The Servant Who Loved His Prayers

At dawn a certain rich man
wanted to go to the steambaths.
He woke his servant, Sunqur,

"Ho! Get moving! Get the basin

and the towels and the clay for washing
and let's go to the baths."

Sunqur immediately collected what was needed,
and they set out side by side along the road.

As they passed the mosque, the call to prayer sounded.
Sunqur loved his five-times prayer.

"Please, master,

rest on this bench for a while that I may recite Sura 98,
which begins,

"You who treat your slave with kindness."

The master sat on the bench outside while Sunqur went in.
When prayers were over, and the priest and all the worshippers
had left, still Sunqur remained inside. The master waited
and waited. Finally he yelled into the mosque,

"Sunqur,

why don't you come out?"

"I can't. This Clever One

won't let me. Have a little more patience.

I hear you out there."

Seven times the master waited,

and then shouted. Sunqur's reply was always the same,
"Not yet. He won't let me come out yet."

"But there's no one

in there but you. Everyone else has left.
Who makes you sit still so long?"

"The One who keeps me in here is the One who keeps you out there.
The Same who will not let you in will not let me out."

The Ocean will not allow its fish out of itself.
Nor does it let land animals in
where the subtle and delicate fish move.

The land creatures lumber along on the ground.
No cleverness can change this. There's only one
Opener for the lock of these matters.

Forget your figuring. Forget your self. Listen to your Friend.
When you become totally obedient to That One,
you'll be free.

_Rumi (Mathnawi, III, 3055-3075)

Words worth a thousand pictures: tawaf around the Kaaba doesn't stop during heavy rainfall. On the contrary, it's just as devotional as it would be under a clear and starry sky.
When I first heard about it, I couldn't help but imagine the thousands of beautiful pictures relating the thousands of facets to such a thought.

note: the verse mentioned in italics is #144 of Surah Al-Baqara in the Holy Quran.

"Indeed We see the turning of your face to heaven, so We shall surely turn you to a qiblah which you shall like..."

Yesterday I called a friend who was on his way to the Masjid-e-Haram for Isha prayers. I had selfishly called to be part of what everyone is experiencing subhan Allah. I'd immensely missed the Haram throughout Ramadan, constantly dreaming of myself in various situations linked to prayer there.

Nothing prepared me for what I heard yesterday. The adhaan over the phone. That did it for me. It was the resolution of the emotional eddy I felt myself twisting in for so many days, months now. Subhan Allah. The Haram adhaan that I heard over TV every day was nothing, absolutely nothing compared to hearing it, so seemingly close to me.

Being silent through the adhaan, I hung up as soon as it was over, SMSing my friend thanking him for letting me experience that.I left my phone after that, not knowing he'd call back. He left a message on my voicemail: a recording of the Isha salaat.

"...Turn then your face towards the Sacred Mosque, and wherever you are, turn your face towards it..."

I was left with an indescribable, almost physical ache to be there, there with the qiblah right in front of me for me to see, over and over again. Not knowing when I'll go there next left me strangely haunted.

Previously today I found myself explaining to someone that the word awesome has been hackneyed by chewing-gum twanging adolescents to the extent that it becomes over-rated where applied with most accuracy. Seeing the Haram is awesome. Finally being able to see the qiblah the entire Muslim world turns to for prayer. The constant tawaf around it by all those striving to please their Lord.

The most gratifying feeling throughout salaat in the Haram was being able to look up to see my qiblah before my eyes and not have to imagine it to be there; each time, everytime. The one place looking up does not distract one from ibaadah.

"...And those who have been given the Book most surely know that it is the truth from their Lord; and Allah is not at all heedless of what they do."

D: work load bohot increase ho gaya hai
went home at 12 last night as well

Me: iss liye Sunday ko bhi email nahin kar sakay

D: and the day b4 that was at work all day on sunday

Me: oh
but you were home for lunch
no?

D: yeah, paisay bachaiyaye, apnay liyaye, fati kay liyaye

My kind of WMD.

ºFåtiº says:
acha sunnein

ºFåtiº says:
where did the picture of your cousins and yourself go?

M says:
hm?

ºFåtiº says:
I dreamt of it the night I slept at your place

M says:
the one with N.?

ºFåtiº says:
yeap

M says:
when i came back to khi last summer i put it in a safe place as i had left my room mostly empty left things with I. or locked them up

M says:
its still in a safe place

M says:
never put it out again

ºFåtiº says:
oh ok

ºFåtiº says:
how come?

M says:
dont know

ºFåtiº says:
I dreamt of it

M says:
when i came back after the summers I wasnt much myself and the whole play thing was happening then I fell sick

M says:
and then I just didnt want to take it out in my flat as it didnt feel like my flat

M says:
the nice colours and all were added this year

M says:
when i came back after the winter

M says:
somehow it didnt gell

M says:
gel

ºFåtiº says:
I spend a little time with you and I think I spend too much

M says:
why?

ºFåtiº says:
(= the dreams that reflect the subconscious overwhelm me

M says:
we all love deeply

M says:
even if its without the family

M says:
u i maryam

M says:
we might love a few only

M says:
but it runs deep

M says:
when i hear norah jones or sarah mchlachan i think of you and your life in KAS

M says:
somehow

M says:
and matchbox 20 reminds me acutely of how N. saw his house on winter mornings

ºFåtiº says:
(=

M says:
so

M says:
yes we all spend a little time and it might seem a lot

M says:
the amount of time I think has ceased to matter amongst us

M says:
its just the poignancy of the moment that grabs the subconscious really hard

M says:
its observations in your room too

M says:
i love you alwas

ºFåtiº says:
I know that.

ºFåtiº says:
I dreamt I asked you where the picture was.

ºFåtiº says:
I'll tell you the answer later.

ºFåtiº says:
Bon appetit.

ºFåtiº says:
Love you back.

M says:
tell me the answer

M says:
i want to know

ºFåtiº says:
You took me to your computer

ºFåtiº says:
and showed me the picture

M says:
on the pc?

ºFåtiº says:
which was safely tucked behind the screen

ºFåtiº says:
in a frame

ºFåtiº says:
the things I noticed in the dream were

ºFåtiº says:
the feeling that you had kept it in a *safe* place

ºFåtiº says:
and

ºFåtiº says:
the picture was smaller in size

ºFåtiº says:
those two things stood out even while I dreamt away

ºFåtiº says:
which is why I asked you

M says:
you know ur room seems like that to me now

ºFåtiº says:
how so?

M says:
a couple of years ago your room was more cluttered but with things that seemed to hold memories

M says:
and now its not so cluttered

M says:
and the memories and things related to love seem

M says:
more inside you and not on mantlepieces somehow

ºFåtiº says:
I know

ºFåtiº says:
I noticed that as well

M says:
previously it was all out, disorganised but out in the open in the room

M says:
i guess such things happen

ºFåtiº says:
now I take out things to show you

M says:
we keep our love in differnt places over the years

ºFåtiº says:
and yet it's always in a safe place.

M says:
yes it is

M says:
these days when I think of N. he seems to be smiling and I seem to be more upset than him

ºFåtiº says:
this will sound like something I would say to you while having the *just married* breakfasts we've had

M says:
in my thoughts of daydreams

ºFåtiº says:
but I'll say it still

ºFåtiº says:
oh ho

ºFåtiº says:
why do you think that?

M says:
go ahead

M says:
i dont knwo

M says:
just sharing it with u

M says:
i guess im with I. and at times it gets overwhelming that im with someone else

M says:
and at times i wonder if I. is happy with me as a natural stream

ºFåtiº says:
don't think or wonder that

M says:
what did u want to say to me

ºFåtiº says:
I get stuck when I do the same with Ryz

ºFåtiº says:
and then I think of something Ryz says, which is

M says:
?

ºFåtiº says:
don't think about things that you can't control

M says:
true

M says:
i reach that conclusion too at times

ºFåtiº says:
I don't know if he implies this particular state of mind, but I apply it nevertheless

M says:
that i dont know how or what is happening in someones head and whatever it is

ºFåtiº says:
I wanted to say that I'm glad we're growing older together

ºFåtiº says:
not only you and myself

ºFåtiº says:
all of us

M says:
its out of my explicit realm

M says:
true

ºFåtiº says:
I thought the same the night Zairah got engaged

ºFåtiº says:
and I was telling Maina the same thing

M says:
i miss you all when im involved in activities here that seem removed from me yet I am involved if even at the boundaries

M says:
i think of the comfort we all have grown into

M says:
and its not a 'gluttonous' form we're stuck in

M says:
its dynamic

M says:
love you

ºFåtiº says:
you're right, it's a "thick" form instead.

ºFåtiº says:
love you back

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.