Monday, April 13, 2015


INTRODUCTION: Greetings everyone, hope all is well at your end :-) Today I would like to share one of the entries of my daughter's diary, when she was 9 months old, written from her perspective! Hope you enjoy, thanks! :-) Ramla Zareen. 


(From 6 Months To 12 Months Old)

October, 2012, when 9 months old

Dear Diary


The concept of 'giving up' is totally alien to my nature. I firmly believe that if the faith is strong, the intention pure, the will invincible, and the cause worthy, then with Allah's help, one can always achieve success. It is also my opinion that if one method to attain one's heart's desire fails then a human mind is fully capable of coming up with an alternative plan, without resorting to dishonest means as a shortcut to gain.
I am speaking somewhat from experience.
My destination was a black wire hanging from one end of the laptop charger attached to the socket in the corner of our living room.
The biggest obstacle was that I could not even crawl properly, let alone walk.
However, I did not let that discourage me. I began dragging myself towards the object of my desire. The problem with that was that I just kept spinning off in another direction or ended up moving backward in a haphazard manner. Eventually I did manage to reach a corner of the room. Unfortunately, it was not the correct one. By now, a less determined person would have been distracted by easily accessible toys scattered throughout the room. Or would have been led astray by the brightly coloured book that had fallen from the sofa onto the floor. Actually, I did send a second and even a third glance to the book when I remembered how much fun it had been to chew the glossy pages of the magazine the other day. But then mama picked up the book and started reading it. Oh well, maybe some other time. After all, there was no lack of books and magazines in our home. Besides, I am a very focused individual.
I wanted to chew that wire.
For some reason, I have become very fascinated by wires.
I just hope that my family and friends are broadminded enough to stomach me as an electrician...! 
Though of course, I am reasonable enough to accept that I am far too young to make a major decision like that at this point in my life, and should first see the rest of the interesting things that the world has to offer, before committing myself to specific career path.
Well, coming back to the original topic...
Nor was I cowed by mama's strictly uttered "Aisha...!" or the accompanying 'warning look' that she bestowed upon me. My wonderfully perceptive mama, at least where I am concerned, inspite of being engrossed in her book, instinctively sensed that I was in a naughty mood. Though thankfully she had no definite knowledge of my actual intentions.
So anyway, I took a tiny break and racked my brain. Surely I could concoct some scheme that would enable me to reach that wire? A sudden idea illuminated my mind.
And I started rolling through the room. 
First I would turn on my tummy, then on my back, then again on my tummy and so on. Halfway across my destination, I became entangled with my spiel platz (play pen). You know, the one that has a colourful mat with pictures below and animal-type rattlers etc hanging from the four supporting poles. If I were not so stubborn, I might have lost heart at that point and given up. However, the phrase 'obstinate as a mule' was coined for people like me. In fact, I am sure that the only reason people use 'mule' instead of 'baby' is because they do not want to scare off potential parents. 
Anyway, I was not going to let a minor set-back prevent me from chewing that wire. I thought again. Sometimes one also needs a bit of family support to accomplish one's goals. One should never be ashamed or hesitant of seeking assistance from a loved one and always be generous with one's own aid whenever required. I let out a loud howl that caused my mama to jump up from the sofa where she was enjoying her evening tea with the book. She soon freed me and put me in my car-seat. I yelled again. Really, sometimes the efforts of even well-meaning family members can be a source of hindrance instead of help. It took few tears and some more mournful wailing to make my mama understand that I wanted to be put back on the floor.
I once again began rolling towards the wire. I turned on my stomach, then on my back, then again on my stomach, then again on my back and then just as I was again turning back onto my stomach I bumped my head against the rocking car-seat that was next to the sofa. I didn't want to attract mama's attention so I suppressed the urge to yell out in pain. Instead I gritted my teeth and began rolling again.
I wanted that wire even if it killed me.
By the way, when I say 'gritted my teeth' I am speaking figuratively. I have only two teeth. And even they are not properly grown as yet. They started to grow about two weeks before. I know this because ever since two tiny white dots appeared on my lower front gums, mama started making me open my mouth wide and peering inside to check.  She does this about six to nine times a day. Now that they are half-way up, she spends hours trying to take their photo but I either don't open my mouth wide enough for the camera or happen to close my mouth at the wrong moment or my tongue seems to hide my teeth. She finally managed to take a couple of photos but she is not completely satisfied with them. However, being my mother, she hasn't given up, and is still trying to take a 'perfect' photo of my teeth. Honestly, I think that mama is more excited about my first teeth than I am...!
But I digress.
As I was saying, I continued to advance towards that wire. I was almost there. Then I got stuck halfway under the sofa. Ignoring my predicament, I tried to yank at the wire and then stopped. Mama had seen me. Blissfully unaware of my intention, she thought that I looked cute and took my photo. Then she freed me and went back to her tea and book. She had put me back on the floor within touching distance from the wire. So I grabbed at it and put it inside my mouth. I was just beginning to chew when mama let out a startled gasp.
I was caught in the act.
To say merely that mama was 'not amused' would be a gross understatement. Her sense of humour and overwhelming love that usually comes to my rescue when I am indulging in an activity that is considered inappropriate in the adult world was sorely absent from her demeanor on this occasion. The sobering truth was that mama was genuinely horrified. I was secured in the knowledge of mama's unwavering love, and yet, not being used to having her scold me severely, my face crumpled up, my lips parted, my mouth twisted into a beginning of what would have been an agonized bout of crying, and a tear started to sparkle in my screwed up eyes that looked at mama with a wounded expression. But before I could make a single sound, I guess mama started feeling remorseful because she abruptly stopped, apologized and hugged me. I felt solemn as I realized that she had been provoked into an uncharacteristic outburst because she had been afraid that I might get hurt. I instantly forgave her with an innocent smile and lovingly cooed "akaaaaan". She sighed and hugged me some more. 
Then she pointed at the wire, tapped on my hand and shook her fore-finger, several times, all the while saying, 'no, no, no'. I guess she was trying to follow Khizran Anee's (mama's friend in Germany) admirable advice on how to raise me so that I become as well-mannered and obedient as her son Danish. As if I was going to be so easy to discipline. It's not that I condone defiance and rebelliousness. It's only that I am a high-spirited girl with a mind of my own. A strong, intelligent and independent mind. And an indomitable will to fulfill passionate desires. My heart is tender and loving though, and I can be extremely sensitive. Combine all this with the fact that my parents adore me, and that mama in particular, hates to see me cry, and even though tears appear to have no effect on papa but a smile and an innocent look can work wonders with him, and well, I envision some tough times ahead. For my parents. I think mama realized all this because to be on the safe side she also took out that charger from the socket and put it back inside the cupboard. She deemed it harmful for me and didn't want to risk me getting an electric shock. 
I am not aware of what is the usual reaction of a person who has managed to achieve his dream after immense struggle and then have had it snatched away from him. All I know is that I immediately vowed to myself that I will wait for the next time when mama or papa forgets the charger in the socket. No matter how long it takes.
I will have that wire again.
Couple of days later, papa left the cell-phone charger in the socket. Moreover, it escaped mama's usually vigilant eyes. Taking advantage of the unique strategy that I had devised, that is, rolling when having difficulties in crawling, I began moving towards it. But then I caught sight of mama's black walking shoes with the orange laces. I could hardly believe my eyes. Mama had forgotten to put them in the shoe rack. She must have been having an off-day. I laid down on my stomach in the middle of the room as I contemplated the unexpected situation. 
I looked at the cell phone charger with intense longing. The black wire hanging from one end looked so tempting.
I wanted that wire.
I gazed yearningly at the shoes with orange laces at the other side of the room. It's not that I am weak-of-purpose, easily-diverted baby. It's just that I don't believe in being obtusely rigid. Tenacious, I may be, but I know that sometimes it's better to be flexible and adaptable. Besides, I am certainly capable enough to recognize a once in a life-time opportunity when it's staring me right in the face. I mean, even if mama never leave her laptop charger lying about again, it's very probable that papa would forget his cell-phone charger in the socket repeatedly in the near future. Then there is a lamp on the floor next to the side-table in our bedroom. That has a wire. The pedestal fan and the radio clock also have wires. So I would have plenty of other chances of getting a wire. But could I depend upon mama leaving out her expensive shoes again? Besides, those orange shoelaces looked so appealing. I was sure that they would taste yummy.
I wanted to chew those orange shoelaces. 
I eagerly began rolling. First on my back, then on my tummy, then again on my back and so on. I was almost there. I crashed into the T.V rack. This time I decided not to miss out on a deserving huggie and kissie from mama. That's why I did not resist the impulse to cry. As expected, my mama rushed over and took me in her arms. I let myself be comforted in record time. I did not want her concern to lengthen into a decision to take me away to her side. Soon I was again on my way towards the shoes. I turned myself on my back with a stronger force than usual and hurt my head on the wooden floor. I gritted my teeth again, and persistently continued.
I wanted those shoes even if it killed me.
More to the point, I coveted those orange laces.
Mama was walking around the room, tidying up. I glanced at her warily, held my breath and hoped that she would overlook the shoes. A that very moment, she looked at the clock on the T.V rack near me, came over to me, gave me a quick kissie and went to the kitchen. Presumably to shut down the stove or something. Anyway, when she came back after few minutes, one shoe was in my hands and the orange laces in my mouth.
I gave mama a wide, happy smile.
I had been right.
The orange laces were delicious.
But next time, I will have that wire.
For now, I'll just roll over to where mama is and tug at her dress. She is sure to give me a tight huggie and loving kissies.
I need that huggie and those kissies.
And I know that she does too...!

Everyone who reads this entry, please pray that InshAllah may Allah bless me and my mama and papa with a long and healthy life and eternal happiness (Amin)

Allah Hafiz


Those interested to read the complete diary are most welcome to do so by clicking here...! Hope you enjoy, thanks! :-)



  1. Very nice diary. Enjoyed reading it. I join in your prayers.