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 .

My Brother

Everything is frown worthy with him
The glare of the sun on the tv screen
Your inane attempt to understand  cricket teams.
A seemingly normal question , will be branded
Small talk and abandoned
Not lest before he frowns.
It is a superb frown at that
It channels the annoyance
Of angry Uncles everywhere
And presents itself boldly.
The bitter spirit of an old man
On the head of a twenty something.
It is in my own admission
Incredibly amusing.

That wedding last week
Spurred him on it seems.
Though I felt for him
The constant music and free mixing
Was not a nice scene.
Yet the entrance of the bride and groom
Was unbelievably entertaining.
He did not look up at first
But when he did it seems
The bride was far too desi
So he frowned a frown , so profound
That I chuckled and he saw me.
He smiled.

I have come to realize
That this world is frown worthy.
That the sin seeps through every corner
Manifesting itself in disapproval stamped
Across his forehead.

On the authority of Abu Saeed al-Khudri (may Allah be pleased with him) who said:I heard the Messenger of Allah( peace be upon him) say,
“Whoever of you sees an evil must then change it with his hand. If he is not able to do so, then [he must change it ] with his tongue. And if he is not able to do so, then [he must change it] with his heart. And that is the slightest [effect of] faith.”
Muslim

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