Forever Incomplete

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

Nothing new here... The same sentiments have since been observed, realized, and written. But perhaps variance in articulations will inspire strength... and change.

I can hear the unexpected sound of rain upon rooftops. Their pitter-pattering forms a lullaby as souls move freely and bodies enter the realm of silent sleep. I wish to be among them, but the rain rarely sings me to sleep. She usually awakens me and begs from me a thought or two. Why are you as you are? What is your world all about? Are you ready for your end?

I fail in my answers tonight. I know very well that I hold an unruly amount of shawq for that which concerns this world. I didn't ask for it, and yet for many reasons I consider it a gift. Regardless that my longing is for something that is grand it in its own right (at least in my opinion, but this could be the point of error), it's not for me and it's not my place to want for myself other than what my Lord wants for me. So I ask myself, what does my Lord want of me? What should I be doing? Where should I turn my heart and how? Is anything of this world supposed to serve as a cushion during these aspirations? I try to test myself to see if my heartfelt inclinations are at all legit, but I never really know the truth of them. I have no certain resolution regarding them.

Instead I try to focus on what I do know. There is door is in front of me, and whether I want to or not, I have to open it, and I have to enter through it. I want be eager to do so because this door was put in front of me by Allah, and I should be grateful. I am. I don't want to use the word "but" now, though it is the only word that fits the sentence. But something is missing. This entryway is a trifle, in my opinion. Do what needs to be done and then close it and move on to that which is food for the soul. That which is a struggle in an envelope of sakinah or tranquillity. I'm not seeking ease or ideals since my life is already no one's definition of ideal, but I seek peace and purpose and the confidence to know that my aspirations and efforts are worthwhile and not found to be burdensome on the day when we will see the true weightings of what we're engaged in.

From this depth, one would naturally advise having a great concern for one's intentions. They need to be guarded, rectified, and refreshed repeatedly. But there is still a missing link. I now know its name but I won't name it here right now. First I must learn its true value and then I must be convinced that if it was from among my needs, truly, then it would be provided for me. As it stands now, relief is far because the difficulty of the situation is embedded in my thoughts and are being transferred to my heart. This is the result of weakness and lowliness.

And from where shall there be strength? Well, now this is all sounding quite cyclical. Did the chicken come first or the egg?

What is it that we want from our lives and this world?

Written on December 6, 2011

Random Pauses

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

It's like an encompassing gaseous cloud. Embedded within the cloud are experiences of all sorts including delightful, challenging, terrifying, and neutral experiences. Those who enter this cloud soon forget that it is a mere cloud. The availability of varied and seemingly infinite experiences causes them to delve from one endeavour to the next. But sometimes, if we are so fortunate, we come across some segments that are free or sparsely filled with either invitations to experience or with evidence of negligence. These are where jewels are born and maintained. These are rare pockets that must be sought and cherished.

February 22, 2011

***

How freely we throw around words, labels, and names. Calling one this and one that, defining them by choices in letter arrangements. Friend or foe, but one syllable yet a world of difference. Is "human" not a sufficient compromise?


September 13, 2011

***

What does it mean to have a home? It is a place of sakinah that is very easy to take for granted. A home is not only a roof over one's head nor is it only a table laden with familiar foods, but rather it is a place of comfort. It is where strangeness escapes and hearts settle. It's where one's mask to world rests and one's heart eases. Homelessness, as I'm framing it now, is not the absence of necessities as much as it is the absence of sakinah.

May 7, 2012

***

A woman might look at her beauty as a thing of her own accord, her personal quality to boast about, and yet she had no choice in the matter. Neither in the shape of her face nor in the ovals of her eyes. Her choices of adornment, though her own, are meager efforts to flaunt her beauty. Her character, however, is something that she governs, and only in its expression can we find the strength of her being and the value of her self-mastery.

July 22, 2012

A Glass of Water

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

Now we share the same bright sun, the same round moon, why don't we share the same love? Tell me why not. Life is shorter than most had thought. Hold my hand..."
- Maher Zain
Written on May 22, 2008

Last night, as I drifted off to sleep, I was thinking about my life over the last year compared to the life that I’ve known for most of my years and which I’ve returned to now. SubhanAllah. I often think of the differences…

“Which is it of the favours of your Lord that you deny?”
- Al Quraan – Chapter 55- Ar Rahman

My thoughts…

As I went to bed last night, I was cold, and I was ever-grateful for comforter that kept me warm. I remembered one night while I lived in a boarding school this past winter when I felt almost unbearably cold. In those days, my immune system was unusually weak, and I fell ill for the second time in that month leaving me with severe chills followed by fever. I didn’t have enough energy to leave my room to ask anyone for an extra blanket and my roommate was out of sight, so I wore the warmest clothes I could including socks and black gloves meant to be worn by women who observe niqab, and I crawled into my sleeping bag hoping to warm up.

A few months prior to that, when I lived in an apartment, I returned home wet from the rain. I’m not sure if at that time I had a hot-water tank in my bathroom yet, but if I wanted a hot shower, I would have to turn it on and wait at least half an hour before I could expect to have hot water. I had no stove, and any thought of having a nice warm mug of milk was out of question. But at least I had a sweater, and in that I found my comfort.

There are so many things that I enjoy at home that I can easily take for granted. Take, for instance, drinking water. Over the last year, I avoided drinking tap water for about six months until I entered a boarding school. The tap water that is at the school comes from a well and has a high content of minerals making it faintly yellow. A lot of my fellow housemates drank the tap water, so I figured I would do the same until given a reason to do otherwise. And besides that, there were some taps with chilled water, specifically for drinking, and I prefer chilled drinking water (or at least I used to until I learnt to do without it). I was fine drinking tap water for the first two months, after which my body outright rejected any amount of that water. My next best option was to buy distilled water, but due to some miscommunication, my jug of water took two months to get to me as opposed to the usual three-day wait. I learnt the value of clean drinking water at the time by knowing that I couldn’t open the tap and take a drink despite my thirst and how much I longed for a bit of water. In Allah’s beautiful way, He taught me the value of drinking water among many other things.

.....More thoughts for the days ahead of me, insha’Allah.

I then wondered why it is that as privileged people of the world, we tend to look at these luxuries at ‘entitlements’ while many other people in the world live without them. If we don’t have these basic things, then it’s a breach of our human rights, right? What about the people in Palestine? Don’t they have rights? Or how about in Iraq? Or Sudan? Or Kashmir? Name any place, and at least recognize that what we have is not our right because if it were, we would be damn sure to work towards establishing the basic rights of others, right?

Last night, as I wondered about the ways of this world I decided that our position of privilege leaves us in a position of responsibility, and responsibility leaves us in a position of accountability. Accountable to who? Well, I'm sure you're smart enough to figure it out...

And when you do figure it out, attempt to do something about it, and please invite me to join you because I’m still trying to figure out what it is that I need to do.

May the Almighty guide us all, fill our hearts with love of Him and His Habib, peace be upon him, and let our hands begin and continuously remain in work that is pleasing to Him, ameen.

Pray for me please.

To Care

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

Above all, I'm indebted to her for her friendship. In all honesty, I don't think she'll ever consider me a true friend to her, but in a time when we were both far removed from friends and family, we spent much of our time together. We were classmates, housemates, and travel companions whenever possible. I do wish that I am able to write about our time together, but all my attempts thus far have come to naught.

There was one occasion, during our walk home, when she picked a flower for me from a blanket of purple flowers that adorned the side of the street. Though my heart sank at the thought that I would soon witness the flower's demise, I carried it carefully as we continued our walk. It was a beautiful flower that I treasured very much. [Hmmm...It seems a peculiar repeat that I'm enchanted by one flower that is picked on impulse by a friend made in foreign lands.]

I kept the flower on my bedside table without water or any particular comfort except for my occasional attention. It survived, quite surprisingly, for at least eight days after which I placed it in a flower bed to breath its last. My friend was slightly amused by my care for the flower's end, and in fact expected it to have wilted before arriving home the day she picked it. Such was the fate of flowers of the same type that she had picked previously.

As I reflect on the life of an endearing flower, I consider the impact that care plays in the lives of all living organisms. Flowers require sun and rain to survive. We require food, water, and shelter. But that does not, in the least, optimize our existence. They are the incumbents, or the faraidh if I can say. I don't believe that we were created for only that, the bare minimum. Beyond the essentials, we beautify our existence by acts of goodness, much like the sunan, and through them Allah favours us with His graces as He wills.

If this world and all its inhabitants can be likened to a flower-filled garden, how might it look?

اللهم اهدنا الصراط المستقيم... آمين