Umar: A Man Completed

Salaam All

Well, it's official. On Sunday, 25Jun2006, Umar headed out to greener pastures. He's now stuck in Wisconsin. Oops! Did I say "stuck"? I meant..."He's now being punished by living in Wisconsin." Oh, no wait, that's not right either. How about..."He's now being tortured by living in Wisconsin." You get the point. He's in some magical place called Wisconsin where there are no minorities, except him now. Where you get to wake up to the fresh, clean smell of cow dung. Where the tallest building in the state is the size of a 10 story apartment building in the Chicago suburbs. Where wearing hideous color combinations (green and yellow) is fashionable. Where cell phone technology is still considered cutting-edge. Ahh, yes! How magical and wondrous indeed.

Well, despite all that, Umar's recent move to Milwaukee is momentous for multiple reasons:

1. Umar's Residency. The most important and serious reason why he's out in Milwaukee. Alhamdullilah, the young, SINGLE, HOT physician (mashaAllah) now embarks on a 3-year internal medicine resideny program at Medical College of Wisconsin. On the way to Milwaukee, you're bound to see MCW's campus off of the highway and it looks, mashaAllah, really nice. I can't tell you how much I look up to him and am proud of what he's accomplished, Alhamdullilah. It's great knowing that I'll get a buncha free stuff from him like certificates to fine dining and free drugs (courtesty of pharma reps). Seriously, though, it's a tremendous Mercy from Allah that we're all grateful and happy for. Umar really loves what he does and inshaAllah patients will see that he's the best doc you could ever ask for. May Allah make things easy for him. Ameen.

2. Umar's Completion. In our tradition, it is said that once you're married half your deen is complete. In Umar's tradition, however, it is said that once you're living anywhere in Wisconsin your life ambitions are complete. Whereas most of the human populous would argue that living anywhere in Wisconsin would cut off your life ambitions, Umar obviously sees differently. You may ask yourself why does Umar, an individual of sound mind and excellent education (mashaAllah), feel that patriotic towards Wisconsin? To answer that, I'm forced and rather embarassed to say that it's because of his misguided loyalty to the GB Fudge Packers. Next thing you know this routine band wagon jumper will start rooting for the Brewers (note: "Brewers" = brewery = beer = HARAM! So supporting the Brewers, logically, is HARAM!) and the Bucs. Alas! The tragedy and plight of the middle child syndrome (i.e. dillusions of grandeur).

3. Umar's Health. Dr. Shakur will now be able to drink fresh milk from the local cows that I'm sure casually graze the streets of Milwaukee. We're silently hoping that he now grows past 4ft 11in*.

4. Umar's Ego Tamed. Come on! We all know how doctors are -- especially young & single ones! They love themselves and their lofty opinions more than I love my Google videos or blog! How absurd and cocky is that! So that being the current mindset Wisconsin will actually be good in taming his doctor ego. How so?! Well, consider this: In Chicago, if people ask you, "What do you do for a living?" and you reply, "I'm a doctor," they practically bow down to you! And especially if the person asking that question is a desi uncle or aunt! Seriously, they give that person a high level of regard; which I would argue is well-deserved (as long as the doc is not a jerk!).

But in Wisconsin, if people ask you, "Whatcha do for a livin', son?"
and you reply, "I'm a doctor," they laugh at you!

No joke! They laugh at you so much that you, a doctor, feel like you've just wasted a decade's worth of an intense education. Why do these people in Wisconsin laugh? It's because the only real position they have high regard for is someone who sells beer and peanuts (and that's not necessarily limited to ball parks in Wisconsin; hell, they're probably street vendors like that out there randomly roaming the streets of Madison, Milwaukee, and other hicksville towns!). So when Umar will, unfortunately, get laughed at so much out there in the boonies, he'll certainly come back to Chi Town downplaying his title ("Oh me? What do I do for a living? Well, I work at a hospital. Doing what? Err...I'm a clown. Yes, a clown. No, I'm not lying. I try to make people in hospitals feel better."**)

So, there you have it. An introductory list as to why Umar's move to Wisconsin is so key to his personal development and apparent "completion."

And just as long as he doesn't come back home with a flippin cheesehead, I'll still welcome him back...

---
* In case you are a girl (and a hot one at that), please note that Umar is not really 4 feet 11 inches.
** They just might give your due respect in Wisconsin if you say you're a clown, Umar.

Y'all come back now!

More of Me...

Hi

In efforts to keep you all updated in my own little world, you can now catch me on Google's Picasa Web.

Specifically at:
http://picasaweb.google.com/imran.shakur

Yes, another opportunity to look at me all day and all night long...

Holla

Shaykh Abdul Qadir Jilani (rh)

Bismillah ... As Salaamu Alaikoom wa Rahmatullah

Last Sunday on the 18th of June I had the tremendously beneficial priviledge of attending a class taught by the well-known and highly respected Mufti Abdurrahman ibn Yusuf (may Allah protect him). You may know of the dear, young shaykh from SunniPath fame or from his other endeavors such as Zam Zam Academy, White Thread Press, or Al-Rahman Books. If you don't, and if you're interested about Islam and increasing your own faith, I definitely recommend that you become familiar with any of those organizations inshaAllah.

The mufti's class was held at MSI in Glendale Heights and was filled with many students of knowledge and, notably, Shaykh Husain Sattar, too. Other than a "semi-personal" relationship with Shaykh Abdurrahman (hereforth Shaykh AR), I was mainly interested in the class based on the topic: Shaykh Abdul Qadir Jilani (rh).

Many a sufi tariqa/silsila is connected to this giant (rh) and thereby to the Prophet (sw) and ultimately to Allah (swt). It is a distinct honor for any mureed (student) to have such a connection and one that we are largely unappreciative and unworthy to have. In this blog entry, I will try to jot down some of the notes I took from the class with intention of inshaAllah benefitting myself and others. I pray to Allah that He accepts it and forgives me of any errors that I may have incorrectly interpreted and save me from any harm.

When Shaykh Jilani would speak people in the thousands would come to see him; so much that it would make the kings of those times jealous. So majestic and critical were his words that 400 ink pots would be used during his talks from students taking notes. Keep in mind that not everyone in these gathering would take notes either, telling you just how many would in fact attend his gatherings.

Shaykh Jilani had a great sense of responsibility and love towards humanity. It was this feeling that stopped him from living a reclusive life spent in worship of Allah. Had it not been for Allah wanting others to benefit from him, he would've readily led such a life.

Notable contemporaries of his time would say that Shaykh Jilani's duas (prayers) were readily (i.e. immediately) answered and that he was a person of karamat (miracles). But his greatest karamt was to fill the desparate's heart with iman. Actually, there would be hardly a sermon in which a non-Muslim would not convert. He was also given firasa, which is a deep, penetrating knowledge. This led Shaykh AR to relate the following beautiful story about Shaykh Jilani:

A bright light came to the shaykh one day and said to him, I am your Lord. I have made the unlawful lawful for you.

The shaykh replied, You are the devil.

The bright light then became dark and the shaytan then addressed Shaykh Jilani saying, The same ploy I used against you has worked on 70 mystics. God saved you because of you knowledge and piety.

SubhanAllah! I was blown away by that statement, but then I was speechless upon hearing the rest of the story:

Shaykh Jilani replied, It was the favor of Allah, not my knowledge or piety, that saved me.

What can you say about such a man (rh) that did in fact have such a level of firasa where he always knew his position in relation to that of our Creator? Let's just fool ourselves temporarily to think that we could reach a high level where the shaytan would say that Allah saved you because of your religiousness! Would you not have been quiet at that point and been content thinking that you just kicked the devil's butt in?! Shaykh Jilani's reply clearly showed what it means to submit yourself to Allah. May we all gain such hikmah and understanding. Ameen!

Shaykh AR then mentions how Shaykh Jilani once spoke about 5 types of men that enter a marketplace. When describing the 5th man, Shaykh Jilani said (of course, these are not quotes!): There is a 5th man whoe enters the marketplace with awe and perseverence of Allah. While making duas of repentence for the people in the market, his tongue remains in gratitude of Allah. He is not eluded by or tempted by the marketplace.

Umm...wow. Like, imagine yourself going to downtown to the Mag Mile on a summer afternoon. It's busy, there are thousands upon thousands of people buying and selling (and desis returning) items from stores, half naked and beautiful women walking about, refreshing (Jamba Juice), delicious (Grand Lux, Bandera, Cheesecake etc.), dessert (Ghiradelli, Australia)places to eat -- or binge -- at. I mean, I'm telling you that it's impossible that there would be someone like this 5th person who would be walking around making dua, doing dhikr, and yet being respectful towards Allah's creation in the middle of all that without thinking, That Foghorn at Ghiradellis would be pretty nice right now. Anyway, some say that this 5th person Shaykh Jilani described was a station that he himself had reached (thus the ability to describe such a person). Allahu akbar!

Mufti AR continued and spoke on the nature of wealth: So great is pure wealth in the hands of pious person. Otherwise, that money would be squandered. Today there seems to be a lack of taqwa, not a lack of money. Money causes you to become attracted to the world. That is its greatest temptation, I'd say. Mufti AR mentioned that Shaykh Jilani spoke to two groups: the affluent and the poor.

Think about being in a state of poverty for a second. I mean, I know it's hard to, but if you think of it, extreme poverty could relate to disbelief as a person may start to question things asking, "Why me?" Shaykh Jilani, however, would tell the poor that Don't say that Allah didn't give you wealth, fame, etc. You are like a fertile land upon which Allah sends seeds of knowledge and faith. It then develops into a tree bearing fruits with strong roots. Allah has instead made you a lord in the Hereafter as a reward for your sabr now. And those that are wealthy are like a barren land, not containing the same roots as you do because life has been easier for them; unless of course Allah provides spiritual light to them.

Shaykh Jilani didn't advocate to be poor, but to use wealth properly. The Prophet (Sw) said that the duniya (world) has been created for you; you have not been created for the duniya. In fact, the duniya is like a shadow. No matter how much you chase it, it will still be there. The wealth-poverty issue was then summarized by Mufti AR (through the teachings of Shaykh Jilani) in a very beautiful way:

Money can stand at the door of your heart, but should never enter.

SubhanAllah. "Spiritual" Muslims aren't saying that you should condemn your money, but that it should be used in the proper way (i.e., helping others) and that you should essentially control your money, not let your money/the duniya control you.

MashaAllah, Shaykh Jilani was given a long life and went through several Abassid caliphs. In fact, he lived for 90 years mashaAllah! As Shaykh AR said, if you read Shaykh Abdul Qadir Jilani's khutbahs today, you still feel the electricity contained within it. The fiqh he followed was Hanbali.

Mufti AR concluded by saying that we should take inspiration from people like Shaykh Abdal Qadir Jilani. In fact, we should encourage our children to get into the deen instead of constantly reinforcing a doctor/lawyer society. Nothing wrong with that, of course. And Shaykh AR didn't say that all of your kids should necessarily go that way, but consider this: If we problems with our health, there will always be a non-mumin doctor that will be there to see you. But if we have problems with our iman and our scholarship, we should not be seeing a non-mumin; otherwise we have bigger problems to deal with.

Shaykh AR book recommendation: Saviors of Islamic Spirit (author = Nadwi). It's a book that talks about Islamic figures after the time of the Sahaba (rh), where so many lessons were learned.

Final remarks by Shaykh AR: There is Islam and then Muslims. This is Allah's deen. He (swt) is NOT in need of any of us. Allah always brings someone up for reviving the Islamic spirit. It's important to note that it's not our ability that accomplishes things. Look at Pharaoh. He had tremendous ability such that he convinced a nation of people that he was God. But, in the end, his ability was not accepted by Allah. You have an ability. Use that ability to be blessed. Ask Allah for baraqa and baraqa in your abilities.

My notes on Shaykh Aburrahman ibn Yusuf:
As a mufti, he of course mashaAllah has a great memory. He actually remembered me, despite only meeting me once (maybe twice) a few years ago. Granted, on a very infrequent occassion, i do email him, but regardless of that, I saw him 'in action' as he would approach others and say, "Didn't you once ask me about such-and-such?" The one questioned would reply, "Umm, yeah, but that was a looong time ago." MashaAllah! He completely followed the sunnah in making the person he spoke to feel as though he was his closest student and friend; at least this is how I felt when he talked to me. He also has a look much like Owais Qadri has in my opinion; one who is simply in love with Allah and His Messenger (sw) and through that love embodies it in a feverishly contagious manner. May Allah protect these amazing people. Allah huma salay Allah Muhammad. Ameen.

Fi Aman Allah.

Lock Your Computers At Work!

Hey

So we have an official corporate IT policy stating that anytime you leave your comp, you are required to lock it. Many companies have this as a standard to ensure security is intact. It's actually a good policy to have because you never know just who might want to look at your Outlook Inbox and send random emails to random people. Plus, if you have clients walking about you never want to them accidentally look at your computer screen to find confidential information. That would suck.

Having said all that, many employees at work rarely lock their computers; including yours truly. So a week or so ago I left my computer to take care of something without thinking twice of locking it. When I get back I notice a couple weird email replies from some co-workers. One was from my roommate (the guy I share my office with) and it was in response to an email that I apparently sent him:

Subject: RE: F@#! you Nick
Body: Imran, what'd I do to you?

Another came from this guy who I played (and lost to, unfortunately) one-on-one with:

"Re: Matt is a pansy"

That second email that I allegedly wrote was a little bit more lengthy and went along the lines of making fun of Matt's game and other things. His response was not so nice and largely unappropriate for this blog (mama jokes, man ... the worst!).

I wasn't overly worried, though, because these were guys I'm really cool with and I knew that one of them obviously accessed my email while I went away. I eventually found out that it was our QA (quality assurance) manager of all people! He later came by with his trademark big ol' grin and said, "Someone didn't lock their computer now did they?!" Ouch. Lesson learned. He later joked around (at least I hoped he was joking around) that he was about to send an email to our COO saying, "You're the best" or "I love you" since everyone has the impression that I'm the COO's boy (ever since the COO defended me in an email to the Chicago office saying, 'Imran is on my very short list of people I like' after the office gave me a hard time for replying all to an email joke of his where I said, 'Kevin, that was the best email ever' -- I did mean it at the time and wasn't trying to kiss up to him, honestly!).

Anyway, you could imagine that ever since then I've locked my computer, even if out of mistrust of my roommate for allowing it to happen! But I'd have my revenge on him...

On Friday my roomie left for lunch and didn't lock his computer either; something he doesn't do too often himself. So the QA Manager pops by our room and we started talking about sports as usual. Towards the end of the convo he said that he actually came up to get some from from Nick, so we tried looking around his desk for it. The astute QA mgr noticed, however, that Nick's computer was unlocked. "Are you kidding me?!" he reacted. Without hesitation, and with me laughing in the background, he begins writing an email on behalf of Nick to about six or seven of the guys in the office. The now classic email went like this:

Subject Line: I am coming out...

Body: Out of the closet that is!!! I will be competing in the Gay Games this weekend. I hope you guys can come and support me!

Nick's reaction was priceless when he got back to read the email he sent and so was the other guys' responses: "Umm...come again?!", "You just never know these days anymore...", "Good luck in the 'pole' vault competition", etc. You should note that Nick is a happily married heterosexual. But what was great about that Gay Games comment is the timing. This weekend in Chicago the gay parade is taking place, so it could've actually added some credibility to it.

Okay, so the lessons were learned. I know that on a serious note you could get royally screwed or even fired for these type of things at work. Fortunately for me, though, it was the flippin QA manager that did it of all people! ;)

Cheers

Phil Mickelson's Blog

Hi

During the recent disappointing US Open, instead of planning or strategizing his next moves, Phil Mickelson was busy attending to his BlackBerry. Why?

To make updates to his blog.

I kid you not! Via his blog, he gave the at-home golf or Mickelson fan progress reports. And I have to say that the guy is absolutely hysterical. Check out excerpts ESPN got:

http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/page2/story?page=gallo/060619

As a note: I couldn't actually find Phil's blog. Granted, not being a huge golf or Mickelson fan, I didn't conduct an in-depth search for it, but Mickelson's official website just might've been the interface for it. Regardless, the ESPN author who produced the column does in fact contribue to the usually entertaining (but sometimes raunchy) The Onion. I think the Mickelson blog updates are true, but read anyway because it is funny.

Later

D-Wade Won The NBA Finals

Hi

What an amazing series and sensational way to breathe some life back into the NBA. As you know, Dwyane Wade beat the Dallas Mavericks in stunning fashion on 6.20.2006 for their his NBA title.

Okay, okay. I should say Dwyane Wade & the Miami Heat beat the Mavs, but you know what I mean. As one who hates drawing comparisons between any player and MJ, Wade made me at least think about it during the last four games of the NBA Finals. His ~34 pt average and 4th quarter heroics were incredible.

I mean, we're talking about the future face of the NBA here, folks.

Granted, I may be slightly caught up with D-Wade hysteria right now, but you honestly can't blame me. I don't think Dallas fans could blame me either. Right before presenting Wade with the NBA Finals MVP, the Dallas fans were booing as much as possible. And as Wade was interviewed, there was a relative pin drop silence out of, what I would like to think, was awe and respect for the young, new NBA hero.

I guess I should mention here that Miami Heat's Championship also means that its Alonzo Mourning's and Gary Payton's first, finally, championship ring (last??). Think whatever you want of these two and especially GP, but you can't deny them that they have not deserved this over the course of their impressive and Hall of Fame-worthy careers. I'm happy for them. And I'm more so happy for Zo. Did you see the way he played tonight? Seizures aside (you may recall his nasty block that propelled him to the floor causing him to shake his body in alarming fashion out of excitement), the guys 5 or so blocks were emphatic.

I also have to give props to Shaq. During subsequent interviews following the Heat's victory, he credited Flash (Wade) with being the best player, the future of the NBA, and essentially the main reason why they won. He said that he himself played a support role and him understanding that is pretty cool considering his stature in the game.

Your heart does go out to Dallas, though. They unfortunately had their scoring droughts that Miami would take advantage of and run with, but they were still contenders in most of the games (except Game 4). And you also have to factor their inexperience at this level. These guys are young and will not in the forseeable future face problems that Miami will (i.e. building a new, young team around Wade). You can expect them to return to the NBA Finals soon...

Well, that's pretty much it. I guess on a final note, I can somewhat proudly say that the Bulls at least lost to the 'World' Champions.

The picture below (courtesy ESPN) will probably best describe Wade's sense of determination, drive, and ultimate reason why the Miami Heat prevailed:



Booyah!

Dawah to a Blonde...

Salaam

...I have a problem. Our intern (= administrative pawn) at work happens to be very attractive. And blonde. And hot. And hot. Not to mention very hot. I know what you're thinking, "And how, exactly, is that a problem, Imran?" Well, the "problem" is that I'm not sure what approach to dawah I should take in order for me to marry her (see, I'm trying to be as halal about this as possible).

So anyway, being inexperienced at this, I naturally turned to the advice of my friends who are perhaps better versed in dawah techniques. After studying a plethora of methodologies, I've broken it down to the following approaches:

1. Farooq Alikhan Dawah: "Salaam. Damn, you're hot. I'm a baller. Marry me and convert. Thanks."

2. Taha Ghani Dawah: "Salaaaaamzz. Damn, I'm hot. Convert and I just might marry you. Or at least flirt."

3. Ahmed Hassan Dawah: "Hey, how you doin? Me? I'm a doctor, babe. I save lives and wanna save yours from hell."

4. Badie Ali Dawah: "As Salaamu Alaikoom wa Rahmatullahi wa Barakatahu. Kayfahalaqa, habibi? And by the way, I'm the operations director of a major media conglomerate. Yeah, I can pencil you in for a nikkah."

5. Aladdin Nasr Dawah: "Salaamz! I'll build you a mansion and let you look at my massive chest if you convert. Holla!"

6. AJ Dawah: "As Salaamu Alaikoom. I just audited some of the work you did and, well, let's just say if you don't convert and marry Imran, you're going to have bigger problems on your plate..."

Eventually I'll implement one of the above mentioned techniques. In the meantime, Farooq gave me the following immediate advice:

"You will need to attach a picture so that we can evaluate her 'hotness' and determine what form of dawah needs to be implemented here....certain test subjects only respond to particular forms of dawah and so proper analysis is necessary for a successful deployment of services."

Note: The above is actually based on excerpts taken from email correspondences throughout the work day. You could say I was bored, overly excited, and a definite loser. Me? I'd rather say that I just need to get married, yo!!

Later

Entertaining Links

Hi All

Check out these links:

Diet Coke & Mentos: What happens when these two things react with one another? Think Vegas...

Dancing Machine: A comedian does an awesomely entertaining job going dancing through music from back-in-the-day old school stuff (Elvis) to today's hits & hip-hop (Jay-Z). Definitely check it out...

And always of interest to me is the ongoing developments in the Middle East...
Qatar: The Next Dubai?


Word to your mother

Fishing: The Final Frontier (Part Three; Final)

*** continued from previous post - part 2 ***

So, like, getting into a boat and trying to get yourself at least twenty feet away from the shoreline is a lot more difficult than you would think. Well, at least if you're with Taha and Ahmed. I thought they would be pros at steering a boat being as they are from STL where the only fun thing they have is going up and down some stupid arch. In fact, I figured that fishing while growing up in Missouri was like the equivalent of going to Great America. I was wrong...

The ever macho Taha thought he could easily paddle us out of the shoreline area. After making us go sideways at one point, backwards another, and then nowhere fast on another occassion, I finally showed him how to maneuvre with the oars. I totally made it seem like I was the resident Boating 101 teacher, even though I had no clue what I was doing myself. But my method worked and of course Taha quickly grabbed the oars back so that credit for getting us out there could go to him. Kudos, Taha.

While I was battling with Taha on that front, Hassan faced his own battles with jump starting the motor. Not having a suture, stethascope, or bottle of Tylenol posed as a daring new challenge for the young doctor. To his credit, the three of us combined couldn't figure it out. Some young white teenager by the shoreline saw us having difficulty with it (or perhaps heard us yelling at one another on how to get the motor started) and so he told us the secret: Put the motor into the water and turn the handle up or down. Or something like that anyway. The point here is that thanks to Hassan NOT being able to figure it out, we looked like desi uncles lost without their wives' cooking. And so finally we cruised at a rip roaring 5, maybe 10, miles per hour (it was a small motor) into our fishing spot.

Okay, so you should know that when I say fishing "spot," I really mean the entire lake. We would stay in one area for a maximum of 15 minutes. We'd get impatient and cruise again. Often times, our cruising would come to a halting stop as we immersed ourselves into a coral reef (i.e. really thick seaweed). Our next struggle came with hooking our juicy nightcrawlers onto the fishing hooks. Hassan and I were able to master this fairly quickly. The ever so macho Taha, on the other hand, was entirely clueless. Where Hassan and I would talk and relax for hours and hours with our fishing hook and bait in the water, drinking a nice cold beer...oh wait, this isn't a Budweiser commercial...you could find Taha wrestling with the worms. In the end, he'd just ask me to hook the worm on. I think that day, at least 15 worms died in vain at the finger tips of Taha Ghani...

After patting ourselves on the shoulders for learning how to control a boat and hook fish, the next task was learning how to cast a line. Hey, don't laugh! It's not as simple as the guys on ESPN's bass pro fishing make it seem out to be! Well, I'm happy to say that making up for his lack of engineering knowledge, AH came through like a champ when it came to hooking a line. He was the first one to cast the line more than a foot away from the boat and his last cast went out for something ridiculous like 500 feet or so. Me and Taha did fairly well ourselves; though Ahmed would never admit to it. In fact, anytime Taha or I would stand up to cast the line, Hassan would duck underneath the seats in the boat in fear of getting his eyeball hooked. Eventually, he soon began to trust our abilities. Except, perhaps, for when Taha would consistently get his fish line stuck in ours. Like every other casting attempt.

I was beginning to think that Taha truly fit the saying, "Fish out of water."

But I am getting ahead of myself. This time to Taha's credit, he did land the first bite of the day. We were goofing off as usual and Taha suddenly realized that his fish line had some tension to it and the little ball thingy (oh yeah, I'm a real professional fisherman) that keeps the worm floating went underneath the water. "I caught something!" he reacted.

"What?! Hell no!" came AH's and mine reaction at the same time. "Reel it in, dude!"

And for a good 30 seconds Taha fought an intense war against, presumably, a catfish. Unfortunately, however, when the hero brought the line in, he brought in an empty hook. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, the fish beat Taha in a tug-of-war match. It had succeeded in ripping the worm right off the hook and had somehow managed avoiding getting a hook pierced through its mouth. Our bubble of hope and joy was popped. But only for a moment...

"If Taha got something, there's gotta be more fish out here hungry & waiting!" I declared. Immediately the three of us hooked some more nightcrawlers and casted our lines again in eager anticipation. We waited. And waited. And waited. 10 minutes later Hassan spoke up, "Cap'n. Take us to the fricken fishies."

You're right in thinking that the "Cap'n" was, still is, and will always be none other than yours truly. We eventually incorporated a Star Trek-like image of ourselves. I was Captain Picard. Hassan was LaForge in Engineering. And Taha was Number One/Lt Worf. If you don't know what I'm talking about, then you may as well do something more productive like reading this.

Okay, now that you're back (long live Knight Rider!)...

So hearing, "Cap'n. Take us to the fricken fishies" became a redundant phrase throughout the rest of the voyage. We were not catching anything at all. What was worse was that we noticed some girl caught a huge fish not but a 100 feet away from us. And she was standing on the shore, too. So being typical desis at that moment, we were inspired to 'accidentally' let our boat float in that direction where the girl caught the fish. Sure, the look we got from her and her family was embarassing, but at that point, we were getting desperate. I mean, we did pretty much everything you could do on a boat:

Bonding. Taha and AH were able to psychoanalyze one another by delving into such topics as, "Who's shadier? Taha or Ahmed?" and "In relation to the two going out the previous night and not hanging out was Ahmed a) really, really mad at Taha? b) mad at Taha? c) somewhat mad at Taha? d) unsure of what he felt towards Taha? or e) okay with Taha?" I think they both used me that day to purposely get the other person out in the middle of a lake to address these issues while I played the role of Dr. Phil.

Hunting. Oh, yes, we were hunters that day, too, folks. When things weren't going our way, we looked for geese or ducks that were hanging out and minding their own business in the water. Without hesitation, I'd give Ahmed the order, "Engage!" and the next second we were in full pursuit of trying to catch up to a duck or goose. Much to our surprise, we'd come fairly close to the bird before it would finally fly away (most likely to Florida as I'm sure we permanentely scarred many a bird that day). ;)

Fishing. Yes, we did fish on that day and we did catch something. Check out this beauty Taha caught:

That's right, baby! Seaweed guck!

That pretty much ended our trip. We got back home for maghrib, prayed, and then ate a nice home cooked meal. Taha, Ahmed, and my brothers continuously made fun of me in front of my mom and I'd have my fair share of getting back at them, too. We were going to watch Mission Impossible III but both STL guys were tired and headed back. So I thought...

15 minutes after leaving, Ahmed calls me and tells me that he's headed back because he refuses to leave Pleasantville/Plainville (they never quite get my hometown name right) unless we go watch MI:3. I was totally like, "Done and Done." So they came back and Ahmed runs up to my bedroom without warning. I thought to use my bathroom, but after a few minutes for waiting on him, Taha and I go upstairs to check to see if he was still alive. Lo and behold! There was Ahmed in my bed resting. Soon enough, after we wrestled him out of there, we concluded the evening by watching MI:3. It was a great day that these words do no justice of!

I'll let some more pics do the talking below. And most definitely go to http://video.google.com and in the search field type in the following: imran shakur fishing. You will not be disappointed folks!

Peace out, A-Town.

Fishing: The Final Frontier (Part Deux)

*** continued from previous post ***

Ahmed Hassan had nothing to say to my tirade. No response. Nothing but a sheepish and empty smile. He looked back down to the sidewalk in hopes of finding some sort of solace in the concrete pavement. It wasn't stupid for him to do that actually. For the callousness in my heart for him at that moment would make any man, woman, child, or living creature want to throw themselves into the abyss of a never-ending water well.

I forced myself to look away from his pitiful state and cast my gaze elsewhere. Taha was walking with the other defeated foe a few paces ahead of us. As if he knew that I was looking at him, he turned around and walked up to me and in a quiet whisper said, "Imran, I'll be there no matter what. Ahmed Hassan or no Ahmed Hassan. Rain or sunshine. Taking a train or stealing Hassan's ride. Halwa puri or no halwa puri."

The last statement, while making no sense whatsoever at the time, implied that Taha was serious about fishing. Dead serious.

I gave AH one last sneering look. "Thanks, T-Man. I know at least I can count on someone here." At that moment I decided not to let Hassan's dis affect me. It's not like this would be his first time. Besides, fishies had awaited me the next day...

***

"BAACHOO!!!" my mom yelled from downstairs on a bright and beautiful Saturday morning. "Vake up! Imran, get up and mow the lawn you fat cat!" Groan! Do I always have to wake up every weekend morning to hearing that?! She continued, "Chalo! Get up now, puthr-gee. Aghar nay ready hogaya dus minute kae undhar, thou phir dhaykna kya hotha hae tujko!" Uh oh. She threw in some Punjabi in that wake up call; my mom meant business. I shot out of bed and ran downstairs.

After mowing the lawn, I got the phone call from Taha. He was on his way to the train station. What a trooper! One of his closest friends [Ahmed] lives 2 minutes away from him and could at a minimum at least drop him off at the station, but was too friggen lazy to do even that. Kashmiris!

Okay. I realize that some of you reading this might be thinking by now that 1) Imran is a sensitive little girl or 2) Imran is a jerk. Well, you're wrong about that second one. Oh, and the first one, too. I'm a nice guy. My ripping on Ahmed Hassan pales into compairson on what he would to do me mentally later that Saturday afternoon. Read on...

Anyway, after speaking with Taha, he confirmed that he'd arrive at the train station around 1:30. His loyalty was not to go unrecognized. This time, for once, I'd make sure that I was going to pick him up on time...

So around 1:25 I was ready to go pick him up (yes, leaving around that time would in fact mean that I was going to be late again; some habits will never die out I'm afraid, Taha). But before leaving Taha sent me a text reading, "Train delay. About another 45min - 1 hr." Oh well, we still had access to the fishing resort until sunset. Plenty of time. I text back, "No worries. Cheers."

Meanwhile, back at the batcave, Mom was cooking up a storm. Saag and this special type of roti/paratha thingy that goes with it. I had to resist so I could wait and eat with Taha. This day was becoming more and more taxing. First the lawn mowing, then Taha's train delay, and now resisting taza kana!

So an hour passes and no word from Taha. He was to text me when he got closer to the Lisle train station. My mom told me to just start eating and that Taha can eat when he gets back or I could take him somewhere to eat out. Done and done. I sat down with the family at the breakfast table and began the feasting. 20 min into the food, I get a phone call. The caller ID read

Ahmed STL

So it's you? You're calling me up now, huh? I wasn't in the mood to pick up my cell. I wouldn't let some pathetic apology stop me from killing my now rolled up saag burrito. Nor was I to give him that satisfaction. I let the phone ring until for my voicemail to pick up. A few seconds later, however, the house phone rang. Hassan was persistent. Ali picked it up and after confirming it was AH, proceeded towards handing the phone to me. I tried to silently jump up and down on the table to let Ali know that I wasn't available (the table is still in tact). And in true brotherly fashion, Ali ignored my pleas and handed the phone to me.

"Hello?" I asked, playing innocent.

"Dude, so what's going on for today? Are we doin it or not?" Ahmed asked.

Are we doin it or not?! ARE WE DOIN IT OR NOT?!! Was he serious?! "Umm, yeah, dude. Taha is on his way, but since you're a sellout, he's coming by himself."

"Wait, Taha left already?"

"Uh, yes. Dude, you told me that you didn't want to come because you wanted to relax on your day off, doctor sahab."

Ahmed got annoyed, "Dude, I never said that. We never talked about it. You said you'd give me a call this morning. And, wait, why the hell would Taha leave on his own? What's up with that? He didn't tell me!"

I could tell that his tone was getting more and more serious. But I wasn't 100% sure. So I laughed it off and said, "Bro! First, I did send you a text message earlier today. But last night you kept telling me that you didn't want to come. What was I supposed to think? And as for Taha..."

"Is he pissed at me," Ahmed asked cutting me off. "What did he say?"

"Dude, relax, bro. What was he supposed to do if you weren't going to come?"

"Yeah, but for him not to even call me up. How shady is that? I mean, if you two wanted to go fishing yourselves, then you should have just told me!"

At this point, I headed upstairs so I wouldn't bother my family at the table. I got into my room and closed the door (saag burrito still in hand, of course). "Ahmed. What are you talking about, dude? Of course we wanted you there. But after last night, what were we supposed to do when you kept saying that you weren't in the mood to come out? I mean..."

Cut off again. "But that's just it! How could you not at least call and just say..."

"Bro, I sent the text message this morning and you didn't respond! And on top of that I talked to Taha earlier today and he told me that you two went out last night after hoops and you told him that you probably weren't going to come!"

"Dude, whatever! This is such crap. I never said that. I can't believe this." He sounded like he was either going to bust through my phone and ring my neck or bust out crying. I was actually starting to feel bad. Did he have a point?

No, he didn't. I reminded myself, This is Rico Suave himself. Like many a fine girl, I was not going to fall to this. Patiently, I responded, "Hassan. Look. Taha is stuck on the train. He won't get here for another 45 minutes. You can easily drive down here in that time and we'll all go together."

"No! That's not even the point. I mean, I could get ready and meet you guys there, but obviously you don't even want me to be there. I can't believe Taha. He must be pissed off at me for some reason. Did he say anything to you?"

You mean other than you're a flippin smelly little sellout? "No, man. Never. What are you talking about, bro? Trust me, he's definitely not pissed off. And we both wanted you to come. Why else do you think I was giving you such a hard time last night? The three of us had planned this together. Just come by."

Hassan sounded a little less tense. "Oh, I'll come. Just for the principle of it now. But I can't believe you guys would just go plan this without me! I can't believe Taha wouldn't just call me up before he left for the train station. And I just tried calling him and he didn't answer the phone. WTF? He has to be mad at me. Or you. Whatever. Anyway, how do you get to your place again?"

"Take 55. Exit off of Plainfield Rd and blah, blah, blah. But, dude, we don't want you to be upset when you're here. And I'm sure Taha just missed your call or maybe he just doesn't get any reception in the train." Frick! This guy was so upset and now the bachara bucha was going to drive all the way down despite this poor planning. I felt bad that we didn't do more. (Yes, reader, I inevitably gave into AH as you would have, too.)

"We'll see. It's just that I can't believe you especially would do this, Imran. Taha's pissed off, so, whatever. But you, Imran? Wait, so I take a left onto what street again to get to your place?"

"127th. And then you'll see the subdivision sign. Take another left. Bro, we seriously weren't trying to ignore you, man. Come on. You know I got mad love for you."

"Yeah, well whatever..." he said in an irate manner again. We had violated his trust. We somehow hurt him on the inside so badly he couldn't finish his sentence. I was worried if our friendship would ever be the same. If the three of us would be able to ever reach the heights of brotherhood like we once did only 24 hours ago.

"Bro, come on..." DIING DOONG!! It was the doorbell. "You can't be that mad. We still..." Wait a second! The doorbell? A light bulb just turned on. Didn't AH just ask me what street to...

I ran downstairs, phone still to my ear, "IF that's you, I'm gonna..."

Hassan started yelling, "What are you talking about! Dude? What the hell? You're just gonna yell at me now? What the..." But it was too late. I jumped over the last few steps and ran to the door and swung it open.

There in front of me was Rico Suave himself. Accompanying him was his indelible little grin that screamed, "Gotcha, fool." And in the background was Taha. I had just fallen to perhaps one of the world's oldest pranks of all time. The good old You-Don't-Think-I'm-Actually-Going-To-Miss-Out-On-This-Fishing-Trip-Adventure-Do-You? prank. Works everytime...

"YOU FRICKEN #$@#$&*@!!" I yelled while pushing and punching him at the same time. "You're such a punk, man! You should've just kept driving South to Saint Louis!"

Taha -- holding his stomach from all the laughter -- said, "I can't believe you actually fell for that! Especially while he was yelling at you and asking for directions, too!" There was much LOL-ing on their part. Rightfully, so, I guess. This was, afterall, the second time these guys did something like this to me. The first was around my birthday when the weather downtown was horrendous. There was a nasty blizzard that made a normal five minute drive into 45 minutes (no exaggeration). Regardless, Ahmed and Taha said that they'd come and take me out to Bandera, so I was to go meet them there directly. On the way there, Ahmed called me and told me that he got into a bad accident and, just like on this fishing prank, he sounded very serious and extremely upset (he has an Acura TL mashaAllah). The prank became more complex when he had expected me to pay for the damage since, as per his logic, he was coming out to see me. I'm not cheap, but I'm also not a baller so I had to be as political about it as possible. After getting off the phone with an infuriated Hassa, I quickly called up Taha about it and suggested that Hassan should first talk to his insurance, but even Taha was on his side, which made me believe the story even more (note to self: stop believing everything Taha tells you). Anyway, when I got off the phone with Taha I started heading into the restaurant. The next thing I see as I headed in was that same indelible little grin on Ahmed as he waited for me inside with Taha. They had been there the entire time. Naturally, an ensuing snowball fight had broken out after that.

Continuing...

After chillaxing around the house for an hour, we were finally on our way. Despite my repeated efforts in forcing Taha & AH to have some food at the crib, we ended up at the local Wendy's. Of course, they kept giving me a hard time about me finishing up that saag burrito in front of them (saag also happens to be Taha's favorite dish), but they didn't want my mom to make more food. So Taha and Ahmed instead enjoyed Wendy's dollar menu by pretty much ordering everything on it. I also allowed myself to indulge a refreshing Frosty.

About 15 minutes later, we arrived. Plainfield Fishing Resort. Destiny had finally greeted us.

*** to be continued ***