them around, and it doesn’t hurt that cute girls clad in dupattas are witnessing how good he is with kids-they never leave his presence without giggling from his notorious winks

Loves wearing subtle gold in his clothes and earrings, which gets him in trouble occasionally

He’s known for wearing some of the drippiest clothes on eid and chaand raat, or on any dinner parties. People almost eagerly look for Dabi and his counterpart to see how they’re matching this time around-Hawks with his white and gold kurta and Dabi with his black and blue kameez

Somehow weasles his way out of every chore instructed at him, whether it’s helping in cleaning up an after-party, or shoveling food into little containers for the guests take home, or if it’s helping the masjid members carry chairs away. He’s using his silver tongue to distract his friends and act like he’s helping them, but in reality he’s got a toothpick between his pearly whites and an arm lazily draped over the poor schmuck’s shoulders.

He’s that one desi dude who can actually talk to girls and not make them uncomfortable. Sure, he might fluster a few of them (as he should, in his opinion), but he ultimately actually likes having good conversation with them and discussing modern day life without it being this whole weird thing…at least in front of them, that is. No one said he wasn’t going to go back and rate them all in front of Tomura and Dabi. But he truly enjoys talking to them otherwise!!😀

Drinks chai, non fucking stop. Or tea, like the Turkish kind. His teeth somehow manage to stay white through his addiction, the lucky bastard

Definitely a lightskin kind of brown dude. He’s got thousands of followers, looks like a model, has models following him…but he’s kind of like a Muslim influencer.

100% has done photoshoots endorsing Muslim brands, like shirts (or his favorite, jewelry)

Is known to go to those big galas that host different Muslim charities. Somehow donated a couple K each time he goes

His family (or just him) hosts some of the best kind of dinner parties. This boy is loaded, the doctor kind of rich, so his mansion is always brimming with guests and food

Has rumors that he’s not a virgin, but people like him too much to actually slander his name(except maybe the guys who are jealous of him)

Is the type of annoying fucker who will not.shut.up.about those videos on tiktok with people saying “can’t wait to have this one day🥺” and it’s a video of a Muslim couple waking each other up for fajr. He likes to talk a lot, but at the end of the day he’s still following half naked models

Does not ask your baba for his number. Your baba asks HIM for his number

He’s also known for being a great Sunday School teacher, or volunteer. He always has little candies to pass out for kids who get the answers right, and he’s super patient and gentle with kids who struggle with fiqh or recitation of the Quran

^^^this doesn’t mean he doesn’t go to his boys afterwards and groans about how stupid kids are. Remember, the ladies are watching him!!

Always smells nice, like sandalwood and cinnamon. Maybe old spice too

As one anon stated, he’s also been caught at shisha lounges and playing pool with with guys

When we he leads jummah, you can hear a pin drop silence because his qirat is so beautiful. Like he deadass has the voice of an angel

[spinningjupiters]

// Lessons in being //

Ramadan entered so subtly. Marked by loss of my Nana Abu. I was fasting when he was being carried for his final burial. And for the most days, it felt like I was in a haze. A ricocheted molecule of air looking for an understanding to deal with the pain of loss, the ability to experience pain of a core family member away from home after marriage, to watch my nani's health deteriorate drastically, and not being able to get through to my mama about how she was holding up through it all. And yet, I fasted. Juggled baby routine and work routine and house chores routine and within that tried to find my spirit of worship. I found that apart from Allah our religion focuses so much on our fellow beings. I learnt how hard it can be to be kind to people who are less privileged than us. I figured out that its always the hard way but its still the right way, to think about others as you think about yourself. To not burden them beyond their capacity. To try to be generous in acts of selflessness not because anyone has earned it, but because you're better than most. Not in a conceited way at all. I also figured out how important it is to be kind to self. We live not only for ourselves but also others. There are so many roles associated with us. And if we burn out, give up. Who will fulfill those roles? It is better to take a few days off than to be stretched beyond your own capacity to please others. I also learnt that you can't run away from your problems or complicated people verging on strained relationships. You have to pick your battles. Mental or physical. And you have to follow your gut. You may feel like you have to make boundaries at one point and prove something to the world by acting against your nature, but you can't put up with it if you're not wired that way. You can't expect the world to reciprocate your emotions (no matter what kind). You need to accept them as they are. Flaws and all. Just as you accept yourself. And build a strategy on how best to protect yourself from their toxic behaviour. It is good to have goals but not at the price of your mental health and personal relationships. And finally, how to find happiness when you're struggling. Barely managing to keep afloat. Surrounded by news of horror and pain. Seeing so many in pain, hurt by barbarians. How do you muster the courage when your Muslim brethren are suffering? You don't. You incorporate them in your prayers and hopes. You try to spread awareness. You acknowledge that you're conflicted and that's what makes you human. And ultimately you watch your own children, with their whole hearts and intact souls. Full with life. And you want to show them they too have a chance at conscious happiness if they try.

So I guess, my point is there's little in life that's black and white. People can tell you to behave a certain way, but not know what your circumstances are. The only question you need to ask before any choice you make is, 'will this ultimately hurt me?'. You need to be more mindful of others. You don't know what's it like to visit graves of loved ones in times of happiness such as Eid. There's no word to describe how it feels to want them to be present in this sweet moment and be torn apart by reality of life. And there's no way to handle your parents falling sick or aging. You just want to cherish them eternally. And lastly, you become what you think. So let's make room for thoughts that believe that even in a world of hatred, narcissism, unfairness we're planting seeds of kindness for a new tomorrow.

[nolabballgirl]

Hello. Do you mind if I ask what is your issues with the slave comment? I think it's a joke from Elias and Sana in original SKAM. Can you explain?

hi, Anon! thanks for your ask! i strongly dislike the slave storyline for two main reasons: (1) use of the word itself; (2) the storyline in context of the depiction of muslim men in sana seasons and in media generally. sorry this got sooo long and definitely falls into the rant category! 😅

(1) use of the word itself: so personally, it just rubs me the wrong way. i joke around all the time with my brother and male cousins, but if any of them called me a slave (or bitch tbh) especially in front of their friends...yeah ain’t happening! 😅 for starters, the word slave has such a fraught history in both the islamic and american context that i just don’t find it funny. but also we still have intracommunity issues around misogyny (every community does) so i personally don’t find it to be innocuous or would give it tacit approval, especially when said in a gathering of young muslim men. i get that others may not find it that offensive, but that's my personal take.

(2) in context of the season and in media: but more importantly, it perpetuates stereotypes about muslim men and their oppression of women that never gets rectified throughout the season. and it just adds on to the media's depiction of muslim men that's overwhelmingly negative. in the first half of OG s4, we have these scenes throughout the season re: muslim men and women:

slave storyline between elias and sana (ep. 1)

elias criticizing sana for being on a russ bus when he was on one himself and says: "I just don't want people to hate you. It's for your own good. I'm a boy so I don't get hate. I can just chill." and in the same scene talks about how hot sana's friends are. (ep. 2)

and in the very next scene with noora, sana says: "Trust me, you don't want a muslim boy. They just get together with Norwegian girls, just to take advantage of them. And as soon as they want to get serious, when they want a proper woman in their life, then they marry a muslim girl and ditch you." (ep. 2)

sana's mom asks why she didn't go to friday prayer, and sana says that elias never goes,. in response, sana's mom says: "Elias is just as ditzy as your dad. While the two of us, we're a little more focused." (ep. 3)

elias gets wasted and responsible, non-muslim yousef calls sana for help. (ep. 4)

sana tells her mom there's thing in islam she doesn't agree with like how muslim men can marry non-religious women (btw, that's not scripturally accurate! muslim men cannot marry atheists!) (ep. 5)

fight between balloon squad and boy squad, after when sana is washing blood off her hands, she overhears the pepsi max girls talking about her brother and the balloon squad and that they are probably homophobic because they are muslim and that vilde told them elias calls sana "slave." (ep. 5)

meanwhile throughout s4, yousef is presented as this mature, respectful, honorable and all around amazing guy (i mean he IS amazing!) and that it shouldn't matter that he's non-muslim, because he's so much better than all these hypocritical jerks who are muslim that sana knows. so the good/desirable love interest is equated with the non-muslim man, whereas the muslim man is problematic.

we put all these statements and scenes out in the universe, but there's no rebuttal or examination of these stereotypes about muslim men in the show. we simply have a magical eid party in the very last episode where everyone is automatically getting along and enjoying spicy meatballs. there's no indication that the pepsi max girls have gotten over their stereotypes of muslim men or that vilde still thinks it's weird that sana's brother called her a slave or that even though sana's mom is coming around to liking her white, non-muslim girlfriends, will she stop treating her male and female children differently? so we are left with more fodder to pile on to the overwhelmingly negative portrayal of muslim men in media. 

at the end of the day, it's very hard for me to divorce the slave storyline from the context of the show. and i can't help but think that julie andem and many other showrunners have this weird feministic take on islam - that it's not really compatible with "western" culture until it reforms; that practicing muslim sana should not be so rigid and open herself up to non-muslim yousef (a stand in for norwegian society) if she really wants to be happy.  

[contrabbandiera-di-elia]

Elippo Week 2020 Day 4 Canon compliant.

—

Salento was supposed to be a small trip. Only the five of them, at most six, if Gio would manage to convince Sofia to go. But somehow it became a journey with over fifteen people, including those who Elia knew not that well or not at all. Elia didn’t have much of the problem with that, although the perspective of a trip consisting mostly of couples (including his very recent crush and her new boyfriend) and strangers seemed like quite a challenge. Good thing that Elia liked challenges.

It turned out not to be so bad. After they planned out how to transport and accommodate so many people, the trip itself was great. A little bit crowded and chaotic, and too many kissing people around, but Elia really enjoyed himself. His friends turned out not to be a bunch of douchebags who would spend time only with their significant others, the girls were cool, although he subconsciously avoided being alone with Sana, Rami and his friends proved to be chill guys, Edoardo Incanti was trying his best to fit in, and he was doing a great job at it, and Filippo...

Filippo was the biggest surprise of all. Elia was surprised himself how quickly they clicked together. He had so many chances to talk to him before, but it was Sana’s Eid party that brought them closer. Maybe that was this whole renting thing, which was a sure thing for Filippo even trough Elia still didn’t give him a clear answer. Or maybe it had something to do with how similar they turned out to be. Elia couldn’t help but enjoy their little exchanges of sarcastic remarks and light jokes. Or maybe it had something to do with how somehow they were around each other more often than before. Whenever they were all meeting together, Filippo was somewhere close to him. And even if he wasn’t, Elia would somehow make his way towards Filippo. He wasn’t sure why himself. He simply decided it’s fun to be around Filippo and didn’t pay it any more attention.

With so many people around, it was loud and chaotic all the time. And even though Elia was generally a personification of these two words, sometimes even he needed a moment away from all this mess. Which is why one day he found himself on the beach, all alone. It was an early evening, quiet and peaceful. Everyone divided themselves into smaller groups or couples and tried to find their own quiet corner. Elia took this occasion to sneak away with his guitar and play a little. He could always use some additional training, Gio was constantly on his back telling him to play more because “he couldn’t carry the whole band on one guitar alone, for fuck’s sake.” He was surprisingly dedicated to this whole idea, even though Elia wasn’t sure how much longer they could last without a proper drummer and with their shitty songwriting.

“There you are! Luchino was looking for you everywhere!”

Elia looked up to see Filippo going towards him. He was waving at him as if he really thought Elia couldn’t notice him. It was impossible, not with Filippo’s splendid collection of colorful shirts. Right now, he was wearing a short-sleeve shirt, light pink with colorful flowers all over. Elia often thought about his own style as simple and toned down, but comparing to Filippo, everyone was simple and toned down.

“What does he want?”

“Marti and Gio were telling some story from the middle school, but it turned out they both remember it differently. Their argument got too heated, and Luchino hoped you’d provide some details to settle who’s right,” Filippo explained. Still, instead of waiting for Elia to get up, he sat down himself. Elia looked at him, amused. Typically for Filippo, he didn’t even ask if Elia want his companionship; he decided it himself.

“And what was it about? That story.” He asked, turning his eyes back to guitar’s strings as Filippo seemingly decided to stay instead of going back.

“Something about a school trip and how they both got terribly lost. Something like this. And they can’t decide whose fault it was.”

“Mine, actually,” Elia decided, smiling widely while remembering the story. “I mean, theoretically, Gio. But I kinda got them more lost.”

“You little piece of shit!”

“No, no. It’s their fault for being stupid. It was like… Gio accidentally joined the group from another school, he got distracted while he was picking a present for Eva. And Marti wouldn’t stop freaking out, obviously. So I kinda worked him up even more, so he went to look for him. Long story short, they got terribly lost, Peccio and I wouldn’t pick up our phones just to make it all more fun, the teachers finally figured out they were gone, they found him, Gio and Marti wouldn’t stop arguing whose fault it was that they got lost, because yes, Gio was the one to get lost at first, but Marti was the one who made them even more lost… And over the years, they magically forgot that I had something to do with it.”

Filippo was laughing, and it made Elia smile himself. That wasn’t their peak comedy story, but he was glad that it managed to make Filippo laugh. He liked this honest, spontaneous laughs of his. It made Elia think that he is, in fact, funny. Most people thought he’s just dumb, so it was a nice change.

“What a good friend you are, really.”

“I told you, it’s their fault. They could have been smarter.”

“It still makes you a little piece of shit.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Are you into sightseeing?”

Elia raised his head, looking from his guitar to Filippo. There was something in Filippo’s eyes that made him feel uneasy. Something he has often seen in the looks Filippo was giving him, but couldn’t clearly interpret. A glint, a sparkle, some deeper meaning. Elia wasn’t used to people looking at him like this.

“Eh... Yeah, sure. If there’s something cool to see, why not?”

“Ostuni is cool to see. Have you ever been there?” Elia shook his head, and somehow, it made Filippo smile. “Okay. Do you wanna go? It’s nearby, we can make it a one day trip, or maybe even half-day, it depends. I’ve heard it’s gorgeous, and it’d be a shame not to see it when we’re so close.”

“And who else is going? Or are we all going? Did I miss some planning, or did you guys made some plans when I was not around?”

There was a bit of silence that made Elia uncomfortable. He wasn’t used to sitting in silence with Filippo. It was the first time it happened, and it felt unnatural. Finally, Filippo sighed, which made Elia partly relieved and party stressed. He felt as if he said something wrong, but he had no idea what exactly.

“You’re quite clueless, aren’t you?”

“Excuse me?”

“There are no ‘others,’ Elia. I meant you and me only.” Having no answer, Filippo clarified after a short while. “I’m trying to ask you out.”

There was another moment of silence, but this time Elia wasn’t even thinking about whether it was uncomfortable or not. He simply didn’t know what to say. Filippo asking him out was the last thing he expected. Yes, he knew Filippo was gay. But it never crossed his mind that he could be possibly interested in him. Not that he was used to people being interested in him. Each of his serious crushes ended with his object of affection getting together with somebody else. It was pretty unusual for him to get somebody’s affection. And even more unusual to get it from a man. He never really thought about himself with another man. He didn’t have an occasion to.

“Look, it’s—”

“There you are!”

Elia turned his head so quickly that he was almost sure that something cracked in his neck. The rest of the boys were slowly approaching him, seemingly fed up with waiting for them. Typical for Gio, he liked resolving misunderstandings as soon as possible. The problem was, Elia wasn’t really ready to end the conversation.

Filippo, however, was.

“You don’t have to answer,” he said quietly. “This silence was quite telling. But that’s fine.”

He flashed him one last smile before getting up. Elia didn’t make a move, trying to analyze the situation twice as fast as he usually would. On the one hand, he definitely wasn’t gay. And he was never really interested in guys. So there was no reason for him to go on a date with Filippo.

On the other hand, there was no reason not to. He was never really interested in dating guys, but did it really mean that he couldn’t give it a try. And Filippo… Well, he had to at least hope Elia will say yes. So maybe he wouldn't mind being Elia’s first guy experience. Maybe he wanted to be. Otherwise, why would he even ask?

“Yes,” he spoke up. Filippo looked at him visibly confused. Theoretically, he could withdraw. He could change his mind. But he didn’t. Instead, he got up, looked Filippo straight into his eyes, and repeated. “Yes. Yes, I’ll go out with you. Hope you have a plan because I’m terrible at making them.”

He gave him one last smile and went to join the boys. He still wasn’t sure if that was the right decision. But did it have to be?

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

In Sorrow and In Joy- Part 8: To Be Grounded

Luke learns the hard way what it means to be a dad and how to keep his family safe and together. Dad!Luke with a South Asian Reader. This is a collaborative experience with A Family of Five.

CW: Over the course of this series, themes of racism and prejudice on the basis of religion are present. Please read or skip as necessary.

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No one has my permission to repost my work of fiction. This includes translations as well

_______________________________

Luke’s sure prayer is still going on, so he moves about the kitchen as quietly as he can. But that assumption is proven wrong when he hears Zahra’s cry from upstairs. “I have nothing to wear!” He knows for a fact her closet is packed to the hilt with clothes. But that’s not what she wants to hear. So he pauses in the kitchen, waiting for another huff to come. He knows it will. There’s some thuds from above him, sounds like stomping. Please, he begs silently, please just let today go well. Gripping the counter, Luke inhales for three seconds and exhales for five. That’s what his therapist warned him to do when he feels overwhelmed again. 

He passed overwhelmed a couple weeks. Right now he’s hanging on by threads. Though he’s positive those threads are gone too now, especially after last night. Last night, he fucked up. He knows he did. He slipped out of bed, snuck into the kitchen, grabbed whatever bottle he got his hands on and sat in the backyard, drinking right from the bottle. It felt good. He felt guilty too, but there was just an ounce of relief behind the guilt. Just enough for him to go for one more swig, when he knew he should’ve stopped. He feels terrible now, thinking about it agan. He feels even more like garbage because he keeps eying the stash. 

The stash only exists under the pretense that it’s there for company and company only. And for a while, that’s exactly what it was. Just for company. But now, it’s becoming his solace again. The thing that screws his head, or even unscrews it, when he’s overwhelmed so he doesn’t have to feel again. He has no clue how Calum does it, with three kids. Granted, Calum was always more level headed than he. But still Luke just can’t some days. He tries hard to be there for everything, he tries to understand the nuisance by being a teenager. He remembers what it feels like to have no control over your life. He knows, all too intimately, what it feels like to be someone else’s puppet. 

Luke slowly opens his eyes as he hears the soft click of dress shoes on the floor. Zeek rounds the corner, flashing a small smile to his father. “Upstairs is a warzone,” he laughs. “Shoes are flying.”

“It sounds like it,” Luke agrees. He pushes away from the counter, necklace hitting his chest and he waves Zeek over to the stove. “This look right?” he asks, waving over to the dish now simmering. 

Zeek nods. “Dad, you’re actually getting better at the whole cooking then.”

Luke’s chest bubbles with laughter. He was not the greatest cook, still isn’t the greatest. But he’s definitely gotten better. “Alright, smart alec,” he teases, ruffling the close crop of Zeek’s hair. Zeek huffs at his father’s antics. 

Noor’s the next one to survive the storm, covering the back of her head with her arms. “It’s dangerous up there,” she grins, finally standing to her full height. She pulls at the sleeves of her kurta. It’s similar to the grey one with a green pattern in your possession. Her’s is a light pink with gold accents around the neck and buttons. Noor took once glance to the one in your possession and fell in love with in it. So she begged her grandmother on the next adventure overseas to grab her one. 

Luke nods at her comment. He can only imagine the chaos happening up there. He doesn’t mean to leave all the messes to you. But he just can’t handle it right at this moment. He’s barely holding on anymore. He’s probably not holding onto anything anymore. But he can’t give up just yet. So he grabs the oven mitts and moves all the food to the table and kitchen island buffet style. 

After a few more minutes, the periodic stomps stop and the rhythmic sound of feet on stairs echoes. He knows it’s Zahra gate. She’s forgone anything too fancy, but still fancy enough in a blouse and billowy pant combination. “She’s arrived,” Luke teases. Ra huffs a little at Luke’s comment. She knows it’s just the band coming over, it’s nothing. But it’s one of the few things that Zahra does that makes her feel wholly herself. The day is hers. Well not really hers, but it puts her in the center. She has no one teasing her, no one prodding her about it. She can exist with no push back. 

You follow close behind Zahra, praying that the rest of the day goes without any more issues. With the kids focused on the food, you duck into the back room and grab the gifts. They’re all settled down, eager to receive what they know is behind your back in bags and envelopes. You hands the kids their gifts first, “Eid Mubarak,” falling off in rushed mumbles from their lips. You and Luke return the phrase. Zahra grins, peeping at the green in her hands. 

Luke hands his them his gifts. It’s always something extra. Noor immediately places the teardrop earrings on after cracking opening the box. Luke helps Zahra with the necklace and Zeek hugs you over the engraved pen. He’s always wanted a fancier pen to write and sign things his prints with, tired of using his drawing pens. The kids smile at you and Luke before all three rush back up stairs. 

“Do you know what’s happening?” You ask Luke. 

He shakes his head, asking you with his eyes if you know. You shake your head no, but grin as you hand over the gift for him. He always gives the same reaction, a head shake no, and a half step back. “You didn’t have.” You would think after nearly 15 years of marriage, he’d be used to this. But every year, it’s the same deal. 

You roll your eyes. “You are family.”

Luke’s never sure how to handle that. He knows he’s family. But he’s not family like this, this isn’t his holiday. He wasn’t raised on this. He doesn’t want to intrude. “Sweetheart, I’m being serious. Every year you do this.”

You huff a laugh. “And yet, every year you still refuse me.” Shaking the bag at him, you urge him to take the gift. He’s not sure what’s inside, the bag’s big, but not heavy. Cracking it open, he notices the record. He looks to you, eyes widened, jaw dropped. 

“How did you--What in the word?”

You just grin. The Rolling Stones record was not easy to come by. But you don’t let on to that. There’s no need. He pulls the record completely from the bag, the neon orange, yellow and red finally exposed. He grins, clutching it to his chest for a second, before flipping over to the back. “God, how long did this take to get?”

“Don’t worry about that. But you like it, right?”

“Babe, I love it,” he says softly, stepping into you. He places the record onto the counter before wrapping you up into a hug. Soft kisses line up around your forehead. The action reiterates his happiness with the gift. But you notice the hug’s not as tight as it usually is. You’re losing him. But you should you bring it up right now. You squeeze him just a little tighter for a beat and then pull away. 

The kids return. Noor holding a box and Zeek with a bag. He hands you the bag, watching your reaction. It’s just a book, one you mentioned in passing a couple weeks ago. The note is signed by all three kids. Luke feels his chest constrict as the sight of the necklace in his box. It’s a simple silver chain with a small pendant. On it there’s a circular design that just looks like an amalgamation of swirls. But Zeek talks about how there’s two different Z’s and an N inside the design to stand for the three of them, with your initial made up in the middle. “Guys, I love it. You three at the best thing to ever happen to me,” he says quietly hugging them. 

“Besides the band right?” Zeek teases. 

“He means before the band,” Noor corrects, lightly slapping at Zeek’s arm. 

Zeek rolls his eyes, but laughs. “Forgive me.”

There’s a twinge of disappointment when you realize Luke hasn’t given you anything. He’s always had something at this time. You woke in the morning and expected Luke to shove it into your hands almost immediately. But it didn’t happen, never one to try to make too big a scene you figured to wait. But here you are, waiting, still. 

“We waited to get you something else, Mum. But we were stomped,” Zahra confesses, hugging your side briefly.

You shake your head, ridding yourself of the dreading feeling of disappointment from Luke’s lack of a gift. A smile lifts your lips. “I love it. I don’t need much.”

She nods. “But still, sometimes we want to spoil you.” You kiss the top of her head, wrapping an arm around her. As the kids settle down in the living until the rest of the boys and their families arrive, Luke pulls you into the kitchen. “I didn’t forget about you,” he whispers, tucking some of your hair behind your ear. 

You only nod. He’s saying that but you notice how his eyes keep leaving your face. What’s catching his attention so much? “You okay?” you ask, forcing his attention back to you. 

He’s not okay. He’s not. Luke pushes the glasses up on his face. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I just wanted to let you know Michael’s bringing your gift. I didn’t forget. I swear to it.”

You nod. Why Michael has your gift is beyond you. But Luke’s not looking you directly in the eye, he keeps fidgeting with fingers. He’s slipping. The album’s taking longer than they originally thought, also they’re slowing down. Now with two of the four of them will fully established families. Michael’s on the verge of a family. He and his wife talk about having kids, but aren’t sure. Ashton’s settled down. But they’re antsy, they need an edge. They feel like they’ve lost it. But it can’t just be the record that’s getting to him. 

“You’re a terrible liar, you know,” you state. “Whatever’s going on, tell me.”

He shakes his head. Was he that bad already? “I’m okay.”

“Find me when you feel like telling the truth.” You exit the kitchen. Normally, you aren’t this direct, this confrontational. But you refuse to watch Luke spiral again. Whatever the reason doesn’t matter, you just want him to be honest, to stop bottling things up. 

Luke watches the spot you were occupying for a beat too long. His body freezes and his chest squeezes. He’s all too reminded of the day you actually moved out of the house. Harlowe had helped you move your things. She carried Zahra on her hip and you and Luke stood on the porch. He couldn’t beg you not to leave. He begged you instead to remember that promise of a second chance. To let him get himself together. But it still hurt, still made him feel like someone had replaced his air with fire watching you walk down those steps and to your car. It still made him cry for an hour on his front porch when your car backed out first, Harlowe in the U-haul behind you. 

Oh he is not going through that again. But he can’t spill his guts right now. He clears his throat and steps out of the kitchen, knowing your gaze is locked dead on him. The doorbell sounds and Luke walks over to answer it. Michael grins at him, the small holding cage in his hands. “Babe,” Luke calls, waving Michael inside. 

You immediately notice the small kitten, clawing at the cage. A black persian cat. You know the breed all to well. Luke unlatches the door. He reaches inside and carefully collects the cat into his arms. “You’re not even a cat person,” you whisper. 

He crosses the hallway to you. “But you are.” Silently, he offers to small ball of fur to you. “He doesn’t have a name yet.”

Noor walks over, gently petting the cat in your arms on the head. “So we might’ve known about the cat. Do you know how hard it was to keep that a secret?”

“He’s very sweet. He climbed up my arm. I have video,” Michael laughs, pulling out his phone. You’re too busy with the kitten in your arms. His smoked gray almost black fur. The melancholy gaze behind bright blue eyes. For a moment, you are a kid again. You have no worries, no traveling from country to country. There’s no harm, no death, no pain. His fur is soft and thick between your fingers. He studies you intently for a moment, before bringing his gaze around the room. 

“He’s absolutely the cutest thing.” The awe is evident in your voice, your voice thick and vision blurring just a hair. 

“I told you, I didn’t forget.” Luke scratches the top of the kitten’s head. As you gaze up at him, he thinks for a moment, he’s back on track. It took him weeks to pick out the right cat. He even brought the kids to the shelter several times. It did not take much to get Michael in on housing the kitten until the holiday. Michael, after fostering his first kitten, started undertaking some furry friends into his care more often. 

“You don’t like cats,” you huff. You want to keep it together. But the tears are already rolling. 

Luke shrugs. “He’s cute. I miss having a furry friend in the house.” You two had Petunia until her end. Which was a hard hit. But sometimes the only way out is through. “It’s not a dog, but he’s still company.”

The kitten peers over your arms, a clear indication that they want to get down, so you gently lower to the ground and watch him inspect the foyer and kitchen. “What are you gonna name him?”

“Oh shit,” you huff. “I-I don’t know.”

Noor gently taps your arm, a warning glare for the curse word. But she grins. “I say Floyd. Because you like Pinky Floyd. But Zeek said Smoke. It sounded dumb to me. But I didn’t say it.”

“I can hear you!” Zeek shouts. 

“Love you!” she returns, ducking behind Luke. Zeek peers around the corner and rolls his eyes. She always uses Luke as a shield. But it’s okay, he’s going to get her back. Luke places a hand on her back, laughing. This is what he missed. He misses his kids needing him. Zahra spends most of her time in her room or with her friends. Zeek has always been reserved. He’s close, but he’s not affectionate all the time. Noor at first and to this day is still very close to Luke, but lately instead of running to him for help she calls you more often. If she’s out shopping and can’t choose between a top, she turns to you now. Luke feels like he’s not needed anymore. His whole recovery hinged on his family needing him.

Luke recognizes that he had to get better for himself too. He couldn’t keep down that path, but it was much easier to tell himself it was for the benefit of someone else too. It felt more urgent that way. And now that urgency was leaving him. He had been feeling it for weeks. Just lacked the right way to bring it up to anyone. As the house fills up with Ashton and his partner, followed by Calum and Harlowe and their crew, Luke finds himself able to forget the urge in the pit of his stomach. He’s able to gaze at the stash and not long for it. 

“You cannot bring Floyd to the table,” Luke smiles, watching Noor with the cat in her lap. 

“Please?” she pouts. 

A sigh escapes his lips but he nods. He can’t say no to her. She beams up at him, collecting the kitten and rushing to the table. She throws her free arm around Luke’s waist. “Love you, Dad.”

A few tears prick behind Luke’s eyes. He rubs her back for a moment. “Love you too. Now c’mon, let’s eat.”

__

Luke’s been on the deck for a while. After the boys left and the kitchen was scrubbed down, Luke slipped out of the house. You had only noticed as the backdoor slipped close. You wanted to walk out after him, but you know better. If he’s not willing to talk, you can’t force him. The kids settle down for a movie after a twenty minute argument of who gets to decide. Floyd’s already asleep in your lap. Another reason for your lack of escape to the backyard. But as the backdoor cracks open and Luke leans into the house, you know you’ll have to move now. 

You slide Floyd into Noor’s lap, the closest one to you. Normally this sight would make Luke feel at peace. Normally he’s slide in next to you and tussle Zeek’s hair. He’d do something, but all he can muster right now is the slight nod to the outdoors. You slip through the small crack in the door, brushing up against Luke’s chest in the process. He closes the door behind you. The sky is clear and still. You’d normally ask, pry into what’s going on. But you don’t have to, as soon as the glass shuts, Luke grabs your hand. 

“I’m not okay,” he starts. “I feel useless again. I know I was doing so well. The whole point of me getting better was to be here for my family. And I feel like I’m fading.”

“Why? Why do you feel like your fading”

“The kids don’t need me like before.”

“They grow up. Things change. It’s an unfortunate truth.”

“I just--I’m not equipped for it. It feels like it came without a warning.”

“Just like you weren’t equipped for fatherhood. No one can really fix that. I can’t snap my fingers and make things better.”

He sighs, looking out to the night. “I know.”

“Tell me what I can do. What do you need?”

Luke runs a hand over his face. He needs help, he needs to be grounded again. “Come with me to my next appointment. I-I don’t know what I need. I just know I need help.”

Wrapping an arm around his waist, you tuck your head to his chest. “I can do that.”

When shouts start up from the inside of the house, the all too distinct sound of the kids shouting at each other, Luke tenses. It’s too much, his feet are planted to the ground. He needs to be grounded. He has to keep it together. He can’t bare the thought of be separated again from his family. You rub his back. You know you’ll have to do some more heavy lifting in the house. “We’re getting rid of the alcohol too.”

He nods, face buried in your hair. He’s fine with that. He’d prefer it actually. He just doesn’t trust himself to do it. No one said being a parent would be easy, but Luke never thought it’d be this hard for him. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m sorry I don’t have it together.”

“No one does. It’s okay to not have it together.”

“I’m sorry to do this on Eid. I really couldn’t have picked a worst time even if I tried.”

You laugh, softly, shoulders shaking just a tad. “Just as long as the kids got their gifts, we’re fine.”

“I’ll try to keep it together for the next two days.”

“If you need a breather, just let me know.” They’re kids aren’t particularly known for being the quietest bunch. It’s nothing but love, but it’s a well known fact. 

Luke lifts his head after kissing the crown of your head. “Thank you.”

You could say, ‘You’re welcome.’ You could tell him it’s your responsibility to care about his mental health. You could tell him a lot things. But the truth of the matter is that you will always care, you will always be there. “I love you,” you return. The truth of the matter is that even though it’s rocky you’re still by his side. That even though your heart breaks to see the man you love in such anguish, you are not going to give up on him. 

[mrjcollection]

Maria.B Collection in 2020

 Maria B is one of the top most famous brand around the globe. Our MRJ Collection have all products or dresses related to this brand. It’s a Pakistani Brand, which is owned by Maria Butt.MRJ Collection have all brands at their Outlet including Maria B. All kinds of designs including lawn, cottons, evening wear, etc.

Today MARIA.B. is Pakistan's most stylish brand in the USA with pret a Watchman, Lawn, weaved textures, cotton, cloth, formal wear and they sell Pakistani Clothes Online. . All inside one reasonable name while flaunting a broad retail network with twenty-five outlets involving both independent outlets and shopping center outlets in twelve unique urban communities the nation over.While additionally sending out to worldwide goals including USA, UAE, Qatar, Bangladesh, India, And UK.

MARIA.B began in twenty years before with one retail outlet and a little sewing unit where Maria's sole center was to give prepared to wear design that mirrored a mixture combination of east and west.

The brand has leader stores just as shopping center nearness everywhere throughout the USA.

The style world has seen Maria B. become exponentially throughout the years.

Maria B. was among the early bloomers of the Pakistani Designer Clothes of lawn and has been a predictable piece of the business for more than many years now.

Designs Wear

The entirety with printed pants is excessively awkwardly overpowering to move as pleasing summer season wear. Maria B. Has found out a way to shape a back collection that may without tons of a stretch fill in for traditional put on in the summertime. Anyhow, the blends look like off, and the thick weaved additional items, vigorously embellished online dupattas against big ribbon sleeves and designed, zari-covered grass shirts verge on tasteless. A portion of the pastel portions wearing blues and grays have saving graces however there's certainly numerous going on in one outfit and with each piece slice as per image, it would not offer a variety of escape both.

Night Dresses put on Design

MARIA.B becomes the most important planner to dispatch a prepared-to-put on nighttime/party put online designs. The variety consists of a collection of shading palettes and slices from conventional to an elegant combination of east and west, from coy to incredible; ideal for a night out, or maybe a companion's wedding ceremony.

MARIA.B. Wedding Designs

MARIA.B Brides in our high style line. There are designers if they want arises, alongside organized personnel and the studio has a diffusion of checks for weddings and formal night time put on. All installation to ensure that every lady of the hour receives the only of a kind stumble upon that she deserves the style. The mark clothing and attire on the studio are explicitly custom-designed to deal with the issues of all women. Our entire experience is geared up to fill a lady heart with pleasure the maximum designing in her life.

Cotton Designs

Our cotton line may be worn to the service center, to a conventional lunch, an occasion, or a casual supper as well. Our 'Eid assortment's are an increasing number of difficult and formal creating them best for the event. MARIA.B's maximum punctual logo was cotton; prepared to wear sublime clothing in unadulterated cotton.

Lawn/'Eid Lawn collection

The major originator design within the market, MARIA.B lawn began after 2005. Each plan detail is growing to become out to be complicated to offer the suitable 3 piece fits our clients. MARIA.B collection includes a scope of plans, colors, weavings, and textures.

Children wear

Our collection fuses various scope of colors. Youngsters line changed into began to fill the hole inside the marketplace for proper nice, fashionable yet conventional cotton/easygoing and formal Pakistani Women Clothes of age (2-14 years).

MARIA.B. Lawn

MARIA.B. Is a retail powerhouse with power in Pret design which is un-matched by any brand? This 12 month we will get loads more with specific designs of lawn, Linen, Khaddars and Embroidered Silk Collections? Other than our everyday luxurious back collection, we're the primary architect's call to design Arabi Lawn Prints this 12 months!

We realize how all of you went for Arabic back collection as they feel to wear at some point of summers, so we selected to present you truly that. Spring/summer time 2020 is the 19th of MARIA.B lawn and we've one greater notable development in our textures. While the latest couple of years have seen grass designs, and writer Lawns move back and forth, we've remained focused on what our clients love: in style plans and best textures. Grass design better than ever in 2020! With this new expansion, we're precise to go to take the MARIA.B. Along with this, we have an uncommon lawn definition for you that is lighter, milder, and an increasing number of lavish - with natural Egyptian Giza Cotton. As we preserve on growing, we can present to you the greatest, after a reputedly infinite amount of time after 12 months. So lock in for MARIA.B structures!

We are offering unadulterated Chinese silk dupattas and unadulterated Chinese silk chiffon simply due to the fact, so our customers may get the best that they need. MARIA.B. started out as a retail brand with a dream of bringing tremendous, in vogue clothes to the reducing aspect woman and has been producing 20 designs for each year for the past numerous years.

[odindiana15-blog]

Gifts , Shopping Secrets

All you need to do is visit the on-line shop. If you order on the internet or by phone before 2pm, you will get your order in prime condition the next working day.  One of the simplest approaches to add value is to provide free shipping leading to the December holidays.

Want to Know More About Gifts, Shopping?

Additionally, there's a fine variety of books on the human and natural history of the region, including all the Museum's own ASDM Press. Come to Kitchen Kettle Village in Lancaster County, and you're going to discover a distinctive shopping experience unlike any other. As a small company, you can produce a unique Black Friday offer and make the most of the rush around the holiday buying weekend. Gifts, Shopping You don't need to devote a million dollars to produce an effect. Your usage of the Reddit Gifts Services constitutes agreement to its stipulations too. Otherwise, the refund will be earned in the shape of an in-store credit. Gifts, Shopping Explained Shop in the internet is quite straightforward. Children would not want to depart from EAT Gifts. It is designed to make your life a little easier by providing you with a resource to help you with all your Christmas planning, shopping and decorating. Gifts, Shopping Counterfeit goods are not the same as knockoffs. 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In addition to conventional discounts, you may also search for strategies to reward people for shopping small with the addition of a bonus prize, such as, for instance, a gift card or gift certificate. Gift cards are a favorite gift in the united kingdom as a result of simplicity of use and the choice they give to the user. Gifts, Shopping - What Is It? Complain if you want, but you need to correctly conclude that additional Mother's Day spending is a sensible investment a premium for giving birth appears to be reasonable. One of the greatest strategies to celebrate the holidays is to reflect on everything that you've accomplished in the last calendar year. More than a third of individuals making $50,000 or less said they'd make their purchases near the holidays to receive last-minute deals. The Benefits of Gifts, Shopping By using our website, you consent to our site's privacy policy. Children would not want to depart from EAT Gifts. You might, however, visit our website anonymously. Choosing Good Gifts, Shopping In the event you or your recipient isn't totally pleased with the gift delivered level of your order please contact our customer service department immediately to guarantee a prompt exchange or refund. Most companies provide shipping insurance in the event the item is lost or damaged. As a small company, you share a distinctive connection with your clients and they'll be pleased to hear about all your success. Gift-boxing services aren't available on international orders. Your company is welcomed and appreciated. After that, customize your message to display your distinctive goods, services, or mission. Most Noticeable Gifts, Shopping Disputes as to whether to classify something for a work of art are called classificatory disputes about art. You'll locate a one of a kind collectible that's exactly righteven in the event the individual you're gifting is you! 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Gifts, Shopping Explained Flower should be put in indirect sunlight. The absolute most efficient messages and most powerful photographs can be shared on a photo mug and create an effect. A flower vase or a potted plant are likewise a great idea since they may last some time and are a fine add-on to the house decor. The Lost Secret of Gifts, Shopping If you're unsure what to choose, we're here to assist you with heaps of gift ideas. It's so very enticing to get gifts in the wee hours of the day. All year round gifts for any event! The Gifts, Shopping Trap

When there's an e-commerce side to your business enterprise, make sure to take part in the yearly on-line shopping event, Cyber Monday.  Aim for no later than a couple of months ahead of your wedding, since the previous thing you need to do the week prior to your wedding is shop for presents.  Our hot suggestion to make your gift even better this year is to select an experience for 2.

The Awful Side of Gifts, Shopping

With our site, one does not need to await the postman, or bear expensive courier expenses.  For instance, you may be requested to offer information when you register for access to certain portions of our website or request certain features, like newsletters or whenever you make a buy.  The amount and kind of information that Gifts-formen.

[pinkvilla]

EXCLUSIVE: Bharat producer Atul Agnihotri opens up on Priyanka Chopra's exit; Says she hasn't texted till now

Just 10 days before the shoot, Priyanka Chopra had informed Salman Khan that she won't be able to accommodate Bharat in her schedule. Producer Atul Agnihotri gives a detailed account of what followed after...

By now, Salman Khan and Eid have become synonymous terms. Every June, a Bhai film is what gets the box office jingling with crores and fans celebrating. This year will be no different as the superstar gears up to release his next project Bharat. The first few promos and songs have been unveiled and all of it has received a huge thumbs up from the audiences. Recently, we caught up with Atul Agnihotri, who is the co-producer of the film and has put the entire thing together and discussed about the film, the turmoil they went through when they found out that their lead heroine had walked out of the film. 

The film was initially going to reunite Salman with his Salaam-e-Ishq co-starPriyanka Chopra. Everyone was excited since the two actors haven't been seen sharing screen space since a long time now. But all of it seemed too good to be true. PeeCee decided to stage a walkout from the film, citing personal reasons, days before she was supposed to begin filming for it. From what we hear, it was Priyanka who had spoken to Ali and insisted on doing the movie, but 10 days before the Malta schedule, she broke the news of her impending marriage to Arpita Khan Sharma and then subsequently to Salman and informed them that she won't be able to play the part anymore. 

We happened to be present on the sets the day this news broke, but contrary to how people would think it would have been, the entire crew wasn't stressed at all. Atul recalls the day and tells us, "As a producer, I face challenges everyday. What you have seen or heard of is one of those. Some challenges are small and tiring, while some are big but quick to solve. I can't be thinking that I'll be sipping tea and coffee and everything will go my way. That's not going to happen because we are dealing with human beings who are instinctive and impulsive. It was a part of the movie coming together. But Bharat seemed to have a mind of its own. The way things happened, we don't have any regrets."

Atul also adds that he was indeed happier when Katrina Kaif was brought on-board. "Personally, my choice for the film was always Katrina, even when we were discussing whom to cast. The director's take was different - Ali wanted Priyanka," he continues. "So for me, when Katrina came back in the project, it wasn't a setback in my head. I felt it was meant to happen. I'm consciously trying to cater to Bhai's fan base and there's a certain responsibility on me because it's an Eid release. I feel with Salman bhai, nobody looks better than Katrina. There couldn't have been a better time than making a film like Bharat. It's meant to be for them. Everything felt like a setback for a few minutes, but we were never facing a big roadblock."

Talking about the Zero heroine, Atul says, "Katrina is a friend of us all. She was aware of everything. It was extremely thoughtful of her to not ask a single question when we went to her for the film. That is true professionalism. She was motivated right from the start and her intention was pure towards the film. She was determined to give a very special performance in the film and I think this is her finest so far."

Has Piggy Chops got back to him? Atul rues, "Priyanka still hasn't texted me. She never spoke to me about walking out of Bharat. It was a message I received on the set. I was like, 'It's okay, yeh ho gaya. But let's now fix it'. The news came to me via people." But the producer who is known to be an understanding person, adds, "I understand she was getting married and was in love. So, it's okay because that's the bigger decision of her life. Of course, it's great to discover and find love and it's even better to marry the person you love. I wish her all the best for her life. That one day, I could have felt a little different, but at the end of it, when you see things from the hindsight, it's fine."

Did Priyanka's walkout hurt, given that she is also a family friend, we ask. Pat comes his response, "It doesn't hurt. But it upsets your planning. It's a Salman Khan film so the timing of the information left us a little unsettled for a bit. But we are fortunate to have friends and supporters who know that our only intention is to make a great film. Whoever saw that and came on-board, their contribution is priceless. It can't be reciprocated in words," Atul signed off with a smile.

[southeastasianists]

It’s a long drive to the city of Tanjung Balai in North Sumatra, Indonesia—almost five hours from the provincial capital of Medan, on winding roads past emerald green paddy fields and through palm oil and rubber plantations. The city is one of the main ports in North Sumatra, and connects both Malaysia and Singapore with Indonesia. Like many port cities, a large proportion of residents in Tanjung Balai make their living from the sea.

Meiliana, a Chinese-Indonesian and a Buddhist, was no exception. Having lived on Jalan Karya in Tanjung Balai for eight years, she owned a simple store selling salted fish with her husband, Atui. But in July 2016, Meiliana’s life was thrown into disarray, and in August 2018 she was sentenced to one and a half years in prison for blasphemy by the Medan District Court.

How it all began

It started out almost as a throwaway comment.

In July 2016, Meiliana walked across the road from her small house on the sleepy street of Jalan Karya to buy breakfast buns from Kasini, a 51-year-old Javanese Muslim who owns a small shop selling sundries. It was something she did almost every morning.

Kasini and Meiliana weren’t exactly friends, but they had a cordial relationship. At Eid-ul-Fitr, the end of the Muslim fasting month, Meiliana would bake cakes and take them to Kasini’s house.

On that fateful morning, as Meiliana paid for her buns, she had a request for Kasini. “Can you tell Wak [grandfather] to turn down the volume of the mosque speakers? It’s so loud it hurts my ears.”

Kasini’s father, 75-year-old Kasidik, has worked at the Al Ma’shum Mosque since 2007 as one of its caretakers. Five times a day, he walks the few feet to the mosque from the home he shares with Kasini and her children and puts a cassette in an old-fashioned tape player. The azan (prayer call) then rings out across Jalan Karya, reminding Muslims that it’s time to pray.

Karsini didn’t think much of Meiliana’s comment, other than wondering why, having lived just ten paces away from the mosque for the last eight years, she was suddenly bothered by the sound of the azan.

“I did think, why is she saying this to me?” she tells New Naratif. But the mood was calm, and Kasini passed the request on to her father. He, in turn, told another caretaker, who then told the imam (the spiritual leader of the mosque).

That comment, first made over a breakfast bun, then started to take on a life of its own.  

Just a few days later, Kasini and Kasidik noticed that the street outside Meiliana’s home was suddenly clogged with cars and motorbikes. People started showing up at all times of the day and night, and they could hear shouting. At one point Kasini says she thought she heard Meiliana’s eldest son exclaim, “We’re all adults here! What’s wrong with you?”

Word of Meiliana’s comment about the mosque speakers had spread from a neighbour to her father, from a father to his co-workers, from the co-workers to more neighbours, and from the neighbours to social media. The message got distorted as it passed from one to another, and eventually people were saying that Meiliana had tried to stop the Islamic call to prayer and insulted Islam, violating Indonesia’s infamous blasphemy law (Pasal 156A KUHP), which carries a maximum five-year prison sentence.

A few days later, Meiliana’s husband Atui went to the mosque to publicly apologise for his wife’s comments. Meiliana was either too scared or too stubborn to go with him. In the end, it hardly mattered; her husband’s apology failed to insulate her against what happened next.

Prominent Islamic organisations, such as Front Umat Islam (FUI), successfully pressured the police to file an official report (link in Bahasa Indonesia). In 2017, the North Sumatra chapter of the Majelis Ulama Indonesia (MUI), one of the largest Muslim organisations in Indonesia, issued a fatwa (a non-legally binding but official pronouncement on Islamic law) against Meiliana. A mob proceeded to riot, pelting Meiliana’s home with rocks and bottles. They then set fire to Buddhist temples in Tanjung Balai.

Kasini claims that Meiliana was originally taken into custody for “her own protection”, as the authorities were worried she’d be lynched if she stayed at home. But instead of protecting her, they charged her with blasphemy.

According to one of Meiliana’s lawyers, Ranto Sibarani, the court proceedings were chequered at best.

The prosecutors presented the fatwa and a written statement from a witness at the riot outside Meiliana’s home as evidence. Sibarani claims it was mostly based on hearsay; no recordings of the original comment were provided. “They brought the mosque amplifiers as an item of evidence,” Sibarani tells New Naratif. “The officials welcomed the rioters with open arms. The case was heavily influenced by an intervention from the masses.”

A sense of disbelief over the legitimacy of Meiliana’s case continues to loom large. “She did not commit blasphemy. What she did was offer a neighbourly complaint, and that is not an insult to Islam,” Ismail Hasani, the research director at the rights advocacy group Setara Institute, told The Washington Post. “More generally, we believe that the blasphemy law itself does more than anything else to limit freedom of religion in Indonesia.”

Particular to Meiliana’s case, there’s also been a debate about the volume of the call to prayer, and whether a request to lower it qualifies as blasphemy. In 1978, Indonesia’s Religious Affairs Ministry released (link in Bahasa Indonesia) instructions on how to properly manage the volume made by a mosque amplifier, prioritising melody over loudness; Indonesia’s current vice president, Jusuf Kalla, has also advised mosques in Indonesia to be mindful of the volume of their speakers, and dispatched technicians to help fix faulty amplifiers.

Kasini says she feels “exhausted” by the case. She had to go to the police station countless times to give her testimony about Meiliana’s comment, and once attended court in Medan to give evidence. She says that when she made her statement to the judge, Meiliana was not there to hear the testimony against her, so the former neighbours didn’t have to face each other.

When asked if she believes Meiliana committed blasphemy, Kasini shrugs her shoulders and looks confused. “I don’t know anything about the blasphemy law, so I just leave it up to the judge. He must have known what he was doing,” is all she will say.

Kasini isn’t the only one who’s exhausted.

Meiliana’s story is one of fatigue for anyone who has tried to follow the trajectory of Indonesia’s nebulous and opaque blasphemy law, and the myriad cases that have unfolded over the years, always following a similar pattern.

Here, the cycle continues: frivolous litigation favouring the offended and mobilised mob; a president’s inability “to intervene in the legal process”; an outpouring of signatures in an online petition (link in Bahasa Indonesia); political convenience.

The blasphemy law in Indonesia is built upon all of these things—this is the story of how it’s wielded, how it unfolds, and how it (still) stands.

Indonesia’s problem with blasphemy

The blasphemy law has its roots in the administration of Indonesia’s first president, Sukarno. Signed into force by Sukarno in 1965, the law was originally meant (link in Bahasa Indonesia) to “accommodate requests from Islamic organisations who wanted to stem the recognition of indigenous beliefs.” It was later used as a way for President Suharto, the authoritarian second president of Indonesia, to prosecute anyone who dared to criticise his government.

Attempts to revoke the law have failed on more than one occasion. Indonesia’s fourth president, Abdurrahman “Gus Dur” Wahid—who wrote an article in 1982 for Tempo magazine entitled “Tuhan Tidak Perlu Dibela (God Does Not Need to be Defended)”—was once involved in an unsuccessful petition to revoke the blasphemy law. In July 2018, a petition launched by the Ahmadiyya Muslim community in Indonesia, who claimed that the law inhibits their religious freedom, was also rejected.

Anyone who stands accused of blasphemy in Indonesia also faces a tough legal battle with little chance of acquittal.

“Since 2004, there hasn’t been an appeal [in blasphemy cases] that has been granted by the court,” Andreas Harsono, a researcher at Human Rights Watch, tells New Naratif. “Out of 89 cases [in Indonesia’s sixth President Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono’s administration], 125 [individuals] were convicted. And out of 20 cases, 22 [individuals] were convicted in President Joko Widodo’s current administration.”

One of the more recent blasphemy cases involved the erstwhile Jakarta governor, Basuki “Ahok” Tjahaja Purnama, who was sentenced to two years in prison under the blasphemy law. Accused of insulting Islam for having quoted the Quran while on the campaign trail during the 2017 Jakarta gubernatorial election, thousands of demonstrators took to the streets, calling for Ahok to be imprisoned.

Although the scale of Ahok’s case was far greater, the patterns in Meiliana’s case mirrored his.

A continuing streak of religious intolerance

At the very heart of Meiliana’s case—and all of the other cases preceding it—is Indonesia’s continuing streak of religious intolerance.

Tanjung Balai is known for having a sizeable Chinese-Indonesian population; Chinese traders, arriving by sea, started to pour into the area in the 1800s. According to official records, the city has just over 185,000 residents, 157,000 of whom are Muslim and 11,000 of whom are Buddhist. At times in the city’s history, tensions between the different communities have flared.

In 2009, Tanjung Balai bore witness to the removal of a Mahayana Buddha statue. “The appearance of the Buddhist statue elicited a violent reaction from Islamic leaders. Wahhabi leaders under the United Islam Movement (GIB) organised rallies and protests in May and June last year, calling for the statue to be taken down. They argued that it tarnished the image of Tanjung Balai as a Muslim town,” wrote Human Rights Watch in a report.

Following Meiliana’s comments in 2016, a mob tore through the city and targeted several of its 16 Buddhist temples.

This outbreak of violence is now considered to be one of the worst examples of racially motivated mob “justice” that Indonesia has seen since 1998, when rioters attacked primarily Chinese-Indonesian communities in Medan, looting from shops and attacking local residents. The riots then swept across the country, leaving 1,000 people dead.

Atu is the 68-year-old caretaker of the Tiau Hau Biao Buddhist Temple, which sits on the estuary of the Asahan River in Tanjung Balai. The air is heavy with the scent of  drying fish, and fishermen sit in front of the temple and cast their nets in the shadow of its crimson roof.

Atu has worked as a caretaker of the temple for 10 years, since it was first built, and works from 5am to 8pm, seven days a week. His main duties include sweeping the floors and replenishing the incense. Back in 2016, he was at home when the temple was attacked in the middle of the night. When he arrived in the early hours of the morning, the building was still aflame.

“I don’t know how much gasoline they brought with them, but they sure used up every single drop,” he tells New Naratif. Atu, and local residents who had come to help, set up a crude pump system to funnel water from the river to quench the flames.

It took over an hour to put the fire out.

Once the flames subsided, Atu saw that the roof of the temple has been destroyed. The statues had been burned. The floor tiles smashed.

The restoration of the temple to its former glory took several months. According to Atu, the money promised by the government to help pay for it never materialised. Instead the refurbishment was made possible by donations from the local community.

19 perpetrators were eventually caught. According to news reports, “Eight were charged with looting, nine with malicious destruction of property and two with inciting violence”. All were given sentences ranging from one to four months in jail. Despite having ransacked official houses of worship, none of the rioters were charged with blasphemy, because no one filed an official complaint against them—one of the stipulations for someone to be tried under the law.

Atu laughs dryly and shakes his head when asked about this. “Not fair, of course it’s not fair. They should have got longer sentences.”

He also says that the case appears to show a trend towards rising religious intolerance in Tanjung Balai. “We used to be more united, but now the different religious groups have started to split,” he explains. “For years I went to sea as a fisherman and left my family at home. I never worried about them.”

Now he can’t forget the sight of his beloved temple burning in the morning light.

The attacks on temples in Tanjung Balai certainly appear to show worrying echoes of the race riots that traumatised the Chinese-Indonesian community in 1998.

Sirojuddin Abbas, a researcher at Saiful Mujani Research and Consulting (SMRC), says that Meiliana’s case shows how the blasphemy law is being deployed to punish members from minority groups. “The target is always a member of the minority groups,” he says. “That still is the thing that has not healed from our majority groups: their distrust. In a pluralistic town, for example, even if there’s only a person who is not a Muslim, not having to hear excessive noise from a mosque speaker is still a human right.”

Atu dismisses the idea that the people who attacked the temple were hired thugs, brought in to stir up racial unrest. In 1998, it was thought that members of the Indonesian military deliberately did just that to spark widespread riots and deflect attention away from the failings of the government, which led to the fall of President Suharto after 32 years in power. But, despite the fact that these attacks in Tanjung Balai seem to have been less tightly organised and politically motivated, it doesn’t reassure Atu.

“I heard the rioters were mixed,” he says. “Some outsiders. But they must have had someone on the inside. Someone from Tanjung Balai.”

After news of the fire at the temple spread, Atu says local residents started visiting in droves to check out the damage. Buddhist festivals are held at the temple every January and October, and are popular events with the local community. Muslims also come to watch the colourful festivities.

Atu says he hopes for a bigger crowd than usual this coming October, due to the publicity that the blasphemy case has sparked, which has actually raised the temple’s profile. He feels that a large, mixed crowd of spectators will be a good thing, and that local Muslims getting a taste of Buddhist culture which will help bolster relations between the different communities once more.

“But this year, the police will be guarding us,” he adds.

The politics of blasphemy

Rising religious intolerance is one way of looking at Meiliana’s case. But there are other lenses through which to examine this issue. One of them has to do with the question of whether religious intolerance is a mere manifestation of political expediency.

In April 2019, Indonesian voters will go to the polls to elect a president. As both candidates, current President Joko Widodo and former Major General Prabowo Subianto, look to curry favour with Muslim voters in a country where 87% of the population is Muslim, changing the blasphemy law could be a risky move that could cause a backlash from more conservative sections of the Islamic community.

As Savic Ali, an activist with the Jaringan Gusdurian network of progressive Muslims, says, “I think [Prabowo and Jokowi] won’t make concessions with regards to the blasphemy law. Jokowi wants a safe position, as to not anger his Muslim voting base, and I think Prabowo does, too.”

And it goes beyond just individual voters.

Ali continues to say that two of Indonesia’s largest Muslim organisations, Nahdlatul Ulama (NU) and Muhammadiyah, won’t allow for the possibility of the blasphemy law being completely revoked anytime soon, as both believe it to be an important tenet of Islamic law. Fast forward to the presidential elections in 2019, and it’s likely that both Jokowi and Prabowo will be wary of alienating voters affiliated with either organisation—or indeed the organisations themselves, who hold significant political power in Indonesia.

Another warning sign that the blasphemy law is unlikely to be overturned or discarded anytime soon is the appointment Ma’ruf Amin as Jokowi’s running mate in the race for the presidency. Amin, who is the chairman of the MUI and known for his conservative views on Islamic law, initially said that he deplored the violent riots in Tanjung Balai following Meiliana’s comment. But, this did not stop the North Sumatra chapter of the organisation issuing a fatwa against her in early 2017.

Amin has also thrown his support behind other high-profile blasphemy cases in the past, and wields significant political and judicial influence. “He plays the most important role in sending people to jail, like Ahok,” says Harsono, in a reference to Amin’s statement against the former governor of Jakarta, widely thought to have been one of the driving forces behind his conviction.

Another example of the way politics and the blasphemy law are entwined is evident in Meiliana’s case when you consider the collateral damage: her family. Sibarani tells New Naratif that Meiliana’s son is still “afraid of the sight of a crowd” after the riots outside his home. Jokowi has said that he can’t intervene in legal cases or in Meiliana’s appeal, but there are those who think that he could show goodwill in other ways.

“He needs to say something about the need for Meiliana’s family to be, say, socially and psychologically rehabilitated,” says Abbas.

A few words from the president could perhaps go a long way in helping Meiliana’s four children to heal—still, he has remained silent, presumably so as not to offend any members of his conservative fanbase.

Yet again it seems, politics has turned the blasphemy law into a matter of convenience for those jostling for power. This refusal of politicians in Indonesia to engage in discussions about the blasphemy law has serious implications, and muddies the waters about its essential premise.

While outright revocation may not be on the cards, in its current form the law is porous and easily abused. Not everything can or should fall under the umbrella term “blasphemy”, and one of the main criticisms of the current version of the law is that it’s overly broad, encompassing a range of other issues like hate speech.

Ali says that, for serious situations that could be construed as blasphemous in nature,  like urinating on a Bible, for example, there needs to be a revision to the law instead of an outright repeal. But for other cases, such as a complaint about the volume of a mosque speaker, the law needs to be clear about what the term “blasphemy” actually means. “Several points of the law need to be amended so that it can’t be a catch-all law,” he says.

As it currently stands, the only thing that’s clear is that the core meaning of “blasphemy”—and what it should encompass—is something that’s confused and confusing in Indonesia. And the lack of political will to even discuss potential changes to the law means that the absurdity of the very concept of blasphemy still remains in the shadows.

After all, were there people rightly convicted according to the blasphemy law in Indonesia?

For people like Harsono, this question goes right to the heart of the issue. “Of course there weren’t. How do you interview God?”, he says.

Hope for a change to the law?

Politicians might not want to rock the boat, but there might be a glimmer of hope on the horizon.

Since her sentencing, Meiliana has had some support from surprising allies.

As well as a Change.org petition with over 202,000 signatures, members of both Muhammadiyah and NU have criticised Meiliana’s sentencing—although not the blasphemy law itself, other than to say that it was incorrectly implemented in this case. Still, “both of these statements are unprecedented,” says Harsono. On Twitter, Indonesia’s religious affairs minister, Lukman Hakim Saifuddin, offered(link in Bahasa Indonesia) his services as Meiliana’s key witness if needed.

Though conceding that the situation is “bleak” and that electoral prospects are likely to get in the way of either presidential hopeful wanting to fully embrace reform, Abbas says that public support for Meiliana gives him cause for optimism.

Sibarani tells New Naratif that Meiliana’s counsel plan to file an appeal. This will add yet another chapter to her story, and could have repercussions across Indonesia if it’s successful. “If it goes through, we hope that it can be a legal breakthrough,” he says.

Until then, Meiliana’s former home remains shuttered.

A neighbour tells New Naratif that Meiliana’s husband was forced to move. Several members of the Chinese community from Jalan Karya asked him to relocate, as they were scared that they too would be the victims of reprisals and violence—tarred with the same brush of being “anti-Islam”. The neighbour also says that the couple had to give up their salted fish business on Jalan Asahan as they lost their permit to operate in the building as a result of the outcry surrounding the case. It’s unclear who gave the order for this to happen.

Atui has now moved to the city of Medan to be closer to Meiliana in prison, and is trying to build a new life.

When asked how she feels about this, Kasini looks pained. She wasn’t the one who made the original comment about the mosque speakers, but if she hadn’t passed on Meiliana’s request to her father, then perhaps none of this would ever have happened.

Does she think that Meiliana truly committed blasphemy and got the punishment she deserved?

Kasini looks lost for words. “Well… why did she buy a house so close to a mosque?” she says. “And why did she live here for eight years without any problems? Even if we had turned down the volume, she would still have heard the sound of the azan.”

Pressed again, and asked if this was fair and if she feels responsible for Meiliana’s fate, Kasini’s chin starts to tremble and her eyes fill with tears. She looks completely overwhelmed by the firestorm this case has caused—and which has consumed her life for over two years.

She insists she was just the messenger, when she passed on the words that ended with a woman in jail and a family torn apart.

Finally she looks up from the floor.

“If I’d known this was going to happen…” she says, her voice breaking, “then maybe I wouldn’t have said anything at all.”

[bewitchingbooktours]

Edge by Susan Mac Nicol- Deck the Halls with Books Holiday Extravaganza

What does Christmas- the season of goodwill - mean to me?

In the words of Natalie Imbruglia, I’m a little torn. There’s good and bad aspects. I’m going to tackle them both. I love the vibe and hype of the season, shopping for presents for people and seeing all those sparkly lights. I’m not religious so Christmas for me has never been about Jesus or anything remotely biblical.

Christmas for me is the shiny season. It’s the vibrancy of coloured lights and tinsel. It’s the silky sheen of wrapping paper and the twinkle of baubles on the tree, the smell of spruce, and orange chocolate, and mulled wine. It’s a sensual time when everything meshes together into a festive package of scents and sights that stirs the senses and brings families and friends together. It’s a time for kindness, when soup kitchens are manned by volunteers willing to give up their time to contribute to making someone’s else life a little bit happier for a while. It’s also the time you can get your own back on grumpy Aunt Mabel, who insists on giving you socks each year. The dildo you bought for her will go down a treat. She may even find a unique use for it, ‘stirring’ the Yorkshire pudding mix perhaps. *sniggers*

It’s also the time of a high suicide rate, a plethora of homeless people on the streets, watching with jaundiced eyes as those more fortunate than them strolled past in laughter and merry cheer, while carting presents that would probably have bought a week’s shelter and food for one of these street people. This season is a time of extremes-—one parent buying their kid a Ferrari or a football team, another just managing to scrape together enough money to buy their child a football or a toy truck; of one-upping the Joneses, of making sure things are bigger and better than the other person’s offerings.

So, like a piece of tinfoil, there’s a dull and shiny side to the season. It’s a pity we can’t find it within ourselves to bring the season of goodwill to all men to people the whole year around instead of just a few short-lived days. That as a species we can’t simply adopt an attitude of love and acceptance to all mankind as we work together to keep this world of ours from spiralling into decay.

In the true spirit of giving, why not buy a homeless person a cup of coffee. Drag out those old blankets you have in the cupboard, give them a wash and let the people suffering the cold have them. Donate to a deserving charity,like one that teaches people about respecting diversity. Show a starving pet some kindness.You don’t have to give much - just a little.

http://www.akt.org.uk/2/spg357/albert-kennedy-trust-helping-young-lgbt-people/can-you-help/donating.aspx

https://give.thetrevorproject.org/checkout/donation?eid=63307

www.crisis.org.uk

Edge

Susan Mac Nicol

Genre:  M/M Rockstar Contemporary Romance

Publisher: Boroughs Publishing Group Ltd

Date of Publication:  Feb 7th 2022

ISBN:978-1-957295-05-3

ASIN:  B09RZM617P

Number of pages:  221

Word Count: 65000

Cover Artist: Boroughs Group Publishing

Tagline:    Words cost nothing to write but sometimes, they lead to heartbreak and tragedy.

Book Description: 

Since he was young, Jory Longstone has been keeping a diary to catalogue his exploits, which helps inspire his music. He finds solace in managing his complicated life through the written word, which he never intended for anyone else to read.

Until one man did, and he now controls Jory's life.

While his band's star is rising, Jory remains trapped and ashamed - closed off from emotional attachments for fear of discovery.

And then he meets Damian Foyle, manager of his family-owned cinema, a place where Jory loves to hide and relax. The antithesis of a rockstar, Damian loves his martial arts classes, tinkering with motor parts, and the simple life.

Damian's first meeting with Jory is just shy of a disaster, and yeah, the second one isn't all that great either.

Jory is annoying, sexy as hell, temperamental, and one helluva rock god in tight trousers. It's all Damian can do not to burn up in the heat of the man's fiery personality.

But getting close to his heart is another thing altogether, and Damian won't settle for anything less.

Amazon     Books2Read

About the Author:

Bringing lovers together, one book at a time…

Susan writes steamy, sexy and fun contemporary romance stories, some suspenseful, some gritty and dark and hopefully always entertaining. 

She’s also Editor in Chief at Divine Magazine, an online LGBTQ e-zine, and a member of The Society of Authors, the Writers Guild of Great Britain, and the Authors Guild in the US. Susan is an award-winning script writer, with scripts based on two of her own published works. Sight Unseen has garnered no less than ten awards to date and her TV pilot, Reel Life, based on her debut novel, Cassandra by Starlight, was also a winner at the Oaxaca Film Fest. 

She loves going to the theatre, live music concerts (especially if it’s her man crush Adam Lambert or the divine Cumberbatch) walks in the countryside, a good G and T, lazing away afternoons reading a good book, and watching re-runs of Grimm.

https://www.authorsusanmacnicol.com

https://filmfreeway.com/SusanMacNicol

https://www.bookbub.com/profile/susan-mac-nicol

https://landing.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/o5g1i5 

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6472959.Susan_Mac_Nicol

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