Taking A Break

Hey friends,

I will be taking a break from blogging for this week.

I am also fasting this week, and I don't think I should be blogging while I am fasting.

Take care you all!

Mansur

Suffering in Life

Hi friends,

I don’t know about you, but I suffer a lot in life. To those few people who know who I really am can understand my situation. Some days in my life, I feel so tired, mentally that is. When I am tired mentally, my body is tired, and because of that I feel physically weak. Every time I ask someone why people suffer, they tell me that Life is a Test, and suffering is a part of that. Fair enough, but can I please get some answers from anywhere about why I go through crap in life?

Funnily enough, this weekend, my friends and I were discussing about suffering, and how some people suffer for what they believe in so strongly. These could be people who are persecuted for their faith, to people who dedicate their lives to causes, like Greenpeace, and endure harassment and suffering because of it. While talking about suffering in life, we all came to the conclusion that people will suffer in this life. No one lives a life free from suffering, yet each one of us has a level of suffering to the extent that we can endure. God will not make us suffer beyond what we can bear.

A girl in our group came up with some reasons, as she had done a paper on the same topic, and I thought her ideas were very real and true. Her focus was primarily on suffering as people living in faith. She said that one reason why people suffer in life is that the world will talk against you and your beliefs. Muslims are persecuted for their beliefs in places like Chechnya. Christians are persecuted in places like China and Saudi Arabia. Buddhists suffer for their beliefs. When you abide by a faith, whatever one it is, the world will oppose it and you will suffer on account of your faith. The three monotheistic faiths already tell their followers that the world will oppose them for what they believe in.

Another example she had mentioned was that suffering is a form of worship. When you suffer, you are in a way worshipping God, because this would mean that you are actually being obedient to God, causing people to oppose you. If you were not suffering for God, that would mean you are following the ways of the world.

A third reason she mentioned was that when you suffer, God uses that suffering to work something for the better. It is important to look at the bigger picture and realize that our suffering may be a part in God’s bigger plan for this world.

While I haven’t gone into details about all this, I think suffering is indeed a part of life. I suffer a lot; a lot of it is internal suffering. I may look very fine on the surface, and many people may think I have a carefree and easy-going life, but they will never realize the daily struggles I have to face.

Some days I consider it a joy to suffer, others days I am torn apart and literally have to fall down on my knees to ask for mercy and grace.

Mansur

Snopes

Hey friends,

One of my favorite sites online is Snopes. There are a bunch of people who work at Snopes, and they analyze and check out the facts for a lot of rumors that fly around. It's very informative, and a great place to check out the reality behind some of the more absurd rumors. Quite interesting.

Mansur

Grendizer!

Hey friends,

My elder brother Sal and I were chatting on MSN tonight, and he had me laughing out so loud, I literally had to control myself from laughing. Thank God he had to leave to pick his daughter up, otherwise I would have gone to the bathroom. Sal hasn't made me laugh this much before, but tonight he just topped it off! I think what he and I talked about brought back a lot of memories from Jeddah! We so wished we could go back and live in those innocent days.

What's the reason? Grendizer!! (I am laughing out loud even now as I type this!)



As kids growing up in Jeddah, we would be transfixed with arabic cartoons, namely Grendizer. Other's included Majed, the footballer, and Simba the Lion. There is another which I can't place right now, but when two of our friends would be over at our house, all four of us would choose a cartoon character and pretend to be that one. We would grab a packet of milk, and be glued in front of the tv. These cartoons made our day!

Back to Grendizer. I don't know what it is that made Grendizer so special to us. Sal thinks that the music is awesome-- must've brought back memories. I mean, this site has the whole breakdown of Grendizer episodes, the characters, the music and so on. There is one very highly dedicated person out there who seems to have devoted his life to Grendizer.

It's unbelievable. Sal has asked me to tell all my Jeddah friends to check it out, and relive your childhood. Excuse me while I go away laughing away at the rest of the site.

Mansur

My Guitar and Me!- UPDATED

Hey friends,

I finally started to learn to play the guitar. When I was in school, I had learnt how to play the flute, and I quite didn’t like it, and I cannot remember why I had to play it. I wish I had learnt how to play the guitar.

In 2003, a friend had gifted me a guitar. It's the Yamaha Acoustic C-40, and I absolutely love it. For a while I practiced on it, and then left it aside as other things cropped up. Last week, I took it out again, and now I am back to learning my chords. Playing a guitar is no easy task, and my respect for those who play decent music on the guitar has gone up. I went to see Jason Carter (an expatriate guitarist) in concert in Dubai several years ago, and he played his guitar in the most amazing way. He played flamenco and Spanish music mostly. The strumming is not an easy thing to do. Switching between chords is not easy. As with everything, practice makes perfect.

So next time you are in Dubai, make sure to ask me and I shall play one song for you on the guitar as part of my part to entertain you. Lol! :-)

Mansur
---
To clarify those people who would outright say that guitar is illegal in Islam, I wish to share this online fatwa, taken from Islam Online, which basically states that:

"In his response to the question you posed, Sheikh Ahmad Kutty, a senior lecturer and an Islamic scholar at the Islamic Institute of Toronto, Ontario, Canada, states:

“Many of the scholars of Islam, both ancient and modern, consider all forms of musical instruments except duff (tambourines) as forbidden; but, there are other scholars, who consider music and musical instruments as forbidden only if and when they are used for themes or messages that are declared as forbidden or undesirable. Based on the second view, as long as you stay clear off undesirable themes, and messages, then what you are doing can be considered as permissible. ***You must, however, remember that this permission is conditional on the fact that you are resorting to music as an occasional outlet only; for there is no doubt whatsoever that if your indulgence in music in any way interferes with your performance of your worship or other obligatory duties, then it shall be considered as strictly forbidden.*** [My viewpoint too, considering I play my guitar as an outlet, and hardly 30 mins a day. I don't have dancing, I don't sing-- it's just music]

So, use it only as an occasional outlet. The Prophet, peace be upon him, has permitted us to have occasional outlets in order to help us recuperate and refresh ourselves. Resorting to such occasional outlets may in fact be beneficial for our enhanced productivity/creativity. May Allah help us to maintain proper balance in our life, avoiding all forms of extremes, Amen.”

It has become clear from the above Fatwa that playing guitar, as a musical instrument, is not categorically Haram as long as the aforementioned guidelines are observed. Playing guitar as an occasional outlet does not run counter to Islamic teachings as long as one does not neglect religious observances.

http://www.islamonline.net/servlet/Satellite?pagename=IslamOnline-English-Ask_Scholar/FatwaE/FatwaE&cid=1119503545726

My Nephew!

Hey friends,

Here is my nephew. He was born on the 19th of August, 2005, in London, UK.



When their daughter was born two years ago, they were circling around names beginning with Z. They ended up naming her Adeen. I suggested to them Zain or Ziad for the baby boy, because these names are short and sweet. Any more cool ideas out there for a baby boy?

Mansur

I Am Free

Why do I feel like I am being held captive? Why do I feel like I am in bondage? I don’t know.

The alarm clock was ringing continuously. I could hear huge bells ringing in my head, as if there were a multitude of church bells right next to me. I lazily lifted my right arm to smash it down on the snooze button. When that didn’t work too well, I yanked the cord out of the socket. Angrily, I picked up the alarm clock and threw it down on the floor. Damn you alarm clock. My head weighs about a ton. I just cannot lift it up even the least bit. I try my hardest to even bring my head up, but it’s an impossible task. I can barely even open my eyes, let alone lift my head up. Lying down on bed with arms and leg spread open; I can feel myself sinking inside the bed. Bed, swallow me up please! Every second that passed by, I felt heavier and heavier.

The AC is on the coldest setting, yet I was sweating profusely in bed. My pillow has been stained with my sweat. I abruptly remove the comforter that was over me to one side. I want to cry. I don’t want to get up. I want the bed to swallow me up. With much effort, I finally manage to roll over to the edge of the bed, where I let my limp body fall to the sheepskin rug on the floor. Thud! I rub my eyes open till they come into focus.

The bathroom is only two steps away from my bed, but today I feel like its miles away. My mind was overwhelmed with the number of activities that had to happen. I skipped out on my shower and shaving. My arms felt too heavy to even shave. My brushing time lasted only seconds.

I slipped on my shorts and t-shirt, and drudged my way to the kitchen. I open the fridge door. Milk? Bread and Jam? Biscuits? Nothing. I don’t want anything. I was too consumed with other things on my mind. I don’t feel like having breakfast. I come back into my lounge, where I lay down on the sofa and curl myself up. Why am I so tired? Why do I feel so lethargic? Why do my feet and arm weigh a ton?

My cell phone rang with a loud shrill! Damn! Who the heck is that now? I didn’t answer it. The phone was at the other end of the room. I am tired. I take my eyeglasses off and crush them in my hand. Little shards of glasses prick my fingers, causing little bleeding. I pick up the glass that was on the side table from last night and throw it across the room. I hear the breaking of glass, just like my life has been broken into pieces. I grab the cord of the side table lamp and pulled the lamp off the table. The shade is damaged. I grab the scissors and start ripping my leather sofa apart. I am in rage.

Mustering up every little energy that is left in my muscles, I get up from the now ripped sofa and walk out my apartment door. The lift doesn’t show up on time. I hit hard at the buttons, without realizing I had broken it already. Walking down the stairs took me forever. With every footstep I put on the step, I felt like as if my foot was sinking in. It made lifting my leg all the more difficult.

I finally come out after what seems like hours. No one is here. The security guard is still probably sleeping. The sun is not out yet. I can barely see a flicker of ray in the horizon. I walk across the empty plot to the main road. I see the McDonalds across the street. But I was too drained away. I had no energy. I felt all the burdens of the world on my shoulders. I felt as if I was being pushed down deep into the earth, as if some invisible hands were pushing me down. I tried resisting the invisible hand to get back up, but I just couldn’t.

Thud! I feel something on my leg. Something like a thick piece of metal. Or is it rubber? I look down, and I see my leg bleeding profusely. I am not scared. I am happy. For the first time in days, I smile. Blood is gushing out from my calf muscles. I hear faint music. I look up and I see a car. It was driving away extremely fast. I felt myself all dizzy. The car seems to fade away from my sight. It went over the bridge across to the other side.

I felt heavier, and I fell down in the middle of the road. The streetlights have been turned off. Staring up at the sky, I see the swirling clouds move by. Am I moving or are the clouds moving? Peck! Peck! I know I cannot see, but I can sense a crow, maybe two, sitting on my leg. It was pecking away at my exposed leg. I bet it was attempting to eat away my meat.

The sky seems to swirl away. I was smiling all the more. This is what I wanted for all these days. I am ready. My vision is becoming blurry now. The sun is coming out, but my vision is getting darker and darker. There is more pecking on my leg. My hand, on my right side, can now feel the blood that has poured out of leg. My fingers are drenched in the pool of blood that has formed around my hand.

I turn my head to the right side to see.

I see bright lights. Is that the light at the end of the tunnel? I see two headlights as they near me. Suddenly, I hear loud screeching noise, accompanied with loud honking. I don’t know what happened next. All I know is that I was smiling. I am at peace now. I am free from the cruelties of this world.

I am free.

---Mansur

Testing Times...!

Hello friends,

How many of us have been into supermarkets, to see men and women open up cans after cans to test the deodorants or air fresherners? I don't know about you but I see them do it all the time, and it annoys me. Which is why I subconsciously pick up deodorants and air fresheners which are placed right at the back, hoping these mean customers haven't tested these already!

Why do people do this? They pick up the can, open the lid and spray it into mid air, and smell it. If they dont like it, they will place it back. If they do like it, they will put this used can back, and pick one up which is further back. They spray into the air, onto their arms, onto their clothes and sometimes even into the caps. Why? Why? Why?

Not only this, they will open up shampoo and conditioners and smell them, They open up boxes of gels as well. To smell it.

When I see someone do this, I stand and stare at them. They may look back at me, but I think it's a crime when you spray deodorants and air freshers into mid air, because the following customer will unsuspectingly pick up the used can. It's unfair for the innocent customers as it is for the supermarkets, who will find half used cans difficult to sell.

There should be a policy against testing new deodorants and air-freshners. That's why The Body Shop is clever and always put one tester out there. Those who do test new cans, they should be banned from coming to that supermarkets!

Mansur

Missed Calls!

Hi friends,

The single most annoying thing I find is when people give you a missed call, expecting you to call them back. The fool I was, I would initially return the calls, and that person would chat for hours on end!

Now, I don’t bother returning calls, unless I know it’s someone close to me. I mean, like, today I gave my futon mattress to the dry cleaners, and the guy told me he would call me and let me know how much he will charge me. So, 15 minutes later, I received a call and I answered it. He hung up the phone. He was doing the “missed call” thing. I haven’t called him back. I mean, like, come on, do they think they are the only ones who have to spend the bills on phones? I also have to pay for my phone calls. It’s not like when I will call you, that it’s a free call.

I don’t understand why people cannot make calls, instead of making missed calls. Since you spent money on your cell phone, make calls from it—not just missed calls.

Aaaaargh! I hate this missed call concept! I don’t give people missed calls. I figured, if someone really wants to talk to me, they call me, and not expect me to call them back after they make a missed call. And if its very important they can call me again after making the initial missed calls!

Mansur

Shaving...

Hi all,


I remember reading a study a while ago in Men’s Health, saying that men spend about so many number of years of their lives shaving their faces in front of the mirror (I dont remember the exact figures but it was a double digit, like research has also shown we sleep for a third of our lives!) I for one have always been annoyed with shaving my face.

I remember when I had turned thirteen when my dad helped me shaved for the first time. I had new hair spurting out from my jaw-line and my moustache. It was exciting; it was cool to remove that hair which made me look un-cool. I never realized this would eventually become a routine for me for the rest of my life. I moved on from using the single blade Gillette, to the double Gillette and eventually moved onto the Gillette Mach 3, the triple blades razor. It became a costly thing as well, buying the blades and the shaving cream or gel. One time I tried going back to Gillette 2, and it did not work as well as the 3 blades.

Last year, I was so fed up of standing in front of my bathroom mirror and shave. The hassle of doing it so became irritating. Wetting my face, rubbing the foam, and then shaving down-up, and up-down. My facial hair growth is slow so I shave every three days. I know of people who have to shave every single day. What a chore! So, last year, I went and bought the Philips Aqua Philishave, and that has been wonderful to me.

Today morning, I shaved before getting into the shower, and it gave me such a close shave, almost like the blades. I would usually shave after the shower because your skin pores supposedly opens up because of hot water, thus the removal of hair is easier. I don’t know about that, but today, I shaved before my shower and it was an extremely close shave.

Of course, the easiest thing for me to do is keep a beard, but then my hair growth is slow on my face and I would look like a wannabe mutawa!

Mansur

Movie :: Closer

Hi all,

I have probably seen the most intense, most reality based movie based on relationships. I have seen it before, but I watched it again last night because I think it speaks to me on different levels. The movie I am talking about is Closer.

It’s a very realistic and “real” movie based on emotions, feelings, truth and lying, and love and sex that can be found in relationships. Forget your usual rom-com movies; they are very stylized and over-romantic movies, stuff we know just doesn’t exist in real life. Rom-com movies are usually very fantasy-world based, where a few simple things happening to make the girl fall in love with the boy to the background music of some latest pop ballad. That’s not real life. Real life is what Closer is all about.

Dan (Jude Law) saves Alice (Portman) in a car accident and they are acquainted. They start dating and become involved in a relationship for months. Dan has written a book on Alice, and is having his headshots done by Anna (Roberts). Dan is immediately attracted to her, and during their photo sessions, he kisses and asks her to meet with her. Alice, who visits them there figures it all out but stays quiet about it. Dan, in a fit of denial about Anna rejecting his advances, talks to someone over the Internet chatroom and passes himself of as Anna. The unsuspecting person on the other side, Larry, falls for the prank and actually ends up at the aquarium, where he sees Anna the photographer. These two get acquainted and embark on a relationship and eventually marriage. However, Anna and Dan still have that spark from their brief fling earlier. The rest of the movie unfolds over the course of four years as these two sets of couples’ lives are entangled with one another, with various issues dealt with including deception, lying, honesty, sex and love.

What I loved about this movie was that it portrayed the emotions and feelings as I would imagine would occur in real life. It’s very raw and very true. There are only four people in this movie who have speaking lines, and so we are focused entirely on these four people. One of the underlying themes running is that of “being honest and lying.” One person lies to another, when the other person clearly knows he is being lied to. What should one do? Lie to save face and relationship, or be honest and hurt the other person? It’s a tricky situation, and sometimes we may think its easier to lie to save ourselves the embarrassment and all, but what if the truth is demanded? Would we say the truth at the cost of hurting the relationship?

Other issues I will not get into, but it was very clever movie on how men and women perceive relationships differently, and how those people getting into a relationship have to deal with everyday issues, and realize their newfound relationship is nothing like these teen rom-com movies would have you believe.

Mansur

Why I Was Not Able to Learn Arabic...

Hi friends,

Kayf- halik? Kayf Sehtek?

I went to Abracadabra, a kindergarten in Jeddah. I can still remember clearly some of my moments there, making drawings and running around the playground. I then went to Manarat Jeddah, which are a series of Arabic-medium schools all over the Kingdom. I went there for grade one and two. The school uniform was the thobe, the Saudi national dress. All my classes were in Arabic, except for English. Although my mother tongue is Urdu, I had learnt to speak Arabic at that school. I remember talking to others in Arabic, and knowing all the colors and fruits in Arabic. My time at Manarat Jeddah would be a time of mischief, as none of us liked wearing the thobe. We would always wear jeans and t-shirt under it, and as soon as it was time to go home, before we even got on the bus, the thobes would come off first. Even during break-time, all of us would be pulling our thobes knee high to allow us to run faster. Our days would end at the time of prayer, where all the boys would line up. Usually an Arab boy would be asked to call the prayer, the adhan. The naughtier kids would be at the back row, and somehow I would be included along with them. Every single day, as soon as the call to prayer would end, someone, just someone, would do something silly, and every one of us in a row would come tumbling down like dominoes. This was a daily routine, and we all would then get up, and rearrange ourselves in a line.

In our circle of friends, the parents had come to a consensus that the English being taught at Manarat Jeddah was not up to par, and so myself, along with our family friends were taken out and shifted to Jeddah Prep, which was a British school. Saudi students would not be allowed into expatriate schools, and so thus began a time for me where my interactions with the Saudis would fall really low. We learnt to speak English fluently; all our classes were in English, we read English books and perform stage plays in English. I went through grade 4, 5 and 6. Jeddah prep went up to grade 9 only, and so my elder brother who finished grade 9 shifted to Continental School, and so I also shifted along with him.

Continental school was another British school that went up to O’Levels. Again, Arabic was not taught here, my friends were mostly Pakistanis and there were very little interactions with the Saudis.

Which brings me to the question: having lived in Jeddah since 1978, why didn’t I pick up the Arabic language?

No doubt, this is a very embarrassing and a shameful question to me, and I am ashamed to say I haven’t learned Arabic where clearly I should have. But in my defense, here is why I think I did not learn Arabic.

1. I went to an English school since grade 4 all the way through grade 11. We did not learn Arabic in that school.
2. My circle of friends was all Pakistanis. So whatever gathering we went to over the weekend, it would be at a Pakistani’s house. So again, our interactions with the Saudis were very minimal.
3. When we would go to fast foods, even today, Filipinos would serve us. We would speak English with them. Other shops were not really run by Saudis, so our communications with them would be in English, or Urdu/ Hindi if the workers there were Pakistanis/ Indians.
4. Taxi drivers would be Asians.
5. I know basic Arabic, just well enough to get by in shops. “Kam Hada? La! Naam! Hamman fayn?” Basic words that barely got me going in the market place.
6. As expatriate families living in Jeddah, we were in compounds all the time, and in compounds would be other expatriates, so again, little interactions with the Saudis.

Having said that, I am not coming up with an excuse for not learning Arabic. My mom would teach in the adult center at Dar Al Hanan, and she would take my younger sister to school there. So my sister went to Dar Al Hanan in Jeddah, where she took all her classes in Arabic. She has three Saudi friends who are her best friends today. So, while my sister speaks excellent Arabic and like a Saudi, my brother and I unfortunately did not manage to pick it up.

I try to learn here and there. I would ask my Arabic friends in University to help me speak Arabic, and they would tell me they would rather learn English from me. Saudi Arabia is becoming westernized today, and English is being spoken very widely here. As the socio-cultural dynamics are changing, where large number of Saudis are learning English by the day, I sometimes find it difficult to really learn Arabic. The only hope I see is for me to join an Arabic learning class, but then, I would need a lot of time for that.

My parents know Arabic really well, because my dad has a lot of interactions due to his business, and my mom taught as an English teacher at an Arabic school. When I was working in Jeddah last year, I was able to pick up some Arabic, and was forced to talk to some people on-site who did not know English at all. Because I was forced to, I actually managed to pick up Arabic that way.

I know how to read Arabic perfectly well, because I have read the Quran thrice completely with the help of the Islamic teacher. But, we never learnt the meaning of the Quran, and so again, my Arabic was restricted to reading.

The best way however would be to live in an environment where people speak Arabic, and you make it a point to not speak in English. I am in Dubai today, and everyone is speaking either English or Hindi, because of a large Indian population. So, again, the environment is not conducive to me learning Arabic.

Wow, I feel like I have written an essay for one of my English class. I hope this answers your question Jawaher! Xena, you share the same sentiments?

Masalaama!

Mansur

One Year Old!

Hey friends,

So it is one year for me now. As I am typing this, I have about 3 more hours to go before I officially turn one year old. I thought I'd go down memory lane and come up with the ten most loved/ meaningful/ most provoked articles I have written.

Top Ten Articles:

10. The One With The First Musing
--- This was my first post ever on Life of Mansur. I had a certain theme to my blog, which I called Musing Mansur, because I thought it would be cute to have a rhyming name. I had also titled my posts with "The One With the..." after the Friends series, but scrapped this idea later.

09. The One With the Prayer for Pakistan
--- As I am a Pakistani, I hate to see my country in shambles, yet I still profess hope for it. This post was my desire to help other Pakistanis abroad to pray for the nation.

08. The One With the Stampede
--- I remember when Ikea opened up its new branch in Jeddah, and there was chaos, anarchy and several deaths all because people wanted the free SR500 vouchers which only the first 10 people could get. I went early in the morning as well, not expecting to see 1000s of people there already.
07. The One With the Saudi Elections
--- A milestone in Saudi politics, although the big news was that women were not allowed to vote. I questioned the logic of allowing male prisoners in jails to vote, while women were barred. I don't understand that yet even today.

06. The One With the Reunion
--- Aaah! Such a sweet moment for me. I finally met up with my friend after 11 years and spend 4 hours in Chilis reminiscing about our school days. My friend was married and so I got to meet with her husband as well.

05. Pakistani Identity Crisis
--- Again, being a Pakistani living abroad, sometimes it is difficult to identify who I am. I attempted to ask myself this question and come up with an answer. I think I was able to define what makes a person a Pakistani: it's your inner convictions and attitudes more than your outer appearance that defines who you are.

04. Why Do Bad Things Happen to Good People?
--- One question all of us have asked, or will ask, at one point of our lives: why do bad things happen to good people? I attempted to answer this question, and I know several people benefitted from this post.

03. Islam and Music
--- A very divisive and debatable issue: does Islam permit music? Many people brought in their viewpoints, and for a while it seemed like all of them were valid. Personally speaking it all boils down to your personal attitudes, and how easily you succumb to music. I listen to music, but I don't let it control me.

02. A Shattered Life
--- The most personal thing I have written in my blog. I was honored to write this for Rafee, and Rafee has assured me that it was a very meaningful thing because he was able to achieve closure of sorts having shared his story with you all.

01. Burj Al Arab
--- The most popular article by far. People commented on it, and several other bloggers provided links back to my blog, and got many people talking about it. Is the cross really there? Is it a conspiracy theory? Are we wasting time over this? There are still mixed feelings, and in my personal opinion, I believe that at the back of the architect's mind, he had an underlying design all along.

So there you go! One whole year. I have so many other posts that I wish I could include here, and by no means was choosing the top ten here was an easy task. Saudi Personalities; movie reviews; writing about Jawaher and Q8I; my hearing loss; and many others have been meaningful to me.

I have gone through probably all the templates that were available to me, and yet I am still looking for that perfect template! I have added extras on the side bars, and they have been changing from time to time.

Here are some cool facts:
(keep in mind, I started this site tracker in May, so these figures apply from the month of May 2005 onwards)

1. Summary of how many people have been visiting my blog. On average, 57 unique people visit daily.
2. The different countries from where my blog has been accessed. US, Saudi Arabia, UAE and UK top the list.

I know I have had my shares of moments where I want to close my blog down, and I apologize for the inconvenience that has caused to some people who ask me to not close it down. By the way, thanks to all those who voted on my poll...so nice to know more than half of you think there is absolutely nothing wrong with Life of Mansur. I thin credit also needs to be given to my readers for making Life of Mansur a success....so give yourselves a round of applause and a pat on the back!

One thing this blog has been doing to me is changing me as a person. As I interact with people from all different backgrounds and cultures, I learn new things almost on a daily basis. One major change in me has been of ridding myself of stereotypes and prejudices. :-)

All righty....happy birthday to Life of Mansur, and boy, am I ready for the next one year!

Mansur

Baby Boy!

HEY FRIENDS!!!!

I am an UNCLE all over again. My elder brother and his wife in London had their second baby: a son! They have a two year old daughter as well. Wow! My mom called me seven times on my cell phone and I was having lunch at the mall and did not hear the phone. I called her back panicking why she called me seven times, and then she told: you are an uncle today! I couldn’t contain my joy!!

I wish I could go to London and see the baby. I don’t enjoy seeing pictures. I was thankfully in London when Adeen, my niece, was born two years ago. It was such an awesome feeling to know I am an uncle. It was so cool to see the first baby being born in my immediate family. Now it’s a son for my brother. Another baby.

Moments like these make me want to marry and have kids of my own. (I know I know, I am often confused on issues about marriage: one day I want to marry, other days I want to be single and adopt kids!)

So, like, wow…..I am still registering the joy and happiness of the birth of a baby in my family. 19th August 2005 is my nephew's birthday, and three days later, 22nd August 19-- is my dad's birthday! How cool!

To my brother and his family, congratulations and may your lives be enriched with the new baby.

Mansur
PS Any cool names for a baby boy?

Crappy Paintings?

Hello friends,

Here are three paintings. Two of them are fake and one is genuine. What I want you to tell me is: Which painting is the real one?

I have written the artist and the title of the painting to help you make a better guess. The real painting is currently on sale for $130,000 in the US. Can anyone in their right mind pay $130,000 for a piece of crayon painting?

I know you will be tempted to do a quick research and find out the truth, but just for the sake of knowing how to spot a real work of art, make an attempt to guess.

Which one of these paintings below is worth your $130,000?
_____


1. Henri Matisse, "The Painist"
This painting is famous because of the depiction of the struggling relationship between man and instrument. An early thinker for his time, Matisse incorporated into this simple crayon drawing the notion of man and technology in a constant battle with one another, in an attempt to over-power. Note his bold strokes in the piano in contrast to the stick thin stroke used for man.

____

2. Pablo Picasso, "Atelier de Cannes"
Picasso is regarded one of the best artists of the 20th Century. His use of colorful crayon depicts his colorful life at his studio in Cannes, where he produced some of his masterpeices. This particular painting is one of the first instances of his self-portrait.

____

3. Miro, "Le Insanite"
The use of wild crayon strokes set Miro apart from his contemporaries. His vision of Insanity is depicted here as his own life was filled with complications and madness, which led to his ultimate suicide. This painting is very relevant for today's time as it correctly represents the insanity in people's lives. His use of frantic, jerky and abrupt crayon symbolizes how he felt at this particular time in his life.

Good luck...

Mansur

Marriage?

Hello all,

I am 28 years old, working and single. What’s so strange about that? Well, the single part. A lot of people today ask me the one most annoying question: “When will you marry?” This is followed with a slew of related questions: “What should the girl be like? Tall? Fair? Working?” and so on.

I am in an unfortunate position where I am not acquainted with a very large Pakistani group here in Dubai, as most of my friends, well all of them, are Lebanese, Iranians, Palestinians, Jordanians, Egyptians, and Americans among others. I love my circle of friends. The only drawback is that I cannot find any girl who I could consider for marriage.

There was one Iranian girl who I fell in love with, but did not share my feelings because it was premature at the time. For a year in university, as we would spend time together, in a group setting, I came to love and respect her a lot. We would never be alone at any given time, because I know that’s wrong. So, while she was an Iranian, and a Shia, my parents did not think it would be a viable situation because ‘what do you tell the kids?’ I may teach them to be Muslims the Sunni way, but then since kids spend more time with mothers, they may end up being Shias and self-flagellating during Muharram!

So that girl, although we are friends, is out of question for marriage. There were two other girls who I came to love and respect. One was in school, and is married now, and another was in high school, who got married and divorced because her husband turned out to be a bisexual. I wish I could have been there for her.

So, what are my options right now? I went online to places like Shaadi Online and Shaadi Dot Com (Shaadi= Wedding) but that was just for fun. My mom is looking for girls in Pakistan. She is my matchmaker and I will trust her decision because she knows what I want in my wife. Other relatives offer to pop in and suggest their ideal brides, and I am like, but you don’t even know what I want. At the end of the day, whoever the girl is, I will have the final say. Some people may think arranged marriages are crap and all, but I think it all depends on the situation. Sometimes arranged marriages work out better than love marriages and sometimes it’s the other way round.



Honestly speaking, I will tell you all, but you have to keep it to yourselves, I don’t feel like marrying. I want to stay single. I feel I can do so much more being single than in a marriage. I will be able to devote my time to serving other people and all. If I am married, I will be stuck in an institution where kids are expected and then working for your kids and all. I have no problems with that, I agree with marriage, but sometimes I think maybe marriage is not meant for everyone. I mean, we have monks and nuns who vow celibacy (let’s not talk about those who abused the kids) but am talking in general. What if I make my vow of celibacy to stay single my whole life? I can adopt kids and that will be my way of helping the orphans. I know some people may think I am a homosexual for not marrying and adopting a kid, and I will tell them to go mind your own crappy business, to broaden your minds and to think beyond what you see! I wish I could do that but pressure will be immense from my culture and family to get married.

On top of that, I have been through such difficult times of loneliness, I feel like I can live on my own. I am used to loneliness. Many people tell me I need the companionship, and when I will be 80, I will need someone to talk to and all. Sure, that’s true, but then when for almost 30 years of my life up till now, I have been a loner, why cannot I be like for that for the next 30 years? I don’t have a problem with loneliness because I have found a cure for it.

Islam encourages marriage, and doesn’t forces the Muslims to marry. I am encouraged to marry. I don’t have to. It will be nicer for everyone see me married, and have kids and all, but then, am I marrying for my own personal life or for the culture and people surrounding me?

Mansur

Movie :: The Rising: Ballad of Mangal Pandey

Hi friends,

Aamir Khan is one of the most versatile actors in Bollywood today. His last movies were Lagaan and Dil Chahta Hai, both were blockbusters, with the former even nominated for the Oscars for the best Foreign film category. He has displayed enough versatility with such ease that you forget you are watching Aamir on screen, and start to believe in the character he portrays, be it Bhuvan in Lagaan, Akaash in Dil Chahta Hai or even Raj in Qayamat Se Qayamat Tak. He is my favorite actor, and if there is any Indian film to watch, I make sure it is his.



One such film is The Rising: Ballad of Mangal Pandey. Coming out after four years after his last film, many people awaited with bated breath for The Rising. The expectations were sky-high and I was certainly expected to be blown away. So. What’s the verdict?

4 out of 5.
80%.
Above average.
B.

Synopsis:

The Rising is a historical film set in 1857, about Mangal Pandey who works as a sepoy (native soldier) in India under the Great British East India Company. The sepoys and the British army fought together against the Afghanistan warlords, and it’s at the end of that war where Mangal saves the life of Gordon, and they become very good friends.

The British East India Company has been ruling India for 100s of years, and we see that they also started the Opium trade in this region (something to think about before accusing the Afghanis for growing Opium!) The Company is basically a moneymaking machine, at the cost of the lives of the ‘black dogs’: the Indian sepoys.

An untouchable (outcast) in the village hears about the new gun cartridges covers being smothered with the fat of cow and pig. What’s the big deal? These cartridges need to be opened with the mouth, and that would mean the Hindus would have to taste cow meat, and the Muslims would have to taste pig meat, which would be offensive to faiths. The British army successfully covers it up for a short while. Captain Gordon assures them, albeit without his full knowledge, that the cartridges are free from such fat, and Mangal trusts him and bites into the cartridge. But then the Indian sepoys figure out the truth by seeing the factory where these cartridges are made and Mangal feels betrayed. Thus begins the revolt against the British. The Rising begins with a simple revolt against the British Army into a full fledged fight for freedom.

Other subplots that are shown here are merely issues that existed in India in 1857. We see an Indian woman breast-feeding the British women’s babies for money, and yet unable to breastfeed her own children. We see women being sold as prostitutes, and one such is sold to a woman who runs an upper class brothel for the British army. This particular prostitute, Heera, develops a love relationship with Mangal. We see the issue of burning brides, otherwise known as Sati, where a bride is burned alongside her husband who is dead. Captain Gordon saves this one particular bride Jwala and brings her home. These are issues shown to depict India as it was in 1857.

The movie takes a turn when Mangal tells Heera, the prostitute, that she and other women should leave him alone and go sell their bodies to the Britishers, not to the Indians. Heera tells him: “We may have sold our bodies, but you sepoys have sold your souls.” Mangal is hit hard, and soon after, he realizes that him and other sepoys are basically being used. Alongside the realization that he has been lied to, by his friend Gordon (who was not aware at the time of the reality), about the cartridges, Mangal and his friends decide to stand up for their freedom. Thus begins the uprising, and the eventual mutiny.

***Review:***

I. Downside:

A. The songs:

There are three songs in this movie, and all three slowed down the pace of the film. The “main vari vari” song clearly looked like a masala song to keep the viewers happy in a traditional Bollywood style. The holi song was used to depict the two forbidden love affairs. While they were meant to further the narrative, it actually slowed down. When the third song came, a lot of people got up from their seats to take a break. Even the title track was annoying to me. But having said that, credit has to be given to AR Rehman for creating music that actually sounded like as if it were in 1857. It’s a matter of taste and understanding that we are witnessing 1857 in India where music may not have been as technical as it is today.

B. The Comedic scenes

Since not much is known about Mangal Pandey, the comedy scenes in the movie seems to be forcefully added in between the more serious parts. While some comedic scenes are required to balance out the heaviness of the film otherwise, having a cross eyed man as a comedy stint didn’t cut it for me. They should have stuck to the more pleasant comedy between Mangal and Gordon that came more naturally, like the prank they play on one of the army officer.

C. Editing:

The movie needed some re-editing. Some parts slowed down the movie, and you wonder when the uprising will start. Half way through, people were literally glancing at their watches, wondering where the Rising was.

II. Upside

A. Technical

Technically, this film cannot get any better. So much detail has been paid to recreate the India of 1857. Gas lamps, the architecture, the costumes, and even the telly-graffe (telegraph) is talked about. My favorite scene of mine was when Mangal meets Heera on the balcony, and the gas lamp flickers, and you see that flickering effect on their faces. It added a great touch of realism in the movie. It was also very symbolic, as these two people were getting to know one another. As everything is not exposed in a flickering light, their emotions and feelings are not entirely exposed at the time.

B. Characters

Characters were developed really well, and while you questioned the shortness of the roles of the women in this movie, you have to understand women in Indian in 1857 were merely at the subjugation of the men- they were merely objects. The roles of the three women were very under-played: the breast-feeding woman, Heera and Jwala, the burning bride victim. Even the British woman who takes a liking to the Indian culture disappears half way through, when one expected for there to be a love story between her and Captain Gordon. Otherwise, generally each character did their job well, even the British actors.

C. Story

Like I said, not much is known about the true story of Mangal Pandey, but the story is an inspiring one. One of attaining freedom. The narrative is quite engrossing, and you completely forget that you are watching this movie in a theatre in 2005, and for the three hours of the movie, you are completely immersed in the world of India in 1857. The setting, people, clothing, lighting, every little detail made the difference. The way they have shown how all the Indians collaborate, get rid of their differences and unite as merely Indians is simply amazing. The gradual build up is very convincing and quite captivating. How all the different districts, and kings and queens are informed of the movement for freedom is awe-inspiring. This whole movement for freedom is the highlight of the movie. (It makes me wonder why the Muslims cannot unite, or even the Arab countries cannot unite. Because in unity, they all stand as one power, and that is enough to overthrow whoever is invading you. I think you can apply this story to any person struggling for freedom, be it the Palestinians or the Iraqis, it will appeal to those who are interested in attaining freedom from their invaders. On a larger scale, this movie could also be an analogy for how the Iraqi people feel with the US invading their country. I also think history has shown that an invasion can never be successful, and those who do it by butchering people are doing it at the cost of lives- like when Americans butchered the Red Indians.)

D. Acting

The movie did a tremendous job of depicting India in 1857. The characters all stood out, and you never saw these actors as actors, but as the characters they play on screen. Even the British actors did a good job of pronouncing the Hindi words well. Gordon did a great job, and I enjoyed watching him act.

I cannot say more about Aamir. He did a tremendous job of totally transforming himself into Mangal Pandey. The whole time I was watching Mangal Pandey perform and not Aamir, and I think that is a true success of acting.

Rani Mukherjee did what she had to do, but she played the part very convincingly. Some of her dialogues were hard-hitting, and they stand out.

Amisha Patel was a big let down, since all she had to do was act scared as the bride saved from the burning pyre.

Toby Stephens did a very good job; he displayed a sense of warmth and sympathy for the Indians, but is overpowered by the more powerful, racist colleagues. His dialogue delivery in Hindi was also convincing enough. He did an amazing acting of being able to get the right facial expressions when he spoke Hindi—he did not have a bland expression on his face at any given time.

III. On A Side Note:

Towards the end, we are shown old footage of what India was like, and how the actions of Mangal Pandey started a movement of freedom, carried on by Gandhi as well. It eventually led to the freedom of Indian from the British, 90 years after Mangal Pandey died. A part of India was created into Pakistan.

The narrator mentioned that this independence created the largest, bloodiest, mass displacement of people ever in history. Millions and millions of Muslims moved from India to Pakistan, and millions of Hindus moved from Pakistan to India. I have made attempts to ask my grandparents of what they went through what we call Partition. They don’t tell me much, as I can understand that it’s a very painful and disturbing memory for them.

The Real Mangal Pandey!

And it’s really amazing to think that a certain man named Mangal Pandey started this movement for independence. I think we Pakistanis and Indian have to take the time out this independence day to be thankful for all the people who sacrificed their lives so we could be independent, and live in the freedom that we live in today.

Mansur

Plane Crashes....

Hey friends,

First it was the Air India that slid off the runaway. The cause was something mechanical. All passengers were safe.

Then came the Air France airplane that skidded off the runway in Canada amidst bad weather. All passengers and crew are safe and evacuate the plane in mere two mintes while it was burning.

Next came the Helios Airline that flew off from Cyrus and crashed into the Greek mountains. All passengers and crew were dead. Cause: loss of cabin pressure that cause pilot and others to suffocate mid air.

Finally comes the air crash in Venezuela, where all 161 passengers, mostly French who died.

All this within a span of few weeks.

Is something wrong with the airplanes now? Are these jets coming to an expiry date? Are they not maintained well enough? Are the parts becoming old and rusty? How can I determine that the next plane I fly on will be free from defects?

One time I was flying Emirates Airlines from Dubai to Jeddah, and 25 minutes into flying time, the stewardesses started running up and down the cabin, snatching away dinner tray right under our knives and forks, while the captain was making announcements after announcements. I thought I was going to die. The plane made a huge 180 degrees turn and we flew back to Dubai with one engine only. Inside the other engine, a flock of birds flew right into it rendering it damaged!

My greatest fear when flying is: how the heck can such a huge piece of metal, weighing tonnes, lift of the ground? I used to get paranoid when I would see passengers bring in luggage after luggage, when they all know 20kgs, or 30kgs, is the max in economy. Why do passengers do this? I get irritated when I am in line, and the passenger in front of me starts a row about how his luggage should be checked in because it is only few kilos over. The poor guy behind the counter tries to do his job, but some passangers can be just plain rude. Man, if you have over weight luggage, go pay for the excess instead of getting it on board for free. Why can't people just bring the weight they are allocated? I used to think: goodness, the more over-weight the luggage is allowed through, the heavier the plane will get, and the plane will not be able to take off with so much weight inside it!

Four plane incidents within a span of weeks. Is it a message or just a coincidence?

Mansur

Grandfather

Hi all,

I called my grandparents up tonight. It has been a while since I last talked to them. My grandmother picked up the phone and she was ecstatic to hear my voice. I talked to her, asked her about her health and all. I asked to speak with my grandfather, who has been somewhat bed-ridden as he is really sick. When I heard his voice on the phone, I became really emotional. His voice had changed so much from the last time I spoke to him. He was barely audible and his speech was slurring at times.

He was no doubt very happy to hear from me, and started reminiscing about how much he enjoyed spending time with me more then 8 years ago, and started praising me. I felt so attached to him, and I wanted to drop everything I was doing, catch the next flight to Pakistan and be there with him.

No matter what, at the end of the day, he is my grandfather, and I have spent three years with him in the same house while I was in high school. Those three years had its share of good and bad says, and there have been cases where my relationship with my grandfather was tense and upsetting. But, in my heart, he was always the grandfather I’ve come to love and respect the more I spent time with him. Under his tough exterior, he had a warm, loving nature. I remember as I was leaving Pakistan after high school graduation, I wrote a two-page thank you letter to my grandparents for being my guardians, and my grandfather wept over my letter. That was the first I had heard of him weeping. He would never weep otherwise, not even at his younger brother’s funeral. He always had this tough, strict exterior. But, someone just needed to tell him that he is loved. And I did just that.

What I loved most about my grandfather was his intellectual state of mind. Whenever I would visiting him in Pakistan, he would ask me or anyone else for that matter, general knowledge questions. These topics could range from the littlest of things to the biggest. His questions would be wide and varied, and as kids we would be ashamed if we didn’t know the answers. Since his eyesight is weak, us kids would look to each other for answers, and then pretend that we knew it all along. He never did that to test us or to grill us, but he would do this to impart knowledge.

Simple questions like: what’s the distance between the sun and the earth or when did the World War II ended would leave me stumped, and he would know the exact figures and dates. Timbuktu is the capital of what country? Um, I know its some country in the Himalayan region, is it Nepal? No. Mongolia? No. Tibet? No. I give up, where is it? It’s in Mali, in Africa! I was so ashamed to not know that one of the most famous capital in the world is in Mali!

Today, as he is bed ridden, with very weak eyesight and a slurry speech, I pray for him and his health. I am in sitting in Dubai and he is in his bed in Pakistan. I wish I could be there to keep his spirits up. All I know I can do is continue to pray for his health and his life.

Mansur

Life of Mansur is....

Hi friends,

So I am back again…not even a day passes by when I feel like blogging again. To those of you who said I was going through a mere phase, I salute you for being right about it. When I first thought I would end this blog, I was so confident about it, but over the last one year, I came to realize how much of an identity this blog of mine has been to me. It’s become indoctrinated in me. It’s become my friend, like my journals always has been. Keep a blog is a bit of a challenge because you know other people are peeking into the private world of yours. You wonder how much you should share.

Getting comments also intrigued me. I valued the worth of my articles based on the number of comments. If I had no comments, it was an ego breaker for me, and when I received comments, it was an ego-booster for me. But, again over time, I’ve come to realize that my articles are written because I want to write them. They should not be valued according to the number of comments I have.

I will continue to maintain this blog. I already have my vision set on printing out my articles here, with comments, and publishing it in a book format for my kids, my great grand kids and their kids to read what life of mansur was all about!

My readers, thanks for keeping your interest here. I know sometimes I bored you endlessly, and sometimes I get your fingers typing for comments (with the Burj Al Arab for example). I think over all, I have managed to keep it quite entertaining (remember foot fetish?)

Take care you all, and guess what, Life of Mansur is back! (When did I ever leave? LOL!)

Mansur

Epilogue FINAL WORDS

Afterword

It has been very overwhelming and surreal for me to write this short story, with many tears wept as I walked along with Rafee on his journey. I did have to omit some of the more detailed aspects of the story simply because it is horrible and sickening to be posted here. I wanted to mainly focus on what Rafee went through in his life in Jeddah, how he suffered at the hands of his perpetrators and how he eventually took a huge step to deal with his problems.

This story was not meant to make the viewers sad or depressed, but to actually inform them about this hidden disease. Also, it is important to remember that Rafee’s story is a successful one, so kids like Rafee do have hope in their lives. It is not the end of world for such victims. If the right help is given, abused kids can make a comeback. I wanted to share Rafee’s journey with you all to let you know that sexual abuse is a problem that needs to be tackled in the Kingdom. I hope and pray that the right authorities will open their eyes, acknowledge the problem before it grabs more innocent kids and snatches away their childhood from them. If Rafee were in the UK or the US, he would have sought help from their social workers, or hospitals, or join a network of abused victims. Unfortunately, he was not able to do that here in Jeddah. He was certainly caught in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Some of us may be skeptical and in denial that sexual abuse is a widespread problem in the Kingdom. Some of us may even be in doubt about Rafee’s story. That's all right. Hibbalicious mentioned in one of the comments that Rafee is lucky his parents believed him, as some parents would not be willing believe. These kinds of stories are often met with skepticism and doubt. It is after a while that a story is repeated enough times, each time as accurately as it can be that people will start to believe it. We would want in our hearts to believe that this is a minor problem and only a few odd cases happen here and there. That is a very natural reaction. No one wants to see such a thing in his or her country. Even I don't want to see it here. However, the truth is that sexual abuse takes place in every community, every society, every nation, and every continent. It would be naïve of us to assume it doesn’t exist in the Kingdom. Sexual abuse knows no boundaries. The numbers may seem small here than they do in the US, and that's because most cases are not reported here, which is why there are no accurate figures.

Just a small thought: If in the 80s, kids like Rafee were being abused, what chances are there today in2005 that the number of abuses has raised?

Having said that, positive things have been happening in the Kingdom. I was glad to read about a conference that was held in Jeddah in 2004, whereby doctors and social workers discussed about sexual abuse in the Kingdom. These brave individuals were acknowledging a problem existed and sought to rectify it.
> Rafee shared with me his sessions with the counselor, who had revealed to Rafee that she handles roughly 100 such cases each week.
> A recent study conducted reported that 23% of children are abused in the Kingdom, of which less that 5% are Saudis. It is sad that majority of the cases go unreported.
> Another small article was written back in 2000 highlighting the situation.
> A report from Khamis Mushayt, detailing three case studies of sexual abuse in the Kingdom.

I cannot bear to think the suffering and tensions such kids will have to endure by staying silent. No victim of abuse will be able to successfully repress his/ her trauma, and it will comeback to the surface one-day. Hopefully it will not be too late then.

Some people have emailed asking me if I am willing to listen to their story. A friend confessed to me she was abused in Jeddah. Another friend has told me he went through the same periods of abuse with his driver. Yet a third friend wrote to me telling me he wants to share something personal, confidential and disturbing which he hasn’t done so yet. I am glad these people have made it known to me, because I want them to know that they are not alone in their suffering and that my view of them doesn’t change just because they went through the same thing. If anything, I want to inform others about this disease, and toward the people about the Abduls and Mr. Khalids roaming out there, preying on children.

If there is one thing we all can take out from this story, it is to acknowledge that sexual abuse (and I'm not even getting into verbal, psychological, emotional, physical abuse) does exist in this country, and something needs to be done about it. Also, to know that kids like Rafee can be healed and it is not the end of their world. If you know someone, please help him or her before it's too late.

Please be more cautious as you leave your children alone with your maids and drivers. Please keep a watch out for situations, which could develop into potentially dangerous ones. Please keep your eyes on your children in public places. Please keep an open channel of communication between yourself and your children. Please be supportive. Please believe their story, just as I believed in Rafee’s story.

Rafee wants to thank you all for reading his story. I want to thank you, my readers, for reading the story, leaving comments and to those who have opened up to me, thank you.

Today, as I write this, Rafee is doing miles better.

A Shattered Life his life may be, but he is picking up the pieces as he walks along the path to healing and recovery, while shedding away his former self, to blossom into a new Rafee.

With much love, Mansur

Chapter TWENTY-ONE

Chapter 21: Faith, Hope and Love

While I have not gone through what Rafee went through, I still feel so much for him. He is a friend to me, and we shared so much in our lives. When he began toshare his story with me, I walked with him everysingle step of his harrowing journey. It hurt me as much as it hurt him. As I retraced his steps with him,I felt all his pain, anguish, weeping, sadness and sheer depression. I was seeing a life being destroyedright in front of my eyes.

When I was in Jeddah last year in 2004, a family friend shared with my mom about how her daughter wasfondled under the table by the Islamic preacher, as she would recite the Quran. Another friend shared his story with me as his driver abused him within the fourwalls of his home (all the more reason to allow womento drive for themselves so kids don’t have to dependon drivers!) Another friend shared how she was abused when she was seven in Jeddah. I just could not believe my ears as I heard their stories. There were similar patterns to Rafee’s story. Their incidents happened over-time, and within the four walls of their house. They were threatened too. They stayed quiet because itwas a shameful thing to talk about. It became too latewhen their past caught up with them, they were forced to share their stories with someone.

Today, I feel for the kids who are orphans or go through a difficult time in their lives with certain handicaps. I have a special place in my heart for kids who suffer from hearing loss. Although I am an architect now, I know for sure when the right time comes, I will be dedicating my time to such kind of kids. I know I will end up working in an orphanage, or a center for abused children. Life to me is not about money, possessions or wealth. It is about serving others. I know I will receive a lot of flak and nastycomments for this, but it’s my life, and I will dowith it what I feel has been placed on my heart byGod.

Rafee’s story is a personal story for me and I don’twant kids like him to go through such times of abuse. I know I may not be able to save all the kids out there, but I know I can make a difference to the kidsI come in contact with. I made a difference in Rafee’s life, and I know I can make a difference in otherpeople’s lives.

All Rafee needed in his life were Faith, Hope and Loveto heal, and if he can heal, so can the others.

Chapter TWENTY

Chapter 20: Rafee Today

At times I could relate to Rafee because at times I have gone through verbal abuse, and I know what it feels like when other people call you names and make fun of you. You feel used. You feel like a piece of filth. As a 10 year old you don’t understand all that, but once you grow up, you realize that the comments the other kids made were immature and wrong. I know how mean it is for other kids to call names and make fun of you. I wish I had the power to take away the mean so the other kids don’t go through such kind of abuse. These few kids who are hell bent on making life miserable for others exists even in high schools. Bullying, name-calling, making fun are part of almost every school, although it varies from school to school. I remember in 11th grade when a bunch of guys wanted to harass a Chinese girl in my class. They had been calling her names and throwing spit balls at her in class all the times. I did not like what they were doing, and instead of telling them to stop I did something else. I became best friends with that Chinese girl, and once I did that, the harassment stopped. I received a lot of flak from the other kids, but I didn’t care.

I am sure you all are thinking: so where is Rafee today?

He is at that point of his life where he picking up the pieces of his shattered life. As he looks back on his life, he sees how much he has gone through. Right from his first experience at the age of ten, the fears, through to Mr. Khalid, to his eventual downfall, right to his panic attacks and near-hallucinations to his eventual recovery. He is making huge progress in his healing process. Rafee is thankful that he has been privileged enough to seek help, medication, counseling and all. He often thinks about the poorer kids in the poorer countries, who are forced into sex, traumatized, child soldiers, child prostitution, children being sold for money and so on, and realizes how good God has been to him to help him heal. When he thinks of such children, he realizes that his problem, although a big one, is something that he can handle. It’s not the end of the world for him.

One particular dream Rafee would have repeatedly is where he would be in his house, and Abdul and Mr. Khalid would be attempting to break into the house. They would break the windows at time, other time they would break in through the main door. They would try to come in through the kitchen door, through the roof, through any other ways possible. When they would finally enter the house, Rafee would be running around in the house, with these men after him. Rafee would try to install locks on windows and doors, but they would still break these locks.

As he worked through his sessions, and began to heal, Rafee shared with me one of his last dreams. In this one, Rafee was very successful in keeping Abdul and Mr. Khalid at bay. They were not able to enter his house. After banging on the main door and trying to break the window like ravaged madmen, these men would eventually leave. Rafee took great comfort in this dream because it signified to him that these men don’t control his life any longer. He is free from bondage.

When I asked Rafee if he has any regrets in his life, or whether he wishes he could go back into the past and change something. He said that he has no regrets, and if there were something he could change, it would of course be that Abdul had not laid his hands on him. Somehow, Rafee thinks all things happen for a reason, and in a weird way, he is glad that he went through this crap as it made him a stronger-willed, mature and wiser person today. His past events have shaped him into the person he is today. He learnt how to take all the bad things and change it for the good.

What would Rafee do today if he met Abdul or Mr. Khalid today? Would he hit them? Kill them? No. He would tell them that he has forgiven them, and that he harbors no ill feelings towards them. That’s what Rafee would do.

Rafee also recognized that having faith in God, and having Hope in life is what ultimately led him on his path to healing and recovery. He carries his booklet with him everywhere. The unconditional and un-biased love from his parents also helped him tremendously. However, his strongest support in life comes from that vision of the man who told him, “don’t be afraid.”

Chapter NINETEEN

Chapter 19: Repercussions

While Rafee was debating hard whether his story should be heard by others not, he came to realize that if he didn’t, he would have to bear the serious repercussions. His abuse has affected his whole life, taking control of his thoughts and his life. So, in order to start fighting the battle, Rafee had to let it out of his mind, and he did just that with me, his parents and eventually to the counselor, and now to you all.

Already, he comes from a culture that does not talk about such things. Even his parents today don’t want him to discuss with anyone about it. When a woman is raped, she is looked at differently. When a woman is divorced, she is treated differently. When a guy is raped and abused, people “will” look at him as if something were wrong with him. Generally speaking people think of a victim of abuse as a “lesser” human being. It’s the judgmental attitudes of people and this attitude needs to be changed into an attitude of acceptance and tolerance.

If he hadn’t talked it out with anyone, Rafee would have continued living his life convinced that everything was his fault. That would have meant continuous shame, guilt and fear, for no fault of his own. Rafee would have been unfairly blaming himself for something he did not do. His health could no doubt have suffered for the worse with such feelings. Maybe more serious issues like severe depression or suicidal thoughts could have made him take his life.

The idea of marriage would have been another hurdle to cross. Should he tell anything about his abuse to his wife before marriage? Or after? Would it be unfair for the wife to know later and not sooner? Would he be able to have kids? Will he be in a stable, loving relationship? Will he able to communicate successfully with his wife? Will he able to successfully develop a relationship?

If Rafee has kids of his own, will he be able to deal with that? How will he behave with his kids? Rafee has hinted to me several times he doesn’t want kids, because the world is cruel enough. He thinks about adoption as that will be his way of helping the unfortunate children. So, as you can see, his abuse has affected his whole way of thinking and living a life based on lies.

One of the more commonly heard theories is that those kids who are abused often end up abusing other kids when they grow up, especially male kids. Numerous studies have been conducted which have shown that the perpetrators themselves grew up in an abusive home. While this theory is quite common, it doesn’t always hold true. Almost in all cases, the perpetrators have been male, while the victims are mostly females.

There could be so many reasons why perpetrators would abuse a kid. Some of these include:

1. The perpetrators themselves were abused when they were young
2. The perpetrators have a dominant personality- want to overpower the young through sexual acts
3. The perpetrators may have rage/ pain inside them which they don’t know how to express
4. The perpetrators may have been deprived of any love/ affection while growing up and seek to fulfill that in having sex with kids
5. The perpetrators could be frustrated sexually
6. The perpetrators could be homosexual/ bisexual seeking sex by forcing kids

So while there are many reasons for why sexual abuse takes place, does it always mean that the abused kid would grow up to do the same? I don’t believe that will be the case with every kid. Unfortunately, those kids who don’t seek help, will in effect turn to do the same thing to kids when they grow up because their mind has been conditioned to do so and they don’t know how to deal with their inner turmoil.

Rafee’s first sexual encounters unfortunately happened with a man. In his puberty years, as he grew and developed his body, he had confused feelings. His mind had associated sex with men as a feeling of pleasure. He got into masturbation because he saw Abdul do it. He would masturbate over pictures of athletic men because his mind associated pleasure with Mr. Khalid, the gym trainer with an athletic body. If none of this had happened, Rafee’s thinking and actions would have been completely different.

Some people can further elaborate that male kids who are abused can turn out to be homosexuals. This again is wrong. It would be wrong to say that just because Rafee’s first sexual encounters happened with men, that he is gay. If a male abused a male kid, that doesn’t mean he is gay. A person becomes a gay when he makes a declaration, a choice, that he wants to be gay. Rafee was asked by his counselor as a take-home question: if you saw two bedrooms, one with a man on bed, another with a woman on bed, which one would you choose to go to? Rafee thought hard about it, and the next session, he answered: the one with the woman. So that showed that while Rafee had feelings or attraction for the same sex, it’s because he’s been conditioned that way while growing up.

Deep inside Rafee, there was something in him that made him want to fix himself. He always knew this was wrong, but was captivated by these men into staying silent. Rafee knew it was wrong but he chose to hit back at Abdul, and also to end his meetings with Mr. Khalid. So, in his subconscious mind, he knew very well that what was happening was wrong. It’s amazing how God has put in all of us this sense of conscience, this sense of right and wrong.

Rafee needs to go a long way now. As it is, he is handling and battling his battles one at a time. Right now, his battles have just been half won.

Chapter EIGHTEEN

Chapter 18: Sexual Abuse

Gulf News Tabloid covered Child Abuse as their cover story on Sunday July 31 2005. It could not have been a timelier article as it addresses the concerns of the society here in the UAE. It is basically an interview with a counselor who has worked with such cases for more than 10 years in Dubai. I will summarize the main ideas from that article.

So what defines sexual abuse? Sexual abuse is an international crime that occurs when an adult or adolescent uses a child for sexual purposes. This involves exposing a child to any sexual activities or behavior and most often involves fondling and may include inviting a child to touch or be touched sexually.

Unfortunately, in Asian societies people tend to avoid uncomfortable issues and so not all cases are reported, which is why statistics are not entirely accurate. However World Health Organization reports that one out of ten children are being abused at any given time. That is a scary statistic. The figure could be higher if all cases were reported. The highest number of incidents takes place within the four walls of a supposedly secure home.

Which leads us to the fact that because cases go unreported, it is difficult to identify potential perpetrators. It could be someone in the family or a complete stranger, but because children find it difficult to talk about it, the abusers are free from any danger. Most adults and children are reluctant to report such a crime, and it is this silence, which allows for more abuses to take place.

There are some signs to see in a child should he or she be an abuse victim. Depression, anxiety, poor performance in school, withdrawn and afflicting self-injuries are just some signs. Usually there is guilt and shame involved stemming from the victim’s mind that he or she might have invited attention unto themselves, leading them into self-shame and pity.

The parents need to keep their channels very open towards the children. They need to maintain a very loving and caring attitude, and keep open communications, so should the kid want to talk about anything else, the kid will not be hesitant.

However, the worst case is when a child is abused by a family member, as that is the ultimate betrayal and trust of a loved one and could scar the child for the rest of his/ her life. However, the family support system is the greatest thing a child would need should the child choose to share his/ her story. It becomes important for the family members to believe in the story of the abuse and to not brush it off lightly. A child can recover from abuse, and can lead a successful life, should the child be given the support from his family.

Last year in Jeddah, for the first time a conference was held at the hospital regarding cases of sexual abuses in children in Saudi Arabia. Obviously the figures were very little, and that was because majority of the cases go unreported, which is understandable. People don’t want their families’ name and honor tarnished with sexual abuse. Many kids don’t talk about it out of fear, shame and guilt. If only these kids had information to help them understand that they are not guilty and that help is available. This conference was the first one, and hopefully as more awareness is spread, more kids can seek help in private.

Rafee unfortunately chose to keep his secret to himself for 15 years. The past had to catch up with him, and when it did, it grabbed him by his throat and made his life miserable. He was glad to have told his parents, as that was his greatest relief. He still tells me that when he told me his story for the first time, he just felt so relaxed in his mind and heart.

At the end of the day, the evil cannot be obliterated overnight, but it can be prevented and information is the best ammunition for arresting this social menace that transcends cultures, nationalities, genders and ages.

Chpater SEVENTEEN

Chapter 17: The Vision

As Rafee embarked on his path to recovery, he was still being challenged by his old way of thinking. He would still be crushed by his painful past. Although his disclosure to his parents was a huge relief, he still felt troubled. He carried that small booklet with him, and would read it every time he felt discouraged or depressed. One particular phrase stuck in his mind, and he started to believe in it. He would read it over and over till he felt comfort and peace in his heart.

“For I know the plans I have for you, says the LORD, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.”

One particular night, Rafee had another terrible nightmare. Thankfully he always woke up before Abdul or Mr. Khalid could abuse him in his dream. He just lay down there on his bed, in complete silence, not knowing what to do. He took out his personal organizer, and pulled out the small booklet, and started to read it. He convinced himself that God did indeed have a plan for his life, a plan to prosper, and to give him a future and a hope. He repeated this thought in his mind again and again till he dozed off.

Suddenly, Rafee felt a tapping on his shoulder. He opened his eyes just wide enough to see that it was not morning yet. Oh no, why did I have to wake up again, he thought. Again, there was a tapping on his right shoulder. Rafee became scared. Is it Abdul and Mr. Khalid? His heart began to beat fast. I am dreaming, he told himself. Rafee opened his eyes, and turned around to see who it was tapping on his shoulder.

He saw a strong, firm hand on his shoulder, holding it in a firm grip. His eyes went from the man’s hand, up his arm, shoulder and eventually to his face. Rafee’s eyes were fixed on this man standing in his room. The room had suddenly become very bright. The man was wearing an off-white robe, full-sleeved. He could clearly tell it was made of sheep-skin (a shepherd maybe?). He held a staff in his other hand. Rafee aimed to look closer at this man’s face. He had shoulder-length, dark brown hair. They were wet, as if this man had just taken a shower. Rafee could also smell a strong aroma, a strong incense of flowers emanating from this man. No matter how hard Rafee tried, he just could not see the face very clearly. Then, he heard something.

“Don’t be afraid,” the man said. His voice was gentle yet firm. He spoke with a sense of authoritativeness. Rafee heard those words very clearly.

Rafee quickly shook his head, and the man disappeared. Rafee could still feel the sensation of the man’s touch on his right shoulder. He could still smell the sweet aroma. He jumped out of bed. There was no one in his room. He sat back on his bed, and wondered who the man was. He picked up the book next to him, and read the passage again, ““For I know the plans I have for you, says the LORD, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.”

For the first time in his life, Rafee was able to sleep for the longest of time, peacefully.

Chapter SIXTEEN

Chapter 16: Forgiveness

One of the things Rafee had to do to move on with his life was to forgive his abusers. That was something I had a difficult time understanding. How could Rafee so easily forgive the people who damaged his life? How could he simply let them go so easily? It’s like letting go of a murderer who just killed your best friend.

Rafee explained to me that he needed to forgive them. He needed to forgive them because otherwise he would continue to harbor anger and resentment for his whole life, making him feel miserable. He had to forgive them because he would then be able to break the chains that connected him to them. In order to move on with his life, to avoid such feelings of resentment, he had to let go of his ill feelings towards his abusers. And to do that, he forgave them.

Initially I was in shock at his reaction, but as he explained to me in details, I began to understand his motives and reason for doing such a thing. I don’t know if I would be strong enough to do this. Rafee certainly was. I mean, imagine forgiving someone who has abused you? We don’t forgive people who torture us, do we?

Rafee showed me that small booklet which he carries till this day, and he said that the woman in the book had to forgive her father who had abused her, in order for her to heal. He showed me a passage in the book, which talked about “loving and forgiving your enemies,” which the woman used to her advantage. That’s a radical teaching, and honestly, when Rafee forgave his perpetrators and began to see them as people with disturbed behavioral patterns, Rafee was able to move on with his life.

Rafee was confronted with mixed issues within Islam. There was little or no information of what Islam had to say about sexual abuse. Usually it is brushed over. Rafee had faith in God, but he needed answers. He felt cheated by God. Why didn’t God intervene and protect 10 year-old Rafee from being abused? Why wasn’t there any peace in his life? Why didn’t Rafee hear anything from God, as he would seek help from God in Mecca? Why didn’t Rafee find peace in his heart as he fasted during Ramadan? Why didn’t Rafee get any answers from God when he would weep during his night prayers?

At the most, whatever little information he found on sexual abuses from an Islamic perspective was of a condemning nature, and he remembered how the teacher gave that kid a long lecture at the Islamic school. He even sent questions to the religious section in the local newspaper couple of time, with no word back from them. Why deny such a thing? Is it too shameful to publish such an issue? Rafee was forced to seek help elsewhere.

He found peace in that small booklet, in particular to one verse that said, “For I know the plans I have for you, says the LORD, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.” And that is what Rafee began to develop: Hope. Hope to successfully heal himself. Hope to help others who don’t have hope. Hope to make a difference in lives of abuse victims. Hope to move on. Hope to heal. Hope to live.

Chapter FIFTEEN

Chapter 15: Counseling

Over the next year and a half, Rafee went through four different counselors, but his favorite was a Saudi female psychotherapist in Jeddah. The first session with her went so amazingly well that Rafee was actually feeling better about himself. If only there were such options available to him earlier.

While I won’t go into the what happened in the sessions, I will give you a brief idea of some of the things talked about that helped Rafee deal with his situation.

---> The key thing Rafee had to realize was that he was a 10-year-old boy, who had no knowledge about right and wrong. So it was wrong of Rafee to blame himself for his being abused. Rafee had to see his life story as an outsider, and once he started doing that, the blame began to shift away from Rafee to the perpetrators. Rafee had to tell his story over and over again, but he had to detach himself emotionally from the 10-year-old boy. This way, he was able to see his story from a different angle and understand it better.

---> As much hurtful as it was, Rafee had to absolutetly try to remember as much as he could, and share it with his psycho-therapist, because he needed to bring everything that bugged him out on the table. This way, he could tackel every little issue, deal with it, and then package that issue in a box and seal it. If he only dealt with issues partially, they would have re-surfaced at a later time.

--->The key emotions Rafee had at the beginning was: Guilt, Fear, Pleasure and Anger. These emotions were inter-connected with one another. He honestly felt pleasure of sorts, which led him to feel extremely guilty because he thinks he took part in the act consensually. Because he felt guilty, he felt anger, and fear. At the beginning, he gave a level of percentage to each of these four emotions. Guilt: 90%; Fear: 90%; Pleasure: 80%, Anger: 30%. As he worked through his issues, he began seeing things from a different perspective. His level of guilt towards himself decreased, as well as his fear and pleasure. His level of anger towards the perpetrators rose, as understood that he was a victim. His emotions were initially directed towards himself, but later, through a transformation of his mind, these emotions were re-directed towards his perpetrators.

However, the most revealing thing Rafee learned from his counselor was that there were loads of other cases here in Jeddah of young boys and girls being abused in all forms, sexually, physical, emotional and mental. I won’t give out the figures, but Rafee told me that there are high cases of sexual abuses in the city, according to the psychotherapist, who said almost all of her cases are regarding abuses in all forms. She saw about 70 such cases per week, and almost all of them were kids who were abused, and now dealing with their past as adults. When Rafee told this to me, I knew the problem definitely existed on a larger scale. It certainly wasn’t a small-scale problem. It’s bad enough the country doesn’t have any outlet for abused kids. Rafee himself made friends with another Saudi, a teenager, who was suffering from the same ordeal. They met in the waiting room at the hospital.

As much as I wanted to deny this, I began wondering why such a thing would happen here. Sexual abuse is a worldwide problem and is not something restricted to the Western world or to the Middle East. It is a universal issue, and most often, the victims suppress their ordeal. Rafee would share with me his sessions with the counselor, and it was simply amazing to see his transformation of his mind and will. If I had more time and space here, I would have gone into the some of the more revealing facts about typical cases in Jeddah.

One day, he came in and told me something.

"Mansur, I took a major step today."

"What is it?" I asked.

"I have forgiven Abdul and Mr. Khalid in my heart. I know they did something horrible, but I have forgiven them in my heart."

"So like, wow....I can't believe you just said that." I said.

"Well, honestly, if I were to see them face to face today, instead of trying to kill them, I would tell them that I forgive them. I am sure they had some issues in their lives. I am sure something must have happened to them to behave this way. Of course, that doesn't justify their actions, but yeah, I have forgiven them....."

My jaw could not have dropped any lower.

Chapter FOURTEEN

Chapter 14: Parents

2003 Summer, Jeddah.

Rafee finally gathered his courage to tell his parents one day. He flew into Jeddah from the UK for his summer break. He met his mom and dad at the airport. He was torn whether he should tell them now or the next summer break. The ride home was awkward, and his mom asked him what the matter was. Rafee lied and told them that nothing was the matter.

Rafee was in turmoil. He did not know if he should tell now or not. He battled with his previous thoughts of shame and fear. What if my parents don’t like me? What if I am rejected? What if they blame me? Rafee was so distracted he did not even realize they got home.

Entering the living room, his mom finally asked him what the matter was. Mothers always have the instinct to know when things are not right with their children.

Before anything, Rafee just sat in silence. He then spoke up as his parents were wondering with anxiety. He asked them if they remembered the house they shifted to which had the swimming pool. His mom nodded. He then told them directly: I was sexually abused in that house.

What followed were a roller coaster of emotions and feelings as Rafee poured out his story to his mom and dad. His dad however could not bear to listen to the whole thing and left mid way. Rafee noticed that, and as much as he wanted for his dad to listen to his story, he understood that his dad doesn't know how to deal with such a situation. His mom heard the whole thing and was confronted with a mix of feelings: denial, anger, outrage, sympathy and confusion. His dad came back in later, and gave Rafee a huge hug and told Rafee how much he loved him no matter what. This was a double surprise, a bonus, for Rafee. All his life he longed for that hug from his dad. All his life he wanted this acknowledment from his dad. Today his dad gave him a genuine, heartfelt hug and told him directly how much he loved him.

If anything, Rafee was so relieved to have told his parents. His mom believed every single part of the story, and the only thing she said was: “Rafee we love you. If you had told us earlier, we would have sent that man to jail for such a crime. We could have arrested him and had him jailed!” Rafee asked himself in his heart, “why didn’t I tell my parents before?

The next day and for the rest of the summer, his parents made every effort to help Rafee heal. They talked to him, consoled him, and made him feel loved. They took him to counselors and doctors. Rafee had been suffering from severe depression. Rafee was just glad he shared with his parents, and realized then that his parents’ love for him was unconditional. Rafee again began seeing Hope.

Mai Yamani

Hey guys,

Mai Yamani, daughter of Zaki Yamani the Saudi Oil Minister, used to be my neighbor in Jeddah. She now lives in London. Her views may be critical towards Saudi Arabia, but I feel she is honest about it. I heard her speak on BBC news last night, and someone sent me this article on her views on the death of King Fahd. Her basic argument is that there is no hope in the current youth generation to lead reforms in the country, but if you skip a generation, then there is a hope for reforms and positive changes. CNN reported that 3/4 of the population are 27 and below, with rising unemployment. "Two rival camps, the so-called reformers and the hard liners, are forming between the 22,000 princes and princesses in the Al Saud family." I pray for a successful transition and for positive outcomes for the future of Saudi Arabia.

Also, here is a great article on the legacy of King Fahd. I learnt a lot more about him than I did from the local newspapers here in Dubai.

Mansur

Zero Customer Service

Hey friends,

The good brother that I am, I gave away my earphones for my iPod to my sister who has lost hers. She claims they aer expensive in London so I should get another one here. So I was at Deira City Center last night looking for new ones. Guess what? Not a single shop has them! I mean, if you are selling iPods like crazy why don't you have their accessories too?

From Radio Shack to Plug Ins to the local electronic store, no one had them, and I realized then that I gave away the best earphones I had ever used. So, my final resort was Virgin Superstore. As I was browsing through their iPods section, the staff approached me.

"Can I help you sir?" he asked away.
"Sure. I am looking for earphones for the iPods?" I told him.
"We don't stock them here."
"Do you know where I can get them from?" I inquired.

Ok, I don't know what happened, but someone blew this staff's fuse. He took a step backwards, raised his hands in the air and said out loudly "everyone wants the freakin' white earphones." I was little surprised by his attitude. He made a moody face and was expressing disgust at me for my choice.

"You shouldn't buy Apple's earphones. They suck. I am telling you," he started ranting off loudly, "Panasonic and Aiwa make better earphones."
"No they certainly don't," I spoke back, "Apple's earphones are the best because their bass is excellent."
"Sir," he said, almost shouting, "Take it from me! I have sold 1000s of iPods, I am telling you, their ear phones are the worst. I am sorry to say this, but they are worse!"
"Well, I know that Panasonic are not better than iPod and I am looking for the Apple ones!"

He just started rambling on and on and made me feel very uncomfortable. I don't know what it was. Did the fact that he was an employee at Virgin went to his head that somehow he was a cool person? Was it something personal he had against Apple? Or it because there is usually bad customer service here in Dubai anyways?

I was trying to figure out all night why this particular employee was ranting at me, saying it to my face that Apple earphones suck and that I should buy Panasonic. Who the heck was he to tell me things like this? I think he went overboard with his duty. When I want his opinion, I will ask for it. I don't want to hear someone like him telling me what to do when I just ask for earphones of a particular brand. I think the staff at Virgin have deluded themselves that they are the coolest or hippest people working on this planet. Almost always you see them do attention-grabbing things. Plus, customer service in Duabi is next to zero. When you go to UK and US, they are much moreh helpful and always believe the customer is always right. They will exchange or refund your money. Refund for money is non-existent here in Dubai.

I know I am put off by Virgin now and have decided not to go there for as long as I can avoid. I also plan on writing to the newspaper about this zero customer service here.

Mansur