Wednesday, November 30, 2005


Yesterday, my 6th grade Language Arts class had two assignments. The first was an independent project---a worksheet. The second was a group project due Friday. I promised them the last 15 minutes of class to have a group meeting to discuss the project, and even though it was so quiet while they were working on their worksheet, I did follow through with my promise and allowed them fifteen minutes of meeting time. After making sure everyone was situated properly, I retired to my desk. Not five minutes later, I look up from my stack of papers waiting to be graded to find Justin at my desk waiting patiently to speak with me.

"Um, Teacher?"

"Yes, Justin?" I respond.

"I need a wife," says this 11 year old student of mine. He does not flinch nor smile. He is as serious as can be. I was taken by surprise. I mean, I still teach them Islam, but middle schoolers asking to be hooked up with a spouse? Yeah, I had no idea how this thought seriously crossed his mind.

"Well Justin, don't you think you are too young to get married?" At this point, he begins to protest.

"No, teacher that's not what..."

But at this point I begin laughing uncontrollably. I cannot stop myself. He is not shy; he joins me in our whole-hearted laughter. Finally I ask him what he means.

"Well, you know how for our project we have to do a reader's theater production of a scene from the story?" Being the one who assigned the project for our literature assignment of the week, I was well aware of the requirements of the project. I replied in the affirmative. "Well, I need a wife for my character."

"Oh," I reply, finally making sense of his slant towards matrimony. "So what do you want me to do? Would you like me to ask one of the girls to play that part with your team?"

"No," he begins. "Teacher, would you be my wife?"

Isn't that the sweetest thing ever? I'll remind him of that when he is older with ten kids of his own, insha'Allah! :)

Sunday, November 27, 2005

Confessions again

My back hurts really bad.

I feel too philosophical at moments that it nearly drives me insane.

i have this theory about death and young people that I want to write about, but I'll save that for later. At least this will remind me.

I can't cry anymore. It is a weakness that I cannot. And I cannot because I find it a sign of weakness. Rather ironic I think.

Watched Pride & Prejudice with my buddies. Rented the much better older version tonight. Despite it's flaws however, the movie was worth it. I enjoyed my date with Mr. Darcy immensely.


I have no idea what I am gonna wear to school tomorrow. It'll probably be my abaya because I am too lazy to iron anything.

I hope I get to go to my friend's wedding in Detroit this December. But if I do, what in the world am I gonna wear???? And it will be cold...very cold...I hate the cold...I love a party though!

My back hurts really bad...

Dream World

Setting: A large vast piece of land. From where we are standing, a small lake is visible in the distance. There are trees placed randomly by God in all directions. However, directly in front of us (it seems as if we have come from that area) there are many trees that have been planted in two parallel rows and are making a wide, yet low tunnel. Here in the open area, there are birds overhead, the sun shines beautifully, and the world is reminiscent of a heaven of our dreams.

Teacher- This is me. I am exactly as I normally am, dressed for school.
Justin-One of my students. He is a great kid and, masha'Allah, a great Muslim.
Hakeem-Another of my students. A very polite, almost timid kind of guy.

Although both of these students are in the sixth grade and are rather tall (at least to my shoulders), in my dream they appear to be much younger and much shorter.

Act I: Confidence

I am lead to the open field by my students. It is a breathtaking view. The world is beautiful. I have never been to this place although it is clear that the boys frequent the area. They are excited that they get the opportunity to show me such a beautiful recluse. I am honored that they feel safe enough to share this magnificent place with me. It is very early in the morning, perhaps just after sunrise. It feels that the world is ours.

The boys wish to take me fishing first. As we walk towards the lake, I make note of the splendid setting. The boys are beaming as I take in the breathtakingly spectacular view.

Teacher: Masha'Allah guys, this place is beautiful.
The boys beam.
Teacher: How did you ever find such a place?
Hakeem: I don't know...we....
Justin: We just knew.
Hakeem: And you are the first person we showed it to.
Justin: Yeah, no one knows about this place. Well, almost no one.

Assuming they are speaking of themselves, Teacher (I) looks away at the beautiful scenery. I do not seem to notice the boys' hesitant glances at each other. But the darkness that had momentarily flashed upon their faces, disappears as they take their teacher's hands and run through the green fields.

ACT II: All that glitters

Finally making it to the lake, I am about to ask how the boys intend to fish when they have not brought fishing gear. But before I can ask anything, noise overhead breaks the sweetness of the moment.

Teacher: What is that?
Justin and Hakeem exchange nervous glances at each other.

Hakeem: I thought they don't come until evening.
Justin: So did I!

I now notices that the boys have become fearful. They were carefree only a moment ago, but now look at each other with desperation.

Justin: Teacher, we have to go.
Teacher: But...
Hakeem: NOW!

They speak with urgency. The complete change in their voices and demeanor give Teacher the chills.

Teacher (to herself): What could possibly make children so scared and drain them of happiness?

Both boys grab me by the hand and begin running. In their glee only moments ago, the three had ran throughout the pastures filled with happiness. But now filled with fear, the three find that they have run far from their point of entrance, now their point of escape.

Above head, I notice a fighter plane. It is green and rather old, but a fighter plane no less. There are soldiers on parachutes falling from the sky. The men seem faceless, hidden behind heavy green uniforms and dark masks and goggles. They carry guns and look ready for combat. I look to my right and see Hakeem running at my pace. I glance at my left and notice Justin continually speeding up only to slow down. I look around at the scene that had made us happy only to notice it is not what I had noticed initially.

Teacher: Look, there are....
The boys both nod their heads in unison.

I (Teacher) have noticed the fences. They did not appear in the beginning of their outing, but they are as visible as the sun was a moment ago. The world has become dark, everything we had imagined was no more. The fence itself is the worst part. It is ominous. It is enclosing us into a place that has become ugly beneath our running feet.

The boys are leading me to the alley of trees from which we entered. I now notice for the first time how short the path is. In order to pass through, I will need to bend over, almost as if in Ruku'.

Justin: Come on teacher, we have to hurry.
Hakeem: We have to get outta here before....

But I do not hear the rest of Hakeem's sentence. I do not need to. We are passing the men in uniform now. I can see that they are searching for something. I do not wish to be the hunted.

Justin: Just trust us Teacher.

I do trust them. But I should be the one protecting them, not vice versa. We run as fast as we can. I am breathless, but surprised that I can keep up with the two young students. They take my hand as we reach the opening of the tunnel of trees, and it is at this point that I realize something that disturbs me. These boys are so young, and I am old. I have been invited into the world of children, to Neverland as it were. And here I had a brief glimpse into childhood once more. And now the pirates had come. They have ruined our minds, our paradise. These soldiers have taken away the innocence of these two boys. I am now beginning to hate these soldiers more than I fear them. But I leave them behind, the gunshots and fighting behind, as we enter the tunnel that will lead us to the real world of such crimes.
Even things lost and forgotten can live on in your head forever.

Thursday, November 24, 2005


I wish you were here
here next to me
Been missing you
so, so desperately

I am hurting...
this song is touching and introspective
can't get it outta my head
How I'm missing you...

Yeah, missing
missing out

"break outta the darkness of ignorance"

Not so easy bro
it safe without knowledge
no matter how we hurt ourselves
and those close to us
The Quran has left our hearts
Stranded, hanging on our walls
Desperate for a piece
of that heaven
we verbally seek it
but only partially
walk toward

--Italicized lyrics from "I've Seen" by Outlandish feat. Sami Yusuf

Wednesday, November 23, 2005

Lunch Duty---written on a napkin

Cafeteria--November 23, 2005--12:50 p.m.

I have lunch duty today, hence the fact that I am in the cafeteria with a bunch of loud boys. :) Just now I envisioned a massive food fight---the kind where everyone is covered head-to-toe in greasy foods. And I imagined myself running to the middle to make them stop only to become drenched in yuck!---Then this led me to think about a show that used to come on Nickelodeon when I was little. Something about a camp, two red-headed brothers named Pete (I think), and all the trouble they caused. Oh, and they hung boxer shorts on the flagpole.

Anyone know what I'm talking about?

---end of transmission on napkin in cafeteria---12:55

Ya Ruhi! Ya Rabi!

Does it feed into my soul?
Does it feed on my soul?
Does it place fear in my soul?

Do I fear my soul?
Do I feed my soul?
Do I feel my soul?


The words are digging a tunnel
to the depth of my hurt soul
My heart has stopped its
beating only to give me
chance to breath free
from the troubles of
this bright world I
love so much but
hate deeply. I
stand alone
as I wished
to be.Yet
I stand
as I

Bad dreams...harsh lesson

I had a terrible dream last night about mi padre... I cried in my dream and felt horrible even after waking. Makes me think about how much I take what I have for granted. I love my daddy, even when he frustrates me and makes me mad. He is my Baba and will always be the first man I've ever loved---my dear Baba. I think I'll call him and tell him I love him...

May Allah protect my family and make us all better Muslims! Ameen!

Tuesday, November 22, 2005

Tough Guy in a pink tutu...

Alhamdulillah, I slept like a baby last night. But, I missed the loud hamsters noises. I missed their little fights and loud exercises on the wheel. *wipes away tear*..............What the heck am I saying???? How do you get attached to furry mice in only one weekend??? Maybe I'll take them home this Thanksgiving weekend...

Monday, November 21, 2005


We finally have a new Islam teacher!!!! *happy dance* And it is another male teacher (now we have four in the building full-time)...finally have more guys in the building to kick these students into shape. It is really kinda sad, but middle schoolers tend to react differently to guy teachers than they do to female teachers. But I don't care... We finally have a new Islam teacher! *halal happy dance*



Last night I lay on my bed thinking. Then I thought of something that I felt I needed to write down. It was genius. It was relevant to the most important matters in life.

"What if he wears old black T-shirts turned gray?"
-Me at 12:10 a.m.
It is now completely weird. Why would I feel compelled to rise from my dark reverie and write down that one line in my journal? Maybe this is reason enough to convince me to stop thinking right before I sleep.... ummmm, yeah, like that's gonna happen. :)
Let me leave you with another great quote by me. Still on my marker board from last week's lesson on transitive and intransitive verbs:
"Teacher K ran around the block screaming like a madwoman."
(Yeah, it is intransitive...yeah, it was fun....yeah, I am a madwoman...)

Sunday, November 20, 2005

You live, you learn: Experience Prison

In the Name of Allah, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful
Each of us knows what it is like to begin something you’ve never done, to go somewhere foreign, and to experience something completely new. We know the feelings of anxiety, determination, even excitement that comes at such moments in our lives. And as with everything in this life, we must learn from our experience and take away that which will make us stronger humans, better Muslims. As I agreed to go along a trip to the Taft Correctional Facility, I was determined to do just that. However, I was unaware as to the extent that visit would affect and inspire me.

I think it was a sense of duty towards all my sisters, including my incarcerated sisters, which made me go. I had no reservations towards visiting a correctional facility. Indeed my father used to visit such facilities when I was younger and would return home the same as he went. But I never imagined that I would be of those to sign up for such an excursion. So when Sister Omaya asked me to accompany her and some other sisters to the facility, my initial thought was to make my excuses and be on my merry way. However, Allah had better plans. For how could I not go when I had no reason to stay home? What were my plans for a Sunday morning/afternoon? Could I not sacrifice a few hours of rest for extra good deeds and to show sisterly solidarity? Allah knows I need more of His blessings and sisters also. And so I feel that it was guidance from Allah that led me to Taft that Sunday morning, and it was with His blessings we were allowed to meet.
The ride to Taft, Oklahoma is a long one. Enough time to tell stories, laugh, and joke. Enough time to mentally prepare ourselves for the unknown world some of our sisters temporarily call home. But no amount of time could prepare me for the genuine happiness, the sincere joy our sisters shared as we drove to the programs building. I don’t think I have ever been hugged and kissed by any sister at our Masjid as sincerely as my sisters in Taft embraced me before they even knew my name. It was as if I were the one removed from society only to return home to them. These sisters who each wore her scarf a little differently, whose eyes sparkled though differing in colors, whose skin glowed no matter the shade, welcomed me into their arms, their world; I felt their warmth even in the small recesses of my soul.

Allah says in the Holy Quran that it is only through Him that guidance is given. He guides whom He pleases in whichever ways He pleases. And since He is the best planner, we know His ways are the best despite our limited knowledge. These sisters have faced adversity in life. They may have made their mistakes and are receiving their punishment in this life. But things are not nearly as bleak as they seem. Allah promises that even in every apparent bad thing or calamity there is good, if only we knew. They may not be in the best of all places, but Allah has blessed these sisters with guidance and mercy, even as they may receive a punishment.
Every day of our lives we face problems that may be minute or grandiose. Either we face our fears and carry on with faith in Allah’s plan, or we fall a half-step behind with ill decisions and lose a little of ourselves and our religion. After meeting the sisters of Taft, I know a little better how determination, perseverance, and a thirst for knowledge can make you a model and bring you closer to Allah.
After coming to Taft, I see how my sisters have become determined to better themselves. Whether it be completing their GED, getting a college degree, or simply coming to the religious classes offered by Muslim brothers and sisters, these sisters are determined to gain something from their time in incarceration. Allah has given them this opportunity and they have taken advantage of such a blessing.
There are times when Sister Asiya, the leader of the group, may not be able to get what she needs for the class Sister Omaya teaches, or she may reach some obstacle in her path to acquiring clearance for Ramadan or Eid activities. But as this strong sister has taught me in our short acquaintance, where there is a will, there is a way. And as she and the other sisters stand for their rights and explain their beliefs, they remain firm. Such perseverance is a true sign of great leadership and deserves respect.
“Whenever I teach her something, she comes back for more,” jokes Sister Asiya about Sister Hedaya soon after she took her Shahada. After attending classes on Islam and fasting Ramadan, Hedaya accepted Islam on Sunday, November 13. Her story is not the only one of guidance. The same day Sister Hala also said her Shahada after weeping as she watched our congregational Asr prayer. All of the sisters I met that Sunday came for the sake of Allah. Week after week they get together to seek knowledge and get closer to Allah. And I pray that He continue to guide them and bless their gathering, week after week.

Ever experience we go through offers some wisdom though we may not initially see it. Although I had no intention of visiting a correctional facility one month ago, I was sent in that direction. Even though I was sure that I would be the one to teach others about Islam, I became the student. My sisters have given me something no one but Allah can take away. They have blessed me with a glimpse into true sisterhood. They have taught me about determination and perseverance. And through their enthusiasm, I can better appreciate true thirst for knowledge.
The following Sunday I returned to Taft Correctional Facility to meet with my sisters once more. On this second visit Sister Omaya gave a brief Islamic lesson. She spoke of the Day of Judgment. She told us about the Hadiths of the Prophet (peace be upon him) and the words of Allah in the Holy Quran. She reminded us that on the Day of Judgment each of us will have our own records to worry about. On that Day each of us will fear for our own soul. But on that day their will be those upon whom Allah will shower with mercy. These believers will rest on pulpits of light even as everyone else is in fear. Each of different backgrounds, cultures, and races, they will receive such blessings even though they are neither martyrs nor prophets. They are the believers who love each other for the sake of Allah. For such love they will be safe on pulpits of light on the day of turmoil, the Day of Judgment. May Allah make us of those who strive to do what is right and refrain from what is wrong. May He bless us and guide us. And may He make us of those who love each other for His sake, resting on pulpits of light on the Day of Judgment.

Saturday, November 19, 2005

Hamsters Must Die

Just kidding...but I must do something about them. I think I shall call them Pinky and the Brain. The Brain is super smart: already escaped from the cage twice yesterday. Pinky is just happy burrowing under the pine shavings. They are trouble makers and I believe they are trying to take over the world (well, at least my room). But last night they were successful in waking me up because they were fighting.


I think I should not have put the two of them in one cage that size. Maybe it needs to be bigger. Either way, I'm kinda scared of the lil things now. Plus very angry that I have to wake up in the middle of the night to yell at them as if they were children (The teacher in me: "Cut it out!"). ;)

Friday, November 18, 2005

Happy Thoughts

Okay, no more negativity (I'll save all that for later :).

My class has two hamsters as pets now... Nice to have some kind of companionship in my life! :)

The suggestions for names thus far:

Thunder and Lightning
Tom and Jerry
Scabbers (from Harry Potter)

We'll see. I think I will have to take them home and freak my step mom out! :) I can see her face when I bring 'mice' into the house!

The Menace

A kid flushed an eraser down the toilet the other day....

Then he writes something inappropriate on my magnetic poetry board...

Then he annoys me once already today, and I'll have him for class two more times later thanks to the lack of substitutes....

He's seriously making my life stressed...

Wednesday, November 16, 2005

Bad day?

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!! I think I, no I don't. I love the lovely, awesome childen. I love my wonderful, overpaid job. *psychotic smile*

Okay, seriously: Alhamdulillah for what I got....I'm just stressed.

Bounce wit me

I haven't heard the whole thing yet.... but if I don't post it, I'll forget about it.

Islamic hip hop audio documentary:

Tuesday, November 15, 2005


I'm a teacher but I hate grading papers.

I smiled today because I got to send words far away...but I almost didn't send them.

I have a major headache because my students were loud today.

I hate it when the Principal is not here... we are too small of a school to have a Principal/teacher out... but he is sick so may Allah grant him shifa.

During my plan period, I sometimes turn off the lights in my classroom and lay on the floor to take a nap or just to chill.

I recycle gift bags... I always try to give it to a different person than the one who gave it to me in the first place.

I read to escape.

I hate going home. I would rather stay out all day.

I used to pretend that I could get radio stations in my head when I was in middle school.

I also used to have these weird 'episodes' where I would feel like someone was talking to me and my head was gonna explode...I think they were panic attacks. :(

I miss my mommy. I dreamed about her indirectly the other day. I hope she is proud of me when the angels come around each week.

I wanna fly far away. I wanna go now. I almost feel like quitting this school year although it is against my moral code.

I watched Wifeswap last night... dumb yet hilarious yet super dumb...

"Losing My Religion" by R.E.M. (I think) seems to be the song that reminds me of me the most...I think of it every once in a while.

I'm not really losing my religion, just things like "I don't know if I can do it/ oh no, I've said too much/ I haven't said enough" summarize how I feel at times.

I want to go swimming.

I think I should go snowboarding some day... The mountains, the snow...

I bought "Muslim Boarders" about Muslim Snowboarders (clever :)...supposed to be 40 minutes long, it was only 20 minutes. I feel cheated.

Kids nowadays have more 'Islamic' music, movies, and outspoken role models than ever before. Yet they are ungrateful. Or maybe because I'm now 22 I am finally grateful.

I don't like cold weather when it is cold or hot weather when it is hot.

I've never seen the ocean. I want to see the beach.

Maybe I should fly away to neverland.

If I didn't take the time to reflect, I would go crazy.

Oh Allah, thank You.
A student just walked into my room....

So have you found a guy yet?

Uhhhh....for whom?

For you, duh! Come on teacher it is easy...

It's not like you can go to a grocery store...

Yeah it is. There are guys at the grocery store.

Oh the wonderful world of Wardah. :)


I was supposed to go to the gym this morning at 5:30 but my friend couldn't meet me bc of car problems... then I am supposed to go afterschool today but I forgot my clothes... INSTEAD I'm just gonna eat my Arby's sandwich with greasy fries and a diet coke...I know: evil, pure evil.... :)

Sunday, November 13, 2005

"One's heighth in success is determined by one's depth in struggles."
-Sister Sherah Jamilah, incarcerated individual


Fragmented pieces of my heart I feel
From the child crying
Because of a desire
For what is not his
To the man as he kneels
In front of the pillar
In the Mosque on the hill.
From the children with rocks who feel
It’s the only way to survive
Either that or be killed.
From the innocent baby
Who cries for the first time
Taken from his mother’s womb
Not knowing all the while
His father was killed
By a stray bullet though
He was not on a battlefield.
From my sister with the strength
To wear hijab
On the streets of a country
Where she thought she had
The freedom to be the
Great person she is,
Little does she know
Legislation has passed
Making her ‘freer’ by
Locking her into tight jeans
And t-shirt
Making her ‘free’ from
The ‘oppression’ of the
Liberation of her religion.
From my brother with
The faith to move mountains
Who has no fear of asking
For five minutes to pray
Who cares not
Who finds him with his
Feet in the sink of
A bathroom occupied by colleagues
Who doesn’t mind being caught in
The middle of salah
As he prays for their
Souls and his.
From the young girl
As she prepares
The sweets she’ll share
With her classmates
On the day before Eid.
As she explains her
Religion and the
Beautiful things
Even a third grader can see.
From these members of my family-my Ummah
To the inner workings
Of my heart…all this
And more shall I feel
All this and more
MUST I feel in order
To be a working vessel
Of hope and love
And devotion in
This grand Ummah.
My heart is fragmented,
But loves all my
Brothers and sisters
I feel but can’t see.

TEFL (Teaching English as a Foreign Language)

I applied for a job...I applied to teach English as a foreign language in Libya. Yes, I found a job opening, I applied, and now I wait. I would LOVE to get this job. Then maybe I can finally see my extended family (whom I have never met). Maybe then I can see the land where my father grew up. Maybe then I can let go of everything I hold on to in order to stand back from others. Maybe I won't be disillusioned anymore. Maybe...

It would be nice to have Aunts and Uncles. It would be nice to know what it is really like to have cousins. It would be nice to get away from the everyday, never-changing world which is mine (although it is I who have kept it as such).

I just pray that Allah give me what is best for me in this life and the next. Ameen.

Locked up

I'm gonna visit the women's minimal security prison today. It'll be my first time going. We are having an Eid party for the incarcerated Muslimahs there. I think there have been quite a few sisters who have become Muslim after being placed in that prison. I am not scared by any means. I know that in Oklahoma we have the largest number of women in prisons for minor infractions...and these sisters have had their slates wiped clean by the deen. I hope all goes well. May Allah make it easy and enjoyable.

It's my party...I'll cry if I want to

Okay, there is no party. And I won't cry. Still can't bring myself to do that just yet. You know, I think crying is the most intimate of things I could share with a friend. I feel so weak and helpless when I cry that I could only share that with those VERY close to me. I just don't let myself cry otherwise...can't remember the last time I cried with someone... or in front of someone... but that's okay, such is life.

Thursday, November 10, 2005

Mi amiga

Maysa, you are too cool.

You are also older than two days.

Two days in a row we go to the Y.

Two pounds better have been dropped by the end of two more.

We are two cool twenty-two year olds.

Yeah, Maysa, you are too cool.

I love you, too!!!


Hijab in style

Last night I decided to try to style my hijab differently. I am sick of wearing it the same way all the time. I have been inspired to wear it differently before, but could never find a way that satisfied my desire to be modest yet stylish. But last night I managed to find a way that made me content. I am currently wearing an underscarf piece around my neck (pink). I am then wearing an oblong scarf tied around my head with the two ends are hanging over my shoulders and down the front of my jacket like a regular scarf (black with hanging threads). I looks different but nice.

My students have mixed feelings in regard to my new style:

"Nice scarf Teach!" said a fifth grade girl.

"What happened to your scarf?" said a 7th grade boy.

"Oh," said some high school girls as they take a second look. "You know, that actually looks nice."

"That's just weird!" said another 7th grade boy.

"You look nice teacher," said an 8th grader. "SIKE!"

Well, at least they noticed. :)

I'm really doing this because the girls need to realize that to be modest and covered doesn't have to be the same way for everyone. Each of us should be an individual with unique tastes. And if I like my scarf like this, more power to me.

Friends + Exercise=loss of sleep

I can't stop smiling because I actually worked out today! I can't believe it. I actually got up and active at 6 a.m. You know it is definitely one thing to wake up...and a completely different thing to actually go the Y and work out.

We did indoor bicycling today. I don't think I will do that again. I couldn't stand while biking, I couldn't jump, I couldn't even bike with much resistance. Makes me sad...I'm weak, but energized this morning.

Yesterday we did step. That was awesome. I think I could do that everyday. Well, I wasn't a good step participant, but it was still fun. I couldn't follow along the entire time (I ended up just marching in place when I couldn't get it) but it was fun to be able to do any of the steps.

You know exercise is good. Friends who make you go are also good. Loss of sleep is bad. Naps, however, are very good!

Sunday, November 06, 2005

When you wish upon a star....makes no difference who you are

As I stood in the deserted parking lot, the most amazing thing happened. I witnessed, for the first time in my life, a shooting star.

The light of something overhead caught my eye. As if a plane had caught fire and was zooming past my very eyes. As if a rainbow of one light, one color were passing through my space. As if God were sending me a message written of light and love.

I saw the light burn and sizzle into nothingness behind my car, my Masjid, my school, my world. I saw something millions of miles away remind me of things we forget. It took the death of that star to make me see the millions of other lights in the sky.

For the first time in my life, I saw a shooting star. For the first time, I breathed in both fear and hope while standing in the presence of life forgotten.

A shooting star: a magnificent reminder.


Thursday, November 03, 2005

Eid Kareem


*happy dance* *happy dance*

Allahu Akbar
Allahu Akbar
Allahu Akbar
La illaha Illa Allah

Allahu Akbar
Allahu Akbar
Allahu Akbar
Wa lillahill hamd

God is the Greatest
God is the Greatest
God is the Greatest
There is no god but Allah

God is the Greatest
God is the Greatest
God is the Greatest
And to Allah belongs Praise

Saying this in the morning on the way to the Masjid is my favorite childhood memory of Eid. Although I despised it as a teenager (anything we did as a fam for a while was worthy of being despised in the eyes of a teen), I now miss reciting it with my dad if we take more than one car...but I keep the tradition alive in my car (despite the complaints of my teenaged brothers :) ....

*happy dance*

I don't want to see your heart breaking

“Don’t turn around
I don’t want ya to see my heart breaking
Don’t turn around
I don’t want ya seeing me cry
Just walk away
…followed by words I don’t remember…
I’m letting you go
…and I don’t remember these either…”

Great old song…I don’t know what it’s called (possibly “Don’t turn around”) or who it’s by (some chick singing if I remember correctly), but it just came to me outta the blue. Well, it’s kind of related to something I wanted to write though. It’s a theory I’m putting out there (from my head to my blog at which point it will then be reinforced into my brain for further regurgitation).

One cannot love or like strongly and so quickly change their position without remorse and regret. And above all, one will eventually develop deep hope and strong inclination towards reconciliation. I have made this my theory on life and plan to study it in the actions of others. In my own situations I find this true whether it is something trivial or otherwise. I wonder if I am a rarity (more like my dorky self is weird) in this position or my idea is the norm.

I have other theories: high self-esteem and self-assurance is the most attractive thing a woman can possess and demonstrate; the more enthusiastic a leader is about a situation, the more receptive his/her audience/target will be (this works for teachers and students and has proven true in my cases); fat and happy is a much better philosophy than thin and mean (ummm….that’s how I chose to live anyway J). I know there are many other theories floating around in my head, but they are there for a rainy day here in the wonderful world of blog. And even my here writ theories are so contingent on everyday life and the world at large that each one could very easily take up an individual blog entry. But alas, I am called to the world of hectic-last-minute-cooking in the kitchen where my lovely stepmom is patiently awaiting my assistance in the preparation of Eid goodies. And so I am off my fair blog…but fear not for I shall return…

Now that I look that over, I went from weird, to serious (in a weird way), to weirder (in a seriously weird way). I wonder why? I really wanted to be serious! But how can one be serious? It’s Eid!

Tuesday, November 01, 2005

More than an individual...but what?

The other night was probably the worst night I have had in my life. All things I assume to be true are none other than deception. Why bother with all that trouble?

If something should go awry, I don’t want to know. Alhamdulillah, I take initiative. Alhamdulillah, I can take control and manage a problem. But, subhanAllah, with such control and knowledge comes much responsibility. I don’t wish for it anymore…I don’t seek it anymore…Simply walk in the other direction should something occur. Ignorance is bliss so they say. And indeed in those words lies the truth of the matter: to know is to act. But how does one act? How should I handle the situation?

Everything is questioned. He has made me question my own mental ability, my senses, my being. I feel guilty when I have done nothing wrong…I feel guilty for having caught the one red-handed who feels no obvious guilt. But I did nothing wrong…maybe my handling of the situation is my fault…maybe this is my downfall…but I did nothing wrong…

I don’t want to know…I would rather not have the knowledge of corruption…For to know means to understand it. And if I must understand it, I must correct it by every means available. And to do so takes so much power and courage. And to do so, one must acknowledge that Allah has given him/her that ability…and I fear that to do so leads to arrogance. I fear I am already among those lost in the uppity world of arrogance. I fear.

Do not come to me with the problem. I have my own. And for you to bring me more only makes it harder. I must stay busy…I do more than I can just to stay busy so as not to think it through. But I cannot sleep for fear of arrogance or guilt of innocence. I cannot rest my eyes for hope penetrates not the dark shadows of my mind nor the dark spots upon my heart.

And so my secret lies within me…it is not my secret really, but rather the dark secret of someone else who I know wishes I did not. But with this secret deep inside me, this restless demon, comes fear and pain. Fear for myself and my own shortcomings. Pain as a result of the knowledge of the shortcomings and failed tests of others.

And now the tears fall…now when I wish to remain a fortress, I cry. I drove by myself, I cried. I talked to someone, I cried as I turned my face elsewhere. I looked at myself in the mirror, I cried. And now I type the words that haunt me, and I cry not. Now that I wish to tear down all walls of false strength, I cry not. I have become someone else…I am no longer me.

I need to tell this to someone. But I would tell it to no one. There are those closest to me that I could tell, but no one I would hate enough upon whom I would share my burden. I know of only one who I would even consider telling, but I cannot call that person. I know of only one who would listen though unable to console, but I cannot speak these words. I fear what I write because it no longer follows one thread of thought…but neither does my mind. I hate…and I fear this hatred. I hate this knowledge that I have of late….I now know what it means to be an individual.
I have no one to stand by my side. No one to lean upon in times of need. No one can answer for my actions. No one will come to my aid. No soul shall seek my reward and none shall beg for my punishment. To be an individual, I only must do what is right for me. To be an individual, I must acknowledge that others think not as I do. To be an individual, I must stand alone and lonely.

I wish to be more than just an individual.

The other night was probably the worst night of my life. But tonight proves to be a night of unrestrained reflection. My problem does not diminish by these thoughts but the murky waters of my mind have temporarily become an area where a glimpse of the soil below becomes momentarily clear. The soul within has become momentarily clear.