Darkness

BismiLlahir Rahmanir Rahim

It was a windy and stormy night. I shuddered at the intensity of the night's thunder as I focused intensely on the road ahead of me. I'm not sure what exactly happened next, though I remember hearing the gratingly loud and irksome noise of metal crushing.

Shortly after, the sound of relentlessly loud honking filled my ears. I hoped it would stop soon as it was a merciless sound, but I soon realized that it was on account of my head resting on the steering wheel. I guess the airbag didn't activate. I tried to lift my head, now a dead weight, but I couldn't. I had no more control over my body.

I was in my final moments, and I realized that the Angel of Death was soon on his way to meet me. I was alone in a car far from anyone who normally offered me comfort. Panic started to set in as the reality of my situation became clear. Distress overtook me, and I wished there was someone nearby to read tasbih or Ya-Sin to lessen the pain in the process of my spirit's departure from my body.

It was the only moment of truth I would have in my life, and I continued to tremble at the thought of its approach. Tears flowed from my eyes, accompanied by ragged and terrified breathing. I tried to say the shahadah, and though it left my lips once, they were not my last words as I begged for God's forgiveness.

My fear was overwhelming, and I counselled myself to have a good opinion of my Lord, as He, the Exalted says, "I am as my servant thinks Me to be, and I am with him when he remembers Me." [Hadith] I tried to remind myself about a man's response when asked about his state as he lay on his deathbed. "Hoping in my Lord and fearful of my sins," he said. One then declared, "Never do these two things unite in the heart of a Muslim, in such a situation as this, but that God grants him what he hopes for, and gives him safekeeping from what he fears."

I opened my eyes and found myself alone looking at the ceiling of my bedroom, the experience evidenced by my tears.

I suppose all I had was a taste of what awaits me, and in God's great generosity, He allows me to live longer so that perhaps when the inevitable time comes for me to meet with the Angel of Death I may be better prepared.

Ya Rab, the veils of deception in this world are too great for me. I have nothing to hang onto except what You favour me with. Ya Allah, take us back to You in the best of states, let us meet You with a smile, and let our lives not be in vain. To You we submit, and from You alone we seek help. Let the purpose of our lives reflect in our actions, and protect us from wronging the bodies and souls with which you've blessed us. Ameen.

الله معي, الله شاهدي, الله حاضري, الله ناظري, الله قريب مني

Jokes! Or Not.

BismiLlahir Rahmanir Rahim

By God's grace, I have the right to be called khala, a very honourable term in my humble opinion. Khala refers to one's mother's sister, who, ideally, is the next best thing to a mother (likewise, a father's brother is ideally the next best thing to a father). I try to teach the little people who call me khala tidbits of useful things when I can, one of which is that we can't be silly in three situations: praying, eating, and studying. Everything else is free game for silliness, and I'll gladly join them in that.

I suppose I've simplified the world by limiting seriousness to those three domains, but I think if most children practiced that, they would be well on their way to learning what it means to be a well-mannered individual, God willing. Perhaps I'm mistaken, and only hope that should I ever be blessed with the responsibility of caring for children, I'll be enlightened as to how to raise them decently.

As for adults, I think we need to broaden our horizons and think deeper about seriousness and jokes. My words here are primarily for myself, though this reflective piece has been inspired by some people's use of the term "fob" (an acronym for "fresh off the boat") or other derivatives of the word such as "fobbish" all of which I cannot tolerate as I consider them condescending, demeaning, and bereft of any useful place. I realize that this word is often used lightly without much consideration of its implications, but we cannot afford to be blind to what we say of others and its effects.

Let's consider one simply profound aspect of the character of our beloved Prophet Muhammad, peace and blessing be upon him, his family, and his companions. It is said that he (peace be upon him) was seen by the people as one who was at ease, free of worries, and with a cheerful disposition. However, we know that there were many things that weighed on him. I consider his cheerful disposition the fruits of his dependence on his Lord and his desire to create a comfortable environment for the people where they could feel less burdened by the world around them. It is from him, upon whom be peace, that we learn that a simple smile is considered an act of charity, given its positive effects on others.

Interestingly, Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him), was not known to laugh much. As he is reported to have said, "By God, if you knew what I know, you would weep much and laugh little." Habib Husayn As Saqqaf explained that laughter is a characteristic of those who are heedless (al ghaafileen wa al baatileen).

For those of us who laugh easily, I imagine our sense of humour and the things within which we find humour all need to be reassessed with deeper insights.

And for those of us with serious dispositions, I imagine our sense of seriousness needs to be considered in light of how it may affect those around us and whether these effects are beneficial or not.

One cannot expect to find perfection amongst humans as it is a quality of the Creator and only reflected in creation as He wills. But ill-mannered, mean, regularly depressive, and hurtful behaviour towards creation does not befit the human spirit nor the human purpose.

And success is from God alone.

A Natural Spring

BismiLlahir Rahmanir Rahim

While running through the desolate valley desperately seeking that which would ultimately come from Him, the miraculous spring of Zam Zam began to flow providing relief from the difficulties that Hajar and her son Ismail faced in the barren desert.

Perhaps in our own simple ways we reflect this same desperate search, though our struggles manifest themselves in our hearts instead. We run from place to place hoping and praying that from the ultimate source we may receive some of His many favours which would quench our thirst and fulfill some of our more pressing spiritual needs.

And by His awe-inspiring generosity and grace, He sends us a cool drink that feeds the heart for a time. But there are conditions for one to sip of certain fountains, and sometimes, despite the sweetness of the drink, the conditions are not met. And where the conditions can't or won't be met, one must take only enough of a sip to gather one's strength, and then one must move on while depending entirely on Him for an alternative.

When such efforts are exerted for His sake, one can be sure that the benefits of that sweet spring, though a mere sip, will be prolonged. Such is His generosity and grace.

O Lord, we turn to You alone. Let us taste of that which you sanctify for us and give us the strength to utilize Your blessings in service of You. Ya Rab, You are the Provider, the Sustainer, and the Source of all, forsake us not in the isolated valleys of our hearts, and send us the sustenance we need to proceed securely in our journey to You, ameen.

Inhaling Reality

In the Name of God, The Beneficent, The Most Merciful

All praises belongs to Allah, the Lord and Sustainer of the Heavens and Earth and all that exists, He whose guidance we depend on, and upon whom we are all entirely dependent. May His peace be upon our beloved Prophet Muhammad and his family and companions.

The time has come, yet again, for me to discontinue writing here for some time best known to God. I am not travelling as I was the last time I paused this effort, nor am I attempting to pursue anything other than what most deem necessarily essential.

I fear that my words here may paint a picture that is not true of me or of the realities I attempt to discuss. I often speak of ideals, and though I attempt to make practical connections, I often fail. Such is the story of my life, and it shall remain as such unless I do something about it.

There are some who may read my words here and consider me pretentious, and perhaps they may be correct in their assessment. I do not want my words to come back to me, stare me in the face, and demand my response. I don't have the strength to face them in such a manner.

There are a lot of things that I have written here, in 112 posts over the past two and half years, but I must ask myself what my words have amounted to and where I am really going.

Travelling overseas to study (though half the time I wasn't studying), in my opinion, is not praiseworthy in and of itself. Our knowledge is only as good as what we act upon. And while I can claim ignorance in traditional knowledge, I cannot deny the life lessons that God has brought my way before, during, and after my travels and throughout my life.

Every breath is taking me closer to my grave, and if my words on this blog is all that speaks of my life, then I am in serious trouble.

It is time I turn to my Lord and beg His forgiveness for my mistakes, for my erroneous confidence in my misguided words, and for my many other shortcomings of which He is aware.

Those who have taken the time to read my ramblings here, forgive me for any wrong I may have caused you. I respect you, as silent as you are, knowing that we are travelling similar paths. I respect you for your character, humility, and your adab as you trek through this life, and I hope that perhaps I can share the same characteristics in my life at some point, insha'Allah.

May God grant the believers strength in their faith. May He guide those who are in earnest search of Him and His guidance. May the Almighty guide us to be only with those who help us through our journeys, and may He protect us from all that which distract us from making sincere efforts toward the ultimate goal of our existence. May He bless us all with a good ending, and take us back to Him in the best of states. May our return to Him be filled with a heavenly sweetness, and may His peace and blessings be upon His beloved, our Master Muhammad, and his family and companions, ameen.

Removing the Silence on Domestic Violence

BismiLlahir Rahmanir Rahim

AlhamduliAllah, this video was recently e-mailed to me, for which I am very grateful. I think sermons such as this need to be in wide circulation because these issues need to be discussed and misconceptions need to be corrected.

I ask that you copy the link to this video on YouTube and e-mail it to all those you know, men and women alike, insha'Allah. Let not our silence contribute to the perpetuation of unacceptable practices.

Removing the Silence on Domestic Violence
- Shaykh Hamza Yusuf of Zaytuna Institute

God is My Sufficiency

BismiLlahir Rahmanir Rahim

This last year has been challenging for Habibah, but her hopes are still alive and her faith is still strong. Her voice is now reserved, and no longer can naivety be found in her words. Her laughter, though thankfully still present, is not laced with innocent play as it once used to be, and her now careful tone continuously references her admiral perseverance. Unlike many who have walked a similar path, she doesn't dwell too long speaking of her struggles but she speaks of improved circumstances and moving forward. Perhaps she doesn't wish to burden her listener who can't help but carry some of her pain. For those who knew her a year prior, her story is heart-breaking and her forced "maturity" is a heavy change.

Habibah is a strong individual, and with God's help she will get through this all and come out a better person because of it. As her optimism remains, so too must it remain for those who care for her and whose hearts feel her pain. Her losses have been great, but so too must be her returns, God willing.

I wish I could say that "Habibah" is a fictional character, but she is very much real. And while I know that she will never be the person that she was so many months ago, I am confident that God will help her through her trials and He will favour her with His generosity and grace.

However, I keep asking myself about the human hands who are responsible for harming her and stripping her of her dignity. I have tried to make excuses for them, a husband and a mother-in-law to her, but I seem not to get very far.

I used to think that a telling sign of a man's potential goodness and integrity with his future wife would be his relationship with his mother. I've been proven wrong. A man can adore his mother, and on account of that he can justify the ill and despicable treatment of his wife. A man can speak words as sweet as honey, filled with spiritual and religious references and wisdom, and yet his actions can be as cruel as the devil himself.

A man who has no consciousness and fear of his Lord is hardly a man. One who has no shame before his Creator is one not worthy of much respect, if any at all.

There are many women and some men who get into marriages, religiously sanctified unions, only to have their lives turn from reasonably pleasant to miserable. It's ironic given that a spouse, in essence, is meant to be a protective garment. It's sad, really, to see a potential protective covering turn out to be a vile poison.

Marriages and relationships are a trust, a sacred trust. God entrusts us with the care of one from amongst His creation, and when we harm that trust, we must ultimately be prepared to answer to Him. As for the one who has been harmed, it is only befitting that he keep a good opinion of His Lord and attempt to continue chugging through life as Habibah continues to do now.

I suppose I will never understand what it is that makes one abandon the beauty of moral and ethical consciousness for the sake of other wretched options. Sometimes I wonder who it is that we can really trust, and I then recognize that we cannot (totally) trust anyone except our Lord. He gives us guidelines to follow. He offers us His guidance. He invites us every day to call on Him, and He even designates a special portion of the night specifically for us saying, "Who will call on Me so that I may respond to him? Who is asking something of Me so I may give it to him? Who is asking for My forgiveness so I may forgive him?" As long as we hold onto these things, regardless of what may come our way, we know that He will take care of us and our success will be with Him, God willing.

God is sufficient for us, and He is the Best Disposer of affairs.

حَسْبُنَا اللهُ وَ نِعْمَ الْوَكِيْل

Thank You Allah

BismiLlahir Rahmanir Rahim

Then which of the favours of your Lord do you deny?
[Surah Ar Rahman]
Must something occur for a person to be happy? Must something change to incite happiness? Can happiness seemingly appear from thin air? It certainly can, but truly, joys are from none other than the One.

I am happy today, superbly happy, and my life hasn't changed in even the slightest way. But that's the thing, we need not wait for happiness. It's already with us. Right here.

Some will wait for acceptance letters or graduation notifications from educational institutions before they rejoice. Others may wait for the heart to flutter and an established betrothal before happiness hits its mark. And yet others may experience joy as they anticipate the birth of a child. All of these are joyful times, no doubt. But sometimes happiness takes nothing more than realizing that just being who we are at exactly this point in our lives is an amazing blessing.

So while I enjoy these moments of happiness, I invite you to do the same. As you sit there reading these words, know that you are privileged to read. Know that you are blessed to understand. Know that you are honoured to be you, alive and safe. And know that you are charged to express gratitude as you appreciate the favours that fill your world, all of which are generous gifts from your Lord to help you along this humble path called life.

May your smiles only bring more joy. May your gratitude inspire more hearts. May your actions touch the lives of others. May your happiness meet you at your destination.

Ameen.

Thank you Allah.

Update: 27-02-09

Abu Turāb (May Allah be well pleased with him) said, "O people, you love three things while they are not for you. You love the self, but it belongs to its desires. You love the life spirit, but it belongs to Allah. Finally, you love wealth, but it belongs to your inheritors. In addition, you seek two things [in the world] which you do not find: (1) rest and (2) happiness. These two things are only in Paradise."

Love is in the Air?

BismiLlahir Rahmanir Rahim

So it is Valentine's Day today (technically in a few minutes), a ridiculous holiday in my lowly estimation. Telling the one you love that you love him doesn't require a special day (everyday works pretty well I'd say), and while some might argue that this day isn't "required" to attest their love but rather "honours" their love, I say "each their own." I still consider it a commercialized and borderline superficial way to celebrate love. Again, each their own.

Now let's look at two classic romantic icons. Romeo and Qays (aka Majnoon - now that I have actually read the story *ahem*). Generally (or perhaps traditionally), romantic endeavours are initiated by men, so I won't consider their counterparts.

In the Western world, for reasons which I'm unsure of, Romeo is considered a romantic ideal. Yes, he goes to party (uninvited was it? tsk tsk), his gaze falls upon a young lady, and a few hours later he declares his complete love for her. Suffice to say, I entirely agree with my English teacher who commented that Romeo is shallow. But then again, given his beloved's responses, perhaps they were a perfect match.

Now Qays' situation was different. Crazy indeed, but at least his love was grounded in a personality that he was familiar with, a childhood friend. But still, his inability to put things into perspective (as they say "love is blind") caused him to sabotage any possibility of ever sanctifying his claim of love.

In both stories, the lovebirds never unite as husband and wife and instead they all end up dying as a result of their love sickness or their attempts to materialize their wishes.

A shaykh once mentioned that Qays' love was very real. Love is the strongest emotion that a human can experience, but as Shaykh Abdullah Al Haddad once reminded us, "Do not love the one who dies." Ya Rab! He was, of course, just making a point and not saying that one could not or should not love one who dies because as we know, the Prophet Muhammad (peace and blessings be upon him) loved his family and companions, among others. The shaykh continued to say that after Qays died, God forgave him, but preserved his story as a lesson for those who came after him. [I really have to verify this because I didn't realize that Qays and Layla's story was a true story. Nonetheless, point taken.]

One might call me cynical in my assessment of romantic stories or ideas, but unless one knows me personally this can't be easily verified. As far as I see it though, romantic love and today's western educational system are very much the same.

For some, the words "I love you" alone is sufficient proof of one's love, just as a piece of paper that declares one a graduate (and thus an expert) in a certain field is proof of one's knowledge. I, on the other hand, maintain the perspective that while these are necessary supporting indications of both love and knowledge, by themselves they can never be considered the real thing.

As a poet once said, "Knowledge without action is like a wick, it gives light to others but itself dies out burning." But love without sincere action cannot even be considered love.

For me to comment any further on romantic love is to manifest the blind leading the blind. But I will say, in closing, that there are already many illusions in the world today among which we need not include true love. Love, as I understand it, can only become real if people give it its worth by directing it to something greater than just one's worldly existence. And God knows best!

On a side note, I think one awesome act of love -among its plethora of other outstanding and praiseworthy characteristics- scheduled for today is Viva Palestina - a lifeline from Britain to Gaza, which iMuslimTV explains very nicely here. May God give them success, ameen!

May the Almighty fill this world with the power of love, and may He help us all realize the worth of love for His sake, ameen.

Khidma and Cake

BismiLlahir Rahmanir Rahim

"...she was telling me that Habib Umar said that there are three things that must always accompany a student: 1) a miswak, in adherence and love of the sunnah, 2) khidma, a service of any kind to anyone, 3) good use of one's time, including a wird."

Last year (1428/2007) I was blessed to spend Eid ul Adha while at a boarding school. It was an insightful experience, though I'd be lying if I said it wasn't also emotionally challenging knowing that my family was out of reach. An emotional moment aside, it was a happy and festive day and perfectly beautiful in its own right. Due to the kind efforts of others, my housemates and I were all served sweets as we enjoyed the morning together singing nasheeds and spending time with each other. In the evening, most had their own plans which varied from meeting their brothers who resided in the neighbouring men's boarding school to visiting family or friends in the community.

That night, I was invited to one sister's house where I enjoyed a barbecue along with other Western sisters. The next day we gathered again and spent the morning on a rooftop playing games, eating cake, sipping hot chocolate and other beverages while we enjoyed each other's company and sisterly advices. I don't think those blessed sisters will ever understand what their efforts that day meant to me. Suffice to say, it is in my collection of treasured memories.

It was probably a bad idea for me to have eaten cake after not having it for so many months because the next day I was craving some more. I went to the kitchen of the boarding school looking for the large tray of leftover cake that I had seen earlier. I searched the kitchen in vain, and eventually asked a sister who was washing dishes if there was any cake left. She said no. I smiled and told her I was wishing for some but it was okay that I didn't find any. She told me to hang on and went to the fridge, pulled out a cake, and cut a slice for me. I'm assuming it was the leftover cake from a private Eid celebration. I accepted her kind gesture graciously.

Interestingly, it was from that slight interaction that Allah united our hearts and we became friends. The cake had unfortunately absorbed the various smells of the industrial-size fridge, but given so open-heartedly, it was a priceless treat.

The next day, one of my housemates came to my room to tell me that a mushrifa (supervisor) was calling me. Uh oh, I thought. As I headed to her room, I wondered if I had done anything wrong. After knocking at her door, she asked me to come in, and then she said "I heard you like cake." I laughed (in admission of my guilt) and asked how she knew. She told me that "someone" told her, and then she handed me a bowl with two or three small pieces of cake that someone had put aside especially for her explaining that she isn't one for cake. I insisted that she keep it and eat it, but she insisted that I take it. Again, all I could do was accept her kind offer graciously.

I have countless memories of being the recipient of selflessness and sacrifice. SubhanAllah. Allah is very generous. Since even before my birth, by God's infinite grace, my family has served my needs and they have all since taught me valuable lessons which remain a constant service to me now.

Beyond family, there have been countless strangers or distant acquaintances who have offered many things my way: kind words, sincere smiles, prayers, unexpected gifts, advice, and even more recently an invaluable e-book.

As I think about the great kindness that I've been privileged to receive despite being unworthy, I'm reminded of a lesson that I took from another set of sisters who I befriended as I lived amongst them. From them, I experienced and witnessed constant giving. I had nothing to give to them in return except a pair of almost new shoes and a watch, one of which was received with tears. SubhanAllah. They asked nothing of me other than my prayers.

I reflected on their lives and how their acts of selfless giving for my benefit was for none other than their Lord's sake. The same lesson was mirrored by the many sisters who I befriended in the boarding school along with a few others who wouldn't let me repay them (despite my insistence) for buying something on my behalf which I couldn't get myself.

I now know that the only way to repay such a service (khidma) from the hands of people is to live in the same way, that is, to give whatever I can, whenever I can, and to whoever I can for His sake alone, God willing. And certainly, the true benefits of such a lifestyle will benefit none other than myself, God willing.

Serving humanity is a vital obligation on every human, no matter his capability. In the least, one can smile and consider it a service, for a sincere smile touches hearts and brings joy. The sky is the limit with what we can do, but often times our self-serving egos will only give when it suits us and not when it requires a true effort.

It should also be noted that the attitude of serving people for the pleasure of Allah is beautiful to such an extent that the recipient doesn't feel guilty for accepting the effort but rather feels honoured.

As I write this, I remind myself that I need to try to rectify my ways to include this beauty in serving those within my reach so that perhaps my words here will be more than a mere lip service and my efforts can extend to those further than an arm's length away, God willing.

May Allah guide us and make us among those who continuously give of our time, knowledge, wealth, talents, and anything else we can offer for His sake alone, ameen.

Until We Meet Again

BismiLlahir Rahmanir Rahim

Sometimes people come upon the path of our lives leaving behind footprints. In each print is a fixed purpose offering us nothing more nor less than that. Often times, we don't really notice this purpose perhaps until the person is long out of our lives and then we hope, in the least, that in some way a note of thanks could follow upon the other's path. Perhaps in the form of beautiful rain to nurture the path, or maybe even a swift wind to clear the path, or maybe even just a morning hymn from a bird perched upon the tree branch overlooking the path. Any token of appreciation would do.

But such gestures of gratitude, as deeply sincere as they may be, are only in appreciation of a gift whose source is none other than the One, He whose will must prevail over our own. And while our paths may never cross again, we know that the source of that inspirational imprint leaves us not. Our return is always to Him and our debt of gratitude is to Him entirely. And quite simply, the only way to send some tranquility upon the other's path is to return to the same source and beseech His generosity.

By God's grace, there are many who have come upon my path and some of whom, in just a moment, have left treasures that fill my heart and thoughts. These, of course, were sent to me for a greater purpose which I must attempt to discover and utilize. And while I continue walking upon this path alone, their strength, humility, and beauty weave a design in my cloak inspiring me until the path ceases to exist, until the destination is illuminated before our souls.

May our destinations be the same, and may our next meeting be as sweet as the last. While you continue treading your way, know there are some thoughts turned to you and praying for your success.

May our destinations be the same. Until we meet again, by the permission of Allah alone, until we meet again...

a speechless symphony

bismilLahir Rahmanir Rahim

from a cherished memory
of a speechless symphony
arose a sweet epiphany
considered life's epitome

but labled a stranger
cradles a danger
in something as major
as a heart's wager

merciless restless sleep
laces a story so deep
a seemingly effortless leap
forcing one to weep

the rhythm is clear
of all felt dear
but no way to steer
an intense fear

still hoping to incite
a subtle invite
to the light
of shared insight

in the soul's epitome
rests half an epiphany
an intimate symphony
serving a sweet memory

A Bright Star

BismiLlahir Rahmanir Rahim

It's been quite some time since I've had the chance to enjoy the night sky. It was a habit of mine to at least look for the moon from a window, and perhaps even catch a glimpse of distant stars. Now, the closest I seem to get to enchanting stars are the remaining glow-in-the-dark shapes that still adorn my bedroom ceiling, evidencing my nephews' previous residency.

I do admit though, I can't quite resist the moon and still look out for her, but not quite as I used to. My gaze no longer lingers for too long, and I'm not quite sure why.

Perhaps there are just too many thoughts that I shared only with the night sky that I can't seem to face her anymore with innocent enchantment. She's not a superficial source of delight anymore. She is far beyond that, far beyond.

As I attempted to fall asleep a few nights ago, I noted that the glow-in-dark stickers no longer glowed, their energy quickly spent shortly after the room fell into darkness. I thought about the night sky, and my infrequent visits. I do miss it. These thoughts eventually led into the thought of another treasure which, in my life, shares parallels with all that I've just mentioned.

A treasure whose worth, quite like the night sky, is taken for granted. He whose beauty is neglected and whose wisdom is abused. I speak of Al Quran, the last and final revelation of God to mankind, whose source is apparent and whose existence is essential.

I wondered about how one builds a relationship with it, the Quran. Where can one begin? How? Does it begin with linguistic understanding or spiritual purification? Is one, by himself, able to open the door to the room that contains this treasure or is one's entry by invitation only?

There are many in the world - past, present, and God willing, future - who have been blessed to carry the words of the Quran, precisely as they appear in the Quran from beginning to end, in their hearts. It's not a minor thing, and it is another miracle of the Quran itself.

As for the rest of us, we can only hope that we have enough discipline and consistency in our lives that we don't neglect, in the least, the regular and contemplative recital of this blessed book, a guidance for mankind whose summation is contained in just seven verses of Al Fatiha. Really, it is only through our persistence and God's grace that we have any hope of preventing its diminishing presence in our lives, something that we desperately need.

Its guidance is for the taking, if we want it. Its secrets are to be shared by us, if we seek them. Its sweetness is apparent, if we savour it.

As the moon illumines the night sky, so too does the Quran illumine hearts and lives, and I suspect that both relationships will only reflect what we each put into them.

Ya Rabb, make me, my family, and this ummah of ours from among ahlil Quran. Open our hearts, minds, and souls to the meanings and gems contained within Your blessed words. Allow us to build a beautiful attachment to the Quran, and let it bear witness for us and not against us on The Day when our pleading will avail us not. Ameen.

Update: 23-01-09

Du'a Tilawa - the supplication of recitation - with Raihan. It is a superbly beautiful du'a. SubhanAllah. It touches the heart :).

729 Made in Israel

BismiLlahir Rahmanir Rahim

Take a look. George Galloway is the voice of those who have been silenced. His is the voice of one who hasn't been deceived. May our voices join his, and may God facilitate our efforts for peace and justice, ameen.



Update: 19-01-09

Please read and sign:

Palestine An Appeal Global Movement of Non-Violent Resistance Against the Violent, Extremist Policy of the State of Israel

Dust to Dust...

BismiLlahir Rahmanir Rahim

It's a windy night, windier than normal. The wind chimes continue their rhythm, though they fail to deliver serenity to the night's condition. As I catch myself hoping that the wind would calm down, I think about how all my sisters and brothers feel at this same moment as ammunition of all sorts rain over their homes in Gaza and elsewhere. I'm grateful for the comfort and security that surround me, and pray for the relief of those who face brutality at the hands of those who take the human condition to its lowest.

It's not the deceased in Gaza who my heart especially hurts for because they will find their peace with their Lord, God willing. My heartache is for the people who remain on this earth and continue to face seemingly endless terror, injustice, and oppression. My heart hurts for them. May God protect them and give them peace and security, ameen.

As for those of us who live in relative security, it's our deceased who claim a part of my heart. Yes, there are struggles for those of us living here too, but our lives come down to our last moment before death claims us, and none of us know what will meet us at our deaths. The options are limited, and it is only by our Lord's mercy and grace that we will return to Him in a peaceful state (insha'Allah wa ameen).

I remember that as a child my family and I used to regularly drive past a cemetery. Each time we passed by, the radio would be switched off and our chatter would cease until we had finished reading a prayer for the deceased. We no longer take that route, but we often still pass by another cemetery where we attempt to continue this simple practice.

It was this afternoon, in fact, when we last passed by that cemetery, and it reminded me of my death more so than this howling wind does now. I wondered about how the souls of those who were once contained in bodies now fare, and once I leave my body and join them, what will become of me.

As various thoughts continue to tumble around in my mind, I remind myself that my life is in vain if I continue to lead it without clear direction. It's too tempting and easy to value the things which are ineffectual in our final moment of life. But like many others, I must struggle with myself to find some direction and to walk upon the path that I know I cannot do without.

I'm not really sure how much of what I wish for can be achieved, but I pray that if there is khayr in it, Allah, by His infinite generosity and grace, will open a way, just as He will open a way for those who face hardships now. Regardless of my desires though, death is a guaranteed companion for me and us all, and it is the only one who cannot be neglected.

It does not require much of an effort to realize that it is upon us to exercise any means within our reach to assist those who are suffering worldwide. And this, I believe, is part and parcel of the things to which we cannot become lax and indifferent before our own deaths.

O Lord, have mercy on our deceased and ease the suffering and hardships of the innocent people. Ya Rab, guide us to lead productive and fruitful lives as we strive to serve You in the best of ways. Protect us from those things which keep us away from You and Your way, and let us return to You in the best of states, ameen.

Business Sense, plus some

BismiLlahir Rahmanir Rahim

"You should write a book," my sister said to me today.
I decided to humour her. "What could I write about?"
"Anything," she responded.
"Anything? Who would want to read what I have to write about?" I asked.
"Lots of people read garbage," she said matter-of-factly.

I cracked up.
One point for her.

That's a daily dose of humour for ya.

***
Moving onto other things, Reviving the Islamic Spirit - an annual Islamic conference held in Toronto, is just around the corner, God willing. I missed last year's conference which was particularly special for both my sisters. It was then, by the grace of God alone, that they were able to launch Muslim Child - a web-based business appropriately directed to Muslim children.

I heard of this idea at its outset which was only six months before the business went live. At the time, I was living in Sana'a and had barely adjusted to the changes that were happening at home with my family, missing them with every ounce of my being, yet content to be where I was. As I said at the time, Yemen will always claim a special place in my heart, and this remains true.

Like many others, my parents have taught me a lot about using money appropriately. Their direction has been both explicitly and implicitly expressed and often emphasized the concepts of generosity and fairness. Time and time again, I've seen them go out of their way to spend their hard-earned dollars at small businesses with the intention to support them.

I continue to benefit from my father's words to me when we spoke on the phone a few days after I arrived in Sana'a, (roughly) "Farzeen, make sure you pay for all the food and not just yours. It doesn't matter how much it costs. Buy food and drinks for everyone. There's baraka in it, so pay for it all." SubhanAllah. These words were a light for me, and true to what my parents have often tried to teach me. May Allah reward them both and grant them and their loved ones peace and khayr in this world and the next, ameen.

Since my return home almost eight months ago, I've attended a few conferences with my sisters and "worked" at another stall - Salsabil Boutique - specializing in Muslim women's clothing - by their side. From a combination of these experiences, cruising Sana'a marketplaces, and other insights, there are a few things that I've gathered about business.

First, a business starts with a sincere intention, a clear vision, and continues with a lot of hard work. Secondly, it requires a good attitude along with a rigorous preservation and practice of high moral and ethical principles. And finally, as with everything, it has to be sealed with one's complete dependence on Allah, for success and our sustenance are both from Him alone, and we need not depend on anyone else for these matters. Within these three points are a multitude of others, but I consider these the "pillars of good business."

As I assisted at Salsabil Boutique, one aspect of customers troubled me, and that was their desire to negotiate prices. I suppose that's the custom in the eastern world, so people figure that it works here too, and perhaps sometimes it does. What troubled me the most was that despite knowing that they were buying an item at the seller's cost price, some people asked for a further discount. I hope, for their sake, that it was only their need that caused them to ask and in it they had a shyness.

I don't know people circumstances, but they also need to be cognizant of business owners' circumstances. To illustrate, at three events during the summer, almost all the businesses who opened stalls made a financial loss. The turnout of the events were minimal and their sales were even less thus failing to cover the cost of the retailer's space. Insha'Allah khayr. Such was written.

I must say though, it really pleases me to see the variety and number of entrepreneurs at these events. It says a lot to me about the community. Insha'Allah, a strict adherence to the Islamic teachings in commerce will only increase these business people in their pursuits. May Allah give them success, ease, and grant them baraka in their dealings, ameen.

As retailers prepare themselves to gather together once again at Reviving the Islamic Spirit, I hope that there there is a mutual concern between retailers and consumers to be fair and consistent in prices and interactions. SubhanAllah. There is so much to be gained by good adab with each other, I don't doubt that within such actions there resides a great deal of baraka as well. Interestingly, my best memories of shopping in Sana'a were encapsulated by good adab, but those are stories for another day, insha'Allah.

Regardless of the happenings in the conference's bazaar, I'm hoping for a morsel of food for my heart. Should that be given to me, and I fit to receive it, it will be a time worthwhile, God willing.

[P.S. - Forgive my poor use of English and even weaker composition, and please pray for me and my family.]

***
A taste of last year's fun with Muslim Child....



[And if you find the brief clip cute, please say "mashaAllah," for such a sweetness in children is from God alone and it is as He wills.]

Allahu yaftahu...

BismiLlahir Rahmanir Rahim

All praise belongs to Allah, the Lord of the Heavens and Earth and all that exists.

I have recently been thinking a lot about Shaykh Abdallah Al Haddad of Fes (may Allah preserve and elevate him, ameen ya Rabil 'Alameen). Some blogs (i.e. Salikah: A Student's Digest) have mentioned his recent visit to Toronto. He has since left Toronto and is now among this year's hujjaj having completed Hajj (may Allah accept the Hajj of all the pilgrims, ameen).

AlhamduliLlah, I was one amongst many more who were privileged to attend the lessons given by him here. There is much that can be said about the knowledge and wisdom that he shared with us, the strongest of which were often summed up in a few simple words or sentences.

I remember once when I was at the zaawiya (Risalah Foundation) about half an hour before class started and he came in. On his way to the office, he greeted me and in his usual compassionate and kind way, he asked how I was doing...

"Kayfa haaluki ya ibnati?"

"AlhamduliLlah, ana bekhair." Praise be to God, I'm well.

"Wa kayfa zawjuk?" And how is your husband?

"Zawju mun?" Who's husband? I asked, thinking that perhaps I didn't understand the question properly. "Lastu mutazawwija," I'm not married, I said with a smile.

"Lasti mutazawwija?" You're not married? He said in surprise explaining that he thought I was. He made du'a that Allah blesses me with a spouse, a righteous spouse.

"Insha'Allah wa ameen" I said and laughed lightly.

He responded very strongly, "Allahu yaftahu, Allahu yaftahu" roughly, God will open a way, God will open a way.

"Sah" Right, I responded with a nod.

***
Allahu yaftahu.. Allahu yaftahu. There was no doubt, no perhaps, no maybe in his words. He said it with complete certainty, as is fitting, that God will open a way.

In matters of this world, I submit to Allah's plan for me, marriage included. But in matters of the Hereafter.... the burden is on the soul. And while we will only enter Jannah by His mercy, our life on this Earth impacts our state when we will stand before our Lord.

A few nights ago I was thinking about how our body is really just a shell. One day it will be discarded as it rots into the earth's flesh, becoming one with it while our souls will move on to another realm of existence.

The world, as I live in it today, is one that speaks only to this shell. Beautifying the shell is a culture, a tradition, an incumbent. Yet, we forget that the things that we take for granted: food, shelter, and basic security, are privileges and not our human rights. If they were our rights as humans, then humans wouldn't be denied them. A minority of the world's population savours these privileges, treating them as rights while neglecting the facilitation of these necessities for the rest of the world.

There is work to be done. Not only for the benefit of the world's condition but also for the benefit of our eternal condition. And here we are, with 1001 gadgets to beautify a shell that is naturally beautiful but dying at the hands of our neglect of more pressing matters. It's an ironic circle that needs to be re-routed.

But I can't change the world. I only have one mirror, and it only reflects me. I cannot expect a single person in this world (let alone the entire world) to change before I become a person who carries even a minor amount of true beauty, and yet I know that I'm far from where I need to be, worlds away. Allahu yaftahu... Allahu yaftahu...

I must continuously ask myself how I will stand in front of my Lord as I continuously fall into the trappings of my weak heart and strong nafs. Kayfa aqumu amama Rabbi? Kayfa aqumu amamahu?

Ya Allah, help us!

Alive in Our Hearts

BismiLlahir Rahmanir Raheem

We are just upon the blessed month of Dhul Hijja. Many of the worlds' hujjaj (Hajj pilgrims) have already started their journeys to Makkah while others are completing their final preparations. For some, these preparations, which are far from only physical, started years ago, and they can now only hope to return to their homes and families spiritually rejuvenated and focused on the preparations of this life's journey - the ultimate journey - which we hope will end with a sweet meeting as we return to our Lord.

I am not and have not been one of the hujjaj, not yet at least (may God invite me and facilitate the way for me to be among them, ameen). However, I now walk on a new path. By God's mercy, generosity, and grace, He has sent me the means by which a refocus in my life can be made easier. In some awe-inspiring way, I feel complete with this gift of His, but as with all that this world contains, I must go beyond the superficial and ensure that I use this blessing to benefit my purpose of living. Perhaps if I do, I will find it a profitable transaction. In the mean time, I will savour this feeling of revival, and continue to strive and pray for perseverance in it.

While the hujjaj make their way to Makkah to perform the blessed Hajj pilgrimage, we too must walk with them, remembering the importance and reflecting on the benefits that the rites of Hajj offer.

May God take the hujjaj safely, bring them home safely, and accept their hajj and supplications. May He increase us in knowledge and allow us to profit even from those things which we are still unable to fully understand. May He open ours hearts and give us direction in our lives. May He help us as we struggle against our nafs. May He unite us all for His sake, and may He allow us to understand love, ameen.

A Moment of Clarity - Part II

BismiLlahir Rahmanir Raheem

Reminiscing... continued

The stones pressed sharply into my feet. The children and I took joy in the cooler currents of water as they soothed our aching feet. There was usually no space alongside the river to walk and when there was it was covered with rocks too, equally painful if not more. My phone was out of a service area, and I realized that we were no closer to our destination than the moment we stepped out of the truck. We stopped to ask the few women who stood at random and sparse points along the riverbanks if they knew of the family name of this family’s friends. Nobody knew. One lady asked if we were lost and if we wanted a ride back into town. We told her that we would walk a little further downstream. We hoped that perhaps our group had taken another route and would meet us at the other end of the river with the truck, but we told her that we would return to her if need be. Hope is a strong thing, and it was only that which kept us walking further away from where we last saw our group.

I began making mental notes on how much time remained before sunset as I tried to decide how much longer I would allow us to walk before I sought a suitable place for us to spend the night. I had two children, aged 10 and 12, with me and I wasn’t about to jeopardize their safety when I could take precautions that could ease the difficulty of the situation. Sama’ expressed her fears about our circumstances, and I told her not to worry. Allah would take care of us, and of that I had no doubt.

The ache in my feet was becoming unbearable, and my psychological encouragements failed to help me walk without grueling pain. I asked the children if they were alright. They seemed to be doing better than I was, perhaps they were less accustomed to covered feet. We continued walking.

At last, I could walk no more. I sat on the rocks, the water and dirt of the river soaked into my ‘abaya and pants. I can’t walk anymore, my feet hurt too much, I told them. They sat next to me and just then the phone rang. It was the children’s father so I passed the phone to Sama.’ Her conversation was brief. She told us that her father was mad and told us to return. Return? Is he out of his mind? I thought. He has a vehicle. What has he been doing all this time? And why is he mad? We’re the ones who have been walking for two hours because he told us to. Surely he wouldn’t tell us to walk if there was nothing to walk to. I was unimpressed and wondered how I would take another step let alone walk back another two hours. Allah would open a way for me, and I depended on Him. On the bright side, at least they awaited our return and our walking would now have a known destination. I rose again and walked one slow step at a time, flinching in pain.

If there was only something we could use to cover our feet, I thought. I looked at the area around me, but there was nothing suitable. By the grace of God, I realized then that we could use our very own clothes. Nothing too dramatic, but maybe just pull our pants slightly lower so they would cover the bottom of our feet. It worked well enough for me to at least walk, but Sama’ couldn’t claim any success with this strategy. Ibrahim tugged at dried up clothing that fused itself into a log at the edge of the river. He managed to get only a scrap, but that did not suffice, and he soon abandoned the idea. Sama’ found a slipper in the water which she wore, sharing it with Ibrahim and offering it to me. I refused her kindness. I felt for them, and kept my eyes open for more lost slippers in the river. We found a few more, but none seemed to last very long.

Two hours later, we found the rest of the group. They were settled at a spot about a 30 to 40 minute walk further down the river from where we started walking indicating that we surprisingly covered more ground in the two hours of our return. The truck, no longer trapped in the riverbed, was parked in a cleared space alongside the river while everyone ascended the slopes of mud that guarded the river as it formed a valley for the river to flow through. It was from there that they entered into the garden of their friends. When we arrived, they were all seated on light blankets resting in the shade of trees with a hearty lunch spread out around them. Since I didn’t have an appetite for food or their company, I made wudhu in the river and stood in pain to perform the ‘Asr prayer.

One reality of my existence stood clearly before me at that moment. Though the troubles of my heart only seemed amplified, I was grateful. Tears rolled down my cheeks easily, and all I could do or wanted to do was submit to my Lord as I bowed and prostrated in prayer. I know my Lord takes care of me, and never could I doubt Him.

I left the group and decided to make the most of a what seemed to have been a pretty trying day. I found a nice rock to sit on at the edge of the river. My feet took pleasure in the soothing currents while my heart and mind listened intently to the steady rhythm of the flowing water. Singing to myself, I tried desperately to take in the beauty and splendor of God’s creations that surrounded me, all the while acknowledging that my debt of gratitude is to Him alone.

A Moment of Clarity - Part I

BismiLlahir Rahmanir Raheem

Reminiscing...

After an emotionally challenging Ramadhan and Eid, I wanted nothing more than to get deeply into my studies again. It was in my books where I found my pleasure and peace, and it was that which motivated me to persevere despite the increasing weight that slowly built in my heart. Unfortunately, the post-Ramadhan vacation wasn’t quite over yet, and I had to wait a few more days until my lessons could resume. It was the 2nd of Shawwal 1428, and I was told by my host family that we would be visiting one of their friends and having lunch with them. I wasn’t in the mood of visiting people, but nonetheless prepared myself to make the most of the outing. While I regret having left my camera behind, the events of the day I shall never forget, by the permission of God.

We first stopped in the outskirts of Ta’iz where we went to look at a massive tree - shajaratun gharibah - over 2 000 years old, that is said to have been visited by the sahabas of the Prophet Muhammad (peace and blessings be upon them all). It was intriguing, and I longed to know its story though there was nobody to tell it to me.

From there, we continued to an area with lush trees and greenery. We soon found ourselves driving through a river. To entertain the children, their father drove quickly through sections of the river. The children laughed and shared gleeful cries as the water splashed onto them passing through the opened windows. I, on the other hand, was busily enchanted by the trees that gracefully hovered over the river. It was breathtaking beauty. I looked at the river ahead of us wondering why we had to travel through the river to reach our destination. It seemed a cruel way to treat such an elegant portion of God’s masterful design. I thought that perhaps the river would taper into a trickle, but it only seemed to maintain its strength.

It wasn’t much later when the truck’s wheels were trapped in the mud beneath the gushing river. The men took off their shoes, rolled up their pants, and stepped into the water. The boys followed while the local women, who were moments before washing clothes on the adjacent rocks bordering the river, looked up to watch. The men and boys scooped out as much mud from around the rear tires as they could, and in union they all attempted to the push the truck out of the mud. Their efforts were in vain. I and the other womenfolk soon stepped out of the vehicle as well. After several more attempts, one women’s husband pointed at the river ahead of us and told us to walk. I wasn’t sure to where we would walk, but I removed my shoes and socks, grabbed my phone from the truck, lifted my ‘abaya slightly above the refreshing currents, and started walking.

The river was mesmerizing. Its steady rhythm sang deeply to me, but I could not understand its words. It was only much later, after spending the day in its midst, that I learned the meaning of some of the messages it tried to convey.

I wasn’t sure how far we would need to walk, but I found my feet too sensitive for the task at hand, and no more than a few minutes of walking on the river’s slippery and calloused rocks caused my feet to hurt. Mind over matter I told myself as I walked faster, steadying myself where necessary and keeping the pace of the children, Ibrahim and Sama’, while leaving the two other ladies behind. After some time, I said to the young girl, “Where are we walking to?” She didn’t know. I was disappointed because I didn’t know either and knew that in my haste to get to our destination quickly I should have stopped to at least ask where we were going. I turned around, and the women were no longer in sight. Perhaps they were still making their way around the river bend that we only just passed. I called out to Ibrahim telling him not to wander too far ahead without us. My feet were sore, and I was eager to get to the destination sooner than later. Perhaps the river will taper soon and lead to an open area with homes I thought.

We had walked for about an hour, our chit chatting slowly dwindling into silence, when finally the three of us rested under the trees for some time hoping that the womenfolk would catch up with us soon and lead the way to our destination. Or better yet, that the truck would soon be in sight in hot pursuit of us. Nobody came, and we continued walking.

...to be continued, insha'Allah.

A Prayer

BismiLlahir Rahmanir Rahim

A du'a with Dr. Tariq Ramadan - may the Almighty preserve him, bless him and his family and loved ones, and keep them strong in His way, ameen. Simply beautiful... masha'Allah...

...Al Fatiha...
...Ameen!

The Taste of a Rain Drop

BismiLlahir Rahmanir Raheem

"Can you hear the rhythm of Allah’s creation?
The rhythm of the clapping of the thunder and the rain.
Can you see the rhythm of Allah’s creation?
The lightning and the leaves, and the seasons as they change."
It poured, and poured, and poured some more. I listened intently as the rain thundered onto the already rain-soaked ground.

O beautiful rain, as you are to the earth, my tears are to my heart. In those days now long gone past, your rhythm and mine fell in sync. I kept up with your lavish downpours, and some days perhaps I even surpassed your excellence. I watched you while your efforts caressed the seeds down below leading them forward in their purpose, and while you filled ravines with a heavenly drink for the passersby and for pasturing animals, and while you adorned the earth with purified gracefulness. And I admired you. For those beautiful moments, your rhythm was precisely mine.

I look back to you now and how I miss you so. How I wish we could dance together again upon those gracious clouds. How I wish I could share in the intensity of your expressions. How I wish I could share your visions of clarity.

Our shared expressions were not in vain, and now I desperately look back to those lessons that you so earnestly tried to teach me. It may take years before I realize the depths of your reality, but now I lay my hand open waiting for that one sweet droplet to fall into my palm.

Let me taste the sweetness of understanding. Let me taste the sweetness of my reality. Let me taste the sweetness of surrender. And to God we submit.

"The rhythm of our world beats in surrender to Allah.
Our blood and our breathing testify.
The rhythm of surrender is a part of who we are.
With each heartbeat and involuntary blink of our eyes.
A part of us we can't deny."
[Dawud W. Ali]

All True

BismiLlahir Rahmanir Raheem

Tap tap, who's knockin'?
The devil aint followin' ...
...me, it's mah own soul
Itself a source of rage,
asking for comfort
But I'm still searching.
Where's the key to the cage?

The devil aint the problem
I need to make a start
One foot forward to make aright what's in this heart..
..of mine, oh, happiness is not its mark
Never seen a light, still in pitch dark...
...ness...

Been searching for a while
But only my tongue has changed
Learned to fight
Hoping for mah tears on the first
of these blessed nights

Happiness is not in you,
or you,
or you
Complete as one,
False hopes in the tale of two
Expectations lead to disappointments
The soul, she's one
family-less, friend-less, all alone
Depending on the One
...Only...
to find its way home

Sweet words, worse than sugar
eroding a heart
God I need to make this start
O God, heal my heart
Invite me to You
and open the door
I've seen my illusions and now I'm searching...
...but failing to fight what keeps me distant...
from You

Invite me to You
and let this soul soar
each time you privilege this forehead of mine
to touch the floor...
... in service of You.
Life's One and Only...
...all true...
All True.

O God, I turn to You. Lost is all my hope in everything except You. You are the source. Help me be true. Invite me to You. I only want You. O God, only You can ease this heart. Only You know what lies beneath my masks. Only You know me. Only You can save me.

I pray that this Ramadhan be one where some veils may be lifted,
and the truth of our existence may manifest before our hearts and souls,
and our minds and bodies respond to it in a way that is befitting of such realizations.

Insha'Allah wa ameen.

Ramadhan Mubarak!

***

Imam Al Ghazali: The Alchemist of Happiness



Part 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8
But I'd suggest you purchase your own copy.

Hasad

BismiLlahir Rahmanir Raheem

A few years ago, I wondered to myself about some of the secrets that lie in the Quran, especially the greatness contained in the chapters and verses that are recommended for daily supplications/invocations/recitations. I figured it was probably best that I take some time to think about the meanings of some verses, and I began (without much more progress) with suratul Falaq, the second-last chapter of the Holy Quran.

The Daybreak, Dawn
1. Say: I seek refuge with the Lord of the Dawn
2. From the mischief of created things;
3. From the mischief of Darkness as it overspreads;
4. From the mischief of those who practise secret arts;
5. And from the mischief of the envious one as he practises envy.

It was the last verse that especially caught my attention, and I wondered what envy contains so that God, in His glorious knowledge and wisdom, would send these words for the benefit of humankind. What dangers are contained in hasad, envy, to which we are oblivious? I wasn't sure, but kept these thoughts at the back of my mind hoping that at some point I would have some insight into its importance.

A few months later, my father was sharing stories of his father's days and said that my grandfather (Allahu yarhamuhu) once told him that the biggest problem in the community was hasad or envy. SubhanAllah, perhaps that's one reason why we seek God's protection from it, I thought. I couldn't yet appreciate the depths of the Quranic words, and again tucked these thoughts away for further reflection.

In recent months, I was blessed with the chance to attend a few classes in a series of classes given by Shaykh Yahya Rhodus (may Allah preserve him) about the ahlil bayt, the family of the Prophet Muhammad, peace and blessings be upon him. He spoke about the hierarchy of creation (refer to the book "The Man and the Universe" by Dr. Mostafa Badawi for an excellent explanation of this among many other insightful and necessary explanations), and went on to explain that there are two fundamental aspects of a human:

1) 'Ubudiyyah in which case humans are passive in relation to Allah
2) Khilafa in which case humans are active in relation to Allah, people, and the cosmos.

Thus, humans are both active and passive, but success ultimately lies in submitting to Allah. Anyone who submits will be successful for the doors of Heaven are open to all, but we have to maximize our potential. And Allah gives us all different potentials.

He continued by speaking about the fadhal (bounty, grace) of Allah and mentioned that Allah will give His bounty to whom He pleases, and that the middle way in dealing with Allah's bounty is (roughly) "Do not desire what Allah has favoured to some and not others."

This of course leads into the topic of hasad, envy. And it was then that I understood, to some extent, the words in suratul Falaq. He explained that hasad is bad (excuse my lack of a better word) because we impose our will on the will of Allah who has given of His grace as He wills. We need to avoid hasad, and give shukr (thanks, gratitude) to Allah for His fadhal.

How often do we think "I wish I had that like so-and-so" or "if only I were blessed with such-and-such like so-and-so, then I'd be able to achieve xyz" or "so-and-so is so blessed with/because of such-and-such, it'd be nice if I could have it too" or many other varieties of things that we desire for ourselves that are simply inaccessible though it may seem like 'everyone else' is privileged to possess them. It's not greener on the other side, and while some people may have some things they are bereft of some other things that others are blessed with.

My mother was recently telling me stories about people who utilize black magic to harm others as a result of seeds of envy. SubhanAllah, I could barely believe it, but it's true. And the scary thing about it all is that we can harm people, even unintentionally, by our envious ways. May Allah protect us from this, ameen!

Envy is a vile disease of the heart that most of us are guilty of harbouring to some extent. It only seems natural now to speak of ways of dealing with it. Imam Mawlud writes about it in the book "Purification of the Heart" which has been published with a translation and commentary by Shaykh Hamza Yusuf. Refer to this website for some excerpts about envy from the above-mentioned book.

Envy is really a battle to overcome, but like all diseases of the heart, we have to first try to identity them in our hearts and then work toward curing them, bi ithniLlah! May Allah help us all, ameen.

Please correct me where I err... may Allah forgive me, ameen.

‘Abd Allah Ibn Mas’ud said the Messenger of Allah (peace be upon him) said:

"Let there be no envy, except in two things:
1. A man whom Allah gave a wealth and guided him to spend it in righteous way. 2. Or a man to whom Allah gave wisdom and he acts wisely and teaches it to others."
(Al-Bukhari and Muslim; See An-Nawawi, Riyad As-Salihin)

Acknowledging XY

BismiLlahir Rahmanir Raheem

So what is it in the Y chromosome carriers that make them perfect targets to pick on once in a while? Perhaps a lot of them simply pour out reasons worthy of criticism. Honestly though, I don't think there are necessarily more aggravating males than there are females in the world, but the actions of men, majority of whom posses more influential power than double-X carriers, carry a greater impact (thus responsibility) than many women. (And of course I'm being very general here and acknowledge that inevitably exceptions exist -- it's all about the bell curve folks!).

As oh-so-tempting as it is to verbally annihilate some menfolk, I think it would be a waste of precious thought and time. Instead, I think it would be far more productive to speak of some men who shine. They are seemingly the most ordinary of men, but they are gems who I've been blessed to have in my life, if even for what seemed like just a moment. A cherished moment that gave me insight into rare beauties that as a society we fail to acknowledge.

Here goes...

I arrived in Sana'a with my travel companion and her twin sons at about 10 pm. We passed through customs without any problems, except that the officers wanted me to open my hand luggage. They asked what was inside, to which I responded "books." One officer only glanced quickly inside (thus no harm met my stash of M&Ms *phew*), asked where I was from, and with a smile said "welcome."

We were met by a brother (from Canada -- I'll call him "Ahmed") who I corresponded with for some time prior to my trip as he advised me on schools and suggestions on what to pack. His correspondence was very helpful, never mind all that he and his family did for me afterwards. He and his friend came to the airport, they loaded all our luggage into the van, and they took us to a hotel. The brother then spent some time showing us the area around the hotel, places where we could get breakfast, offered some advice on living in Yemen, and handed me more than enough Yemeni riyals for breakfast, since we had no riyals on us at the time. We soon met his wife and daughter, and we had dinner with them. It was the beginning of a sweet friendship. His wife is a gem, masha'Allah! I felt quite at home with them all so much so that my final days in Yemen were spent with them, alhamduliLlah.

We spent two weeks living in the hotel, much to the despair of my travel companion. In that time, I had the task of finding a suitable school for myself and an apartment. AlhamduliAllah, with more advice and assistance from this brother and his wife, I finally decided on a school. The hunt for an apartment was more challenging, but for that too Allah sent two brothers my way. One was a connection of a sister I knew online. May Allah reward him and his brother for their sincere efforts, ameen. The other brother was a complete stranger whom my sister had contacted online. He learnt that I was in Sana'a, and he offered his complete assistance. He told me on several occasions that it was his obligation to help me, though the truth of the matter was that he had no obligations towards me whatsoever. It was through his efforts that I found an apartment that was in an ideal location for me and that came with a landlord and his family (who lived upstairs) that took good care of me. I eventually met this brother's wife, mother, father, daughter, five sisters, and many nieces and nephews. I can't describe my first meeting with them except that the difference of languages was not a barrier for us. They all easily claimed a special place in my heart, and I continue to think of them with much fondness. AlhamduliAllah, I was also able to spend a few days with them before leaving Sana'a and Yemen altogether.

Both of these brothers and their families were there for me like my family. In fact, they both came to the airport to pick me up when I returned to Sana'a, and they, along with one brother's wife, took me to the airport when I left Yemen. It was a complete blessing for me to have kept their company, the company of their families, and to wave a final goodbye to them as I had my boarding pass in hand ready to come home to my family. SubhanAllah... There are no words in this heart of mine that can thank them adequately. May they find their rewards with the Almighty, ameen. It goes without saying, I cannot thank Allah sufficiently for the many blessings He bestowed and continues to bestow on me. All praise belongs to Him, the One whose generosity is unmatched, whose mercy is ever-abundant.

There are a few more noteworthy brothers that Allah sent my way, if even for a brief moment, but I'll not share all their stories except for one. One brother, Muhammad, is a friend of one of the above-mentioned brothers. He and his family live in the poorer parts of Old Sana'a. Life is difficult for them as they deal with poverty. His month's salary runs dry two weeks into each month, and every month they are without food. SubhanAllah. I'm so grateful to have met these people because they have hearts of gold. Muhammad's wife was the first Yemeni sister who I was able to sit with as she chit-chatted with Ahmed's wife. She made a point of speaking in fus-ha Arabic for the benefit of us foreigners, and I remember how excited I was when I was first able to understand some of what she was saying.

When it came time to leave Yemen, I had some problems with my passport which her husband was going to try to resolve for me by taking it to one of the government offices. A few days before he planned on doing that, he took his family (for the first time) to an amusement park in Sana'a (since his son really wanted to go). Sadly though, there was an accident with the roller coaster that they were on and his shoulder was badly injured. I went with Ahmed and his wife to visit the brother in the hospital, and while there his wife told me that as he was being rushed to the hospital he worried about my passport and told her what needed to be done. When I saw him at the hospital, he apologized that he couldn't take care of things for me, though his relative would, and that if he was okay in a few days he'd like to take me to the airport. I told him not to worry, and that I'm going to tell him the same thing I'd tell my father if my father was in his situation, that is that he should rest and take care (and if you're wondering, I said it in very broken Arabic, but they're forgiving people). He smiled.

So while we continue to moan and complain about life, men, and everything in between, there are people who are far better than us because they want to be, though their conditions are far more challenging than ours for reasons that they cannot control.

Perhaps one day, insha'Allah, I'll be able to write about my father and brother(s) who mean more to me than words could describe. Perhaps for this reason, if no other, I shouldn't challenge their sanity as much as I do...

May Allah make the menfolk of our ummah among the righteous, may He bless them with ease, and bless them with generous and kind hearts. May He give them the patience and strength they need to successfully overcome the increasing number of challenges that they face today. May He facilitate their efforts for His sake, and make them shining lights in our ummah, ameen ya Rabil 'Alameen!

Half of Knowledge...

BismiLlahir Rahmanir Raheem

Western society, as a whole, seems to belittle and even mock one of the greatest institutions of human existence - the family. We really don't seem to have a holistic concept of its value and thus we neglect its preservation in pursuit of societal ideals. Ironically though, the West values education even though the educational system itself is in serious disarray. I am a product of the dumb-downed educational system. Perhaps if I had remained in the corrupt country from which I emigrated, I may very well have had a chance to develop sharper thinking processes that I could utilize now in adulthood, wa Allahu 'alim. But such is the past, what of the future?

Why is the family so important? I'll leave you to explore this question by yourselves. Instead, I'd like to bring attention to an area that draws parallels to this question, and it too is equally neglected leaving us, the Muslim community, in confusion. I'm referring to our essential Islamic education.

SubhanAllah... I'm not sure where to begin. I often wish I had a road map so I would know what it is that I need to know to be able to live in this world as one who utilizes her existence to the fullest. I'm eternally grateful for all that my parents have taught me. I often try not to take their lessons for granted. I can recall many occasions when I couldn't access their advice only to ask myself, "What would Mom and Popz tell me to do?" It has actually been quite efficient in helping me choose my next steps carefully. But my parents (may Allah reward them, elevate them, and grant them khayr fid dunya wal aakhira, ameen) have been limited in delivering the wealth of Islamic knowledge that is out there. I don't at all hold this against them because such knowledge has to come from those who have sat at the feet of teachers who continue the chain of sound knowledge from the time of the our beloved Prophet and Messenger Muhammad (salla Allahu 'alayhi wa salam).

We live in times when the ignorance of Islamic scholarship is the rule rather than the exception. As a community, we get into petty arguments (or heated discussions) when none of us have any substantial knowledge about the matter being discussed. I think it's time for us (starting with myself) to keep my mouth shut about matters that must only be discussed by those who know.

I recently had the opportunity, alhamduliLlah, to participate in a program (called Qurba) with the Razi Institute. Masha'Allah 'alayhim. The shuyukh just make me smile. May Allah preserve them and allow us to benefit from the knowledge which He has bestowed on them, ameen. In a five-day program located on a beautiful college campus, we were introduced to the basic structural premises of the major Islamic sciences. We had the opportunity to witness how these sciences interact, and it truly is no simple thing. It is complete ignorance for any of us to believe that our deen can be understood and implemented by simple consultation of the Quran and sunnah while neglecting the Islamic scholarship that flourished after the death of Prophet Muhammad, peace and blessings be upon him. It's an absurdity that I can no longer exert the energy needed to make any sense of it.

I left those classes feeling that my brain was fried. I struggled to get a grasp of the larger picture knowing that I have many holes in the foundation of my basic Islamic education. SubhanAllah... how little we know, oh how little we know. It is no exaggeration to say that those of us who read Islamic books and attend Islamic conferences and listen/watch Islamic lectures at home have been exposed to but a grain of sand in the depths of an ocean of knowledge.

In God's great generosity, He has allowed me to be settled close to a community that is glowing with Islamic scholarship, those who are striving to equip us with Islamic principles that will facilitate us in our lives as we strive to come closer to our Lord through sound Islamic teachings and practice. I just hope that He will honour me and my loved ones to be among those who can benefit from the presence of these gems, insha'Allah wa ameen.

"نصف العلم في كلمتين ـ لا ادري"

Simple You

BismiLlah

Look into your heart and tell me what you see. Is it the ocean, a fire, a mountain, or simply empty?

Close your eyes and tell me what you see. It's not "nothing," if you look deep enough. There the waves crash, the birds sing their prayers, and the heart takes over the mind.

Now open your eyes. What do you see? Just a wall or a universe? The clouds and the trees paint a much larger picture, yet you choose to ignore them. And what of the moon? Perhaps we are blinded by our own vision. An irony of some sort, a sad irony.

Do you really want to see? If so, open your heart and close your eyes. Touch the sky and you'll find a surprise. Only then can you appreciate your vision --- to see beyond your "natural" scope. 'Tis nothing too profound. 'Tis simply a blessing to all who choose to use it.

Give thanks and praise to the One who gives you such gifts, such an honour! Forget not your place in this universe because you, simple you, have a fixed place.

Penned on November 25, 2001

Masked. Blinded. Trapped.

BismiLlahir Rahmanir Raheem

This is my poor attempt to bring it all together with just a few personal reflections inspired by my sisters from afar, living on those beautiful mountain tops - the sisters who walked with me upon the clouds ... barakAllahu feehinna.

There were many times when I asked myself why God allowed me to go there and for what reason He took me there. I've been asking myself that ever since. I know there was something, but perhaps it will be years (should I live that long) before I ever put the pieces together, but this is a start, bi ithniLlah.

***
It's not easy being a Muslim woman in the West. This is the first time I've said these words to myself. Perhaps only now I am beginning to understand what it entails.

But first, what does it mean to be a Muslim woman? To pray on time five times a day, to pay zakah due on us each year, to fast, to be kind, to raise our children to respect and honour our human existence through life's proprieties and divine guidance, to care for our parents, husband, elders, and community? Absolutely. Is that all? By far, it is certainly not all.

When I think about what it means to be a Muslim woman, I feel at ease. I think about the Muslim women luminaries such as Khadijah bint Khuwaylid, 'Aishah bint Abi Bakr, Zaynab bint Jahsh, Nusaybah bint Ka'ab, and the list continues. I know that I will never manifest their greatness in any sphere of my life, regardless of how hard I may try, but their lives exemplify struggles, emotions, thoughts, actions, words, dedication, intelligence, rigour, spirituality, strength, and humility in what I consider a pure and true Muslim woman, a Muslimah. What I see in them is attainable, even if it is one million degrees below them. Along the same lines, with the same elements, they are us, and we desperately need to try to be like them.

As soon as I put the word Western in front of Muslimah, I feel the hairs on my head turning white. In my eyes, there seems to be no reasonable way for me to attain what is being asked of Muslim women here in the West. Some have done it without breaking, perhaps many have, but I don't know their stories, nor their ways. I can't seem to even set the stage right.

If I want an education, I must not let my guard down as I challenge everything that is being presented to me. If I want to work, I must explain myself to effect changes so my "comfort" (values) can be accommodated. If I want to marry, for some I must have a degree (as if it is any proof of what benefits I could bring to a home or family) or working potential, for others I must be willing to interact with them casually, and for yet others again, I must be willing to concern my actions wholeheartedly around family matters. All of these are among many others of equally confusing varieties. If I want to be a full-time mother, I have to defend my decision and prove its worth.

I don't want the best of both worlds, I want a balance.

I want to be true to the service of my family, as I see in my mother. I want to be true to the service of my community, as I see in my teachers. I want to be true to the cloak of haya, as I saw atop that mountain - and this I find the most difficult. As my friend wept at the threat of maintaining her personal level of haya, I knew that I had no true concept of the word. This was and remains a sad realization for me. But please understand, when I say "haya" I don't mean the niqaab, I mean the reactions of the heart.

Zaid bin Talha reported God's Messenger (peace and blessings be upon him) as saying, "Modesty and faith are companions, when one of them goes out, the other follows it."

It is also reported that God's Messenger (peace and blessings be upon him and his family) said, "Every religion has a character and the character of Islam is modesty (haya)."

Haya is not a light matter, and it is precisely for this reason that I feel it is my greatest threat and barrier to personal success in times when the world is spiraling quickly in its degeneration. These ideas and thoughts continue to tug at my heart, and yet I don't have the insight or words towards a solution.

I could live on a mountain... I could live in a village... I could live and no strange man need ever see my face, hear my voice, or know my name... I could, but I don't. I am a Canadian Muslimah living in suburbia, and this is where I belong, whether I like it or not. But it is only with the help of my Lord that I will ever have a chance of making it work.

Ya Rab, ya Rabil 'alameen, in our darkness we turn to You for light. In our fears, we turn to you for comfort. In our struggles, we turn to You for support. We depend entirely on You. Teach us, ya Rab, teach us, show us, and guide us to Your way, in the best of ways. May Your peace be upon us and those whom You love, may Your wisdom be near us, may Your greatness humble us, may Your truth guide us, ameen.

Update 2008-07-30:

I neglected to post this earlier. It's a lecture given by Shaykh Hamza Yusuf entitled "Men and Women." I wouldn't post it if I didn't think it worth listening to, so listen to it :).

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7

(They're not long... yalla, ifta7hu.)

Update 2008-08-01:

Check this out: "Nun-Jabi" --- It has some serious flava' - Shi style!

Fly my child, fly...

BismiLlahir Rahmanir Raheem

One letter at a time, I carved my name into a tree. Much effort and time, yet it has quickly disappeared. The shavings fall, their destinies veiled. Many indistinguishable now as they are thoroughly mixed with the soil and mulch at the tree's feet down below. A few from amongst them dare to fly with the wind. Far away they venture, their return unknown, surely forbidden.

....dust...

I carved my name in a tree. It is now dust. Mixed with nature's elements, proof of its existence has vanished. Except for the pain that the tree remembers. Except for the strain that the knife endured. Only the struggle remains.

My every cell is transforming, returning to dust. Soar in the wind I tell them. They fear embracing their new identity. Fly my child, fly. Most fall to the ground by my feet. The wind has scattered the remnants of my existence.

...does my struggle remain?

Mountain Beauties ...cont'd

BismiLlah

A continuation...

Quite naturally, the women smiled in amusement at the bride-to-be’s shyness. My other friends, sisters of the bride-to-be, re-entered the room. With a few more light-hearted remarks, the doctor’s mother (the bride-to-be’s mother-in-law-to-be) suggested that my friend wear the fancy dress that was given to her for the occasion. My friend left the room to change and soon returned to her seat on the floor next to me, a lot more shy now than a few minutes earlier.

It was an interesting scene. Mother-in-law-to-be was getting frustrated with the shyness of daughter-in-law-to-be, and daughter-in-law-to-be seemed very much out of her element, with her grinning sisters (one with merciless teasing) looking on. Attention moved away from my friend for a short while. After some time, she was told to wear her ‘abaya again. I didn’t know why.

It wasn’t long after that, with her ‘abaya in hand, that my friend started crying. She crouched down near the edge of the bed as she faced the wall succumbing to her tears. Qumi! Qumi ya Aishah! – Get up! Get up Aishah! the ladies called out. They tried to pull her up, but she didn’t budge. Her tears flowing more profusely now than before.

I didn’t like it one bit. I waited to see how the others would react to her. There was some level of amusement in the air, something I couldn’t appreciate at the time (and I still fail to appreciate). I crouched next to her, put my arm around her shoulders, and told her to not to worry. Behind us, voices sang again, Yalla, qumi! My heart was with her. I turned around to tell the others to leave her alone for a while and to give her some time. I returned my attention to my friend, offering meager words of comfort with my limited knowledge of Arabic. Quli bismiLlah wa la takhaafi habibti..quli bismiLlah. – Say bismiLlah and don’t worry my dear, say bismiLlah. I held her tight, hating that while she was so emotionally distraught, she was being pressured to do something that she clearly wasn’t ready to do.

The bride-to-be’s mother entered the room. After taking a few moments to survey the scene, she asked her daughter to get up and get dressed, her empathy evident in her tone. I stepped away, knowing that a mother has more compassion for her child than I could have for her. I looked on as my friend stood up, put her black ‘abaya over her clothes, and wore her hijab and khimar. She left the room.

I didn’t know what she went to do. My heart was still with her. A little while later, she returned, this time with more composure. I still didn’t understand what it was that made her cry her heart out. Her shyness? I wasn’t sure.

The day after I asked the doctor’s wife why the young lady had cried with as much intensity as she did. She explained that it was normal for most girls given that it’s the first time a strange man sees her. Interesting.

I visited my friend not-too-long afterwards and naturally asked how she was doing. She seemed a lot better, though a little heavy-hearted. She told me that she was distressed that night because she had to meet her father-in-law-to-be, without niqab, and she didn’t want to. She wasn’t married yet, and her father-in-law-to-be had no need to see her face nor shake her hand as he wanted. She said that in her effort to reconcile her heart slightly she shook his hand with the fabric of her khimar between their two hands.

She had every right to feel violated. It is not the right (haq) of a father-in-law-to-be (a non-mahram) to request that of her. She had every right to be upset.

***
You might be wondering why I’ve related the above story to you. SubhanAllah. I don’t think my narration does justice to the experience, but I hope that insha’Allah I can bring it all together by sharing my reflections with you in my next entry (that’s if I can find my words *ahem*).