Several redundant churches in Glasgow and other parts of Scotland are slowly being converted into mosques as Christian congregations dwindle while a growing Muslim population demands more places to worship. Colin Randall in the National:
Glasgow: When the Glasgow Central Mosque, then rivalling the biggest in Europe, opened a quarter of a century ago, it seemed all the needs of Muslim worshippers in Scotland’s largest city would be met at its imposing site on the banks of the Clyde.
But as the city’s Muslim population has swelled to 33,000, with the Pakistanis who have always formed its main component joined by refugees from conflict in Afghanistan, Iraq, Somalia and Sudan, demand has continued to grow for space. More than 70 years after organised worship first began, in the homes of Pakistani immigrants, Glasgow has 14 mosques, and some feel it could do with more.
It is not difficult to find examples of growth. Across the city, extensive work is under way to expand al Furqan mosque; elsewhere, two other mosques are being modernised. And 80 km to the east, a mosque that opened in January with the express aim of serving English-speaking Muslims in the capital, Edinburgh, chose Ramadan as the occasion to extend worship to Friday prayers. More
A helpline for victims has been inundated with callers. Jerome Taylor was given exclusive access to their harrowing stories. From The Independent:
The home Baljit Kaur Howard has made for herself in a quiet Ipswich cul-de-sac is a world away from what she calls her “previous life”. In her sitting room, a mug of tea in hand, she rests her head on her new husband, Phil. “It’s taken me a long time to learn to love Phil,” she says. “Before we met I’d never known what it was like to be loved unconditionally.”
Bal, as she likes to be known, was 17 when her father announced that she was going to be married to a family friend she had met only once before. She then spent eight years trapped in an oppressive, loveless marriage. “I had always expected to have an arranged marriage, but I did not expect a forced marriage,” she says. “I told my father that I didn’t want to marry him. He just said, ‘You’d better get used to the idea. If you run away I will find you’.”
Now aged 39, Bal considers herself lucky. She escaped, but in doing so has been disowned by her family.
Arranged marriages fascinate people in the UK ‘like watching horror films’. Don’t scoff, says Ziauddin Sardar (author of Balti Britain: A Journey Through the British Asian Experience), British society could learn a lot from the Asian experience. In The Guardian:
Consider the case of two sisters whose lives are thrown into turmoil by political events. The partition of India was mass trauma. The sisters were uprooted from all the normality they had known and had to trek to Pakistan along with their extensive family. But making a new life in a new place sent family members hiving off in all directions to find jobs and opportunity. The bonds of family seemed to be weakening, indeed on the verge of destruction. So the sisters hatched a plan to countermand the forces that were shattering their tradition. If their first-born children were a boy and a girl then they would arrange their marriage to one another. In this way they could preserve the family and pass on to their offspring the solidity and support the sisters had once known.
How could two women conceive of such a scheme for two people they had not yet conceived? And why would they imagine such a premature arrangement could possibly have a chance of succeeding? Well, consider that as sisters they shared a common heritage of values, socialisation, education and all the nurturing that goes into giving people a similar outlook on life and requirement of human behaviour. Who better to trust to pass these most cherished values and grooming on to a new generation than one’s own sister?
In The National, Burhan Wazir reviews Ziauddin Sardar’s “Balti Britain: A Journey Through the British Asian Experience,” published by Granta Books. [via 3quarksdaily]
Anyone living in London in the late Nineties couldn’t fail to notice that the city’s British Asian population was basking in its own Britpop moment. On Brick Lane, in the city’s traditionally poor East End, new restaurants and bars opened their doors to an influx of young artists attracted to cheap rents and good transport links in the borough of Tower Hamlets. Bangladeshi teenagers in Union Jack T-shirts patrolled the area with their pet boxer dogs, the status symbols du jour of national pride. Musicians like Talvin Singh, Asian Dub Foundation and Nitin Sawhney graduated from the ethnic press to the glossy pages of style magazines like The Face, Dazed & Confused and iD. Fans of those artists could even subscribe to a new magazine called Second Generasion – the title probably seemed clever at the time, but has aged with the same grace as Rave Un2 The Joy Fantastic, a Prince album from the era. Around the same time, Eastern Eye, the BBC’s weekend magazine show, began broadcasting Bollywood news and Asian current affairs, and the cast of Goodness Gracious Me dredged all humour from every available British Asian stereotype. Even cinema audiences weren’t immune to the delights of the Asian subcontinent: both East is East and Bend it Like Beckham played to packed screens for weeks.
The hunt for the next Shahrukh Khan and Aishwarya Rai arrives today in the UK, when the first British acting school dedicated to training future Bollywood stars opens its doors for applications.
The Ealing-based project is the first overseas branch of the Mumbai stage school Actor Prepares, founded by the Bollywood star Anupam Kher, who appeared in Bend it Like Beckham. He aims to address the exodus of talented British Asians who move 4,500 miles to India in search of fortune after finding opportunities here limited to bit-parts in soap operas.
Kher chose to launch Actor Prepares in London partly because of the popularity of Bollywood films in Britain; they have long been a source of nostalgia and, for second-generation immigrants, a means of connecting with their heritage. The school aims to be an Indian cinema version of the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art (Rada), with professional actors coming in from Mumbai to pass on their knowledge.
[Photo: Sabina Sheema, from west London, is now a Bollywood star]
In The Times, an extract from “If You Don’t Know Me By Now: A Memoir of Love, Secrets and Lies in Wolverhampton” by Sathnam Sanghera:
My dearest Mother,
There’s something important and difficult I’ve been meaning to tell you and because it’s easier to be brave on paper than in person, I thought I would do it by writing this, my first ever letter to you. But now I’m sat here, I wonder whether it’s such a good idea. The way I write English is different from the way I speak English, the way I speak English is different from the way I speak Punjabi, and like all mothers and sons, we have been conditioned into communicating with a certain degree of intimacy and distance, so it’s possible that you won’t even recognise my voice in this. But with no better options coming to mind, I will try to do what seems so difficult: stop worrying, trust my translator and hope for the best.
Anyway, as I said, I have something important to tell you, and it relates to the book I’ve been working on for the past 18 months. There were a great many reasons why I wanted to write it – to make sense of how Dad’s and Puli’s [his sister's] lives have been affected by their illness [schizophrenia], to attempt to rescue their experiences from oblivion – but one of the reasons I persisted even when it became very difficult was my desire to create some kind of tribute to you. I’ve always thought you were amazing, Mum. I know you must sometimes think I don’t listen when you complain about your ailments, but I know it was all those days at your sewing machine, to make sure that we were clothed and fed, that have left your body wracked with aches and pain, and I know I complain that you nag, but I understand that your phone calls and advice are just your way of saying you wish you saw more of me. But knowing now what you went through with Dad, and then again with Puli, that admiration has deepened.
A major survey – carried out by Muslim women’s magazine Sisters and Ummah Foods, a halal food business – shows most want to marry their soulmates and enjoy high street fashion, while keeping a delicate balance with their Islamic values. From The Observer:
She wants to marry her soulmate, shops in Primark, TK Maxx and Topshop, and dreams of starting her own business. Meet the typical Muslim woman in Britain today.
A thousand women throughout the country have responded to the biggest lifestyle study of Muslim women undertaken in the UK. It appears to show that Muslim women have established a delicate balance between a desire to live a contemporary lifestyle and tap into consumer trends while sticking to values underpinning the Islamic guide to life.
The survey shows that 58 per cent of Muslim women do not think the racial background of a partner matters, although two-thirds believe it is very important for their man to be knowledgeable about Islam.
How the Afghan heroin trade is fuelling the Taliban insurgency. In The Independent, UK, Jerome Starkey reports from Kunduz:
The heroin flooding Britain’s streets is threatening the lives of UK troops in Afghanistan, an Independent investigation can reveal.
Russian gangsters who smuggle drugs into Britain are buying cheap heroin from Afghanistan and paying for it with guns. Smugglers told The Independent how Russian arms dealers meet Taliban drug lords at a bazaar near the old Afghan-Soviet border, deep in Tajikistan’s desert. The bazaar exists solely to trade Afghan drugs for Russian guns – and sometimes a bit of sex on the side.
The drugs are destined for Britain’s streets. The guns go straight to the Taliban front line.
Gurkha captain Kushalsing Gurung, 72, served in the Queen’s Gurkha Engineers (QGE) for 30 years. He was stationed in Malaysia (then Malaya) and Hong Kong, where he built roads and bridges throughout his long career. He is one of thousands of retired Gurkha veterans currently fighting a new battle – to extract from the UK government the same pension that is given to British soldiers. From the Guardian Weekly:
When I joined the Gurkhas in 1952 at the age of 13, I lied to get in. The minimum entry age at that time was 15. I wanted to go to school and there was little prospect of an education in my village. My father was a Gurkha, as was my grandfather, and my brother served in the Indian Army. Being a soldier was considered a well-respected profession.
According to history, the Gurkhas have served in the British Army for almost 200 years. After Indian independence in 1947, under the tripartite agreement some Gurkhas joined the Indian Army and some joined the British Army. My regiment transferred to the British Army and became part of the Brigade of Gurkhas.
I was sent to Malaysia [then Malaya] in 1952 to receive my education. At the time not many Gurkhas had served there. Most soldiers were directly allocated a regiment, but because I was a young recruit I was able to decide for myself. I decided to be in the engineers. I wanted a good skill to bring back to my country.
A few weeks ago, when my friends and colleagues found out I had been the only newspaper journalist to be asked to carry the Olympic torch when it comes to London on 6 April (a traditional treat for a writer), they were all pleased for me. Now the same people are asking me if I am going to pull out in protest at China’s human-rights record and the recent events in Tibet.
While I am appalled at the oppression imposed on Tibet by China, its support of the regime in Darfur and its sickening record on human rights, the answer is no. I respect people’s rights to protest peacefully along the route and I sincerely hope their valiant efforts pay off in forcing the Chinese government to change. But it is not the Olympics that have let them down – it is the world’s politicians.
Ford on Wednesday confirmed that it has agreed to sell its luxury UK-based car brands Land Rover and Jaguar marques to Indian group Tata for $2.3bn (£1.15bn). In The Guardian, UK, Randeep Ramesh reports from Mumbai on how Tata has persevered – and largely succeeded:
When Italy’s L’Expresso magazine last month splashed with the news that Ratan Tata (photo), chairman of India’s Tata group, was going to buy up luxury car marque Ferrari the story made front page news across the world.
Although later denied, what was surprising was no one thought a bid from Mumbai’s Tata for Milan’s most wanted brand implausible. After all Tata had spent £6.7bn buying Anglo-Dutch rival Corus. It was certain to snap up Jaguar and Land Rover.
Few remember that Tata’s first car 10 years ago, the Indica, was little more than a noisy box on wheels. It was instantly dubbed “Ratan’s folly”.
In Fortune, John Elliott has a word, or two, of warning for Ratan Tata
Ratan Tata, who runs the Tata Group, one of India’s two biggest conglomerates, is buying into a history of trouble with his $2.3 billion cash deal, announced today, to acquire the Jaguar and Land-Rover companies from Ford (F). Transfer of ownership to Tata Motors is due to be completed by the end of June, and the question is whether Tata can then break a cycle of decline.
It’s been 40 years since the British government, in a bid to rebuild the country’s automobile industry, cobbled together ailing car brands such as Jaguar, Rover, Austin, Morris and Riley into a giant called British Leyland. BL, as it became known, was a failure, mainly because of endemic labor problems, uninspired products and poor quality. Since 1968, there have been many rescue attempts, but only rare short bursts of success. Several of the once proud names are long forgotten and none is British-owned; the iconic MG brand was bought three years ago by China’s Nanjing Automobile to make sports cars in China and the U.K., and the Morris Mini cult car is with BMW.
In The Sunday Times, UK, Dean Nelson meets Fiona MacKeown:
It is hard to classify MacKeown. Her children’s names – including Merlin, Kisangel, Isis Celeste and Trinity Willow – suggest mellow hippiedom. But she defines herself as a gypsy; when she sought planning permission to put caravans on her land she was backed by the Romany council. She is unconventional but when she says she was naive rather than negligent, I believe her. Those who have seen her with her children were struck by how bright, well mannered and affectionate they are.
With her brood of children, MacKeown would receive about £25,000 a year in benefits. In order to pay for the Goan holiday she told me she had saved £200 a week for months by living frugally – buying only rice to supplement the family’s home-grown vegetables and buying clothes for the children only from charity shops. Eventually they had about £7,000 for the trip, topped up by selling a pony for £1,000. It was a tiny budget for a six-month holiday once the flights for nine had been paid for.
London-based DJ and multi-instrumentalist Bisha has just released her debut album: Nights at the Circus. Born to Bengali parents and recently turned 24, Bisha is the talk of the underground music scene for her debut single, Never Seen Your Face. [See her live performance below] She was born in UK to a musical family; her mother is still an EMI signed artist. She has studied sitar at The Ravi Shankar School for Music.
