Most men don't like SHOPPING! Fact?

Most men don't like SHOPPING! Fact?

Went shopping today to check out what the fuss was all about. I usually don't like shopping during the New Years sales because the shops are swarming with bodies and being 5 foot ...erm tall - its quite daunting! Besides I hate queueing for the tills for ages to purchase something which I really could buy any other time in the year.  Nothing really caught my eye from the 'sales' and before you could know it I was queueing at the Krispy Kreme counter! Why I always feel peckish when I go out is truly beyond me.  Luckily I was with my daughter, so I had an excuse to sit on the bench and scoff the ring-shaped, chocolate and sprinkle covered treat. I made a funny observation.  I saw a reluctant husband in the shopping centre sporting a slouched back and frown; who would probably rather be seeing footie on telly on the sofa at home. Another man rushed by tagging along with the wife who was going 40mph leading ahead! I smiled to myself thinking 'poor man'.  Opposite across the shopping centre was yet another 'helpless, vulnerable' husband sat on the couch in front of Primark in the shopping centre anxiously waiting for his wife who is probably running like a wild goose purchasing the entire SHOP!! I felt so sorry for the man as he had been bullied into looking after the children, the crying baby in the pushchair and the pet dog while the wife spends their life savings in one day!

I got up and walked into John Lewis and as I was making a beeline for the homeware section I overheard a conversation between a man and a woman in the women's clothing department.  A woman was asking the dreaded age old question: 'Watcha think of this dress?' as she holds the dress in front of her. Not only can the poor man not hear her with the christmas music in the store but now he's panicing whether or not he should say the truth! At this point the safest option would be to smile and nod your head! (which he did). He also had this vacant look on their face; either he was dreaming of when they'll be home for dinner, something technical or another lady! (Let's hope it's not the latter!).

As I was travelling up on the escalator I passed the Lingerie and Accessories section. I saw yet another poor male 'victim' standing lost amongst the array of silk, lace, frills and ribbon clad itsy lingerie. Men don't know what to do with themselves when the female of species be it their wife, girlfriend or daugther is in the lingerie section!  I bet their thinking ...'Oh no! Not the lingerie section!'  but then again me a female -do I know what these men are really thinking! Talking from observation; men aren't really allowed to smile in the lingerie section for fear of looking like a pervert; so what do they do?  ...They act all DUMB! Suddenly the poor guy finds himself leaning on a bra stand which proudly hangs some purple frilly double F bras! He jumps at the sight nearly knocking them over! (Yikes!)  Lol.... this really did happen but I'm sworn to secrecy as to who this happened to! ...but I'll leave you to be the judge of that.


Bless them - they do carry our bags and tow along with us even though they have an attention span of a goldfish!

As for now us lady's are going to have to put up with: "Are you finished looking yet? This is about the 20th shoe shop we've been to! I'm tired, I wanna go home, I wanna do a number 2 and I'm hungry!"  
MEN: You can't live with them and you can't live without them!

Bittersweet 10th Birthday.

My first born will turn 10 tomorrow.  Yes the big 1-0, double digits, having lived a decade, a major milestone reached; ...call it what you may but it has just dawned on me. She will be TEN, no longer a weenie baby, a boisterous toddler, a care-free child, .... but TEN! (OMG!!!!)

I must says I'm a sucker for milestones.  First smile, first steps, first words, first day at nursery, first visit to the library, first day shopping, first ear piercing (which I can vividly remember didn't go down that well), ...but nothing gets me more emotional than birthdays, especially those important ones: 1st, 10th, 16th, 18th, 21st, 30th and then every age thereof that ends in zero!

If I close my eyes and rewind back 10 years; I can still see the moment when I held my daughter, Sumaiya snug in my arms in her woollen blanket,  I can still smell that baby smell that new borns often have and I can still see her beautiful large dark brown eyes staring starry-eyed back at me.  If I close my eyes even tighter - I can see the photo montage of her life right before my eyes. *Sigh*  Right now I'm feeling kind of choked up and can almost taste my impending tears. However, trying to hold back - I need to write this memoir.  

I'm sat in my bed with the comfort of my duvet weighted on my legs while precariously balancing my notebook on a cushion.  I wonder 'Where did the time go?' and 'How the years have flown by so quick?' I can just about recollect the last 10 years; I'd dread to think what the next 10 years would bring and so much more to remember. As the years go on, my brain cells would diminish and I would be unable to retrieve these cherished memories.  Anyway, such is life and that's why keeping a journal is so important.

Earlier today when I put my two girls to bed, I looked around my daughter's bedroom which she shares with her sister, Inaaya and pondered how things have changed.  In the corner is Sumaiya's book stand filled with colourful children's books, her bedding covered with hearts and baby owls and at the foot of her bed hangs an array of plastic beaded necklaces, hair clips and funky headbands that only a child could carry off.  I turned to my youngest who is asleep in the cot bed in what was once my eldest daughter's cot bed.  I smile to myself and remember those nights when I'd wake up to see Sumaiya asleep in the prostrated position with her bottom in the air and that too on the opposite foot side of the cot! Bless her.

Suddenly I'm back to reality and I look at my daughter asleep and the last remnants of her baby face disappearing.  She is almost 3 quarters along the length of the single bed and almost reaching my height (anyone who knows me for my short height knows this isn't impossible!). 

I try to summarise all that she has been through.  She was a petite child, timid, happy, sincere and with a million dollar smile which revealed a distinguishable pin drop dimple on her left cheek and present still today.  After 7 addresses and even more number of colourful specs- she has turned out to be some character and I'm not just saying that simply because I am her mum.  Sumaiya, with us has tolerated moving home 7 times. Living like a nomad is not easy on the parents or the child. As a parent I struggled with working and having a child (any working mum can understand how it feels).  I tried to overcompensate for the difficult times and wanted stability but Sumaiya too felt my tensions and adjusted without a whisper of complaint.  Just as how she adjusted when her younger baby sister was born who subsequently had been taken seriously ill needing heart surgery who now has special needs.  

Sumaiya was four at the time when Inaaya was born. Late nights at the hospital took its toil on our family.  There was one occassion that I hadn't seen Sumaiya for one whole month because I had been in hospital with her baby sister.  Sumaiya walked up to me in the hospital corridor with her scraggy frame and mis-matched clothes (obviously dressed by her father) to visit us. My eye's welled up and my world had already fallen apart with the stress of limbo-ing between life and death and suffering the baby blues. I was about to give up, but that day Sumaiya gave me a ray of hope.  She made me wake up to reality and made me come to my senses without having to say anything.  Just her presence was enough to console me.  Sumaiya needed me in her life and I needed her.

Young children are non-judgemental and positive-minded.  She took on Inaaya's disabilities 'on the chin'.  Yes, as Sumaiya has gotten older; I've had been asked: "Mum, can Inaaya see me?, Why can't she walk?" or "Will she get better?"  Questions which break my heart to pieces but still composed I'd attempt to answer the questions that I don't know the answers to.  As the years have gone by; it didn't matter anymore.  We've stopped asking the questions and my family have learnt to embrace the challenge more.  It has made us stronger and resilient as a family unit. Our abnormal life has become 'our normal'.  We don't know any different and we wouldn't change it for the world.  

Just the other day I asked Sumaiya some probing questions like: "Are you jealous of Inaaya?" or "Do you get angry with Inaaya?"  She simply replied "I'm jealous that she's so cute!" and scrunched up her face and reached to give her little sister a hug and a hard kiss on the cheek.  The fact that Sumaiya looked behind her sister's 'inabilities' was overwhelming for me and a feeling of contentment.

I recall when once we had a family gathering in our new home and I was slaving away in the kitchen (as per usual) and every so often I popped my head in the living room to check on the family and to see if Inaaya was OK on the floor playing with her toys. I stood in the passage for a moment and observed my eldest daughter, nephews and nieces playing on the sofa.  Sumaiya every so often glanced down at Inaaya to check if her sister was OK and continued to play with some unease with her cousins.  You could tell Sumaiya was not fully engaged in playing.  Inaaya was on the floor trying to crawl and suddenly lost her balance and almost hit her head on the floor narrowly missing the glass coffee table - at which point Sumaiya saved her. Her reaction was so swift as if it were an automatic reflex.  I straight away ran up to them (still in my curry-smell infested apron) and took over the situation and gave Sumaiya a big hug for protecting her sister and said: "You go on and play, don't worry about Inaaya; the adults in the room will watch her.... You just be the child that you are." She looked at me bemused and turned to her cousins relunctantly to play.

I realised that Sumaiya's experiences of having a sister with special needs made her not only a big sister having love and compassion but a young carer with unconditional love and always going that extra mile; for that I am grateful to her and so proud of her.  

Sumaiya is my daughter, my soul-mate, my friend, my shopping companion, my little helper, my masseuse and my cleaner (just kidding!).  So occasionally when Sumiaya asks me if she can put make-up on my face or style my hair; I surrender to be her guinea pig model no matter how tired I am, and in all honestly I don't really mind participating as long as I don't look like a clown and don't have to look in a mirror for the end result!

Happy 10th Birthday Sumaiya!  Ammu loves you sooooooo much. Live each moment and enjoy your childhood because you're only a child (and TEN) once in your life. x






 

Cringing as I type!

My tutor asked me to write a blog about ME... so I thought I'd post it on here too.  I don't particularly like writing about myself because I think it has that 'cringe-factor' about it.  Anyway here goes....

My Story…. so far.

My name is Asma Begum.   I was born and have spent my whole life in London. My parents are of Bangladeshi descent and immigrated to the UK in the 1970’s. I have been bought up in a humble and hardworking family and in turn it has made me very appreciative of life and what it brings. I have one sister and two brothers and I am the youngest. I am bubbly, friendly and a well grounded individual.  I have lived in the east end of London all my life.  I love the fact that it is rich in culture, creativity and has a wealth of history.  When I think of London; I think of a multi-cultural, fast paced, metropolitan city. London has its mixture of high-rise buildings, listed buildings, Victorian town houses and run down tower blocks.  On one hand you have Canary Wharf which is situated in the heart of London’ east end.  It is a haven for corporate offices and high end shops, restaurants and cafés which are not too far from home.

1938 London Underground Map

On the other hand, if you delve deeper into the cobble street you also have the beautiful architectures of Victorian houses and old town halls to admire.  I especially love the experience of the bustling culture and vibrancy of Spitalfields’ market where I spent most of my childhood years and still visit now.  Likewise I love the hidden treasures and vintage charm of Camden Market and Covent Garden.  These places make me feel proud to be a Londoner and keeps me grounded in a fast-paced city.

1999 London Underground Map

I am currently studying Media and Creative Industries and the subjects which I have chosen are Journalism, Creative Writing and Theatre Studies.  Previous to attending UEL Docklands; I have worked in a number of jobs; from fast-food at McDonalds during my college years (which also helped pay for driving lessons) to working in a flagship retail store in bustling Oxford Street and survey work on foot, which I gained invaluable experience from.  I gradually worked my way up to a senior managerial role in retail administration field whilst working part-time and studying at university.  In 2001 I dropped my university studies as at the time an opportunity for promotion was offered to me at my workplace which I took on.

A few years later I got married and not long after I had a baby! I was enjoying motherhood so took a year-long break from work.  At the same time I was living like a nomad, renting here and there.  It was difficult moving place to place with a baby and it was a terrible time for me, but I had to dust off my shoulders and continue. When my child turned one I went back to work. It wasn’t easy as any mother would know but I always had this drive to keep mentally motivated and challenged.  My experience in the field of Administration and having studied Business Administration at university in year one landed me in a job in Administration with the NHS/Metropolitan Police.  I worked for a sexual assault referral centre as Administrator/PA.  Initially the work involved was difficult but I had to learn to become thick-skinned and professional at my work. I worked there for several years until I decided to have another baby.  I worked through my pregnancy as I had done before with my first child.  Unfortunately my second child was born with a congenital heart disease and had special needs requiring my 24/7 attention.  I went on maternity leave and then on a two year career break.  I knew I could not exhaust any more time off from work to care for my chronically ill child so had no option but to resign.   My resignation was emotional and so was the job.  It took a toll on me and I needed a change of scene.  Although I was really hardworking, organised and efficient at my administrative job; it was something that I was ‘good at’ but was not necessarily what I ‘enjoyed’ doing.  

The realisation of wanting to do something I enjoyed and not just something I was good at came to me during long hospital stays and the sleepless nights at home.  It got me pondering how I could draw on my experiences in life.  I knew what I went through whether good or bad made me who I am today.  I knew I had a story to tell hence I turned to writing.  I had always kept a diary from childhood as far back as I could remember!  In my spare time I would write down my thoughts in a notebook.  I eventually started my own blog writing articles, general matters and poems. In the meanwhile my youngest child grew older and began to thrive and seem more well within herself.  She now attends a special needs school which she loves. I found I had more and more time to myself. I just could not be a full-time mum, housewife; I became restless. I was in the mind-set to do something; to achieve, to follow my dreams… wherever it may take me.

I decided to go back to studying and now I contemplate that this move to go back to university and to finish my degree has been the best decision yet.  I do not regret leaving my studies 10 years ago because I would have just probably been stuck doing admin because that’s all I would know and have not known any different.  

So here I am following my heart and passion for writing.   Whether it is journalism, writing or screenwriting I choose to do; I am hopeful furthering my studies will equip me with the skills, knowledge and experience needed to follow my dreams.

My MICROWAVE has gone kaput after 7 years!!!

My microwave has gone kaput after 7 years!  So I would like to take this moment to think a while, pay my respects and appreciation of an amazing invention of mankind!

Dear Microwave,

We go back a long time.  You were gleaming and shiny when I first brought you home and against the other kitchen appliances you had the pride of place on the counter top.

You have been with me through thick and thin.  There’s been difficult times like that stubborn jacket potato which had you working overtime and there’s been easier times like the croissant that just took a couple of seconds of your tender time to warm.

You have performed against the odds; you coped through birthdays, anniversaries, family gatherings, dinner parties and more. You never wanted anything in return apart from a gentle lemon-wash cleaning now and then.

You have given food a temporary home, consoled them and warmed them up before they were devoured.

You never wasted any time in making popcorn and always ‘dinged’ on time before the movie started.

You were there for the late night hot chocolate which eased me and the kids to bed and you never failed to step up to warm the wheat bag when I was ill or had a tummy ache.

Now…… you have done your fair share of hard work and everything has taken a toll on you…but one thing I must say..... WHAT A WAY TO GO!!!! With a display of ***FIREWORKS AND SPARKS!***

You will never be forgotten! :)

Poem by Asma Begum

I wasn't hibernating... Honest!

OK... I know what you my be thinking? Why the cold shoulder? Am I a gone into hibernation? Summer and winter went and gone not even a sound of keyboard creativity! Earthquakes, tsunami, floods, wars, riots but no recent posts!?!  The real reason is I... I... I am suffering from a rare psychological disorder called the 'extended' (guilty as charged, too busy with life, no time to blog) Writer's Block.   Not it's not made up - it's true!  Sometime it's referred as TBATT Syndrome. (Too Busy All The Time)! 

I apologise for my unexplained disappearace.... so let me update you in a nut shell.  

In 2010; I moved to my new home, so was fixing things, decorating, buying furnishings and the highlight of my chores - assembling a flat-packed 20 piece metal shed from Argos.... Lovely! ...Oh did I mention I was assembling this shed with the help of three (think they know-it-all) clueless men!

The bleeding shed took a whole day to put up!  There was so many parts, nuts and bolts - that initially when we unboxed the parts - we though we were assembling a space craft in the back garden not a shed at all!  Anyways; I leave the blokes for 2 minutes (2 minutes I tell ya!) to put the kettle on for a brew and they decide to disregard the manual and go with their man-brains and ego!  I warned them that they will regret not following the instructions but their man-ness and ability to solve problem was under severe scutiny so they had to save their man-hood.  The sheer competition amongst them - it was like seeing three cavemen fighting over some meat!  "Calm down, calm down....it's a shed guys!"

As you know many months passed and I was adjusting to my new home.  Niggling problems here and there and some cracks began to show (literally).  The school run were hard too as my girls attended two different schools and it didn't help that my home was situated in a 'no through road' street! After resigning from work in 2010 - I pursued some of my hobbies and interest; doing arts and crafts, sewing, writing, jogging and cycling, but still wanted to excel and push myself more.

In 2011 I siked myself to go back to studying part-time.  I was thinking about it a few months but finally made the plunge in Sept 2011 (narrowly missing the 9k fees)....wooohooo!  So 10 odd years later I got on the band wagon (again) but this time tried to style it out like I knew what I was doing or where I was going!  Boy, was I wrong; your brains just doesn't absorb information and direction as quick as it does than when you are young and of prime study age!

Mature Student... who me??? Nah...I'm 21.... Youthful, cool and hip I am! ...oh yes I am!  OK... after miserably failing to 'act' young and bust a few slang terms; my cover-up was looking bleak.  You know I can't lie at all to save my life and with the blabber mouth that I am; before I knew it I was telling everyone my life story, my marital status, how many kids I have ....and last but not least my AGE!!!! "I'm 29" - I often said in a quiet, muffled voice.

In the first ice-breakers exercise when we were meeting fellow students; we were going round the table asking everyone about their age.  Some were 19 (uni-virgins and on the academic roll).  Some in their early 20's (the 'gap yearers, and not so sure what I'm doing with my lifers'), and then the 25+ students or the 'mature students' as most universities like to call it!  I interpret the Mature Students as either the 'did it all beforers and screwed it upers' or the 'did it; done it and brought the t-shirters but actually want to do something I enjoyers'!  I like to catergorise myself as in the latter type of students.

In 2012, still a student fortunately and done really well in all my modules if I say so myself.  This studying larky is so much fun and motivating. Never thought I would say this now let alone when I was 19. Ppfftt! If I had prodded along at univeristy 10 years ago doing a pointless degree I would pretty much be nowhere.  I have gained a wealth of experience and skill in my 10 years and I do not regret leaving my studies first time round.  I look at it this way - now I know what I want to do whereas 10 years ago I was misguided and lost.  It's true what the say with age you get wiser and you have more patience.  Don't get me wrong I'm not an old fuddy duddy ready to pack in and get the knitting needles out and winge about the youth... (although I do that now....the knitting that is, not the winging!)  Hey knitting is hip...now we've had a 'make do and mend' revolution all over again. Where have you been?

Anywho another significant thing has happened to me in ealrly 2012.  After much struggle with myself I decided to wear the hijab (headscarf).  I've had many sleepless night over this and the decison to wear a headscarf was not an easy one.  It was not so much that fact of covering my hair or my die-hard love for earings that was a problem but it was the responsibilty that came with it.   What it represented.  You can just as well be a praticing  good muslim, observe you fast, prayers, pay zakat, do good deeds etc without a headscarf as I had done before but I believe by wearing a headscarf it puts you in the frame of mind more. Allah (God) does not judge according to your body and appearance but looks into your hearts and good deeds. Saying by the Prophet, Muhammad [pbuh]

I must emphasize no one forced me... I just had this need to wear it.  I haven't changed as a person as such.  I'm still the same me in body and mind but a bit more spiritual.  Like how a doctor or nurse wears a uniform to perform their job; I too wear a hijab to perform my job in this life as a muslim human being.  It keeps me in the frame of mind and I have never felt happier and enlightened.

Oh almost forgot, it was my 10th wedding anniversary this year, so was the Queen's Diamond Jubilee and the 2012 Olympics.  Also went to Malaga, Spain in April which was fabulous!  The first holiday abroad with my little poorly girl which is a huge milestone for us. Also went to a residential in June with my family and neices. All in all an eventful year!  Ramadan has just finished and it has been 2 years in my humble abode which I call home.  Enjoying the summer and whatever is left of it with my two beautiful girls and hubby who is not so beautiful and rightly so otherwise I would be a tad worried and jealous! 

I shall love you and leave you and hope you can forgive me for being TBATT (Too Busy All The Time!)...until next time! x