29 August 2016
25 August 2016
Recently I came across a v disturbing photograph - Four armed policemen forced a Muslim woman to remove her burkini on a beach in Nice. Burkini is beachwear for Muslims so that their bodies aren't exposed. So the armed police officers forced a woman, who was peacefully lying down and doing absolutely nothing but to have some good time, to remove a piece of clothing without her consent because of the burkini ban.
THIS IS SO BLOODY SHAMEFUL.
France has banned niqabs and hijabs back in the past and it makes me furious, why does a covered woman bothers you so much that you'll go around passing laws against it. Oh well, not just covered women but covered Muslim women because nuns are allowed on beaches with their uniforms on. Where is the goddamn equality?
Most of the Muslim women cover theirselves, many don't. But a hijab and niqab is mainly a Muslim woman's identity. You can't take someone's identity against their will because of their religion. It's oppressing a whole community of human being just because their beliefs are different than yours. It makes my blood boil because I'm a part of the same community and I can't do anything to help people who believe in same things as me, we pray to the same God, we share the same holy book but I'm free to wear my scarf as I want and they are not.
Why does it both anyone to see a person, fully clothed and head covered and sometimes burqa on? Like, does it change a person? Makes it less than a human being or does it make someone look like they're not from the same world as any other person? Aren't we the generation who talks about freedom the most? Aren't we the same generation who promotes women empowerment better than any other generation? And still, a woman isn't allowed to dress as she likes in a fully developed and a famous country called France. Oh, I mean a covered Muslim woman.
Nakedness isn't freedom. It's a choice. Freedom in clothing means you are free to wear any goddamn thing you want. And many women decide to wear a burkini and a hijab because they're free to do so. There's not one single person in the world to tell them they can't cover theirselves just because it doesn't ~fit in~ the criteria of the freedom for women they're talking about. Well, go to hell with your standards of freedom.
Remember it's 2016 and we're here to change the world and make it a better place. Let's not make the word freedom a cliché. Promise me to be human, promise me to let others be human.
18 August 2016
I started my day with a new contour kit I just received in mail and a bottle of Coca Cola. The charm of turning 19 hasn't left me yet. I'll be in Shehr e Yarak (Karachi, I mean) for the coming week and celebrate the age I was once afraid of. 19, you don't scare me anymore. 19th year started gloriously and I swear I'm going to make the most out of my last teenage year. I'm the BIG GIRL AREEBA who is going to change the meaning of weak.
I turned 19th on this 16th of August. Which also marks the first ever anniversary of Not Your Type blog as well. Though this blog is actually 4 years old, it was previously Aree With Umbrella (I hate this name now, I never owned an umbrella) then it turned I Have A Messy Bun (I cover my hair most of the time now and I have a pixie cut) and then finally, on my 18th birthday last year, this blog turned into Not Your Type. It was hard to name it that, I wanted to relatable all my life until I didn't anymore. I am too comfortable in my own paper skin.
On the night of 15th August, around 11:55pm, I was sitting with my twin and a close friend of 10 years who was ill atm, drinking cola. When the clock stroke 12:05am, we realized that it's finally the big day. Siddique twins turn 19. There wasn't anyone I wanted to call or wanted to write to, I just wanted to keep drinking my cola and talk to the two girls I have spent a lifetime with and get excited over people who don't exist in real life. I love moments like this when absolutely nothing matters except the moment itself. I don't remember the last time I felt like this, peaceful and complete, too content for my own taste. This is how 19th reached me, peaceful and with a meaning. Just like the water that touches your feet gently at the shore. Maybe because I'm water. And 19 will turn me into the person I try a little too hard to finally be.
And I'm emotionally connected to cola. And when Umair Jaswal and Meesha Shafi recreated "Zaalima Coca Cola Pila de" for Coke Studio, I really really really wanted to make it a ringtone on a phone I don't have. It's 2016 and I'm phoneless, it's tragic.
Also, I'm getting good at buying make up I have no idea how to use. Maybe this is how real make up warriors are born, trained by youtube videos and finally live by spending all of their money on make up they don't really need. I'm a make up warrior to be. I got a contour kit I know nothing about. I know, only beauty vloggers can save me.
15 August 2016
Dowry is basically all the stuff a bride's family give her (electronics, gold furniture, sometimes property etc) This tradition started as the parents giving their daughters all of the things as "gifts" but then it started to turn out horrible. Groom's family started demanding things they wanted from bride's family. Traditions, ta-da. People would do anything to give their daughters a glorious dowry so that her in-laws would be pleased and their daughter would live in peace and harmony. But now, it's a bloody disease. Many young women can't even get married because their parents can't afford a good amount of dowry. And it's not just a story, I've seen it happen. I've seen women who can't get married because they didn't have enough to pay to the family she was going to marry into. I have seen women being divorced because 1) the dowry wasn't nice 2) her husband found someone who could afford a better dowry.
We already have raised horrible sons and vulnerable daughters to accept dowry as it is. You see, it's totally normal for people to talk about someone's dowry like it's totally normal:
Did you see how awful dowry Mrs. XYZ's daughter in law brought? Not even a fridge in it!
My daughter-in-law should bring an air conditioner with her, at least.
It's time to fix it.
You're not supposed to spend everything you've earned on a wedding when it can also be a simple event. There's no sense in spending thousands of rupees on one single event that would last for 3 hours & inviting people you don't even know or like. And absolutely not right to sell your son by asking things from bride's family that you can afford by yourself or you already have. Or tricking yourself into thinking that giving a huge amount of dowry can buy happiness for your daughter. It's not going to happen.
Traditions are good as long as they're not hurting you but when they're poisonous, we can always walk away from them. I asked on my tumblr to tell me what others think of dowry and the result turned out amazing. I'm v happy to see that the younger generation thinks way better than the previous one when it comes to dowry.
A woman's worth more than her money
We don't want to buy our grooms
We're here and we're removing the price tag from our existence
This one's my personal fave
I also wrote a lil poem and read it in front of god knows many people. I mean, I posted a video about it online.
What do YOU think about dowry?
This post is in association with Orient Pakistan. People at Orient were kind enough to bring the dowry issue up and teach this world a good thing or two. Thanks a lot, Orient. The tvc that brought a little revolution online is attached down below:
(If you don't understand Urdu, please let me know and I will translate it for you)
8 August 2016
I once picked up gone girl, read few chapters, didn't like it, threw it back.
I read it again because two women from our book club said exactly the same thing, "Areeba, give it a read" after I told them how disturbing books are my favorite. I trusted them & I never regretted it.
Gone girl is what I never expected it to be. I LOVED every bit of it. It was disturbing, shocking, funny, pathetic, everything I could ever ask for. If you're planning to read it, please don't read this post because it has spoilers. MAJOR SPOILERS. For once, I want to write my heart out about a book.
I grew up watching failed marriages, broken homes, disturbed wives and tired husbands. Most of them described their lives as pathetic after their marriage. And I wondered if a marriage is such a hard thing, how do two people survive it? (well many don't, but that's another case) And the gone girl almost solved the mystery for me: marriage is an abnormal thing but you find ways to live with it and this book describes probably the darkest one. Maybe Gillian Flynn wanted the newest, internet obsessed generation to understand what a normally abnormal thing marriage can be.
Flynn, the queen, understands. She wrote in gone girl:
"I don't know that we are actually human at this point, those of us who are like most of us, who grew up with TV and movies and now the Internet. If we are betrayed, we know the words to say; when a loved one dies, we know the words to say. If we want to play the stud or the smart-ass or the fool, we know the words to say. We are all working from the same dog-eared script."
Amy, the wife, is the smartest psychopath and people want to BE with her.
Nick, the husband, is really lame. The loser type nobody wants to help.
Amy is my darling, she's a psychopath and that makes her even more dear to me. Fictional psychopaths are my personal favorites.
"You drink a little too much and try a little too hard. And you go home to a cold bed and think, That was fine. And your life is a long line of fine.” -Amy
Gone girl is the type of book I keep rereading and it has taught me stuff I didn't even want to know. I am probably the least interested person in marriage right now but I've learned things about it that I think I should preach. Ta-da!
there are no rules but there are rules
“I was told love should be unconditional. That's the rule, everyone says so. But if love has no boundaries, no limits, no conditions, why should anyone try to do the right thing ever? If I know I am loved no matter what, where is the challenge? I am supposed to love Nick despite all his shortcomings. And Nick is supposed to love me despite my quirks. But clearly, neither of us does. It makes me think that everyone is very wrong, that love should have many conditions. Love should require both partners to be their very best at all times.”
how two people complete each other, mostly
"We're a sick, fucking toxic Möbius strip, Amy. We weren't ourselves when we fell in love, and when we became ourselves - surprise! - we were poison. We complete each other in the nastiest, ugliest possible way. You don't even really love me, Amy. You don't even like me."
we complete each other in the nastiest, ugliest possible way - maybe this is exactly what marriage is, maybe little more civilized than this, but this is what it is
great marriage never happens
"Give me a man with a little fight in him, a man who calls me on my bullshit. (But who also kind of likes my bullshit.) And yet: Don’t land me in one of those relationships where we’re always pecking at each other, disguising insults as jokes, rolling our eyes and ‘playfully’ scrapping in front of our friends, hoping to lure them to our side of an argument they could not care less about. Those awful if only relationships: This marriage would be great if only… and you sense the if only list is a lot longer than either of them realizes."
never expect your spouse to like your "real self"
“Committing to Nick, feeling safe with Nick, being happy with Nick, made me realize that there was a Real Amy in there, and she was so much better, more interesting and complicated and challenging, than Cool Amy. Nick wanted Cool Amy anyway. Can you imagine, finally showing your true self to your spouse, your soul mate, and having him not like you? So that’s how the hating first began.”
when you're married, your marriage 'happens' to you
“I know women whose entire personas are woven from a benign mediocrity. Their lives are a list of shortcomings: the unappreciative boyfriend, the extra ten pounds, the dismissive boss, the conniving sister, the straying husband. I've always hovered above their stories, nodding in sympathy and thinking how foolish they are, these women, to let these things happen, how undisciplined. And now to be one of them! One of the women with the endless stories that make people nod sympathetically and think: Poor dumb bitch.”
life partners can surprise you, really really really surprise you
“The old Amy, the girl of the big laugh and the easy ways, literally shed herself, a pile of skin and soul on the floor, and stepped this new, brittle, bitter Amy ... a razor-wire knot daring me to unloop her, and I was not up to the job with my thick, numb, nervous fingers. Country fingers. Flyover fingers untrained in the intricate, dangerous work of 'solving Amy'. When I'd hold up the bloody stumps, she'd sigh and turn to her secret mental notebooks on which she tallied all my deficiencies, forever noting disappointments, frailties, shortcomings.”
“One should never marry a man who doesn’t own a decent set of scissors.
That would be my advice. It leads to bad things.”
Thanks Amy, will keep in mind.
What's your MOST favorite book?
3 August 2016
A photo posted by Areeba Siddique (@ohareeba) on
Red for #ohjournaletc || turning my Logic's textbook into my part time art journal because why the hell notA photo posted by Areeba Siddique (@ohareeba) on
I AM BACK AFTER A DREADFUL WEEK WITHOUT INTERNET and catching up with #ohjournaletc prompts || dreamsA photo posted by Areeba Siddique (@ohareeba) on
A photo posted by Areeba Siddique (@ohareeba) on
2 August 2016
I always fail to maintain a friendly relationship with colors. I'm an artist, I'm supposed to play with colors and not to fight them. But I'm helpless when it comes to mixing colors and emotions. I'd rather be obsessed with one single color, paint my heart with all of its shades, name my crush after it and write poetry on it than to try and mix many colors together. Because I can't control all of them, together.
And my colors theories somehow enable me to understand them better.
I'm okay with black because if there's nothing left, color it black. If you destroyed something, paint it black. You made a mistake, dip it in black and get away with it.
I'm never okay with white because I know I'll hurt the purity of it. I create a mess and I hate when I wreck something white in the process. But the irony is, white is what I wear most. Maybe this is how I'm trying to live with what I fear I might destroy.
And blue is the color I want to be. Because sky, ocean, earth, confidence & truth. They all are blue.
Red is the color I always have had a love/hate relationship. I grew up envying red because I couldn't control it. It flew everywhere around me, brides wore it, red roses were the only type of rose we had and it meant happiness. But to me, it always brought confusion and nothing else. Though I learned to love it because I needed to put on red lipstick. Then on one fineday, I stopped putting on red lipstick. I just didn't want to wear it again. But again on one finest day, I fell it love with an ajrak, which is red and white and black, and I'm learning to love all these colors together,
And here's the outfit made up every color I'm sensitive about. Complicated but they completed me.