Friday, 31 August 2012

Heaven and Hijaab

She confided despite
The distance, in me
"I want to go to heaven"
She was teary eyed conviction
I was silent , surprised

Two years have passed
Her hair, longer, flowing
Out of that bandana hijab
She wore so fondly then
Hair- check, just neck and chest
She was one out of three
Getting there slowly

I feel the urge to ask, but don't
If she still feels with all that passion
Tinged with a sorrow I don't know
Just beneath the surface breaking
Through that hope and fear
For heaven

And it scares me that we
Could want something so fervently
Then so quickly bury it deep

Verily, Al-Abrar (the pious who fear Allah and avoid evil) will be in delight (Paradise).
On thrones, looking (at all things).
You will recognise in their faces the brightness of delight.
They will be given to drink pure sealed wine.
The last thereof (that wine) will be the smell of musk, and for this let (all) those strive who want to strive ( i.e earnestly to the obedience of God)
Surah Al-Mutaffifin

Sister, I'm not sure how much this means to you if anything and I know hijaab should be worn to please God and God alone but I thought you should know. I thought you should know that when you take off your hijaab, random strangers who you've probably not spoken to for more than 10 minutes, yes your estranged hijaabi sisters become sad... very sad.

I've updated the About Me section

My anon I received your email , wrote a reply but sis there seems to be something wrong with your email address ...when are you coming back?

Wednesday, 29 August 2012


I am faded henna looking
Back at the anti climax
Wondering how one day
Changed it all

They were veiled praying
With utmost humility
Crying with downcast eyes
Grabbing hold of an opportunity
Before they faded and hoping
With hearts swelling of forgiveness

They were striving
With thobes and tawpis
First row men at fajr time
Seeking for ten days like
the fibre of their being
Depended on it

Her eyes are painted ,black
Like a small testimony
To her former self
And she was shining nur, perhaps
she thought glitter would do
Constricted in her waist hugging
Dress that she'll wear once but
Never again.
Once is enough.

And the men they have eaten
Beyond their full and zuhr waits
and continues to wait deep
into the afternoon
They mark the end in a suit
With a silk tie

They say image is identity
We celebrate Eid like
Christmas minus the tree
Did we fall that quickly?
Or is the question
Who are we?

Fashion as a belief is manifested through clothing.
Yuniya Kawamura Fashion-ology

It was narrated that Ibn ‘Umar said: “The Messenger of Allaah (peace and blessings of Allaah be upon him) said: ‘Whoever imitates a people is one of them.’
Abu Dawud

Narrated by Ali ibn Abu Talib:
The Prophet of Allah (peace be upon him) took silk and held it in his right hand, and took gold and held it in his left hand and said: "both of these are prohibited to the males of my community"
Abu Dawud

Monday, 27 August 2012

Crazy Love

We are all madly in love.The love of fools which stems from deep within.That causes us to run after and clutch hold of things like needy children squabbling. This love that is so intoxicating,  as our eyelids close and crisp air fills our lungs one last time some of us finally see and others quite simply don't.It is a pushing and a pulling, a heaving sort feeling that stretches out inside us ,barely containable, as it touches the boundaries of our body. This emotion that we have failed to understand, to appreciate is the driving force of our being, it is irrevocably interconnected us. It is malformed truths , unfulfilled rights , it is striving and falling at the same time . It is so tangible that we can feel it in the pulse of our hearts repeating words of I miss you and I am sorry . It is a grandeur that some cannot endure defining the men from the boys. We push it aside we hold it so dearly tight that we squeeze the life out of it and us . Through this capacity of epic proportion that we contain, this remarkable ability to feel that bubbles away inside of us we wander aimlessly on this earth .

Dear Humanity,
I apologize, I really should have told you earlier but your lack of appreciation , of wondering , of simply thinking and reflecting , your incessant desire to push the boundaries beyond what is good for you or I , to transgress in a downward spiraling fashion chasing after your whims , to forget the purity of emotion , to the forget the once purity of your own self has led to this .
You see, humanity , to my untrained red, swollen eyes you in your lustful,unchivalrous, selfish way have, it seems, destroyed love.

  “…and do not come near Zina; indeed, it is an abomination and an evil way”
Quran Al-Isra’: 32

For Zina and love to be synonymous with each other by our own measly definitions has indeed brought a great sadness to this heart. Zina is ugly , it is lustful it is chasing after your own interest with no regards to commitment and it is a flagrant disobedience. Love on the other hand is ...

“To say حـب one must commit the entire mouth from the throat to the lips, symbolic of the commitment of life in love.”

Please Niqaabis, Hijaabis, Muslimahs, my sisters. The potential to love is great, but like many things in life, the wrong circumstance can have fatal consequences. Your heart is beautiful so value it .

Friday, 24 August 2012


I can see it’s alive
That means you’re nearly dead
And I wince when I see you
Because I can see the darkness too 

At least cover it up I plead
The bad of effects of a bad deed
Don’t stand bare in front of us all
But you don’t seem to take head

And you’re becoming more exposed
Head, shoulders knees to toes
But maybe I should ask your lover
Shouldn’t you be clothing for one another?

"They are clothing for you, and you for them"
Quran 2: 187

Personal Statement

I'm having a little bit of trouble writing my personal statement/choosing a course/ choosing a University and needed to vent the frustration.

So Red-Brick Uni is it ?
Tell me a bit about yourself
Well I come from a prestigious back-
Yes yes but how is that relevant to me
I have a lot of experience in-
But its not really the same is it
You can't possibly compare that to me
But go on why should I go to your Uni
Well the buildings are traditional and really
quite pretty with stained glass
Oh dear I don't mean to be crass
But isn't that a tad discriminatory
Ahem well the food is cheap and-
You don't seem to have much to offer
Well yes, I mean no
I've been established for 600 hundred years or so
Give it another 600 years and then come back
Would it be possible to get some feedback for this interview
Pretentious, obnoxious, a bit slow , no real interest
Failure to , well just failure I suppose

Thursday, 23 August 2012


Expectations push our own limits
Our own personal reality
It is easier to remain confined
If you never touch the walls
How do you know
If you are boxed in
So when I expect of you
Know that these grand and fanciful
Dreams are neither
Know that you were once that person
That you have within you all of these qualities
It hurts doesn't it to know you have fallen
It is so much easier to blame me
To ignore the actual reality beyond
This bubble of a measly person you've
Allowed yourself to become
I was once so mesmerized by
You, but you are no longer
So I expect of you nothing but
To be true to yourself
Because if nothing else
You were beautiful then.

Wednesday, 22 August 2012


Delays come unexpectedly dragging
Out the days with events that have meaning
For brief moments before we
Collapse sighing onto comfy beds

I have seen the world in stanzas
Poetry and prose on the tips
It is falling into an abyss of stuff
That needs doing , now ?
Yes, now. Life commands
Her voice drowning
Me and the verse

So I sit now so well rehearsed
Filled with the life that has pushed me
To my knees these last few days
"Write" says my soul to my heart
But she is new and learning
As the words are said she
Hesitates and the lights turn red

I apologize for the lack of posts . I have indeed been thinking poetry again and again in my head like the wild English eccentric I would so love to be . But circumstance has not been on my side lately ... I shall be updating you with this weeks happenings shortly though ( through the medium of poetry and prose of course)

Thursday, 16 August 2012


Why are we so afraid to
Set the alarm for 2:00 am
Pry back the curtains and
Watch with hazy eyes
the expanse.
Why are we so afraid to
See the stars when others
Sleep though branches bow.
Would it hurt to just,
think about how purple
The sky is tonight

Wednesday, 15 August 2012


There is a deep sinking feeling in the pits
Of our stomachs in the midst of Ramadan
You would think that fasting was the culprit
But alas it is that time of year
It seems they have scrapped the envelopes
Save the trees and the excuses
No more detracting attention with
I have a paper cut I can't possibly go on
No , no we must brave the choices
And see with a click the string of letters
That defines our work for this year
It is strange how afraid I am that they'll
Get it wrong that perhaps the diligent
Will be left behind and the idle made to prosper
And then an example comes to mind
That if on that day that is done with justice
God's mercy to me I do not find
Then I will be thrust without a hope
In hell where forever I will abide
And though the questions are only three
I must live the answers to get it right
So bitter sweet perspective only comes
When a fraction of this life is divided by

The Prophet (saws) said: “When a believer is buried in the grave two angels will come to him , make him sit up, and ask :‘Who is your Lord?’He will reply: ‘My Lord is Allah.’They will ask him: ‘What is your religion?’ He will reply: ‘My religion is Islam.’ They will ask him: ‘What is your opinion about the man who was sent on a mission among you?’ He will reply: ‘He is the Messenger of Allah (peace be upon him).’ They will ask: ‘ Who made you aware of this?’ He will reply: ‘I read Allah's Book, believed in it, and considered it true.’ Then a crier will call from Heaven: ‘My servant has spoken the truth. So spread a bed for him from Paradise, clothe him from Paradise, and open a door for him into Paradise.’ Then some of its air and perfume will come to him, and a space will be made for him as far as the eye can see.
At the death of the unbeliever his soul will be restored to his body in the grave. Then two angels will come to him. They will make him sit up and ask him: ‘Who is your Lord?’ He will reply: ‘Alas, alas! I do not know.’ They will ask him: ‘What is your religion?’ He will reply: ‘Alas, alas! I do not know.’ They will ask: ‘Who was the man who was sent on a mission among you?’ He will reply: ‘Alas, alas! I do not know.’ Then a crier will call from Heaven: ‘He has lied, so spread a bed for him from Hell, clothe him from Hell, and open for him a door into Hell. Then some of its heat and burning hot wind will come to him, and his grave will be compressed, such that his ribs will be crushed together. An angel who is blind and dumb will then be placed in charge of him, having a sledge-hammer, such that, if a mountain were struck with it, it would become dust. He will give him a blow with it, which will be heard by everything between the east and the west except by men and jinn, and he will become dust. Then his soul will be restored to him (again).
Abu Dawood 
Hadith 4735


In some eccentric little nook or cranny lives
An elderly lady with rocking chair and crochet hook
My irrevocably whimsical secret
Is the sum of unkempt writing held
In a leather bound notebook

And she is leaving from home unknown
To a place that I imagine as green
Leaves silently pool on still water
The type of place where time is still
And our fumbling little minds are at awe
That tree is breathtaking , so indescribable ...
so tall

And through my writing I can't claim
That two hearts binded just the same
To disclose your soul is a great betrayal
To lies by which we live our lives
To find somebody to read the truth
To nod their head and say I know
You, if hands don't meet but hearts combine
That is greater to these humbled eyes

And though she is gone she is
Swamps and love
And she is to me
No longer anon

Tuesday, 14 August 2012

Odd Nights

She is taking the midnight train heading to
A destination unknown
Dark bricks silently pass her
Nobody cares for those underground
Those who spend the night wandering
Aimlessly through self constructed tunnels

The scene is from a black and white film
She is young , biting lips and fighting
A battle against the tears
Through the void it is hard
To make lifelong friends who
Leave at the next stop
Everything is empty her eyes fixated
So her mind won't ask

It is easy to get off
This is my stop they say so flippantly
But it is harder , much harder to tell the world
I'm on the wrong train and I've been on it for far too long
Pushing past commuters so caught up they hardly budge
To pry open the doors and
Jump because it is as you whisper before
The fall 'this is the wrong train'

Odd nights come after
The rush hour , they come
When staring at the silver moon you
Realise that you were wrong and
You are scared because the Conductors voice
Lifts from the back of the cabin
'It's the end of the line folks'

They said, "Our Lord, we have wronged ourselves, and if You do not forgive us and have mercy upon us, we will surely be among the losers."
Surah Al A'araf
Verse 23

Monday, 13 August 2012

Qualified Hijaabi ❤

So I thought to myself how do you know that you're a hijaabi. I mean a hijaabi not somebody who wears a hijaab that in this day and age has unfortunately become two completely different things .So I have written an uncompleted and unofficial list to answer a question I  really didn't need to ask . So here it goes

1)You know what a burkini is .
2) When it comes to weather forecasts windy days scare you more than rainy days
3) You have an intimidatingly large collection of pins . You have a container that holds your collection of pins
4) Somebody knocks at the door and nobody else is home. You open the curtains ever so slightly and see who it is
Scenario A - It is a women so you put on your hijaab regardless and open the door
Scenario B-  It is a man ( stranger or family is irrelevant) . You hold incredibly still hoping he hasn't seen you. You wait until he is a few meters from the house before you resume normal activity.
5) Your parents leave the house . You go on to Quran explorer find your favourite surah , try to decide between a bunch of reciters and then play the surah as loud as your speakers will allow
6) You have a signature hijaab style
7) The words 'The coverage is awesome ' have been uttered by you and you were not referring to a sports a programme
8) You have at some point in your life experienced Hijaab Hair
9) You may on occasion refer to your scarf as a cape
10) You seriously consider crossing over to the other side of  the street if there are too many men on your side
11) You can put on a hijaab in 5 seconds flat
12) You hide in your bedroom when male relatives come round because you really can't be bothered to put your hijaab and abaya on in your own house
13) When people try to describe you to other people they say the generic statement 'y'know she wears a hijaab and abaya its normally black umm ... yeh'
14) When people say Hi-jab or He-jeb you're not fazed even for a moment , you know instinctively they mean Hijaab
15) You can do the 'abaya jig '
16) You wish you were a Hijaabi with Swag ( the good kind of swag clicky here )
17) You write poems/articles/reflections/pointless lists about the Hijaab because you think it's the bees knees 

I hope you enjoyed my purely fictitious list. For those who it may concern some arbitrary number, say 5 criteria, is what you need to fully qualify as a Hijaabi according to these purely imaginary requirements that hold no actual weight when it comes to determining a Hijaabi.
Comment and add your own over the top Hijaabi behaviour.

“Say to the believing men that they should lower their gaze and guard their modesty: that will make for greater purity for them: and Allah is well acquainted with all that they do.
And say to the believing women that they should lower their gaze and guard their modesty; that they should not display their beauty and ornaments except what (must ordinarily) appear thereof; that they should draw their veils over their bosoms except to their husbands, their fathers, their husbands’ fathers, their sons, their husbands’ sons, their brothers or their brothers’ sons, or their sisters’ sons, or their women, or the slaves whom their right hands possess, or male servants free of physical needs, or small children who have no sense of the shame of sex; and that they should not strike their feet in order to draw attention to their hidden ornaments. And O ye Believers! Turn ye all together towards Allah, that ye may attain Bliss.”

Surah 24

Verses 30-31


I wonder though the trivialities of life,
I wonder with neither arrogance nor pride
But rather with the dampened curiosity of autumn leaves
That stick to my shoe with the impeding hope of winter snow
That these cheeks will flush red again and that the numbing
Of these gentle hands will stir this soul to life
I wonder at the stars their splendour
That perhaps through darkness I shall shine
When the sun and loving care hath retired
And the world will sleep sublime
That when thy eyes have closed
I shall my beauty find

"(God) is the One Who has set out for you the stars, that you may guide yourselves by them through the darkness of the land and of the sea. We have detailed the signs for people who know."
Surah 6 Verse 97

Sunday, 12 August 2012


I wonder if tonight is the night that the path of my destiny will change . That perhaps by a gesture as small as asking with a heart full of hope of receiving that I could too run . That I could run with steps that push to the horizon and beyond, that say to this heart breathe harder because you're almost there! Steps that turn meekly towards God and say I was wrong. And that without your mercy, without your love I will have lost a loss so great that I would mourn for eternity . So these empty palms plead Oh the one who sustains me encompass me in all that is good , forgive me and on this night bring me closer . Bring me so tantalizingly close that the world and everything in it will be of no regard , bring me so close that this body may break with ecstasy , that this heart will tremble, that miserable sins will vanish and this forehead may never rise from sujood.

The best of words are that from the Book of God but I shan't quote it for when it comes to the mercy of God I would like to believe that us with our stone cold hearts that even we have not forgotten that natural inclination to return . Surely life in itself is a testimony to God's mercy .And surely the alienation has gone too far and tonight we shall learn again what true love is and where the hearts will find peace.


           You’re definitely thinking about something but what? Chin resting on his clasped hands he stared forward, seemingly preoccupied by the wood grain of the table. She twiddled with her bracelet, the silence making her uncomfortable. Out of nowhere he orders a hot drink only for her, grateful for the opportunity to speak she tells him profusely there really was no need for that. She is ignored and so she recedes back to her bracelet, secretly trying to work out what kind of strange mind game he was playing. After sometime the waiter served her whilst trying to conceal his curiosity about these two silent youngsters. She rolled her eyes if I knew what he was up to I would sure let you know she thought to herself.  He was looking at his watch anxious about Asr time probably. Something about Ramadan had changed him greatly; her admiration of him left a bitter taste in her mouth. She drank her tea quickly, he waited for her and then without a word he got up. That was her cue to leave with him.
            She disliked him for that. Why couldn’t he say the words that tugged at his lips and played in his heart again and again? Why wouldn’t he tell her that she wasn’t good enough, not religious enough not righteous enough, not pious enough. Even more so she loathed herself for she knew he was right. For she knew that he had surpassed her in ways that she couldn’t imagine. She saw the beauty of his character and the passion with which he worshipped as his light shone brighter and brighter she began to feel more exposed.
He, on the other hand longed to take her with him, but he doubted himself, he had journeyed to the depths of his soul and come back to see he was not ready to carry another. He saw the diseases of his heart and the darkness of his past. He adored her and wanted nothing more to stand by her side but he was too weak, too young and too naïve.  

It rips us sinew from sinew that perhaps the one we love , the one who our heart has been intoxicated with, is perhaps not meant for us . To know even further that it is you in your stupidity in your lack of self restraint which is the barrier that stands between the object of desire , well that is enough to break the heart itself. So though we choose to ignore and thrust the weight of destiny into our feeble hands , to God belongs our hearts and the authority . The truth is written. Perhaps it is easier to give our limp hearts to others but we know and we always knew that the grueling , painstaking process of mending must be done by us.
“Impure women are for impure men and impure men are for impure women. Pure women are for pure men and pure men are for pure women.”
Quran, 24:26

Saturday, 11 August 2012


We are grey
Stripped of colour and life
Weak minds focus on snapping strings
Of broken connections and hearts
We were filled
With life and smiles and distant times

She lays in the coffin
Pulled , anxiety ridden features relaxed
I stared at a body, I yearned for the soul
I know there are stories she never told
I never heard
They are crying

There was a time that I
Did not exist
The fruition of the broken promise
From felonious branches
Will come to pass again

'But Satan whispered evil to him: he said, "O Adam! shall I lead thee to the Tree of Eternity and to a kingdom that never decays?'
Surah Taha
Verse 120

Friday, 10 August 2012


          Ambling down the path, gusty winds blowing up our hijaabs. I sighed and began to read hesitantly from the paper in front of me. It was a nippy sort of day, sun shining sleepily lost amidst soft clouds, birds chirping and grass bending over reproachfully a dream like backdrop to our short escape from reality.  In my peripheral vision your head lowered, intense concentration on the weed stricken path and nerves got the better of me for a moment, I muddled my well rehearsed lines. You didn’t seem to notice.
           We reached our destination the sheltered abode away from the laugher and mindless chatter of students and where unwanted eyes couldn’t see, if not for our age it could be referred to as a clubhouse. It was so much more though, with its overhung branches, the air scented with recitation of Quran and memories laced with smiles and sisterhood - this was our spiritual retreat.  I had but a few more lines to recite and the almost tangible feeling of acceptance that often comes with familiar places urged me on. As if we were the missing puzzle piece in the oh so comforting scenery. As I spoke the words they caught in the wind and whirled around us dizzily and it pushed with hope like sunshine falling softly on our backs as we turned, echoed in the trilling and as our footsteps quietened the words were locked in the very fabric of time. I was no longer afraid.
          The planets float in a rehearsed orbit so intricately designed and yet there is a moment when they meet. They don’t collide but the moon is simply in phase with the sun and there is a connection between these two bodies of floating matter.
           It was an eclipse of the heart, earth unaware, but perfectly placed and positioned it was beautiful by my own admission .You smiled. We returned. And I thought it sad how unaware the world, the sun danced with the moon and nobody even knew. Suddenly that irregularity in our day seemed to fade pointlessly; indoor heating causing my skin to tingle and the hustle and bustle of normality seemed a disappointment. I voiced my regret. Nobody knows what words have just been spoken and how the hearts have been awoken. And my companion look concerned for an instant and then her hazel eyes declared Allah knows. I nodded my head slowly as the profoundness of the statement sunk in. Content, we returned to the prayer room.

Moving On

How to let go of what I have not attained
When all I wish is that today was yesterday
When to move forward means to leave behind
When waiting till I’m ready is waiting till I die

Trying to pretend that the person I am today
Is the person I want to be
For what scares me too much
Is the thought of just being me

I’m not sure what I’m hiding from
Even if I can’t accept it I know what I need to do
But when you’re fighting yourself
There’s no escaping you

I don’t want to say goodbye to the people I knew
If only they would come with me too
For without them I don’t know what to do
But then is that really moving on

If I take everything with me
Then nothing has changed,
My life is still stuck in the same old place
But then there’s the question – do I really want to move on?

For I know it will be difficult, hardship and pain
But I know if I lose everything I’ll have everything to gain
Then why is it so hard just to let go of it all
Because when your not holding on your more likely to fall

Perhaps I was never meant to be like that person
It’s like starting to run when you’ve already lost the race
I’m competing for something I fear I will never win
So I’ve lost all hope to even begin

But yet inside of me is that 5 year old child
Who dreams to cross the finish line
But I refuse to let her speak to me
For I don’t know who she is you see

Like a lost part of me, who desires for more
More than a life forgotten in years
More than a series of laughter and tears
More than just a pointless usage of time and space

Don’t you remember when you were young
And you wanted to change everything
And the solutions were so simple and you were so brave
And life was so easy for you knew the way

And when your heart made a conviction
You stood against the world
You couldn’t read a book
But killed giants with your words

Oh what would she say if she saw you now?
Her lips tight and a baby frown
And more importantly what would you say
You forgot your conviction every moment of the day

Don’t you owe it to the person that you once were?
To accept what you always knew was true
And I mean really accept it as the truth
So much so that it becomes the only guide for you

And to change the world like you always knew you could
Starting one heart at a time, with the most corrupt which is mine
Grab a shovel and remove the dirt
A lifetime of sins it’s going to hurt

If life is a game then you’re already in it
You’ve rolled the dice you have to move
Scared to climb a ladder, then get eaten by a snake
Even if you close your eyes you’re still awake

You can stand still and pretend that everything is the same
But the earth will still rotate, and the seasons will change
If you don’t decide who you’re going to be
Then your past will never set you free

Thursday, 9 August 2012

Wandering Thoughts

Tucked away neatly in the corner of my mind
Beneath laundry that needs folding
Dishes that need cleaning
Below that film of dust on my computer screen
Busying myself with the to do list that is life
Running errands and quick phone calls
For as long as the sun is up
I’m an onion chopping, tea serving,
Bathroom cleaning, aunty pleasing machine
I run to clean dribble off  random nieces faces
International calls from all too foreign places
When ladies gossip erupts into family politics
 I’m left with soggy samosas and lukewarm chai
And unusually quick goodbyes
It is in those moments as the sun declines
As the foamy glory in my hands submerges the china set
When rolled up sleeves still manage to get wet
And I  stare  at the almost purple sky
I feel you uncurling , unwinding from the confines of my mind
In my peripheral vision where you abide
My shoulders they ache , long hours with no break
But hidden burdens weigh
More heavily on the heart
As much as I try to compartmentalise you
To shove you, lovingly that is, to one side
You seem to burst at the corners
Seeping into the foreground
It’s so typical of you, I sigh,
To refuse that neat little package I’ve assigned you to
My irritation manifested by pouting lips
You know all to well my need for things to be just so
Perhaps that’s why this is so amusing for you
The glint of your teeth as you smirk
I drop the plate
It breaks.


We are wretched palms pointing to the sky
Shoulders hunched, the tongue is tentative, shy
They know
They know, the discomfited history that weighs
Heavily on the knees and back
The hypocrisy by which we stand here exposed,naked
The audacity by which we ask
As if we were every worthy
As if we ever deserved this
We were not granted second chances
Just chances unlimited so when
Will greedy hands and heedless hearts be at shame
It has been a year and truth is we didn't even try, to strive
So do we really ask for things so coveted
That had we praised the Lord with all the sea as ink
It would have dried before the praise had a chance to be fulfilled
Do these hands whose joints have yet to move
The souls who have died in causes unworthy
Through the idle , pointless lives that we have lived
Dare to ask?
Yes, ask and I will forgive you
Though the shame fills our throats
And the sins they cling to diseased hearts
In the darkness we know
That of everything of generosity and love
That there is nothing except God
So we return humbled, hoping

'Say: O My servants who have transgressed against their own souls, despair not of the mercy of Allah. Indeed, Allah forgives all sins. Truly, He is Most Forgiving, Most Merciful.'
Surah az-Zumar 39:53

Wednesday, 8 August 2012


Short/cute , not terribly well written poem to all those itikaafers (not an actaul word) out there

Yes they are camping in the mosque
They are living on Quran
Their foreheads touch the dust
The hearts that sink in fear and hope
Rise higher on that day y'know
The dates are halved and the plates are cleared
The soul alive finally aware
They stoke the fire of guidance
That shines the light to fajr time
On the back of men, of monks , of knights
They left the world with sheer delight
To grab on to burning coals
That shed the sins like God knows
The flowing tears soak the beards
On dusk of the final day
Those righteous men
That guard their darkness and the night
With the Lord they have found respite
Yes on day ten dusk
They would have finished
Camping in the mosque

Tuesday, 7 August 2012

Keep it Simple

They stand on a two step ladder today
Inviting to everything that brings them joy
They speak of that which makes hands tremble and
Smiles wide as eyes search for full moons
They call to that which moves their feet
To run before dawn, to that
Which joins the heart and paints the soul
With loving strokes of colours not yet seen
And their eyes they shine with tears sublime
That speak the words of a journey, that
Breaks bones and builds homes , that gives you
Nothing yet is coated with a thin film
of golden everything
That pushes them to call on rainy days
That perhaps the sweet concoction of
Guidance was meant for you today
For the ranks will be higher on judgment day

The truth bubbles under my skin
If I could stand on that ladder
I would scream until my heart
Pops from its place
‘You say, I am oppressed’
Commuters look  in dismay
At this poor veiled face
Arguments, logic, rhetoric
None seem appropriate
How can you describe what
Blows through souls like a light headed dream
That pushes to excellence beyond what you see
I am the strawberries it is whipped cream
I bleed kindness and generosity
It in its splendor tastes all the more sweet
‘Yes , you!
You say I am oppressed
Well’, a pause for breathe before
The pigeons take flight

Apologies for the reference to food . For all those who are fasting 
"Every action of the son of Adam is given manifold reward, each good deed receiving then times its like, up to seven hundred times. Allah the Most High said, 'Except for fasting, for it is for Me and I will give recompense for it, he leaves off his desires and his food for Me.' For the fasting person there are two times of joy; a time when he breaks his fast and a time of joy when he meets his Lord, and the smell coming from the mouth of the fasting person is better with Allah than the smell of musk."

Soothing the Soul

It is quiet nights, reflections
Show the substance inside
That tiny bit of oomph that runs
The engine faster than our hearts
Can breathe
That swirls in our peripheral vision
Screaming look at me
Deep down we are needy
Children growing slowly on the
Soft carpet of comfort and familiarity
People, though they try
can give really bad advice
Nattering tongues afraid say
Let the poor thing scream
It's good for its lungs

Monday, 6 August 2012

The Human Being

Grey cracked palms stare.
Freshly plastered walls drip
With the ink
That wretched fingertips cannot change
Calamities hammer nails
Into the coffin.
Eyes open to , yet so unaware
Of rusted metal within an inch
Of our lives
That shrivel into
The nothingness from which we came
Reclaiming heavy hearted faith
That paltry prayers reach deeper
Than our throats
So the hope, stretches out
Like open arms , narrow beams of
Freedom rebound
As we are told that
What escapes is only dreams
That lie beyond this place

Narrated 'Abdullah: The Prophet drew a square and then drew a line in the middle of it and let it extend outside the square and then drew several small lines attached to that central line, and said, "This is the human being, and this, (the square) in his lease of life, encircles him from all sides (or has encircled him), and this (line), which is outside (the square), is his hope, and these small lines are the calamities and troubles (which may befall him), and if one misses him, an-other will snap (i.e. overtake) him, and if the other misses him, a third will snap (i.e. overtake) him."

Halfway House

He is clean shaven woken
5 minutes after Iftaari
Privately educated, degree-
Less than what his mother hoped
Car costs the price of a house
He never bothered to buy
Interest rates high
Swapping cards like
Fake guises, on the run
To pray Jummah
On Fridays
It is all he ever knew.

She is veiled yet
Open necked with a
Face painted prettily
She is abayas with
Rolled up sleeves
She dreams to be Prom queen
Glitz and Glam is all she’s seen
All her friends talk about is t.v
Life is dull and predictable 
So to trained eyes she is susceptible
She fogs her brain with shisha smoke  
Good grades bought
Parents happiness cheaply
So it easy to stay
Up late texting him
Then praying Fajr when
Her battery dies
For it is all she ever knew

We were the Ummah of
 Muhammad upon him be peace
Now this is an Ummah filled with Mo’s
Replacements are quick to come by
In the court of God lies
Questions to be asked
Didn’t we know ?

There are seven whom Allah ill shade in His Shade on the Day when there is no shade except His Shade: a just ruler; a youth who grew up in the worship of Allah, the Mighty and Majestic; a man whose heart is attached to the mosques; two men who love each other for Allah's sake, meeting for that and parting upon that; a man who is called by a woman of beauty and position [for illegal intercourse], but be says: 'I fear Allah', a man who gives in charity and hides it, such that his left hand does not know what his right hand gives in charity; and a man who remembered Allah in private and so his eyes shed tears.' 
Narrated by Abu Hurairah
Sahih al-Bukhari & Sahih Muslim 

Sunday, 5 August 2012


I watch the numbers consume you
You’re inching closer and closer to Zero
When in reality you are something more
Than skipped breakfasts lunches and dinners
Didn’t anyone tell you punishments are only for sinners?
Have you befriended Ana over those who are your sisters
 If you see my friend let her know that I have missed her 
Our bodies are our responsibility
Allah has made us trustees
And that is why we must eat
Oh if only it was that simple
Perhaps I will never see it the way you do
But that doesn't mean I don’t care about you
The truth is food is a blessing a gift from above
It is a mercy, it is a peace and a tranquillity
It is being content and fulfilled and at ease with yourself
How could food have all that spiritual wealth
It is not the food itself
But the obeying of Allah’s command
Our body has a right upon us
Have you committed sin by accepting a present from your creator
The shaper, the maker
Did he make a mistake?
By not giving you a 18 inch waist
 Gentle hearted soul would never starve another
Then why do you forbid yourself
Do not make Haraam what been made halal
The strong  believer is more beloved than the weak
Oh what number do you seek
Seven ajwa dates better than an empty plate
Run after Quran and hadith
1/3 food, 1/3 drink and 1/3 empty
You can trick your metabolism but you won’t trick me
Your restricted intakes scare me
For you were beautiful when you were free
Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels
Trading jannah for something unreal
No need for thinspiration
Where is our admiration for the truth
 I love you sister because we are one and the same
The same blood in our veins
Give me your grief and your pain
Whatever hurts your soul on lonely nights is mine
I wish to share something, so precious with you
I pray you will trust me the way I trust you
Dip your finger in the honey that is iman
Let the sweetness of faith keep you from harm
And let go
Give your body and your soul
To the one who has full control
To the one who has the decree
Verily Ana is just a Qareen
A Cursed enemy

Friday, 3 August 2012


Silvery scaled black fish
Swim amongst the school
She is swift, retiring amongst
The backdrop of the sea
She dodges gracefully
Currents that lead
To her streamlined body
Touching seaweed

She is a Hijaabi
With hands in pockets
Fighting to keep strands
Of modesty tucked beneath
Her scarf on windy days
Though even for the poised
And ready,no number of safety
Pins could secure
Victory in one way streams

In my moments of stupidity
I,a hijaabi, walked up the stairs
The wrong way
Eyes lowered in shame
Could feel the frowns all the same
Yet they moved, not one, not two
They swayed like ocean currents
Moving in accordance to a silver moon
Untouched , unscathed I stood
At the tops of the stairs that day

And as is human nature to share
An ecstatic exchange of words
So I went to tell her
'You won't believe
What happened to me-'
Knocked but not fallen
'Sorry i was going to say-'
Thumpty thump
Never mind

This time around
you win some you lose some
because, truth is
Even fishes can drown

Narrated on the authority of Anas bin Malik, the Prophet (saw) said: When lewdness is a part of anything, it becomes defective; and when haya is a part of anything it becomes beautiful.

This post is filled with irony . Not lest the fact that as I was writing this post I decided to put in a quick reminder about the importance of spacial awareness in mixed schools only to be met with a door to the face about two hours later.  If my ditsy nature was actually a metaphor the lessons to be learnt from this story would be as long as you are striving and trying to climb higher and higher Allah will make the path easy for you. It is sad but to be honest something I've noticed too much with my own self is that we ask for jannah yet deep down we know we're not worthy . And above all we know in our heedless state we're not even trying. May this Ramadan be an opportunity to rectify this.

Thursday, 2 August 2012

The House

Balconies, white marble beneath
My feet and heart trembling
Elephants shot down miserably
Crying baby seeking
Refuge from the heat
Through water that will not cease
The bounty of the Lord is without measure
Four walls built by a blessed few
The time is coming soon
Where unruly hands shall plunder
Her of her beauty and her treasure

I stand on the balcony
Wondering how black
Could be so bright
It is night for the world
Except us,
Barefooted not touching sand
Quenched by AC and fans
Paper cups stand on guard
To feed water to the pilgrims
I stare at her as she stands
She is a veiled testimony
To our history
Indescribable elegance
Tranquility as she fills
The space between
This heart and the stories and the places
And the humble lowered eyes
Of honoured messengers faces
She has seen the struggle and is
The hope for unity

She is but bricks
But how much harder
The heart which doesn't love
The receiver of the prophets lips
Peace be unto him,
How much colder
The soul which doesn't respect
The place that God chose
To direct his worship
To him alone

"Behold! We gave the site, To Abraham, of the (Sacred) House (i.e., the Kaaba), (Saying): 'Associate not anything (In worship) with Me; And sanctify My House For those who compass it round, Or stand up, Or bow, or prostrate themselves (Therein in prayer). And proclaim the Pilgrimage among men: they will come to thee on foot and (mounted) on every kind of camel, lean on account of journeys through deep and distant mountain highways;

Wednesday, 1 August 2012


We are overflowing
Pots of bubbliness like
Foam on the sea of
Antics and memories
We have burnt tenacious
Hands on the edge
Through the pain we grip
The spoon and stir
Aah gastronomy,
the science of pi

We are lost in
Streets we knew so well
Biding time
Its strange I didn't notice how
The silence fell
Why are we staring at the floor
I ignore words tugging
At my lips, for now
I wish to
Amble and that is it

It is the last day too soon
The words should trip
Over themselves
I'm sorry I am going
While knowing how everyone
You have loved leaves too soon
Forgive me for failed rights
Slips of the tongue and untruths
Through the nonsense I have
Uttered this year
Why can't I say I will miss you

Yes we are overflowing, scalding
Hot headed youths,
Today the pot runs dry
In my life , I wonder how
Many times I will fail
To say
Sorry and goodbye

'And hold fast , all of you together to the rope of Allah , and do not separate'

Abdallah ibn ‘Amr ibn al-’As reported that the Prophet (may Allah be pleased with him) said:

“The supplication that gets the quickest answer is the one made by one Muslim for another in his absence.”
Abu Daw’ud and Tirmidhi
If I leave you with nothing else , then know that I will make dua for you. For our hands are empty, incapable except for whatever Allah grants us.