A couple of days ago, Ryz randomly said that I should write with my right hand. I thought he was referring to lunch the same day where I used my right hand to cut and my left to eat. I told him that although I write with my left hand, I am very particular about eating with my right, as well as doing all other chores with my right hand being the dominant one. Cutting with my left hand and eating with my right was something I plan on learning and insha Allah I will get the hang of it as well.

He insisted I start writing with my right hand as well. I didn't see any reason why not and I said I'll do it.

Some minutes after that conversation I was checking my email and read one sent by Ryz that was titled "Mysteries of Live with Proof" and I found this.
I asked him whether that was the reason behind his concern... needless to say what his reply was.

Meher discovered her feet. She inspected them with quite a "Oh hello. Where have you come from? What do you do?" demeanor.

Last night while in my arms, Meher felt her face itch. Know the feeling when one part of the face is itching and when it's touched the itchiness slowly spreads all over? Well, she was experiencing that at the tender age of four and a half months.

She's still in the process discovering her hands and the fact that she actually has control over their movements. So instead of using her hands to remove the itch, she simply started rubbing her face against mine.

Rub rub rub like a kitten.

I couldn't laugh for fear of hurting her with the smallest movement. I remained extremely still the entire time.

if theres nething i could do to melt the rain
(correction made)
snow

Had to smile despite myself. Allahu Akbar.

Zairah and I were talking about ourselves and all that touched us, both profoundly or tragically.

I've known her for so long and yet I realized only that afternoon exactly how much older we had grown over the years.

The simplest observation spurned these feelings: the fact that we talk now, and yet we both know that our conversation needn't end in a resolution of any sort.
Neither of us tells the other that what we want will happen insha Allah.

Somewhere along the line we let go of the illusion that the only way things can or should be is our way.
I guess that's what becoming olders means, in a way. The realization that "haqq" does not mean how things should be, but how things are.

Yes, we're not comfortable with many things around us, but alhamdo lillah we're not droning about how they should be, rather we're thinking of all that we can do considering our specific situations.

Najm Saab (may Allah Bless him for all that he teaches others by merely speaking, Ameen) pointed out that we will be tried and judged not by all that we strived to do in accordance with all the great Momins that we read about, rather we will be tried by the amount of good or evil that we brought upon with all that Allah Blessed us with.

I didn't feel resolved on leaving Zairah's house that afternoon, since our situations had not changed or improved merely by us talking about it. But I felt blessed to have her to talk to and clear my mind with, think out loud, and that mattered so much.

I felt content because of all that stood strong within me, despite of little tremors that take place almost everyday.

Yes, Allah Subhana Wa Ta'ala is the giver of all blessings, such as having friends with whom one can set apart truth from fantasy and still not feel slighted.

It was such a treasure to have finally gone to the Darussalam Bookshop. I was browing through various book titles and I kept thinking of the people who would insha Allah benefit and learn from some of the books.

I came across an Urdu book that described death and the prescribed manner to go about the subsequent funeral and mourning. Although it was in a dialect that I could have easily understood I felt that by giving it to Nanhi Baji would mean for both of us to understand, since her way of relating to deen is alhamdo lillah easily comprehendable.

Then I thought that to give a book on death to anyone is usually considered a bad omen and the giver is perceived to be either rude or impertinent, when in actuality dead is not brought on by a bad omen nor a seemingly rude intent. Death is the biggest and most constant truth that everyone must inevitably face, and yet we tend to shut our eyes to it all the while that we can.

In essence, we are neglecting Rasool Allah SAWS' words to regard this life as a mere journey.

The entire time I was skimming through that book I kept in mind that Nanhi Baji would appreciate such a gift and actually discuss its content with me. Yet I didn't buy the book. Just not yet.

When I came home to tell her about it, she expressed her keenness to read the book as well. I think of all the times that I tell Ami where some things are kept, and whether I owe money to anyone and she passes it off as it upsets her.

If only we realized that by keeping death in mind for ourselves and our loved ones, we will truly prepare ourselves and actually help the ones we love so much, before and after death.

Alhamdo lillah for people such as Nanhi Baji whom I can discuss my death with the realness that it is shrouded in.

Some days ago I was talking to Zairah and telling her of Ryz's family structure. The conversation included his parents, siblings and Ryz's relationship with them.

Yesterday I met her at Najm Saab's dars and I had brought along the books I bought her from Darussalam.

A part of me felt that Zairah would have a little something for me as well. Such is the content bliss I feel around her.

When I met her, she handed me a gajra for my wrist and I smiled and handed her the bag that contained the books. She then asked whether Ryz had come to the dars as well to which I replied that he hadn't.

She then handed me another gajra, this one being for his sister, Huma.

Why? Because of the mere fact that I was telling her about Huma, Ryz's sister.

I told Ryz that evening, and he was touched to hear it.

I then told him that the reason why Zairah is so fond of him is because she loves me so much. A simple truth that I am reminded of at different points of our friendship.

Alhamdo lillah.

she reminded me of you, like sunshine or...something akin to a natural high

I was having one of those days where I felt myself floating through a foreign movie. Without the subtitles. I wasn't understanding much as to what people were saying around me and would drift away from a conversation long before it had even reached a resolution of sorts.

Just a day ago, I was thinking of heading out to the beach again and sit like I would like to. In complete silence. I feel that I can only take people that I can comfortably be quiet with to the beach, for a walk anywhere or to a park. So I can bask in the disembarassed silence that we share.

I had been doing that a lot with Lima lately. Going out for a drive, a walk or just sitting together and staring into space. Just so that she would feel comforted and not alone. Since October our quiet times spent together had been for her and alhamdo lillah for the fact that Allah gave me the chance to be the sister when she needed one the most.

Yesterday I wanted Zairah to be back in town so I could sit on a bench somewhere. For me. And I wanted it so much. Like the time we were in Deja Vu and wanted to get up from a dinner with other friends, because her heart wasn't in it and I couldn't bear to see her put up a brave front just because my friends were joining us as well.

Lately, I've been wanting to get up from crowded places because I cannot and do not agree with what is being said or done in front of me, so much that it gnaws at me by inches until there is not much left but a hollow within, for all those things that we do merely because we find it easier than having to question our actions and clashing beliefs.

Zairah doesn't come online that often. She must have come online all of three times in the past six months. And yet Allah Subhana Wa Ta'ala Makes it so that she comes online when I feel that I could not have possibly missed her more.

I was so pleased to see her online that all my previous discontent melted away to the warmth of having her around. Allah afflicts us with sorrow and blesses us with happiness. But just like how medicine would not take effect unless Allah Subhana Wa Ta'ala would make the medicine a zarriya (channel), the exact same way He Blesses us with friends whose presence makes us realize just how Merciful He is to us. There is None Unto Like Him. Allahu Akbar.

I had read in a rivaayat that I sadly cannot refer directly as I cannot remember but Rasool Allah SAWS said that a true Momin is one who looks like a man of Allah and when you look at him, you get reminded of Allah.

Although I couldn't speak to Zairah as much as I would have liked to, the mere fact that she came online when I couldn't have missed her more made all the difference. She is the zarriya through which I felt blessed, and I cannot thank Allah enough for keeping me alive so I can atone my past ungratefulness and praise Him in both happiness and sorrow.