Recent Update

It has been a while and a lot of things have happened since my last blog entry.

Despite the financial situation I was in towards the end of 2013, I made my television debut on BBC's Sherlock. My role was that of an Indian detective during a press conference in 'Mumbai'. We actually shot the scene in Treforest Industrial Estate, Wales. It was there that I met the Hobbit's Martin Freeman when we lined up for lunch. It was unfortunate that I did not film a scene with him. Prior to rehearsing, I met a gorgeous blonde actress. I was standing there with a group of Chinese students who were asked to play Buddhist monks. She came up to me and asked me the question something along the lines of "do you know where the coffee table is?". I pointed her to the table and she ended up walking towards it. I had a feeling she already knew where it was so why was she asking me that? The other guys looked at me and just nodded their heads with disappointment. They told me that she seemed to be attracted to me but I was oblivious to this, I always am.

It was also at this point that I started working at a law firm. Having trained to be a lawyer, I might as well put my education to good use. The line of work that I was dealing with was not what I had imagined. It was depressing. Most of the cases involved reviewing medical records of deceased individuals. I was still not over the death of my mother so for me it was difficult to cope. We eventually agreed that it was not working out and I left the firm in the final quarter of 2014.

I had also worked on a popular television series Da Vinci's Demons. To be quite honest with you, I had never watched the show but I have had recurring roles on it. My first appearance was on Season 2 as a Turkish elite warrior training on a sand dune with 3 others. We had spent 3 days on set in Merthyr Mawr, again in Wales. It was an enjoyable experience.

In February 2014 I had visited the crossroads of the world, Istanbul with a old friend of mine. We only spent 3 days there but I loved exploring the historically rich city. I took my Canon camera and wanted to shoot some beautiful pictures of the Hagia Sophia, the Blue Mosque and the Bosphorus river - photos can be found on my instagram Youngsheezy. After leaving the law firm, I ended up going to Tunisia. It was my first time going to North Africa and I throughly enjoyed it. I explored some of the mosque's and visited the remains of the Roman Colosseum at El Djem.

Luckily for me when I got back, I had another 5 day shoot on Da Vinci's Demons filming a battle scene with the main cast. I made some good friend's and worked with the Action/Stunt team. 

Well that's all I can write at present so stay tuned for another update.

We Are What We Dream

Dreams are successions of images, ideas, emotions, and sensations that occur involuntarily in the mind during the REM (Rapid Eye Movement) stage of sleep.

In my opinion, many dreams contain messages that teach us something about ourselves. However for most of us, as soon as we wake up we are unable to recall what we dreamt.

Although this hasn't been the case for me lately. Despite not getting much sleep, I still manage to dream and I've remembered what I've dreamt about. I've managed to have the same dream for 5 consecutive nights. They're nightmares and once I wake up, I'm unable to go to sleep. Is message in my recurring dreams so important and/or powerful that it refuses to go away? The frequency of such dreams has forced me to pay attention and confront the dream. So what is this recurring dream I have you may be asking yourselves. It all centers around my late mother. The dream starts off with the city streets abandoned and I'm with my mother in our house I look out the window and see zombies. It is safe to assume that we are in a zombie appocalyptic world. I tell my mother not to switch on any lights and make loud noises as that would attract their attention. But we then soon run out of food. Since she isn't well, It's up to me to gather supplies from the nearby ASDA. I tell my mother not to worry and won't be gone for too long. Having finally gotten to ASDA, it is filled with zombies so I quickly grab what I can and head off. Once I get outside my mum's house, they've managed to get through the window and the light is on. My mother has died and there is nothing I can do about it. I run away trying to find another safe place. Once I find one, I usually wake up.

The weird thing is, I had this recurring dream before my mother passed away but now the frequency of getting it is higher. In reality, I left my mother on the day she left for hospital to play football. When she needed me the most, I let her down for my own selfish needs. I can't forgive myself. I just can't and now find myself crying as I write this. I've read that recurring dreams are quite common and are often triggered by a certain life situation, transitional phase in life or a problem that keeps coming back again and again. Such dreams may be highlighting a personal weakness, fear, or your inability to cope with something in your life; past or present. The last 5 months without her have been difficult. It's just me on my own now with no family left. I know that I'm unable to cope with her and she knew this herself yet death is something that will eventually come to us all whether we like it or not. We are not immortal but we act as we are.

My other dreams have also left me something to remember. Another recurring dream I get is one where I am 5 years old and holding my mother's hand walking down Cowbridge Road, Canton, Cardiff near Castle Bingo or where the old Sommerfields supermarket used to be. It has changed throughout the years from a Hyper-Value to present day Home Bargains. I look up at her as she's talking to someone and then looks down at me and smiles making me hold her hand tighter. That is the end and I wake up.

A few days ago, I had dream like none other. I was my 5 year old self again and being held in my mother's arms with my head on her shoulders. It felt so real as if she was really there. I was extremely happy. She told me that everything will be ok. I didn't want this dream to end. I wanted to stay in this world. The world that I wake up to is hell. I'd rather be where she is now then continue with my current meaningless existence. Fine, I am surviving by being homeless but how long can I live like this? I know myself that I can't continue living like this.

One dream that shook me up was that I was on some rollercoaster and as with all rollercoasters, it went up and down at extreme speeds. Was my mind telling me that in life, there are ups and downs? But I knew this anyway so why was I reminded of this. I don't know.  

Last night, I had a dream that I saw an old friend of mine, my best friend from infant school. He came over and shook my hand offering his condolences while I sat there on the ground in a busy street. My beard has grown quite long along with my hair and my clothes were filthy. I started to cry as he was talking to me. I could hear a song being played on the piano, a beautiful piece that I know but as of this moment, I can't remember the name. Strange thing is that when I woke up, I had tears down my face. I should do some research into this. 

Who knows what I'll dream of tonight. I may not even get some good sleep.

"I want abs like yours"

The rectus abdominis muscle, also known as "abs" or a "six pack", is a paired muscle running vertically on each side of the anterior wall of the human abdomen (and in some other animals). There are two parallel muscles, separated by a midline band of connective tissue called the linea alba (white line).

I had a friend recently ask me what I do to maintain a six pack and how he can get one. I told him I'd write an article about it so here it is. I'm sure others will also want to know.

The abdominals have always had an effect on women and it is not surprising that women love a ripped and chiseled mid-section on a man. Men should strive for that six-pack, and no, I'm not referring to Budweiser, Guiness or Strongbow. It is just one of many other indicators that you are in good health.

Not all women however want rock hard abs on their man though. They just prefer a flat stomach if their partner or ideal man is unable to get abs. "No woman wants to have sex with a man who has to physically lift his belly in order to put it in." Wow, I never knew that that was possible.

From sculpture and other art works, the ancient greeks appreciated leaness and muscular aesthetics. Statues of Herakles (Hercules), the Hellenistic piece of Laocoon and his sons found in Rome and the Barberini Faun of Munich focus on such features. Therefore the western world has always viewed having a 'six pack' as a sign of physical beauty. But enough of the small little history lesson. You're here because you want abs or I assume you do. If not, you can learn something in regard to nutrition.

Now you might be thinking, "this guy may be like all the other guys that tell you how to get them. He may even be a fat guy". Well you have a point but it's wrong. Having been involved in different sports and martial arts the last 8 years of my life have helped. Being an athlete therefore has its advantages. Not only am I healthy but I get abs as a bonus from the hard work I put in. I don't do it to get women or for any other reason. Besides, I'm not great with women anyway.

So through my years of training, I have tried and tested methods which involve training and diet. Genetics does play an important part in it. I'm genetically predisposed to being skinny (an ectomorph is the correct term). Now don't just think "oh well I won't be able to get abs since I don't have the genetics". Some have it easier than others. What you have to do is work HARDER and put more effort not only into your training but into what you eat.

Treating Your Body

When explaining this point to individuals such as yourselves, I use an example. Think of your body as a car. More specifically, an unleaded car. You go to the petrol station as you're low on fuel. You put in diesel instead. You start to drive and the car is not performing properly. Soon, the engine blows and your car needs to be repaired. Can you see where I am getting at? If you continously eat fast/restaurant food, you'll never get those abs. As a treat, once a week or a fortneight then sure but not 3/4 times a week. Not only that but you shouldn't also be eating any processed products. Your diet should be clean.

What Do You Mean By 'Clean' Diet?

Eat foods which are not processed than what is required. I love peanut butter. I can eat a jar of it. What I wouldn't eat is Sunpat p-butter. Why? It has a ton of added sugar. Avoid foods with processed sugars and avoid food with ton of salt. Salt is good for some body management functions but do not add more to your food. Only 6g a day. Studies have shown that people have 3 times this amount in a day and not a week. However, back to the peanut butter. I purchase natural p-butter with no added sugar. Yea, it's tiny bit more expensive but worth it. Or just buy a pack of almonds and eat a small amount. Not the whole pack.

So you should essentially be eating foods that are more natural. Eat more foods that come from the earth like wholemeal breads, oatmeal, fruits, nuts for good polysaturated fats (as well as boost testosterone). Many believe that by not consuming fat will help them lose weight. WRONG! Eating good fats will benefit you in ways you cannot imagine. The body requires fat for hormone regulation. How can the body become a fat burning machine if you don't consume fat?

Dairy is also good for abs such as cottage cheese or other soft cheeses as it contains casein protein that slowly digests in the body. A 2004 study at the University of Tennessee found that dieters who consumed 1,200 to 1,300 mg of calcium from dairy, lost more weight than dieters eating less calcium. Plus, they lost more weight in the trunk region, which is where fat accumulation is most dangerous. Aside from helping with weight loss, dairy builds muscles and bones and fights against osteoporosis and high blood pressure.

I always make sure that I get my dose of vegtables during the course of my day. Green vegetables provide nutrients and antioxidants, plus they are low in calories and filling. Spinach is good because it's loaded with vitamins A and C and has folate, which protects against heart disease, stroke and colon cancer. Broccoli is also good as it is high in fiber, calcium and vitamin C. Berries such as strawberries, blueberries and raspberries are other antioxidants loaded with fiber.

Eggs are a big thing in my diet. Not only are they a cheap source of protein, but it is the most easily absorbable protein for the body. I usually eat about 8 eggs post workout (1 whole and 7 whites) in a pitta bread.Eggs are more effective in building muscle than other forms of protein. Eggs also have vitamin B-12, which helps with fat breakdown

Ok. All this talk is about food but what about training? Abs are all about diet. If you want to put it into a certain percentage then I'd say 80% is diet whilst 20% is training. That means that you shouldn't do so many crunches. It's not about the qauntity but the quality of contracting the muscle fibres. Focus more on technique than rushing to do 200 sit ups in one go because chances are, you'll be wasting time and effort.

Any other tips?

Eat small meals every 2-3 hours in order to keep your metabolic rate high. The human body is an amazing machine. Fat storage is an emergency mechanism. It comes into affect when we are under extreme conditions such as times of famine or facing temperatures below freezing. If we continue to feed ourselves regularly, the body will recognise that we do not need to store any fat and there you have it.

I personally tend to eat my larger meals in the early hours of the day and then reduce the amount of carbs etc as I don't do much in the evening. I then either drink some milk or consume soft cheese before I head to sleep.

Getting enough sleep is not only crucial in terms of burning fat but also to allow the body to repair. It is only during this time that the body builds muscle. It is like your body is going through a rebooting process and running diagnostic tests to see if everything is in working order.

Drinking plenty of water will help flush out any toxins you have. It has also been mentioned that having regular intake of water boosts metabolic rate. You'll know your metabolism is on fire if you're goin to the toilet every hour or so. .

So what do you do for exercises?

.

In terms of exercises, I keep things simple. I do basic weighted crunches and focus on muscle contraction. I tend to do 4 sets of 30 reps. I also do the same then for knee raises on a roman chair, the plank, and flutter kicks. I only spend roughly 15-20 mins on abs max and work them at least 3 times a week after main workout since you are always using your core. Better to hit them whilst they are fatigued.

I do have more hints and tips so if you want to ask anything, please do so in the comments section below. I need to head out and buy some food. Hope this helped

The Law of Nature

"One is all, all is one"

Towards her old age, my mother gained a lot of weight. Being an advocate of healthy eating and living a healthy lifestyle, I tried to persuade her that she should watch what she ate. She was after all ill. She was diabetic and it was believed that she was suffering with gout. However, I later found out that the swelling she always ended up getting on her ankles was not from gout but was caused by her heart. It was not pumping enough oxygenated blood throughout her body. It was all linked as she had Pulmonary Fibrosis. He heart was working overtime. I had mentioned this in a post devoted to her.

She always ended up joking about death. When we talked about her weight, she would reply back with "at least the ants will be happy. They'll get food". I didn't really think about it in depth. Only until she passed away when I stood in front of her grave to bury her that I fully understood this so called natural law.

As humans, we are only a minute and insignificant part of an immense and flowing cosmos which itself is made up entirely of minute and insignificant parts. I will label these minute and insignificant parts as 'ones'. If you add all these ones, it will eventually become 'all'. Without all these ones, the all cannot exist. We are all destined to die. It's in the uncodified law of nature. If I were to pass away in this world, it would continue to move along as if nothing had happened because I am just a small part of it. Not even a fraction. What makes us who we are, the soul, the spiritual essence of a person vanishes. All that remains is the physical, the body. Water, Carbon, Ammonia, Lime, Phosphorous, Salt, Saltpeter, Sulfur, Magnesium, Fluorine, Iron, and Aluminum. The human body is only a combination of those simple elements as well as trace amounts of a few others.We’re destined to be decomposed by bacteria and become nutrients for plants. If you then follow the process further, those plants will nourish herbivores. The herbivores end up nourishing carnivores. Even though we lose awareness our lives, all of us will keep on moving through the system that nature has developed. This so called cycle of life.

No matter how much we try, we are unable to escape a fate that will undoubtedly come to all of us. Advances in science and technology can only help to a certain extent.

Ah London, Suited and Booted

When mum was around, I was still having trouble looking for work. A recent LPC (Legal Practice) graduate unable to find work at law firms either as a trainee lawyer or a paralegal.

I got so sick of not being able to find work that I decided to start up my own business. Something to cater a specific problem. I thought up of different ideas and placed them under a process of heavy scrutiny asking myself questions such as "Will this really work?" "Who will use it?" "Would I use this service?" and so forth. In the end, some of my ideas went out through the window but I found one idea which I believe would be good, for a first business venture anyway.

After everything I've been through within the last 2/3 months, I somehow arranged to meet up with a billionaire venture capitalist in London. For the sake of what could be the greater good, I shaved my beard, had a haircut, booked my ticket, put on my suit and headed for an early meeting with my potential investor. It was a weird for me to be putting on a Hugo Boss suit that had cost me around £500/600. Earlier in the week, I was literally a bum, sitting on a bench with nobody to talk to. No one would even talk to me. To go back into this life was a bit too uncomfortable. I must admit, I was nervous. This was it. One of those 'make it or break it' points in my life.

For those who know me, I'm a bit of a fitness fanatic. The plan was to make it into London and walk 2.2 miles to the meeting point. To my surprise, not many people do actually walk around London. The only ones that do are tourists. Everyone is busy. Time is money. Unfortunately as always, my plans never work out. I had to catch a taxi to get there since I lost my Oyster Card (transport card allowing me to use the London Underground and bus services). It had about £15 of credit on there. I arrived in time and headed into the building. Since I was early as I had 13 mins to spare, I ate my sandwich. Once done, I went in.

In the beginning, it went well. I felt at slight ease but then we got down to business. "So Shiraz, what's your idea?". As I told him, he asked me further questions. As the meeting went on, I could see where this was going. He told me that it wasn't for him as an investor. It was not going to generate a substantial amount of money within the first year of trading. He wanted something like £250,000. I knew myself that this idea would not generate that much but over time with a clever marketting strategy, it could be possible. He then emphasised on 'could'. I also justified my reasons with what I had uncovered via my market research. Despite that, he still believed it wouldn't generate much. It was just not for him. I thanked him for his time and to give me the opportunity to discuss my idea with him. He asked me about my background. I told him and he gave me his card so that I could contact him again in future.

I was extremely down at that point. Nothing is going the way I envisioned it with my mum. Why am I struggling so much in the last few years. I'm aware that there are those who are less fortunate than myself in poorer countires but is there a reason for this? Am I destined to struggle this way in life now or will something good happen to me. I'm a pessimist and my closest friends would agree on me with that and I've always had a negative mindset over a positive one. This was just due to my circumstances and how I grew up.

I walked from St Pancras Hotel, London to Oxford Street. The odds were extremely slim but I ended up bumping into a friend from Cardiff in London. She was walking down Oxford St with her mother. We talked for a bit and she forced me to select a few things from M&S (food outlet). I then headed down towards Hyde Park as I usually do when I'm in London now and from there walk down to Victoria Coach Station to head back to Cardiff. To be honest, I did not even want to come back. I was just that upset.

Whilst waiting for the coach, I started talking with a pretty girl whose name I later found out to be Kayleigh. She lived in London and worked for Christian Dior in Selfridges. She told me her story. Two years ago, she was struggling to meet ends. She worked for £60/70 a week and had to pay rent as well as buy food because her mother kicked her out at the age of 17. She worked in Debenhams, Swansea for some time. Somehow, she was selected with one other girl by Christian Dior to go to Paris for two weeks and be given specific training with all expenses paid. She was given intense training regarding the products Dior sells. She now trains women who work on the fragrance counters. She told me that she still isn't paid much but she is coping well. When I asked her about accomodation, Kayleigh informed me that she lived with 6 other girls and they all slept in one room of an apartment. She gave me tips on how to secure places and where is the best place to live from her experience. Now she lives with her boyfriend who is also an employee of Selfridges. She was a great person with a great attitude to meet and she told me that if I didn't get it, it was probably because it was not meant to be. I should take a more positive attitude and use this experience as a learning curb. I thought to myself, why couldn't I meet a girl who is supportive like you.

When we got to Cardiff, it was raining. So I walked her to Cardiff Central Station. I didn't even have a jacket and got completely soaked. We shook hands and she told me to pop into Selfridges any time. Despite it raining heavily that night, I was crying as I did not know what to do. I kept talking to myself saying "What am I going to do now mum. The one idea I thought I had that would make me some decent money turned out to be nothing in the eyes of the investor". I have no one to support me. No one to stop me from falling. Just when I try and pick myself up, I get thrown back onto the floor.

Being Homeless

In the last post, I had stated that I had an argument and wished not to return to my parents house but I did. I suppose some of you were wondering how and why I ended up homeless.

It was around 4am. I slept for a few hours in my mother's bed. I didn't move a thing. I wanted it to remain as it were before she had left. I opened her dressing cupboard and sniffed her clothes whilst crying. Later that day, my father was sorting out the funerary arangements. I just remained in her room, lying down on her bed. I didn't eat anything. I heard a lot of people downstairs. A number of my friends rang me to offer their condolences. I burst into tears with each phone call. I remember saying to each of them that my mother had

"...left me. She wasn't supposed to leave me".

I did not know a lot of these people who were downstairs. Some came up and were telling me to eat but when I'm extremely upset, I tend not to. Quite the opposite to my mother since she used to comfort eat. Some of these women also told me that I should see them as a motherly figure. I felt angered. No one can replace the position of your mother regardless of what they say. I thought to myself that do they think I'm stupid. I'm well aware of what they're trying to do. It was just to calm me down but in reality, no one will look after you. I'd be on my own from now on.

I feel that I'm too young to have lost my mother. But looking at the world as it is, some lose their mothers at an early age. Some have never felt a mother's love. Some are fortunate to have their mothers live till they are mid-point in their lives or even older. I felt robbed that she was taken away from me and I still do. Why is it that all the good people tend to die sooner and unexpected and that those who have committed heinous crimes get to live to a ripe old age. It's just not fair. Life is just not fair.

My father wanted her funerary services to run at a mosque in Canton. It is a place I personally vowed never to go again in my lifetime. When I was very young, I was bullied there quite often and not many of the kids from the Asian community would talk to me. Why? Because at that age, I was meeting and making friends with kids who had a different religious/cultural background. I became isolated from the Pakistani community. That was my reason why I did not want my mother's funeral to take place there. We were both alienated pretty much. When I told my father that, he informed me that there was no room for negotiations. He stated that mosque is where "our people go. We have to have it done there". I wanted no arguments and for the sake of the bigger picture and what was more important, I accepted.

Her funeral took place two days after her death on the 1st of May which was a Tuesday. I still was not eating properly but I got dressed and took with me an English version of the Quran. I had learnt it in Arabic years ago but it seems that I've forgotten to read in it and therefore my mother wanted me to understand the religion she was so passionate about. Some friends of mine even travelled from London  just to attend her funeral despite it being exam period at universities across the country.

It was raining heavily that day. After prayers, we headed to the graveyard. I sat in the hearse with my hand on my mother's coffin. I was told by a person not to cry and that I had to be brave. For some reason, I managed not to cry throughout the whole process. When we arrived at the graveyard, the sun had come out and you could see the blue sky. I looked in the dug out grave that her coffin was going to be placed in. I realised that we are not immortal and that death will come to all of us. In Islam, there is an arabic saying but here is the english translation. It is 'From Him we come, and to Him we all return.'

Reality hit me hard at that point. We lowered the coffin into the grave. I was told that I had to go in and sort something out as no one else was able to. I felt at peace being in that rectangular hole with her coffin there. I was then told to get out but I would have just been happy if they had burried me alive with her. At least I'd be with her. Once I came out, I had to be the one who would have to start shoveling earth over her coffin. From that, I recieved a cut and it has turned into a scar. A scar that I now look at and brings back unpleasant memories of her burial.

I thought it was strange that I did not cry or I was not upset at that point. I remained like that for a few days and thought whether it was closure. I was wrong. My father sat down on a chair which had my Beats by Dre headphones placed upon. They were already damaged but it turned out that he had damaged the good side. I lost control. I told him he would have to compensate and at first he stated no but then agreed. I started to get worse and worse till I told him that he needed '...to get out of my sight before I do something'. He left along with two other people who were there. There was also a child present. I left the house soon after and went for a walk. By the time I returned, I had calmed down and was willing to appologise. It was midnight and there was no sight of him so I decided to get some rest. As I started to go to sleep, I heard a loud knock on the door. I came downstairs and found out that it was none other than the police. Two police women. I told them upfront about everything and even my past dealings with them. I'm very honest. Perhaps too honest for my own good. They told me that I had to leave the house. I replied "I have no where else to go. Who do you think will accomodate me at 1am in the morning?". Due to my earlier loss of temper, I had hit some things off the kitchen table but nothing was damaged. I had already cleaned up the mess. It turned out that the police wanted to arrest me for criminal damage. That would be fine although there was no damage in the first place so I doubt they had any evidence to back their case for that allegation.

I packed my bag. All I had it in was a box of cereal and a cereal bowl. They then allowed me to stay for the night but would come back the next morning to escort me out of the house. After everything, I realised something which came to quite a shock to me. 25 years of living and all I had were two bags of clothes. That's all I had to show for my life up till the present day. As I left the house, police officers were sitting in the car with the window down. I looked at them and couldn't help but say

"You're a bunch of f*****g c***s. All of you."

I walked off and headed towards Swansea where some of my friends were still studying  at university. I stayed there for a day or two and then headed back to Cardiff to stay with another friend. I found myself hopping from one person's house to another, not knowing until rather late whether I had a place to sleep or not. I would always make some food and pack up enough just in case I wasn't able to prepare food anywhere else. Despite things looking bad, I enjoyed the sense of freedom and being away from that house. Afterall, I no longer have a house. A few months prior to all this, I went and stayed with a friend of mine who was squatting in London, near Oval. I had a blast. I thought it may be ok to head back there but that was not possible at the time. After stuggling for some time, I came back to the house I did not really want to be in. My father wanted me back and at first I was reluctant. We both have different ideologies/philosophies on how one should live. Again, that did not last and I ended up nearly hurting someone. It was again 1am and I decided myself that I should not remain there. I needed a fresh start. I took a gamble and headed for my friend's dad's house in Riverside. He took me in and then I was allowed to stay at my friend's mum's house to which I am very grateful. That is where I am now.

It's strange how I once walked around the city centre of Cardiff in Hugo Boss suits. Some women would look and smile at me. Now the position is rather different. Now people tend to avoid you. I bumped into another friend who is studying law and when I called out his name, he couldn't recognise me. He told me that he would have walked straight past. I guess it must be the beard and the state of my unwashed clothes. I found myself walking around a lot since all this has happened. I usually did walk a lot when my mother was alive but perhaps adding 5 miles more adding it upto 20 miles daily. I would be sitting on a bench in city centre even if it started to rain. To be honest, I did not hardly realise that it was raining. I was so deep in thought. I sat by a pub called O' Neals the other day. It was raining. I saw a disabled young asian boy walk past. There were two guys who had come out to smoke. I was observing them. They started to make fun of the young boy as he walked past tauting him with

"You'll get there. Don't worry"

They were laughing. I looked at the boy and even though he did not look back, he looked at me and smiled. He was extrmely brave to take that. So I sat there and I thought to myself which one should I punch first. I'm not big headed and usually, I dislike fighting as I just want some peace but I would have given those two a good beating. Then I thought to myself that would it be worth it. Would beating them make them realise that what they had done was cruel. I had already been having run-ins with the police now for the past month as it's clear that I'm unable to cope with my mother's passing. I saw a police women then walk past and I called her over. Despite knowing law, I asked her what should I do. I told her that those two men were mocking a disabled person and that I feel they should be punished so would she do anything if I beat them to a pulp. She answered saying that karma will do its thing and they'll suffer. So I left it at that.

I've seen quite a few homeless people. It's gotten to the point that they are starting to acknowledge me. I walked into an arcade and saw two of them. One sat on the floor and the other standing by a bin. The one by the bin looked around to see if anyone else was looking. He saw me but to see if anyone else was watching him. He put his hand in and took out a Mcdonalds drink that hadn't been finished. He then proceeded to walk off drinking it. We have to do what we can in order to survive. At least for me, I've been fortunate in some ways that I've been able to afford some food such as a tin of tuna and some bread. I've been unemployed for quite some time now. Even after applying for jobs that are in other sectors and not just limiting myself to the legal sector as a lawyer or paralegal, I am struggling.

To me, money means nothing. It's a shame that we need it to survive but people are willing to do all sorts of acts just in order to get by. Some people rob and kill for a few pounds/dollars worth of items. I learned a long time ago that money does not bring you happiness. No amount of money I have now can bring my mother back, even if I were to have billions. What one needs are good friends and someone who truly cares for you and loves you. As I sit there on benches and see couples smiling and laughing whilst holding hands, my heart aches. I've always been a loner. I spend a lot of my time by myself doing what I wanted to do. When I was younger, I used to love making money and seeing my bank balance grow. Now I couldn't care whether I had £2 in the bank or £200,000. As long as I'm happy that's what matters but as things stand, that's not likely to happen any time soon.

My Mother

It has been one month, two weeks, and six days since my mother passed away. She died on the 29th April at 11:20am in the University Hospital of Wales, Cardiff (Heath hospital). Still grieving from her death, I feel I should write about her to let others know what a amazing, kind woman she was and how she went from independent new-age thinker to dominated housewife.

She was born on the 10th October, 1942 in Amritsar, India  (historically known as Rāmdāspur). The city famously known to have the Golden Temple (also known as Harmandir Sahib), a holy site to those who follow Skikhism. At the time, it was part of British India which had begun circa 17th Century from activities led by and expansion of the East India Trading Company. From what I've read, the Company's shares were owned by wealthy merchants. The Government had no ownership until legislation was passed and the areas that the Company ruled was held on trust to the British Crown. India's citizens followed a number of religions such as Islam, Sikhism, Christianity, Hinduism and had a diverse population.

Her family were Kakazai. A tribe that orginally came from the Laghman Province of Afghanistan. Thinking back, I remember when a Sikh friend of mine used to call me 'Afghan' in high school despite telling him that I wasn't. I found it strange when I eventually found out that some of my ancestors do actually originate from there. The tribe invaded parts of South Asia and as with all conquests, settled at various spots.

In 1946, the Labour government at the time decided to end its control of India. World War II had depleted a lot of resources and as a result, Britain was exhausted. It was therefore unrealistic to maintain control of a relentless India as its people were striving for independence. There were many political parties at the time like the Muslim League led by Mohammed Ali Jinnah who attempted to form a Hindu-Muslim alliance. However, this failed some years prior to 1946. A two-nation theory became a popular idea amongst the Indian muslims by Mohammed Iqbal in the 1930s. The idea somewhat remained despite Jinnah becoming leader of the All India Muslim League again in the 1940s. It therefore meant that Muslims will have their own land and vice versa for Hindus.

As Britain prepared to relinquish control of India and partition it, violence amongst the population increased, fueled by religious differences. My mother was four years old at the time. I remember her telling me stories of how they owned a very nice property and were failry well off. She had a two sisters. Tension between the political factions grew as time came closer to independence as mentioned above. Since my mother's family were muslim, they were told they would have to relocate along with  hundreds of other families. During this process, my mother told me that her that one of her sisters had died. Many people, young and old, were unable to survive the relocation process due to starvation and illness as well as fighting. It has been reported that there was much bloodshed due to the violence and that somewhat 250,000 - 500,000 died.

On thr 14th of August 1947, the dominion of Pakistan was formed. My mother's parents settled in the northern suburb called Shahdara Bagh. She took me once back in 2000 as her father was unwell. We stayed there for three months. The area is poverty stricken with an open sewage system in place. Being born in the UK and brought up here, I did not like what I saw. It was a huge jump for me. At times, when the temperature was above 40 degrees celsius, the electricity would go out for hours. To provide you with a visual description, it has a resemblance to the Brazilian favelas. Most of the residents there belong to the same Kakazai tribe so I can see why they decided to settle down.

In regard to academia, she was bright and a hard worker. She told me how she used to compete with her friends to see who would get the highest score. She;d also regularly tuition local kids in the area. I've always known her to be good at mathematics and later went to the University of the Punjab, situated in Lahore. Mum obtained a degree in History. I personally loved History at high school and still do to this day. This love led me to enrol on a degree course to study Ancient History and Egyptology. I was happy that my mum and I were so alike. Throughout her education, she also learned to speak Farsi or Persian as well as having learnt English and able to speak Hindi, Urdu, and Punjabi.

Her parents did not have a son which made a big impact cultrually/socially. If you did not have a son, then life would be a lot more difficult. When I asked her at a young age, why didn't she get married in her 20s, she told me that she had decided to look after her parents/sister and adopt the role of a son. In those days, having a woman in the office was a rare sight. She was perhaps one of the earliest examples of the 'modern woman' you see today worldwide. She earned money, helped her family and enjoyed herself. Life was good for her. Although it wouldn't remain like that. During these times, if a woman was not married past a certain age, no one was going to marry her which is something that still remains within the Asian culture/community. It was also the time when looking for a husband/wife was done via arranged marriage. An offer had come from my dads family who lived quite a distance away. My Dad at the time being 50 and she was in her early 40s. They wed but I don't know when. My mum clearly knew. He was uneducated and she was the opposite. My dad had been in the UK since he was 18 so they arrived here in the early 80s.

She described times as tough. My dad in all fairness is not a good man. He may think he is but there is always an alterior motive to what he does. He loved to drink which is forbidden in the religion of Islam. She told me that it was the first time she'd ever seen a drunk person and was so scared, she locked the bedroom door and would not come out. He'd be shouting his head off saying  "I'm going to die this way". As she had been independent for most of her life, she wanted to earn some money since my father did not really work due to back problems. He stopped her. He would not let her as to him, it would make it seem like he was unable to look after her. Basically, he'd be ashamed that she would become the main earner. He beat her and tried his best to 'domesticate' her but she would never give up. On the 26th November 1986, I was born. She always wanted a son. Her mother died a year before and mum was upset that she could not see me but nonetheless, I guess I was her pride and joy.

A bond that can never be broken.

I remember when I was roughly 4/5, sitting on the sofa watching TV. I heard a scream and looked to my left. There I saw my father beating her. Blood running down her face. She said "Shiraz! Call the police!" but my father said "Just watch the TV!". I ended up turning my head and watched cartoons. If I could go back in time and change events, I would call the police. Again, one of the regrets I have in my life. She tried so hard to make things easier for me. We lived at first in a flat in Pentwyn. I can't remember where my mum and dad stayed before I was born. We then moved into Canton at 4 South Morgan Place which again was another one bedroom flat. All my childhood memories are there, good and bad. She used to dress me in really nice clothes even though we didn't have much money. What annoyed me and I did tell her that she should treat herself and buy herself some nice pair of shoes or clothes but she always put me before herself. That was the kind of mother she was.

Causing trouble for my mum as always

It was difficult for her to see me not have a good childhood. I guess it'd be like that for any mother. Walking to places such a theme parks was impossible so she decided to do some creche work and gained the necessary qualifications. She worked for Barnardos, Riverside Warehouse and Riverside Community Centre until she saved enough money to buy a car and driving lessons for it. I remember her leaving me once in the flat. I was so upset that I didn't want her to go but she said she'd be back in an hour. I looked out the window as she drove off. She must have had a few lessons. But unfortunately she was not able to get a driving licence. My father took the car without her permission and gave it in part-exchange. That is the type of man he is. I also remember my mum telling me that her jewelry was gone. Long after, I was helping my mum clean my father's room. I noticed something hidden underneath the carpets and told my mum. It was her jewelry. I have my reasons as to why I don't get along with him to which I'll leave for another time but he did everything in his power to stop her from being independent. He also forced her to give up the life insurance policy and stated that if she didn't, he'd give her a divorce. On that note, I must have been 7ish and walking down Cowbridge Road, Canton with my mum going to school. I distinctly remember asking her why didn't she get a divorce. If she did, she'd be happy and we could be happy together. But her reply was that she wanted me to grow up in a household with both parents present. She said that it wasn't nice to have seperated parents and sometimes children are often affected by it. Mum didn't always want to live in a flat. She wanted a nice home. My parents sold the flat and we lived in Riverside for a few months. It was there where I began to play in the streets. I'd never done so before. It was fun. It was also there were I met some good childhood friends that I still see today. After sturggling, we moved into a newly built property but the area at first seemed nice but turned out to be terrible. There were either pensioners/old retired folk or those on benefits and pretty much 'scum of society'.

When the time came to go into high school, my mum sent me to some private schools. I had to do some tests and depending on the results, I'd get in or not. She was happy that I had recieved offers. I'd been to a number of private schools. All the kids wore blazers and were mainly from upper class families. I felt odd there. I told her I didn't want to go there and I wanted to go where my friends were. She still enrolled to to a Catholic school despite us being Muslim but again, I did not fit in. I look back now and wish that I'd accepted those offers made from private schools. Had I done so, life may have been different.

She never caused trouble for anyone. She wasn't the type of person to do that. All my friends who visited the house found her warm and kind. She loved celebrating my birthdays. It was a really big day for her. But growing up, on big days such as that, there would always be a big argument. At 13 years of age, I decided to stop celebrating my birthday. I decided in fact to not celebrate anything. The environment I grew up in was very tense. Even when I turned 18, she wanted to hire out a venue and call people from all over to celebrate but I said no. The same for when I turned 21. But last year I turned 25. It was just the both of us as my father was in Pakistan. So I asked her,

"Mum, what do you want to do on my birthday? Shall I get cake?"

She looked at me, smiled and replied

"Ok. Let's eat cake"

I walked down to ASDA and bought a small chocolate cake. We sat down, spent some quality time together and ate it. We always said that we'd be together and fight whatever comes our way. Just the two of us and no one else, supporting each other. Before that, it was her birthday. She always used to come up to me and say

"Do you know what day today is?"

 And I always answered back saying

"No. Not really?"

But I knew. My gym membership at the athletic stadium was 10 10 82 so how could I forget. I'd always pop out then and buy her a card and some chocolates. Then she used to get annoyed with me as I always teased her for being fat and saying she should live a healthier lifestyle yet I bought her chocolates. Last year however, it was a friend's wedding. I walked past the gudwara in Riverside and saw another friend. They asked me to come but I informed them that I'd rather spend the day with my mum. In her card, I put £10. When I handed it to her, she smiled and hugged me. I didn't have much money so it was all I could do but she was happy and I would do anything to see her smile again.

Even though we had a strong bond, I was not the best son. I had and still have my own problems fighting with depression. As a child, it was apparent that I required some sort of anger management as I was getting out of hand but my mother didn't want me to have a 'record'. I have made huge mistakes in the past. Terrible ones. I have done things that not many people would imagine doing. Being involved in gangs and associating myself with other troubled youths is what happened in my later years of high school despite being in the top classes of the year throughout most of it. Even if it were raining heavily, we would be out doing all sorts of things. It got to a stage where in the end, I decided I could not see a future for myself if I carried on this way. It changed when one of the youths I was with smashed a car window to steal something. Police were informed and everybody ran. We hid in someones garden and at that point it hit me. I left, went home, told my mother and father what had happened and vowed I wouldn't hang with crowds like that again. I spent the next few years in solitude. No one had heard from me, and I did not socialise with any other groups. It was a bit extreme. On top of that, I had depression. All I did was play video games.That worried her a little. Taking this measure of solitude still affects me to this very day. I'm not socialble. I don't go out and do things which others of my age enjoy. To put it in another way, I don't have a 'normal' life. I've never been in a relationship and I often find it tiring when I'm with a large crowd of people. I do not drink or smoke which is something my mother was always pleased with. She'd used to say

"Apart from your temper, you're as good as gold"

I spent most of my university days either at uni or working. I chose to commute as the institution I was enrolled at was 40 miles away. The decision was based on the fact that I did not want to get into any debt. It was a wise move. I used to get up at 6am, get ready and catch the bus at 7:35am, stay there till lectures finished at 5pm somedays and then head to work as soon as I got home for a quick snack till 3am the next morning; I knew early on the life was not easy but at least I was not a burden on anyone as I was able to buy things I wanted. My regret from this is that I never really bought her anything. She did so much for me yet I became a bit too selfish.

On 10th June 2010, I suffered a horrific knee injury. One that left me severely disabled. I tore my ACL, MCL, PCL, Medial Meniscus and cartilage of my right knee whilst playing football near my university at the time. I was unable to walk. My mother stood by me the whole time. At one stage, I started to suffer horrific pains. It was pain that I can't quite describe. I was screaming every minute for a period of three days. She asked me that we should go to the hospital but I stated that it must be part of the injury and we should wait. I was so bad during the whole time that I was unable to even get out of bed and go to the toilet to urinate. I'd have to pee in a empty milk bottle. Since I already had depression, I got even worse. I wanted to kill myself. From being super fit and healthy with 12.5 stone of lean muscle to being bed ridden was a traumatic experience for me. She helped me pull through. I was so down that I was unsure of whether I wanted to enrol on a postgraduate course that we discussed about. But in the end, after two operations and a lot of frustration, I learned to walk again with encouragement from my mum. It turned out that the pain I was sufferering in those three days was scepticemia and I was close to death since it started to spread through my whole body. Only one friend of mine saw me in that state and was in the hospital with me. He came down from London for the weekend to hang out but I guess we didn't plan to be in the hospital on a saturday night. There were another two who saw me bed-ridden as well. I also remember asking the doctor about my leg before the operation. I asked him whether will it'll be ok and that what will happen to my leg. He told me that there was a chance they'd have to amputate it. I was shocked. I looked at my mum and cried. She told me not to worry but I knew she was just as upset as I was. She worried about me too much. I slept over a friends house once when I was 13 and she rang after I'd been out of the house for two hours asking if I was ok and that was I missing her.

What has been eating away my heart most of all is the sunday prior to her passing. I was at home, teasing her as I did. Seeing her unwell sometimes made me frustrated. I didn't like seeing her cough all the time. So then I got a big angry. I had arranged to play football with some friends and rang my father to come home as I didn't want to leave her on her own. I had no idea that whilst I was at the park, she had a panic attack and was rushed to hospital immedietely. I came home and no one was around. When my father arived, he started crying. I knew something was wrong and I rushed down to the hospital straight away. I saw her and I told her how sorry I was. She forgave me like always. I spent some time with her and I did not want to leave but she told me I should go home and come back the next morning. That night, I was unable to sleep. At around 2:30-3am, I had bad chest pains. It was as if something was pulling my heart from my body. When I arrived at the hospital the next morning, she was in critical care. The nurses told me that at around 2:30-3am, her condition had worsened. I spent most of the day with her and holding her hand. She was on a breathing machine but able to communicate by writing on a pad. Once they took the mask off, she was coughing. It meant that she was unable to eat or drink water. I went in again on tuesday but by wednesday, I was so run down that I was ill. I'd caught a cold and I could not visit her as I'd jepardise everyone else's health in the unit. I went back on thursday and saw her asleep. I thought to myself that I'm glad she's getting some rest. Although, that was not the case. As she was unable to get enough oxygen into her system, her heart was pumping twice as fast. If the heart is unable to pump oxygenated blood throughout the body then the other organs will be affected such as the kidneys.

I asked an old classmate of mine who is now a doctor to check up on her. At one point we were caught looking at her papers but I informed the nurse that I had put him upto it and not to give him a disiplinary. I'd bought her a card and wrote this message inside hoping that she'd be able to read it. I wrote

"Mum, I need you to be strong. You can beat this. I know you can. I love you. I always have and I always will. You are all that is good in my life. My raison d'etre is so that I can fulfil your dreams whilst you're alive. I know I've made mistake. I know I;ve disapointed you at times. I know I never fulfiled my true potential but you were always there for me. Please get better so that you can come home. Who am I going to play, annoy for fun and joke around with. That's why I need you. I still need you right now. There are so many people who want you to get better. I told you so many times not to do things which you were incapable of doing but you still did them. I won't be able to live if you're gone. You have to remember OUR PROMISE. You can't break it. You've been getting better slowly so you need to fight this. Hopefully everything will be fine inshallah. I've promised you that I will become the son and man you wanted me to become. That I will be successful, get married and have kids. You need to be around so that you can see your grandkids and spoil them. So stay with me ok, I'm not ready for you to go."

 But she was so doped up that she didn't know what was happening around her. We spoke to the doctor after he called for us and he said that she has no chance of getting through this. My heart sank. I couldn't quite process it. I wasn't a praying man but I started praying from that day hoping that a miracle would happen. It did not. On the 29th April, a sunday, I was looking through all my baby albums and childhood photos. At one point, my heart sank again. I felt my chest being extremely heavy. My mobile started ringing and I answered. It was the nurse looking after her that day. Her name was Nicci. She told me I had to come down straight away. I put on my clothes and rushed to the hospital as quickly as I could. Looking at the monitor, her stats were dropping. Blood pressure kept falling. Once it got past 50, her hands were cold. I was crying but I kept talking to her till there were no signals being recieved. It was 11:20. Since then, I've been lost. My mother was the one who would always point me in the right direction. No one will now care if I've eaten. No one will now be worried about me as she was. No one can replace her.

On sunday evening/early hours of monday morning, I got into an argument with my father. He wanted to smoke in the house. I've always been against smoking. We've had many arguments regarding this. He'd always say "I don't give two fucks" when I'd tell him that there were other people living in the house and that he should take our views and health into consideration, especially since my mother had lung disease. When I'd left for Stockholm, my mother told me that he was smoking in the house. I was very annoyed and angered but said nothing. All of his friends were telling me that it's his house and he can do whatever he wants but I had my counter-arguments. It's what I've been trained to do as a lawyer. I told them that have they ever seen someone gasping for air like how my mother was gasping to survive during her final days. They remained quiet. I then told them that you may think it's fine now but when the time comes and you have been diagnosed with lung cancer or something which is caused by smoking, you will be regretting it. I left the house at 1am on that monday. It was pouring with rain. I walked the streets and got soaked. I did not want to go back to that house so I sat down in Cardiff Bay and wished my mother was still around and that my father should have been the one to have died. I would have preferred it that way. Even though I say/write that, my mum would say that the man is still my father but to me, my father and mother died that day.