- in the name of Allah -


Let me relate to you a little story, a small echo of self-revelation. There once was man, who walked every day across railroad tracks, in his mind a feat of no small making. Any day or anytime, whenever he chose to walk across those lines, there'd be no trains, or he'd walk off calmly in the nick of time. "My, what luck I must have, what fortune from my veins must bleed, walking howsoever I please", and so he walked one day back to his home, such thoughts ringing in his soul down deep. Not a stone's throw from his front door, still thinking the very same self-praise, he hummed his best tune, just as a car mowed him down were he but a blade of grass, helpless and thrown out with the trash.

- in the name of Allah -


Alhamdulillah, I have returned. After a 2 week hiatus overseas, its nice to be back to places where things are so much more familiar. That's not to say I wasn't able to pick up a few tidbits of wisdom along the way, but there's something about 'home' that makes it such an attractive place to be.

As might be expected, I can recount my blessings and fortuity with much greater clarity than before I left. Though living conditions there had improved generally, there were still occasional and sometimes prolonged power outages. The fact that water had to be pumped (as opposed to having it constantly pressurized) was also a cause for concern at times.

All in all, I'm glad I went, and in spite of my hesitancy, was able to come back with something worth remembering. Alhamdulillah.

- in the name of Allah -

(shapeless thoughts)
I could take words from the deepest depths
Or straddle syllables on the highest cliffs
But every time I'd try
All you would see are ancient glyphs

My story hasn't yet ended
The life goes on
Truth decays into commodity expended
And to our present, allegiances are sworn

I need to feel, more than anything else
To be at least alive, walking, breathing, myself

But as of now, my sight is clouded
Hidden without discipline, by apathy enshrouded

As is my sight, my soul becomes
Opening and closing at whim, an outdated serum

Reach out, reach back to me, let me find
That we're all still people, not as animals
Killing and maiming, chasing in kind
Each other's legacies,
Our own blades dropping in gold, a blood-made-wine

It's a catastrophe that to prepare for peace
One should ready for war
Where's our nature going, from where's it come,
When blood is our past, when blood is all that's in store?

Yeah, I know my problems are tiny, almost below radar
But even I sense them
Since even from them I'm actually quite far

I'm at a place self-preserved
Where emotion is a glacier without reserve
Hearts are lost, minds confounded
For they've lost all their nerve

There's no spunk, no vitality
Just a deep dark lake,
Pouring out timeless death for all to see.


////

- in the name of Allah -



Happiness is often one of the most elusive things in life. Sometimes it lands right in front of you without any effort; other times, you can work for years searching for the fruits of your labor and still nothing becomes of it.

One of the main reasons happiness is so elusive is because people go about searching for it the wrong way. You would think that happiness might be found in fulfilling your desires and wishes, right? It would make sense to say that if people had what they wanted, they would be happy. Reality, however, points us in a different direction. It isn't uncommon to see the rich and famous struggle to find fulfillment in their lives, to try and buy it from any and every possible source. It also wouldn't be hard to find a poor person who is happy with what they have. So, what really leads a person to happiness? Is it his or her rebellion against what is perceived as prescribed fate, or perhaps their apparent acquiescence to its decree? I honestly think both of them would be at a disadvantage: one would rebel forever and become able to find solace in not even the most obvious of things, while the other would eventually lose even the most basic of ambition to become better or find a better station in life.

The question arises again, then. How do you find happiness? The easiest and truest answer I could give someone lies in a single word: I s l a m. Translated into English, that would be: submitting one's self to God. A very wise person once said that it may be that what you like is bad for you, and what you dislike is good for you. If we judge everything that we perceive according to our own soul/ego, how could we ever find those things that are in fact the best for us...by ourselves? I don't think we ever could. The road to happiness is often times a solitary road, but not a lonely one. Once the realization is found that happiness is pretty much with God/Allah alone, the only step to take is forward, towards Him. Let there be no delusions about how difficult the path will be, about how sometimes things couldn't seem to get any worse. Life was made with both its ups and its downs. Indeed, with every hardship there follows ease.

After writing all of that, no doubt I need to reflect on it myself. It scares me sometimes how little I can be contented with, how trite and meaningless seemingly huge goals that other people have are to me, for me. Deep down, since as far back as I can remember, I was someone who loved fairness, hated inequality, prefer innocence even in its invariable absence. There was no meaning in the bullying people did, no meaning in calling people names, no meaning in carrying on with fistfights. Why? Because a just world, or rather a just people, needed none of those things. Happiness was as simple and easy and giving someone you did or didn't know a genuine smile. There are times when I still prefer the innocence of youth to the supposed wisdom of age and/or cynicism. Those times are long gone, but sometimes it was just like yesterday.

The only thing for me to do is put the earnest foot forward, seek the truth openly, and leave the rest to God.

- in the name of Allah -

quiet rain

as my various realities
come bearing down on me
I give pause to thought
"how long must this be?"

if I dared gaze at what has past
no doubt I'd drown
in sins and emptiness and regret
piled on high from sky till ground

a different lesson I'm learning
tales of ancients you might say
is that to forge a new path
sometimes you must lose your way

I'll be the first to recollect in curiosity
to muse at what could have been
had I been as wise back then

but but, before my aim is lost
before I reach for fruits long gone
I know these branches
are near to breaking, bound by timeless frost

as such, I proclaim for myself the only road
is the only one I've ever known

a trail where time goes in one direction
where looking back is mere confection

I guess I understand, why man is so oft doomed
to repeat his past and learn it not
for tomorrow's sake, he buries it soon

still..
I plead and beg and lay prostate on my face
for Allah to be my guide
and forever my support, my solace.

- in the name of Allah -

At this early hour, a seemingly random verse comes to mind, quoted above. A rough translation:

"..and whomever is saved from the greed of his own soul, it is they who are successful."
(Hashr, ayah 9)

Two things strike me about this ayah. One, that one's own soul is something that would require saving from (usually, we might think of needing protection from the devil, from external temptation, etc). Two, it reads "..whomever is saved..", not "..whomever saves him/her self.." - this lends itself to the true and actual dependency we have upon Allah on attempting to claim salvation.

It isn't by our own efforts that we would be saved from the fires of Jahannam, or granted the gardens of Jannah. It's something that must be sought after by the very core of one's heart. There's a reason Allah remembers those who remember Him, there's a reason that there is no reward for good, except good. Perhaps the only thing that should really concern us, that should catch us in our most attentive moments is this: that our end, and our beginning, and everything in between, are all with Allah and nothing and nowhere else.

- in the name of Allah -

internal constructs
9.21

Reaching for the stars, barely landing in the heavens,
The path has finally opened, if only for a second.
I catch whiff of a scent that could blind the senses,
My fancy is intrigued, blood pounding in throbbing temples.

The rush is too much, I'm becoming light-headed,
The door still inviting, but it seems I'm not yet ready.
Why must I awake from this opaque dream?
The clock reads a minute past, I swear an eternity it seemed.

Let me gaze for just a few decades,
Into crystalline orbs, tiny suns that shine on without age.
Granted such rare glory, such precious splendor,
Who would deny the touch of satin, the smell of lavender?

Remembering just one of countless rewards in store,
For he who'd lend his Rabb a goodly loan, and little more.
A blink of an eye, or an epic tale of endless pages,
Only fools need argue, a spat amongst wandless mages.

A winding road ahead, paved in prick of thorns,
Right is obvious, but can a nomad weather its storm?


iA.

- in the name of Allah -


How will I ever find time for mirrors and walls, when sometimes all I can read is writing not worth the scribble of restroom stalls? Introspection loses out to extroversion, saying a lot more than I did back then but without half the meaning or one-fourth the purpose. Socially fit, but socially disinclined, my mismatches abound when I thought I'd find the perfectly suited in no time. It's surprising to see friends grow even as I watch from a distance, their gazes don't quite reach me as much as they used to, I usually just miss them. A little sad, sure, but it's comforting knowing that they're heading places, if not physically than becoming better people (or better imitators of progress). Slight doubt or wonder aside, my own questions beg their time in the spotlight, but wait..they don't have any batteries. So what good is a wrong with a plan to be righted if it can only stand out against the darkness while everything else is nighted? Who knows, I only hold few things for certain, among them, a belief I have to have, or else I'd rather choose to not live than be just another soul, frightfully wondering who its Lord is and why it exists. My paths are never easy, same with the choices I have to make, but I think the worthwhile always needs effort, for the worthy to find their place.

- in the name of Allah -

Where would we be without people who cared? Whether it be family or friends, or acquaintances not seen in a million years, I think the overall progression of life would be quite different were it not for timely and necessary interference from others. Static life has a way of moving on without progressing, of going forward but lacking direction. Sometimes, an external stimulus is needed, howsoever small, to bring about the next step in personal evolution.

All of that leads me into why I'm writing this right now. Since my last post, things could not have been more different. I've been at the masjid more during Ramadhan in a week than I have the past 3 or 4 Ramadhans combined. People I haven't seen, in as long a time, I've met up with again, remarking on how things have changed and who's doing what where right now. In essence, two events stand out as precursors to any of this happening. First, at a friend's wedding a month or 2 back, a friend of a couple years asked me to come play basketball at the masjid, since they played almost every evening. I took his advice. Not a week or so ago, a nephew of mine asked me if I was going to pray Tarawih at the masjid like he was. Likewise, I listened to his suggestion. The rest, as they say, is history.

In effect, I've found that growing older doesn't necessarily limit what wisdom can be learned from those younger than us. It's often the things we think we've figured out already that need re-examining, and who better to see those things than those with eyes untainted by cynicism? If I continue to learn anything, it's that our perceptions aren't always laid in stone like we think they are. Just because I *think* I know what I'm doing or where I'm going, or how I'm affecting other people, doesn't have to mean that's really what's happening. Moreso now than ever, I doubt there's ever been a better time for everyone to reflect on their lives, about the paths they are taking, the choices they are making, and finding out for certain if the priorities they have in life are worth it as they, or if they need changing.

- in the name of Allah -


So, it's that time of year again. Ramadhan. The time of fasting, reflection, and a general flux amongst the Muslim communities worldwide as they search for ways to, at least, become better for this month.

My mental state, however, differs markedly from that. For the past 3 or 4 years, I've observed a somewhat disturbing trend of mine - to purposefully (or rather, lacking a reason/purpose) become more detached and somewhat reclusive than normal. What brings this about? I see the changes in my family most obviously, and it bothers me tremendously that people would say and do such pious things during this month that would otherwise, in any other month, be nearly cast away as meaningless. Do I have an internal revulsion to perceived hypocrisy, or am I just bogged down in a kind of laziness that encumbers the soul so it just doesn't feel like 'doing' anything anymore? As yet, I do not know the answer to this question. The drop off from Ramadhan compared to any other month is so large...I can't help but be entirely skeptical at the fate of mankind. That isn't to say the majority of my problem lies with other people. On the contrary, there is a significant internal difference, like a grandfather clock that decidedly moves slower during a particular time, but always inexplicably. People tell me to just go to the masjid more often during this month, and I wonder why they say something so simple. As of about a month or so ago, I actually started going on a more regular basis, alh, besides just for Jumu'ah. My reasons for going varied, but after embracing an acknowledged need for progress, I decided that the status quo could not remain any longer.

But this month...the rationality behind my behaviour eludes me entirely. I cannot fathom it, while my thinking just days prior was obvious gravitation towards being and becoming more deen-oriented and attending more prayers in congregation. So, it has to be something specific to Ramadhan that brings this supposed depression about. Why would the happiest month of the Islamic calendar shade its happiness from me? Is there perhaps an internal flaw in my thinking that requires re-evaluation? Is there a misunderstanding I have about what the month should mean for me? I pray it is not that I am destined to be of those deprived of mercy specifically in Ramadhan..insha'Allah. Truly, the question is there..but how am I to find its answer?