Ah Frosh Week *nodding*...
What more needs to be said. Our group (Group Seventeen) butchered the rest of the Froshies in EVERY EVENT! From the Amazing Race to the Dance Off. Yes...we had a dance off. Thankfully (for everyone else) I didn't end up dancing. Its been a wild 3-Day Blitz of activity. I've pretty much lost my voice and basic motor functions due to sheer exhaustion, excitement and the general buzz of activity that is Frosh. Endless chants, parades, ragging and attitude checks. Still, It WAS AWESOME and I have no doubt in my mind that memories of Frosh will keep me from losing my mind during mid-terms. Totally worth meeting the people, especially our Group Leaders.
We even ended up raising some money for Cystic Fibrosis Research through the annual Shinerama Event that has been integrated into the Frosh week at UTSC (as well as many other Universities). It was...Unbelievable. UTSC TOOK OVER DOWNTOWN TORONTO! We were at every street corner, every subway entrance, every stoplight...Doing our thing. We ended up raising a total of $11 Grand in about two and a half hours of pure fundraising. This was where I lost what remained of my voice...Well...For the morning anyway. I'm planning to post some pics as soon as I get them. Heck...We even got a shout out from a Martha Stewart Vanthat was promoting her new show <>*shudder*. How does a convict end up with ANOTHER SHOW? In the immortal words of Dennis Miller: Now I don't want to get off on a rant here... but you can actually track the degeneration of Western Society via the television. We...as a peoples have gone from Survivor...to Fear Factor...to The Apprentice...to Who wants to date my dad...Allah (SWT) knows what's next...Damn...I ended up ranting.
I actually skipped out on the morning of the first day of Frosh week to head to the Federal Court (361 University Ave). It was Mahmoud Jaballah's hearing and I really wanted to show my support for the brother and his family. I met him only once and was amazed with his...strength, gentleness, humility, kindness, wisdom and inner radiance, even as he sat on the other side of the visiting room glass. The brother was...amazing...He kept smiling even as the prison guards patrolled the visiting room...One of the most inspiring people I have ever met. His entire family is just as amazing. The strength...the purity...the noor (light) and the general conduct of the family is...a sight to behold. May Allah keep them all well. I hope anyone reading this Blog either shows their support for this brother (and the other Secret Trial 5) or at least educates him/herself about these secret trials. I'd rather not speak about the hearing (out of respect for the family and the courts) but I hope to point out an excellent (but somewhat dated) article prepared by the amazing Matthew Behrens of the Homes Not Bombs movement. All I can say is that I hope everything ends well for Mahmoud Jaballah and the other Secret Trial 5 as well as their families and that they remain strong throughout their ordeal. Make Dua'a (prayer) people.
The spirit of amazing people like the Secret Trial 5, their families, Matthew and other activists who show their support for the Secret Trial 5 (and anyone so wrongfully treated by the government) was also inspiring. In fact, it brought up fragments of an ancient Bob Dylan song. I'm sure that its people like these that inspired Bob Dylan when he sang...
Come writers and critics
Who prophesize with your pen
And keep your eyes wide
The chance won't come again
And don't speak too soon
For the wheel's still in spin
And there's no tellin' who
That it's namin'.
For the loser now
Will be later to win
For the times they are a-changin'.
Bob Dylan...is phenomenal. That particular verse of course is from the song: The times they are a-changin'. The man was the political voice of the conscious American, Civil Rights and Anti-War movements for well over 25 years. To this day, his lyrics are remembered and form the anthems of many grass-roots movement. His position was (and remains) well deserved...He summed up the plight of Americans (and many Westerners) in the song A hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall:
I met a young child beside a dead pony,
I met a white man who walked a black dog,
I met a young woman whose body was burning,
I met a young girl, she gave me a rainbow,
I met one man who was wounded in love,
I met another man who was wounded with hatred,
And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard,
It's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.
The beauty of his words is the more that you analyze them, the more depth they seem to have. Anyway...enough about American Icons and Secret trials. I came across some of Khalil Gibran's poetry in some of my supplementary English texts (Yes...I am reading ahead...Yes I know I'm a freak) that was particularly...Insightful. Although I don't agree with much of Gibran's work, the inspiration from Quranic Texts, Prophetic Hadith, Sufi poetry and Biblical teachings is clear and evokes a beauty in his words. I am a bit partial to this fragment from Gibran's "The Prophet" (I even managed to get a link for an online version for those of you who haven't read it).
You would know the secret of death.
But how shall you find it unless you seek it in the heart of life?
The owl whose night-bound eyes are blind unto the day cannot unveil the mystery of light.
If you would indeed behold the spirit of death, open your heart wide unto the body of life.
For life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one.
In the depth of your hopes and desires lies your silent knowledge of the beyond;
And like seeds dreaming beneath the snow your heart dreams of spring.
Trust the dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity.
Your fear of death is but the trembling of the shepherd when he stands before the king whose hand is to be laid upon him in honour.
Is the shepherd not joyful beneath his trembling, that he shall wear the mark of the king?
Yet is he not more mindful of his trembling?
For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun?
And what is to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?
Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing.
And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb.
And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance.
Of particular note is the bolded part of the poem, which is rife with Sufi ideas of transcendence, death and rebirth. It is this part that really struck a nerve. I'll say this about Gibran...He sure knew how to write. Well...anywho...Have to get ready for my first lectures...Well...It could be worse...I could still be in high school...*shudder*
What more needs to be said. Our group (Group Seventeen) butchered the rest of the Froshies in EVERY EVENT! From the Amazing Race to the Dance Off. Yes...we had a dance off. Thankfully (for everyone else) I didn't end up dancing. Its been a wild 3-Day Blitz of activity. I've pretty much lost my voice and basic motor functions due to sheer exhaustion, excitement and the general buzz of activity that is Frosh. Endless chants, parades, ragging and attitude checks. Still, It WAS AWESOME and I have no doubt in my mind that memories of Frosh will keep me from losing my mind during mid-terms. Totally worth meeting the people, especially our Group Leaders.
We even ended up raising some money for Cystic Fibrosis Research through the annual Shinerama Event that has been integrated into the Frosh week at UTSC (as well as many other Universities). It was...Unbelievable. UTSC TOOK OVER DOWNTOWN TORONTO! We were at every street corner, every subway entrance, every stoplight...Doing our thing. We ended up raising a total of $11 Grand in about two and a half hours of pure fundraising. This was where I lost what remained of my voice...Well...For the morning anyway. I'm planning to post some pics as soon as I get them. Heck...We even got a shout out from a Martha Stewart Van
I actually skipped out on the morning of the first day of Frosh week to head to the Federal Court (361 University Ave). It was Mahmoud Jaballah's hearing and I really wanted to show my support for the brother and his family. I met him only once and was amazed with his...strength, gentleness, humility, kindness, wisdom and inner radiance, even as he sat on the other side of the visiting room glass. The brother was...amazing...He kept smiling even as the prison guards patrolled the visiting room...One of the most inspiring people I have ever met. His entire family is just as amazing. The strength...the purity...the noor (light) and the general conduct of the family is...a sight to behold. May Allah keep them all well. I hope anyone reading this Blog either shows their support for this brother (and the other Secret Trial 5) or at least educates him/herself about these secret trials. I'd rather not speak about the hearing (out of respect for the family and the courts) but I hope to point out an excellent (but somewhat dated) article prepared by the amazing Matthew Behrens of the Homes Not Bombs movement. All I can say is that I hope everything ends well for Mahmoud Jaballah and the other Secret Trial 5 as well as their families and that they remain strong throughout their ordeal. Make Dua'a (prayer) people.
The spirit of amazing people like the Secret Trial 5, their families, Matthew and other activists who show their support for the Secret Trial 5 (and anyone so wrongfully treated by the government) was also inspiring. In fact, it brought up fragments of an ancient Bob Dylan song. I'm sure that its people like these that inspired Bob Dylan when he sang...
Come writers and critics
Who prophesize with your pen
And keep your eyes wide
The chance won't come again
And don't speak too soon
For the wheel's still in spin
And there's no tellin' who
That it's namin'.
For the loser now
Will be later to win
For the times they are a-changin'.
Bob Dylan...is phenomenal. That particular verse of course is from the song: The times they are a-changin'. The man was the political voice of the conscious American, Civil Rights and Anti-War movements for well over 25 years. To this day, his lyrics are remembered and form the anthems of many grass-roots movement. His position was (and remains) well deserved...He summed up the plight of Americans (and many Westerners) in the song A hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall:
I met a young child beside a dead pony,
I met a white man who walked a black dog,
I met a young woman whose body was burning,
I met a young girl, she gave me a rainbow,
I met one man who was wounded in love,
I met another man who was wounded with hatred,
And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard,
It's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.
The beauty of his words is the more that you analyze them, the more depth they seem to have. Anyway...enough about American Icons and Secret trials. I came across some of Khalil Gibran's poetry in some of my supplementary English texts (Yes...I am reading ahead...Yes I know I'm a freak) that was particularly...Insightful. Although I don't agree with much of Gibran's work, the inspiration from Quranic Texts, Prophetic Hadith, Sufi poetry and Biblical teachings is clear and evokes a beauty in his words. I am a bit partial to this fragment from Gibran's "The Prophet" (I even managed to get a link for an online version for those of you who haven't read it).
You would know the secret of death.
But how shall you find it unless you seek it in the heart of life?
The owl whose night-bound eyes are blind unto the day cannot unveil the mystery of light.
If you would indeed behold the spirit of death, open your heart wide unto the body of life.
For life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one.
In the depth of your hopes and desires lies your silent knowledge of the beyond;
And like seeds dreaming beneath the snow your heart dreams of spring.
Trust the dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity.
Your fear of death is but the trembling of the shepherd when he stands before the king whose hand is to be laid upon him in honour.
Is the shepherd not joyful beneath his trembling, that he shall wear the mark of the king?
Yet is he not more mindful of his trembling?
For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun?
And what is to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?
Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing.
And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb.
And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance.
Of particular note is the bolded part of the poem, which is rife with Sufi ideas of transcendence, death and rebirth. It is this part that really struck a nerve. I'll say this about Gibran...He sure knew how to write. Well...anywho...Have to get ready for my first lectures
By the way...Composed this during the recess at the hearing and inspired by (and dedicated to) Mahmoud Jaballah and his family...
Though you capture me
Nothing can oppress my soul
As free as the wind
Though you capture me
Nothing can oppress my soul
As free as the wind
___________
TWS Out
