ode to the angel i met on the dolmuş

i am writing this post in a hurry because it is 2 am and because i do NOT want to forget about what happened today.

i got on the minibus to uskudar like i normally do and was fretting about with all kinds of silly worries and negative thoughts (it has become habitual at this point unfortunately). i must have had a silly look of devastation or sadness on my face and was lost in whatever was going on in my head. i did not even realize there was a precious baby girl sitting next to me on her grandmother's lap. she must have been at least 2 and she was mumbling to herself in turkish and staring at me. she kept kicking my leg with her little pink boot and her grandmother would move her leg away from mine. i finally decided to look her way because the kicks were enjoyable and i totally did not consider them an annoyance as the grandmother might have thought.

oh my GOSH. i turned my face to be greeted by BIG BEAUTIFUL BROWN EYES looking up at me. i couldn't help but crack a smile... which was received with the most ADORABLE smile which suddenly broke into a cute giggle/chuckle. ya Allah! i started staring. i could not take my eyes off of this magnificent creation. how perfect was this piece of art, subhanAllah. she was bubbly and giggly and carefree... she was muttering to herself in turkish... oh what i wouldn't have given to understand my new dear friend. we looked at each other longer, with some kind of an understanding. our souls seemed to speak to each other in those few moments and i looked away with tears in my eyes at how beautiful the experience was.

i started to get overwhelmed and did not want to be seen with tears in my eyes so i stopped looking at the child... eventually i got lost in my thoughts again... some weird negativity seeping its way back into my brain. and all this time i heard chipper squeaks coming from my left hand side. eventually the baby, who realized i was being unresponsive decided to be more direct. she started playing with my coat zipper and touching my face. i had to look her way. and then it hit me. this child was reminding me of how i used to be. how we should all be. how sweet and natural and true she is. unhindered by what is not facing her and bringing love and warmth to those she is interacting with. subhanAllah. what an ANGEL. she is beautiful she is real and she did not care about being that or not being that, she was just being.

today that kid taught me so much. Alhumdulilah rabil alameen. i am certain she was an angel sent to me today. after i got off the bus... i walked away briskly and took a deep breath and laughed to myself loudly... i was standing on the corner ready to cross the street... and out of nowhere the angel baby comes again and runs to me and grabs on to me... and i hear her grandmother laughing. ya Allah. thank You for sending me a teacher through this child and helping my veiled heart absorb this lesson.

every time i impose negativity on myself for no reason, i will think of this child - who distracted me from my own stupidity, long enough to give me some sense.

when the chest cannot contain another drop of grief

I am beginning to rediscover the importance of a routine in one's life. Before I always viewed it as something mundane - the same old kinda undesirable thing all the time - and would therefore flee from it. Not having a routine for awhile has made me view it differently.

There is a stability or grounding in such a thing. There are comforts in the familiar and a person can feel a sense of progression through that. Alhumdulilah.

I have also realized a few other things about myself...

I have formulated a strange habit where I spend everyday with an underlying nervousness thinking that the next moment I could be dead or something horrendous could happen to 'disrupt' everything. This is generally true. But really it is unrealistic and unhealthy to think in such a way. Instead this mentality subjects me to all kinds of random possibilities to worry about - that are not my worries to worry about and may never be. I am burdening myself with all this junk and carry it around wherever I go instead of maintaining a light hearted skip in my step. I really must stop doing that. I have to just breathe and set that ridiculous package down somewhere and forget where I left it.

I also realized that for awhile I have been starving myself of love. I guess this came from feeling betrayal, disappointment, and hurt from many of the close relationships I had formulated. In in an effort to not feel pain again at the hands of selfish others, I decided to just move on from them and encase myself in a self sufficient bubble. This is not working. Although I am trucking along there has to be an exchange and intake from the outside world and I have to learn to have a filter to allow healthier things within my heart. I have become far too critical and hard on myself in an effort to not be like the unsavory others in my life. That is fine and dandy, but I need to realize that I am not perfect and chances are I will hurt someone and never realize what I have done. This is natural. This is normal. This is life. They will forgive me, I will forgive them, we will keep going inshAllah.

Allah, I ask for Your help throughout all of this. I thank You for every blessing You are giving me. I know You are being so gentle and patient with me.

she placed a warm palm to my shivering cheek

Okay so I have been here for almost 3 weeks now... but it feels so much longer in a fulfilling way Alhumdulilah. I passed my first official assignment almost 2 weeks ago and have been struggling with the disconnected haruf assignment... I have a feeling it is going to take MUCH longer to pass this one. I hope I can get through AT LEAST the connected haruf during my time here, but I hear that could take years to pass (I counted it and I think it is 12 assignments total... if going by the sulus and nesik book I picked up from IRCICA).

InshAllah we will see how things progress... also, I am realizing I REALLY need to learn the language. There is no time for that right now, at least not during this stay but some friends are coming to visit from the states and are bringing me a teach yourself Turkish book, lol. The pronunciation of words seems to be a lot more difficult than Arabic, even though the language uses Roman alphabets!

Also I want to say something about the people I have been meeting here. Never have I come across a place where I am delighted by the personality of EVERY person I am meeting, Alhumdulilah rabil alameen. Especially the calligraphy masters! Everyone is soooo wow. Really indescribable with such depth of character, personality, goodness, and sincerity. They are so down to earth, yet accomplished and generous. May Allah bless them all. My heart really swells with happiness when I am in their company and after spending all day with them, I come back to the apartment feeling such peace, Alhumdulilah rabil alameen.

Turkey is also a haven for a spiritualty/sufism lush. I see beautiful masajid and mazaars everywhere. I also have a feeling there are plenty of dergahs here... I went to jerrahi dergah a few nights ago in Fatih and it was amazing. Also, there are a whole bunch of foreign 'seekers' here that I have been meeting through various people... people that have been searching for Truth and have come here somewhere during that journey and decided to stay. Says something about the place I think.

Being here has changed my perception of time. I am not sure how to explain it. A year no longer seems like a long time, neither does 5 years, 10, 30, or a life time. Also, being here has really allowed me to question what it is that I need as opposed to what society tells me I need.

Life seems stranger to me than ever. I cannot describe what I am feeling. But this feels good.

love at first sight

Okay so update so far, just a quick one... since I am on the way to Uskudar in search of a kapanabilir masa... :)

Istanbul feels like the most natural thing I have done in awhile. Alhumdulilah rabil alameen.

I'm is grown. sort of.

Thought it would be fitting and super dorky to announce my move to Turkey on Thanksgiving! Leaving this Saturday! I am inshAllah going there for the next 8 months to continue with my art stuff, until the Fall 2011 semester kicks in. Feeling super nervous, anxious, scared, and excited all at the same time.

Gotta look for apartments and jobs, aiming for the Asian side of Istanbul, probably in Kadikoy or Uskudar, because Ayten Hoca's studio is in Umraniye.

But here goes a funny story... I was showing Kirby and Hafeez a huge map of Istanbul and pointing out all the districts and what not to them, and I exclaimed 'Oh my gosh! When I grow up I really want to live here for some time!' and then Kirby started laughing and I realized that that was exactly what was going on now. whoa. cardiac arrest!

Okay gonna go see what is going on with the dinosaur of a Turkey bird downstairs. yummyummyummy! :) Alhumdulilah rabil alameen!

when life hands you jerks make some jerky

You considerate individual! How did you know I make my best work when I am in the most pain? You just helped me with my next masterpiece!

teach me to dance in the rain

Currently sitting in Saman and Ume's apartment and sipping on a delicious cup of cardamom milk tea. I managed to turned in my last grad school application, Alhumdulilah. Let us make dua I get in somewhere cool.

So I plan to head back to Michigan tomorrow, in time for Eid on Tuesday. Goodbye Virginia for the billionth time. I will really miss you. A LOT.

Eid up there will probably consist of me going to the gym then eating cookies and watching Korean dramas in my room. Alone. Like last Eid. hahaha, only this time I won't have to take a practice GRE. hahahaha.

I really do not want to go back up. But I think it will be easier to endure, at least for a short amount of time, inshAllah.

yup

devils cannot be angels no matter how hard they try. and angels cannot survive in hell no matter how hard they try.

you ain't nobody!

At times when distaste for humanity gets overwhelming I must remind myself that I am speaking from an irrational/emotional/disgusted/reactionary state. This 'irrational' mindset happens to bloom into its most verdant state when taking my male counter parts into consideration.

Alhumdulilah even while feeling like that I welcome any opportunity to be humbled and for lack of a better word - have the wind knocked out of any cynical/curmudgeon-like grip on reality that I might be formulating. So I will embark on this post in order to encapsulate a pill in words. A medication that will work to preemptively stop me from interring a soul that was created to fly.

The first documentation in this elixir - I am not at liberty to post about yet. But Alhumdulilah... it is quite something. Kinda like when something is staring you starkly in the face for so long, and then BAM! it hits you full force, and you see it, and it makes sense, and your heart feels peace for that minuscule crumb second in the cookie of your life. But at least you tasted peace long enough to testify that it is real. Or kinda like when you can finally look at the fillet mignon sitting in the back of your fridge and know that it would make the perfect savory Korean bulgogi that you did not even know was a dinner option 2 seconds ago. So yeah. Half of the pill is done :)

The part that I am at liberty to write about will comprise the rest of this post. There was a point in my life where I was basically living out of my car. Alhumdulilah I managed to stay with a friend that was renting a humble property that also housed a blind and deaf cat that I think was mentally unstable. I also happen to be allergic to cats and this fellow (which to this day I refuse to believe was blind and deaf) loved to attack and scratch the heck out of people and extract as much blood as it pleased - only to be coddled and carried around on a silver platter, called by several ridiculous terms of endearment, mutilate any inanimate object in sight, and eat copious amounts of gourmet foods. Yeah. Such is the risq of Allah.

So basically, when I was leaving, Alhumdulilah rabil alameen, I was BEYOND relieved. But overall I was in a pretty cynical and disenchanted state of mind... no further details on the cause of that. But yeah, I really hated all males at that point and viewed them as the scum of the earth... kinda like, how are they even daring to breathe the rest of the good air on this planet? Those stupid lousy filthy selfish uncouth barbarians that dare to walk around for another second without slitting their own wrists! hahahaha, okay I think you get the point.

But I really was so engulfed in this perception. I walked out to load a bag into the car and I heard a creak coming from the neighbors front door. Out came a homely, skinny, shabbily dressed, middle aged white man in glasses, carrying three babies in his arms... and leading another child by the hand. He proceeded to laugh and joke with them as he opened the doors of his run down/dilapidating van and buckled his kids into their respected child seats. He was laughing and jolly and appeared to be caring and responsible. Was I hallucinating? Who was the strange creature that landed on this planet of ogre men? There was no lady in sight that might be responsible for dictating his humane actions. I literally stopped what I was doing to rub my eyes and shamelessly stare with my jaw agape. I stood there well after he had pulled out of the drive way, frozen in that moment that just happened. I was humbled. It was like Allah in that very instant showed me that I was wrong, I was stupid, I was silly. It was the exact proof that I needed to knock me right off my high horse and allow me to acknowledge that I was wounded but it would heal through the Grace of Allah.

Yup so the elixir is done. hahaha... and I have to end the post now cause I gotta go :P

courage

She glared at me with decades full of vengeful daggers. A ghastly pale suffused her otherwise rosy countenance. An eerily calm voice slithered forward and wrapped itself around me -

'Why do you think you're so special?'

Truly confused, I looked up, suddenly uncertain of who stood before me -

'My Lady, I think no such thing. But just because I think something does not make it the truth.'

freedom

Those who say or think "oh for what merit do I deserve this (blessing or punishment)?" still have a hidden arrogance. They imagine this universe is run according to human merit instead of Divine Generosity.

brother guilt

today i say goodbye to you

and you look down on me thinking i was going to cut another key

but i won't look at you for another second

we paid our dues together in a maelstrom of anguish

i won't apologize to you anymore, my beloved mistakes

asking for a chance to undo inhaled air and heart beats is sorry enough

i won't add another brick to your temple

won't nail another shingle on your roof

walking down this road to you was a blessing

it was destiny

i found my reflection in your corridors

my bare feet stepped on broken glass as i repaired every window

there isn't a door that i didn't open and a corner that i didn't weep in

i trapped myself in each room and waited until i swept all the ashes i spread

pulling my hair, i dragged a pitiful body up and down your staircase

and extinguished my heart while lighting your chandelier

i bled a carpet to fill your halls

the melted candles that burned from flames of ignorance have been replaced

and as i walk out, i know i still have matches in my pocket

but i am burning your map tonight

rag doll

this ceaseless pain has spun its gripping threads around my heart

they have strangled and mangled a pitiful spool

i grab an end and try to pull and unwind

but get lost in all the excruciating knots

i pull harder thinking its a matter of persistence and strength

but my hands are bare to the bone from all the thin menacing cuts

so i resigned to this misery that has been stitched into me

i am exhausted and scissors aren't real.

no no no no no

don't worry... i will never let what happened to me happen to you. i know better than that. so rest easy, take a deep breath, smile... we won't say hello.

Boo

When they told me that night that you had died

No one bothered to tell me that I had died too.

So I kept walking around a void and clueless corpse

wondering why nothing tasted good anymore.

The same people and their smiles were now memories from a past.

A time that I thought I would find again after searching.

Joy was so long forgotten, I doubted it ever existed.

The well of tears evaporated before I knew it was something to find.

My brain melted into a mush of indifference.

My heart now ashes from prehistorically ignited coal.

My flesh is yours, your flesh was mine.

I cannot look at myself because I see how long ago we died.

With you here, there was a place that knew me.

I no longer question why I don't belong.

We see from the same eyes

And I found out that I died with you.

thank you Allah

Time here in Doha is winding down. I know being here has been a very precious and sacred time. I came here to learn Arabic, but I am realizing I am going to be leaving with much more. I always felt that a large portion of my undergraduate years were bogged down by a mix of excruciating events... kind of a sad and silly sham. I remember it as a time that I struggled to enjoy. My time at QU has given me much needed peace of mind Alhumdulilah rabil alameen.

imagination almost killed me

i left that stench behind, i left that filth behind

im never gonna take another sip of your poison

i remember how i lived in your piles of crap

like we were on some great adventure

i would sift through for years hoping to find something worth keeping

i made gems from trash

and even now sometimes i think i almost found something worth keeping

but then i realize thats just remnants of the craziness you poisoned me with

the misery you shoved down my throat

we lived in a landfill

i will never stay in that again, unless my dead body is carried there

its hard when your addicted to the poison

but somehow i found the partial remedy for the poison of no recovery

i still get pangs of withdrawal, the damage will plague me to the grave

i know better now, but its hard

my imagination tends to take over, but now i know

ill save my fantasy goggles and diamond in the rough digging gear for another place

im never returning to your cave

the stench is suffocating, there is the smell of disgust, lies, manipulation, and betrayal

i must have picked up the wrong map that led me to you

ill do anything to stay away from your filth and your disease

purple clouds of delusion

drowning in them, oh, they are so soft and gentle.

the tender ones are mighty delicious.

i have become especially good at making gourmet cuisine from their insecurities.

stealing them and devouring them, injesting it all.

making it part of myself.

their laughs and smiles are tinkling bells.

feather like caresses that flutter around my heart.

they can't hurt me with their sugary ways.

every curve is pulling me in.

wisps of hair that i can twirl around my fingers.

sensitivity and vulnerability that i can feel.

my nose snuggles into sweet fragrant shoulders.

your doing the same as me, only differently.

we are both drowning in them.

i build.

you destroy.

i destroy myself to build them.

to build you.

you destroyed me.

you will destroy them.

you will destroy yourself.

call me a hypocrite.

somewhere behind the niqab and the beard you forgot how to be a decent human being. after reading all those books, you only learned how to point an accusing finger. you remember to fold up your pants, but you don't remember to help anyone out. oh your too pious for me and my toothbrush, because you only use miswak. you read your mushaf but do you even know what it means? your great at giving khutbahs, but are you practicing what you preach?

your judging the girl without hijab, oh, you must be too good to talk to that nasty being.

what happened to those 70 excuses? give us all a smile. be a little gentle. think before you speak.

or do you call that all haraam? too snooty and stubborn to apologize since your always right my humble friend. will you ever understand the importance of beautiful character? oh yeah, you got the rules and the regulations, but what good are they doing you? are they bringing you closer to Allah? quickly you point out what's wrong with everyone and everything else. don't you see your only labeling and defining yourself? forgive me, i can't pray behind you. and you won't let anyone lead you. keep arguing, prayer time is over. oh yes my friend, i have so much to learn from you!

i learned exactly what not to be.

club-d-o-m-i-n-o---e---f---f---e---c---t

go ahead and tell your tales queen bee

create chaos amongst the masses

kick me out of the hive

ill wait for a real harvest of honey

little girls just cry because they are weak

Every time I see you, I grab on for dear life.

I feel the pain erupt in my chest and I know this won't last.

You think I am a fool, but you don't know what I do.

Maybe you are stronger, maybe you are braver.

Maybe you just don't care.

Maybe you pretend so I don't have to.

You let me cry as much as I want.

I grab on for dear life as I live this moment with you.

It is here, but I spend it knowing we won't last.

My tears are acid falling on your clarity.

They wash away your reality.

I am drowning in my reality.

Then I am alone, even though you are still here.

You leave.

Nothing has changed.

I am still alone.

Addicted to Tragedy

They wouldn't leave me alone.

So I abandoned myself.

They still wanted me to go on and act.

So I told them I forgot all the lines.

None of it mattered, and I was never any kind of star.

I stopped this heart from feeling anything at all.

I joined the audience in the story of my life.

I watched with all the other spectators.

It's too painful to play any of my own parts.

You play them all.

I watched you on the stage, and you're a bad actor.

Much worse than me, but I watched you on my stage.

I'm too scared to play any part.

To scared to let anyone but you play the parts.

You're a really bad actor in the story of my life.

But I want you to play all the parts.

I won't watch anyone else.

sweet slumber

No momma, I'm not lazy... and I'm not depressed.

Everything is just completely fine, can't you see the smile on my face?

Sleeping is just my favorite thing to do.

In dreamland, I get to see them whenever I want.

Mister Sandman even lets me pretend I am dead.

No momma, I 'm not sad and I'm not depressed.

Sleeping is just what I want to do.

black hole loan shark limbo zimbo

Back then, I gave you everything I had. When that ran out, I borrowed from elsewhere to make up for what you thought I didn't have. It wasn't good enough for you then and it isn't good enough now. You will never know what happened to me in that time. Everything I gave you, you threw into the trash. Today, I am still paying for what was never mine to give away.

Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder

Patience is befitting all things. Imagination suffices.

I imagine a deep richness, a canvas of impenetrable color. Free of infiltration and derangement. A strong bold solid shade of sky, of water, of the hottest fire. A soothing and exhilarating tone of intensity and compatibility. A universally loved hue that fits into every situation, into every understanding, into every emotion, into every crevice of my Soul. A secure and steady expanse of refreshing air, that makes me sigh and raises the hairs on the back of my neck. A color that my palette craves and my brush embraces with excitement until saturated. To witness this aura of midnight sparkle. Relief. Affirmation. Unity. Truth.

On closer inspection, the beauty only increases, the intricacy revealed. Bit by bit, drop by drop, line by line. A mix, a swirl, a basket weave of patterns, designs, sewn fabrics, intertwining threads. A blissful mesh of colors that play with one another and laugh with me gently. Euphoria. The wind blows and they sway and dance in Divine recognition. My heart is enveloped in the vastness of their celestial conglomeration. The mystery of it, seemingly never ending, the delight of every taste never too bitter or too sweet.

Oh wow I think to myself. What is this beautiful creation? Only One Artist could have painted such Love.

mainstream 'love'

i will cut you to pieces and throw you to the dogs! ... only i am the knife and i am the dogs.

bucket list

Decided to make one of these things and keep track. May Allah (swt) bless my past, present, and future. Ameen :) ... will be updating... throughout the years? Listed in no particular order, adding goals I remember were important when I was a kid, heh!

Dye my hair purple

Learn to drive

Open an orphanage

Learn carpentry and woodworking

Beat Street Fighter with Chun Li

Become fluent in Arabic

Live by the beach

Get into grad school

Have my own garden (with hammock and pond)

Learn to ride a bike

Become fluent in Japanese

Get ijaza in khat

Get ijaza in tezhib

Stick to principles (based on current and ever growing capacity)

Marry my best friend!

Learn the value of my own Soul

Have several adorable genius babies :)

Learn to swim

Study Quran and Tafsir in depth

Get a motorcycle

Become a master chef

Be comfortable in my own skin

Stand up for what is right (even when scared)

Have a cool smile

Adopt a kid

Get a bunk bed

Wake up early enough for Saturday morning cartoons

Make my own comic book

Be nice and patient with mean people

Convince Mommy to let me have a Ken doll

Put jerks in their place

Travel the World

Have my own art studio

Stop caring what society thinks

Be completely honest with myself

Talk my way out of speeding tickets, charisma charisma charisma!

Throw cool parties

Ethnic malleability

Control my emotions

Learn a fighting style

Stop being afraid of Baby Dollie

Learn to induce lucid dreams

Learn to dream walk

Develop and execute Amina Hawa cemetery infiltration strategy

Become a sophisticated and elegant lady of class ;)

Poem by Imam Shafi'i

It is good to know Alhumdulilah that cool people feel the same way I do :) Thank you Asma, my love.

If an acquaintance only burdens you with formality
Then leave them, and trouble yourself not with worry
For amongst men are replacements, and in leaving is relief -
And the heart will stay patient for a truly beloved eternally.

Yet not everyone for whom your heart yearns shares the feeling,
Nor every ‘good do’er’ sincere in what they’re revealing -
If kindness comes not naturally then what joy
Can there be in friendship that is only perfunctory.

No good is a friend who betrays a beloved,
Meeting them after closeness with coldness;
Who rejects time spent together in happiness,
And reveals secrets only yesterday veiled.

Farewell to this life if one cannot find
A true friend – honest, noble, and kind.

the flower exclaimed...

"don't crush me! don't crush me! i am inlove with Your fragrance."

sometimes i wish i was not a girl, but then i think ya Allah, thank you i am not a stupid man

Currently waiting at Costa Coffee in DIA for my flight to Istanbul which is tonight bada muntasaf al layl. Sigh. I thought I would write about some stuff to get off my chest since I hear writing is a form of therapy of some sorts. At the risk of re traumatizing myself I shall embark on this post.

I am really disgusted by certain mentalities in Saudi. I won’t go on and on about various subjects. I will just illustrate my point with one topic – Women visiting cemeteries. My dad is buried in Amina Hawa Cemetery in Jeddah. So far Alhumdulilah I have been there three times. I have been in the cemetery itself twice. The first time I went, I went with my mom and Shareef. Then, my mom and I had on abayas (clearly women) and were denied entry into the cemetery. I am sure my mom knew beforehand that we wouldn’t be able to go in but decided against telling me, since she knew my love for daddy would drive me to a lack of rational thinking and most probably devious and desperate means of entry. The travel agent that was there when my dad was buried came to show Shareef where the grave was. Shareef was free to trot on in, while my mom and I waited outside the gate in the scorching heat. Already confused from the heat and rapidity of events and traveling, I later properly digested the insanity of the Saudi ‘laws’, making my entry as a girl wanting to make dua for five minutes in front of a grave ‘mumnua’ (illegal). So yeah, the first time, I stood there, at the gate, unable to understand really what was going on, kind of numb, unsure of how to react, only thinking 'no this isn’t real'. I just stood there and watched my mom stand at the gate and cry. The guard, who I guess felt that us standing outside the gate was not good enough, decided to shut the gate door altogether, leaving only a crack for him to survey us further. We left, and that was it.

The next time we came to Saudi was the following year Alhumdulilah. I was with mommy again and this time Hafeez. By then the pain of coming so close and not even being able to see where my dad was buried had well penetrated my heart. It had permeated my soul, and I made so much dua the entire year to see the grave. I constructed a plan in my head and carefully crafted a means of executing it. I was sure not to share it with anyone until the night before. I decided to dress up as a boy and see this thing through no matter what. I bought a white thobe, red and white kafiyya, and kufi. The night before going to the grave, I tried on everything, thickened my eyebrows with my mom’s eyeliner, and asked Hafeez to show me how to walk like a man. The next day, during the car ride from Makkah to Jeddah, I took off my hijab and put on the kafiyya. The travel agent guy that was there during my dad’s burial met us at the cemetery since he knows where the grave is and was going to show Hafeez – my mom has not even seen it herself. The travel agent guy eyed me mockingly since he recognized me from the year before and started talking and joking and almost blew my cover there! I was infuriated and ignored him. I kept making dhikr and tried to stay calm and strong. He walked in with Hafeez, leaving me behind. I tried to walk in quickly after them, but the guard blocked me at the entrance. He put on a mockingly cruel smile, almost as if he knew something was up. Oh, the way I was infuriated! That look on his face - I will never forget, like this is all some sort of game and he had the right to do whatever he wanted and even try to ridicule me. I again made dua in my heart, pointed in and pushed past him. Alhumdulilah rabil alameen. I went in. I went in. I went in! The minute the travel agent spotted me inside the graveyard, mind you, while I am standing there trying to make dua, he starts joking and laughing and saying how lucky I am to be here. Only Allah kept me calm at that time, I ignored him again and kept making dua. I controlled myself from telling him how inappropriately he was behaving and that he should keep quiet while I make dua, and that I was there not because of ‘luck’ but because I had made dua to Allah the entire year, begging and pleading to be able to go in. Hafeez, being able to read my body language, picked up that I was holding onto my wits by a ripping thread , and told me to calm down and that this is perhaps why women are not allowed in cemeteries. Uhm! Excuse me, what?! How on earth was I reacting inappropriately in any manner. I was controlling myself under the assault of so many inappropriate comments and behaviors from these indecent and ignorant male counterparts, and here I am, suddenly at fault?! I made dua for Allah to give me sabr since I was standing in front of Daddy’s grave and kept quiet. I never brought the comment up with Hafeez again, although I should have brought on a verbal tirade.

How is it that men can make these comments to women, or dictate ‘proper’ behavior for women, or even begin to try to understand women when they have no idea what it is like to walk two steps in a woman’s shoes. I will never understand that. I will never submit to that.

This year, I went again to visit the grave, alone. I called the travel agent guy (which now I am realizing I will never do again) to send a car to take me there from Makkah. The Pakistani guy that drove me there, although appearing to be jolly and friendly, was drowning in sickening Desi cultural mentality topped with Saudi religious mentality. He tried to discourage me from putting on the kafiyya and tried to tell me going to the cemetery is haraam the entire hour long drive there. Ya Allah! Give me sabr, give me sabr, give me sabr. Does this man have children? Does he have a heart? Does he have a conscience? Allah, I ask for sabr even as I write this post! When he saw that I was not caving in, he decided to help me and told me that my black hijab that I had foolishly decided to leave on was showing underneath the read and white kafiyya. I pulled it down to cover more of my face, and once stepping out of the car, I saw that the travel agent guy was standing at the gate to meet us. He asked for the qabr number and I gave it to him. The guard at the gate looked at all three of us, then he stopped to look at me for a good few minutes. He responded by saying that everyone could go in but me. I kept quiet, knowing that my voice would obviously give me away. The travel agent and Pakistani driver tried to meekly ask that I be admitted in and that I was a girl traveling from America and wanted to be let in. Sigh. The gig was up, they admitted I was a girl and there was no way they would let me in now. I really should have went alone. The travel agent guy tried asking again and settled on him going in to make dua, and that I had to wait outside and if I wanted I could go around the outside wall and make dua from there. What are you ridiculous! My chest was bursting with incredulousness and frustration. He walked in leaving me with the Pakistani driver. A Saudi man who seemed to be a supervisor of some sort for the cemetery joined us outside and started talking to the driver in Arabic (thinking I couldn’t understand). He was citing Hadith about how women are not allowed to go into cemeteries in Islam. He had a mocking grin on his cruel face and smiled as he said this. I knew he didn’t even care about what he was preaching, he was just doing a job and enjoying the power he had over the situation. Cruel. After he finished his spiel he turns his mocking look to me and tells the driver laughingly ‘Oh, she doesn’t know Arabic!’ Hah!!!!! My patience was through at that point. Ya Allah! I kindly tell him that I know a little Arabic and that I was going in for 5 minutes and I would be quick. I explained that it would be impossible for me to leave without seeing the grave of my Father (mind you, this was all in Arabic – take that jerk!). I make a move for the gate. By then one of the overweight guards had put a chair in front of the door and sat on it, in an effort to block entry. As soon as I tried to enter he put his arm out and pushed me away. Ya Allah. I took a deep breath and quickly dived for the small area left behind his chair and the door. He grabbed my arm but I managed to get out of his grasp. Once in, there was another gate after the main gate which was partially closed. Another guard saw me enter and ran to slam that gate shut. He told me to leave or just stay there. I took another deep breath. Bismillah. Shoved the gate open and went in. Ya Allah. I walked in towards my dad’s grave where I saw the travel agent standing. He smiled thinking I got ‘lucky’ again. I told him that I forced my way in to give him a heads up incase the police showed up at some point. He left and I had one second to stand there and attempt to make dua before the Saudi man reached us and started asking that I leave. The travel agent joined him and started barking at me to leave. Fickle jerk. I tried to close my eyes and make dua as quickly as I could and left since they kept barking orders at me. I was also concerned for the travel agent and driver and did not want them to get in trouble if the police considered them accomplices of some sort. Ya Allah. I could not even make dua for 5 minutes in peace. I left. I just left. I was not even there long enough to realize where I was, or in front of who’s grave I was standing. I just saw dirt. I just heard yelling. That was it.

I walked out, with a butchered heart, trying desperately to control the heaving sobs building up in my chest. Ya Allah. I could not stop crying for at least 2 days after that happened. I felt like a leaky faucet. I stayed quiet but the tears kept flowing from my eyes and my insides felt severed and mangled. Allah. Oh Allah.

Last time I went in quietly, I made dua peacefully and left. There was no crying, no pain, Alhumdulilah. All these problems, all this harassment and ridicule for something attempted that was only pure, honest, sincere… has damaged me deeply. It is now well after that, that I am writing this posting now, and I still carry what feels like a wooden stake in my chest. I pray now that Allah heals me from being traumatized like that. But I know I will keep trying inshAllah.

I think at some point I will try to rent a small place in Jeddah and devise a way to climb over the high cement wall in the middle of the night so I can read Quran and make dua in peace at my daddy’s grave inshAllah. Allah (swt) please give me patience.

somebody hold me :(

knife in the heart and twist. naila got married. Alhumdulilah rabil alameen.

oh baby, love is the only art i care to master

ana ashoor bi farah jiddan alan, Alhumdulilah!

I booked my ticket to Istanbul to check out the artist community there and meet with some calligraphy masters. One of my Turkish classmates also introduced me to ebru (however, I am thinking China would be better for that), which I must check out while there. Also, tezhip (illumination) seems like something I could potentially excel in inshAllah and would really enjoy working with. Ah, the idea of tezhip is giving me goosebumps!

2 midterms done, 1 left to go in Media Arabic. sigh :)

hulm al ajeeb, madina al ajeeb

I have been having the same sorta recurring dream for awhile now, not in terms of events but place. It is like a city that I am in or walking around in or driving around in and I keep coming to the same place. I know I have never really been there before in the physical sense, and it seems to be a mix of a few places I have been to... seems to be parts Richmond, parts of nova, parts of cville, somethings from my imagination, etc. And I really don't like the place very much, but seem to be stuck there. Maybe if I have time at some point from the birnamij I will draw up a picture of it and post it. But I think the place keeps 'growing', its so strange... more things to discover and see (depending on my vehicle of transport). And the weather is different from dream to dream, it can be sunny, foggy, rainy, dank, whatever but the feeling I always get is that of glum. I really don't like the place at all, mostly because it makes me feel sick, and I don't know why, and I want to get out of it, so it's like I am testing the limits to where the place ends, but either I find a new place in the same city, or I end up in a location I have been to already.

Even more haunting is the fact that sometimes people or a particular person shows up in the dreams and I visit a particular house repeatedly in the dream, and really it's painful. Mostly because it is a house I want to stay at desperately, but it's not mine, I don't belong, or I am not welcomed. Every time I go it's like I have to sneak in or something strange like that, what is this place?! And then I have to tip toe around and not get caught by the owners, kinda like I am playing Maniac Mansion. Video game dreams, sounds fun right? hah yeah right! These dreams really aren't normal. Next time this dream happens and its a lucid one (because sometimes this happens), I am going to try to kill myself in it.

I don't get much sleep these days and I sometimes wake up more tired than I was before I went to sleep. Misery.

oh my heart! please don't burst, not just yet.

I am starting to think that if I don't go for umrah every so often, I will die of grief.

Alhumdulilah rabil alameen, our visas got approved.

things are different now when i walk by, you start to sweat and you don't know why

Lately my face has been breaking out to a ginormous degree, similar to my last semester of undergrad.... and this breakout is happening even after 5 months of accutane usage, benzoyl peroxide 10% cream, multani mitti, clay masks, brevoxyl face wash, and all kinds of other stupid things.

This always happens, when stress enters my life. I have reached another cross roads in my life, not quite sure what to do after the program. I made a map out of things with a list of enumerable possibilities and am anxious to see something tangible manifest. I am not too keen on coming back to the states, cause I am not too sure if I am meant to be going back to anything there (at least for right now), instead I want to explore what the rest of the world is offering :)

But still, there is always grad school to fall back on, I think I finally found a program that holds some charm and interest for someone as whimsical and fleeting as my "jack of all trades and master of none" self would find. And believe me, this came after awhile of considering what is worth getting myself into debt over, and what is worth staying in one place and working for awhile to pay back over. Alhumdulilah, maybe then if this grad school thing works out, I can finally get a motorcycle because that has not seemed to be a good idea here in Doha, by annnnyyyy means! But if I do get in, maybe deferment would be a good option.

Other than that, there is a large list of other possibilities.... maybe stay and work in Doha, which is becoming a great hub of cultures and peoples and opportunities (if it already isn't that, I hear they are even opening a water park here!) amidst a swamp of superficiality and contrived sense of being. Plus it is close to Jeddah and Daddy, which is always a plus plus plus plus plus to the max, Alhumdulilah. I am thinking it can't be that hard to scrounge up a few friends outside of the program? Maybe I could audit some Arabic classes here, who knows?

After that, I am thinking Damascus would be cool, Istanbul would be insanely cool, Tarim/Sanaa would be phenomenal (but in a little bit). Amman is always in the mix of things if need be, as is Cairo. And we all know if all else fails, I can go to Seoul and save up once again to continue these excursions.

Yeah but sometimes, I even think, this is all too much, I am too tired and I am not that strong, just give it up and maybe find a decent asylum or a side street to rest my aching soul on. Allah (swt) help me, help me, help me.

Do not surrender your grief so quickly

Let it cut more deeply

Let it ferment and season you

As few human or divine ingredients can

[Hafiz]

dear life

how much longer until you are over? :)

Road block

Continuing with muraqaba, I have encountered a hefty challenge, and am not quite sure how to go around it. Basically, I have learned it is no easy task to control your thoughts. It is insanely hard! But we all knew this I am sure... the crux of the problem comes when you have to empty your mind of thoughts and be void of thoughts... void of anything... completely empty.

Initially I start with distractors and jump from a thought to the next so as not to dwell on one specifically (and I am probably doing this wrong)... creating a whimsical frenzy and flurry of non settling thoughts in the hopes that they are so light and feather-like I can blow them away at once. If I settle on a thought for too long, I stop and know I am thinking about something and stop myself... then blow it away. Okay but the problem is here... if you are 'emptying your mind'... clearing it of everything... how do you acknowledge that you have cleared your mind without thinking that 'oh my mind is cleared'. Isn't that a thought.. or recognition... since I acknowledged 'oh yeah I stopped thinking about all those things and now my mind is clear'. What madness! What insanity! It seems impossible to clear my mind.

It is like there are somehow two compartments to how this thing works... the mind itself which holds whatever you are thinking, then the policeman mind portion which polices what the mind is thinking, but in reality it is part of the mind too and when you acknowledge that, the two merge and create chaos in the entire process, ahhh!

I guess I will just keep tooting along, because you know what they say - persistence pays off, practice makes perfect, blah blah blah.

Anyways, I am glad to know I am not entirely crazy, since I found this online which makes sense, but still doesn't help me:

"The theory of ironic processes of mental control hold that both the most and the least desired effects of attempts to control one's own mental states accrue from two processes: an intentional operating process (a conscious, effortful search for mental contents that will produce a desired state of mind) and an ironic monitoring process (an unconscious, automatic search for mental contents that signal a failure to produce the desired state of mind). Although the monitoring process usually functions just to active the operating process, during stress, distraction, time urgency, or other mental load, the monitor's effects on the mind can supersede those of the operator, producing the very state of mind that is least desired. An individual's attempts to gain mental control may thus precipitate the unwanted mental states they were intended to remedy."

[Psychological Science. When the Antidote is the Poison: Ironic Mental Control Processes Wegner, Daniel M.]

إذا كنت سأموت هنا ثم الحمد لله. لو أموت في سورية ، ثم الحمد لله. لو أموت في اليابان ثم الحمد لله. لو أموت بين ذراعيك ثم الحمد لله.

and one day all your jokes just weren't funny anymore

Now we are in mutawasit al awal!

Alhumdulilah back in Doha now after spending some time in Detroit. It is our last semester, and man, it is looking crazy. We have insane loads of homework from just this first week and weekend - inshAllah I am hoping that I can keep up with it all. We have a couple new teachers - Ustadha Mariam and Ustadh Salaah. We also still have Ustadh Ahmed much to my excitement LOL. So we still have the same reading, writing, listening, speaking, and grammar classes from before... in addition to Media Arabic, which I am pretty happy about. Ustadh Salaah is leading that class and he seems very polite and engaging and is familiar with cville/uva and possibly preemptively formed a positive impression about me from that :/

But inshAllah I decided no more fooling around and no more dilly dallying and socializing too much - just make the absolute most of this semester and inshAllah focus on just studying :) I go through this speel every semester! ya Allah, help me!

Okay, gonna finish up this drama min Korea al Janubia and off to wajibi. Ma'Salaama!

introducing!!!!!!

i have picked my rapper name - 'lil crayon'

it is official and copy written now so no one can try steal it without getting sued.

beby's keys to happiness

i know this is hard to do, but it works with me Alhumdulilah rabil alameen. may Allah (swt) show me His Magnificence.

ok and so far this is all i have.

be thankful for what you have. simply that. you won't get anything more than what you are getting and you won't get anything less than what you are getting, so really, make the most of it.

don't be scared or afraid. and i will go even further to say go ahead and do the stuff you are scared of the most. why are you scared anyways? take a deep breath! say Bismillah! go ahead! (this does not apply to doing haraam things)

control your emotions and access whether your behavior is proper/justified. this is very important.

for extra happiness, you can eat some cookies too. but they have to be of high caliber and them being fresh makes it even better. eating a nasty stale cheapo cookie (i.e. a random chips a hoy that has been in your bag for a few months and has rat hair growing out of it) could jeopardize happiness effects.

accompany this with a lot of duas, shukr, astagfar, and good deeds. delicious :)

dreams do come true!

Right now I am packing to go backpacking through a few places in the Sharq Al-Awsat. holla! ;) InshAllah I will get to check out Shaykh Nuh's zawiyah in Kharabsheh. I am bursting with excitement. I will try to put up some kind of post bada rihla inshAllah.

See you guys in two weeks, then heading to Detroit after that, yippeee says sarcastic me.

Go away, maybe you can come back another day

I am a staunch believer that stagnant societal interaction prevents personal growth and development. This is not to say that some consistency is not necessary in some form and from a select few, but certainly, really, mix it up.

Through my experiences I have found that sometimes people gravitate towards others for different reasons, not always the best ones. Bonds with others could be due to dependency, convenience, habitual practice, self serving interests, or heedless interaction.

A person could be dependent on someone in someway (and really, I hate to say ‘dependent’ in the sense of dependent, because everyone and everything is dependent on Allah), but I am speaking in regards to the perception of the person and the way they view the necessity of the interaction. They may view a need for dependency on the other whether it be for income, physical/emotional sanctuary, affection, food, information, etc. This is not to say that an individual does not need certain things, or does not even need the person, since they could be a venue for bestowing certain things through the Grace of Allah. But there comes a point where the venue may change and the means of receiving these things, again, through the Grace of Allah, may change.

Also, there is the aspect of convenience. Sometimes an individual may associate with another simply because of close proximity and lack of selection. I have seen this even with people in the same high schools, neighborhoods, small towns, ethnic circles, etc. It is really that a person does not know that there are other tangible options for communication and development that may be much better suited to their needs. Why venture onwards, when you don’t know that the grass could be greener on the other side?

Habitual practices could result from the convenience of societal interaction. For example - a relationship or marriage resulting from a convenient interaction. “Oh we went to the same high school and we started dating, got married, had a baby, and we have been living in the same town all our lives!” Or even, people get used to an interaction and may no longer see the ‘benefit’ to an interaction but just carry on in the mundane simply because it is routine.

Yeah so self serving interests, pretty self explanatory. Using someone just to get ahead, knowing that it is a parasitical interaction. Yikes!

Heedless interaction, hmm, just hanging out, chilling, and passing time. A person may not really be apt to perceiving the affect such an interaction is having on them.

Yeah so really, these are some of the reasons that some interactions carry on, when others may choose to prefer otherwise. I have found that when bonds are formed for not necessarily the best reasons and a person denies themselves a chance to grow and develop by partaking in them, they have given into self sabotage. This is not to say that certain stagnant bonds will not cultivate wonderful interactions that lead to great emotional, spiritual, and intellectual development, but the chances are not as likely that you will successfully find such individuals. In order for this to happen the interaction should come from someone that has to understand that the one they are interacting with needs to grow, thrive, develop, and experience things all around them. They need to understand that a person will change, based on life challenges, personal preferences, learned lessons, all kinds of stuff! So basically, there has to be breathing room for an individual to develop with consideration to these factors. But realistically, how many people really understand these things? Show me one. Well then, that one is the exception to the negativity that ensues from stagnant societal interaction.

Continuing on about negativity from societal interaction, I have found that this exists everywhere! People want to recognize you, figure you out, compartmentalize you, tell you who you are – all based on their own perceptions. Instead, tell them – Get a life and let me be me, I see you trying to be you!

Even if someone is not holding you to their own perceptions of you and holding you to your former self (as objective as their perception of your former self can be) – really, how is that good either? If someone is constantly tell you, oh man you are like X, Y, Z… joking with you in the same manner, expecting you to enjoy the same things, how are you expecting yourself to develop if you allow yourself to be contained in a bubble that someone else has created for you? Or even an old bubble that you have created for yourself?

It is after refreshing experiences and moments where you can define who and what you want to be that a person can have a chance to assess who they are growing to become, hopefully we are all becoming better people, inshAllah.