Blessed Guest

Picture Courtesy my son, Muhammad Salahuddin. 

Butterflies in my stomach,

A twinkle to my eye

A special guest is coming

It’s time to rejoice

He bears the Quran

Filling our hearts with light

Days devoid of food

And peaceful prayers at night 

Welcome, Oh blessed guest 

With joy we invite thee

Oh bearer of blessed nights

In which was sent the decree

With a prayer in our hearts

That we see you after Shaban

We welcome you again

Ahlan wa sahlan, ya Ramadan! 

A Mother's Ramadan

I got my backpack ready, making sure I’ve packed something for the kids to eat, oh and not to forget their little plastic glass to drink water! With a few minutes to go, I find out one of them has pooped in their diaper, hence, ensues the mad rush of a diaper change before we pack ourselves in the car. No, we are not going on a journey. We are going to the Masjid for Taraweeh prayers in Ramadan!

Mid-prayer, I run after my 1 year old who is for the 100th time putting something fishy in her mouth. I hold her in my arms while I pray and she constantly tries to wriggle out of my grasp. It’s like wrestling with a shark! Meanwhile my 3 year old tries to take off my glasses and pulls his sister’s legs, wanting to be in my arms as well. Tears stream down my face as I try to concentrate on the Words of Allah. Praying for help, for ease, while the words 

إياك  نعبد و إياك نستعين 

ring in my ears. After all, who else can help me but Him? 

I get everything ready for Suhoor and am about to take it to my husband when I notice we only have 15 minutes to go till the Adhaan. My one year old suddenly decides to join in as she wakes up wailing at the top of her voice waking her brother up in the process. As I hold the little one in my arms, her brother wants water from his father. We somehow manage to east enough till the Adhaan sounds. 

Before Ramadan started, I was so excited as it was the first Ramadan that finally I would be able to fast. I salivated over all the #RamadanBasket posts on Instagram and mentally made a list of all the things I wanted to do this month. Reality, however, had different plans. So different that a blog post written mid-Ramadan is finally being completed once it is almost Eid. 

What kept me going through this month, you ask? Tawakkul (Trust) in Allah and His plans. The consolation that came through His words during Taraweeh in those blessed moments when I could concentrate enough. And a thought struck me which made me spend the rest of my Ramadan with a lot more gratitude. 

When you feel overwhelmed by the responsibilities that prevent you from giving your full due to your ibadah, just think of the time when you prayed frantically for the very things that seem like a burden to you now. I thought of my prayers of four years ago, so much more khushoo and so much more concentration yet what did I pray for? A pious spouse and righteous children. Four years later Allah gave me the blessed opportunity to not only witness Ramadan again but to be able to pray in the Masjid despite the challenges. He gave me a righteous spouse and two beautiful children who I now need to focus on raising as His righteous slaves. 

THIS IS MY IBADAH. And may He accept it with the fasting and the prayers and the little Quran I managed to read with a heavy heart. On this 29th night I pray for ease for all the mothers, and for all those who are praying to become mothers. 

May you all have a blessed few hours that are left of Ramadan, and a wonderful Eid! 

Ramadan with a Toddler in the 21st Century

Bismillah.

This disjointed, random, out-of-the-blue post is typical of my life these days. A phase of life where there are days when I barely have time to go to the bathroom, and days when I find myself listlessly wondering what I should do with my time when my toddler sleeps early.

Being a mother in the social media era has its own challenges. The more the blogs, groups and forums on motherhood, the greater the chaos and the lesser organised are our lives, juggling between screens, wailing children and household chores. And between it all the struggle to make that oh-so-important status update on Facebook/Twitter/Instagram just to make sure the world knows how chaotic organised our lives are.

As if the struggles of motherhood on their own were not enough, add to it the constant battles against society to practice Islam yourself and inculcate its values in your children. Yet, amidst the chaos, that is the very factor that adds an element of much-needed peace in our lives, Alhamdulillah. After all,

Those who have believed and whose hearts are assured by the remembrance of Allah . Unquestionably, by the remembrance of Allah hearts are assured. (13:28, Quran)

That is why, no matter how skeptical I was regarding how I would manage attending Daura-e-Quran and Taraweeh and manage Sehri and Iftar, it's as if Allah's special help made things possible and things just seemed to happen of their own accord, Alhamdulillah. My eyes filled with tears during Taraweeh as I recalled how my 14 month old cried on the first day but gradually adjusted to the new environment and made it easier for me to pray Salah in the masjid. Even though I had hard days when my back would hurt due to running after him and picking him up again and again during Salah, but my heart was still full of gratitude for just the opportunity of doing more than I ever thought was possible.

Therefore, I'm writing this for all the mothers struggling and feeling guilty that you cannot do enough worship during Ramadan. Do not lose heart! Yes, you are already doing the most important job that you were created for - raising righteous children. Even so, keep trying and you never know how Allah (SWT) makes a way for you to do more acts of worship. The quality of worship may not be the best, but we can be grateful for even the opportunity to do anything that we can, despite all the challenges that we face, Insha Allah!

Edit: Came across this blog post in my drafts from Ramadan 2 years ago, when I was about to post a new one on the same subject. SubhanAllah, that's motherhood for you right there! Thought I'd post this one as well. 

The Healer of Hearts

Bismillah.

For a long time now, I have searched for inspiration to write. What better inspiration than the Book of Allah (SWT) and the most blessed of months, Ramadan!

Every single one of us have reached a point in our lives when our heart suffered the deepest blow. The death of a loved one, a broken relationship, a scandal that ruined one's life, failure of the acutest kind, and the list goes on. You reach a point where you feel like no one can understand your pain and it feels like it will never go away. A void in your heart that nothing can fill.

We go left, right and center, searching for shrinks, self-help books, or we wallow in despair and drown in drinks and drugs. Yet, nothing seems to fill that gaping void in your heart.

Why is that so?

Because we are searching in all the wrong places! Our Creator, the One who knows our every single thought before we even express it, says in His Book, the Qur'an:

"O mankind, there has come to you instruction from your Lord and healing for what is in the breasts and guidance and mercy for the believers." (Qur'an, 10:57)

This Book that we take off from our shelves when someone is sick, dying or to hold it above the bride's head during her Rukhsati - don't leave it there to gather dust while you knock your head against people and other things to heal your heart. When you are breaking down and when the whole world seems to be falling apart, pick it up and read.

By reading I don't mean reading out the Arabic without having a clue what the words say. I mean, try to understand what your Lord is saying to you. There is a reason why the Quran was revealed as a Spoken Word (Kalaam) and not in written form. It is the only Book where you feel like you are directly being addressed in speech. It is the only Book which, like a mirror, makes you feel like every word is about you.

Sink in the power of His Words and let them heal you. Because, Wallahi, there is nothing else in this world that can do the same. Take it from me, I have tried!

If you still feel like you don't have a friend in the world who can protect you from its ugliness, read on in the same Surah, Allah (SWT) assures you:

Unquestionably, [for] the allies of Allah there will be no fear concerning them, nor will they grieve. (Qur'an 10:62)

This article was also published on the Youth Club Blog.

Ramblings of a Closet Feminist

Bismillah.

When your mind is going in a million directions at once, the best way to pull them together would be to write a blog post. Somehow, when I began with Allah's name, it gave this post a purpose. This post is no longer as futile as it appeared before I started writing.

All of us reach a certain point in our lives when directly, or indirectly, pressure is exerted on you to "settle down". While I have nothing against the institute of marriage, for indeed, it is a Sunnah and one that helps in increasing one's Imaan and character building, I do however have some scores to settle with our twisted society regarding what it has become. Some may think that I'm confused between being a closet feminist and a "fundo" (pet word for fundamentalists or extremists, if you please). However, when you start your post wondering what people would think, you know something is wrong, somewhere. This goes on to show exactly what our society has reduced women to being.

When your purpose in life is reduced to just one thing - marriage - that's all your life starts revolving around. It doesn't matter how many books you have read, or how much you learn from life in general, at some point the main concern of our lives as Pakistani women seems to be acceptance. How many times have you come across statements like, "if you become too career-oriented, no one will marry you", "Dress modestly, men don't like women who are too bold in their dressing"and "Don't be such a dowd, educated men prefer smartly dressed women."

As I write this, the marquee next door vibrates with Bollywood beats accompanied by sounds of cheers - obvious signs of a wedding. It makes one wonder whether it is really worthwhile to spend one's life savings on a circus show without giving deeper thought to the actual union between the two people? Is the marriage just an outcome of society's expectations from a conventionally brought up woman who is so heady with the excitement of the wedding that she prefers not to think about what follows, or is it the   union between two souls that share the same purpose in life and see marriage as a source of support as opposed to the only source of happiness? Don't take me wrong, I've seen some examples of the latter as well, but they are as rare as unconventionally brought up women.

While we're on the subject of our purpose in life, how is an intelligent woman, who is capable of doing so much greater good not only for this world, but for her Hereafter as well, supposed to achieve just that if all she is spending her energies doing is fitting into a mould that she does not belong to? While she is so busy conforming to society's expected version of an ideal candidate for marriage, how will she grow herself in knowledge and benefit others from it?

As I hear heart-breaking tales of women being rejected on issues as trivial as the length of their nose, it makes one realise how much thought needs to be put into bringing back the essence of this beautiful institution. The fact that this thought was nagging me so much that I was compelled to write a blog post on it instead of worrying my head with more pressing concerns like who Pakistan's next Prime Minister would be, reflects directly on where our society is lacking.

Across the Lai

Inspired by Charles Dickens' "The Streets - Morning" from Sketches by Boz.

The surroundings resonate with the beautiful rendition of the Islamic call to prayer for the first prayer of the day. The single voice calling "Allahu Akbar" (Allah is Great) is soon joined by a multitude of other voices, some old and some young, until the words are barely discernible. In the semi-darkness of pre-dawn, the Nala Lai looks like a smaller version of River Thames (as my brother likes to put it), reflecting tiny lights from the surrounding houses which seem to be poised precariously close to the edge despite several warnings after floods in the past to move them back. As the sky begins to lighten very gradually in the cold December morning, dark shapes, which a wild imagination turns into beings from another land, start presenting their true forms as mundane unimaginative products of modern technology.

As I start taking photos of the sunrise, the bright orange on the horizon that stays its beautiful self in every part of the world, I'm struck, as always, by the contrast in my surroundings. As I look down from the front side of my house, other than the guard heating himself infront of the flames of his personal little bonfire and an occasional wandering stray cat or dog, the well-kept neighbourhood of retired army officers is engulfed in slumber and serenity. This side of my house hardly ever held my attention for long. The backside of my house, however, where the Nala Lai stretches out in all its filthy granduer (the piles of garbage accumulated along its banks are now visible in the morning light), the world across it has always interested me.

The stark contrast that both sides of the Lai present is fascinating if not sobering. The garbage that decorates the bank of the "other" side gradually transforms into a confusion of houses of various sizes, which seem to be interconnected - no sign of any open space let alone a garden. Some housing poor families moved here from nearby cities earning their livelihoods by working at the well-to-do houses across the Nala. It is, however, also the perfect hideout for our friendly neighbourhood thieves. Won't we know it, having been victims to one such gang!

As I take pictures of the cement bridge that stretches over one end of the Lai, an occasional car or two drives across. The bridge always reminds me of the bomb blast which was attempted to kill our former President Musharraf, who would frequent the famous bridge while going back and forth from the Army House in the heart of Rawalpindi. As I move my camera lens back to the houses across, I see a tiny speck with a large sack rummaging in the junk - a scavenger in search of recyclable material, most likely. (Unfortunately, the photo was too blurred to be shared.) I now hear cars starting up, as people start leaving for schools, colleges and workplaces.

As I pack up my camera and head downstairs upon completing my mission of capturing pictures of the sunrise, I continue to think about the two contrasting worlds on both sides of the Nala - sadly symbolic of the large economic divide between the rich and the poor in my country.

Re-learning Islam

... Bismillah ir-Rahman ir-Raheem (In the name of Allah, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful). When he read the words ar-Rehman ar-Raheem, he was alarmed and threw the page down, then he regained control of himself, picked it up again, and saw the words:

"Ta-Ha. We have not sent down the Qur'an unto you (O' Muhammad) to cause you distress, but only as a Reminder to those who fear (Allah). A Revelation from Him (Allah) who has created the earth and high heavens." (Qur'an 20: 1-4)

Umar Ibn Al-Khattab: His Life and Times by Dr. Ali Muhammad as-Sallabi

As born Muslims we tend to take our faith for granted. Just because we had the privilege of being born to Muslim families, we think we automatically received a ticket to Heaven, hence, no more effort is required from our side. Therefore, gradually, religion becomes confined to the mosque and the Holy Qur'an becomes a symbol of reverence only to be kept on the top shelf. We grow out of the curiosity regarding life that we had as children. We become more concerned about which way the hijab needs to be worn or how long the beard needs to be instead of looking at the state of our hearts and determining whether we have conviction in our belief and love for Allah (The Exalted) and His Messenger (Peace and Blessings of Allah be upon him). (Not saying that the matters mentioned formerly are to be ignored, just drawing a comparison as regards to priorities.) Isn't that why, when talking to non-Muslims regarding Islam, we become defensive instead of making an influence? Because we inherited Islam instead of choosing it as a way of life, we often overlook the all-important step of understanding the basic concept of Tauheed (Oneness of Allah) - of truly connecting with the Creator with our hearts.

I only recently realised how much this conviction was lacking in my own heart. I had seen many videos and read several articles of Muslim converts who are prominent speakers on Islam today and they always had an impact on me. Yet, it is true when people say, nothing can compare to the real thing! I've lately been going through an extensive process of soul-searching, having resigned from my job and being unemployed for a good five or so months gave me ample time to reflect on what I'm doing with my life. It was as if Allah answered my silent prayers when I heard that Brothers Hamza Andreas Tzortzis and Adnan Rashid were visiting Pakistan as part of the Winds of Change tour and deep down I knew I HAD to go!

I was prepared to be deeply inspired but the profound effect that Hamza Tzortzis' and Adnan Rashid's talks had on me on the first day of the SIST 2012, held in Islamabad, still took me by surprise. It was as if, one by one, all the questions that had been tormenting me of late were being answered. How can I contribute to bring about a change in Pakistan? Why is Pakistan perpetually plagued by one trial after another? There has to be more to my life than what I'm currently doing. Attending the Da'wah Workshop, conducted by Br. Hamza Tzortzis a day after the event, seemed to further strengthen the process of change and realisation that had already begun. Giving a little background, Hamza Andreas Tzortzis is a Greek Muslim convert "who looks Pakistani" and is a senior researcher and lecturer for iERA, UK. He has engaged in several debates with prominent academics and intellectuals.

During the Da'wah Workshop, I realised why I always reached a point of frustration when attempting to answer questions regarding Islam that were constantly bombarded my way, mainly because I wear hijab. I realised that I don't need to be defensive about my faith, I only need to make people understand the beauty of the heart connecting with its Creator and recognising Him. It's as simple as that! Everything else follows naturally, belief in the Last Messenger of Allah, Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) and all that was revealed to him, obedience to Allah, belief in the Hereafter, etc. All it takes is firm conviction in our hearts - belief, love, trust and also fear of the Creator. If we lack that, then there is no way that we can convince anyone else!

As I was mentally assessing and soaking in all that I came across and learnt during the Winds of Change tour, I started reading a fantastic book on the life of Umar ibn Al-Khattab (May Allah be pleased with him) by Dr. Ali Muhammad as-Sallabi, given to me by my grandfather some time back. Had I read it at some other time, it might not have affected me as it does now. Especially the passages regarding Umar’s conversion to Islam, the verses that brought about the change in him and the basic concepts of Islam that Umar learnt with the help of Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) had a profound effect on me. I find the strength of Umar’s belief, his open display of faith at a time when it was dangerous to do so, his eagerness to learn at the hands of the Prophet (PBUH) and his insights on many verses of the Qur’an immensely inspiring!

These are the people who know what it feels like to be on the other side. To question, reflect, and then finally accept, instead of having Islam served to them in a plate. It is about time we, the born Muslims, re-learn Islam from them and renew our faith in order to effectively give the message to others as well. We cannot convince others unless we convince ourselves first. I will end my thoughts with Brother Hamza Tzortzis’ words that caused a stir in the audience at the SIST 2012;

“Don’t be like the feather blown about by the wind. We are the wind – the Winds of Change!”