Day 16: Ramadan Reflections- A Midsummer Night’s Dream

Disclaimer: Contains tiny bit of poignant hues

I was really hoping I would be catching some sleep that night. I didnt want the night to turn out like this. I wished I didnt know about it, I wished I could unhear what I heard. I honestly wished I could travel to the world above the skies for couple days, perhaps the weekend, and come back on Monday morning. Take the weekend off- because in my world, taking the weekend off is pretty analogous to that.

After I hung up on the phone, I sat on my bed, trying to make sense of what or how am i supposed to feel. Nowadays it doesnt even hurt anymore, I guess the sensations in the nerves have wilted out over the years. It hurts so bad it doesnt hurt anymore. I still needed to know what am I supposed to feel- because the darkness seemed to trump the faint light that was struggling to peek. And I wanted that light, albeit small, its much better than the mostrous darkness. The darkness is like a canine, a hound may be- just the presence of it sometimes is ominous.

As much as my sinister lower self tried to let itself fall prey on the sadistic, merciless predator, my corresponding meek, vulnerable, still wanting to live and not leave part saw something. Something that no matter how much my ego tried to dismiss saying the tragedy is greater- failed.

The Moon. The moon and I have come pretty close since last winter. I like it. When I am alone among the 6bn people in the world, the moon joins me and we silently glorify our Creator everynight. 

In the Quran, Allah says He is 

Everything that is illuminating- sun, moon, star- all are from Allah’s Light.Even in that dark, ruthless night, the Moon was there with me, and through it, Light of My Creator. Even in that turmoil of emotions, amidst the chaos of my raging heart, I noticed how beautiful the Light was. Soft, subtle, silently illuminating the very area where I pray. For a moment my thoughts drifted to the moon, that Light, those memories. I remembered my dream dua- that of my dream home, where I pray to Allah in the depths of the night, with the moonlight filling up my entire bedroom, falling right on my bed. The very bed where I was sitting that time and thinking about it all.

So I got up, gently pulled the blanket aside, and joined the moon. Together we silently glorified Our Creator, and as I prayed for my dream life, I hope it joined me too.

Perhaps thats why the night was so dark, thats why I had to hear what I hear, went through the incidents of that night. So I could see that the only pretty thing that night was the moon.

And my dream duas.

Day 12: Ramadan DUAries(Dua+Stories)-Faith Is A Funny Thing


This morning I was making dua for my friend. Among other things I threw in a casual dua for her- I wanted Allah to give her some peace and time so she can spend quality time with herself, contemplating and thinking about what she wants to do for her ownself. Her domestic affairs always keep her on her toes 24×7. I want her to do something constructive with her life, which, given her present circumstances is not usually possible. She didnt ask me to make this dua and I didnt tell her either. It was more like something I personally asked for her, because I knew she wants it deep down.

About less than 2 hours later, i texted her asking how is her day going, only to hear that she is looking through the applications of the courses she wishes to do. 

I was baffled at that moment. I had absolutely no clue she was toying with this idea. I just truly wanted her to have some time off for herself to atleast be able to think properly, let alone look through courses. The dua that I made for her, albeit heartfelt, wasnt something I was “begging for” either. It was a pretty casual dua, in fact I was just sitting on my bed when I made it. But Allah already started the chorewheel for her before makind dua for it even came to my mind. Allah just wanted someone to perhaps “lobby” for her, because He loved being called for her. Because He loves her.

The same way He loves you.



Ramadan Diary: I

An hour before Maghrib, my friend who has been battling with severe faith issues texts me she suddenly feels an excitement inside. Even yesterday she was about to give up. When Maghrib adhan rings, another friend said she suddenly felt a weight being lifted off of her chest. This morning she was gloomy with no motivation.

When I was making wudu for Maghrib, I suddenly felt a strength inside me that this Ramadan I am not alone left to fight my battle. I have few more friends on similar journey, holding onto this month of mercy like our lives depend upon it.

(We all by the way are that bunch who are not too motivated to do Ramadan, past experiences gone bad kind of. Its hard to rise up and hope again.)

Ramadan Mubarak Everyone! May this be the life changing Ramadan we all desperately are seeking.May all your wishes be granted this month.

Lets start. Bismillah.

Extraordinary Provisions

Allah sustains us by means  in ways we sometimes fail to understand.

Commonly misunderstood, rizq (provision/sustenance) does not only include jobs or wealth. Our families, friends, health etc are our provision.
I would argue that the love and support, hope and faith, that we receive during hardship are provisions too. Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) said about his wife Khadija RA that “ruziqtu hubaha”, i.e “I was sustained through her love”. It was her love that Allah chose to sustain the Prophet (peace be upon him) when they both underwent the transition into his prophethood.

Its a different blessing when love becomes a provision. Together or apart, you learnt to love through dua. Every prayer, every act of worship you perform, you have a hidden wish that perhaps this will be another addition to the witness of your love, another testimony to its truth. You reach a point where you love only through your worship, through your prayers, through your duas. It becomes such that loving the person becomes worshipping Allah. The joy you get out of those prayers becomes your sustenance. That nourishes you, cherishes you, keeps you alive, keeps you going.

It does not end here though. Prophet Yaqoob(Jacob) was sustained in his grief with his hope and profound faith in God, when reality and people failed him left and right.

More often that not, our provisions are found in the earth. They are found in wealth and prosperity (which is very important. There is no belittling of any of that).But sometimes though, even for some extremely ordinary people, extraordinary provisions come down, that is not from this world. Not because they are special, but because The One who sends them down is. You might not even be aware of it, but its there. It comes especially from the heavens, from right under The Throne. From Ar Razzaq-The Provider.

And if you were to count God’s favors, you would not be able to number them (Nahl :18)




White-Blue Hues

Look at the sky tonight. Stand at your window and take in its vastness. There are no cracks or gaps in the sky. No sign of discontinuity. No randomness. Its perfectly crafted,painted with one continuous stroke, alternating between the most magical hues of white and blue.

White- Blue Hues

Life is like that too, a perfect craft of Allah. Nothing happens in life that is random.There is never a point where there is a crack.Its one continuous Divine plan, unique for every individual. Just like the white-blue hues, our lives also alternate between love and loss, joy and heartache, success and failure, faith and struggle.

No wonder Allah tells us to reflect upon His Creations.

One Year Ago, I Made A Choice

Exactly one year ago, I made a choice.

I chose faith, I chose hope, and by leaving the retreating hand I want to grip so much, I chose to hold the One that was extended out to me. The never fail, never go wrong, the Most Trustworthy Handhold as He Himself testifies to – The Invisible Hand of God.

In the days and months that followed I was introduced to the atrocities and viciousness of life, the cruelty of pain, the constant butchering of my heart and eventual demise of every living atom of my body. So much for clinging onto my faith against every odds, hoping that the sun will rise soon.

Instead it set deeper, further abyss into the dark. And with it, it took away the last bit of faith and hope that I had. Or at least I thought I did. With it left every last atom my emotional existence. It left behind a heart void of any human emotions or feelings. Somedays it would hurt so bad that it felt like my heart was being ripped into shreds, and grounded into pulp of flesh by a pack of merciless, preying wolves hungry for a feast. Slowly, in the camouflage of protecting whatever last bit remained of my tender, bruised heart, I resorted to teaching myself to expect the worse. Against every possibility of a good, to expect ten worse outcomes. At least that would save the pain of disappointment.

And thus began my journey of despair. It was cold, vicious, cruel and ruthless. But it was also safe.  Despair is like a cancer. It spreads to every fiber of your being before it  takes over matters of your mind, soul and eventually, the body. It dictates your inner self and feasts off your self-destructive and self-critical thoughts. Its brutality makes it akin to the devil himself. It talks to you pretending to be God, only if I knew better.

Having stumbled into some signs from My Almighty Lord I slowly have started to recover after what seems like eternity. I have started to heal and to take baby steps towards slowly rising again – rising in hope, in love, and perhaps little bit in faith. Daring myself to expect, and expect grand. Expect like nobody’s business.

It sometimes comes easily – good expectations. Certainty that He is sending my sunrise soon. But more often that not, it doesn’t. The level of unwavering faith and certainty doesn’t always come to the point that governs my actions, as opposed to the certainty in negative expectations and hence their dictating of my actions. So I make the choice, continuously and relentlessly, as if my life depends on it. In fact in the ultimate sense of the word, it does. I choose to expect, albeit I fail to do so. I choose to do hope, despite my inability to so. Yes,  I choose to, not because I have to, but because I want to. Because I choose to want to.

Because one year ago, I made a choice.

And I still make it every single day.

Faith Corner: Hope Can Be Paralysing

One of the most profound stories of hope and belief in the Quran is Surah Yusuf. Allah narrates the journey of a father’s unwavering hope and trust in His Divine Ability, which changed the course of history.

For years Yaqoob AS held onto the belief of his missing son returning back to him. It is his unshakable belief in Allah that sustained him through this insurmountable loss. He lost his eye sight due to shedding incessant tears for his lost child.However,despite his full faith,instead of getting his son back,he lost two more of his sons. So as if one was not enough, now three of his sons were missing.

But his reaction was remarkable. Let alone sink in an abyss of doubt and despair, he actually hoped that even though they went missing years apart, Allah would perhaps bring them back together. As things kept getting worse,his expectations kept going up.He never thought Allah’s help was far.Even though things went downhill one by one, he didn’t expect them to get better likewise. On the contrary, he actually believed that Allah would give him everything back at once. Consequently, Allah did not disappoint him. All three of his sons came back together, his eyesight was restored and entire Egypt was saved.

Hope or depair-both can be paralysing. Choose wisely.Choose hope. Choose faith.  And allow it to cripple you, leave you incapable of feeling anything else.And then watch miracles unfold,right in front of your eyes.