I couldn’t have Ramadan and not post something Ramadanish!

I have an interesting post about Ramadan coming up soon, something I found very relevant. And something not common knowledge. But, for now it’s just a poem.

Sometimes I wish Ramadan could last forever
Who cares if we’d have to fast forever
That emptiness, that void finally filled
People generally more calm and chilled
That spirituality
Sacred mentality
No food? No water?
Shaytaan’s slaughter!
We’re not material beings, in a spiritual world,
We’re spiritual beings, in a material world!
The way Allah seems to be sitting beside me
The way we see Jannah’s key
Everything seems so easy.

But when I eat and drink for suhoor and iftar
And go places in my air conditioned car
I think, maybe I should have more realization, feeling
And I need to work more towards global healing
But that’s what this month calls for eventually
To try and make all that vice and despair flee
People say it’s a long shot
But how else do we end the rot?
Oh Muslims, answer your hearts
Scrub those dingy old carts
I see that tiny starved boy
And bruised girl, all part of a ploy
A half played with, half torn toy.

“We’re not material beings in a spiritual world, we’re spiritual beings in a material world.” I don’t remember who said this.

The Plasticity around us

This is not one of my regular posts, but I needed to let this out so I’m going to go ahead and post away.

I’m cool to socialize with, I’m not being egoistical, it’s just what it is. But even when I’m talking to someone and listening to them drone on and on about their life and the so many ‘important’ things they do which in reality have absolutely no interest for me, I’m still trying. Trying to make people like me as a person. Even when I don’t like someone, I will never be rude to them, on the contrary I’d try and be the ‘nice girl’, the nice girl who then has to listen to everybody because no one else wants to.

Maybe it’s because of that attitude that I see through people too much now. And I’m not interested in socializing with new people anymore. I don’t want to. Maybe I’ve had a few rough experiences, but rough experiences is what teaches. And yes, there’s something to be learned from everyone, but I’d rather not learn from everyone. I’d rather not comb through their aimless lives where the biggest problem is they don’t have the right clothes because folks have already ‘seen’ certain clothes and now they can’t repeat them, or that their hair isn’t straight enough.

I feel exhausted. Socializing exhausts me at times. The only time it refreshes me is when I talk to my best friend, and I only have the luxury of having one of those. I think, why should I start pondering over things which never have had the importance in my life as they have had in others? Why should I even bother to go through the hassle? Why have people indulged themselves so much in things that don’t matter? And why forget the things that do matter? Then our community complains about depression.

I don’t even like going out with most people anymore. I can’t stand the fakeness, the artificial reality they’ve made for themselves. And I certainly can’t stand it when they expect me to join all that. I cannot do it. I’d rather stay at home where it’s nice and real, or roam about some massive meadow.

I want to go live in the mountains, where the air is fresh and free from the strange, unthinking world. Where I have the liberty of thinking without criticism, walking without worry. Where there are no people except the minority I care about and cherish.

Does anyone else feel as if it’s been too much? There’s too much, as I like to call it, plasticity around us? I want to escape. I’m scared I might turn into a mindless robot, too, and I can only pray to Allah that I don’t.

Because if I did, I’d be the greatest of my own enemies.

A Request

I know a neat person who blogs and is also involved in charity organizations, and this is something she’d like to advertise, I suppose anyone who can help should if they can.

Here’s the project she’s working on with some other people:

This Ramadhan we are fundraising for Hope Nursery in Turkey. Based on the Turkish-Syrian border, this nursery caters for 70 children and is in dire need of support to keep the  facility open.  This e-book has been put together to help you have a healthy and beneficial Ramadhan whilst also raising money to support Hope Nursery. This 125 page e-book packed full of recipes, fitness tips, motivational articles and much more for just £4.99!! Grab your copy today and support the children at Hope Nursery.

The link for the ebook is:



Grandfather folklore

To The Indian reverted Muslimah, I’m sorry this post has been due for a long time but I hope you like it!

My grandfather and I are lying on his bed, the ceiling fan whirring as it moves around in quick circles. It is almost midnight, but my grandfather is in a storytelling mood.

“I have an interesting one for you today”, he says.

I turn to face his wrinkled face, anticipation rising. “Go ahead, Dadabu, I love your stories.”

“Okay. A really, really long time ago, there was a very pious man. A man from Hazrat Musa’s nation. He wanted to make sure that his son would be well provided for after he died and so he thought of plan. He decided to release one of his calves into the jungle, and praying to Allah to help him with the plan, he hoped that the boy would find the calf when he grew into a mature man, and that the cow would help him financially to cater to his and his mother’s needs. So on his deathbed he prayed, “Oh Lord, I entrust my wife, my son, my calf and my belongings to You.”

The boy grew up. The youth was as pious as his father. He earned his living by cutting wood. Whatever he earned he divided into three equal portions: one he gave to his mother, one he used for his needs, and the last he gave as charity. His nights, too, were divided into three parts: during the early part of the night he helped his mother, the middle part he devoted to the worship of Allah, and during the last part he rested

The man had told his wife of what he had done, so that the wife could tell their son of the cow roaming the wild. When told, the son immediately made for the jungle to look for the cow. He prostrated to Allah, and soon he had found the cow his father had left for him in the jungle. He led the cow by a rope, and the animal would not let anyone except the boy near it.

An interesting episode was happening right then. A rich person had died leaving all his money to his son, and the Israelites, being selfish and greedy, killed the son so they could have the money. The relatives of the boy went to Hazrat Musa (AS) and asked him to find the murderer. The prophet instructed them to slaughter a cow and place the tongue of the cow on the corpse. But the relatives thought he was joking. He said, “Allah forbid that I do so!”

So the relatives asked him what kind of cow, and he gave them a description.

“The cow is neither young nor old, but in between.”

They asked him, “What colour should it be?”

“Yellow in colour.”

They were still not satisfied, so they prodded him again. He replied, “It is an unyoked cow, it does not plow the soil nor water the tilth, and is entirely without marks.”

They went out in search of such a cow. The only one that fitted the description was the cow owned by the orphaned son. They offered a few gold coins at first, but the mother refused, saying the cow was worth more than that. They went on increasing their offer, but the mother did not accept. The people then urged the son to talk to his mother and make her reasonable. But the son was too obedient to do so, “I shall not sell it to you even if you fill it’s skin with gold without my mother’s consent.”

“Let that be the price”, the mother smiled, “It’s skin filled with gold.”

They had no other option than to pay the mentioned price, but the Israelites had brought the hardship upon themselves.”

I know most of us are familiar with the cow and the Israelites episode, but I didn’t know the background of the cow and thought it better to share!

Allergic to ”e” challenge!

Although I never thought I’d ever have to write without the beloved “e”, I must today because khamosh dhadkanen, which is a blog by the way, nominated me to do so. I’ll try but… I love ”e”!

First, here are the rules for this challenge:

1) Write a whole paragraph ( a paragraph sounds easy right?) without any word containing the letter “e” (still easy for ya?)
2) By reading this you are already signed up.
3) Challenge at least five bloggers to do the challenge. They must do it within 24 hours or it is considered as failure.
4) If you fail or pass, suffer in the Page of Lame.
5) If you win, wallow in the Page of Fame.

So after I’ve copy pasted the rules, I’m supposed to start and here I go!

Although it’s tough today to do things right, it is only as difficult as you might think of it. Afflictions, bumps and whatnot nobody wants but has to go through. If anybody could go through what anybody would want, all of us would still think unoptimistically (haha I know). That’s just how it is, nobody is going to stay happy, that’s how all of us built. To stay happy, all of us can only do what’s actually good, what all do shall go a long way with humans post us.

I’m done! It’s nice to have that ”e” back. Now I have to make sure five others suffer the torture. My nominees are,

1. Seeking Sincerity

2. Peaceloveanunity

3. A blog to regret

4. Poetry4islam

5. impeccable’mua

Hehe have fun!

I Love Pakistan

I was in a thoroughly patriotic mood today. Humming all those national songs and singing out the words. I don’t know why people are ashamed of this country. I don’t know if there’s a better place to live, literally. I love Pakistan so much, even after I travel, I would always come home to Pakistan, my excellent country.

I’ve never been ashamed of being Pakistani,

Although, yes, it has been accused of being unworthy,

And when it cries over it’s sad plight,

I struggle to catch that much needed light,

I breathe in the beauty, the scent of the land,

Thinking, there’s no other place I’d rather stand,

So when you say, it’s a third world country,

And it’s been target of an evil spree,

Know that the talent and beauty will compensate,

We can still work towards a better fate,

All kinds of precious gems, oh stones galore!

You’re left thinking, could there be more?

The landscapes, the mountains, the rivers, the sea,

Yet we have the busy, bustling city!

The freedom we have, who else does I don’t know,

A certain aroma, a bounteous glow,

Innumerous are the geniuses this land bore,

All they need is an available door,

Hardworking people, honesty agreed upon,

All we need to get rid of, that vexing con!

Yes we have corrupt leaders, and that lazy official,

But there’s something there that’s just too special,

We’re different, always were, always will be,

Yes I’m proud of the nation that raised me!

So, if you’re Pakistani and reading this, tell me don’t you want to shout Dil Dil Pakistan at times? 😀 😛 Because I certainly do!

Oh my God, folks, just stop it!

So it’s absolutely beautiful weather we had today alhamdullilah, where I live the heat can be cruel these few months and whenever the clouds come… it’s a massive sigh of relief. I just watched the last episode of Monk, can’t believe that cute OCD dude won’t be entertaining anymore, and Randy and Sharona? Whoa.

I’ll stop that now. So I’m in a better mood than I am otherwise, and I’m going to make all the girls (and guys who agree with me) even happier, for I’m sure every girl has been through what I shall write of, and it is SO frustrating.

Whenever a guy tends to walk nearby, I feel a ton of respect for him when his eyes are on the floor and not fixed to my hijabed self, gaze lowered and pure. And I’m sure others agree with me. No girl likes it when someone is staring at her, especially when she makes the effort to stay modest. No girl will appreciate that person, whatever the intelligence level and however good looking he might be. It’s just not right!

On the other hand, when a decent akhi realizes he has walked into a room where there’s one girl or a couple of them, and then decides to go outside or quickly does whatever he came for, he has no idea the amount of respect he has earned.

So addressing all those guys out there, Oh my God, folks, just stop it!

Not only is it completely unIslamic, but ethically it isn’t something acceptable either. Why does a man defend his sister or daughter when someone seems to look at them? Because it isn’t socially acceptable.

We’re not things put up for display. We have our respect and alhamdullilah we have been blessed with a status. I believe it beneath that to gawk at somebody. Somebody who’s not mahram either. And yes I believe we should cover but men should observe some modesty, too, because Islam is a fair religion. Women are as much human as men, and hence should not be hailed as products. I suppose everyone’s aware of how that is commercially true, but we need to root out the evil in ourselves to absolutely end it.

Then, my brothers, when you say “I want the perfect wife whose life has been decently and purely spent” and you yourself are guilty of undecent acts, all I can think is “Oh please stop! Stop this injustice this very moment!”

Of course, girls aren’t completely innocent either, nobody is. But today I wanted to address the male population and plead my case: stop staring!

So basically, I want to say, when a guy strives to keep his gaze lowered, and it must be hard for them since they’re so used to it, know that I’m smiling at the purity of his soul. And I’m not the only one smiling.

Allah is smiling at him too, and what else could you possibly want?

The lucky last

I called this the lucky last because we are the last ummah, and are lucky because Allah has not punished us the way others before us were punished. They were severely punished for one crime, and for us a single act of vice means nothing anymore. Maybe we were told their stories to make us realize how every sin counts, but eventually at the end, the best thing is we can be forgiven! 🙂

One of the earliest prophets was Nuh,

Preached for years to that unyielding crew,

And although his followers gradually grew,

They were only the poor few.

So God upon them water threw,

And saved the ones who believed and knew.

To Ad, went the prophet Hud to make them realize,

Only in the hereafter lay the real prize,

It didn’t matter each was blessed with powerful size,

But the condemned him, ridiculing those “lies”,

For eight days, seven nights, all one could hear were howls and cries,

Lay as hollow stumps of palms, for they hadn’t been wise.

To Thamud, prophet Salih went to call,

Towards reality, before they’d fall,

The famous she-camel, a test for all,

Murdered her they did, for their minds had hit a wall,

And before they knew it, before they could stall,

A Great Blast had consumed them all.

Prophet Lut preached to the unguided town,

But they didn’t listen, all they did was frown,

He said it’d be better to be straight or they’d drown.

So it was, their city was turned upside down,

Pelted with stones, they surely lost their crown,

Prophet Lut unhappily left that town.

Madyan People! Oh, stop this corrupt trading,

Spoke the Prophet Shuayb, his voice never fading,

But his efforts were futile for that aiding,

And an earthquake came raiding.

He preached to the People of the Thicket, too, honest grading,

But in their arrogance, they kept parading,

Eventually, the Shadow of Death had them wading.