Monday, 26 January 2009


I've been thinking .Arranged marriage thing is not going well for me.From about last 5 years I see all of 3-4 guys per year all because I was above 24.In my community a girl gets married by 24 and guys at 25-27 average. Anyway, I'm quite put off by the kind of guys 'matchmaking aunties ' [henceforth referred to as MA] show me. My height- all of 5ft 8" and dusky complexion is also terribly off -putting to 5ft 5" to 5ft 8" guys. That is the average height of Indian male !
Even after giving into the thought process of 'adjustment' and 'bare minimum expectations', I've failed to find a husband.
So i was thinking of giving up on it. The MAs and relatives glare,sympathize and ask me to be 'adjusting' by turns ! Sometimes its hilarious at other times I'm the proverbial joker who is made fun of ,pitied and underestimated.
I know I'm not alone on this jockeyed ,hackneyed ride- hell, most of the well educated ,working/not working,'sabhya and pramanik' women are punished for being single at 30.
The last guy I saw asked me in 20 different ways if i was going to give up on being career minded and happily settle down to be a devoted wife only. And i kept telling him in 20 different ways how i liked to be my own person and I quite could work for my satisfaction and be a devoted wife and mother.

Another guy wanted educated smart,english speaking [read: a girl like me] trophy wife who would willingly stay at home. He was 10th pass ! I have zillion gems like these about the guys from my community.They are blissfully esconced in their world however shamelessly want to tear the girl away from everything that she loves !
Many a times I was tempted to tell them exactly what i was thinking however i refrained as due respect for my parents.
The only option before me is to become sexily schizophrenic or unabashedly manipulative. I lack mental wiring for either !

Saturday, 24 January 2009

Emosanal Atyachar

Tauba mere jalwe tauba mera pyar, paar chada tha mere emosanal atyachar ! I know this song is dedciated to the senti devdass' of the world but it is also for likes of me: emosanal,senti girl.
Senti hoti hoon toh itna key climate change ho jaati- mere charon taraf ka climate !Senti ke aage hai 'mental'- kuch jyaada hi chance ho jaate hai mere mental honey ka ! Aajkal'rah -sha nal' aur 'prahc-ti cal' honey ke liye training ley rahi hoon. Lekin doubtful hai ! Meri wiring main hi kuch gadbad hai !

Anyway doondh nikala yeh lyrics ko - kya song hai !

Yeh Dil Pighla Ke Saaz Bana Loon
Dhadkan Ko Awaz Bana Loon
Smoking Smoking Nikle Re Dhooan
Seene Mein Jalti Hai Armanon Ki Arthi
Arrey What To Tell You Darling Kya Hua
Arrey Sapne Dekhe Jannat Ke
Par Mitti Mein Mil Jaen
Phooken Re Ghar Baar Ki Duniya
Ko Bole Good Bye
Chad Jae Haye Allah
Jisko Bhi Yeh Bukhaar
Tauba Tera Jalwa, Tauba Tera Pyar
Tera Emosanal Attyachaar!
Tauba Tera Jalwa, Tauba Tera Pyar
Tera Emosanal Attyachaar!
Jao Jao Oh Dilbar, Oh Dilbar Ohh!
Tauba Tera Jalwa, Tauba Tera Pyar
Tera Emosanal Attyachaar!

Ho Gai Dil Ke Paar Tragedy Tragedy
Lut Gai Re Bahaar, Gul Sukh Sukh Murjhae
Ho Gai Dil Ke Paar Tragedy Tragedy
Lut Gai Re Bahaar, Gul Sukh Sukh Murjhae
Bol Bol Why Did You Ditch Me
Zindagi Bhi Lele Yaar Kill Me
Bol Bol Why Did You Ditch Me Whore
Bol Bol Why Did You Ditch Me
Zindagi Bhi Lele Yaar Kill Me
Jao Pia Jao Pia Jao Pia
Tauba Tera Jalwa, Tauba Tera Pyar
Tera Emosanal Attyachaar!
Tauba Tera Jalwa, Tauba Tera Pyar
Tera Emosanal Attyachaar!
Jao Jao Oh Dilbar, Oh Dilbar Ohh!
Tauba Tera Jalwa, Tauba Tera Pyar
Tera Emosanal Attyachaar!
(Tera Emosanal Attyachaar!) -

P.S: Courtesy :

Thursday, 22 January 2009


Once again today that topic came and stood in front of me. My father had casually inquired of a broker about a flat in heart of cantonment- Pune camp where muslims,hindus, parsis and christians stay together and head towards one and the only Kayani bakery.Yes, in the same 'cosmopolitan' Camp,those building residents didn't want the flat to be sold to a Muslim.

Now ,I wish i could say this is the direct fallout of 'bad bad terrorist Muslims' but it isn't. Whenever i visited the old Pune city ,all i could see is Maharashtrians[Indian Hindus} in majority - the Peths[barring a couple},the new Pune areas like Kothrud [the earliest fastest developing suburb} and newer suburbs like Aundh,Baner and hitherto areas.
Me, the eternal dumbo thought that it was because new people did not settle in these areas because they were already densely populated.
Many people whispered that Hindus don't give houses to Muslims but i did not believe it.
I faced it first hand when i took up a job in Powai and poor me couldn't get a rented flat because i was Muslim . I could not even camouflage myself or my name to get accommodation. It was right there. i had to leave the job because i didn't get a place to live and because i didn't want to live like a rat in some hole in Mumbai. The point is i didn't get a place to live which i liked just because i am 'so and so'

Now that officially as democratic secular Indians we already follow this caste bias system, i propose we legislate it. Put up a bill in Parliament where politicians can debate till hoary and then declare that Hindus will not rent/sell flats/property to Muslims. We have been following this practice already since time immemorial, if it is legislated Muslims can stand together and proclaim that Indian Muslims will not sell/rent to Indian hindus and neither buy from them .Buy/hire from parsis, Christians,Atheists but not Indian Hindus.
If its legislated then I as an Indian Muslim will not feel discriminated and i also get a licence to discriminate. As you may have noticed I've addressed my fellow Indians as Indian Hindus- well, that's because I feel its as appropriate as say 'Indian Muslims'.

Ring Ring Ringa Ringa Ringa Re

Wednesday, 21 January 2009

Cheshire Cat

I read Alice in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll when I was all grown up and after I came to know that it was touted as an example in logical reasoning and analytical thinking.
Apart from its lyrical prose , i love all the characters and my favorite is Cheshire cat. I don't like cats but this one i love since its personified human. What can be more human then a grinning charming Cheshire cat with a wit to match .It reminds me of eternal charming villain who is hidden within a cloak of charm and an halting wide smile.
Here's and excerpt which is symbolic ,metaphorical and my favorite.
I quote:

'Cheshire Puss,' she began, rather timidly, as she did not at all know whether it would like the name: however, it only grinned a little wider. 'Come, it's pleased so far,' thought Alice, and she went on. 'Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?'
'That depends a good deal on where you want to get to,' said the Cat.
'I don't much care where--' said Alice.
'Then it doesn't matter which way you go,' said the Cat.
'--so long as I get somewhere,' Alice added as an explanation.
'Oh, you're sure to do that,' said the Cat, 'if you only walk long enough.'
Alice felt that this could not be denied, so she tried another question. 'What sort of people live about here?'
'In that direction,' the Cat said, waving its right paw round, 'lives a Hatter: and in that direction,' waving the other paw, 'lives a March Hare. Visit either you like: they're both mad.'
'But I don't want to go among mad people,' Alice remarked.
'Oh, you can't help that,' said the Cat: 'we're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad.'
'How do you know I'm mad?' said Alice.
'You must be,' said the Cat, 'or you wouldn't have come here.'

Monday, 19 January 2009

Catching up

I recently caught up with a school friend who is all grown up with one toddler and a seven month old. To be outright she's not very good at keeping touch which is absolutely fine except that when i met her after so many years she invaded my privacy with very intimate profiling on why I was still not married.

Let me state , I'm not unmarried by choice and i'm growing tired of my relatives and friends trying to openly or surreptitiously probe my single status.Give me a break- I'm still young !

Anyway, i went to meet her out of nostalgia.I was happy to see her parents who i had not seen in last 13yrs or so. Everything was fine for the first 15 mins with pleasantries exchanged and nostalgia revisited. Then, her parents commented on my choice of study- Microbiology, stating it was no good and implying that's why i was unemployed. I tried to wedge in saying it is true .In my mind however I thought that's firmly in the past. Everyone cannot be engineers and certainly everyone doesn't want to be one !

Then they commented on how i looked plumper than before . I was quite ok with that observation. However her father firmly stated that 'don't be fatter than this otherwise getting a guy will be difficult ! And then added: 'Do you go for walks?'

i didn't know what to do except nod stupidly and trying to laugh it off.
The next missive came when my friend sympathized with my inability to have found a husband and consoled me saying that it was ok ,I'd soon find a guy !
Then she told me how her mother compared her with me saying I was so pretty and such a fantastic girl that i should have gotten married earlier than her [my friend].
A whole one hour passed : me trying to maintain my composure and playing with the toddler. The final straw came when her husband called form Dhoobai (Dubai). He's gone there to make petro dollars like most Mallus ! My friend to sound helpful and concerned immediately asked her husband to look for some Bohri Muslims in Dhoobai for me.

I took their leave and ambled home. I didn't know how to look at this particular meeting . i found it extremely funny at first then it dawned to me that the whole meeting was probably an exercise in pity and to examine me. I guess , i felt this way mainly because i was meeting my friend after 6 years and had lost touch in between those years. There was no connection. Or the connection would have been restored gradually however certainly not at the very first meeting. The fact is we were different people than say ten years ago so probing which i'm told is 'uniquely indian' was disenchanting.

Ali and Sarah

I've gotten used to traveling alone. When i was a kid, I used to love traveling by train . Not anymore. The burgeoning crowds everywhere gets to me.Everywhere I turn and look around there seem to be zillion faces passing by and I seem to be literally dashing somebody or the other while i drag my luggage. My train to Bangalore stood there in an ominous line of blue. For the first time, I was travelling by AC coach. No big deal ,except , its middle of a pretty cold December ! I found my compartment and settled into my window seat. It was around 3pm and in few minutes the train would leave. I shivered while peering drowsily out of the glass covered window. Bored, I looked around and examined my fellow passengers .There was only a very old couple opposite to me,sitting cross legged and speaking a strange language.
The train is pretty empty , I mused. In India, there are very very rare days when you could find a train running relatively empty and the reason for an uncrowded train are usually dark and ominous .I racked my brain for one such reason, however none dawned to me !

Suddenly, I felt a pair of eyes looking at me .A tall broad shouldered man peered at me through his glasses while he removed the haversack from his shoulders. He slid his sack below the seat and sat down next to me unbuttoning his suede coat.

“ Gosh,..Made it”,he said ,apparently to me while I stared blankly at him for a second or two. The train slowly started to pull out of the station.
“Good ! The train is literally empty”, He exclaimed ,looking around satisfactorily .
I turned away however it began to dawn to me that he was no stranger. In fact, he seemed familiar. Nevertheless , I ignored him while he shuffled in his seat ,removing a magazine from his satchel ,cleared his throat loudly.
“Where are you of to ?”
I turned towards him and asked ,”I beg your pardon !”
He gave me an impish smile and repeated” Where are you going?”
“Bangalore”, I replied.
“Oh great ! Me too”, he gushed warmly.
I tried to smile weakly at his response.Cautiously, I asked,”Do we know each other ?”
He stared at me for a moment and pursed his lips." Ah, you don't remember me ? No problem, ...well, I had hoped you would but since you don't, name is Ali. I had come to your place exactly 2 years ago with an aunty who does matchmaking,- umm.., I've forgotten her name.I had come to see you and you refused me !
He said all that in a single breath,taking me totally by surprise. I felt colour rising to my cheeks while i jogged my memory. I looked around, hoping no one had heard him since we were talking in English.

Screwing my eyes, I looked at him and then I remembered him. It was weird. Almost immediately, I began to remember the sober meeting. It was the usual meeting which happens in arranged marriages. I didn't remember the details but I remembered why i had refused him.Usually,I forget names,phone numbers, birthdays,errands but remember faces,incidents - both happy and tragic very clearly, especially if reminded about them.

The train was well on its way. He looked at me again and asked,”By the way, I am going to Bangalore to speak about my invention. I made a contraption. Do you remember ? I'm a mechanical engineer.

I smiled weakly at him and mumbled,”Sounds interesting !”
He removed India Today from his satchel and turned the pages rapidly. After a sketchy perusal , he looked at me and asked.” How about you ? Why are you going to Bangalore?”

I didn't wish to speak to him anymore. I secretly wished I could disappear. Twenty two hours of train journey with him next to me scared me out of my wits. I put on my best 'serious cum unfriendly ' face and answered,” A trip. My sister lives there".

He nodded his head and fumbled through the magazine as if trying to formulate his thoughts.
“By the way, why did you refuse ?”

It was a shocker.I consider myself a straightforward person but asking such a question point blank after two years is something even I wouldn't do.I put up a straight face and turned to gaze at the passing farms and green fields.

“ I'm just asking”,he shrugged his shoulders and continued,” in these kinds of marriage meets,no one gives any know,..the reasons which accompany a no is really bullshit.”
I looked at him and said,”I know.. all the same ,how does it matter ?”
His dark brown eyes bored through his glasses at me and cried,” Arrey! How come it doesn't matter? After I met you, I started making plans. ... I never had made those kinds of plans earlier. I mean, i hadn't met any girl which forced me to make plans. In my head, you know.”

By now I had gotten used to the fact that there was no escaping this man and this steady one sided conversation. I'd probably have to jump out of the moving train and I think he might probably jump after me to seek his answers.
I looked at him. He hadn't really changed much. I had put on weight while he was still dark,curly haired,with pointedly prominent nose and white teeth.He was the only guy I had seen who was same age as me and taller than me.
I felt a sudden wave of anger rising within me.How did he dare to get so comfortable to ask me to clarify my refusal.

“Plans !”, I shrieked,”what do you mean by 'plans'?
“ You know, the same as any other guy.”
“Huh,”..I exclaimed ,taken totally by surprise,” You know, this is the reason. You are weird.Incomprehensibly weird ! Since you remember so much, you might also remember how you barely talked and just kept looking at me through out that 15 minute meeting.You expected me to say yes ? ...besides you were a divorcee .I had decided i wouldn't meet divorcees till I was 30 and above.

He looked at me ,unabashedly, raising his eyebrows and throwing up his hands.
“That's it ! That's why you said no ?...seriously, what did you want me to do ? I don't talk with girls much especially if i have gone to see them for marriage, you know. I don't have many girls in my company's factory unit. I didn't lie........hmm.umm......I'm talking right now because its just you and me here and come to think of it this is our second meeting.”
I was ready to pull out my hair. Instead, I stared out of the window and contemplated ways in which i can shut him up.
“And as far as my divorce is concerned, I had told you, na,....I had married when i was 25 .I barely knew her.Within a week, we both realized it was a ghastly tell you the truth ,”his voice turned into a whisper and his face came closer ,literally touching my nose,”You know...umm we didn't , know,...not even close.We got divorced within a month.I made the mistake of listening to my mum.I never made that mistake again. I've taken it upon myself to find the girl I like,you know. I also realized that i'd feel 'in my bones' ,you know, if i like anyone.I hope you understand what i am saying.”

“Frankly, I don't give a damn”, I said in Rhett Butlerish style and pushed him away.
He picked up the magazine and shifted a bit further down the seat,away from me.
He removed an Ipod from his satchel and plugged the earphones to his ears.For some time ,there was appreciable silence. I looked at the old couple across us ,both immersed in reading newspapers.
Day turned into dusk and as the sun set, pheriwalas increased in number. The catering staff came around to take orders for dinner. I seem to always puke at the sight of food served in such trains so as a regular indian i had packed my dinner.
After 20 minutes or so, Ali removed his earphones and stuffed them in his pocket. I had cooled down and felt bad about being so dismissive and unnerved. I could have tackled his unjudicious chatter more calmly.Instead, I over reacted ,quite unnecessarily.

He offered me a chocolate bar and I hesitantly took it. I removed the wrapping little by little as i ate while he tore the wrapping completely and finished the chocolate in two bites.
“Do you have a tissue? “ he asked ,examining his fingers. I threw the small tissue box at him.
“You know, you are a smart and intelligent girl.You are pretty too. But you are not sensible !“
I understood what he meant by it.If he had said it 5 years ago, I'd have probably choked him to death.He looked at me, unsure of my reaction.
“I know”, I simply added to his silent observation of me, then glared at him ”and you are still looking me up – up and down !”

Startled, to mollify me, he added ,”Its ok to not be sensible all the time.After all, who is ?"

He sat cross legged on the seat to face me and he asked suspiciously,”Have you been terribly hurt or you are normally grouchy ?"
It was my turn to be startled. I avoided his gaze and stared straight to the berth opposite to me.
“I was. Is it obvious?"
“No, no you hide it very well.Except the eyes , know. They tend to give one away !"
"The world would be an enlightened place if people could decode eyes ”, I murmured sarcastically.
“True, true!” he smiled .
“The plans,...after meeting you, I had made up my mind, you know, ......I've broad shoulders and you cry a lot and very easily because you are sensitive. I had made plans to keep you happy and away from hurtful stuff . I had thought,........we would have made a great partnership, ...and besides i wondered how it would be to make love to you !"

I threw the styrofoam cup with water at him.

Needless to say , till we retired to sleep we didn't argue . We exchanged news and views and what had changed in our lives .He told me about his extended family and that his mom was no more.He talked about his work and how he invented things in his free time.His life was ,as I had imagined, predictable and boring except that he made new things in his free time.The last movie he had seen in the theater was American Beauty and he pretty much shopped for his clothes from one store in whole of Pune.
By the next morning, we were more or less friends. The train was estimated to reach Bangalore at noon. We ate idlis and vadas at a station, mostly because i like idlis .As for him,he embarked on a tour of the platform for a decent egg omellette and when he didn't find any- settled for a vada grudgingly.

When the train screeched to a halt at the station in Bangalore, he threw his hands in the air and said,
“Ok, here we are ! Your sister is coming to pick you up ?”
“Yeah” I replied ,counting my bags,” here is your magazine."
“Oh yeah, the way,I'm put up at Leela ,..I'll probably fly back if i get the tickets.”
“Ok, ...there,..... best of luck ,”I said smiling at him and shaking his proffered hand.
“Thank you , Sarah .”

Quietly, we got down from the train and stood on the platform. My sister had not arrived as yet so i stood waiting for her.
He pulled up the haversack on his shoulders and said,” Here is your tissue box. It has only a single tissue”, he said pointedly.
“No problem”, I replied.
He looked at me for a minute and then said,” Didn't you think it was too much of a co-incidence that we had seats next to each other?”
“As a matter of fact , I did."
“ I'm glad that seat didn't belong to anyone so happened that I saw you at the platform near AC2 in pune. I called out to you but you didn't hear me. So I ran after you, and scrambled in the seat next to you,” he beamed at me, with smiling cheek to cheek. He hesitantly picked up his suitcase and wished me goodbye.”Bye ,Sarah”
“Bye Ali”.
As he walked away, I looked at his departing figure."Weirdo”,I muttered to myself.

I examined the empty tissue box and removed the lone tissue and threw away the box. As i opened the tissue to wipe my face , I spied a 10 digit number scrawled across it in bold dark ink. I stared at the phone number and laughed till tears struck my eyes. The only thought that crossed my mind was : Will he find my number in the magazine as easily as i had found his ? After all, I could have easily thrown off the tissue box without as much a second glance at the tissue.


Saturday, 17 January 2009

Qaasid ke aatey aatey

Qaasid ke aate-aate KHat ik aur likh rakhooN maiN jaanta hooN jo woh likhenge jawaab meiN

kab se hooN, kya bataaooN jahaan-e-KHaraab meiN ? shab haaye hijr ko bhee rakhooN gar hisaab meiN

taa fir na intezaar meiN neeNd aaye 'umr bhar aane ka 'ahad kar gaye aaye jo KHwaab meiN

mujh tak kab unkee bazm meiN aata tha daur-e-jaam saaqee ne kuchch mila na diya ho sharaab meiN

GHalib' chutee sharaab, par ab bhee kabhee-kabhee peeta hooN roz-e-abr -o- shab-e-maahtaab meiN

kab se hooN, kya bataaooN jahaan-e-KHaraab meiN , shab haaye hijr ko bhee rakhooN gar hisaab mein

- Mirza Ghalib

{ My apologies for not writing this in Urdu/Persian script as I don't know them}

Smashing Slumdog

Even as i'm penning this ,I'm listening to O Saya from Slumdog Millionaire. Each song is unique ,pulsating,touching,energetic . And if any one wants to learn the meaning of inspiration/adaptation its right there in Ringa ringa . What a superb adaptation of Choli ke peeche kya hai !

As a true blue indian would say, paisa vasool !

Deewana tera

Yesterday when i heard Deewana tera by Sonu Nigam after a long time i realized Deewana by Sonu Nigam is the only album where i loved each track.
Otherwise buying an album for one outstanding song feels more like an let down.
I seem to be drawn towards singers and tracks which has a sufiyana andaz. The last outstanding song- lyrics,composition and singer which i remember is Maula mere maula.

Wednesday, 14 January 2009

Me and my neighbour!

Me: [flustered with tragedy and livid with anger] : Last night, your dog and cat entered my patch through that bloody broken fence ,which by the way was broken by your enterprising son and ate up my white mice and love birds.
Neighbor: [quiet,extremely alert ]: I beg your pardon ! How is that possible? My tomcat Freddy and Labrador Bosco were on leash the entire night ! Its just not possible !
Me: [cried vehemently] : Oh it is ,it is. I've feathers and bones of 5 mice and 4 lovebirds to prove it.Look there, beside that bougainvillea, I've laid them out for you to see. Do you still refuse to acknowledge it ?
Neighbor: My good lady, i'm very sorry for this tragic incident which happened in your garden. Let me also add,this is something which could've happened to anyone and anywhere. We live in a world full of violence and are attacked by terrorism from all sides.
Me: Oh yes, who knows that better than me ! From last 60 years since you moved here, something or the other has kept creeping up to my house and beset me with million headaches.
Neighbor: Oh, I do know you have been fighting intruders of all kind.I've been fighting some of that ilk in my backyard too.
Me: Oh yes you have been fighting them only now! If i remember clearly didn't you at one point of time had a fetish for all kinds of wild cats and dogs. Why, you had started a sanctuary of sorts for them !
Neighbor: Come, come ,Let's not get into the past now. I'm sure its one those wild dogs which have entered your patch yesterday night and attacked your pets !
Me: [shouting very loud and clear] Oh no no. You have been saying that for years now ! It was not 'some' wild dog or cat.They were yours - your very own pets !
Neighbor: [soothingly]:Now, now,let's not jump to any conclusions here. We don't want to create a war hysteria now,do we ?.....Ok, do tell me. WHat evidence do you have that my dog and cat ate up your mice and birds ?

Me: [snorting] Evidence ! ...[rushing towards the bushes]....[i drag the tomcat by its tail,literally] here is the damned evidence. This tomcat belongs to you ,doesn't it ?
Neighbour: [examining the cat nonchalantly]: Oh its the same colour ,....hmm ,....however i think its a tad small !

Me:[glaring at him]: you really are too trifle with this whole matter,aren't you ? It doesn't matter to you at all that my mice and birds are gone,right ?

Neighbour: Where's the evidence? All I ask of you is to send me some evidence.
Me: [holding out the cat] what is this then ? Isn't this evidence enough ?
Neighbour: Why don't you send over the evidence you have collected about this incident to my house. I promise i'll take prompt action.

And so it continued. Somewhere at the bottom of my heart it rankled me - wasn't this situation quite similar to something going on already nowadays. The push and pull. The pull and push .A sordid merry go a-round !

Saturday, 10 January 2009


I'm very tolerant of ads on TV. Hell, I even like some of them . However, nowadays, there seem to be ads which are patronizing about women,children and some are incredibly stupid.
The Bournville ad is one such. What a tag line ! I quote: ' You don't buy a Bournville, you earn it !'
As if i don't have enough things to earn in this world:
  1. One has to most definitely earn trust ! And even after khoon pasina, you can most definitely fail at it !
  2. one has to earn money - a living.
  3. One has to earn a good reputation.
Which loser in this world is going to earn a goddamn chocolate after all this !
Why the hell do ordinary people like me slave to earn money ?

Friday, 2 January 2009


Moharram is the name of the first month according to Hijri calendar. The first 10 days of Moharram are marked by grief and mourning. On the 10th day of Moharram Imam Husain was slain in the battle of Karbala [Iraq]. Today is 6th of Moharram according to our Dawoodi Bohra hijri calendar.

Every year scores of Shia Muslims mourn and remember the battle of Karbala and how cruelly and mercilessly Ahle-e-bait was killed.
In my opinion, that was Jihad and not what those sucide bombers and twenty something misguided youth do !
Imam Husein refused allegiance to Yazid [Laanat] who called him to Karbala by farce. After a long journey through the desert ,his children were thirsty as well as the women and the men. Yazid sealed the river Euphrates and prevented Imam Hussein and his family from drinking water.
Thus the severe atrocities took inhumane turn where animals could drink water but not women children and men of Imam Hussein's camp.
On the 10th day of moharram, all His men were killed and only Imam Husein was left. He valiantly left for battle, thirsty and hungry, for the supreme sacrifice. He chose death over submitting himself to a cruel ,greedy Yazid.
Imam Husein ,son of
Ali Bin Abi Talib and Fatema, gave up his life to protect ideals of Islam.
How can Islam be a religion that preaches hate when grandson of Prophet Mohammad gave his life and those of his kin to protect its ideals?

P.S: I've tried describing this piece of iconic history in English - a language highly unsuitable to recount Imam Husein's shahadat. There is one very true article which i found on the web for those who would like more details :
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