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 .

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

Spiritual Limbo

The faces of some, grown old

Mouths shrivelled, move rhythmically to praise
Hands tremble as they count

To one hundred.

They have spent their efforts, their wealth

Their life.

Yet to my untrained eye

Their hands are empty, upturned.
Irrelevant to patient hearts, at ease

She stands at the podium
The fragility of her words carry

She shakes fervently trying

To convey a message of wisdom and truth

To stir the hearts

But they do not move

The girl I sit next to

Is my age and MSA

She is texting and tweeting about

The programme today

And though there is a hijaab
Piled on top of her head

It is not the same

Spiritual limbo

Is being torn between

Aunties with scarves that cover their chins

Slim fit Abayas, brooches and sparkly things

It is standing on a broad line
And being told both sides are correct

It is knowing but being unable to accept
The former over the latter

I cry tears of the unworthy

Unable to associate with either

They stack green, plastic chairs

So I am left in a room filled with believers

Alone

Swag

Not your conventional subject matter...

Hijaabi Got Swag

Yep you read that right

Hijaabi got swag

We know how to move

Eyes lowered to the ground

Feet move without a sound

Ears feeling cold in the winter

Hijaabi’s got it covered

Forgot your house key

Here borrow my headscarf pin

And unpick the lock

Damn I ripped my top

Why don’t you sew it up

Because hijaabis got tassels

I’m late I’m going to miss my bus

Grab onto the hijaabi

She’s got a cape and she can fly

Well not quite

But it does flap in the wind

Hijaabis strong enough to grab

A falling wooden partition

Hijaabi’s swift enough

To avoid getting the cooties

Hijaabis so flowy

You don’t know where

She ends or where she begins

The elements can’t harm hijaabi

The rain has met its foe

The sun has met its match

Hijaabi doesn’t tan

Just loosen it a bit

And look hijaabis got a hood

Hijaabi has no arms!

Well actually she just has pockets

Are you falling of a cliff?

Well Hijaabi’s got a rope

Hijaabi is everyone’s sis

Hijaabi’s got her crew in the prayer room

Hijaabi sends you peace

Because the religion is easy

Hijaabi has got the moves

She does the wrap ‘n’ tuck in the blink of an eye

Climate change – the ozone layer is dead

But not hijaabi (well not yet)

UV Lights prepared to be absorbed

Even the wind won’t damage Hijaabi’s hair

And if you start spouting nonsense hijaabi doesn’t care

Because three layers of pashmina later

She probably can’t even hear you

Hijaabi makes the tough guys move

Is someone’s cigarette up in smoke

Hijaabi can put it out

Just moves her hijaab and makes a breeze

It’s Allah that she aims to please

That’s why hijaabi is so awesome

That’s why she’s not just wearing a paper bag

And that’s why Hijaabi’s got swag

Oh and just a small request

Since Urban dictionary didn’t really help

If you could kindly tell me sis

What swag actually is?

Balance

There is a broken safety pin
Bent out of shape by demands
Of my jugular vein.
Snagging the fabric of time
Loose threads pulled by passers by.
I am caught in the fray
Of emotions from long ago.
Hijaab too tight on ears, unable to hear
The cries of loved ones
So long ago.

 “Thus We have appointed you a middle nation.”
 Surah Baqarah, 2:143

Summer Rain

I dream a dream of raindrops falling onto veiled faces. Abayas black and heavy dragging against the grass. Of the mud splashing at my feet as I twirl, the ecstasy reaching the tips of my fingers, unrepressed. To lie on the ground and look at the sky and feel the water dripping from my brows. Deep breaths filling lungs with crisp air, I sense a tingling of lightheaded humor. My fears untangle beneath my chest and seem to float upwards giddily. I grin madly at the sky one breathtaking evening in July. I am happy.

            But I am inside. Writing poetry on my wrists. Watching as now lone raindrops pool miserably on my windowsill. Knowing deep down, that I have never longed for something more, than to be the Hijaabi dancing in the summer rain.