The Road to Success

I just saw an interesting video.

It spoke about how striving towards what our ideals in society have become, can have a rather isolating effect on people. In this modern age of connectedness via social media, we are under a constant illusion that we have tons of friends, that we are constantly connected with the world; rather, sometimes it catalyses the exact opposite effect, leaving one feeling completely alone.  It is almost as if you walk into a crowded masquerade ball, but quite soon the world around you starts dissolving away and the feeling of being in a completely separate dimension takes over.

Not that that has happened to me, of course; I don’t do balls!

I have thought about this point at great length. Namely, when one of my friends from abroad would be tagged in Facebook pictures, I would catch regular glimpses of what he was doing. In a non-stalking way, you probably get to see, in passing, status updates and pictures of people who you may almost never speak with. It is slightly creepy when you think about people who are actually actively ‘Facebook stalking’ you without your knowledge…(and the craziest thing is how completely normal people suddenly become crazy stalkers when it comes to Facebook). Anyway, this individual constantly appeared in pictures where he was partying, surrounded by attractive friends, attending great events, and seemed to be having the time of his life. I was completely shocked when I found out how miserable he really was.

This made me realize that what we have brought upon ourselves is the Celebrity culture. Where young girls (and guys) are still watching the brushed up actresses and super models, and getting completely unrealistic expectations of what a woman should look like; we have done the exact same thing through our virtual relationships. People may untag themselves in pictures where they don’t look flattering, they have the choice of deliberating their responses (and searching Google), editing/deleting before they reply to your chats or posts, and the glimpse into someone’s life that you get on a tool like Facebook is likely to be the equivalent of watching ‘Match of the Day’, or fast-forwarding through the highlights of a film.

I remember the three months after I graduated where I was unemployed, and had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. I was lucky enough to partake in a leadership program at Oxford University, and I then found work soon after. One profile-picture change, and one status update later, I found that I was getting messages like ‘smashing it as usual, bro!’ and ‘you’re killing it after uni!’. My countless hours of going through an emotional rollercoaster in front of a computer screen simply translated into ‘success, success, SUCCESS!’. But what is success? What is happiness?

When I decided to become more observant of my Islamic faith, I was told by hoards of people that I was restricting myself, and missing out on life. When I started working for an NGO, I was told that I was not earning 40-50k, and so this will not lead to a successful career. When I don’t show anger or frustration at having missed a train, or a flight, I am told that I am irresponsible and that I do not care. My only confusion with this is…all these things make me happy. My faith, my attitude, my work; these are all things that give me purpose in life, and make me feel like I am living to the fullest. Yes, NOT drinking alcohol makes me feel like I am living to the fullest. NOT clubbing or having pre-marital sex gives me a sense of joy, and instills a sacredness in the institution of marriage for me. Being able to pay for a roof over my head, food to eat, and social events is more than enough for me at this stage. I do not need to be able to afford a Ferrari. If I could, would that make me successful?

To me, happiness is success. Period. If you can find happiness in everything that you do, the best of times and the worst, then you have made it. You are the top dog, the G, the legend, the Frank Sinatra, the don. From there, you can start to define your own successes and failures, but regardless of the result, YOU will still be SUCCESSFUL, because you will still be happy.

Funny thing is, the people who tell me I am restricting my life start getting agitated unless they have smoked a joint, or intoxicated themselves beyond the point of memory. The same ‘successful’ individuals who are making tons of cash are constantly trying to reach higher targets, without being able to fully enjoy what they do have. The people who start wailing over spilt milk….just aren’t using logic. The milk is spilt already; duuh! Freaking out, raising your stress levels, cursing, punching a wall, will not cause time to rewind.

Sometimes circumstances dictate our decisions; but everyone has a different measure of happiness. Some people might actually enjoy being bankers. True, they might share more genetic material with Martians and Venusians than humans, but they do exist. As a society, maybe we should not impose our ideals of success on people, but rather, encourage people to pursue the true road to success; and what success can there be, without happiness.

Be a Teacher

Be a teacher…

‘Even if you aren’t going to be a teacher, be a teacher’

This post is inspired by the viral graduation speech made by Tim Minchin. I thought it was phenomenal. I sometimes wonder whether real graduations actually have guest speakers like that, or whether it is some Hollywood fantasy that YouTube has concocted to make us believe in ourselves once more; obviously, Disney is behind it.

He gave 9 superb points of advice, but the one that really resonated with me was about teaching.

The type of society I was brought up in measures success by how high up the banking ladder one is, or how many 0’s one can write on a check (before the decimal point, that is!). Teaching as a profession is not the most extravagant job, there are not many prospects for massive bonuses and prestige, and so it is not regarded in the best light. If one wishes to become a teacher, most of the time, the talk of the town will be that said person did badly on their exams, or could not find a job, and hence resorted to teaching. Unfortunately, there is truth to that point, and some people do resort to teaching as a last resort. Thankfully, this mentality does not exist everywhere, but I was surrounded by it.

Naturally, when I chose to pursue a Bachelors in Mathematics, the first question I was asked was ‘Why? You want to be a teacher?’.

‘No, no… I would never degrade myself to teaching life skills to our future generations. It is far more important for me to wear a suit I can’t fit in, drive a car whose name I can’t pronounce, all the while, appeasing the same demographic of society that sets out to please itself’

Ok, I never said that! I won’t lie, I got this question so much that I usually had a  large list of professions ready to convince people that a Maths degree was for more than ‘just’ Maths teachers. I would pull out articles about Maths graduates earning high salaries, and how ‘demanded’ we would be. It was as if I were hell-bent on being seen as successful BECAUSE I wanted not to be a teacher.

I do not want to be a full-time teacher by profession. Although I am passionate about change within the Education sector, and I have always been open to teaching on a voluntary basis, locally or in third world countries, I do not wish to be a Teacher with a capital T. I respect the hell out of Teachers though. I admire them. I can remember almost every teacher I have ever had, whether they were horrendous, exemplary or just plain ordinary, because that is the effect a teacher has on a young mind.

That puts me in the category that the majority of us non-Teachers are in; a teacher – with a small t.

Education should never become elitist. It it does/if it has, then it is up to us to teach, and pass on anything we have learnt. Be that experience, skills or knowledge. You learn with each passing second. Even if you ‘never learn’, you learn.  A conversation with a smiting idiot will teach you a number of things: -

1)   Don’t engage in conversations with smiting idiots

2)   The best way to escape a conversation with a smiting idiot

3)   The smiting idiot might break character for but a moment in an impromptu departure from smiting idiocy, and you might actually take something beneficial away

4)   Who the hell am I to call someone a smiting idiot? Maybe I am being judgmental

Life really is about learning. To live is to learn, and philosophically, I fail to see how the concept of life, time, reality and learning can be separated whatsoever (that could lead to an interesting discussion if I weren't the only reader of this blog). What better way to express our life, our learning, but by teaching? To me, that is poetry.

Be a Teacher, or spend your life teaching

Miracle on Bristol Street

Sometimes you experience miracles. 

You might be so wowed by one, that you feel like doing somersaults. If you are exceptionally daring, you might click your heels in the street. Some people might raise their hands in the air, or touch their heads on the ground in prostration. If you are an exceptionally cool person of faith, you might proclaim in a moment of carefree spontaneity; ‘PRAISE THE LOOOORD!’. 

Many people will brush the miracle off as an act of chance; which is a belief I am happy to accept, but still not justification for the absence of a miracle in my eyes. Some people might not react whatsoever, and I think that is quite upsetting. 

-     ‘Who asked for your opinion anyway?’
-     ‘Seeing as my blog is one of the few things I am completely in control of, I would advise you to keep your comments to yourself, weird-voice-in-my-head!’


 I think there is beauty in expressing emotion. Happiness in times of calamity is an extremely difficult state to reach, but it is the closest definition of ‘heaven-on-earth’ in my mind. 

So I went to visit Bristol recently, as you do. Great city, here’s a shout out to all my Bristol-ites! Now those closest to me, namely people whom I share insane amounts of genetic material with, have described me using the rather unflattering term ‘irresponsible’. I will one day make the case that I am simply a being who is on the ‘chilled’ side, but until then, feel free to make up your own mind!

 The day I was leaving, I had already booked my coach ticket from Bristol to London. I did not have a rail card at the time, and a pre-booked coach was a good bet at getting to keep my arm and leg during any financial transactions. I woke up nice and early, took my sweet time to do my last minute packing, took my not-so-sweet time to complete my unfinished business (ask no questions, and get no responses you will regret hearing),and sought to leave with a good half hour to spare. I reached for the door knob, only to realize that my eye sight was not spectacularly crystal clear

 -     ‘Gosh golly Batman, you forgot those glasses of yours’


 What started as a 30 second ‘take my glasses and leave’ turned into a 30 minute fiasco looking for a needle in a haystack. To make a long story somewhat less long, I decided to sacrifice my dear glasses and break into a sprint for the coach station. Needless to say, being 4 minutes late, I quickly came to the realization that Justin Timberlake and Madonna are far more efficient with their even multiples of time than I am.

 I immediately checked my phone for cheap tickets back to London, and caught wind of an even cheaper ticket back, ninety minutes later. Not so fast, this is Mr. Responsible we are talking about. I decided NOT to pay for the ticket immediately since, in the off chance that I were to miss it again, I did not want more money to go down the drain. So, I sat down in my spot to read a rather interesting book, and decided to wait until I had reached the bus to buy a physical ticket, or pay for the online version. 

With a half hour to spare and no navigation, I realized the bus station for this cheaper bus was different to the one I was at. In a race for time, my animal instincts led me to the venue with a good 10 minutes to spare, and the angelic presence of the bus in front of me lead to a large gospel choir breaking into ‘Hallelujah’s. I am still not sure whether those were in my head or not.

 - ‘One ticket, my good sir, and keep the change (you filthy animal)’
- ‘We do not sell physical tickets…and it is far too late to buy one online. We stop selling them 15 minutes before departure. Sorry’
-‘really? Are there no free seats? Could I not buy a ticket now, or even pay your company later?’
- ‘Very sorry, it is against policy’
- ‘No problem. This thing I’m seeing on my eyes, is this what it looks like when one’s life crumbles before ones eyes?’ 

Now I have made a resolution with myself. When I feel that things are not going the way I want them to, I take a deep breath and say ‘Alhamdulilah’. I felt quite good after managing not to get upset by missing another bus, and in my moment of high, I just stayed standing in my spot. I did not move. I felt peaceful. This was generally something I would not do…just standing in my place for a good 5 minutes, right in front of the bus, for no reason whatsoever. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a women walking towards me. She was dressed in loose, light blue, parachute pants (American use of the word) and a hippie looking tank top. She also had a red Indian Bindi dot on her forehead, and something about her screamed ‘spirituality’. She politely came up to me and asked,
‘Would you like to have my tea? I cannot take it on board, the bus leaves in a few minutes and I do not want to waste a perfectly good tea.’ 

Spirituality, and food conservationist in one? Who was this soul mate of mine? As averse as I am to accepting drinks from strangers, I might have considered taking it, were I not engaged in a dawn to dusk fast from food and drink. I politely declined, and explained that I was fasting. I might not have usually explained that I was fasting, but something about the woman told me that she would have no problem in understanding. She then went to the bus driver, and I remained in my spot, now increasingly unsure of why I was still standing where I was. It was as if I could not move. Before I knew it, I saw the driver slowly walking towards me again. 

-     ‘You’re fasting, are you?’
-     ‘Why yes, yes I am’
-     ‘…hmm…get on, we have a number of spare seats. Please pray for me, and may God bless you!’
-     ‘….say what?’

 So there I was, sitting on the bus, amazed by what had just happened. To me, it was all a crazy chain of events, where I could have, and should have left, but didn’t. A stranger offered me their tea for the first time ever, on the day I happened to be fasting. This stranger somehow managed to mention it in a random conversation with the driver for no apparent reason. I felt morally comfortable on the bus considering I had already paid for a ticket, but I will keep in mind that I owe MegaBus 7 quid at some point. 

I was fasting because we just so happen to be in the 10 days of Dhul Hijjah, a month in the Islamic calendar where the first 10 days are described as the ‘best days of the entire year’. Muslims believe these days to have spiritual blessing in them, and so for me, small experiences like this, which may seem like a natural occurrence to some, or an interesting coincidence at the most to others, simply seeks to reignite my faith of positivity and spiritual well being. I felt like I was part of a chess board, with God showing me all the right moves before my very eyes. To me, it was like listening to a story where you feel like you learn a great lesson, except that the story was happening to me!

 It was a miracle. I felt happy. My happiness was a miracle. Happiness is miraculous   

It's about time

Write a blog! It’s about time!

Write a blog! It’s about time!

That would be a great introduction to a blog about time. This blog is not about time.

Rather, what better time to write a blog? 20-something, just finished uni, starting a new chapter in life and self-discovery…now is the time you write a blog.

-       Ok, now we’ve got that sorted, what do I write about?

-       Well, I’d have to reciprocate that question on your scrummy backside, and ask, why the hell not?

I think creativity is a problem. There is no lack of creativity; in fact, there is certainly abundance. However, how often does that creativity lead to productivity that can bring benefit to society? How often are the Arts and Sciences combined to bring us masterpieces that we can change the world with? Without innovation in art and technology, do nations ever reap the fruits of economic growth?

Well, what started as my one rhetorical question for emphasis quickly turned into a self-indulgent tricolon. I don’t claim to have the answers though, so if nations have thrived before on innovations outside Art and Science, please do correct me.

We started talking about creativity: - that was going well; let’s continue with that. Steve Jobs talked about not doing as much philanthropic work as people like Gates, because he believed that far more benefit can come to society when your main aims and focuses seek to benefit society in themselves. Rather than making money through an unhealthy means, he believes that real change comes when people’s livings are earned off their passions for changing the world.

My two cents (worth even less in British currency) are that you can never really do too much, but I sure as hell respect Gates and Jobs.

Back to my original point, it might seem that we are in a period of scientific rationalism and technological innovation. In the last 100 years, we have seen shifts from radio to television, theatre screens to personal projectors, bricks to smart phones, computers and Internet. It seems like centuries ago that your mum had to get off the phone before you wanted to use the Internet. The idea of waiting a minute for a webpage to load brings tears of anguish to many eyes these days. But how much creativity in this world has been left untapped?

A friend of mine is a mobile app designer. Whenever he tells someone of his profession, he gets showered with ‘I got a great idea for an app, cus’ ‘. How many of us have thought of ‘great ideas for a movie’ or thought to themselves ‘I should write that all in a book’. This is all creativity! People are constantly thinking, using their imaginations, but due to a number of things ranging from social circumstance, social pressure, self esteem, laziness; these ideas stay with us and die with us.

-       Thanks for that, cus. Geez, you might ‘swell end there, nothing like inspiring by ending on a note of death

-        …who even says ‘cus’ anymore?

I could turn this into a rant about how society and ‘the system’ (just to clarify, the system does not refer to illuminati or Zionists) is sucking away at our creativity, and turning us into shinier cogs to place into their machine of conformity. But I won’t. We are no longer children, where our creativity would lead to drawings, or stories, or even large amounts of time with action figures/dolls just being able to play out large scale scenarios in our heads

Instead, I will end on a serious note; a note of death. Just kidding.

-       That wasn’t funny.

-       …tough crowd

I want to write this blog…because I want to write. I feel I procrastinate. I feel I have ideas, great ideas. I feel that slowly these ideas are getting wasted. I feel that most of my time in front of my computer screen is not helping my creativity. I feel that I read and write far less than I used to, and I don’t know why that is. I feel that no one will read this blog, but many blogs are not necessarily for the reader’s benefit. I feel my writing is self-indulgent. I feel that writing anything whatsoever gets my brain going in a way that it rarely goes anymore. I feel that this is a start; this is a way in for me. I feel good that I have shared my thoughts. I feel I never understood why people wrote blogs, but now I realize it is about time.  (I will ensure my next blog is about time)

It’s about time I wrote a blog.