Meher sounds just like Nibbles, the gray mouse from "Tom and Jerry". She speaks her own language and her pucker makes it sound like French. She also leans forward to smooch at any baby picture. So it sounds something like, "Aaaaah! Squibble dibble mwah mwah!

I found myself overwhelmed by the feeling of thankfulness and the simultaneous fear of depravity while praying my Maghrib prayers in Faisal Masjid.

My take on the adhaan is not supported by any Verse or Ahadith. Yet the feeling is so strong.

When I went for Umrah last April, I experienced something entirely new to me: having to hear the adhaan in a country other than mine. I have travelled to most of Europe, even Turkey, the United States and Canada. I had not been to a place where I had heard the call to prayer.

I was moved to tears not only because I was in the courtyard of the first mosque built for Allah, but also because I realized what I had missed all my life. I take the adhaan very personally, as I try to take all other blessings Allah has Given me. The adhaan is for me. It is calling me to prayer. I can hear it because Allah Deems me worthy of His worship. Similarly I feel that to not be able to hear it, to keep searching for it is almost symbolic of seeking Allah's Pleasure and not being able to find it.

I do not remember the source of the hadith but I will update my post soon enough to cite it. I had once read that Rasool Allah SAWS said that the Muslim Ummah has been blessed with three things that no other Ummah in the past was given: earth has been made pure for us (tayammum), we have right over maal-e-ghaneemat (spoils of war) and the entire world is a masjid (place of prayer) for us.

Hearing the adhaan in Haram Pak, Masjid-e-Nabi SAWS, and then in Faisal Masjid was the final resolution of the depravity I would feel in other countries without the adhaan, the times I could hear the adhaan in my head and wake up in the morning, and also during the day when I found myself setting my watch to the sounds inside my head. Allah's Call to prayer is irreplaceable and it's importance can only be imagined when one has to do without it.

The adhaan is for me, and alhamdo lillah my yearning to hear it is also for me.

Lima wrote this in an SMS once,
"It's amazing how the anticipation of some memory is filled with fear of confrontation and in reality confronting it takes you to new levels of self discovery."

She wrote this a day before my first exam in January. The next day I saw this feeling come to life within me when I stopped at Ryz's mum's grave on the way back from my exam.

I first met Ryz there because I wanted to start from a point nearest to him and take it from there. That first meeting was the only culmination of his thoughts on death, departure and loss - aspects we barely skimmed over afterwards, usually unintentionally.

My consequent trips to his mum's grave were only to help keep things in perspective for me. Graveyards are the stark reminder of the mortality of this world and everything that the world's turnings shroud in its apparent importance. Alhamdo lillah I find it immensely pacifying to go there to realize the mutability of the most constant of maelstroms.

After that first time I ended up going alone, usually asking him before I went whether he wanted to go as well and always going for myself than any other reason or person.

Just that this time when I went in January I sillily anticipated memories of the first time there and my association with Ryzvan. Alhamdo lillah I found myself to feel liberated by having gone with no connection to anyone. I stopped at the gate to read the masnoon dua and send salaam, walked to his mum's grave, had a good look at the graveyard and stepped out.

I ended up going there after each exam with the welcome resolution of having gone not because Ryz's mum's grave lay there, but because I would soon be part of dust as well. Nothing is as absolute as the inevitability of death and our return to Him. The mere realization of that reality shatters the seemingly monstrous facade taken on by untamed apprehensions of the human mind.

To think that on that particular day in January I headed for the graveyard absolutely prepared to be selfishly overcome by memories of Ryzvan when Allah Subhana Wa Ta'ala Put me in my place, once again.

Zairah and Maryam came over for breakfast on Monday since it was a public holiday. They reached my house around ten-thirty in the morning so it was not an early breakfast. Just that Zairah and I had not slept very well the previous night and we were feeling extremely sluggish.

Alhamdo lillah the house contained only girls since Abu was out of town and Ami was waiting for us to make her breakfast as well. So we had a leisurely breakfast to ourselves, Ami included.
After breakfast the three of us felt so sleepy that instead of doing anything else afterwards, we slept. Just like that. Until two in the afternoon.

Ami kept wondering why the house was so quiet despite having three friends being in the same room. The reason was that we did not feel it necessary to talk just because we met up, instead we did what would have made us happier at the moment.

When I told Halima about this, she laughed and related how a night spent at a friend's house in Lahore resulted in her feeling out-of-place for most of the time. So I guess more than knowing a person enough to laugh or cry with them, it ia necessary to be able to sleep around them without any explanation. Absolute peace, alhamdo lillah.

I was gifted chocolates a few days ago. I need not even think of who gave it and in what context. The gesture alone made me feel like a little girl, alhamdo lillah.

That made me think of all the simple gifts I've received that meant all the world to me.

Before that Afshan sent me the most adorably snug pajamas from Umreeka. Imagine that, she sent me pajamas. And I adore them to bits.

Halima got me a marvelous bunch of balloons on the day of my admissions test for Indus.

Maryam brought a beautiful box for me from Iran.

Nazia got me a bottle of Mr. Bubbles bubble solution.

I keep getting beautiful bangles for Eid, almost as if to receive them were not only my right, but common tradition.

Aamir Bhai gave me my first (and only) jade pendant and matching earrings, shaped like apples.
He also gave me my first (of many) snow-globes.

Arooj made me a card when I burnt my fingers containing the wish that my "figer wil be beter tomoro."

I've always been a firm believer of the fact that Allah Subhana wa Ta'ala being As-Samad (the Absolute) can alone plan each and every event albeit how small or insignificant such that not only the ones involved are influenced by it, but each one who hears about it in turn are affected by it in some way or the other. It all is a matter of looking out for His signs.

About an hour ago I heard of someone passing away as a result of taking his own life. The third of a similar situation in the course of a year. It made me try to imagine the extent of disparity one must feel in order to take such a step.

Astaghfarullah. The state of having underestimated Allah Subhana wa Ta'ala's justice for that brief moment.

"And unto Allah leads straight the Way, but there are ways that turn aside: if Allah had willed, He could have guided all of you."

The Holy Quran, Surah An-Nahl (The Bee) 16:9

Hearing of such a death at this point in time makes me reflect on the times that I felt or impatient while relying on Allah to Set right my affairs. Or the times I prayed to him but half-heartedly. Astaghfarullah.

Some months ago Maryam told me about a relative who was released after being held by the intelligence for interrogation for almost four years. The only times his family heard from him were on Eid days, and nine months before his eventual return his family did not even get that one phone call.
Imagine what his mother would have felt at each ring of the telephone. She did not even know whether he was alive or not. Nine months.

I heard of that incident during a time I felt myself to be brutally caught in a limbo where I waited for a resolution that I knew was inevitable, but I did not have the vaguest sense of timeline to stamp it with.
Imagining myself in his mother's shoes shook me awake to realize what limbo must truly mean, while I was busy being caught in the romantic idea behind having to wait too long when it was my same Allah who was Trying me, and was well aware of my limitations.

Tonight this death fortified my faith in Allah and my service towards him, slaving so that He keeps me guided on the straight path, Ameen.

Just like I haven't slept on an argument without having resolved it ever since Adnan passed away. Allahu Akbar, for He has Helped me maintain that resolution despite varying time zones.

I can't help but think that alhamdo lillah if I remain reminded of His signs at times like these, I must be doing something right.

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.