The Lone Dandelion

BismiLlahir Rahmanir Rahim

"You forgot one dandelion" the little boy informed his grandfather. They spent some time in the garden tending to the flower beds, lawn, and the many weeds. The astute four-year-old was an eager helper enjoying his time with his grandparents. But this young assistant takes his surroundings for granted as he has to yet to discover his family's history and all that it entails. It is a history of migration and something that he must learn to embrace.

The term "immigrant" is tossed around in various political or economic arenas. People question the wisdom in allowing "others" into "their" country often times neglecting their own histories of migration. Regardless, countries are dependent on migrants, and citizens owe it to themselves to recognize that a country only grows richer with increased cooperation.

My family was like that lone dandelion in the garden. We immigrated to Canada almost twenty years ago from a life of relative comfort in a country of despicable corruption to a life of sacrifice in a country of relative peace. It was not easy trying to build a new life for ourselves as we faced a new array of challenges in a place where we lacked social networks and supports. But God takes care of our affairs, and after some time it has become the only place that we are familiar enough with to call home.

I am very grateful for my history of migration as it offers me an alternate lens to view the world. It's almost as good as travelling except that the "them" that my fellow citizens use to refer to immigrants will always be an "us" for me.

There are a host of psychological readjustments that immigrants must adopt in their new homes. Tariq Ramadan speaks of these, and once mentioned a very simplistic yet profound idea, "there is no such thing as a minority citizen." The implications of such a truthful statement are vast and demand the attention of all citizens.

The challenges that refugees face are a lot more multifaceted and increasingly more difficult. A refugee, by definition, is one who flees for safety, especially to another (foreign) country. A forced migration often times means one comes from an unstable environment to a new land without the means to easily establish oneself there.

Al Amaanah is an organization based in Houston, Texas that strives to serve the needs of the refugee population in that vicinity. Their name points directly to the responsibility that they acknowledge each community has towards the struggling (refugee) segment of the population. It was very inspiring watching these three (1, 2, 3) videos regarding their work.

One young man specifically mentioned that it is difficult for people in need to ask for a helping hand and it is upon those who are able to offer themselves and their contributions before a person is forced to ask. He also mentioned that every community has people who are need and it is up the rest of the community to seek these people out and offer them help in honourable ways.

I pray that God gives this organization divine success (tawfiq) and facilitates their efforts for His sake. May He help other communities combine and utilize their resources in the service of others for His sake, and may He give ease to all those who are suffering worldwide, ameen.

In closing, my use of the term dandelion in reference to immigrants is absolutely not meant to belittle. In fact, I'm hoping that it would invite us to think deeper about how we classify newcomers in our midst. Those who know the value of the dandelion plant actually seek it, collect it, and use it to improve their health. Most of us though cannot see its beauty and instead take cheap shots as we uproot it from a place it deserves to flourish.

As with many things, it only takes an initial effort to put ourselves in other people's shoes in order for us to be more productive and empathetic towards the situations that we face as communities.

And success is from God alone.

Focusing In

BismiLlahir Rahmanir Rahim

وَ قُل رَبِّي زِدنِي عِلماً

Have you noticed how perseverant the devil is in his oath to distract mankind from the worship and servitude of the One and True Lord of all that exists? His arrogance led him to make such an oath, and he works wonders in trying to fulfill his goals.

It amazes me how we, people in general, are able to persevere in our wrong actions. I suppose we have both the support of the ego (nafs) and Shaytan that makes that path easier. As Shaykh Abdullah Al Haddad (of Fes) mentioned once, the nafs is the daughter of Shaytan. They're a lethal father-daughter tag team that are very easily sustained.

However, intellectually, I don't blame Shaytan for my wrongdoings. He probably has a portion of blame, but only insofar as delivering an invitation to follow a misguided and undesirable way. Acceptance of that invitation and execution of its requirements are all matters that sit firmly on my plate of life's choices. And this is a burden I place on myself.

If the world was like a video game that has a power bar in the peripheries of our vision continuously telling us how much we earn in terms of rewards and how much punishment we've reaped from our misdeeds, most of us would likely despair. But life is not a video game, and our ability to rectify our situation is always an accessible option. It's almost like a game that has 'cheats' but in life (since life isn't a game) there are windows of opportunity to overcome the negative effects of our transgressions.

This is simply achieved, as I see it, by directing our sincere efforts to praiseworthy endeavours and most importantly sincerely seeking God's forgiveness with the resolve not to continue nor return to our wrongdoings.

It seems quite the challenge to remain focused in the honourable pursuits of life because they are harder to sustain. I suppose a firm support system needs to be established, and often times that comes from one's home. And more importantly, I imagine that our efforts toward good are only made easier by seeking knowledge for His sake.

Shaykh Abdullah Al Haddad visited Toronto in the summer of 2007. In my absence, my friend kindly shared some of his words with me. She had asked him about knowledge and how some students of (beneficial) knowledge feel weak or lack perseverance in their studies. She said his response was lengthy but he essentially said, something to the effect, "Many people ask regarding this issue. However, if we only realized the importance of this knowledge, we would never feel this way (lazy or lacking in motivation)." He also said that if we were sensitive to the responsibility we have concerning this knowledge ('ilm), these feelings would be impossible.

We cannot worship God in fear of Hell, nor can we worship Him in anticipation of Paradise. Our entry into Paradise is only granted by His mercy. But we must strive to worship Him and to perfect our worship of Him because He is deserving of this complete servitude.

The road is not an easy one, but half the time I think most of us are looking for the actual path, never mind attempting to tread it. Again, I think it's by the light which God bestows through knowledge that the path will become clearer, God willing.

May Allah bless us with knowledge, wisdom, and understanding. May He forgive our sins and help us draw closer to Him. May He protect us from deceiving ourselves and distracting ourselves in fruitless and blameworthy pursuits. And may He take us back to Him in the best of states. Ameen.

Update 19/05/09:

Narrated Dirar ibn Murrah: Iblis said: "If I am successful in persuading man to do three things, then that will be all I need: to make forget his sins, to regard his good deeds as too many, and to be proud of his opinion."

.رب انفعنا بما علمتنا... رب علمنا الذي ينفعنا, آمين

Recharge

BismiLlahir Rahmanir Rahim

Most seem not to need to recharge during this time of the year. Spring, by itself, invites renewed enthusiasm. And how can it not? With budding leaves, blossoming flowers, emerging butterflies, and refreshing rain, it begs one to look ahead with positive and optimistic anticipation.

But even though I welcome this spring season, it seems not to be the same as I've previously seen it. As I listen to today's howling wind that co-exists alongside whistling birds and the bright evening sun, I recognize that some of us still sing with that very same wind.

So instead, I find my sense of renewal, at least for now, in words that a sister documented last year during her forty days in Tarim, Hadramawt, Yemen.

***Day 25
Just like you die if you stay three days without water, your heart will die if it stays three days without listening to anything that reminds you of Allah, whether it is Qur'an recitations, lectures etc. So what if you're not only not listening to things that remind you of Allah, but listening to things that make you forget Him? Habib Umar

Every time you sin layers are added to your heart, until eventually your feelings [towards Allah] are blocked. Every time you feed your body what it wants, it just wants more. And when you do that your soul is dying. If it could talk to you it would tell you to feed it; the food of souls is worship. Sheikh Imaad

Day 15
It's ok to sometimes meander from the spiritual path. As long as you have a goal in mind, you can always get back to it, just like a car can get back on the road if it takes a right or left. Habib Umar

Day 35
"[Don't be] the man who wants to be learned in the sciences of religion but spends his time in idelness and says, 'God is generous and merciful, able to fill my heart with that knowledge with which He filled the hearts of His prophets and saints, without any effort on my part, any repetition, any learning from a teacher. Again, you resemble the man who wants wealth, yet does not engage in farming or commerce or any gainful occupation." Imam al-Ghazali

Day 36
To attain the secret of knowledge, act upon it. To attain the secret of dhikr, do copious amounts of it. To attain the secret of prayer, have presence in it. Habib Kathim

Day 39
People are sick of kalaam [talk] and they won't listen to it anymore. We don't need people who talk anymore, we need people who act, and who do da'wah through their character and behavior, not their speech. Habib Ali

A Breath Away

BismiLlahir Rahmanir Rahim

For much of this past year, I've felt like a fish out of water. Yesterday marked one year when I last breathed Yemeni air, and I do miss it. I miss it a lot.

As I listen to the rainfall this early morning, I can't seem to get back to sleep. It poured and poured the night that I was scheduled to fly out of Sana'a delaying my flight by five hours. And while many might have found the delay a nuisance, it was yet another blessing in God's ultimate plan for me. By the time I made it to Frankfurt to catch my connecting flight, I only needed to wait in the boarding terminal for about half an hour before boarding. My preference, by far, was to spend five hours sitting in Sana'a's humble airport.

There are endless memories - thoughts, reflections, dreams, experiences, interactions, sights - from my time in Yemen that I've drawn from over the last year. Interestingly, they have helped me in many ways as I lived through what has been the most challenging year of my life thus far. My life is far better than most, alhamduliLlah, and it is pretty problem-free, but there are things that I've almost taken for granted that have changed and that force me to restructure my approach to life. I am confident that peace will eventually meet me if I persevere, God willing.

Perseverance. It's really a difficult word to describe, and my life has been far too easy for me to ever claim to have any insights into its deeper meaning. But in my own simple way, I have had a taste of it.

I suppose it's fair to say that most who know me note that I'm particularly fond of Arabic. It was in search of her sweetness, at least initially, that took me to Yemen (and God knows best). However, it might surprise these same people to know that sometimes I wanted to give up. Though I only studied for about sixty percent of the time that I was in Yemen, I devoted my attention at those times wholeheartedly to my studies. After my short class each day, I'd return to my abode, be it my empty though peaceful apartment, or a home of generous though trying strangers, or the confines of a bustling boarding school, and studied alone with my trusty dictionary ever nearby.

I would sometimes get frustrated with myself when I noted that I was looking up the same word in the dictionary for about the fourth time (if not more). I wondered why I couldn't remember its meaning the first or second time around. Nonetheless, it was what I had to do, so I did it. I couldn't detect the progress that I was making in the language, and I couldn't anticipate any end.

Finally, it was time to write a mid-term exam. My teacher had far more confidence in my abilities than I had (and still have) in myself (yet another blessing, alhamduliAllah), and thus prepared a somewhat challenging exam. I suppose it was about one hour into writing the exam when I realized that I was smiling. I probably smiled the entire duration of the exam as I engaged with the questions. True enough, I didn't know all the answers and I made some silly mistakes, but that's the meaning of learning, and I was learning.

Now, I'm afraid to even look at that same exam which I still have with me because it'll evidence all that I've forgotten or failed to build upon.

A year of my life has passed, and I have not achieved even a minute percentage of the goals that I put before myself as I made my way back home. I suppose my goals are superficial in their own right, and I need only focus my attention on the needs of my heart, but that's an even heavier weight which I'd be blessed to be able to carry.

My longing for Yemen has little to do with the country itself (though it is a beautiful place) but rather focuses in on what it offered me. I remind myself that those offerings come from a single source, and it is to Him we must submit.

Peace is only a breath away, and I pray that it's a breath that finds its way to me before I breathe my last, insha'Allah wa ameen.

Walk With Me - Part II

BismiLlahir Rahmanir Rahim

... a continuation

When people ask us "What's it like being a twin?" we can only respond with a similar question, "What's it like not being a twin?" It's the only way we know. Our sisterhood is something we can take for granted, but our friendship, though transient in nature, is something that not all twins share.

It's not easy trying to articulate the specifics, and a part of me really doesn't want to. But for the sake of making a clear connection, I will have to try.

Our sisterhood, as with other familial relations, means that we'll eventually forgive each other. If we really need the other, we can eventually find the other helping. If we need someone to listen to our confusion and offer some insights, we can find this person with ease. If we need the reminder of another's compassion, care, and love, we need only spend some quality time together. If we need something as drastic as a kidney, we need only ensure that the doctors are prepared to perform the surgery.

Our friendship, as I've never seen in any other (parents excluded), means we forgive each other before the wrongdoing is complete. If only the thought of some basic need comes to mind, we find the other already facilitating its acquisition. If we speak to each other, any angst or distress present soon vanishes. We never seek a reminder of the other's love, compassion, and care as its evident in all our interactions. And if we ever need something as urgently as a heart transplant, we would only settle on sharing that one heart knowing that one's loss would be too great for the other to bear.

You might think that I'm exaggerating in my descriptions, but in essence, it's the complete truth. The friendship we have shared indicates that we care for each other more than ourselves and the other person's pain hurts us far more than our own. Our individual successes are shared by us both with equal enthusiasm, and we embrace being true to ourselves while in each other's company. Perhaps this is exactly what is meant by sakinah - tranquility, or to be at complete ease with another. It's a beautiful thing, alhamduliAllah.

But how does this all relate to marriage? In her life, it means that her best friend needs to be her husband. Their relationship is eternal in nature, unlike our own, and necessitates their complete commitment. In my life, it means that my closest attachment has to be beyond the tangible. Let me elaborate.

God blesses marriages with love, mercy, and tranquility (mawadah, rahmah, wa sakinah), and by virtue of such blessings, one might expect that married couples share all that I described above. We do not doubt, not for even a nanosecond, that God's promises are true. He has equipped all marriages with these essential items of true companionship that will hopefully be utilized by both husband and wife as they strive for something greater than the superficial and ephemeral.

Marriage is nothing other than a means to helping us achieve our goal of coming closer to our Lord and serving Him as He invites us to do, and yet, this beauty of sakinah and companionship is not easily visible among most married couples. Yes, I know, marriage is difficult. Growing up, my sister and I bickered enough for me to know that discord is a part of life. But how often do couples get through it and use it to improve their relationships? God only knows.

Again, I readily admit that I am in no position to speak about marriage. But if I can articulate my hopes in this regard, it would be that husbands and wives are also best friends. It goes beyond their obligations to each other as spouses and it embraces love and mercy manifesting itself into a life of tranquility, God willing.

The difference between marriage and friendship is that Shaytan prides himself and his people on destroying marriages, and he will fight couples relentlessly to achieve this end. As I've heard from teachers, the way to combat his interference is for both husband and wife to unite as they fill their home with dhikr, the remembrance of God. Shaytan is repelled by this, and it will deter his hopes. Please don't give him the pleasure of destroying a relationship that has the potential to grow into a beautiful abode in this chaotic world.

Sometimes though, some marriages just don't work. And God knows best why that it is. If such should occur, it still remains an obligation on both husband and wife to separate in a good way. As my father says, "Start with dignity, and end with dignity."

For those who are single and may never marry, there is something profound in it too. Should Allah will for you to marry, you will marry. And if not, you won't. It's as simple as that. But do you think that Ar Raheem, The Most Mericful, does not have something sweet for you too? Kalla, no. Have a good opinion of your Lord, and you'll always find sweetness in front of you, God willing.

As I tell myself now, there are two doors from which we (married or single) can enter into this sweetness - the love of the Quraan and the love of HabibiLlah, the beloved of God, Prophet Muhammad, may God's peace and blessings be upon him and his family. In fact, we all must strive to enter from both doors, and know that Allah will send us what we need, be it marriage or otherwise, if we truly seek success with Him alone.

For more information (this is my very polite way of insisting) about developing a relationship with Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon him, listen to these lessons (and this one in Arabic), insha'Allah.

Walk With Me - Part I

BismiLlahir Rahmanir Rahim

So let's combine my idealistic and peripheral observations with my continuously unachieved hope for worthwhile reflections. It's a dangerous combination given my lack of both direct experience and a suitable personal frame by which to place these thoughts. Consider yourself forewarned. You'll get only what you want to get from this, God willing - nothing more and nothing less.

***
Parenthood aside, marriage seems to be inspired by romantic ideals. But it takes a lot to keep the flames of such fanciful notions alive given the daunting task of trying to live with someone after some 20 or 30 odd years of not having to deal with that person, his habits, personality, interests, family, and moods.

For others, the dominant appeal in marriage seems to lie squarely on religious progression. But that too cannot be taken for granted, especially when you find that your significant other is struggling just as much as you with his spiritual aspirations and neither of you have any idea how you can help yourselves let alone each other.

Financial and worldly ambitions aside, there remains the hope of finding a companion in one's spouse. And it is from this point which I hope to make some leaps in my thinking, bi ithniLlah.

By God's grace, I am no stranger to companionship. Before I was born, I met my playmate, my confidant, and my best friend - my sister and my twin. To strangers, our faces are one and the same. To intimate acquaintances, we delightfully compliment each other. And to family and loved ones, we are complete individuals always playing on the same team.

There aren't words sufficient enough for me to thank God for this great blessing of companionship, and I'm sure within in too He has a lesson for us both.

My twin sister is a wife, a mother, and a step-mother of a few loving and beautiful (masha'Allah wa alhamduliAllah) children, all of whom are gems and gifts from God. She is a selfless woman with a big heart who attempts to raise her children with high moral and ethical consciousness. Her strength, perseverance, vision, and hearty sense of humour (that often keeps me laughing) are few of the many beautiful characteristics that Allah has blessed her with (alhamduliAllah).

However, the inherent nature of this world is change and this blessed relationship must endure the same. But as with everything in life, we must face these changes with complete confidence in God and His plan for us.

***
Were my writing aids pen and paper, the ink in my pen has suddenly run dry and will remain as such until I can reclaim the balance between heart and mind. Only with that can I hope to find the clarity which I seek, by the infinite grace of Allah.

...continued here

Acquire knowledge.
It enables its possessor to distinguish right from wrong;
it lights the way to Heaven;
it is our friend in the desert, our society in solitude, our companion when friendless;
it guides us to happiness;
it sustains us in misery;
it is an ornament amongst friends;
and an armour against enemies.
-- Prophet Muhammad
....may God's peace and blessings be upon him

If I may...

BismiLlahir Rahmanir Rahim

Excuse me for a moment, I want to complain. Yes, I just want to complain.

I want to mention something and tell whoever might bump into this insignificant portion of the web hoping to pass some of their precious time in a fruitless pursuit that the random thing which I choose to mention is annoying and irritating me. That's a complaint, right? To whine about something because it's bothering you or maybe because you just want to hear your own voice so you pick on anything or anyone and attempt to start a case. (It takes too much energy to find good things to say, so why bother, eh?)

But you see, I'm too boring. And I currently can't think of anything to complain about. Not even myself which is usually a good place to go to get a good and decent topic for a complaint. But no, I have nothing. Zip. Zilch.

And you know what? It feels great! Just great!

But say something happens, and then I do have a complaint, and I voice it out to you. Yes you... No no, not you, but you. Clear? As clear as mud. I hoped as much. You can add that to your list of complaints. Yes, say I was to present a complaint to you, what would you do? Because you know, I'd only tell you if I trusted you enough to be able to respond to my complaints in a worthy way.

Don't listen to me whine for the sake of my whining having an audience because then your being would be easily likened to a worthless board which my whining rebounds against and comes back to me exactly the same way. Noise. I might as well complain here, on the world wide web where everything bounces back even uglier than when it leaves my grasp.

If I should so burden you with my complaints, please listen. And then, offer some fruitful feedback.

Why? Because whining for the sake of whining is a waste of time.

So quit yer whining sweetheart!

A Brief Second

BismiLlahir Rahmanir Rahim

It was, as always, in the midst of the night
When the shadow that danced upon the walls
Ceased to complete its infamously graceful steps
In concern, or was it despair, I arose to discover its purpose
Silenced, it could not be discerned
Where its steps ceased to exist, so too did its form
I waited
One second
And two
My breathing pausing alongside my anticipation
And then, there was motion
But only slight enough for the proctor to notice
And I did
And it hid its presence again
We had only just started the choreography
Of a speechless symphony
And as I stared into the darkness
Searching the walls for any sign of permanence
The world became clearer
For a second
A brief second
I knew that my waiting was in vain
The certitude of history beckoned acknowledgement
And the suspected guarantee of failure enlightened
The journey will be solitary for me
As hope cannot flourish in mere shadows
And in the deep crevices of the night
I still search for some strength
For a chariot of some sort to help carry me
To the abode of promises fulfilled
For it is by His graces alone
That in this world we can live

O Ramadhan

BismiLlahir Rahmanir Rahim

Reminiscing...

Ramadhan was finally upon us. Any thought of it in the months preceding its arrival was difficult to bear. I wasn't sure of what the changes that year would mean to me. Suffice to say, it has almost been two years since then and thoughts of it still linger.

The location was breathtaking in the day, but especially so at night. How I loved the nights! The stars stood overhead, each smiling brightly. The moon giggled and when no one was looking, I'm sure she winked too. We were living with the stars, and it was spectacular.

The night sky has its way of stealing me, and so it did that very night as we sat in pitch darkness, the electricity cut again, on the porch of the neighbour's house. Her front yard boasted a small farm, one small enough that the house which I was then a resident of was easily visible.

For some years prior, my sister and I developed a tradition of singing a Ramadhan song together upon the arrival of Ramadhan. I probably hadn't had the chance to speak to her yet, and as I gazed at the beautiful night canopy, I thought of the song.

As the neighbour and her sisters fussed in the dark preparing coffee and snacks, I sat in silence savouring the beauty of the moon. I debated over the temptation to honour the family tradition alone, but I really didn't want the others to hear me. I soon gave in and started singing the song softly to myself while enjoying the splendor of the night sky.

My humming, unfortunately, caught the attention of my companions who quickly started 'hushing' each other so they could hear me better. I, of course, stopped. They asked that I continue, but being acutely aware of their full attention and my preference to minimize it and disappear into the night, I refused. They pleaded. I figured that it was God's blessing that the electricity was still not working, and with darkness as my cloak, I indulged their request allowing myself to embrace the meaning of the words. After which, I butchered the song in my attempts to offer a translation.

I relate this story because the fifth new moon that appears in our skies from now, God willing, will mark our beloved Ramadhan, and perhaps it's time we start preparing to meet her. I know I tell myself this every year, and every year I fail, but it seems to be about the only thing glowing on my horizon, and I owe it to myself to do something about it, insha'Allah.

One beauty of writing is that thoughts can be preserved, so I remind myself about these suggestions which I wrote a few years ago in attempt to prepare for Ramadhan's arrival.

May the Almighty allow us to live long enough to meet Ramadhan. May He help us as we try to renew ourselves for His sake, may He forgive our sins, and may He shower His infinite blessings upon us and our loved ones, ameen.

"Happy to Meet, Sorry to Part, Happy to Meet Again"

BismiLlahir Rahmanir Rahim

Pain is a part of life, and it was a part of the life of our beloved Prophet Muhammad, peace and blessings be upon him. Beyond the physical challenges that he met in his life, be it hunger or illness, he also experienced a great level of emotional pain.

I wonder how it was that he responded to each situation. He experienced the loss of many who were not only close to him, but they were beloved to him. God placed them each as a source of comfort in his life, and these people included his mother Aminah, his grandfather Abdul Muttalib, his uncle Abu Talib, his wife Khadijah, his daughters Ruqayyah, Um Kulthum, and Zaynab, among many other significant people, may God's mercy and peace be upon them all.

I'm sure he wept, and yet I'm also sure that none of these many incidences in his life caused him to falter in his focus on reality and the purpose of life. After all, he is the last and final Prophet of God, peace and blessings be upon him. He was aware of the nature of this world, which inherently includes joyful meetings and sorrowful partings.

We need to reflect on his life and his way of doing things so that perhaps we can have some share of a grasp on reality in our lives.

Most don't like saying goodbye to those whom they respect, care about, and love. It's hard to let go of the joys of such company, and yet sometimes it's necessary. I can recall, quite vividly, the most difficult goodbyes in my life, and still, there are more ahead, by the will of God.

I can face them with the thought that I'm losing something, or I can face them with the affirmation that peace and contentment is with God alone. And as I say goodbye to those I love, I must acknowledge that I have been blessed by the Almighty to have tasted such a sweet connection in the first place.

I remember my last face-to-face interaction with one dear sister. We had only met each other a few months prior to our parting, but time did not play much of a factor in connecting our hearts. As my departure time neared, she came to see me to share some parting words which started with, "You know, I really don't like goodbyes." We then decided that it would not be a goodbye, but rather it would be an "until we meet again, God willing" moment. It was a slight reframing of the same concept, but now it offered so much more.

This life ends, but souls do not perish by God's will. God, Most Generous is He, unites people again, and we pray that He unites us with our loved ones in the best of places, in Jannah, with the most beloved of creation, Al Habib, Al Mustafa, Prophet Muhammad, peace and blessings be upon him. Ameen.

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.