Facebook addiction: Who is the real culprit?

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This was the very first article that I am writing here on LinkedIn and that I am re-writing here on WordPress, and I am very pleased to paste you hereunder a post from one of my compatriots regarding some of my Mauritian compatriots and their addiction to Facebook:

Hello Mark Zuckerberg!

I took a suffering patient to the SSRN Hospital this evening. The security guy outside didn’t bother to give directions because he was busy on Facebook Messenger.

When I reached the “emergency entry”, a taxi driver had forgotten that he had parked there after dropping his passenger, because he was busy checking his Facebook newsfeed.

I went to the registration counter. I had to utter my phone number thrice because the lady’s attention was on her phone’s screen – that showed a man’s Facebook profile.

The doctor was liking photos on Facebook when I had to disturb him, unfortunately. The patient got admitted, and while carrying him to an allocated ward on a wheel-bed, [as they walked] both nurses were excited to be adding each other as Facebook Friends since they met each other after a long time.

And finally me…I had to take out my phone and write a Facebook post to you.

So Mark, did you make us any less slave than our ancestors?

Good night!

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Kudos to my compatriot who wrote that blog post anyway… And thank you Mark Zuckerberg for having addicted the Facebook drug to us. And cheers to all the humans who let themselves getting trapped into that drug so stupidly that they completely forgot the true meaning of socialization and of priorities in life! Because we cannot blame Mark Zuckerberg totally either. He created Facebook to become famous. But so many people misuse Facebook. They make of Facebook an addiction and even use it to publish all their life as an open story and even as a tool used for pornography and violence! And after this we are astonished that we have no more privacy when our privacy is in danger? We are astonished that our pictures are misused within the hands of hackers in the aim of ruining our lives?

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A couple of years ago a respectful young student was retrieved hung in her bedroom together with all her family members after they committed collective suicide! The reason? She had a PUBLIC Facebook profile and posted all her personal pics on it. Some hackers used her pics to create fake pornographic pictures of her on a fake profile with HER name and identity! She was NOT aware of that and so many naive people believed she was a REAL SLUT and her whole reputation at home, at school, in her family and in society got completely ruined! Was she to be blamed for having created a public Facebook profile innocently without expecting the bad consequences it would have had on her life? Or are those hackers to be blamed for having tricked her pictures and ruined her innocence and reputation? Unfortunately I couldn’t retrace the Facebook post revealing about that collective suicide, but I got the proof that such cases exist through that article from Hindustan Times, revealing the arrest of a hacker who victimized another girl in the same case and who pushed her to commit suicide since her reputation was completely ruined because of him.

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Another case we should talk about and which made me being disgusted with having a personal Facebook profile: 2 years ago an Indian girl made me revealing some shocking secrets, though she didn’t know me, about a celebrity I adored to the core! Of course as a blind follower of that celebrity I didn’t believe her and insulted her, and I thought the celebrity would have been clever enough to understand my concern about protecting him and his marital life since he was engaged. Instead of supporting me, he forced me and a couple of his fans whom I shared the story with to apologise to that Indian girl who pretended that her profile was hacked by her boyfriend and that he created that fake profile of hers misusing her pictures, contacts and personal details to create trouble between her and her contacts since he was jealous like hell and could never bear knowing she had male friends who were only fans of hers since she was also a celebrity in her locality. But the way she exposed so many precised details about those shocking revelations are TOO TRUE to consider that this girl was trapped by her boyfriend and it was evident she was lying and fooling everyone! Since now NO ONE gave me right for the good intention I had towards that celebrity and my name and reputation got suddenly blackened by all his followers and even by that celebrity HIMSELF! One day I will reveal you the complete story, which is still in draft mode but which I may publish very soon so that you would know better about the whole story. But to prove you that such cases exist, though they are rarer, I found that article to justify what I have just written, and what I have read in it was extremely shocking, and especially when I read the latest paragraph stipulating, I quote, that “The status updates are not offensive, they do not use foul language and can be deleted once you “Unhack your  Facebook.” Which rubbish is that? Didn’t they realize the foolishness of their action and how they could stupidly put some innocent lives in danger or facing big fear and trauma for nothing, and maybe for the rest of their lives by doing that? That is why there is a quote in French saying “Les plaisanteries les plus courtes sont les meilleures”, translated in English as “The shortest jokes are the best ones”. It’s true since as it starts becoming longer… it doesn’t become a joke anymore and it can really endanger your life!

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It’s easy to blame Mark Zuckerberg for having created Facebook! But we should especially first blame OURSELVES for being unable to use Facebook intelligently, responsibly and appropriately. I was myself a Facebook addicted person and I myself admit how I misused Facebook so cheaply in the past and how Facebook turned into a drug which completely ruined my life and got me away from my priorities and life responsibilities as a SPOUSE, a HOUSEWIFE, a MOTHER and a WRITER-TO-BE! I won’t be scared to share my story with you and with everyone if necessary as an ex Facebook addicted if necessary. I use other platforms regularly such as Google+, Instagram and LinkedIn but when I compare my daily experience with them this is NOTHING compared to my previous FACEBOOK experiences since I obtained TOUGH LIFE LESSONS from them and learned to impose my LIMITS and to respect them.

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The complexity of the Sharing and Caring Philosophy

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I am writing that blog post, since in a couple of hours, some youngsters from the YUVA (Youth United Voluntary Action) from Mauritius, under the supervision of their young leader Krishna Athal, will be going into a small district in the country, where people live in poor conditions, to distribute some school materials to a lot of children who want to learn but who don’t have the necessary material tools to be able to learn properly. I may write about the lack of success in education in another blog post, since there are lots of interesting things to share together in it, but in that one I am actually writing, I am focusing especially on the generous action made by those Mauritian youngsters, and at the same time I would like the whole world to know more about them all because they are really worth to be discovered. I wrote some stuffs about their founder Krishna Athal in two blog posts, one where I describe him as a young rising political prodigy in the country, and another one where I reviewed his Wikipedia biography, and through those blog posts, I think that you will know much more about him. Regarding the YUVA movement, I recently read an interview of Krishna Athal where he was telling us more the YUVA movement, for which you can also find some more details on the website of the movement. But whatever Krishna mentioned in his interview, I think, will already give you a global clue about the movement itself:

The twelve Sustainable Development Goals are:

  1. Eradicate poverty in Mauritius in all its forms.
  2. Eradicate hunger, achieve food security and improve the quality of nutrition.
  3. Ensure good health and promote the well-being of all.
  4. Ensure quality education (civic and life).
  5. Promote gender equality and empower all women and girls.
  6. Promoting economic progress by encouraging youth entrepreneurship and providing facilities for start-ups.
  7. To ensure the regional integration with on the menu of programs of exchange with the youth of the neighboring countries.
  8. Take urgent action to combat climate change and its impact.
  9. Preserve the marine environment with the protection of beaches and ensure the sustainable use of the sea and marine resources.
  10. Encourage the love of sport and physical activity for all and for all ages.
  11. Exploit technology and encourage innovation by ensuring that an effective culture of techno permeates all sectors of society in every corner and corner of Mauritius.
  12. Encourage the love of art and culture by ensuring dynamic arts development and extending support to local artists.

I am in admiration in front of such wonderful youngsters, and if today I am focusing on their movement, it’s also to remind all of us that those twelve goals should be thought about in each human being’s lives and not only during some specific reasons.

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I have noticed that in Mauritius especially, people mostly choose the Christmas celebration to have a thought for the elderly, the poor and the needy, whereas those same poor people are forgotten during the rest of the year. But the Yuvans understood perfectly that sharing and giving was a question of attitude and not a question of occasion to give. There are NO occasions to give a part of you. Sharing and giving should be a part of us each and every day, independently from the Christmas celebration. Do you remember, when you were all children, about the fairy tale of the little match girl? If you read the summary of the story below, you will understand much better why this story should touch your hearts and why Christmas shouldn’t be the only occasion to share and give:

On a cold New Year’s Eve, a poor young girl tries to sell matches in the street. She is already shivering from cold and early hypothermia, and she is walking barefoot having lost her shoes.[1] Still, she is too afraid to go home, because her father will beat her for not selling any matches, and also as the cracks in the house can’t keep out the cold wind. The girl takes shelters in a nook or alley and sits down.[2]

The girl lights the matches to warm herself. In their glow she sees several lovely visions, including a Christmas tree and a holiday feast. The girl looks skyward and sees a shooting star; she then remembers her dead grandmother saying that such a falling star means someone is dying and is going to go to Heaven. As she lights the next match, she sees a vision of her grandmother, the only person to have treated her with love and kindness. She strikes one match after another to keep the vision of her grandmother alive for as long as she can.

After running out of matches the child dies, and her grandmother carries her soul to Heaven. The next morning, passers-by find the child dead in the nook, frozen with a smile on her face, and guess the reason for the burnt-out matches beside her. They feel pity for her, although they had not shown kindness to her before her death. They have no way of knowing about the wonderful visions she saw before her death or how gloriously she and her grandmother are now celebrating the New Year in Heaven.[3]

That story also is worth to be meditated. We tend to choose some special occasions, especially Christmas, to do shopping for our loved ones and for people whom we will see only once a year and afterwards who will disappear in front of our eyes for the rest of their lives. With a hypocrite feeling, we will want as well to share and give to the needy because of the joy of Christmas. But as soon as the Christmas festivities are gone, the sharing and giving is gone together with them. In my family-in-law, for Christmas and the New Year Eve, each family member shares and gives some gifts between themselves… But when the celebrations are over, each family member goes aside, at the exception of a few of them who still live in solidarity with each other. In Mauritius as well, it’s the same thing. Though the country highly got developed, the needy are forgotten during almost all the year in their struggle and misery, but are remembered only for Christmas. Those people, like the ones who succeeded in life, maybe didn’t have all the tools nor the luck to be able to succeed in life and they are very often misjudged and taken for passive and lazy people. To be honest with you, this is all the time what I hear from my in-laws, who belong to the category of people who escaped from poverty with their own weapons without depending on anyone. They always tend to think that, because they succeeded through the fruit of their own sacrifices, everybody should follow them as an example. This is not true. See the videoclip from The Script’s “Superhero” and all what I wrote about them in my blog post “Johannesburg Superheroes“. Did that brave single father choose to live in poor conditions and to lie to his daughter about his true situation as a scavenger, pretending that he was working in an office, only to hide to his daughter the truth about his situation to be able to see a smile upon her face when he comes back home? No he didn’t. Did those people living in poor conditions in Mauritius choose to live like that, with all their dreams shattered away despite their long fight to survive? No, they didn’t. Alike that South African father, those people living in poor conditions did their very best to fight in life for having an earning, but they didn’t have the appropriate tools nor support from others to be able to survive and to make progress in life. The story of the little match girl perfectly represents those same people: As per the summary, she is sent in the cold winter by her violent father to sell matches for an earning, since it was the only source of revenue which may perhaps help them surviving. Did the little girl choose that kind of life? No she didn’t. And instead, through those matches she saw so many lovely dreams in front of the match lights such as a wonderful Christmas meal, a Christmas tree, children playing together in the snow etc. But no one paid attention about her dreams because they were too selfish doing their Christmas shopping for their loved ones that they didn’t even care about her own situation as a poor girl, nor about her struggle face to her violent father. And when she died, it was too late, because people may have pitied her, but no one did even care about her dreams behind those matches. I saw so many people living in those conditions as well in Madagascar and in South Africa by trying to sell their stuffs in the streets for an earning, but with increase of insecurity, people were scared to approach them since people feared having business with dealers. Even my husband and I, to be honest, as expatriates in Madagascar and as tourists in South Africa, we thought exactly the same way. But who could guess that behind those people there was the soul of that same little match girl within them?

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However, sharing and caring also has its medal reverse. I was looking for some meanings on Quora and then I saw an answer to the question “What does sharing is caring mean?” There was an answer which attracted my attention, and which reminded me about a good friend of mine who focussed on the point of sharing so much but not receiving anything in return:

At first, that seemed like a pretty simple question to answer. But I just now gave it a bit more thought. Simply put, if one shares, surely one cares. But that’s not so simple, depending, for one, on what it is you’re sharing. Food, shelter, clothing, your time, your money – those are good sharing examples. But say you share high sugar candy with someone you know is a diabetic – that’s not caring. The same for sharing hard-core drugs with an addict, a young person, anyone not on their death bed; that action could lead to dire consequences regarding health, life in general, time in jail. Another form of negative sharing doesn’t have such awful outcomes for the recipient – in fact, no bad outcomes. But it may have negative results for the giver’s subconscious, for their karma, and how they want to be viewed by their society. If you’re in church, as an example, and the offering plate has begun its rounds, you make very sure that everyone sees you writing a check, as opposed to having it ready before services, and that you place the check face-up in the plate as it passes by you. That’s outwardly egotistical; you want anyone who sees that check to know you as a very generous person, especially if the check is substantial compared to others. Inwardly, your heart may swell a bit, but not as much as your head, and at the same time your “true self” realizes the real “why” of your generous donation. So, sharing for a knowable good is always good, but maybe not always for the giver. I try to remember that real altruism means that one gives without any reward from society, including recognition. That’s real caring. “You are what you think,” said Siddhartha Gautama.

Unfortunately I have completely lost the historic of the conversation I had with my friend on LinkedIn, but I remember that my friend told me having created a group on Facebook on which each member would help each other in an equal way to cultivate solidarity with each other, but very few unfortunately replied to his request and the group didn’t succeed. He also mentioned about a Pakistani friend of his who tried to do the same thing through a group she created, and which unfortunately failed and brought to her lots of deceptions. It’s true that sharing and caring can be a good thing, but not all the time. Like Michael Jackson sung in “Heal the World”, “Love is strong, it only cares of joyful givings”. Another type of negative sharing that I have known is among my family and my in-laws. I remember how some family members who succeeded in life tend to be generous only with the ones who succeeded in life, and not the ones who were rejected from the family. My parents, for example, who were among the richest family members in the patriarchal one, never invited some of my family members because they were living in poor conditions and underestimated. My father-in-law always keeps on being generous with those who stab him behind his back instead of being generous with my mother-in-law and even with my husband, who is the only child who takes care of him and who provides him financial help regularly, and this with my total approval, but in return he is never generous with us, and favors my brother-in-law and my sister-in-law more than they do for us and for my mother-in-law. But I firmly believe in Karma, and the way my parents and my father-in-law discriminate others is returning against themselves. In my case, one family member of mine became close friends with me after 20 years, and she was among the ones everyone rejected because of her dark skin and poor condition living. But as well as she was rejected from the family, as well today she is praised in her new home country UK, since they love her skin color and succeeded in life professionally and materially. She kept on sharing and caring all the time despite her success, but instead of appreciating her, everyone kept on underestimating her and misusing her. But though I have nothing to give her materially, I have at least my caring left, and I understood on how caring for her is a lesson that my family members never taught me and that I had to be taught on my own. For my father-in-law, for the moment I didn’t have any signs for his discriminatory way of sharing, but I am convinced that one day it will go against him when it comes on caring, since he kept on sharing with the bad ones instead of the good ones, and same thing applied as well when it came on caring.

Indeed the fact that those youngsters from YUVA are generously donating with a kind heart, maybe they won’t receive the same help in return, but they will be blessed in other ways in the future. So keep on sharing and caring… But don’t do it in a discriminatory way because every human being is equal. If you have that true spirit of sharing and caring, do it with everyone, the rich, the middle and the poor. Do it as well with the educated and the illiterate. Do it as well with the healthy and the disabled. But if you have that discriminatory spirit, then better don’t share nor care at all.

New Year Eve: Remembering its values through Ancient Times and a short Catholic tradition called St Sylvester Day

As most of you know it well, everybody celebrates the New Year Eve also known as the St Sylvester day. But has any of you tried to know the link between the New Year Eve and St Sylvester? Frankly speaking, it’s only now that I thought about it and decided to do some researches early on that morning of the 01st January.

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According to that article, “Little is known about Sylvester’s life. His tenure as pope took place during the reign of the Roman emperorConstantine I. Legend claims that Sylvester played an active role in the conversion of Constantine to Christianity, buthistorians reject this tale. As Pope Sylvester witnessed the divisions between Christians caused by the rise ofArianism, a doctrine concerning the nature of Christ, he sent two representatives to the Council of Nicea. Convenedby Emperor Constantine, the Council debated and rejected Arianism. His feast day was established in 1227 by PopeGregory IX. At least one writer has suggested that his feast day was placed on December 31 for symbolic reasons.Just as December 31 ushers in a new year, so, too, did the conversion of the emperor Constantine usher in a newepoch in the history of Christianity.

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But what should  be more interesting to know is about the New Year Eve History itself. In an article retracing the history of the New Year Eve, it’s a phenomenon which appeared 2000 years BC whereas the 01st January celebration appears only as a new phenomenon: “The celebration of the new year on January 1st is a relatively new phenomenon. The earliest recording of a new year celebration is believed to have been in Mesopotamia, c. 2000 B.C. and was celebrated around the time of the vernal equinox, in mid-March. A variety of other dates tied to the seasons were also used by various ancient cultures. The Egyptians, Phoenicians, and Persians began their new year with the fall equinox, and the Greeks celebrated it on the winter solstice

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There are several versions of the New Year celebration quoted in that article, but the most prominent one is about when Julius Caesar included the 01st January as the first day of the year. I was amazed to read that according to the ancient Roman Calendar before Julius Caesar’s decision, the years were made of only 10 months, starting as from the 01st of March. Then, as per that extract regarding the insertion of January the 01st, “In 46 B.C. Julius Caesar introduced a new, solar-based calendar that was a vast improvement on the ancient Roman calendar, which was a lunar system that had become wildly inaccurate over the years. The Julian calendar decreed that the new year would occur with January 1, and within the Roman world, January 1 became the consistently observed start of the new year.” The 01st January celebration though, was abolished during the Middle Ages, since it was being considered as a Pagan and Unchristian celebration, and the New Year celebration then coincided together with the birth of Jesus Christ on the 25th December. But little by little, the tradition was restored and adapted through the years as a celebration separated from Christmas, by the Gregorian Calendar.

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But now, another question that I am asking myself also while writing those words: Was New Year eve celebrated in Ancient times? The answer is a medley of Yes and No. Yes, it was celebrated in Ancient times, but not in the same way as we celebrate it today, with the traditional firecrackers, huge parties until late in the night at home, in restaurants or in the streets, good food, alcohol, etc. Here is an extract of this article showing what the celebration of the New Year represents in some of the Ancient times, especially in the Babylonian era: “The earliest recorded festivities in honor of a new year’s arrival date back some 4,000 years to ancient Babylon. For the Babylonians, the first new moon following the vernal equinox—the day in late March with an equal amount of sunlight and darkness—heralded the start of a new year. They marked the occasion with a massive religious festival called Akitu (derived from the Sumerian word for barley, which was cut in the spring) that involved a different ritual on each of its 11 days. In addition to the new year, Atiku celebrated the mythical victory of the Babylonian sky god Marduk over the evil sea goddess Tiamat and served an important political purpose: It was during this time that a new king was crowned or that the current ruler’s divine mandate was symbolically renewed.” And I have seen some pictures, while looking for an illustration for my blog post, revealing that the Akitu is still celebrated in some parts of the world as per demonstrated in that article.

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But in some other parts of the world, the New Year celebration was made in different ways, either for religious purposes or as a pagan celebration, at the example of Ancient Greece and Ancient Roman Times, which were two contrasting ways of celebrating the New Year. According to that article, “In Athens, however, there was an epigraph found reading of a religious ceremony that used to take place on the beginning of the New Year, or better said on the last day of the outgoing year, which involved only a small number of people. The celebration was a sacrifice of the outgoing officials to Zeus the Savior and Athena the Savior, which aimed at ensuring the blessings and favor of the two gods for the coming new year. It was not until ancient Roman times and while Rome grew in power, that the New Year festivities began to become extremely popular. The celebration known as the Saturnalia, a time of revelings, drinking bouts, orgies and human sacrifice in honor of god Saturn, was instituted as the festival of January 1st by Julius Caesar in 46BC upon deciding to adopt the Julian calendar. The popularity of the celebration was spread in all corners of the Roman Empire and continued with minor local and time alterations to integrate in the customs of all peoples within the Empire’s boundaries, including ancient Greece.

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Now, you will find strange why I am making a history of the New Year Eve among Ancient times with the way we are celebrating it, won’t you? Did you see the picture I have inserted above that paragraph in my blog post with that quote from Mark Twain, where you do the good resolutions and after one week, send them back to hell? The way I demonstrated the history of New Year during the Ancient Times is to show you that nowadays the humanity is celebrating the New Year mostly based on the Julian Calendar adapted by Julius Caesar, and also on the Ancient Roman Empire tradition made with revelations, orgies, human sacrifices to the God Saturn, etc. In Mauritius, the tradition of animal sacrifice to celebrate the New Year still exists in several Hindu Families, where on the 02nd January, they make an animal sacrifice as a yearly promise by killing a goat and after that, preparing the goat in some special meals. That tradition is more and more lost within the years according to my personal observations as an urban Mauritian, but is still practiced within rural Hindu families of the country, who kept their traditions in the total respect. The orgies, revelations, alcohol consumption in the Roman Era are also adapted not only in Mauritius but even worldwide in several parts of the world except in Muslim countries, where public alcohol consumption is forbidden. Unfortunately, what is sad is when you see how partying heavily for the New Year brings the population into some deceitful consequences: Lots of accidents in the streets mostly caused by huge alcohol consumption, crimes, fights between people partying during revelations made again under influence of alcohol, etc. Alcohol being the worst enemy for the New Year party, during which there are no limits imposed since it’s the very last day of the year.

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But the most prominent thought I had since the New Year Eve 2016 was about the importance of wishing Happy New Year. Why to wish Happy New Year? What is the need to make some new resolutions for the forthcoming new Year, for afterwards forgetting them and going back into our old bad habits? What is the need of wishing Happy New Year to everyone, including the ones whom you blame and dislike, or those who are your worst enemies, for after this starting again to blame them for the rest of the year? Personally, even though I wished Happy New Year to some of my in-laws, to my husband, to my son and to my LinkedIn, WhatsApp and Google+ contacts, personally I am very pessimistic when it comes on the importance of the New Year wishes, which I find personally useless and hypocrite, since they have no meaning. I was captivated by an extract of that article about the meaning of Happy New Year. The first paragraph from Albert Einstein captivated me the most: “When Albert Einstein’s good friend Michele Besso died in 1955, just a few weeks before Einstein’s own death, Einstein wrote a letter to Besso’s family in which he put forward a scientist’s consolation: “This is not important. For us who are convinced physicists, the distinction between past, present, and future is only an illusion, however persistent.” The idea that time is an illusion is an old one, predating any Times Square ball drop or champagne celebrations. It reaches back to the days of Heraclitus and Parmenides, pre-Socratic thinkers who are staples of introductory philosophy courses. Heraclitus argued that the primary feature of the universe is that it is always changing. Parmenides, foreshadowing Einstein, countered by suggesting that there was no such thing as change. Put into modern language, Parmenides believed the universe is the set of all moments at once. The entire history of the universe simply is.” Personally, despite being religious, I fully agree with that Cartesian thesis and I disagree on wishing Happy New Year, because the cycle is still the same: people changing for the better of the worse. People taking birth and people dying. People loving and people hating. The same circus of life always going on and on. Yesterday for New Year eve, since we had a very awful New Year eve celebrated as per what I related in my previous blog post, I mentioned to my husband about the hypocrisy behind the New Year wishes. My husband replied me the sentence that could change perhaps a lot of things in the world: “The New Year resolutions are not bad. But it’s us, the humans, who are bad in general, and who make everything to turn the good New Year resolutions into unlimited deceptions and failures”. There again, my husband was right. And here is the extract of that same article, which resumes it all: 

There is, perhaps, a judicious middle position between insisting on the centrality of time and denying its existence. Something can be real—actually existing, not merely illusory—and yet not be fundamental. Scientists used to think that heat, for example, was a fluidlike substance, called “caloric,” that flowed from hot objects to colder ones. These days we know better: Heat is simply the random motions of the atoms and molecules out of which objects are made. Heat is still real, but it’s been explained at a deeper level. It emerges out of a more comprehensive understanding.

Perhaps time is like that. Someday, when the ultimate laws of physics are in our grasp, we may discover that the notion of time isn’t actually essential. Time might instead emerge to play an important role in the macroscopic world of our experience, even if it is nowhere to be found in the final Theory of Everything.

In that case, I would have no trouble saying that time is “real.” I know what it means to grow older or to celebrate an anniversary whether or not time is “fundamental.” And either way, I can still wish people a Happy New Year in good conscience

So before you think about sending your New Year wishes to other people and making some good resolutions for the New Year, think about it several times before planning them, because Happy New Year wishes and resolutions is something really powerful, but which should come from the heart and be sincere. If it’s so, then maybe we can contribute into making the world much better by doing our own part of efforts and being sincere to the ones whom we wish Happy New Year to, and to keep our promises on all the good resolutions we did for the forthcoming New Year.

So on that concluding note, Happy New Year 2017 to you all 🙂

The Big Social Dilemma about Hindu womanhood in Mauritius and India

This morning, since I chose to have a relaxing day after having an almost sleepless night after a long and hardworking day at home with lots of food to cook, lots of house chores to deal with and so many reproaches I accumulated with my husband for silly matters, I seized the opportunity to watch an interesting Hindi Short Movie, “Teaspoon“.

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The cover image of the movie says it all, showing a tearful housewife who was crying out of her nerves because she was fed up. The story, which is in Hindi language but translated in English, relates the life of Kavita, a housewife whose life is balanced between her house chores, her cooking, her husband who works in an Insurance company but who needs to travel all the time, and her sick father-in-law who is sick and bedridden, and who always calls for his daughter-in-law’s assistance by hitting a teaspoon with the wooden bed or with a porcelain cup next to him. One evening, during dinner time, Kavita was talking to her husband Rajiv and wanted to go somewhere for a short holiday, but within the condition that her father-in-law would be placed in a home temporarily until they come back. But Rajiv categorically refuses that his father is placed in a home, which he estimates as costly, and prefers that he stays at home under his wife’s supervision. The days go by and Kavita’s father-in-law is becoming more and more exigent by asking after her through his teaspoon. The irony in all that is that he teases Kavita only when Rajiv is away from home, but doesn’t bother her when Rajiv is back home. Maybe because he knows that Kavita is busy with Rajiv… or that he pretends to act smart with her only to please his son? Only God knows! But the more time goes by, the more Kavita suffers from that situation since she feels abused by her father-in-law and completely misunderstood by Rajiv, who defends his father more than he does for his wife, who does everything for him and even for his father. Also, further to a huge fight between Kavita and Rajiv during dinner one evening, the morning after, Rajiv rushes to work without having his breakfast, since he doesn’t want to stay at home to avoid another fight with Kavita, since he cannot stand to fight against her each time she tries to complain with him about how his father acts towards her in and out of Rajiv’s presence. On that same morning, Kavita avoids her father-in-law during almost all the day, trying to cope with her other activities and with her work from home… Until at a moment, when her father-in-law asks her again for assistance, her nerves let go and she kills her father-in-law by accident by stifling him on the face with his pillow! When Kavita realizes what she did, she is under shock, and during the funeral ceremony during which everyone is quiet, she provokes noises in front of everyone by heavily bursting in tears, and she keeps on crying every day in presence of her husband. Rajiv, who doesn’t understand the strangeness of Kavita’s behaviour, asks her to stop that comedy since, according to him, she shouldn’t have cried so heavily since his father represented a burden for her and since she wanted to get rid of him for a couple of days by sending him in a home while they would go on holidays. Kavita wanted to tell the truth about what she did to her father-in-law, but she lacked courage and then sentenced to silence. Her husband then asked her to prepare his breakfast quickly otherwise he would be late at office. While she was preparing the chapatis in the kitchen, she suddenly heard again the famous teaspoon, but there was no one in her father-in-law’s bedroom… And then she came to discover that it was Rajiv himself who was making the sound with the teaspoon! Was Rajiv conscious that he was repeating the same gesture as his father? Was Rajiv aware that Kavita killed his father, and is doing again this disturbing sound to take revenge of her? Or was it the father-in-law’s spirit who came to haunt Rajiv to punish Kavita and turn her mad?

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Only God knows about what was in Rajiv’s mind in that movie, and that movie inspired me because it was exactly the same type of situation I have been facing recently. We are actually renting a fully furnished apartment in Seychelles. But as I related to you in my blog post “Too Much of Heaven Can Bring You Underground“, where I mentioned about some serious problems my husband had to face because of the landlord of another house we were renting before in the North of the country, I have to be very precautions on the way I need to keep the apartment clean. And on that day, I had a lot of food to cook since the day after we are used to fasting by only eating vegetarian food, I had some deep cleaning to do in the whole place since after only two days, the apartment turned dirty and dusty again, and I had a lot of laundry to do, especially since there were some white tissues which accidentally accumulated red stains after washing, and which I had to restore with some special products I could purchase especially for that in a supermarket in UAE, since those products weren’t available in Seychelles. I could earn a lot of time fortunately since my son was very tired after having waken up so early and then could do a 2-hour nap, but after such a hard day, I was so tired that I was feeling lots of back, feet and shoulder pains during the whole evening and that I was feeling very weak. But what pricked me was that, despite all the efforts that I did for all those chores, my husband kept on yelling in the house for some nasty details and each time our little one was misbehaving, without trying to understand that he was in good shape since he could rest for two hours to recuperate, and he even indirectly accused me of lacking discipline when it came on his education! At a moment I was so much fed up that I kept on yelling on my husband to make him shutting his mouth, and I felt completely demotivated and discouraged in front of such arrogance and ingratitude from my husband! Also today, because of that demotivation, I did almost nothing today apart some light chores and looking after my son since he came back from school. And again, my husband, whose mood unfortunately didn’t improve at all, kept on accumulating on me his moral lessons when he noticed some tasks not properly done, or things going wrong with our son, etc. At a moment I couldn’t bear it anymore for having so many moral lessons and reproaches from him, and while I brought the little one to the playroom after his dinner, since there was a playroom in the residential area which was kept open until quite late in the evening, my nerves went on and I heavily burst in tears, exactly in the same situation in which Kavita was retrieving herself in “Teaspoon”. I even have the sensation that, though my husband pretends that he understands me, in reality it’s not the case at all and I felt that I retrieved myself in front of a brick of wall exactly like Kavita felt with husband Rajiv.

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In such a moment of despair, I confided into a common good friend of ours, who is known for being a hardworker, regarding my situation, but she was categorical with me as a purely traditional Hindu woman: We, Hindu women, should be able to bear the burden of the whole world over our shoulders without complaining, even though we are sick, and we should always manage on our own and represent a rock on which our husband and children should always rely on through both thick and thin. She herself was an oppressed daughter-in-law when her children were still small, and had to face the burden of being always isolated by her mother-in-law and her sisters-in-law, and she even never had any encouragement nor support from her husband during those moments of struggles. But contrary to Kavita, she never gave up and kept on persevering without asking anyone’s help, and when her elder daughter got married, it was only at that moment that her husband really started to understand her and to recognize her values and how his own family were completely wrong about his wife. It’s in that purpose that she always encourages me to cultivate that fighting spirit that all Hindu women should always have within them, even in the worst cases. I remember that on my Google+ profile, I once posted a picture of several women who had to participate into a house construction, by carrying tons of heavy bricks over their head, since they were working to earn a living to help their husband with poor working revenue, so that they could fulfill their house hold. And after work, they had to continue working for the children, the family, the food and the housekeeping at home and had very few time to rest, but they never complained and always bore the burden of their responsibilities in silence, at the image of Mother India.

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I never complained so far since there are still a lot of married Indo-Mauritian women like me, who may be either younger or older than me, who continue to cultivate the tradition of being submitted spouses and mothers for their family, and who are always judged through their behaviour and through their clothing, appearance and daily responsibilities each and every day. Even though I have been raised within a half Creole, half Indian family, and that my mother mostly showed the glance of the Creole woman who was authoritarian, lived her womanhood fully despite her responsibilities and who always had her word to say and her presence to impose wherever she was going, I married a Hindu man and had to change myself drastically from the Creole education I received from my mother to the submitted spouse and mother I had to become, since all women and spouses in my family-in-law should always dress and behave respectfully, and be totally submitted under their husbands’ authority, though their husbands give them everything they need materially and financially, and though they have the right, especially during family meetings, to express themselves and to have an identity to show. For years, I haven’t been like that since I was always surrounded with maids around me like in my mother’s place, but when I stepped back into my native Mauritius after having spent the first years of my marriage life in Madagascar, I had to start everything from scratch and learn the hard responsibilities that every Hindu spouse should learn to do. It was very hard because I was always pressurised by my in-laws, and all the time compared to my sister-in-law, who had a child before me and who was more experimented than I was. But what pricked me the most was that during so many years, my in-laws considered her as the perfect daughter-in-law, whereas I have been considered as the incomplete daughter-in-law, which is the reason behind which one day, in a moment of despair after the huge fight I had with my father-in-law and which, I hope, put a final full stop to all those comparisons between us, I wrote “Sleeping Tablets“, a short story ending with suicide… whereas in real life, I am still alive and fighting, contrary to my fictional character Sapna in the story. And in addition to all that, I had no help from my parents, since I was and am still in bad terms with them, like I explained in all my other previous blog posts. But even though I was very harsh and cruel with my father-in-law during that fight, after which he had a very high blood pressure because of me, thing for which I never apologised though I was worried about his state of health (Hell yeah, I can be extremely cruel when I am angry, including against my elders, because when I have my points to defend, I never keep silent!), my father-in-law stopped comparing me with my sister-in-law, not because he understood my situation, how it was frustrating for me and how it made me sick, but rather because he was mostly scared of my overreactions and that he preferred shutting his mouth to avoid another argument with me.

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I don’t complain about the way I am leading my life as a housewife, mother and spouse, and I am very thankful that my husband gives me of everything and that I improved a lot the way I manage my daily responsibilities at home. I am also thankful that despite the struggle, my husband respects the fact that I need to cultivate my passion for literature, creative writing and blogging, since it helps me being better balanced in life and better managing my struggles, frustrations and moments of stress through expressing the voice of my heart through written words. But what I am facing, and what lots of Indo-Mauritians face again, even though the Indo-Mauritian society drastically emancipated through the years, resembles exactly the situation that still so many women face in India, since most of Mauritians have their inheritance within their Indian ancestors’ roots, and since Indo-Mauritians represent about 81% of the Mauritian population. There was another video which I loved watching from Bollywood actress Kalki Koechlin, a satiric video regarding rape, where she and another Bollywood star named Juhi Pandey ironically replied to what so many Indian women (and even Mauritian women) face as a critic when they are victims of abuse and rape, “RAPE: It’s Your Fault” which followed the numerous series of sexual assaults which had been filed since the famous 2012 Delhi Gang Rape which savagely shook the Indian society, especially women. In that satiric video, the kind of moral lesson that unfortunately too many women hear, in India like in Mauritius, is that one:

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This is exactly the kind of summon that women hear from men to be “respected” in society, and it doesn’t only concerns India but even Mauritius. Even though I have had toxic parents, the kind of education that they gave me was exactly what I obtained as per that picture, and I keep on practising that type of educational manner passively since I married a man with strict manners and am now part of a strict family-in-law who exegeses that every spouse should behave properly, not showing off in public, doing their house chores properly and wearing decent clothes. Myself, I do it every day, though I still have that rebellious voice within me which speaks when it has to, and though there is nonetheless a certain freedom of expression between me and my husband, even though there are still so many things that I keep untold and that I prefer writing in my blog instead. I even remember having watched a sort of short film that a good friend of mine once realised on his Facebook account, where men kept on being accused because of the Delhi gang rape, where he showed also the medal reverse that women aren’t that innocent either because they don’t behave as decently nor as respectively as before, especially since they are more and more caught on cheating, exposing their assets publicly, talking about their sexual life more and more openly with strangers, etc. And, of course, that it’s one of the reasons why they attract men to rape them… Another type of classical male accusation that I have heard that women are mostly responsible of their own rapes, which has nonetheless a part of truth especially on cheating. I remember having had so many male friends who faced hard heart breaks and relationship endings, since their girlfriends preferred lust and money with rich and wealthy men than true love they could receive from my friends, and on that purpose, with the education I have been brainwashed with, I found those girls really cheap and heartless, being myself a woman, and I gave my full support to my male friends.

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But there was a comment which I really loved reading in reply to the short movie “Teaspoon”, which stipulated that, I quote, “Wife should not be treated as a machine. A machine does not need any appreciation for the work it does. But, the wife expects some appreciation for the work she does. For that matter, even husband likes if he is appreciated for the job he does. In this short film, the husband never tries to understand the problem she faces in his absence at home. If he would have appreciated his wife for all the care she takes for his father other than doing house hold work, his wife would have felt happy and such ending would not have taken place. His wife was not bad in nature. Let all the husband learn to appreciate their wife for their contribution in running the family, to have a happy and peaceful family.” That should have been a good response to all what I have written previously, that if women became so bad and cheap, it wasn’t totally their fault, but especially because they had been victim of bad treatments in the past because of men, and mostly after having escaped from forceful marriages, at the example of late Bandit Queen Phoolan Devi, who was forced to marry an elder cousin whereas she was still a teenager, or of late Pakistani model Qandeel Baloch, who posted provocative pictures and videos of her years after having escaped a forced marriage, before she was killed by her brother “in honor for the family”! I also invite you to pay attention to Kalki Koechlin’s poem “Dear Men“, which perfectly depicts on how men are hypocrite towards women, and dare claiming once per year the International Women’s Day, and which is a strong slap about disrespect of womanhood. And finally regarding the rapists, I found something very interesting on a blog, where there was a review about the short video “RAPE: It’s Your Fault”, the kind of message that women dream men should read carefully so that they take conscious that it’s unfair of putting 90% of the blame over women, and only 10% on men:

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But after all what I wrote previously, as per whatever a good friend of mine, Indian author Pratap DivyeshPratap Divyesh, wrote in his book “A Responsible Confession“, Pratap perfectly depicts who should be blamed in the Delhi Gang Rape… I started reading the book, and the answer I obtained was that all started with OURSELVES… That before blaming the victim for having gone out late, before blaming the rapist for his irresponsible and monstrous action against an innocent girl, we should first have a look at our inner self before judging anyone… And he was right about it. It’s not the man or the woman who is responsible of the rape… It all starts with our minds first. And the extract of that article perfectly concludes about who is guilty in rape and we will see that both sexes are concerned:

As per my consideration the responsibility lies equally between both sexes because without a small mislead both sexes cannot cross the limits. In western countries there is a lot of reports on “Date Rape”which is a girl getting raped when she is going for a dating with a guy. If we analyse the situation there may be a little clue of what triggered the Rape situation and what may have been done to avoid that. In India this is now becoming a big problem since we have reports on this type of rape. In this both victim and the accused is known to each other. The situation created the problem.

If the girl is little bit cautious about her surroundings this may not have happened. If the guy is little cautious about the values of the friendship/love of that Girl then this may have been avoided. Recently there was a report which involves Rakhi  Sawant and popular pop singer. When we saw the pictures of Rakhi Sawant it was just a piece of cloth which was tied just by two knots near her breast. If we untie the knots then her dress will fall and she will be undressed. This kind of dresses will change a good mind to bad. We must know what to wear where. Yes there may be a little conditioned freedom is needed when we go to public because not all eyes and minds are same.

The true Diwali Starts within our Hearts and Souls… before being celebrated at Home!

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I was very tired after such a hectic day on Sunday, and even yesterday, since my son didn’t resume school back after his mid-term holidays, because of the bad weather outside and due to some health complications, which made that I had to look after him and at the same time catch back a lot of delayed chores and prepare dinner, but I didn’t want to fall asleep without writing that blog post, which I could publish this morning only due to network problems I occurred last night because of slow-down of Internet connection. Last Sunday was a very special day: It was Diwali Day.

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For those who never heard about Diwali, in the Hindu religion, it commemorates the return of Lord Rama from Lanka, after he defeated the King Demon Ravana, who kept Lord Rama’s wife Sita prisoner after having trapped and kidnapped her from her home, and saved the life of His beloved wife Sita. When Lord Rama returns to his homeland together with His wife Sita, He is welcomed by all his devotees with oil lamps called Diyas, which they illuminate all along His footsteps together with flowers to welcome Him and to celebrate His victory. Diwali is also the opportunity for Hindus to celebrate Goddess Laxmi, who is the Goddess of Wealth and Prosperity, whom they thank during that special occasion for all the good luck She has been bringing into Hindu families all over the past year, and also the Elephant God Ganesha, who is the Son of Lord Shiva and His wife Parvati and who represents the God who removes all obstacles, and Goddess Saraswati, who is the Goddess of Arts and Knowledge and spouse of the Creator God Brahma. On Diwali day, in India, in Mauritius like in every Hindu families, a couple of days before Diwali starts, families deep clean their houses, buy a new broom, a new cooking recipient, some new clothes and jewels for the occasion and at times start preparing some sweet cakes, since the varieties are numerous and that some of them need a long time of preparation. On Diwali morning, spouses keep on preparing some cakes and offer those cakes with the Holy Prashads (offers to God during prayer) to Laxmi Maa, Saraswati Maa, Lord Ganesha and also to Lord Rama and His Beloved wife Sita before packing the cakes and distributing them with all their family members, friends and loved ones before 06.00.pm, wearing their new clothes and jewels for that special occasion. The rest of the cakes that they don’t have time to distribute, they give them during the day after, since they need to be back at home before 06.00.pm to light on all the oil lamps (Diyas) before that time, which is the time, according to the Hindu ritual, where Goddess Laxmi enters the house of the family to bring Her holy blessings in the house. Diwali represents a very festive day, since after the rituals, youngsters and adults have a lot of fun with sparkles and firecrackers, folkloric songs and dances until late in the night.

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But through the experience that I had yesterday, the Diwali that I celebrated together with my little family was very different. We are still settled in the Seychelles all alone, since my son goes to school there and that my husband still works there. On Saturday, my son and my husband went for shopping to buy all the necessary stuffs for celebrating Diwali, whereas I stayed at home to proceed with a deep cleaning of the house. But since we were staying in an apartment that we were renting only temporarily, we didn’t buy any new broom nor recipient, but we only lit a new oil lamp at night for the evening prayer. On Sunday, my husband and I woke up very early to have shower, to perform our usual morning prayers and then, after a quick breakfast, I tidied the kitchen and started preparing the sweet cakes, while my husband was busy finishing an urgent work. To be honest, I have very few experience in cooking Indian sweet cakes, since it was only the second time in my life that I experienced cooking them on my own, and later I will explain you why. I first wanted to cook some Rasgoolahs, which are some little round cakes made with milk powder, which you should fry in hot cooking oil before rubbing them with a homemade cardamom syrup. Unfortunately, since we have an electric oven which heats too much, my Rasgoolahs got burnt and I had to throw all of them in the dustbin 😦 Furthermore, I tried another type of cakes, the Nankatais, which are some vegetarian cookies made with corn semolina. They were not too bad but they didn’t have the original shapes that Nankatais have in general, and rather looked like some ordinary cookies, but they were presentable and, according to my husband and to my son who enjoyed them to the core, they were delicious 🙂 So happy for them! After the Nankatais, I tried some Almond Barfis. Barfis are some cakes made with liquid and powder milk, sugar, cardamom powder and almond powder, which should have a thick texture after the Barfi paste gets colder and is then cut into some little diamond shape cakes. I tried the Barfi cakes and even included some green food colour in it to give it a more attractive presentation. However, since the Barfi didn’t have enough time to get colder due to the lack of time, the paste was very sticky when I tried to cut off the diamond shaped cakes! The taste was good though, but the presentation was a true disaster, and I learnt trough that catastrophe that next time, I shall prepare it the day before, so that the texture gets more firm. Finally I ended with Gulab Jamun, a sort of oval shape cake which resembles the Rasgoolah, but with a thicker texture since you add more flour in it. But when I tried the oval shape, I had difficulties to cook it because of the overheating oven, also I had to give the Gulab Jamun a round shape for a better cooking, and I may say I succeeded them. After the cakes were over, we gifted each type of cakes in front of our Deities which we regularly pray before distributing them with some of our neighbours and friends before lighting the Diyas at 06.00.pm. Contrary to the previous years, we only had two Diyas, one in our Prayer room, and one in our kitchen, since the kitchen represents the heart of Hindu homes, like all homes in general. We also got in touch with our relatives and close friends to share the Diwali wishes, looked after our young son, since he would resume school the day after, and my husband prepared a delicious carrot, potato and leak soup for dinner. And here I am, while my husband and my son are deep asleep, sharing you how my Diwali went on… And why I chose such a title to write my blog today.

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Before I share with you my personal experience, I have had the pleasure reading a recent post from one of my compatriots, where he expressed his own opinion about Diwali, and I really enjoyed that opinion because what he wrote in his post was completely right and summarises exactly what I have myself been experiencing before. He mentioned in his post exactly the way Mauritians celebrate Diwali nowadays: with hypocrisy and by showing off what they have. With the huge economical progress, lots of Mauritians tend to show off their wealth by building big houses, buying the latest high-tech products, the most expensive car, etc. But the medal reverse behind so much wealth is completely different and proves that the Mauritian society is based upon the principle that all what glitters isn’t true gold. To appear so much fortunate, Mauritians have a lot of debts since they need to contract loans with their banks or insurances, which they struggle to reimburse in return. There are some Mauritians coming from affluent families or of affluent personalities, who are protected by some religious communities, by freemasonry or who don’t even hesitate to call after sorcerers to be able to influence people through their fortune and words. There are some dealers who operate illegally in prostitution, child labour, drugs and all sorts of illicit businesses in exchange of dirty money. There are some corrupted people who either bribe their suppliers or superiors in exchange of money despite the active intervention of the ICAC in Mauritius to obtain some favours they don’t deserve. And it’s most of them who celebrate Diwali with so much extravaganza for the pleasure of showing off and without realising they are mocking Goddess Laxmi, and this without any shame nor remorse! And those same people expect that with so many lights decorating their houses, with huge Laxmi poojas celebrated in their houses, so many cakes shared with hypocrite Happy Diwali wishes to people they criticise, envy and dislike in reality, Laxmi Maa will step into their houses? And how about She shows Her anger by removing all the luck and wealth Her fake devotees accumulated for years to punish them,will they accept their fault or reject the wrong on others… including on Laxmi Maa?

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Regarding my own experience on Diwali, yes, I admit that I have also experienced Diwali in total ignorance and hypocrisy, but in a totally different concept. As I have mentioned in some of my posts, before marriage, I followed my parents’ religious steps mostly based on Roman Catholicism, Anglicanism and Christianity, before embracing Hinduism, though I kept on practising a few Catholic rituals after marriage, since my husband also praised Mother Mary regularly. I gave more details about that experience when I wrote about the way I took back the Hindu religion that my father rejected against his family’s approval. Since my father changed his religious orientation totally, as an ex-Hindu, he never felt the necessity to explain me the true meaning of Diwali, since myself I was christened Roman Catholic after I was born. However, for the pleasure of celebrating Diwali and being part of the Diwali festive mood, we enjoyed ourselves by buying Indian sweets and Diwali carton boxes, sharing the cakes and preparing the boxes equitably before sharing the cakes with my paternal relatives, and lightning some electric lamps… and even some Diyas! What was funny was that even though we were not following Hinduism, my father allowed that we would light Diyas, but he never explained me the meaning of the Diya… And myself, since I was so naive and ignorant, it never came into my mind to ask my father to explain me about the meaning of the Diya, nor about the difference between lightning a Diya and lightning some electric lamps. It’s through the news on television that I came to know about the meaning of the Diya and the information I obtained about its meaning was more than enough for my general, cultural and religious knowledge about Hinduism, since I wasn’t a Hindu devotee before marriage. After marriage, I embraced Hinduism, but yet, I admit that I had so much things to learn about Hinduism. My paternal family members were Hindus for the most of them, but none of them taught me about Hinduism, in one hand because my parents would never allow them to influence me on Hinduism because of my Christianity, in another hand because myself I was linked to Christianity and never wanted to betray my religion, which was the one in which my parents placed me since I was born. Things drastically changed after marriage, since, like I described in the post regarding my conversion to Hinduism, which I mentioned previously in that paragraph, I never expected that one day, I would be taught about the importance for me to embrace Hinduism after marriage. At first though, since I had no one to really explain me the basics that I was supposed to know, I ignored about the importance for me, as a spouse in a Hindu couple, to prepare the Diwali sweet cakes with my own hands by lightning myself the oven with my hands. I have been living in Madagascar from 2005 till 2009 and then had to leave Madagascar in emergency with my husband because of the socio-political crisis of 2009 which shook the country and forced so many expatriates to leave the country for safety reasons. But during all the time I was settled there, we had a Malagasy maid who used to prepare all our meals and who had a very strong experience in Pakistani cuisine, which mostly was alike Indian cuisine, at the exception of a few variants. Even Pakistani cuisine included Diwali sweets… But the difference was that Pakistani sweets all included eggs among the main ingredients, whereas Indian sweets excluded eggs, which was considered as an animal product as per Hinduism and wasn’t allowed to be used for cooking Indian sweets, especially since those sweets are distributed after prayer sessions with Hindu priests and during Diwali celebration and prayers, and also should be purely vegetarian sweets, by respect for the religion which didn’t authorise any animal product as offerings. Before marriage, my husband, who was already settled in Madagascar, then completely ignored that the Malagasy maid included eggs in the Diwali cakes she prepared for being distributed by my husband to his compatriots and colleagues, until one day, my mother-in-law, who was on holidays at his place in Madagascar, noticed that our maid included eggs and then forbid the maid using eggs again, explaining her as best as she could the meaning behind it, and the maid then stopped using eggs. Since it was the maid who used to prepare the cakes, and since she was already a good cook, I never cared about learning how to prepare food, and I admit it, since i came from a rich family where I had maids all the time to serve me, I was a spoilt child and I was never interested into learning the rules of being a good and independent housewife, until we had to leave Madagascar and that I retrieved myself on my own, and then forced to learn everything from scratch! For Diwali 2009, since we were living at my in-laws’ place, and 2013, during which we were on holidays at my in-laws’ place one year after our settlement in Seychelles, since my in-laws were preparing all the cakes and that we were mostly busy with our young son, I didn’t cook one single Diwali cake. For Diwali 2010 to 2012 that we celebrated in Mauritius, during which we were renting my husband’s uncle’s house until we would obtain our own house in January 2013, we could manage with some Rasgoolah, but we even ordered some cakes outdoors to complete what we cooked, but some of my in-laws, especially my sister-in-law, who was known to be always competitive with me since we know each other, was all the time teasing me ironically because of that, and it really pricked me though I never replied her anything to her provocations. But for the last three Diwalis that we celebrated in Seychelles from 2014 to 2016, we had to manage on our own. In 2014, my husband helped me a lot, whereas the two other years, since he was at work and our son at school in 2015, and since my husband was very busy with an emergency task this year, I had to manage on my own. I won’t say that my cakes were brilliant, but one thing was sure, I did my very best and I was proud that I could try to follow the Hindu tradition for Diwali as a true Hindu spouse after so many years of struggle and wrong experience choices. I understood that, as a Hindu spouse, for Diwali, it was of my duty, as a Laxmi in my family and in the home that I represent together with my husband and my child, it was MY duty to light the fire from MY oven, in MY kitchen, in MY home. It was MY duty to bake the cakes with MY efforts and own hands. It was finally MY duty to be the first person in the family to light the oil lamp for Diwali to welcome Laxmi Maa. It WAS NOT the Malagasy maid’s hands which counted to light the oven and prepare the cakes, though she did it in our house. It WAS NOT my mother-in-law to light her oven in her kitchen and to prepare the cakes. Because the efforts for those cakes and prayers were coming from OTHER PEOPLE, and it was THOSE PEOPLE who were harvesting the prosperity from Laxmi Maa, and NOT the three of us, since the efforts didn’t come from ME, the Hindu Housewife.

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However, this year, we were away from my in-laws, from our native country and from my family. People were pitying us because of that, thinking that we were sad for being alone, but it wasn’t true, at least for me personally. Yes, it’s true that I was alone, but I wasn’t lonely. I wasn’t lonely since after so many struggles I had been experiencing with my own family, and which I had been sharing in several of my previous blog posts, I totally eliminated my biological family from my life, and that I came to understand, after so many difficulties, that there was no worth for me to have a biological family with heartless, fake, hypocrite and hurtful and hateful feelings towards me. I wasn’t lonely, since I eliminated a lot of people among even my in-laws, who deceived me a lot through their behaviour towards me and the numerous critics and gossips I had been victim of since I entered my family-in-law and embraced their name, rites and rituals. Among those in-laws, I especially kept grudge against my father-in-law, who prefers my other sister-in-law than me, since she is the one who completes him the best, and I also keep grudge against my sister-in-law herself since she always keeps on competing with me since I entered the family. And you won’t believe me, but I didn’t even greet them Happy Diwali, since I didn’t want to be hypocrite with anyone this year, and that I preferred keeping silent instead of wishing Happy Diwali hypocritically to people that I dislike and despise. I wasn’t lonely since I moved away from my native country, where I had been unfortunate before and even after marriage and where I only keep bitter memories instead of sweet ones because of my family, most of my in-law, bad school experience during which I was considered a loner and at times was even bullied at school, where I never knew about experiencing a good socio-cultural life, and where unfortunately I made so many bad choices among those I thought would be true friends for me, but who were just illusions, at the exception of very few Mauritian people whom I still cherish a lot, but who made the object of a very selective choice by myself and at times with intervention of my husband. Finally, I wasn’t lonely, like I mentioned before, because I eliminated so many fake friends who turned either strangers or enemies to me through some bitter and unexpected life circumstances. I spent Diwali mostly with my husband and my son, through farewell thoughts shared with some people dear to me but geographically living away from me, through some people in the neighbourhood with whom I have a rather good relationship… and with God above all. But hell yes, I was alone… But I was happy, since I wasn’t lonely.

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By the same way, even though I didn’t succeed my cakes, though there were times I panicked under effect of stress and pressure, and at times because my son was mischievous with me in the kitchen, I gave so much punishment to myself to prepare all those cakes, and though at times my husband reproached me drastically when he found that my cakes weren’t good at all, though after those reproaches I wanted to let everything down, sit down and burst in tears, I found back the courage I started to loose to improve my preparations as best as possible, and though the final result wasn’t exactly what was expected, the cakes were tasty and delicious… But unfortunately, it seems that in Seychelles, local people don’t like sweet cakes too much, which means that unfortunately none of the cakes I baked for Diwali were consumed by my husband’s Seychellois colleagues. Only one of his colleagues from South Africa enjoyed the cakes, since he loved tasting new stuffs, but that was all. I was very deceived, and I even interpreted their reaction as pure racism and despise against Indians and Mauritians, which means that I swore to myself to never bake so many cakes next time, if those cakes will finally finish in the dustbin or in a forgotten corner of the kitchen cupboard or fridge. I was very deceived that so much energy and fatigue has been used finally for nothing when it came about sharing. But what consoled me though was that before sharing the cakes, I could perform my prayers in total simplicity and with a sincere heart.

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Finally, during all the times we celebrated Diwali in Seychelles, neither I nor my husband nor our son, except that year at least for our son with new clothes we succeeded buying for him during our latest trip overseas, had the opportunity to wear new clothes and accessories. We appeared in front of God and in front of people with our previous clothes but which were still in good state. We couldn’t even buy  new broom this year to clean the flat we are actually renting, since we are renting it temporarily only, nor a new cooking recipient to cook our cakes for the same reason as the broom. But we succeeded lightning a new Diya that we never used before, and this the day before the Diwali Day. The fact that we could at least light a new Diya this year was the most important for us since we at least succeeded welcoming a new light full of hope and courage in our lives, after so many struggles that we had been facing in our little family and in our marriage life. The way I had to manage on my own most of the Diwali celebration this year, and even last year was difficult, but my husband interpreted that experience as a test, since a true Hindu housewife, since she stands as a Laxmi in a Hindu family, must represent the rock of the family through both thick and thin, and be able to bear both the joyful moments and burdens of life upon her shoulders.

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Myself, through the years since I married, the more years go by, the stronger I feel I am becoming, though I admit I am still very fragile and vulnerable and that I need protection from stronger people than me to succeed in life. But that latest Diwali tested me and taught me some tough lessons: Quality instead of quantity. Sincerity and honesty versus show off and hypocrisy. Finally, the importance of the presence of the light inside our own hearts, souls and auras before spreading it in our houses and prayer rooms, since the first door Laxmi Maa will enter is the inner door to our hearts, souls and auras, and then the doors of our houses and surroundings.

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So on those words above and as I mentioned in my WhatsApp status, I am wishing Happy Diwali to all my dearest ones, the ones whom I cherish the best and sincerely, but I am not wishing Happy Diwali to those whom I dislike and despise, because they don’t deserve it. However for those same people, who represent my enemies, I wish them that the Light of God penetrates their inner selves and succeeds into cleansing their hearts and souls from all the darkness and shadows making them haunted and miserable, and that they feel the blessing and the welfare of that Light of God within themselves for a positive change, for themselves to start, and then for the rest of the world.

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I’m never gonna say I’m sorry for one thing: TRUTH!

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Malin and Jenny Cecilia from Ace of Base, performing on music video “Never Gonna Say I’m Sorry” (1996)

 

Click here for the video of the clip “Never Gonna Say I’m Sorry” from Ace of Base

Never gonna say I’m sorry – Ace of Base

I’m never gonna say I’m sorry
I’m a clown for everyone
I’m never gonna let you down,
I’m always here like a sun

I’m a loser, that is a fact for sure
I’m happy even if you don’t want
To invite me out for a dance tonight
I’m not normal, I know it, I don’t care

I’m never gonna say I’m sorry
I’m a clown for everyone
I’m never gonna let you down,
I’m always here like a sun

I’m never gonna say I’m sorry
I’m a clown for everyone
I’m never gonna let you down,
I’m always here like a sun

I’m always here like a sun, I’m always here

Like a ghost I follow your steps so true
You don’t have to bribe me or fill me up
Give me a minute to shine with you
I will make you so happy, make you laugh

I’m never gonna say I’m sorry for the essence of my soul
There’s so many ways to change my life
‘Cause I want to…oh
I’m like a clown, I am fun for everyone…

I’m never gonna say I’m sorry…

I am sharing those lyrics from one of the tunes on which I enjoyed dancing and singing during my teenage years, since I have an important message to spread to all my readers about why I have no regrets, further to the latest blog posts that I recently published on my blog, in which I shared with my readers several fragments of my personal and family life. I admit I may have shocked so many of my readers with my personal views. But I’m never gonna say I’m sorry.

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Why should I be sorry for telling the truth and for revealing to the world the true part of me that no one wants to see, but that everyone needs to see? I remember that a friend of mine very often wrote me that, in our exchanges of emails. People write only to please the audience and to be paid, but there’s nothing true nor sincere in whatever they are writing. Do you remember the text that once I wrote, “Jo March and Proofreading“? This is the typical example of the fake story vs the true story. Remember how her first book she wrote was rejected, despite so many days of hard work from Jo. All this because, though the book was perfectly written, the story was meaningless and not interesting at all. But when Jo’s younger sister Beth passed away, for the first time Jo opened her heart through the lines she wrote within one whole night, and that time her novel was published, because the voice of the heart was there.

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Through that example, that is why, even though I admitted in that post that proofreading is necessary when you sell your book, I am deep inside myself against proofreading. I don’t care whether my English is insufficient. I know that my English is insufficient. But what is worth for my readers? A sincere message written in a poor English? Or a hypocrite message written in a perfect English? I still remember the harsh words from my ex-best friend, who highly criticized me for writing average college English instead of having the English level of her Majesty the Queen! HAHAHAHAHA! WTF again! And what made me laughing was that it made her really sick that I wrote in average English 😀 Sorry for you my dear ex-best friend… I may not write in the perfect English of Her Majesty the Queen, but at least I am showing my true colors… So sorry for you if I caused you disease for being real, but unfortunately I have no cure against that disease I caused to you… Tata bye bye… And get well soon, dear Miss Perfect English!

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Have you heard about the French quote which says “Too polite to be honest?” Yes, we are too polite in society because we have been taught by our parents to be polite since we were born. Yes, we are too well-mannered because we have been taught by our parents to be well-mannered. The mask of politeness and of good manners is in front of everyone’s faces, and perfectly covers people’s true colors. Exactly like make-up does, like I wrote it on my previous post about my Lokni’s wedding.

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I once remembered that my mother told someone those words which today make me smile: “My daughter is polite… But it stops here.” Which means that for her, I am nothing else than an empty canned box which makes a lot of noise, but which has anything inside herself. If that’s her opinion, then it suits me perfectly 🙂 Indeed, you are never judged for what you represent deep inside yourself, but only through the appearance that you show in front of people nah? You judge people and things through what you see, and not with the heart, don’t you? This is whatever lots of people tend to do nowadays, and that’s what encourages a lot of people to wear a mask when they are in public. Why? Because they are scared. They are scared of being true, of being themselves. They are scared about the hearabouts, the critics, or whatever people may think about them. But wait a minute… Who are we to judge others? No one is perfect. Only God can judge us. Only God can determine the good and the bad within each of us. So why should we remain prisoner of that motherf*****g mask of hypocrisy, just to “please people”? Why is that easier for us to wear that mask of torture only to please people? It seems that we are really masochist nah? Because we prefer torturing our true inner self to please other imperfect humans like us… Instead of being true and having the guts to disturb the aura of hypocrite people and hypocrite society. Soooooooo sad!!!

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Madonna – “Truth or Dare” song video

 

But this is not only in that purpose that I decided to write that blog post today. I would like to write that blog post since I would like to salute, encourage and support a group of people in my country who perfectly understood that the concept of wearing a mask was completely ridiculous. A group of people behind that project, who live their lives in total transparency, in public, with their family, in private and in their professional and academical lives. Without those people, we would have never known the meaning of TRUTH, and believe me, TRUTH is REALLY what Mauritius needs to be unstuck from the numerous diseases which made of it a sick and hypocrite society. Because of COMMUNALISM. Because of RACISM. Because of INSANE COMPETITION. Because of SUPERFICIALITY due to… Zee TV? Bollywood blockbusters? Telenovelas? Intox in several media and newspapers? Yes! ALL OF THEM! Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome with a BIG CLAP the brand new online news room “Made in Mauritius”, where “only the truth, and nothing but the truth” is their policy: THE ELEPHANT.MU!

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The idea behind that project comes from the mind of a Mauritian youth who wanted, not only to bring something new to the Mauritian media, but who wanted to demonstrate, together with a group of people, how we should spread the media and also our opinions in total transparency in Mauritius, and that it’s important to be well informed before you write anything or comment on any other opinion. That same Mauritian youth, unfortunately, has been so many times victim of lots of haters, who didn’t hesitate to spread fake rumors about some so-called controversies, for which he claimed his innocence. But contrary to other people who won’t hesitate to bark to claim their innocence, he preferred opting for silence and for moving on. I give him right. Because dogs bark only when they don’t know people they see in their territory, right? So let the dogs bark and move on… And that is his life philosophy, on which I completely agree. The people who barked against him thought that they could destroy him, but instead, he made of their barking his new war whoop against lies, hypocrisy, intox and superficiality. The Elephant.Mu is that brave youngster’s war whoop. His team’s war whoop. But also EVERY MAURITIAN CITIZEN’S WAR WHOOP.

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Sanctuary of Truth in Pattaya – Thailand

 

But one question I asked myself when I saw the name of the news room and its purpose was… But what is the link between the truth and the elephant? I then did some researches and then saw an ancient Indian Folklore about the Blind Men and the Elephant, which, according to that source, “tells the story of six blind sojourners that come across different parts of an elephant in their life journeys. In turn, each blind man creates his own version of reality from that limited experience and perspective. In philosophy departments throughout the world, the Blind Men and the Elephant has become the poster child for moral relativism and religious tolerance.” I saw another interesting source about that link since I saw the picture from the sanctuary of Truth in Pattaya, which was described in that source as “a very special place where Thai culture as well as religion, art and philosophy come together in perfect harmony.” Another proof on how elephant and truth perfectly match together. The statue of the three-headed elephant God known in Thailand as Erawan, which also represents the Hindu God Airavata, and is also a form of representation of the Hindu Trilogy Brahma the Creator, Vishnu the Keeper and Mahesh/Shiva the Destroyer, like depicted in that article. As you may have noticed, there are so many philosophies which turn around the link between the truth and the elephant. The articles about the three-headed elephant, and how it’s depicted in several Asian countries and in India coincides with the different perceptions of truth about the elephant from the blind men, for finally agreeing together that it’s an elephant that they have been touching. Each of the team members and bloggers who contribute into developing that interesting news room represents a fragment of that team based on “the truth, and nothing but the truth”, and each of them has a fragment of truth to bring and on which everyone will end by concluding that together, they all built… The Truth. Finally, another detail which came in my mind regarding that link between the truth and the elephant is about a video clip I once saw on YouTube, “Eyes of Truth” from Enigma, which depicts the scene of a young mother who sends her baby on a floating cot on a sacred river to an unknown destination. The mother is seen praying God Surya to protect her child. The child grows up and has an elephant as animal companion, which brings him to a sacred town where he is welcomed with flowers all over his pathway, in the same way Lord Jesus was welcomed as the Messiah in the Town of Jerusalem. After he reaches the soil, the baby is taken under the care of a mother elephant, who will become his animal companion and bring the young boy to a journey, where he will discover at the same time the beauty of Nepal, and also how the human being is destroying its beauty by putting fire in it. At the end of his journey, he is welcomed in that sacred city, where he is worshipped like a God Child, before quietly continuing his journey with the elephant. Truth exists within the eyes of every child, and what is sad is that we all forgot that we had an inner child within us, since we are enrobed in that world of superficiality, lies and hypocrisy every day.

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Moscow and Paris

I remember having recently read an article regarding the unforgettable experience of a French tourist who visited Russia, and who went back to his country with so many Russian friends and wonderful memories, which encouraged him to come back again. And when he came back after several years, though the political relationship between both countries recently deteriorated, his same Russian friends welcomed him with arms wide open and with the same kindness and hospitality, regardless to the political tensions between the two countries. This is another part of truth that we tend to base ourselves on: We base ourselves on what our Leaders are showing us, all this because… The example comes from above. I don’t agree on that point. The example comes from both above and below, and there the example should come from below. If the simple French citizen befriended the simple Russian citizen, then why shouldn’t two political leaders of those same countries take example on their friendship, which is a simple and pure friendship without any bias? This is another example on how the human being, when he becomes popular, makes his life and relationships complicated, whereas a simple truth between that French tourist and his Russian friends could perfectly attract their attention to improve their political relationship, not only for them both, but also for their own nations.

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The VW Factory in Germany

 

Finally, I would like to share with you all another point: One day, I saw an interesting building picture taken in Germany, but which unfortunately I couldn’t retrace back to share it with you. Meanwhile, I saw the one above during my researches, representing the VW factory in Germany, and which was a transparent building. This picture reminded me of another transparent building, maybe one of the rarest ones, that we have in Mauritius, which is our famous Mauritius Commercial Bank Building in Ebene, where you can openly see people working and moving in total transparency, including in the office restaurant on the groundfloor. Buildings are also a proof of total transparency that people are making some honest work, and I pray that one day, The Elephant.Mu has a building like that. That Mauritian youth who had the good idea to create that concept is also the leader of two national movements, “YUVA Mauritius” and “La Voix Nationale“, and they also kept on proving since the very beginning that all what they do are in total transparency, regardless to whatever people may say against them. And if people talk against them, it’s simple: Because The Elephant.Mu, YUVA Mauritius and La Voix Nationale are proclaimers of the TRUTH, and because TRUTH really DISTURBS the Mauritian society, which prefers basing itself on sugar-coated appearances to be happy. But it’s time now for our society to change and to be settled on TRUTH BASIC, if we want our little island’s image to be taken as a perfect example of good governance and of good art of living for the Indian Ocean, the African Continent, the Commonwealth and the Rest of the World. So WAKE UP, Mauritius! And never feel sorry for telling the truth. Instead, be sorry for opting for the fake and change yourself. Because like Michael Jackson once sang, “If you wanna make the world a better place, just take a look at yourself, then make a change!”

The New Equation: Friends x Enemies = “Frenemies”

I remember that one day, during my college years, I came into a classroom for a next tuition. I was in secondary school, and we never stayed in the same classroom all the time, but always moved in different classrooms for our tuition. After the first morning break, I once moved into a classroom, for which the black board hadn’t yet been cleaned, and on which there was a maths tuition written from another teacher to another class before our arrival.

I wasn’t very strong in mathematics, but I remember a lesson of multiplication that I learnt so many times and that you all may remember well:

  • Plus x Plus = Plus
  • Minus x Minus = Plus
  • Plus x Minus = Minus
  • Minus x Plus = Minus

That teacher who wrote the lesson was reputed to be quite eccentric in his way of teaching maths. But though his teaching may have sound funny on that day, it really represented to me a true source of inspiration regarding my new life experiences as an adult. To help his students better understanding those equations, he used metaphors to symbolize those equations, defining the Plus as Friends, and the Minus as Enemies. Here was then the result of his new equation:

  • Plus x Plus = Minus –> The Friend of my Friend is my Friend
  • Minus x Minus = Plus –> The Enemy of my Enemy is my Friend
  • Plus x Minus = Minus –> The Friend of my Enemy is my Enemy
  • Minus x Plus = Minus –> The Enemy of my Friend is my Enemy.

It’s possible in Mathematics, that’s for sure. But it’s not always possible in real life. It is more complex than that and the life experiences I have been facing personally and which I would like to share with you prove that, as well that equation is perfect in mathematics, as well it’s imperfect in everyday life.

  1. The friend of my friend… may also be my worst enemy.

Incredible but true! That happened to me recently since I had the bad surprise of my life after a terrible incident happened between me and a friend of someone whom I really appreciated and whom I considered as my young brother of heart and young guru at the same time. One of his friends once sent me a friends request from her Facebook account, which accepted. For the four first days following approval of her friend request, we never talked to each other, until she approached me and revealed some surprising information regarding something which happened between her and my friend while he visited her overseas. I was so shocked that I thought that it was a hoax and that she was a mess maker who wanted to create some mess in my friend’s private life. Also, without even thinking about what I was doing, I reacted extremely violently and even insulted her, and I even made of that matter a public matter without my friend’s consent! That incident created some useless tensions among our group of friends and because of that, instead of seeing within me someone who tried to protect her dearest one’s privacy against a troublemaker, everyone turned besides him and all of them blamed me and turned against me, including himself. That girl who approached me said to be a friend of my friend, but not only did she become my enemy after what happened, but she also turned everyone in the group from friends to enemy… Including my friend himself! Today, not only we never reconciled, but we became sworn enemies, and that so-called friends dared even creating tensions in my marriage life by involving my husband in that matter! But my husband was clever enough to understand that this so-called friend of mine was in reality a ravenous wolf and a fake friend who only worried for his ego instead of worrying about other people and he never played my so-called friend’s game.

2. The enemy of my enemy is my friend. It’s possible. As well as it’s possible that my friend’s enemy can be my enemy. As well too that it’s possible that my friend becomes my sworn enemy… and that his or her own sworn enemy becomes my best friend.

Yes it’s possible. And that so-called friend of mine proved it right, since he dared brainwashing me against someone whom he dared calling a “friend” since they know each other on the college benches, but despite all, that so-called friend of mine dared tarnishing that “friend”‘s reputation, since he always mentioned that this “friend” always kept on competing with him all the time in an insane way to impress people instead of inspiring people. Like every blind follower, instead of trying to know more about that competitor, I blindly believed my so-called friend’s purposes and I immediately got disgusted against his competitive “friend” without even knowing him in person. But when my so-called friend and I turned sworn enemies, by myself I tried to know more about his competitor with my own opinion independently from others’ opinions, and what I noticed about his personality completely contrasted with all the lies, fake rumors and intox spread against him, not only by social platforms, but even from the local media. I was especially guilty since I saw a blog post he mentioned about, where he denounced a hater who created such a huge bunch of hatred against him, after he published a book about one of our most popular Political Leaders, and which was the result of such a hard work which made of that book a very popular one. It then reminded about my own fault, when myself I blindly trusted my ex-friend about him, and then I had the proof that my ex-friend got all wrong and that himself blindly followed the intox, rumors and hearsays against his competitor, whereas himself. I felt so guilty that I took the courageous initiative to apologise with the competitor, and a few days after the competitor came to know more about me and then told me frankly how I have been escaping from so far since, further to so many attacks against him, I and all the rest of the band could have been jailed for defamation. That made me guiltier, but at the same time, I think that I have been taught one of the toughest life lessons of my life. Maybe some of you won’t believe me, but I never apologised towards the competitor with a spirit of revenge against my ex-friend for having betrayed me, but I apologised towards the competitor since I came to know the truth about him with my own eyes and through my own researches about him. Words are more than enough to tarnish someone’s reputation and to blacken someone’s name, as well as attitude. But where I am thankful to my ex-friend is that, by wanting to influence me against that competitor, he gifted me a new friend within that competitor.

3. The friend of my enemy isn’t always my enemy… It can also be my friend.

I have experienced it so many times. A couple of years ago, further to some gossips a maid proclaimed between me and a good friend of mine, we turned from good friends to sworn enemies too, and this for years. That tension started also being spread on my husband’s professional situation, since my husband was working with my friend’s husband, who was his boss in the same company. Unfortunately, after we, as their wives, turned from friends to enemies because of that maid, who appeared between us as a ravenous wolf who could never bear seeing two women like us being so close to each other, she had the guts to put a mess between us and she succeeded for a couple of years. That created all a series of tensions between the both of us and those tensions also repercuted between our husbands, and then the friendship was temporarily broken. We had a couple of friends whom we had in common, but since the friendship was broken, our couple of friends were then forced to welcome us to their place separately. With time and space, the couple of friends made a try to make both our husbands having a first contact as a start of reconciliation. My husband didn’t mind talking to his ex-boss, since they were no more colleagues after the company shut its doors, and it seems that his ex-boss even burst in tears after he talked to my husband as someone who had a lot of regrets. Little by little they became closer and my husband’s ex-boss revealed to my husband about some serious issues he faced in his new job and which made that he was jobless. At first, I never accepted their reconciliation and persisted that I would keep my position against the ex-boss’s wife. But through time and space, our common friends made us understanding that the friendship between the two husbands and their common friends would be possible but in secret, since no reconciliation would be possible between the two wives. When I heard about it, then I started feeling guilty and then I took conscience that my friend truly loved me, but that I got foolishly blinded by that maid, who was a complete stranger and who succeeded creating a huge mess between the both of us. Also, I damned that maid in my heart, and I decided to repair my mistake by trying a first contact with my husband’s ex-boss, until I could do the first step with his wife. Little by little, all the dark clouds in our friendship got dissipated and our circle of friends got reunited again.

Another proof on how, from friendship to enmity, it’s possible to change, and this because of a third-party who had nothing to do between two friends and who should have stayed away from us, especially if it’s a total stranger or a maid. But the link with the title “the friend of my enemy can also be my friend” is that, as well our common friends esteemed my husband’s ex-boss and his wife, they estimated my husband and myself in an equal way and remained neutral between the altercation which occurred between us, even though they did their best to create a reconciliation between us through that first contact between our husbands. Another proof that it is possible is that, further to the enmity which took birth between me and that so-called friend of mine I mentioned before, in our circle of friends there was a lady who still esteemed him a lot since she had no personal issues with him, but who at the same time supported me greatly and showed me openly where I was right and where I was wrong, and obviously as well where he was right and where he was wrong, with the difference that, contrary to the common friends my husband, his ex-boss, his wife and I had in common, the lady never created any mediation between me and my ex-friend, but instead supported me, by at the same time showing me the right and the wrong and also sharing her own experiences with me, and thanks to her unconditional support and the support I had with some personal friends of mine, though it was very hard at the beginning, I succeeded into forgiving my ex-friend and to move on. Forgiving him not because I accepted what he did to me, nor because I want to be friends with him again, but simply because I estimate I had been suffering enough because of him and that I didn’t have any more strength nor courage to bear the sorrow he caused to me and the tears of blood he made me shedding for such a long time.

4. Finally, the friend of my enemy can also be… a “frienemy”… An enemy disguised as a friend.

Have you ever heard about the Biblical warning regarding false prophets who appear in front of you sheep-coated, but who are in reality ravenous and deceitful wolves? Have you also heard about the term “sugar-coated” words, but for which the inner taste is extremely bitter? This also applies for a “frienemy”, and God knows how many of them came to me when I had that altercation with my ex-friend… They came to me to have my version of the facts and by pretending to be besides me, but after I gave them my version of the facts, they reported me to my ex-friend, exactly as if they were selling me like a vulgar prostitute! That was exactly what I have been experiencing for so many years, not only through strangers, but even in my own family. Unfortunately, there have always been a lot of tensions between me and my parents, since I had the bad luck being a part of a toxic family, among them a passive and indifferent father, and an extremely authoritatian and narcissic mother, like I demonstrated in several of my writings. Things got worse further to that altercation between my parents and my in-laws several years ago, and what was more deceitful was that, most of my family members knew that my parents were wrong and that my mother was a narcissic person, but instead of supporting me, none of them was interested into having my personal version of the facts, and most of them remained indifferent in front of my sufferings and blindly listened to my mother as if they were listening to the Holy Scriptures! By the same way, a few of my family members pretended to support me by having my own version of the facts, but instead, they misused my purposes against me by repeating everything to my mother, and then I came to know that those relatives of mine acted as spies and were sent by my mother herself! What was most deceitful was that those relatives of mine who betrayed me were the ones I cherished the most in the past, and who didn’t even hesitate to stoop so low and to be so disloyal with me! So many years of so-called loyal relationship suddenly thrown in dustbin, which made of me the new black sheep of the family!

CONCLUSION

As well as mathematics represents an exact science art, it’s not the same thing for the feelings and relationship equations nowadays, in a world made of so much hypocrisy and ego. And “frienemies” are unfortunately not only among the strangers who bark uselessly because they don’t know you, but also among the society that you frequent, and even within your own circle and your own family. Remember when Lord Jesus was betrayed by Juda, one of his apostles, before being sentenced to death in exchange of the thirty pieces of silver. That was exactly how some of my relatives betrayed me because of my narcissistic mother. One of my relatives was offered a golden chain and a pair of ear rings in exchange of revealing all my confidences I did when I was in pain against my parents. One of them reconciled with my mother since she was thankful to my mother for having cherished her when she was still a little girl and since my mother proposed her hospitality during her holidays recently for her younger sister’s marriage. And so many of them are acting like this. Same for my so-called friend, who succeeded into attracting so many people who befriended me against me because of his overseas friend whom I once attacked in the framework of protecting my so-called friend’s privacy, and this by satisfying those people’s personal needs. And that is how “frenemies” appear: Fake friends who won’t hesitate to snatch you in exchange of some favors offered to them by your enemies. And for me, “frenemies” and “enemies” are the same, with the difference that “frenemies” are more difficult to recognize. The other difference as well is that it’s rare that enemies regret their past actions against you, but “frenemies”, when they come to know the truth about you, come to you and then repair their mistakes and apologise, but unfortunately most of the time too late. Finally, true friends are like precious stones but rare, and none of the poisonous gifts given to them by your sworn enemies will affect them, and they won’t even hesitate to throw those gifts in the enemies’ ugly faces as well. In illustration of all what I said, I have a special thought for my national idol and role model, Krishna Athal, who experimented also frenemity because of a certain Paul who didn’t hesitate to spread the mud in his name since his first book was published. But let’s say thank you to that bastard, because by creating such a vague of hatred against Krishna, he didn’t realize that he improved into contributing more into increasing his popularity:

Facebook: Where “Frenemies” come to meet