Showing posts with label Enforced Interest-Interest Piqued. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Enforced Interest-Interest Piqued. Show all posts

Tuesday, 22 August 2017

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.


Monday, 21 August 2017

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.

Saturday, 19 August 2017

The Interim Betwixt; Real or a Lie?

Were you a capricious whim, a fallacy?
Were you an embodiment of my wants and your wants?
Of your comings and goings should I not question your verity?
The chasms of my experience with such emotional feed
is a gaping proof of error of judgements borne of deprived needs.
Time is proof, Time is a salve, Time is testing,
Every second, every minute, every hour.
May the constant questioning of my own sanity
versus a beautiful patience and a belief in all things good,
Yet again, come and sing it's soothing rhyme
allowing the chants and motions to do a slow dance,
and let the heart beat in peace,
always at the behest of it's Maker Infinite.

Thursday, 17 August 2017

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.

Monday, 14 August 2017

Such a Brief Picking of 'Nuts'



You saw the crimson in the sky and thought of me... Now I will wipe away tears at any sight of the colour crimson, or a sun setting scene somewhere, anywhere, or just a static bleeding horizon in real life or pictures. Were the raven-crows flying away from it, or into it? This shall remain a mystery, as shall knowing whether black was actually succour or just a swift and sudden unexpected cloak of painful gloom.

Saturday, 1 March 2014

Escapism...



''... She wished to blow a bubble... nice, big and roomy... all around herself, and get it to be pushed off into the atmosphere, where it would float above and away from all things and people that she knew. In that bubble, she'd be allowed to be herself, and that would be okay with the bubble... and nothing else would ever matter again...''

Friday, 17 May 2013

The Wait...

Agnes Obel - Just So : Lyrics

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Enticed by a glimmering hope you rise, out of the slumber you had been existing in, awoken to dreams anew. You dared, you waited, you fumbled, and you stood still while reality dawned. Crestfallen, you raised your eyes to the sky, you cried your heart out to He Who designs all things, you found solace in the peace His remembrance gave your heart, and you calmed down.

Peace… some peace had embraced your heart, soothed your mind, wiped away your tears, and promised you to wait some more before starting to dream again. There was still a lot that needed to be washed off and cleaned before those dreams could become a reality…

Perhaps.

La Hawla Wala Quwwata Illa Billah…
La Hawla Wala Quwwata Illa Billah…
La Hawla Wala Quwwata Illa Billah…





*La Hawla Wala Quwwata Illa Billah - There is no might nor power except the One God.

Sunday, 6 May 2012

Her Existence


It's a projection.                                                                     
Standing aside, 
Moving along, 
Drifting around, 
Strung out, and... 
Seldom adorned.


It's a shadow.
Of yesterdays gone,
When things were deeply mourned,
Happiness was ostentatiously celebrated,
Where matters were imminently important,
and not all worth feeling for, stood mostly dissipated.


It's a blandness.
Wishful respites,
Existing despite,
Thankful abounds,
For that, and...
All decreed.

Saturday, 17 March 2012

Jaded

This post has been inspired by the song, I don't feel it anymore - by William Fitzsimmons...





I don't feel it anymore. Much of anything mostly offlate. It was all taken away? I lost it on the way? It's not here, where it matters anymore - and that's what matters. I don't feel it anymore; the care, the worry, the need - I don't see it anymore. Anything. Much of everything - it's all just flitting on by. 20 years and then, 10. Come and gone. I was young once. No more; I certainly don't feel it anymore. No reason to make me try, want to just more than get on by. Nothing to spur me on, better myself... For myself it is this way or that - who cares? Not I, I don't see much of anything anymore. I used to feel once, but it's certainly not so now, no more do I, for you've all taken it all away. The little glimmers of possibility that take life in my heart are put off like a candle just lit but drenched by rain. The down pour has become infertile. No more do the tears release the pain. It locks itself in and seems too afraid to breathe even. I've hurt for quite some time now, and I don't think all that time will ever be returned. To hope for a happiness in anything certain, seems not to be happening; it is to be taken away, just like all things else here, in this now and in this today. Leave it all, I wish for, to remove myself from everything and find peace in not feeling anything anymore. I'm fine. I don't need to feel or see any of it - any way.

Every time there remains a longing. I realise, I had fooled myself, but now time is up again - must come back to reality. Reality is the mother of all things hollow, painful, resounding those two traits over and over in order to achieve a complete cycle of pain and it's many myriads. You're still typing the angst out of an empty vessel, that wishes to bemoan a thousand and one things, but is lost with words not enough - perhaps words precise - to narrate itself. This is a longing pining to be filled. This is a pang longing to be fulfilled. This is an anguish hardly unleashed, barely assuaged of what it wishes to achieve. Buries itself in prayer and meditation; Dhikr. Ups and downs, to's and fro's. Redundant rebounds, absolute - paramount; Alas bare and vagabond. I confirm to nothing. Not I, nor my being. I only submit to the Will of the One, and His spin wishes me to swirl some more reels of lessons down pat, before I can breathe my last. With in these spins I have to find my smile, and mean it. With in these spins I have to unwind. The doubtful possible will be made possible - and on that note I shall end this diatribe, a rant even. 

I don't need to feel anything else, anymore - You, they, Hey, go on - take it all away, for I don't feel it anymore. The wait on for eternity will keep me going, nothing else from any of you do I need to feel something, only for it to go again. It did before, and it will - that is the only certainty. So just leave me with my thoughts, jaded as they and I together may seem. I don't need to feel anything, anymore. I will wait for that certainty, I will wait, certainly - I will wait forever more...

         

Tuesday, 11 October 2011

As Good As Gone?

The Weepies - Same Changes


Today I am sad over something I never had. I hate you PMS, go away because you don't even let me pray and you always lead me astray. I really don't like you. It's always lonely here with you. I don't want the company of your tears. I want peace back in my heart. These last few weeks have been beautiful and I want that peace back please. Please...

Monday, 12 September 2011

Not Poor, Not Hopeless, Not Dead

The Piano Guys



It gushes forth on repeat... this froth of loneliness... this marinated blah-ness that perhaps takes birth from an emptiness... an emptiness that is bred through a vicious cycle of not knowing who I am, as opposed to who I want to be, and think myself to already being. Music, movies, pictures; all in their own stead try to bring to me a peace, not very long lived albeit. Words; read or written too, do only so much. What remains at the end of it all is still a me, by myself, desperately holding on to chants that beseech The One God in Whose Existence I leave my sanity to mould as He so Deems right. Perhaps that time - my time - is yet to come, for today it definitely was not here; yet again. In the mystery of this riddle I bequeath myself, empty but not poor - miserable but not hopeless - tired but alas, not dead.

 ~ Alhumdulillahe Rabbul Al Ameen, Ar Rahman Ar Raheem, Malike Yaumid-deen, Iyya Kanaá Budu Wa Iyya Kana'astaeén, Ahdin Asiratul Mustaqeem, Siratul A'dheena Anumta Alayhim, Ghairil Ma'gh'dhube Alayhim, Walad-daálleen... 


- Ameen! Ameen! Ameen!

Monday, 29 August 2011

My Tempestuous Mystery

You are, a whisper sought through lonely nights
You are, the warm embrace that would hold me tight
You are, the amalgamation of my every fantasy
You are, for what today these eyes remain still searching
For you are, in every breathing moment of mine; Missing
And you are, unusurped yet...
My unmasked tempestuous mystery.

Monday, 4 July 2011

Not For Me Or I...

I closed my eyes, and there you were. A distant dream, very mirage like picturesque. A touch beyond surreal you were. Before imagined, not real, not reel. I closed my eyes, and gone you were. An imagination, or true yesterday? I know not now of then when spent. I closed my eyes, and someone's there. A distant whim of wishes, a moments glimmer, a hushed fear. I close my eyes, and try not to care. I hope unabashedly, but my lips are too scared; for it never before happened and what if again it is to be so? Thus closed, leave them to remain shall I. No fear to fester, no tear for lack of gesture. No, not for a lack of you and I. No, not for me or I.

Thursday, 23 June 2011

Left Behind to Stand the Test of Time

When did I get left behind
Standing tall through these winds of time
Watching with a smile as two hearts met
And on their journeys they got swept
With every day and its passing time
Fewer remained and thinned out stood your line
Those you could speak to and whom you'd understand
Remained far from plenty
And only you in your heart bore the knowing of lonely times...

But give up shall not I
Until this heart heaves, I must not cry
For a plan resolute was made by The All Knowing
And in His Knowledge my trust I should be showing
  As in His Decree is all good unseen
And only patience bequeathes its release
So in its wait with lips hushed from trembling
This heart shall sit in rest, to the self murmuring
Until time reveals what for me He has inscribed in stone as this world's Life...

InshaAllah, Ameen~

Tuesday, 21 June 2011

She Got Left Behind?

When did it happen
This; that she got left behind,
The race for some time now
had already started,
And she had most certainly
Never gotten out of the line...

Alas...

Destiny had it's own plans;
Recorded on its tablet of time
She was meant to be here
Weathering storms or whatever
Life was life; morose not for long
Being thankful was the real test of time.



Friday, 10 June 2011

To Be Awakened Again...

These faint murmurs whispering, deep inside somewhere, leave the vista blank. Discharged batteries is what the self seems to be running on, refusing to spark up a sputter more. Coughing up a semblance of courage to hope on untrod grounds is becoming a little too tasking as the days pile on by wearily; weary is left the heart, as weary is left the body in all's wake. The mind refuses to entirely cave in just yet.  

What is it that your prayers speak? 

Sometimes I don't know how I got here, except for a surety in knowing it had something to do with my own choices - except that I cannot seem to find a bridge sturdy enough to bank on, between that me and the me now.  

When did the bridge come undone? Could it not be mended? Does it really wish to be so? 

To what avail, know not I,
But for now lay these murmurs to rest must I,
For slumber harkens out loud to be tended to thus.
Perchance in a dream I shall awaken again...

Monday, 23 May 2011

Resilience Through A Reminisce?

Rihanna:
 


The things we do for attention
For a little moment in which to be noticed
All for what?
A test after test after test after test...
This too shall pass
It all has to date
You too shall become a memory
Hopefully to fade faster
Now that time has given us
Ample practice to weather such storms and breezes
Or just a slight draft even
Frail no more shall we be!
Force ourselves to be sturdy
Brush our shoulders we shall
No pain shall we let through
Resilience is the love that shall be ours to stay
Hope is our companion through pebbles such
That are strewn haphazardly along our every way
Let our head hang low we wont - Nay!
Our heart shall not dwell in dismay
What length and width giveth our silly moments and time
To something so trivial!
  A mountain of age old molehill
Boredom perhaps has tilled?
Who knows whether potential it had
Or was simply imagined
Another day, another plan
Time shall surely unravel
And in its wait our patience shall be the guide
Assuring that no disdain or angst
In our life shall stay too long to tar or mar
Our faith in all those whom we wish to remain by our side
In times of reminisce when we sit back tomorrow...

...inshaAllah, Ameen!

Thursday, 21 April 2011

The Revival of Hope

Restlessness and Lethargy seem to be the key players in my existence right now. They have pervaded all that exists - be it work or home - and seem to render the consciousness and agility, Listless.

''What is this spell?''  The mind pains itself to think.

''Why is it that my prayers, incantations, and all other tribulations of spiritual cleansing, seem not to be working as they used to once - especially when they are most ardently needed to? Perhaps a rust of sorts has taken roots within my being without me being aware of it? Perhaps a weakness of heart? Perhaps the mistake of entertaining a certain Mr. Guileless-unworthy-What-If-and-Why-Me-Beware-Of-Me-I-Am-Dangerous-Thus-Don't-Court-Me-Bugger-Of-Sorts?''

Why, that has got to be it!

What is needed, perhaps, is a revival of the self with a more focused diligence. Hankerings over these negatives never were good for me and bode nothing well for my future; the sane parts of the mind that still exist, reprimand the soul to take on a semblance of control...

''Aau'dhubillahiMinaShaytaaniRajeem, BissmIllahiRahmaaniRaheem''

To another chance, to another forgiveness, to another moment - in order to live right, I stir myself and try to wake up again, in order for my conscience to be able to survive the test which who knows how soon I shall find myself immersed in... in the only Ultimate End Which Matters.

Insha'Allah may the ''trying'' be made easy and may the effort not go wasted.

Ameen.

Sunday, 27 March 2011

Release Yourselves


As we live it, you and I
We have not much left to blame
After all the pages turned
over and over
Pictures burned and removed
from their seamless covers
Pointless repeats you have become
The pain that came with you
The pain that left with you
Redundant musings;
Petrified, Molly Coddled, Lain to sleep
Reality sublime forever clear
in its moment leaves you awake
To truth not before seen
Dreams that were only dreams
Stark facts that you sit here ruffling through your brain
Nothing but an empty terrain; bare
Let yourself let them go
May it all sink in and finally rest
never to surface again...


Monday, 21 March 2011

The Fear of Death/Acceptance of Life

Crossing over
such a cleaver to the head?
It's just a moment
When your breath comes to a final end...
... only to live on for sure.
Perhaps our real fear and worry
should lie in making haste
towards deeds that would allow us
to reach that aspired for shore!

... inshaAllah, Ameen!