Recreating Villages
10/18/07
Ours was a chaotic household. If the walls could speak, they would reverberate with pulsating laughter, loud arguments, and shrieks of children’s voices. My mother raised the entire village, cooking overfilled pots just-in-case-because-you-never-know-who-will-drop-by-for-lunch. I still haven’t mastered the art of cooking in small portions; and I still don’t know exactly how I am related to some of the “uncles”, “aunts” and “cousins” that were constantly in and out of our home.
People have always suffocated me, drowned me in their concern and love. I grew up being chastised by neighbors, crowded by relatives, and deeply bonded to my friends. There was texture to the relationships around me, a demand for depth in our horizontal relationships that plumbed our souls in the process.
Of course I couldn’t wait to get away from the stifling heat of nosey neighbors and the all-encompassing embrace of my (over) protective brothers.
Of course I nursed dreams of going far away and living in my own private enclave. I wanted to nurture my independence. I yearned for “freedom” (in all the ways that I mis-understood it then.)
Independence rocks when you are self sufficient, materially and health wise. Poverty forces people into small spaces; necessity binds us together. Generally, even in communal cultures, the more money one has the further away they choose to live from the “masses”. The biggest houses have the lowest occupants; somehow we find solace in living in tombs.
Independence is an illusion that dissipates fast when the first trial hits and you are left in a cloud of dust; fragments of the flimsy networks of surface relationships we have surrounded ourselves with.
I had Sufyan in the midst of my mom’s surgeries and chemos; surrounded by my extended family (some of whom flew thousands of miles to be close by.) Since Yusuf’s birth we have hosted so many relatives and friends, I joke that he probably doesn’t have a clear idea of who lives in this house. My mother and sister live with me, my brothers a couple of miles apart from us. Aunts, uncles, cousins still stream in and out, visiting and staying over from time to time. Along the way, I have formed deep friendships that have resisted changing circumstances to endure.
Like any other blessing I can’t imagine what I would do without the women around me who lovingly gave me soups, massages, and tough love through the rawness of childbirth. I can just begin to understand the terrible loneliness, fatigue, and frustration that can drive a woman to harm her own children. There is madness in inflicting individualism on innately social creatures.
Social creatures need depth to be able to make sense of them selves. There is an added element of sacredness that comes from womb relationships, this mercy that binds our hearts pumping the same blood. Something that fixes the soul in knowing that however much my family can drive me up the wall (and yes they often do); the knowledge that they are there for me grounds me. We live in times that dissuade and fragment family ties, only to try and replicate the same relationships with strangers. More often than not, these other “networks” remain loose and superficial and remain at best pale imitations.
I am freed to do many things because of my extended family support. When people ask me how hard it is to be raising two small children, I am almost ashamed to admit that it’s not that bad. There are many hands to help out and those times when I feel completely depleted (there are times like that, yes) I can afford to take breaks without worrying about leaving them in estranged (and potentially traumatic) environments.
My mother still mothers me through my own motherhood (yes, that’s a mouthful.) And I in turn am afforded the blessing of caring for her and offering her a feeble semblance of gratitude. My siblings know me too well for me to paddle in pretensions.
It took me a while to figure out and implement that I owe them the best of my manners and appreciation; that intimate relationships serve as a mirror for us to polish our faults off. It took us all a while longer to stop forcing conformity on each other and learn to admire our differences and what each of us brings to the table.
I realized too that I can’t pray for virtues like forbearance, kindness, beauty; if I don’t practice them with those closest around me. What use is a stranger’s false perception of us, when the reality of who we are is reflected by our inability to sustain a single loving relationship?
It was really my mother’s illness that galvanized our family together; and helped us to learn the little ways we all can and do make each other’s lives easier. And honestly, I think most of the growth had to come from my side; to clear some confusion within me that had once flipped my priorities upside down.
I realize how short lived this blessing may be, that tomorrow everyone may disappear, that jobs and opportunities keep beckoning from far away. That fights and estrangements have broken up the most solid of families; that we live in times that encourage us to tear ourselves apart from the seams; but I pray to be able to esteem the best within these relationships and not to ever live with the regret of knowing I could have done more.
May He blow His winds of Mercy in our hearts and incline us towards what matters (amin.)
10/18/07 at 7:56 am
We may be social creatures and require social contact, but sometimes (depending on how you are) it can be overwhelming to have so many people around you. But when these same r’ships begin to melt away you feel their void. A balance in everything I suppose
Ameen to your dua.
10/18/07 at 1:16 pm
Alhamdulillah! and Ameen to your dua
This is such a beautiful piece of….life that it brought tears to my eyes for its really deep truth about relationships and the bonds of blood in family. Being a new grandfather I see the truth in every line, and know the fickleness of freedom. You express so beautifully what is essential in the social bonds we have with each other that it really is one of your best pieces of writing. It aches with love and gratitude for this blessing of life and family and friends and children and all the joys of human existence. Bravo, dear Sister 
Ya Haqq!
10/19/07 at 4:01 am
mashAllah,thats so wonderfully put.
you are blessed!-)
“I can just begin to understand the terrible loneliness, fatigue, and frustration that can drive a woman to harm her own children. There is madness in inflicting individualism on innately social creaturers”
this point really hits .
so true.scaringly true.
10/19/07 at 9:25 am
Hi Maliha,
I can just begin to understand the terrible loneliness, fatigue, and frustration that can drive a woman to harm her own children.
I found this interesting. I can “just begin” to imagine the thoughts behind any horror one person might inflict on another. It’s not always much fun, but I think it helps me understand other people (and myself).
On a lighter (but more important!) topic, I hope your boys are doing well. By the way, just curious, what would the “nicknames” be for Sufyan and Yusuf?
10/19/07 at 11:12 am
You are blessed indeed, mA and may Allah always bestow His mercy upon you, ameen.
10/19/07 at 2:14 pm
Ameen to your dua, so well written.
My husband’s side of the family is very small where we live and I miss my huge extended family from my parent’s hometown. I realised much later what my extended family meant to me. How I miss the people I wished I could get away from.
Your writing is beautiful.
10/20/07 at 5:34 am
I am so happy for you that you are so blessed with such a support network. May you always be so blessed (ameen)! Part of my hesitancy in having kids comes from the thought of raising them so far away from both mine and my husband’s family. I dont know if I can handle such a challenge. Alhumdullilah that you dont have to!
10/21/07 at 2:42 am
Beautifully written, as always.
It was touching to read about your life and family which is so different from mine. I grew up away from all my relatives, in a nuclear family that had no friends. I found my escape in books and had a very strong friendship with my sister. I then married a man who finds pleasure in solitude, and can only realte to me and our two kids. I live in a different country away from my mother and sister, and have a few good friends, that I do not get to see often because of time constraints.
I have always wondered how it is like for people who have big families, lots of friends and homes that are always open and full of people coming and going. I have always craved such an experience, but I know that I will never have it, and I am not sure if I can handle it after all these years of relative isolation.
I do not want to come across as complaining or unhappy about my life, because I am really very content and AlHamdulilah I feel blessed in so many ways. It is just that this post hit a cord with me.
Beautifull duaa, May God bless you and your family and grant you all your wishes.
10/21/07 at 3:17 am
Oh wow, what a text! Masha’Allah!
Maliha it’s so amazing how many times you put my thoughts into words.. not that my thoughts are so eloquent as your words, but still.
I totally relate to what you said about us being social creatures, I truelly believe that individualism preached in our (Western) societies is doing a lot of harm to the very essence of our humanity. We simply need each other.
Thank you again for writing the way you do.
*hugz*
10/21/07 at 6:19 am
Salaam, tommorow is the anniversary of my mom’s death (oct. 22, 1993). i found my way here through irving’s blog and i am near tears because God is taking me on a walk through blogs this morning. you write beautifully. i hope it’s ok to add you to my blogroll so i can help God help others find their way here.
10/21/07 at 9:17 am
Salamaat,
Sumera: Somehow only after I had kids, I started feeling i can’t have too many people around me. I guess i want them as drowned in love and affection as i once was…
Irving: You are beautiful; and your comments are always so positive. Thank you. Don’t babies have a way of melting the hardest of hearts? Congrats on being a grandfather; you get the best of both worlds…just to indulge them without having to worry about discipline (as much.)
Safia: even though i am surrounded, sometimes I feel the frustration and how overwhelming it all is. I can’t imagine how much worse it would be if i was alone.
Kyklops: Thats a funny question to ask, because to my husband’s consternation I can nickname them both as “Sufi” (inside joke
)
We all call Sufyan: Sufy or Sufyani (my Sufyan) or other unrelated affectionate terms like habiby(my love), or baby, or sweet heart, etc.
Yusuf: I just call him affectionate terms, haven’t come up with any nicknames.
I am not too fond of nicknames because in my culture they stick forever….and some nicknames are straight up ugly…why do you ask?
Achelois: amin and to all of us Inshaallah.
Taiba: awww…huggsss sis. Here we are very few compared to “back home”…but we make do with what we have…I am sure your husband’s side is still much larger than all my family combined here. How is your pregnancy going?
Muse: I am so scared one day I will have to, but i guess i will deal with it the way women of all walks of life have had to. As for you, maybe when you are ready you can make arrangements to be close to either family…i don’t know your situation; but you are right, its really really hard either way…much worse.
W: That’s interesting…one of my sis in laws comes from a similar background to yours; and she had a really hard time adjusting to us and honestly us to her too…It’s kind of like “My big fat greek wedding” but this time reversed. At their wedding there was like 10 of them and 200 from our side; no kidding! But after a while we all had to learn, to give her space and her family has since integrated with ours.
I am saying all that to say, its not easy. Your instinct is right; if you are used to solitude its hard to be dipped into a crowded family (the crowding will seem even more magnified.)
I love solitude too and I carve my own spaces by taking solitary walks or waking up late at night to be alone. It works for me. Although I love being with family otherwise.
Natalia: I am glad you can relate
Howz the lil one? I didn’t answer your question before; you do love them both in different ways. It’s funny how much emotion those little ones can stir!
annie: welcome to my blog…please feel free to link me. Thanks for your kind words and I am glad my words were of use to your soul this morning