If You Goin Coupe, I'm Goin 4-Door

Today's a great day for hip hop fans. More specifically if you're a fan of either J.Cole, Kanye West, or Mac Miller (or Lil B, I guess). Most sites and blogs will try to be as unbiased as possible and give you separate reviews for each of these projects, but I decided to do something a little different.

No hate to those sites by the way, there are some great reviews out there. Check your local Twitter timeline.

Now, this little post is gonna be more of my personal opinions about these albums since you know, harping about your opinions is the cool thing to do. A few precursors before I get into it: (1) I had extremely high hopes for Yeezus although as more and more information about it was being released, I became more and more apprehensive, (2) Outside of a couple Mac Miller songs, I never really rocked with the dude. Not because he was wack, I just was sleepin', (3) I've been waiting for this J.Cole release for what seems like the longest time.

As soon as J.Cole's Born Sinner was being passed around like a blunt a week or so ago, I had to take a puff. Right off the bat, I could tell Cole had a lot more creative control on this than he did on his debut album Cole World: The Sideline Story. The beats were less pop-influenced (once again, 99% produced by Jermaine himself) and a lot darker than his freshman effort was. J.Cole has the constant criticism of being boring - being the guy that always talks about the same things every song. I have to agree with this but you can't knock a guy for speaking on what he knows and has experienced, right? Maybe that's why his freestyles and features seem to go so much harder than his own songs (see: "Looking For Trouble"). Look at my iTunes and you'll see that a lot of the not-so-mainstream artists I listen to are kinda like Cole. They rap about no more than a few topics and eventually have that song or two that can either be a radio hit or just a fun song.

Lyrically, this'll be the best album you'll hear today. Cole is a nice balance between underground / highly intellectual rap and mainstream rap. I've said this from the day I first listened to his work. This shows in Born Sinner as you see he's nice with the words. Nowhere near Lupe or Nas, but dude is still nice. Pair that with a couple aesthetically bangin' joints he has on there ("Crooked Smile," "She Knows"), and this is a solid sophomore project. And hey, no worries if you hate on the subject matter. He speaks about topics a typical dude can relate to and that speaks for itself.

Mac Miller has been a name I've heard plenty of the last couple years or so. I never really had an opinion on the guy's music because outside of one song ("Donald Trump"), I never really listened to his music. So naturally, when I heard his album Watching Movies With The Sound Off was droppin' the same day as Cole and Ye, I brushed it off. Didn't really concern me and I didn't think it would make much of an impact in terms of sales. And then...I started hearing the rumbles. Twitter started whispering about this dude Mac Miller who had a dope album. Like most popular topics on Twitter, I started off ignoring it. People rock with different things and I wasn't about to jump in on the bandwagon. But then it got even worse: people whose musical opinions I respected and trusted started talking about him, too. And after finally giving it a listen, I saw why.

Aesthetically (aka: sound-wise), this'll be the best album you'll hear today. Lyrically, nothing better than a typical mainstream artist. Homie flows nice and his hooks grab a listener. In fact, out of the three albums you'll listen to today, this one will definitely be the one you hit repeat on the most. It's just one of those albums that you can drive around the city and bang to in the whip. It just sounds good. In fact, I'm listening to the album (again) while typing this up. Don't get me wrong, there are some whack joints on here but overall, it's something I like playing on big speakers. Shouts to Mac for droppin' a great project under the pressure of having the same release date as J.Cole and one of the most controversial people in alllllllllllll of entertainment: Kanye West.

Oh, Kanye. Kanye, Kanye, Kanye. Ye. Yeezy. Mr. West. And then...Yeezus? Right off the bat, I don't like the connection between him and religion (dude has a song titled "I Am A God" -______- ). But rappers seem to do it a lot these days, no one more than Kanye. Not that I condone it or anything. Kanye has been getting mixed reactions for a long time now. In fact, his whole career he's been getting criticism for being different. He was the college kid turned producer turned rapper. Since when did college kids get into hip hop? Since when did producers get into rapping? Kanye paved the way for a lotta new cats to get into the game, including college graduate J.Cole. He has always been at the forefront of new sounds in music and possess amazing production skills. His rapping prowess is undeniable as well. The College Dropout, Late Registration, and Graduation are some of my most favorite albums of all time. Then came personal problems in his life including his mother's death. For those that criticize his life, imagine going through this. Hardest thing a person can go through. That bought him an excuse when 808's dropped and got mixed reviews. Then came My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy. Both these albums took a while to grow on me. I hated them at first. I'm a classic guy, I like the old school stuff that hip hop was based off of. But Kanye somehow made these sounds work. Then came a couple collaboration albums in Watch The Throne and Cruel Summer. These also got mixed reviews but for me, I liked them. They were more classic hip hop than experimental and original Kanye. And they absolutely BANGED on the speakers. Now there's...Yeezus.

Honestly, this'll be the worst album you'll hear today. Straight up, I just don't like the album. Yet I still have an ounce of hope for it. I keep saying it'll grow on me. I've listened to it 3 or 4 times through now and still...nothing. Lyrically, it's terrible. I think most of the hip hop community will agree when I say this is Kanye's worst performance lyrically. Production wise? I just don't know. I don't know these sounds that I'm hearing. People say it's original. People say stop hating on different. And that seems to be the general consensus about everything and every topic nowadays. Just close your eyes and accept. I say nah. I still have my morals and my values and my opinions that extend beyond just music. I don't like this album. I won't say it's terrible or it sucks, but I just don't like it. There are a few joints I could see myself playing on their own some time in the future but overall, just no. It just sounds weird and doesn't work for me. The craziest thing is that you almost know Kanye will have the highest number of sales this week. No one man should have all that power.

Speaking of originality and creativity, I'm sick of people raggin' on artists for having a "novelty" song or just a goofy song (see: "Thrift Shop"). Now I'm not defending Macklemore here, but what's wrong with someone having fun on a song like this? I first heard of this dude Macklemore nearly four years ago as a freshman in college. During this period, I was infatuated with the Seattle hip hop music scene. They were just so damn dope. Macklemore was no different. Look past "Thrift Shop" and look at some of his work before you criticize. He has some powerful songs and goes beyond just a novelty rapper. This short lesson should be applied to all artists. Some people seem to forget that most of these rappers got into the game because it's something they love doing. It doesn't always start off just because they need to pay bills. There's a love with the music that these artists have. So next time your favorite rapper makes a song that's not lyrically mind-blowing or doesn't seem to fit in with his typical work, don't tear him to pieces. People are so quick to criticize, but don't take time to appreciate or understand. Damn.

But still, Kanye....I don't even know...

For those of you still reading this, let's take some time to appreciate all the music that's been coming out! After having sporadic releases of good music the last year or two, we're getting bombarded from all angles with some excellent projects. Kendrick Lamar's last album is still getting heavy rotation and we haven't even mentioned what's to come. Jay-Z nearly destroyed the internet by revealing his newest album dropping July 4th on national television. Who does that? No one man should THAT much power. Yeezus!

Jay-Z. Wale. Eminem. All albums soon to come. Hopefully this year when speaking of Em.

And how can we forget Lupe, Jay Electronica, and Dr. Dre! Good music all around!

Now time for me to go out and buy Born Sinner. Still wish the deluxe edition had the standard edition's cover. The black and gold looks more raw to me.

Anyway, as they say on Twitter: "At the end of the day, your opinion doesn't matter at all. No one's does." Well...except maybe Kanye's...

Shouts to Z and Dino.

I'm outty.
ChiTownGuevara

Open Mic

I know it's been a while since I've posted anything on here, so I decided to give you guys something different this time around. No extensive explanation needed on this, just a few words I put together mixed with my novice video production skills. Check it out and send your thoughts, comments, criticisms here or on Twitter as usual!

Peace & love,
CTG

The City Of Ghosts

Before I get into this, I'd like y'all to take a look at this video (<-- click the link). It's a little long, but I highly recommend you watch it to get a little background on what I wanna talk about in this post.

Murder Capital

It's been a while since I've been back in the Chi since starting school back in August. Schoolwork, not being able to match schedules, my parents travelling, and simply bad timing hasn't allowed me to come back home. Luckily, Eid has presented the perfect opportunity to make my return to Chi-Town this weekend. And as I've mentioned to a few of my friends, whenever I come home, I seem to spend more time outside than I actually do at home. There's a simple explanation for this: I make a ton of plans for things I wanna do when I come home while I'm in Champaign and I try to run through em all whenever I'm here. This weekend especially allowed me to touch on nearly all aspects of my life...by which I mean I was able to see family, family friends, friends from high school, friends from college, and simply friends that I've had for a really long time. And it was this last group of friends that ever so strongly reminded me of the reality shown in the video I linked above.

That last group of friends consisted of a tightly knit crew from way back in the day. In all honesty, I cannot for the life of me remember how we all met or got together. But we were the crew that had each other's backs on everything. We weren't the ones that knew every detail of each other's lives, but we respected where each of us came from. The original crew was formed nearly eight years ago when I was a freshman in high school. It consisted of eight guys, including myself. We had all different types of personalities. There was the funny one, the genius, the stupid one, the fat one, the stud, the dumb jokes one, the little brother, and the white guy. When we met earlier today, only five of us showed up. And it wasn't because the other three were too busy or anything like that. They were resting. Six feet below.

The reason the fact that we lost three guys hadn't impacted me before this is because we hadn't all met up in a long time. We went from baggy clothed, baby-faced, raggedy whip pushin' teenagers to fly(er), up-and-coming, still strugglin' young men. But again, there was a gaping hole. The three missing had all been taken by the streets. For no. Damn. Reason. No, they weren't in a gang. No, they didn't act "super ghetto." No, they didn't have any beef with anybody. They were innocent lives taken in the name of utter nonsense, ignorance, and stupidity.

One thing I've always hated were gangs. I have never understood the purpose of gangs and I never agreed with them. I've been enlightened over the years as to how people are grown into gangs but that doesn't make me like the concept of gangs any more. I'd be lying if I told you I knew how gangs work or that I know all the inner workings of one. However, I do acknowledge why some kids do it. They don't feel the love or acceptance at home so they search for it elsewhere. They don't have a father figure to guide them through the walks of life. While I do acknowledge this, I feel there is a dichotomy within gangs themselves. There are those types of gang members that I just mentioned, and then there are those that (for lack of a better phrase), "want to watch the world burn."

The people in the ABC video are mostly the kinds of gang members I've interacted with personally. They're good people and they have big dreams. But they have to join a gang because sometimes, that is the only way to survive. They join gangs to protect their families and children so that maybe, just maybe, one day their kids can make a name for themselves. On the other side of the coin, there are the ignorant ones. The ones I feel are best represented by Chief Keef and Lil Reese (watch this...disgusting smh). It seriously pains me to say that these guys are from my city. The ones that have no ambition or desire to leave the hood. They shoot, they kill, they smoke, they drink, they don't care, they womanize, they brutalize, they simply just don't give a f**k. Why? For what? God knows.

Lupe Fiasco, as eccentric as he may be, hits the nail on the head in this video:


I've said this plenty of times before and I'll say it again: I'm not, as Lupe says, a "hood n***a." I didn't grow up with killers and my homies aren't in every gang imaginable. But that doesn't mean I haven't experienced all of those. Yeah, I roamed the streets of my own hood. And yeah, they're far more calm than the Westside. But that doesn't mean I haven't seen people killed on my block. It doesn't mean I haven't seen drug deals, guns, and prostitutes just a few blocks from my house. It doesn't mean there aren't ghosts in my neighborhood.

I wish I could end this post in a better way. With some sort of hypothetical solution that if never achieved, would at least provide some type of comfort that maybe one day things will get better. But it's a vicious cycle that I don't know how to stop. I can't even think of a logical or practical solution. Yeah, you can say we need to provide more education. You can say we need families to stay together and create a positive environment for their children. You can say we need to give these kids opportunities so that they have a step ladder out of the hood. The problem is that with every murder I hear about, more and more of my belief in these proposed solutions dissolves.

Now I've been taught that whenever we talk about a dark subject, it should end on a positive note. So I'll leave it at this: no matter how dark things get, there is always a light at the end of the tunnel. The end of the tunnel may be so far away that the light is no bigger than a speck of dust, but it is there. Yes, let's provide opportunities for kids of all ages, sizes, and backgrounds to achieve. Let's give them education and teach them the value of work ethic. Let's show them how the hood won't get you nearly as much success as being a CEO of a company, small or large. And if there are doubters like myself who believe the hood will never cease to exist, help change our minds.

Show us that the video below is what Chicago is all about. Not that other bullspit.


Let's make it so that the future of Chicago holds more than just ghosts roaming the street.

Yeah, yeah. It's hood now.

Peace and love. I mean that.

Farewell; A Call To All

As quickly as it has come, it is leaving even quicker. It's just like that one friend you had. The one you became so close to and couldn't go a day without talking to, and suddenly they're gone. You wonder how they could leave just like that. You think to yourself that there's no way someone can come and affect you so greatly in such a positive way and then disappear the next day. The only thing you can hope for is that one day they'll come back and you can renew the strong connection you had from last time.

This is what the end of Ramadan is like to me this year.

The reason I say this year is because I don't think I've ever had a Ramadan like this before. A Ramadan where I did as much dhikr (remembrance of Allah) and tried to avoid as many sins as I possibly could. I'm not trying to flaunt any sinning I've done in my past, but I would be lying if I told you I was "religious" or "pious." That's not to say that I'm not trying though. 

This Ramadan was a month of reflection for me. A month of redemption. Reflecting on the past mistakes I've made and redeeming myself in the eyes of Allah. It was the first Ramadan where in addition to avoiding food and drink, I had to be consciously aware that I wasn’t lying, cursing, backbiting or anything else negative that could technically discount your fast in the eyes of Allah. It was the first Ramadan where I heard the Imam cry while reciting the Quran during taraweeh and wonder if there was something wrong with me because I hadn’t shed a single tear. It was the first Ramadan where I had no distractions. No excuses. Nothing at all to stop me from taking full advantage of this month. No school, no work, no family obligations, nothing.

At ICC (Islamic Center of Chicago), they have a great program where there’s a short tafseer (lecture) about the verses that were read during that night’s taraweeh (nightly prayer during the month of Ramadan). This month, I made sure that I listened carefully to what the sheikhs had to say and tried as best as I could to apply them in my daily life. I tried to read as much Quran as I could while looking at the meaning at the same time so I know what I was reading. I tried to limit the number of times I went out with friends to have iftar (the meal to break your fast) or suhoor (the meal you eat right before you start your fast). The little things count.

It was a month where I actually felt at peace. There were things that tested my patience but I tried as best as I could to keep calm and just leave it be. Or so I thought.

In the past couple weeks, Islamophobia has seemingly become more widespread and more closer to home. A representative in my own state claimed that “radical Islamists” had infiltrated the suburbs of Chicago. And as soon as he said this, a barrage of hate crimes were reported. Air rifles were fired at MEC in Morton Grove, IL. CPSA in Lombard, IL had a homemade acid bomb thrown at it as well. Both during the times of our nightly prayer. Mosques all over the country including Boston and Oklahoma City were vandalized. And of course, there was the mosque that was burned down in Joplin, MO.

We Muslims as a whole tried to stay patient through all of this. Yes, charges were filed in some cases and justice (God willing) will prevail. The authoritative figures dealt with the situations in a reasonable way. Let the ignorant ones hate, we said. There’s nothing more we can do but show them that we’re not who they think we are. We are as peaceful as people can get. Theoretically. I’m asking all my Muslim brothers and sisters to please watch yourself. Not in the sense that you may be a victim of some hate crime, but watch yourself because you are a representative of a peaceful religion. If we perform belligerent actions, those around us will think that Islam teaches such things. Again, keep in mind that although you may not be the perfect Muslim by any means, you still represent Islam. For all you know, the guy carrying your grocery bags to your car may change his ignorant views of Islam simply through your actions because you may be the only Muslim he has ever come across personally. The root word for Islam literally translates to peace. Let’s be pioneers and examples of peace.

But then came news about Syria. And more disturbingly, Burma. I will be honest, this “ethnic cleansing” has been going on for over a decade in Burma but I have not heard about it till very recently. I ask of my fellow Muslims and non-Muslims alike to stand up against this. All you have to do is make your voice heard. Sign a petition, post a video on Facebook, organize a fundraising at your school. Do something to stop this for this is not about Islam, this is a humanitarian issue that must be addressed.

Anyway, back to me.

These events disturbed my peace a little. Then came issues about my personal life that disturbed my peace a little more. At times I wanted to snap and just forget about it all. I just wanted to “do me.” And then I thought of how almost my entire life I had been like that. That hard-headed, hard-hearted guy that would do whatever he wanted without caring what others thought. I figured it wasn’t worth going back to that because it got me nowhere.

So what did I decide for the time being? To just be at peace for now. At least until Ramadan is over. If people did me wrong or hurt me in any way, I dropped it. I’m not gonna exert any energy trying to fight back or get revenge. I’ll just smile and be polite and continue staying focused on bettering myself as a person because we are all far from perfect.

Sidenote: If you haven’t noticed already, this is going to be more like a rant. So to continue…

I have realized how blessed I am this Ramadan. Despite all the negative things that have happened, I am thankful to be where I am today. I have family and friends that I may butt heads with but at the end of the day, the love is still there. I’m blessed to have found a job this summer that opened up my eyes to a totally new experience. I’m blessed to have the opportunity to obtain a higher education. I’m blessed to have the food on my plate every day, hot water running through my house every day, an air conditioned car at my disposal, electronic devices that keep me updated on everything at every time. And more than that, I’m blessed to have two arms, two legs, and the ability to see, hear and think.

When I realized all these blessings, I realized something else as well. I realized how I take every single thing for granted. As if this was supposed to happen because I was born and raised into a middle class family in Chicago. For that, I ask for forgiveness from Allah because without Him, I am nothing.

Watching the Olympics made me respect and view athletes in a much different light. Those who praised God (whatever religion they may be) whether they won or lost really hit me hard. I need to start doing that in my own Olympics which I call my life. There’s a line by Outlandish that goes “If you fail, you take a bow. Even if you succeed, you take a bow.” Bow in front of God because He is the reason you won. And if you lost, it’s because He has bigger plans for you.

Tonight, the Quran was completed during the taraweeh prayer. The huffazs (people who memorized the entire Quran by heart) cannot be commended enough for their beautiful recitation throughout the month. May Allah build them mansions in Heaven. I felt chills during prayer today. The Imam broke down in tears as did many others during the recitation. And again it made me wonder if there was something wrong with me because my eyes were still dry.

And now as I think about how tonight is the 27^th night of Ramadan, I want to rewind back to the first night and redo it all again. All those nights after taraweeh when I just came and sat on gchat for a bit before going to bed could’ve been spent more productively. There were times of weakness when I was listening to music, I would’ve changed that. When I was too hungry to do anything else, I sat and watched tv and saw some things that I shouldn’t have, I would’ve spent that time more wisely. But as Mufti Hussain Kamani said tonight, it’s not about how you start the race but rather how you finish it. I plan to make the most of these last 3 nights or so of Ramadan. I know, it seems counterproductive that I’m writing this now but I do it in hopes that putting it in writing truly helps me see how much this Ramadan has meant to me.

I’ve seen people do a Ramadan Reflection type of post for each day of Ramadan. InshAllah (God willing), I will try to do the same next year if I am able to see Ramadan again. Because I know I wanted to say a lot more in this post that’s just slipping my mind right now. Maybe it’s for the better because this rant is way too long lol. I will improve on my mistakes from this year and the best way I can do that is by working on them starting today.

I ask you all to please pray for me and to pray for the world. For all humans alike. Men, women, children. Black, white, brown, yellow, red. Young, old, in between. We are all humans. We are all flesh and blood. We all came from Adam and Eve and one day we will all rest in the dirt. Nothing makes one of us better than the rest. We are all equal. Money, power, fame are nothing because they are just blessings God gave you. He can just as easily take it all away. So don’t flaunt it, just be grateful. And give back. Because at some point, you were desperate too. Even if you weren’t, have a heart. Look at the people in Burma (seriously, click this link), look at the people in Syria, Palestine, Bangladesh, Pakistan, Somalia, China, Jordan and every other place where people are being oppressed. Don’t stand for injustice or ignorance. Don’t be silent in the face of inhumane acts. I’ll be the first to admit that the older generation has some narrow minded ideals when it comes to certain things. Let’s break these walls down and unite as a people to create peace. And speaking of peace, let’s pray that nothing like what happened at the theater in Colorado, or the shooting in the Sikh temple in Wisconsin, or Virginia Tech, or Columbine ever happens to us.

To my fellow Muslims specifically, please pray for peace within ourselves. Seeing incidents at IFS and the Northridge Masjid in Los Angeles hurt us more than you can imagine. Let us put aside petty differences and work in the path of Allah. Let us resolve these little issues quickly so that we can focus on uniting our Ummah as a whole. United we stand, divided we fall. And right now, we are falling. What a terrible way to say goodbye to Ramadan.

Let us rise above hate, ignorance, oppression and discrimination. Let us pray and strive for peace and unity.

#OneUmmah

Lupe Fiasco - "Lamborghini Angels"

After all the speculation as to how Lupe's Food & Liquor II: The Great American Rap Album will turn out, Mr. Fiasco drops this gem to show us all that he's still got it. I don't wanna delve into the deeper meaning of this song because I personally find it much more satisfying when I find a hidden meaning in Lupe's music on my own, so go ahead and take a listen. There's a lotta religious content involved so I'm gonna give y'all the same warning Lupe gave us: "If you are easily offended or religiously sensitive DO NOT listen to Lamborghini Angels. Contains very disturbing content [and strong subject matter]. Listener discretion is thoroughly advised."

But looking at the song aesthetically? The beat is smooth yet bangs hard on the speakers. The chorus will get his older fans hooked. And the flow can only be described as "Food & Liquor flow." Enjoy!

#LupeBack

Lord Knows

A whirlwind of violence has taken over the world as of late. And unless you live under a rock, you most likely have heard of some, if not all, of these tragedies. The Syrian revolution. The genocide of Muslims in Burma. The theater massacre in Aurora, CO. And most recently, the mass shooting inside a Sikh temple in Oak Creek, WI.

Oh and not to mention the staggering fact I heard recently about how more people have been killed in the streets of Chicago than American soldiers in Afghanistan since 2001. Blows your mind right?

Now, I'm not really here to talk about these events or the implications of such events or anything like that. There are plenty of resources for you to look up if you want that aspect. What I wanna talk about are our reactions to such events. And when I say "our," I mean the general public in the United States that aren't really affected directly by these events. Even though we should be.

What do I mean by this? Well, maybe the examples I used aren't great ones. The Colorado shootings had created an uproar in the States as people called for stronger gun control laws. But it's been a couple weeks since the shootings and most of our lives have gone back to normal. The shooter was crazy, that's why he did it. That's our general opinion.

Massacre at a Sikh temple? Oh, the guy was just a white supremacist.

Syrian revolution where thousands of innocent people are getting killed? Oh well, you're bound to have sacrifices in a revolution.

Muslims being killed in Burma? Oh...well, s**t happens.

Another 3 people killed on the south side last night? After 2 people were killed the night before? And probably another 10 by the end of the week? Sucks.

Do you see the problem here? We've become so desensitized to people getting killed that it doesn't bother us anymore. We turn on the news and we can't wait for the reporters to get through who got killed so they can hurry up and get to the sports segment. It doesn't affect us in the slightest that although they may be different in culture and religion than yourself, there are hundreds of thousands of innocent human beings like yourself being slaughtered for being who they are.

Imagine waking up one day to hear a knock on the door. You open it to find men fully dressed in battle gear rush inside your home. You and your family were just eating breakfast a minute ago, and now these men have already slit your father's throat. They've tied your mother up and taken her somewhere to do unspeakable things. Your older brother tries defending your family and gets shot in the head. Your little sister is pushed to the side as she cries in terror.

Seems almost unimaginable right?

Now think about how this is a reality for so many people overseas. Innocent people who are getting slaughtered just because God made them the way they are. Because of their beliefs. Their ideals.

If you can't imagine that, let's go a little closer to home. You're with your friends playing ball after school one day. You hear about gangs and whatnot all the time but you don't let it bother you. You've had gangstas come up to you trying to recruit you but you don't pay them any mind. You're not out to hurt anyone or disrespect anyone, you're just doing you. You're minding your own business. So after going 4-for-5 in basketball this one evening, you decide it's getting late and hop on the Red Line to go home. You're wearing that lame t-shirt they hand out at school and laugh to yourself as you think about how you're probably the only person in the world wearing a lame orange shirt with a dolphin in front. Got your new black Adidas shorts on and those worn out Reeboks you've had for forever. It's only a few weeks till your birthday when you'll get money from family and use it to buy a nice, shiny pair of Nikes. You get off at your stop and start the 3 block walk back to your house. You notice a few guys following you but you don't pay any mind. You're just being paranoid, right? After all, you have no enemies. You're cool with everyone.

The next morning, everyone at school is talking about you. And how you were fatally beaten and your bloody and battered body was found in an alley next to a dumpster. The news is reporting how you were mistaken for a rival gang member because of the colors you were wearing.

Across town, a family is watching the news. A 17 year old kid, mistakenly identified as a gang member, was beaten to death. The channel flips to FOX though because The Simpsons is on at this time. And plus, sports isn't on till 5 minutes before the end of the news broadcast.

There is something seriously wrong with us if we hear the news of death and it doesn't strike a beat in our hearts. Because at that point, we've lost our humanity. When we lose the ability to sympathize, we lose our humanity. When we brush off the news of death just because we hear about it all the time, we lose our humanity. When it doesn't anger us that dozens of people were murdered for no reason, we lose our humanity.

What I wanna do with this post is simply make a call to everyone that's reading this. I wanted to keep this as short as possible because I want this message to be clear and concise. Please do not lose your humanity. Train yourself to the point where whenever you hear the news of someone dying, you take a moment to realize what had just happened. Step in their shoes if you have to. The shoes of the families and friends. The shoes of the victim who could've been you for all you know.

On that note, please pray for humanity as well. Pray for the victims of the theater shooting in Colorado who were just trying to enjoy a fun night out. Pray for the innocent Syrians killed every day and pray they have peace and victory in their quest for fairness and freedom. Pray for the Muslims in Burma so as they don't have to face death because of their beliefs. Pray for the Sikhs in Wisconsin murdered for no reason other than they were different than the shooter. Pray for all of humanity so that we can all accept each other for who we are regardless of beliefs or skin color. Pray that we are not judged by how we look or what religion we choose to follow. Pray that we never lose our sense of humanity. Pray for unity. Pray for peace. For after all, we are all human. At the end of the day, we're all flesh and blood and not one of us is better than the other. No one's right to live is greater than anyone else's. May these senseless killings stop, and may Allah give the righteous victory. Ameen.

Credit to: Hichammm

Leaving A Legacy Part 2

Some people let their dirt out, some just keep it all in em. So when a man dies, all his secrets go with him and fade. A part of history no longer known. Did a lotta dirt I'll bury with me when I'm gone. When my story's told, how will they tell it?

Will they say I was a giver or remember I was selfish?

Will they say I was a sinner or pretend I was a saint?

Will I go down as a winner? What's the picture they're gonna paint?

Wouldn't say that I'm a quitter, that's one thing I know I ain't. Will they tarnish, will they taint? Glorify me, over-think?

Say they know me, say I'm great? Say I'm phony, I was fake? Say the things about me they never told me to my face?

I was loved, I was hated. Just a guy with a dream. I'm a liar, I was honest. I was all of these things. When I'm gone, let them talk; discussing who I am. When they bury me, just know I wasn't nothin but a man.

If I should die, let this here be my will. Reincarnate a guy, send me right back to the Chi. Let me relive my younger days just once again. Reenact my memories from every friend to every sin. Keeping demons buried deep inside my closet...

Yet I put in work like a deposit on my bank account. My eyes lit while I think about my childhood. Now I'm blanking out. Those were truly my best days. The only thing I had to stress was how the heck to get girls. Gradually turned into me stressing how the hell to get work. Been schooling so long, now how's this gonna help me get paid? Ok, I'm moving along quickly. I guess the flow is sickly. But yet I can't forget my past and hope it won't forget me. Got good grades, but A's can't stop strays so pray for me.

See brothas pour liquor but hey, don't wait for me. Because I'm out to cheat death, she out to bury my ass. You know the cliche "life's a b***h"? Well I'm gonna marry that ass and a sign a pre-nup.

Think back to when we tore the basketball court up. Rapping and we scrapping, got older and started hitting  the bars up. Gave mean mugs to other brothers, but we winked to all the girls. Then we went back to the crib thinking we had saw the world. No sir.

Came a long way from having mama chauffeur. It's hard to think these girls at some point were so pure. But now we play the game..

When it's over, send me back. I swear I'm not gonna change a thing.

Farewell.

NOTE: Ok so, this isn't an original piece. What I wrote above are actually lyrics to a J.Cole song entitled "Farewell." Now the reason I did this is because I don't think I've ever had a song where I relate to basically every single verse. I changed it up a little from the original lyrics, but it's nearly identical. The reason I didn't just post the song was because I want you to read the lyrics. Also, I felt it went almost hand in hand with my last post which is why I entitled this Part 2. Check out the actual song below.

Leaving A Legacy

Everyone has hopes and dreams. Something they'd like to achieve before their time on this planet is over. And in order for one to reach these goals, they have some sort of motivation. Something that pushes them and gets them to strive towards achieving this goal. A role model, perhaps. An inspiration.

For me, this person would be my grandfather.

Some of the earliest memories I have of my life have to do with my grandfather. For as long as I can remember, he always commanded respect everywhere he went. Yet he never held his nose up at people. Every single memory I have of him is of him being childish, funny, loving and always having a smile on his face.

Allow me to share some stories with you about my grandfather.

Back when he used to visit Chicago from Bangladesh, we used to always go on walks around the neighborhood. One day, it started storming during one of our walks. We were still quite a ways away from the house and were in the middle of a park. As soon as lightning struck, thunder rumbled and the rain came down like no tomorrow, my grandfather pulled me underneath a tree as we sought shelter.

"The safest place during a thunderstorm is under a tree," he said.

That night, there was a news piece about how a bajillion trees were struck down by lightning. ABC 7 News also gave viewers tips on what to do in the event of a thunderstorm. Of course, the number one tip they had was to never stand under a tree. We both looked at each other and cracked up.

Another time, I walked into my room (where he was staying on his visit) and sat down at my desk. He had a ton of Bengali comics and books full of funny stories. He'd read em to me and die laughing. I'd laugh along even though I didn't understand half the things that were being sad. It was funny because he thought it was so funny. So on this one particular day, he read a couple stories then looked at me. He asked what my middle name was and I told him. "S.S.A." were my initials. He took out a piece of paper then wrote down the three letters. He then asked, "do you know what your initials backwards are?" I enthusiastically said "Yes! A-S-S!" He looked at me for a second, then laughed as hard as I've seen him laugh. "You're an ass backwards!" he proclaimed. I still laugh thinking about that haha.

He was also the one that got me into watching wrestling. Every Friday night, Smackdown would come on and we'd watch some of our favorite wrestlers duke it out. He always tried to convince me that it was fake but I told him he was crazy because no one could fake a Stone Cold Stunner! And of course whenever my dad came home and yelled at me for watching too much tv, my grandfather would toss the remote at me and take sides with my dad. Good times for sure, lol.

And then come some of more somber memories. He had suffered from asthma for as long as I can remember and he always had problems with this more than anything else. It got to a point where he was bed-ridden for the last few years of his life. I remember going to Bangladesh one summer and he was in bed sleeping with his oxygen tank. I'd never seen him in such a state of helplessness. The houseworkers had to feed him his meals, he'd need help taking showers. It was a sad situation. And it was a miracle when he started walking around and being his carefree self again right before we came back to the States.

Fast forward to March 2005. I get a call from my uncle (who also lived in Bangladesh) and he told me to give the phone to my dad. No hi's, hello's, how are you's. I thought this was odd but didn't care much of it. My dad was taking a nap but I woke him up since it was a long distance call. I gave him the phone then went back to my room only to hear him break down five seconds later. I ran back and was trying to figure out what happened. My dad couldn't even speak on the phone anymore so he gave it back to me and my uncle, also sobbing, told me what had happened. My grandfather had passed away from his latest asthma attack. I was speechless and I didn't know what to do. This was the first time I had experienced a family member dying. A close one, at that. And this was also the first time I saw my dad cry. My dad. The guy who nothing or no one ever seemed to phase, the rock that held the entire family together, had just broken down.

Through his sobs, my dad asked me to call my mom and let her know what happened. She was at work and I didn't really even think about giving her any warning as to what I was just about to say. To be honest, I can't remember the conversation but I recall her coworker bringing her back home and she started crying as soon as she walked in too. I remember the exact spot in the living room where I was sitting that whole night as people started coming over to visit and console my dad. It was for a good three days straight that people were at our house. Sleep was forgotten, food was only eaten when someone almost force fed us. It was one of the most difficult times for my family.

I remember going to school the day after we got the news and for some reason, I immediately walked up to my teacher and told her what happened. She was Muslim as well, not that it matters. But she was always very nice to me and my mom loved her. That day felt like a dream. My body just went through the motions of school, but I wasn't there at all. The whole time, I was only thinking about something my grandfather said when we went to visit him in Bangladesh while he was bed ridden.

Now before I tell you the three words that he told me, lemme give you a little look into my personality back then. I had a lotta faces in those days. From around 6th grade till my junior year in high school, I could care less about anything or anyone. I don't wanna say I was a rebel or anything like that, I just didn't like or respect authority. I never really sympathized or empathized or any other-pathized with anyone. My whole concept was to "do you" and "trust no one." I'm not gonna front like I grew up in the hood or anything like that because I didn't. But it was still the city life. Fights were common in our public schools, everyone grew up the hard way and we always resented rich people simply because we couldn't have what they had. And just because we were on the northside of the city, doesn't mean we didn't lose our friends to the streets. It's what made us hard and our skins tough. We told the world to bring it because we were damn ready to face it or die trying.

My grandfather noticed and he didn't like it. Sure, I was loose around the family but he saw how I interacted and reacted to situations thrown my way. So the only three words I remember him saying on that visit were three simple words.

"Soften your heart."

Like I said, he died in 2005. That was the year I graduated 8th grade. Also recall that I said I was the same way all the way until junior year. Sure, his death rocked our entire family's life. But I went back to my ways a few weeks after his death. Long story short, I met and associated with better people starting my junior year that allowed me to finally see his words and take them to heart. Finally take those words, implement them, and allow myself to be more human.

Now what's my point in all of this? Well if you've been reading this blog for a while, you'll know I never have a point lmao. I just write. But there is one thing I wanted to touch on in this particular post.

Whenever someone mentions my grandfather, they talk about how great of a person he was. He used to be a judge and was known as one of the fairest in the entire country. He has schools, hospitals, playgrounds named after him. Entire villages know of him and his family. In fact, we went to Bangladesh later in 2005 after he died. It was Eid at that time. We went to Eid prayer that morning where there were hundreds of people. My dad got lost somewhere in the mix and so did my cousins and uncles. After the prayer was over, I was walking around searching for the family. One by one, nearly every single person in the gathering came up to me and asked "You're Yakub Ali's grandson aren't you?" It was stunning to me how they recognized who I was. No one had introduced me and I hadn't been to Bangladesh in years. Plus I had hit puberty since last visiting so I was no longer the short, chubby version of myself. I acknowledged that they were correct and was still stunned at how or why everyone knew me. To this day, people come up to me and tell me stories about my grandfather. More political stories about how he helped the community and helped everyone that asked  for it while upholding his and his family's dignity.

He left a legacy that will remain for generations to come.

What's our one hope after we die? We hope that we achieve all our goals and see our dreams become reality before our time is over but more than that, we don't want to be forgotten. There's that one saying that used to always strike me for being so powerful:

"When you were born, you were crying while everyone else was smiling. Live your life so that when you die, you're the one smiling while everyone around you is crying."


That's what I wanna achieve. I wanna live my life so that when I die, people ask my grandkids "You're Sifat Ali's grandson aren't you? He was a great man that did his part to help the world around him." I wanna leave an impact. I was telling one of my friends recently that I like leaving things with a bang. Of course, we were referring to dumb things in that particular context but this can be applied to my life. I wanna leave with a bang. When I die, I want people to remember that I did something positive. That I helped the world for the better in some way. That I was someone's role model, someone's rock, someone's inspiration. If I live to be half the man my grandfather was, I will die a happy man. If I live a life powerful enough to leave a legacy for generations to come, I will truly rest in peace.

Words I Never(?) Said

There are many powerful words that we take very lightly in today's digital age. We throw words like "hate" and "love" around like nothing. We call as many people as we can our "friends." We "trust" almost anyone that'll give us the time of day. We greatly underestimate the value of words and in turn, it is hard to differentiate the genuine from the shallow. Maybe we can blame the worldwide phenomenon of social networks and micro-blogs (namely Facebook and Twitter, respectively) for this under-appreciation. People say anything and everything they want, whenever they want. They're just machines that spew out utter nonsense which allows for the profound, genuine, substantial and intellectual minds to get lost  in the murky waters.

Sidenote: I'm not claiming to be profound, substantial or intellectual lol. But don't get it twisted, I am genuine.

 I just wanna take a brief look at all the words I put in quotes up above. Let's start with love. Love is an extremely powerful word. My Twitter and Tumblr followers have seen many a post stating how you can't just tell anyone you love them. And this is true. We say we "love" many things. Food, cars, cell phones, women that we'll never have (see: Melanie Iglesias), etc. But is that really the same "love" we use when we say we love our mother? Our father? Our wife? Our children?

Webster dictionary defines love as "unselfish loyal and benevolent concern for the good of another." Would you really get heartbroken if your phone's screen cracked? Yeah, you'd be upset for a bit. But it wouldn't be long until you got a new phone or have the cracked screen replaced. Now think about if you lost someone you loved. Your mother. Your sister. Your child. Imagine how that'll impact you. Imagine the pain you'd feel when you come to the full realization that you'll never see this person again. You see what I'm saying?

It's annoying as all hell when I see females on my Facebook commenting on their "friend's" (we'll get to that in a bit) latest profile picture with "OMG! You look GORGEOUS. Why aren't you a model yet?! Love ya!" and then turn around the next day airing that same girl's dirty laundry to anyone that passes by. C'mon shawty, that ain't love. Love is when you have someone on your mind constantly. You're always worried about what they're doing and how you can help them if they need anything. Love is when you'll throw aside anything you're doing to help the person if they ever call for your help. Love is when you'll demonstrate a kind gesture on a constant basis without being asked. Love is when you buy your mother flowers outside of only just her birthday or Mother's Day. When you take your girl out to a nice dinner just because you know it makes her smile. When you buy your family tickets to Six Flags after a grueling school year. It goes deep. You feel it deep in the bottom of your heart. It's almost unexplainable.

What annoys me even more than those Facebook chicks are when people say everything I just said about love, but then throw around the word "hate" as if there's no tomorrow. If I had a dollar for every time I heard "haters gon' hate," I'd be bankin! (I admit, I've thrown that statement around generously myself). But we hate things as much as we love em. Food, cars, cell phones, women that we know we'd get rejected by but still get hurt when they reject us or ignore us (see: Melanie Iglesias). Is that really hate though? When your mom won't let you stay out late Saturday night and you Tweet: "I HATE my mother!" do you really mean that?

Hate is usually defined as having an intense hostility towards something, according to Webster dictionary again. Hate is the feeling you should have when you hear about injustices happening all over the world (see: Syria and Burma). Hate is the feeling you should have when you hear about another kid from high school getting shot for no reason.

What's most important though, is to channel the hate into something productive and positive. Take the last example I just gave. You just heard that the kid you used to make jokes with every single day in Biology back in high school died in a drive by shooting. This guy had no gang affiliation and wasn't doing anything to hurt anyone in any way. You feel the hate pulsing through your veins. So now what do you do? Do you grab a gat and start shooting up other people as revenge? If you did, what makes you different from the guy that killed your homie?

Love and hate are extremely strong feelings that can cloud your judgment and the most important thing when dealing with these two powerful emotions is to be able to control it. These emotions are rooted at the heart. When dealing with them, make sure your brain has a fair chance to balance emotion and logic. Never get caught up.

Now in the same way that love and hate went hand in hand, "trust" and "friend" both go hand in hand as well.  Let's start with friend.

As I said earlier about Facebook chicks, the people we may consider friends nowadays are not really friends at all. One day you guys are inseparable, the next day you're making sure everyone on the planet knows what a fake this person is. All 1,000 people you have on your Facebook are who you consider friends. Really though?

Maybe it's just me and call me anti-social, but I don't really make friends that easily. Friends are people I consider helpful and trustworthy. They're the ones you can count on most of the time to lend you a hand when you need it. Of course, there are different levels of friendships. And I'll be honest, maybe about 75% of my Facebook friends are people that I wouldn't really consider my friends. No diss though. They're old and/or classmates of mine, old coworkers, friends of friends, some distant relative, or just some random guy you met once at some gathering. When it comes to actual friends, there's those people you talk to every few days, the few guys in the group you hang out with 3 or 4 times a week and then there are those you trust and consider close friends.

Of all my friends, I only consider 4 or 5 my close friend (and yes, there is one that's closer than the rest). And the way they've gotten to this level in my eyes is through trust. Trust. What those 4 or 5 friends know is that trust is absolutely huge to me. I don't trust easily. And that may be one of the reasons I don't speak so freely in front of many others. I'm not really a fan of small talk. Again, not antisocial, I just don't really like spending time talking about things like the weather. Also don't get me wrong, I enjoy fruitful conversations as much as the next person. But I enjoy having those with my close friends rather than the casual ones.

Going back to trust...

I've always been known as the guy who kept to himself. Looking back just 3 or 4 years ago, I never told anyone anything. I had never opened up to a single person. My relationship with my family was very formal. I never really talked to my parents about anything deep or significant besides maybe school. I always put on a front when I was with friends or classmates.. I always figured they didn't care because truthfully, I didn't really care about them. And I'll be honest, I still feel like even my closest friends today just don't care. I've been yelled at as recently as a few weeks ago for feeling this way. You know who you are. I apologize if I made you feel that way because I do understand that I was being selfish and I hope you don't feel as if I don't care.

I appreciate my close friends more than I'll ever be able to show them but I'm trying to improve on that end. I hope you guys will think of me when you need anything at all because I will go out of my way to help you all out as best as I can. You're the few people I can trust and I hope I've done enough to show that you guys can trust me in return. And to my closest friend (you know who you are), I thank you from the bottom of my heart for everything you've done for me. All the times you were there to listen when a guy needed to vent, all the words of advice you've given, all the late night conversations that we have do not go unnoticed by me. Again to all you guys, I know I suck at showing appreciation so it figures I would just blog about how appreciative I am haha. Others would be jealous of the bond I have with each one of you.

See? Words are powerful, man. Never underestimate their power. And maybe this will get you thinking before you toss em around next time.

No Regrets

 If you're a friend of mine, you'll know I live by the mantra of "no regrets." In fact, I say it quite often. Especially after a certain event or experience in which there may be some form of affliction or second guessing.

 Earlier this summer, I had a job interview for a logistics position in a small but growing business in the northwest suburbs of Chicago. During the interview, I somehow brought up this "no regrets" philosophy of mine and had quite a lengthy (in regards to an interview) discussion about it with my interviewer. She asked me how I expected to grow if not by regretting bad decisions in my past in order to shape better decisions for the future.

 Why must someone regret something to be able to grow? Growing comes through experience, that's for sure. In our lifetimes, we make decisions upon decisions every single day. The latest decision you probably made was reading this post. Bigger decisions we make may be tied to our careers, both professional or as a student, our family or our relationships.

 So why don't I regret things?

 Don't get me wrong, I believe the value of experiences is priceless. You will never truly know something unless you do it. Read about basketball all you want but you'll never understand the rush of adrenaline you get when sinking a game winner with the seconds ticking down to 0 until you've done it yourself. Read the Quran every single day and while it's still beneficial, you'll never understand the spiritual relief and peace until you act upon the teachings that you've read about.

 In fact, to experience something is so great that I don't think I will ever forget significant experiences that I've been through in life. Good or bad. And tied in with these experiences are mistakes. Mistakes galore.

 Mistakes are what I choose to replace regrets with. When I mentioned this to my interviewer, she posed the question of whether or not I regret any mistakes I made. Or if there ever was a mistake so large that I had no choice but to regret it. I simply answered with "If I ever made a mistake so large that I'd regret it, I wouldn't be sitting in this chair today."

 Mistakes come in many forms. Some small, some large. But if I didn't make these mistakes (some maybe on more than one occasion), then it wouldn't shape me to be the person I am today. By no means am I saying that I've made it to where I wanna be or anything like that. I just wouldn't change anything that's happened to me in the past because it's only made me that much more prepared for anything in the future.

 In my eyes, considering something a regret means you wanna erase it from your memory. If you regret something, you wanna instantly act like it never happened. So Ms. Interviewer, how do you expect to grow from regrets? If you do something regrettable, you live in fear of doing something else that you'll regret while trying to forget about that first regret at the same time. If you make a mistake, you work to never make that same mistake again. Fear only hurts yourself. Making a mistake and learning from it shows strength and wisdom. It's you being proactive so that the next time you attempt something, it'll be an accomplishment.

 You followin' me? Lol.


 As I mentioned earlier, I'm nowhere near being where I wanna be. And in my nearly 22 years of existence, I've made some incredible mistakes. If there's one thing I learned from each and every single of them it's that if you're able to pick yourself back up after any of these mistakes, then that mistake is only beneficial to you.

Imagine a sheltered child. Sheltered in a way that his whole life, he's grown up living under the impression that everyone lives as comfortably as his family. Everyone has food on the table, heat in the winter and comfort at night. He doesn't know or understand the concepts of violence, cheating, and corruption.

 Now flip the coin.

 Imagine a child that has had to grow up quickly. He witnessed his single mother get beat frequently by random men as she struggled to keep food on the table. In the wintertime, all his siblings shared a small quilt and huddled up against each other to keep warm. He sees people getting shot up on the block every week. Drug dealers in the alleys, ruining someone else's life. People robbing convenience stores; not to cause chaos, but to survive. He's witnessed men in blue uniforms making deals with the most powerful street thugs. Nothing but liquor being poured out on the pavement where the blood was still fresh.

Now imagine both these individuals are thrown into the world. A neutral world. Not exactly a perfect little suburb, but not the wild hundreds either. They're on their own. Who survives?

 You get my point, right?

 As with all my posts, this was just a long ramble of my thoughts. Not nearly as organized as I would have liked, but something that gets both you and I thinking. Why live with regrets? I hate people that say "YOLO" all the time, but it's true. You only live once. But that doesn't mean you party, sleep around, drink and smoke weed all day. You only live one, so make the most of it. Do something good for those around you while making a name for yourself. Dream big and make realistic goals to eventually see those dreams become reality. Life ain't perfect and neither are you. You will not always succeed. You will make mistakes. You will fall. Don't ever regret anything negative that happens to you because it is only a learning experience. It will only make you stronger and more prepared for what's ahead. Life is a grind and the only way to make is to grind through it all. The pain, the happiness, the tears, the laughter. All the ingredients necessary to achieve your dreams. Mistakes will happen. Embrace them. Use them as a tool. Do what you gotta do...