Tag Archives: gujarati

A Few Celebrations and One Funeral

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Mohabbat Khano Hirani

When I returned to Atlanta from Japan in April, I was hoping to strengthen relationships with my family; I imagined a lazy river floating into rivulets of family affairs. The last month has been a flood of activities. In the past few weeks my Atlanta-based family has seen, in chronological order: (1) A baby announcement and gender reveal party from my cousin Amjad (aka John), (2) the DC wedding celebration of my cousin Abbas’s daughter Rozi, and (3) the hospitalization and subsequent death of aunt Mohabbat Hirani (and grandmother of Rozi). I find myself immersed in the fast-moving whitewater of my family. Though I intend to write a blog post here every week, the care for my folks has come first.

By being here, in Atlanta, and by being open and available, my red Prius and I have had the opportunity to assist the family in unique ways. Mohabbat lived just a 10-minute drive away. I drove her to the gender reveal party for Amjad’s child. On the drive over, she taught me a Gujarati expression. Her idiom hinted at her times; it suggests that you can neither guess the weather nor the gender of a child. In that saying, I see she held anticipation for the mystery of life. From our encounter there, I had a hint of her deteriorating health; I supported her weight on my back as we walked twenty feet from my parked car to the party door. During the lunch and events, I remember seeing exhaustion in her eyes. Still, she patiently watched the festivities and listened as I shared a poem I wrote for the occasion. Mohabbat, whose name means love, made the effort to come to this party, I believe for symbolic reasons. She came to pass the torch and bless with love the next generation.

 

Though Mohabbat was in a weakened state, we had hoped she would make it to DC for her granddaughter Rozi’s wedding. Desi weddings tend to involve many events. Fortunately, one event was held in Atlanta. There, she met and blessed the union of Travis and Rozi. She smiled as we introduced Travis to the pithi ceremony where he was hazed with flour, eggs, and ketchup.  When it came time for us to head to DC, Mohabbat would be admitted to outpatient diabetic care at the hospital. Her daughter, Saeeda, stayed back to look after her along with two of my uncles.

Blessings at Pithi

Mohabbat is my mother’s oldest sibling. My mother called her Bhen, sister in Hindi. So I often called my aunt Mohabbat Bhen. It seemed fitting. Her presence always carried that calm, quiet love of the elderly and wise. No one expected the worsening of issues with Bhen’s hospitalization. On a sunny afternoon, in DC, the mehndi, at the first gorgeous DC ceremony we applied henna to our hands to celebrate the upcoming nuptials. There, we met Travis and his clan. On the following day, the day of the official Nikkah ceremony, Mohabbat was admitted to the ICU in Atlanta. Her daughter Munira left DC immediately and headed to her mom in Atlanta. That day, as I played with my niece Jenna, I was struck by the sense of impermanence. In my mind, I saw the contrast of Jenna’s young full cheeks against the soft, worn skin on my aunt’s arms. The remaining two days of socializing took on a somber tone. Rozi’s father Abbas left for Atlanta shortly after he walked his daughter down the aisle. The day after Rozi and Travis were officially hitched, the joint family brunch had a reduced crowd. As I met more of the Travis family, I realized the need for a family tree. His was much easier to pull together than ours. It is still on my to-do list…

Rozi accompanied by her mother and father

The next day, I returned to Atlanta where my cousin Sunya picked me up and drove us directly to the ICU to see Ben. By that time, my aunt Shahar (Ben’s younger sister) and my uncle Salim had driven from Toronto to Atlanta to be next to Bhen. Initially though admitted for complications from kidney failure, my aunt in the hospital looked to be deteriorating. She had a heart attack and a stroke while in ICU. During her time in the hospital, Mohabbat always had someone next to her reciting prayers and watching over her. For some excruciating days, my aunt’s condition worsened. She was breathing, feeding, and expelling from tubes. From there, the family made a difficult and yet, gracious decision to take Bhen off of life support.

Gathering in Her Honor

For the last few hours of her life, Mohabbat was transported to her home. Among the family members there, we took turns singing ginans, reading firmans, and reciting tasbih chants. This informal ceremony was also shared via Zoom with her family abroad. Her son and daughter in Australia recited her last prayers over WiFi. Mohabbat Bhen left this earth surrounded by the prayers and love of her huge family. In that gathering, I could see Mohabbat’s legacy and what had really mattered to her.

Our families are so interconnected. On the day after her passing, as is our tradition, we had a meal and prayers held at the home of the deceased. The gathering after Ben’s passing took me back to my high school days when we would meet with Mohabbat’s mother, and my grandma (Baa). We went to Baa’s house on Friday nights after prayers in khane. Our immediate family, my uncles, and cousins would hang out after we ate dinner. Then, we gathered around a big table and played cards, sometimes into the early AM. As we played, stories arose in conversation about the journey the family made from a dusty hamlet in Pakistan to our present plush surroundings in suburban Atlanta. Last week, then, as I saw my cousin, Munira’s kids gathered around the table mourning their grandmother, I thought of my grandma and her stories. I took that moment to teach Munira’s loving kids the same card game I learned from my grandma.

Sweet Teeth

As the funeral approaches, we will have more guests. When I initially arrived in Atlanta, I did not want to stay at my mother’s home for too long. However, both my mother and stepdad have extended a longer invitation through warmth and mutual respect. Also thanks to their hospitality, we have had a steady flow of family visitors during this tumultuous time.  The five bedrooms here have seen a steady flow of guests. In that way, I have had the chance to play host. My sister and adorable niece, my (favorite) aunt Shahar, and later Wazir and Parveen, have come to visit. Our kitchen it seems is a 24-hour cafeteria. My cousin Sunya, who is also extending her home in a housing crunch, jokes with me that we are running an unlisted Airbnb.

Despite my occasional introversion, for the first time in ages, I found myself energized by hosting the family that has been visiting. I found moments to provide comfort or a sensitive ear during difficulties. When my cousin Saeeda (Ben’s daughter) came over on the 1st day of summer, I plucked a gorgeous lily for her from our front yard. It glowed pride. I showed Saeeda the tiny little thorns on the lily’s upturned petals. This first blooming lily, I hoped, would give Saeeda a distraction to ease her soul for the parting of her mother.

Through this emotionally charged month, I am struck by how lucky we are that we can unite to honor my aunt Mohabbat Hirani. If this had happened during the last two years, we may not have been able to gather at all. Meanwhile, as we connect, the lessons and sagas of immigrant migration are ever-present. Three of Ben’s brothers live in Canada. Two of them lost their passports and have had to make emergency travel arrangements to arrive for the funeral. After some US visa pleading, two of Mohabbat’s children just arrived from Australia. As I head to the airport soon, I will pick up another uncle from Canada. The month of June included this as my birthday gift. I see that the universe allowed me to reconnect with my family. And that chance came in the shape of a tsunami. It is a blessing that I caught this wave.

 

The Foundation for FIRE: 3 Lessons from A Family in Permanent Hustle Mode

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Gujaratis are famous for their business acumen. Stereotypes make me cringe, but this one I see proven through my family experiences. Even with my professional education, I have always had some business on the side. As I trace my roots, I see entrepreneurs throughout my lineage. My maternal grandfather moved his family from post-colonial India to rural Pakistan. Through a combination of land ownership, the running of a small mill, and a wholesale grocer, he could support a family of nine. On the other side, my father’s family moved from India to East Africa to trade in agricultural goods. The stories of hustle were a natural part of my upbringing. The observations I made from watching my extended, and immediate family prepared me for the ups and downs of business. With a can-do spirit, the obstacles along the path became teachable moments.

Family Photo (circa 2001?)

1. Reading, Writing & Arithmetic

My uncle Wazir is a successful and well-loved real estate broker in Toronto. He did not, however, start his career in real estate. He was born in Pakistan and was offered a scholarship for a master’s program abroad through excellence in his studies. After finishing his engineering studies in Honolulu, opportunity took him to the shipyards of Baltimore. From there, he eventually sought a better quality of life in Canada. His analytical mind, undoubtedly honed by his education, led him to seek better returns on his time through real estate. With a singular focus, to make more time in his life for his family, he was able to engineer his life. From his strategic thinking and natural warmth, he grew his real estate business from word-of-mouth referrals. His example, to me, speaks of the combination of education and humanity in success.  

Similarly, while both of my parents were physicians, they both had a desire for business. When my parents arrived in Atlanta, neither was licensed to practice medicine in the US. My parents plunged their savings into a 24-hour gas station/ convenience store in a rough downtown neighborhood to make an income. This venture required grit, humility, and lots of hands-on management. From there, their golden egg, my mother was able to return to her studies and get licensure to practice in America. Eventually, she created her own medical practice in Atlanta’s underserved Latino community. Though she does not speak Spanish, she partnered with a well-connected church organizer. This partnership helped her to step into the market with language and relationships. My parent’s story carries the lesson of education and collaboration. In each instance, my mother’s business success relied on finding support from a partner.

2. Follow Your Heart

In the late 90s, my two favorite uncles lived around the corner from us in Atlanta. Initially, they worked at the family gas station. However, they did not want to participate in the sale of alcohol and cigarettes. For them, these products were part of a lifestyle inconsistent with Islamic principles. So, these two brothers searched for other ventures that would allow them to work with autonomy and righteousness. They investigated a windows and glass installation company; for a while, they helped homeowners delay the process of foreclosure. Finally, they settled on the business of hair distribution. When they first started, online shopping was not the norm. Shopify was non-existent; my uncles were early adopters. In the post-pandemic world, they have excelled because their platform was ready for a wholesale shift in perspective. In their struggle to follow certain principles, I find proof that anyone can find the right business if they keep at it.

Clean Up Pretty!

My cousin Mariam’s story, is probably my favorite, though. We are related via my father’s side of the family, and since she grew up in the UAE, we did not spend a lot of time together as kids. However, while I was at the University of Maryland Law School in downtown Baltimore, I got to know her better. She worked at a snazzy lighting store in Annapolis not too far away. Her eye for design and art were ever-present, and I am sure the lighting folks were happy to have her. But her heart was in crafts. She has a talent for making handmade soaps that are both beautiful and cruelty-free. Initially, she started selling her creations on Etsy. I remember buying her soaps early on. Ten years later, Chester River Soaperie operates in a worldwide niche for custom retail and wholesale soaps and lotions. Through her success, I see the importance of remaining faithful to your inner calling. Mariam is a creator, and now she stands in the world of her creation.

Dispute Diligently

3. Read the Fine Print

Running a business is not a cakewalk. Some of the lessons I learned are cautionary tales. Litigation can deplete cash reserves and sap emotional energy. Drew, one of my uncles, was eager to make money fast through the gas station business. He jumped into a lease-purchase agreement when he thought he saw a good deal. Drew believed he had a valid option to purchase the station without much external investigation. After a few months of running the store, the property was sold from under him. Drew was wronged, but he let his anger fuel his following choices. He embarked on protracted litigation over the right to purchase. In stubbornly chasing his indignation, Drew got a raw deal. He pursued a lemon and lost both money and energy. In Drew’s story, I see the importance of hiring help to do diligence and identifying when to cut your losses.

Even though Gujaratis share a fantastic track record, it is not just their birth in the community that entitles them to success. I saw that the goal was never money for the sake of money. The key motivations are a determination to do the right work and the perseverance to make a particular lifestyle. The larger goal was for a balance in purpose and family life. With these values at the forefront, the family keeps a humble and narrow focus on the more significant why. Beyond the veneer of success, there are the pox marks of sacrifices. I have been keeping an inner log of the lessons in my work towards financial independence. Most importantly, I recognize that it is a process. Good partners, good motivations, and sound legal counsel are critical to making it through.