Fighting the hole

As I spread my hands before me, with Your many names upon my lips fervently hung over Your attributes of Forgiveness, Giving, Listening, Answering, Knowing, Seeing, Hearing, All Ableness, and so much more... I fixate on the spot that looks like a hole. I see around that hole blessings abound; so many that I cannot count them one by one in thanks... but, I thank You for each and every one of them as only You would Know Best and hopefully Accept. But, the eyes... these woefully-possessed-as-if-uncontrollable-eyes keep getting drawn back to that one speck, which is not a mole, and keep looking at it as a black hole. It seems to have a fluctuating depth of hollow never-endingness or perhaps just a slight bend on the road of many gifts, depends on which state of peace the heart is in. As the soul fervently focuses on thanks and gratitude and humility, the eyes are perturbed by whispers of the devil... the nafs... the humanness? Which, I'll never know. But as the focus comes upon it, in all it's ebbs and flows, all it keeps looking at is that one blessing I could not get to hold on to. It came into my life plenty of times, but only to tempt me, make me weak, ungrateful, and so frustrated... because I could not hold on to it. It keeps piercing into the abyss trying to pull itself out of it, and in the struggle of the jump and the pull, it tires itself of the screams that are it's own recriminations. It slumps into the wet mess of it's own tears and continues thanking The All Knowing Able One Who has Made me who I am, to live the tests that have been written down for me, and hope not to fail, and hope to keep surfacing back up with thanks... For if the gratitude were to be lost, so would all hope of sanity and a blessed Eternity. Ya Ar Rahman Ar Raheem, Ya Ghafoor Ar Kareem - please Hold me as I feel like I am drowning... If You Save me not, I will drown myself in my tears. Please Hush my hankerings and Take me away from my human needs and wants that will suffocate me without Your Intervention. My salvation lies only in Your Holding me and Sufficing me. I plead You to Hold me and Suffice me. Ameen, Ya Dhall Jalaali Wal Ikram.




*Written to Sange Saboor playing out in the background. My Lord being my only Pillar of Patience whereupon I stop to cry.

Aspiring to not plead, but be offered...

The weary pendulum keeps swaying back and forth in between making a resolute decision one day and having debilitating questions foam back up to the point of drowning me on another. Words spoken keep coming back of their own accord; haunting me. It doesn't make sense for the one to have said such things, albeit in only a half attentive part sleepy state, but for one to simply disappear mid-throbbing-conversation...? It is a whole another ask of me to leave where one is not wanted. But, to leave where one was assured they are dearly wanted... this, this is an unkind thing to be asked to do.

'Are you trying to figure out how to do this, or are you precariously bordering on an unappetising form of stalking?'

Surely making dua'as for a person's well being absolves me or my actions of being saddled with a negative label. If only the road blocks would be removed, and the walls of silence pierced... Perhaps then some answers could be found to appease the roaring ravaged mind that is left in the wake of this storm. The soul refuses to back down and sit in silence. Amidst prayer it needs to also do all it can before it must accept failure and lay down to rest all it's arms, in order to find some semblance of peace.

''You should not have to plead, you deserve to be offered.'' This keeps playing back in my mind, over and over on repeat.

Inn Allaaha Ma'as Saabireen. Allahu Musta'an. Allahumma Antas Salaam.

''Allah is the Protector of those who believe. He brings them out from darkness into light.''
(Al-Quran 2:257)

''Oh Allah, place within my heart light, and upon my tongue light, and within my ears light, and within my eyes light, and place behind me light and in front of me light and above me light and beneath me light. O Allah, Bestow upon me light.''

Ameen.

Tether Ye Were Not It Seems

The real test begins when you pine in silence, in between prayer, your own audience, and your tears. When you console yourself that The One Who Listens to all, can hear you. When you pray ever more fervently that He will Help you through this because He has a Plan better for you than you can understand. As you traverse the lanes of memories that will be evoked at random, of words shared, of likes and dislikes, of shared emotions and opinions and wishes, every stroke of that uninvited memory will grate at your patience and hankerings. You will break, shatter, crumble, moan, and hold yourself. You will try to breathe in and breathe out as calmly as the moment will allow it, and not let yourself remain on the ground. You will pick yourself back up again. You know how to do this. Life has been a constant practice of doing just this. There are so many compartments that have been designated to demons conquered. You know you can do this. Yes, there will be times of weakness, when questions will haunt you and make you wonder what it was that you could have done otherwise. Yes, there will be times of sadness when you will imagine how beautiful things could have been if only you were not hoping on things alone, but you are. Hoping on things alone. And alone, you can only do so much. So it is best to keep letting go of what has left you. Chasing it is every kind of painful and will leave you ever more so profoundly alone. Hug your soft covers, your pillows, your cushions and be thankful for having these blessings. The blessings that many others don't. So what if they aren't as warm as an actual body. So what if they don't hold you back. At least they offer some comfort as opposed to none. The privacy of your room allows you to relive things in peace. It allows you to cry and pray and beg your Maker in ways where you are free to turn your insides out and pour your grief out to Him unabashedly. Be grateful that your Maker permits you to use His words, His praises, His names, and reach out to Him. In grief many have lost their way. Be grateful you know how to respond to your grief. You are alone, but never so without Him being with you always. He may not be the body that your body was made to crave. But He is your Maker and He will bring you out of this new pain. He will help you fashion a new compartment for this fresh loss and He will Help you get through the prickly path where the roses of words shared will tempt and entice you with their scents, as well as prick you with the thorns of their impermanence, their transient visit into your life; Brief, oh so unreal, surreal, call it whatever you may, but that's what it was. The roses were never meant for eternity. Let the memory of that scent fade away, because if it were meant to stay, it would have found a home within the confines of your precious book, to leave a permanent ink of it's form, or a debris of it's existence, albeit more delicate in it's dried out form, but a presence nonetheless. It's existence would have been proof of it's commitment, and you have nothing but static that typed itself out via a format of numbers and words. It was a binary, a code... human? No one knows because experience tells you many humans come in the most mechanical forms just to short circuit your entire being, with intentions of passing time where you are the toy that gathered their attention for now. You are not a tether for no camel. Only Allah Knows what you are because at most times usually, you are quite a susceptible fool. Your one worthy trait is that at least you can pray. Always be grateful for that. Pray to Him to make you more resilient and more alert to the dangers of those who wish to rouse your heart and feelings with no intentions to stick around and honour you. Honouring things takes more heart and strength of character than what most of this world is capable of offering. So be careful and save yourself before another fall. Your injuries sustained thus far may be plentiful, but you have so much to be grateful for. Just never let go of that. Sabr and Shukr will get you through this life always. Never let go of them. Wash yourself of the pain you feel right now and stand back up in prayer. When your head bows down; weep, and when you rise back up; breathe, and when you are done; savour that moment of inexplicable peace. May He The Most Loving, always be enough for you. Ameen.

The missing Rib?

The news keeps telling me there is unrest where you are... My mind thinks about the effects of that, alongside the effects of thoughts of you in my heart here, where it mysteriously pinches and bites. Physically, you nor I can see it. What hurts is knowing that right now in this I am alone. I can pray and find spiritual sanctuary, but my physical form aches to reach out and bridge this distance fast. It wants to walk unruffled, beside the havoc of the strung-out world on display, preciously held within the calm surreal black succour you offered. What you offered may live inside my head for however long it is meant to breathe, as only Allah swt Knows Best. What I beg for, screaming with my insides on fire in my agonising struggle alone, is that promised Mwaddah wa Rahmah, followed by a precious coolness of the eyes, and heart, and mind, and being, insha'Allah ta'Allah. I need more grace than what others see in me, or preach at me. On either ends of that measure I find myself lacking. Take me to him, Ya Allah, whose rib you fashioned me from. My bones wish to be reunited. My being wishes to find home in those arms. My head wishes to rest upon that chest. My heart wishes to hear the synonymous beat. My insides twist with wishes upon wishes not knowing whether this tide will throw itself upon my shore or recede apologetically like all other tides, never to return. One day my shore too will not be left dry. InshaAllah, Ameen.

Demons of Their Past

All it took was a picture of you in baby blue and white.

It pierced through the cemented walls
The grave I thought was permanent, shattered open.
Rose back out Alexander the great,
Arousing the hairs on the back of everything alive
To stand up and scream
To brace themselves and shriek in agony
From unwelcome memories.
Go back to sleep please.
Go to Italy, Go back to Germany,
San Francisco, Brazil, Goa, Juhu,
Go where ever it is that love embraces you
And wear that ring proud
It shines so bright
As did the prospect of you and I once
But that was an embryo that was miscarried long ago.
The placenta has been laid down to rest
So now please let the lens of the other
Shoot you in your glamour in privacy
There is no room for this view I have of you
in my suggested feed, on the right, under a post,
or an invite of an add request from another brother.
Go away; I know you never wanted to
I pushed the doors closed and I left you screaming in the dark
But that darkness was all enveloping
And it was a salve that needed to be applied
The scrapes were blistering and the wound was deepening
The pain would never go away so the pill had to be gulped
And years later it seems the effects have begun wearing thing
So I turn to an empty page and scream into this empty night
And tell the song ringing in the background to truly fade away
For Where you are now is of no use to me.
The monsters only know how to run wild
And the torment of years ago needs to rest.
Crushing what was real and breathing
For I am not prepared to have to do it again.
I can’t. You can’t. We can’t.
It was never meant to be
So please take your baby blue and white
And leave my breath alone.
I need to let it all be faded.
No shadows. No etchings. Nothing.
The water will always haunt me
But that is also truly where I find
Some semblance of a salvation.
Ya Allah – You are The Effacer.
Please Cleanse me and Hold Me.
For you I walked away and I desperately
need You to Efface me and Love me!
Ameen.

When Everything Aches

Every part of me feels broken, inside out. Heal all of us who are broken, Ya Allah. Only You Know how. Protect us from all that is evil around us. Only You Know what we need saving from. Ameen Ya Rabb Al Ameen.

Fighting Despair

When I look to the world it brutally crushes my hopes and tells me all about how 'this' isn't possible and 'that' will never happen. Then I remind myself of The Maker of all things and I shout out, ''Ya Lateef! Ya Jabbar! Ya Fattah, iftah alayy! Oh the Most Subtle One, The Compeller, The Opener of all doors and gates, and everything else, please Open up my way! I ask not of the world whose people tell me of all things impossible! I ask You, O Creator of all things, You for Whom nothing is impossible! Please send me that which my heart is too afraid to put into words to ask of You, forever seeking right words and never being able to form them; Please send to me from Your infinite bounties a beautiful patience, contentment, peace, happiness and gratefulness in all forms and things of this life; Please send upon me Your infinite Mercy and Khair; I am your heedless forgetful wanting creation begging You to never Forsake me, and to Fill me up in the places that feel empty and bereft of Your Blessings; Please Hold me close Ya Wudood, The Most Loving, Oh Alllah! Allahumma Ameen.''

Families and Celebrations

Some families come together to celebrate while some families forever wait to come together to celebrate. Some families celebrate together. Some families try to forget what isn't right and work on celebrating together. Both families pray. Only Allah swt Knows how to fix what feels not right. May He Heal and Uplift both families. Ameen.

Leela; Where I Paused, Breathed, and Prayed

I sit here tonight, my last night here insha’Allah for the foreseeable future. Tears stream down my face, for it is not just tonight, but every night that I need to be more grateful. It has been ever more heavy on my heart where I feel that I am unable to express my gratitude to my Lord. I have moments of no emotion and thoughts, while I live my now – and my now, when I stop to think about it, is grand and splendid and everything rich. It is my blessing. It is my now. Am I making the most of it? Am I being grateful enough? Have I taken advantage of it as I was meant to? Has it given me peace and contentment? Am I looking deeper into in a now that is not any deeper than I have already reached? Why am I feeling like I am missing something? I ache from a fear that I may be doing something wrong? I deliberately am not. I consciously am trying to do all things right. I pray I am not wasting my grace. I pray I am doing justice with the share that I have been endowed with and blessed with. I am surrounded by splendor and majesty; in spirit and in manifest glory. I am in the middle of it. Every ounce of me, when it just stops and feels, overwhelms itself to tears. Tears seem to have become my expression of happiness, joy, reaction to beauty, sadness, responses to pain, brokenness, and everything else in between. Are tears going to be my salvation as I tread forward onto a shaken path, finding myself again? If nothing else, I pray my eternity will remove all doubt and shower me with a union of unparalleled peace and happiness. I want to be grateful for everything else until then. I pray my fallen grace never fails to get back up and say thanks. I pray my hope never bleeds out. I pray that the overwhelming questions go to sleep and wake up to answers that will stand sturdy, take my hand, and all will be alright. Insha’Allah. Oh Allah, please accept my thanks, for everything. For every moment and thing and person who helps me remember You more. Please bless them. I love You.

Forgiveness of Sins

I wear my sins upon my skin,
as it breaks and peels about me,
This disgrace I accept...
With every wear and tear of my bones,
I wilt within, remembering
the roads of folly and brave naivette
that they chose to walk upon,
Their weakness I accept...
This heart, this soul,
and all the memories
which they begrudgingly encapsulate
I writhe in pain from them being evoked
For in my power their dousing
does not work,
dismembering each segment
of how when and why they surfaced
the mind to its fate surrenders
and the soul that in its myriads
had fornicated,
lies naked and begging to be
wiped clean, be washed,
and be purified of all memories
that come alight when a random
story is being told
and it’s masked glory is
shining like soldered gold...
For a jaded heart and its sordid mess
has no place for promises
that lied and tore
as they unabashedly caressed
the surface clean and left it disgustingly black.
Forever scrubbing...
washing...
scraping...
peeling...
wishing to undo the layers,
of stench and hell
that each memory played
on its beaten mattress
Upon which the soul laid down
and recoiled…
I close my eyes; shut them very tight
And my lips fervently beg.
My soul travels till where
You, my Lord, will allow it go
in its sleep or when awake
and my soul continues
to throw itself upon Your Walls
and burns in hope for your Mercy
That one day this soul of mine
will be freed; totally cleansed
like a new born baby,
and with Your Permission
the heart will beat again.
With Your Permission
it will breathe again.
With Your Permission
the soul will be granted
entry into Your Haven
and will thence never fall again.
Inna lillahi wa inna ilaihi rajioon.
To God; Allah, we belong
and to Him is our return.

When it rained in Makkah...

I saw pictures today, of the Ka’aba in Makkah… with water pouring down all its sides, and then pictures of Makkah being flooded...

My mind filled up with thoughts of how I last saw the mosque under heavy construction and renovations, just over 2 weeks ago myself – and my imagination ran awry with a barrage of what if scenarios; of what torrential rain could do in terms of wreaking havoc upon the many pilgrims and the hundreds upon hundreds of people visiting the Holy Mosque. My mind went into fast forward, crying instantly… worrying about how all these people from afar put their hearts and savings into bringing themselves to this House of Allah, to pour their hearts out and beg for mercy and miracles – and how they would be greeted with this hardship, making it ever more so hard… so hard because they won’t be able to pray surrounded by so much water… so hard because every ritual would become tougher and more testing… and in that short moment when I came upon this news, I started searching the internet for videos.

 The first one I found showed people praying in the puddles of water surrounding the Ka’aba, as if there was nothing out of place… I saw this and it made me want to cry even more – while my younger sister, watching from beside me said – ‘‘Think about how their dua’s are being granted as they make them – because not only are they in the House of Allah, but they’re praying while it’s raining!’’ and I thought – subhaanAllah… we really focus on things from such different places… we – the people i.e.

Then later in the day, I came upon a post from one of my favourite teachers::

‘‘The first thing, the last thing, and indeed everything that my teacher taught me, can be summarized as: always be grateful to the Lord. After the shocking floods in Makkah yesterday, I called him:

Me: Shaykh, are you ok?

Shaykh: We are drowning in His Mercy, not in the flood.

Allahumma lakal hamd ya Rabb, always and forever.’’

We – the people, have so much more to learn, so far to go… May our Lord give us patience, resilience and grace through the toughest of times, and may He bless us to be forever grateful, come snow, wind, hail, rain or shine – in all aspects of our lives – Allahumma Ameen wa lakal hamd wa la hawla wala quwwata illa billa wa la illaha illAllah wa AllahoAkbar

I'll wait till 2020...

That year was 2010

When no more thoughts of ‘they’ I’d pine

I’d give in to the decree of His Chime

Whatever cometh my way here forth

With patience I’d persevere their force

And only to Him I would then turn

And ask for every moment’s burn

To be healed and recompensed in full

I’d wait till 2020 to see

How empty or full this stance shall have been

May the Lord make it easy – Ameen.

That Shore Where...

My Lord, please…

Take me to a shore that allows me to float upon it, take my time, and come to a semblance of some rest…

Take me over to a bridge that stands around me, gives me strength, and saves me from tipping myself and falling over...

Take me to a road that can bear the weight of me upon it, and allow me to walk straight on to a place where I seem to need to go…

To a house that is built with walls of sturdiness, with boulders of peace, cemented with an abundance of mercy…

Give me a heart serene and calm, that sees beauty in all things - and if not - it still tries very hard to…

Give me eyes that are not mere tools which judge all that is unfamiliar and new…

Take me to a place where the shore will let me float about it, and hold me close to its bosom…

Where I will have come home, and all will be right with everything…

Insha’Allah; Ameen.

To One Day...

SubhaanAllah – Glory be to Allah!

To one day hear that all was not futile,

To know that the heart can now rest

and all the tests are over,

The weights have been lifted,

The measures recorded,

The road ahead clear and sharp,

The walk ahead easy and quick,

To know that the wait is finally over,

To be on the other side,

And look back in wait to see

Who else from your loved ones

Will be joining you; freed

To stand my ground

And breathe in the most beautiful scents

To look around and see 

All the beautiful souls at peace

To be absolutely happy

The likes of which 

Could never be imagined

To hear my Lord say – Go!

Your sins have all been forgiven

And to Heaven is thy decree

And in Heaven shall thee reside!

SubhaanAllah – Glory be to Allah!

To hear those words be uttered to me,

To have them etched beyond just in my heart

To have them actually be made my reality

My heart and soul, mind, body and everything

It truly pines, and it awaits its destiny

In forbearance and repentance

In hope and in faith

It thrives and it waits

Inn Allaaha ma’a’Saabireen

For indeed, Allah is with

The patient ones.

Ameen.

A Child's Resilience Versus An Adult

A child’s resilience versus mine-
He got screamed at
and he stubbornly stood his ground
while I silently in a lone corner
wiped my tears away;
Helplessly.

Screams and shouts often reverberate
off these walls, directed at
somebody or another
a child or a mother
These booming voices; this noise
I wish to obliterate.

A calm serene habitat
Too much to ask for, on this earthen mat?
Bow and prostrate, repeat and repeat
With an urgency inexplicable
I supplicate as I speak 
To the creator of this mess.

''Illegal Workers''

Strewn about like discarded garbage,
Lined up like sticks under a tent,
Scattered around where ever land would allow them.
Human bodies with souls under duress,
Where to are they headed?
Their destinies remain awaiting a call to their fate.
Brought into this land by means unknown,
Doing day to day jobs and saving some for their own,
But now no more, for those doors are announced closed.
Lifeless bodies, lying in distressed fatigue,
Resting their bodies for another day of shrieks,
Hoping for their slate to get swiped clean.
Will they return home to better tomorrows?
Will they be able to make it with some dignity left?
Or will another loan shark take control of their debts?
Allahu musta’aan! Allahu musta’aan! Allahu musta’aan!
Allah is Whom we seek help from, Allah only can help!
May He bring ease to their state and situation;
Ameen.

Lonesome Thoughts

As she sat there traversing pages, she consoled her lonely heart; for that ear that could not hear, for that hand that could not hold, for that shoulder that could not be leaned against, for that person whose presence could not be shared… To find reason, to find a purpose, to find peace in sharing the beauty that can be and the beauty that is this life – for there can be only so much beauty that can be shared alone, supplicating to its Maker. He Himself put the need in her human body – and so to Him she turned and asked for Help. Oh Allah – make it permeate and reach to the core where it is most profoundly awaited – Your peace and contentment, through your gifts: the feeling of being whole – Ameen!

A Place Somewhere Near 'You'

You know the pain I live; I’m speaking to You, my Maker. The Fashioner of it all; start to finish, and all the in betweens’. I am imploring, beseeching, continuously crushing this heart’s screeching – the pain sometimes feels like it will explode – but You stop it from crumbling, and therefore to You it continues to turn to… Please my Lord suspend these needs and abate their transient hollowness. Make this heart, mind, body, and soul strong enough for the lessons that are intertwined in all that happens - To and Fro. The ride gets too rough, and only You are the balance that can keep it steady or afloat. Please my Lord extend your Hold – for my hands are outstretched waiting, and You’re my only constant Hope – from dawn to midnight, my only companion through the sun, rain, dust storms and star lights. This lonesome walk, rejected reputation desperately needs Your Assurance – That the sea will part and a way will show; That the fire will cool and the heat will be no more; That I will get out of the well alive; That the Whale will blow me out of its belly; And that on Your ship I will survive the storm of this life as it carries me to a shore of Permanence somewhere near You – where there will be no pain, no expectations, no heartache, no loneliness no more – insha’Allah; Ameen.

Away From The Hubbub

                                                         Listening and watching in silence

To all that's happening; she then sighs

Questioning herself to find a balance

To not respond in angry sarcasm

Others actions remain beyond her control

Managing emotions; crushing moans and groans

Adulation of things that will die

Eternity being mocked, as if a lie

Fusion of fashions, loud and aglow

Discussion of religion 

As if at a performance or a show

The clock keeps on ticking

Days on end keep slipping

Years roll into a decade

Where is it that she is headed?

Turning to the only Steady she knows

Throws herself into a bow on the floor

Supplicating for the gaps to fill

And not let her heart escape its till

Sanctimonious worship will get no one by

The soul has to join the heart as it cries

Reaching out to a seemingly oblivion

Allowing hope to sing and be ridden

On a glorious glimmering black stallion 

To a place that can only be God’s Haven…

Insha’Allah – Ameen.

Indeed My Lord Is With Me, He Will Guide Me