When it feels like Home

Bismihi Ta’ála

Hamzah

Sometimes in life, when the focus has shifted and life’s giving you a bit of uphill, you’re given the grave choice between losing someone, and losing yourself…

And some people may call it selfish, but if you’re the kind of person that I am, you’ll understand what it feels like to wonder what will happen to your loved ones when you’re no longer around. To understand that if you lose yourself, nothing good can ever come out of it.

And if you are anything like me, and you lose yourself to someone, almost as if there’s no going back, your day and night becomes consumed with all sorts of thoughts and possibilities about what can and may happen.

It might sound crazy (and it is), but people like me, are one level above the realists. We are the worriers; the ones who think of every possible outcome for every possible scenario, even before it happens.

And I didn’t know it yet, that, that was exactly how it all started, but here I was, all soaked up and letting myself fall more and more into the sweet surrender of unconditional love, when I had slammed right into the most amazing lesson, that put it all in a nutshell for me.

And it was just as well that I’d heard it the day before, but in a beautiful narration reported by Abdullah ibn Abbas (RA), who was just a boy at the time, Nabi Muhammad (Sallalahu Alaihi was Sallam) advised his young companion to be mindful of Allah.

In the original Arabic of this, he uses the phrase “ihfadh-Allah, yahfadhak,” which literally translates as: “take care of Allah, and Allah will take care of you.”

And I’m pretty ashamed to admit it, but it had only become a recent habit of mine to recite the chapter of the cave with its innumerable benefits, also known as Surah Kahf, every Friday without fail.

And it was just as well, because within the extensive story of Musaa (AS) and Al-Khidr (AS), who was said to have somehow but unintentioanlly drunk from the Fountain of Life, it’s result being eternal life…. Allah teaches us something amazing about those we strive for, give ourselves for, and are consumed by the most…

Umar ibn AbdulAziz once said, “There is not a single righteous believer who dies except that Allah (swt) will protect his children and his children’s children.”

And to come back to that amazing moral… within the story of Musa and Al- Khidr (AS) , as these two men were journeying together, they came to a town where the people were, to say the least, extremely miserly and refused to give them even a morsel to consume.

It was at that place, as they were leaving the city, when Al-Khidr(AS) saw a wall that was crumbling, and promptly repaired it.

Now, imagine, like you and I, after the people’s refusal to assist them in their hour of need, Musaa (AS) was appalled by this seemingly virtuous deed, saying that he should have asked for some payment at least. Al Khidr (AS) then explained the wisdom:

“And as for the wall, it belonged to two orphan boys in the town; and there was under it a treasure belonging to them; and their father was a righteous man, and your Lord intended that they should attain their age of full strength and take out their treasure as a mercy from your Lord. And I did it not of my own accord. That is the interpretation of those (things) over which you could not have patience” (18:82).

And truly, we can never understand the wisdom of Divine knowledge, the extraordinary insight that those pious saints are given and how they are able to execute their tasks with such perfection…

The sublime fact here was that Allah (SWT) sent Al-Khidr to protect the wealth of these orphans without anyone else’s knowledge or invitation for one sublime reason: their father was a righteous man. Their father took care of the commandments of Allah, and Allah Ta’ala, in turn, not only took care of this man, but Allah protected the wealth of the orphans as a favour to their Duniyaa, even after he left this world.

And it was mind-blowing, because if you ask any man today what his greatest worries were, that was the crux of it, wasn’t it?

And as I looked at my friend that day, before he left for his trip to the bank, taking in his full beard, Sunnah attire and reformed ways, I could very clearly see that fatherhood had not only come naturally to him, but also reformed him in so many ways.

And it was so true, because in this case, being so close to my friend, as I witnessed him becoming a father, I couldn’t help but feel the same way.

And maybe it was the fact that for the day, I had been given the immense responsibility of watching over him for a few hours, that got to me, but that too, was not without coincidence.

“Are you implying I can’t take care of a two month old baby?” I asked Liyaket, trying to sound incredulous as I looked at his doubtful expression.

I mean, how hard can it be? All they do is drink and sleep, right?

I wasn’t yet thinking about the poo part. That, I’d pass onto someone else.

”It’s not that,” Liyaket said, biting his lip hesitantly as he held onto his son before he left. “You know this is my kid. My blood. Severe attachment issues going on.”

”Hey,” I said, trying to sound all cool and collected, as if I was the most responsible adult in the room. “I got this.”

“Okay, bru,” he said, stepping back as I heard his wife issuing some last minute commands about before he left, as if he was leaving me stranded in the desert.

And I got it. Because, from my own parents perspective and now that I saw my friend morph into fatherhood…

If you ask any man who they are working so hard for, who is the first person who comes to mind? Their kids.

But there was really no need to worry, because the answer was right there, in that Surah we are supposed to be reciting every week.

We just need to refocus. We need to pry our eyes away from the goal of being “great parents,” and set our sights on becoming “great believers.” (Which will inevitably lead to being a great parent.)

Just be good. Be sincere. Be conscious of Allah, attain piety, and Allah will, undoubtedly, take care of it all.

I held little Zaid close to my chest as his parents left, wondering why I suddenly felt like I had this enormous responsibility on my shoulders, as I watched him drifting off to slumber, almost like we had done this plenty of times before. And then I got it: I supposed that’s how a parent feels. One day you’re just a single being and the next day, you have this tiny little life depending on you for every little thing.

It’s amazing to see, isn’t it? The change that happens sometimes when a child comes into the world, how the focus shifts. Somehow, all you want to do is keep them close, shelter them from the world and keep them away from any harm that could possibly ever come to them.

There were so many things that had happened… so many trials that the world was seeing… and so much   that we had to keep our guard up about, that this parenting thing that Liyaket was already taken so seriously was already rubbing off onto me.

It had barely been three months but it was as if, without any warning even, my heart already held this binding attachment to the little guy. It was like coming home.

I already loved the kid. There we were, sitting for almost an hour, and it felt almost as if we had been best friends for years. I had bared my heart and soul, and it was as if he just got me, no questions asked.

It didn’t matter that he couldn’t exactly converse back. All I needed sometimes was someone to hear me out, and share my thoughts with. I mean, why else did you need in a soulmate? 

“Hey, that suits you,” Rabia said as she came down the stairs, smiling widely as she saw him lying in my arms, fingers in his mouth and spitting up a lovely tsunami of saliva while he was at it.

She was dressed in a long, flowy kind of dress, looking like she was ready to go somewhere important, but wasn’t in much of a rush to get going either. Maybe he was the diversion, but as her eyes settled on him, I knew that she was already a goner.

As for Zaid, he was oblivious to his cuteness as he lay there, gurgling away at nothing in particular, while Rabia went all gaga over him, with no reservations.

”Isn’t he just the sweetest little thing!” She exclaimed, bending and beaming at him as he smiled back at her. “And he likes me! What a big smile… oh my.. and he’s got stories for me too… Yeeess… I’m talking about you, little pooky pops...”

Pooky pops? Oh-Kayy.. That was a first.

I sat back and watched Rabia losing the little dignity she had left over a two month old. Seriously, what babies do to women…

“Can I carry him?” She asked, her expression unreadable for a few moments as I watched her eyeing him out.

I shrugged and picked him up easily, passing him over as she watched me in awe.

“You’re an expert, aren’t you? Where’s Liyaket?” She asked with exaggerated disbelief, taking him carefully and cradling him affectionately. “Does he need to burp?”

She eyed the bottle that was on the table, that I had literally just finished feeding him.

Okay, my bad. I did forget about the burping part. That would explain the white stuff that was now trailing down his chin, and his slight discomfort.

I wiped it with a tissue that was lying around. No time to find allocated face towels.

“He does,” I said bluntly, not admitting my mistake, as I put the lid back in the bottle and handed it to her. “You can see if he wants more after. Layyanah needed to go to the bank for a bit to sort out some account. They’ll fetch him after.”

Rabia’s eyes widened. I didn’t tell anyone in my family that he’d be here because I knew that they’d make a big deal over it. Like I was completely incapable.

As it is, Liyaket was supposed to be my best friend, but when he’d phoned ten minutes back, I could hear the humour in his voice as he was obviously calling to check on me, and not on the baby. And yes, when he had told me he would be coming into town and needed a hand with the baby, all I thought to myself was that it couldn’t be that hard, right?

Feed, play, sleep, right? Whatever. I was a little hesitant but as always, I wasn’t one to turn away a challenge.

Plus, soon I’d be leaving for the trip of my lifetime and I wasn’t sure when I’d be able to spend some alone time with the little guy again.

“The thing was, I wanted to be as available as possible. Liyaket didn’t have many people who were there for him and i wanted to be one of the few who were.

“They actually left him here alone with you?” She said, blinking in shock. “Looking after a baby? And you are this calm? Where is my spoilt and selfish brother and what have you done with him?!”

I grinned, despite her insults.

“Seriously, though,” she said, rocking Zaid as his eyes fluttered open again. I threw her his dummy in case he started wailing. “Doesn’t this just make you want another baby in the family?”

I narrowed my eyes at her, not really knowing how to answer that. I for sure, was not planning on it anytime soon.

“Let’s get to the marriage part first,” I said with a raise of my eyebrows, not mentioning Imraan on purpose as she looked away, pulling her face at the marriage part.

My sister may be an outright pest who interfered the ith everyone, but I also knew that she had gone through a pretty rough marriage and didn’t exactly come out with the best of mindsets. To top it off, last weeks Samoosa run with a guy who I had met at work had been an absolute lost cause, and she had made it very clear that she was giving up all hope of ever finding a decent man to marry.

As for my brother, I knew that his wife was kind of desperate for another kid. He had told me to make Duaa this time, when I went out with Molvi, for that specific thing, and I would.

This time, going out was going to be a completely different experience.

A mixture of nerves and excitement overcame me as I thought about how my first trip with Molvi out of the country in would pan out. I just couldn’t seem to contain my excitement.

And despite my contentment, I didn’t think many people could digest how I had just filed for unpaid leave after just a month of work. Audits, taxation and accounting no longer psyched me up like it used to. It’s like I had been completely consumed by another purpose.. a great calling that my heart was fervently yearning for…

Those few weeks with Maulana Umar had altered me, and as much as my heart was being captured now, there was no going back now.

Zaid was looking slightly unsettled as I watched him with Rabia, noticing him sucking on his fingers relentlessly. Hungry or tired? It was the greatest mystery in the land of tiny beings.

“I’m in love,” She declared, cradling baby Zaid close to her as he snuggled in.

I needed to have a chat with him. He was such a comfort creature with the ladies that it was almost embarrassing.This behavior was simply not on. If he continued like this , the ladies were going to have a field day with him. Not that he minded. But still. A little dignity at least.

Zaid’s eyes were now finally closed, and we placed him carefully on his size in a little cushion type thing that was apparently designed just for babies.

“Can’t I just wait for him to grow up?” She said quietly, careful not to stir him. She didn’t know that he slept like a log. “If I have to go through another Samoosa run I’ll just die.”

”Me too,” I said with a grin just messing around with her, sitting back now and placing my legs on the coffee table as I was finally able to relax. “Fed up of samoosas.”

Sheesh. This parenting this was no walk in the park. Now I knew why Liyaket cherished nap time so much.

Rabia gave me an unimpressed look. She obviously didn’t appreciate the humour.

”You don’t even know what a Samoosa run is!” She said bitterly. “Besides, when we went to Mohsina’s house, they didn’t even serve samoosas. They served moons and pies. Really now. Did you guys actually plan it that way?”

She looked at me sceptically and I smiled, not being able to dissolve the memory that it brought back. It was still funny even now, as I thought of it months later.

And because Mohsina’s expertise was to stir up things, the Samoosa saga was her way to get back at her Nani. It was her  idea to go against tradition and I knew that she had done it just because she wanted to annoy her.

And as we had just arrived at the house, after a few minutes  minutes of sitting and listening to general business talk of the men, I kind of decided that I needed a breather.

It may have been the plan, or just pure coincidence that on my way,  I had caught sight of Mohsina, outside the kitchen door, seizing the opportunity to have a quick chat before anyone else saw us.

”Hey,” she said, taking a step back into the kitchen and frowning at me, her cheeks slightly flushed. Her sister, who was in the room, cautiously made her way out. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

And I smiled guiltily, because I knew she was right. If Nani had to get wind of this, I would probably be in for it.  But I was drawn to her, well, not just because of how pretty she looked that day, but to be honest, because from the kitchen was the smell of something yummy and I hadn’t had time for lunch..

”I know,” I said indignantly, but not making any attempt to leave either. All I wanted was a samoosa. “Just checking what’s on the menu…”

It was just an excuse and she had turned away with a shake of her head, and I kept my distance, because I did still respect the rules we had set.

And as I watched her silently,  I could see her strategically taking some things out into a Tupperware, and placing some more things on a platter, before turning around to face me, with a triumphant expression on her face.

“You want to see something funny,” she had said mischievously with a grin, as we peeked into the room from where we were standing. “Watch Nani’s expression.”

I already knew that Nani was a really traditional character, and that made me like her even more. I had a feeling that she was probably the only one who Mohsina truly, but secretly took seriously.

It was just that I wasn’t quite sure if she would like me, so bringing the flowers that day was my form of a trade off for her approval. The dynamic between her and Mohsina had also intrigued me significantly, and I could see that Mohsina was itching to put some masala in the works that day, and she was very much successful.

I stood behind as we peeked into the room where the food was, from where we were standing, while Mohsina went onto the other side, scanning it for Nani and notably noticing her face change while she looked from one platter to the other, literally searching for samoosas, while I could hear someone asking where Mohsina was.

I could see Nani getting a little worked up, as she was calling for who I presumed was Mohsina’s mother… and that’s when Mohsina quickly straightened her scarf, gave me a warning glare that spelt that I better get out of there without a word of what she had just done, and made her appearance in the room once again, as if she was not just behaving like a unruly child a few minutes before that.

I was chuckling randomly for a good ten minutes after. For some reason, Mohsina got a kick out of living on the edge, and causing a stir. It was just that, living in the edge sometimes led to catastrophic consequences.

I stifled my sigh, looking at Rabia as she got up to put the kettle on. Looked like she wasn’t heading out after all.

And yes, as for Mohsina, maybe I should have known from the very beginning that her nature was a little erratic, but I thought that she would be able to draw boundaries where it mattered.

And now, more than ever, the lessons from the mistakes I had made now stood out greater than ever.

‘Knowing’ someone before you got proposed didn’t change a thing. Knowing someone before , set up expectations that sometimes didn’t materialize. Knowing someone before, having those memories, was something that stuck with you and literally hounded you… even when you were trying your utmost to move past it.

I sought refuge from the wrong I had done, from every sin that I thought was little, from every word I had said that may have been a source of Allah’s wrath raining down on me.

Astaghfirullah.

And now, as I found a new path in life, I knew that I had  found something better. By changing my life, by maintaining my respect… by keeping my honour intact, Allah had granted me not only peace… but a contentment that felt like I was coming home, every time I surrendered to Him.

Now, I knew better. I would do better. I knew that I’d never set myself up for so much of pain and heartache, the way that I had before.. Next time, I would play it safe.

I looked at my sister, who was still waiting for an answer.

”I think we can just blame it all on the samoosas,” I said with a grim smile. “Or lack there of. Next time, please insist- samoosas are obligatory.”

Rabia let out a loud burst of laughter.

And yes, I felt sorry for her, and she had it tough, but although  I wasn’t the biggest fan of her ex-husband, I couldn’t blame anything on him solely. Marriage is two people who are equally choosing to either make it or break it. Or maybe it wasn’t all that simple. I didn’t have all the answers, but I did know that I had plenty of time.

“No more Samoosa for me anytime soon,” she said blandly. “The problem is that everyone else gets the extra rich, cheesey ones and I’m just stuck with the tinfish.”

Tinfish samoosas? I chuckled.

“When I meet that husband of mine,” she continued with a frown. “If he even exists… I’m going to give him one big smack, for taking so bloody long.. howcome everyone has such good luck? … It’s so unfair… I met a girl ones who didn’t even have to go through all of this. Along came one rich, handsome guy from the blue and pitched up to propose. How unfair is that? And then Shabana… remember our second cousin..? she’s so spoilt rotten, can’t cook and doesn’t even greet properly when we meet her, but she got such a nice guy. And people like me end up with the rotten leftover.”

Ah, here we go again, the old ‘howcome’ saga. Howcome they get it all and we don’t? Rabia was a big fan of it and I wasn’t.

I shrugged.

“It’s Allah’s justice system,” I said simply. “You can’t question it. Allah already knows both sides of the story. We are all sinners and have done bad things. Everyone has their tests… look at people who are worse off than you before you start comparing…”

It was the golden rule to combat jealousy. And even if someone is bad to you, indeed, isn’t Allah is in charge of the how, why and where of punishment? If not now, will Allah Taála not even the scales at some point?

In a verse of Holy Qurán Allah says:

“… Indeed, Allah loves those who act justly.” (Holy Quran 60:8)

If we want to take our matters into our own hands, when Allah is the ultimate judge, is this not an injustice?

Rabia shrugged and sighed, looking at the sleeping Zaid and planting a kiss on his forehead, downing her cup of tea before getting up to leave again.

And yes, I understood her point. There are times when I wonder how people who I know or once knew ever got away with things that they did. There were times when I wondered how the scales will be evened, when it seems like nothing in life is fair and will ever be okay again.

But all these feelings… this hostility… the aversion to people… the ill feelings… it all went away when I took a new step in my new journey of life.

I didn’t have to hold onto past grievances because I had full faith that Allah already knew exactly what my heart had been through and had a perfect plan that was just for me.

And yes, for now, I had found a place where my heart was at ease… and I had found home.

I knew that if Allah was in my side, whatever hurt, whatever pain… I knew that my Allah would never abandon me.

Home was where my heart was contented and where I really had no desire to be anywhere else but where I was right then.

And as I got up and left Zaid in his sleepy silence for a good few minutes, I found my mind switching back to the present once again.

It was just two days left, before I would be leaving again, and I could barely wait.

And I supposed it was his luck that as he shifted again and the front door opened, with both my sister-in-law and my mother entering, the huge wail that escaped from his mouth got them both rushing over and swooning over him like they’d never seen a baby before in their lives.

Life, huh? It was weird that way. One way you were a normal person with not much purpose, and the next moment you have this tiny human being who turns everything around and brings a light even in the darkest of times…

Sometimes home wasn’t a place. Sometimes home was a feeling. Sometimes home was two eyes and a beating heart, and sometimes that home was all that mattered.

It was just three weeks, I told myself, feeling amazingly discomforted by the fact that I would be away from Zaid for so long. It felt liek a lifetime and I was beginning to feel like a real parent now.

Feelings of guilt and missing out on important milestones of his life were starting to plague me. This whole parenting this was becoming a little too a serious for me, but I couldn’t stop it. I supposed once it hit you, there was no going back.

My world had already changed, and life was already so different to the one of that free-spirited and carefree guy that I glimpsed in the mirror just a few months ago.

What I didn’t know that coming back home after three weeks would feel like I was coming back to a completely different world…

---

Mission Sunnah Revival

In an effort to revive a Sunnah, let’s try and put our family first, instead of friends, followers and anyone else… be the best we can be to those who truly do love us the most ❤️

Sunnah of being best to our family.

Aisha (RA) reported: The Messenger of Allah, peace and blessings be upon him, said, “The best of you are the best to their families, and I am the best to my family...”

Source: Sunan al-Tirmidhī 3895

Du’aa for Rajab 

اَللّهُمَّ بَارِكْ لَنَا فِى رَجَبَ وَ شَعْبَانَ وَ بَلِّغْنَا رَمَضَان

Allaahumma Baa’rik La’naa Fee Rajab(a), Wa Sha’baan(a), Wa Bal’ligh’naa Ramadhaan.

“O Allaah! Make the months of Rajab and Sha’baan blessed for us, and let us reach the month of Ramadhaan.”

#RevivetheSunnahofGoodAkhlaaq

#RevivetheSunnahbeforeSleeping

#RevivetheSunnahofGuardingtheGaze

#RevivetheSunnahofLickingtheFingers

#RevivetheSunnahofMiswaak

#RevivetheSunnahofEnteringtheToilet

#RevivetheSunnahofSpeakingGood

#RevivetheSunnahofUsingtheRighthand

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The Art of Waiting

Bismihi Ta’ala

Hamzah

It’s common knowledge about the human race, that when facts become a little illusive, people become damn inquisitive. Everyone wants the details. The low down. Wanting to know when and why and how it will all happen. Wanting to know, before hand, given advanced notice. Everyone wants to be one up in the game, so they won’t be caught off-guard, unprepared, on their back foot… when it all goes down.

But there are many things we are not given knowledge of in this world, simply because that’s the way it’s meant to be. Many instances when we have to wait… when we have no idea of whats in store for us in the future. And for one, when I delved into the dark, I had no idea what to expect or what would come out of my situation. And if I myself was a little confused and uncertain, well, how the hell was I going to give anyone else any answers?

But life is such that many things that Allah has kept hidden from us, and many things that only Allah has knowledge of. This world is such that we can plot and plan, but at the end of it, the final decision is in the hands of the one Maker, Breaker and Decision-Taker.

A man asked the Prophet (sallalahu Alaihi Wa Sallam) about the Hour (i.e. Day of Judgment) saying, “When will the Hour be?”

The Prophet (Sallalahu Alaihi wa Sallam) said, “What have you prepared for it?”

The man said, “Nothing, except that I love Allah and His Apostle.”

The Prophet (Sallalahu Alaihi wa Sallam) said, “You will be with those whom you love.”

The Sahabah said: We had never been so glad as we were on hearing that saying of the Prophet (i.e., “You will be with those whom you love.”)

Therefore, I love the Prophet Sallalahu Alaihi wa Sallam, Abu Bakr (RA) and `Umar, (RA) and I hope that I will be with them because of my love for them though my deeds are not similar to theirs.

And yes, there were many things I didn’t know, like what date we were setting the wedding for or how many people I wanted to invite, but as I looked at my brother who was walking toward me with his Sunnah style beard and clothing, there was one thing that I did know.

And yes, even though I had many undesirable qualities in me, one thing that I did have in me was that I loved him for what he was. If I looked at my brother, or my father, or even Maulana Umar, who I saw more often now that Imraan was moving back to the farm, even though I myself had zero of his qualities, I had a deep-rooted admiration for them. For what their did. For how seriously they took Deen. For fighting (and at times, literally fighting) for what they believed in.

I was amazed by their perseverance in a western world, to be who they were and be consistent, even when there was so much against them.

I loved who they were, and through that love, I only hoped that we I could be united with them in the next world. That was all. But was it enough?

And as I cooled off on my parents lounger at our family home at a gated estate in the north of Johannesburg, shoes off and legs up as Imraan sat at the edge of my couch, I glanced at my phone and wondered how people did it. Like, with the click of a button, the whole world becomes your oyster. How do you even stay strong and hold yourself back? How did you control urges to do wrong and just be strong?

I watched my brother from the corner of my eye as he kicked his shoes off, knowing what he was itching to find out about.

And it was a welcome diversion. My mother had been hounding me about things I didn’t and couldn’t give her answers to. Like, what was Mohsina’s favourite colour? Would she prefer rose gold jewelry or white gold? Whether she was a chocolate or flowers kind of person.
Between her and my sister’s nagging, I had to make a u-turn every time I saw them. I could honestly do with some normal conversation. Details weren’t my thing, and frankly, I didn’t really care.

“So how did it go?” Imraan asked, his dark brows raised at me slightly as his one leg jiggled mindlessly. “The interview.”

I shrugged. I had told him last week that I was leaving Hammond’s to move to another company called TSW. It seemed like a good move to make and to tell the truth, I was feeling pretty excited about the change.

“They’re a big company too,” he said, watching me skeptically. “Big company with some big clients. May be a little bit of a jolt for you, especially since it will be the start of your career. Don’t you feel you may want to stick to who you know?”

”I like a challenge,” I said, running my hands through my growing beard roughly. “Change is good. Change is what helps me to grow.”

It was true. I thrived on change. There had been so many changes and I didn’t feel like I was lacking in any way because of it.

The interview with TWC had gone pretty well, by my standards. It was a slightly smaller company than Hammonds but they were desperately in need of a CA for their debtors department and I kind of got the feeling that I fitted the profile perfectly. Also, they had mostly men on the pay roll which I’m sure Imraan would be happy with.

Imraan went silent and I looked up as my sister-in-law, Saaliha came in with a plate of some sort of filled puri treat that I remembered. She probably remembered how I had devoured the whole tray and I thanked her and took one, munching noisily as she poured tea for Imraan and coffee for me.

Okay, I won’t lie. Now that I thought about it, I was a little spoilt. The thing was, I was the baby of the family and to tell the truth, till that point, I was ridiculously indulged by all the women that surrounded us. And now that I watched my sister in law, I wasn’t quite sure how Mohsina would adjust to that role. But it didn’t matter, did it? I had everyone else to do it for me, didn’t I?

”So you definitely moving ship,” Imraan said, taking a sip of his tea. “And your wife?”

He said wife like we were already married. I sat up and gulped half the mug of coffee.

“We haven’t discussed it yet,” I said nonchalantly.

And I was trying to play it cool and not think about next year too much. All I knew was that I had made it clear that Hammonds wasn’t an option for either of us. Faadil was another story altogether but what I did know was that there were some things that are better left unsaid. I had caught him more than once in some unfavourable situations and working under someone whose priorities were skewed was never going to do any good for anyone.

As for Mohsina, ideally I’d want her to be home. We didn’t need the extra income, so there was no need to really push ourselves to the limits when it came to building our careers.

“Really?” Imraan said, his eyebrows slightly raised. “Bru, you don’t think of will be a problem? I mean , for me, the woman is the Queen of the home. My wife knows that and she loves it. But you need to discuss it with her first, you can’t leave these things unsaid..”

I shrugged again. Okay, so let me just explain. Imraan and I were born a whole generation, if not two, apart, when he had gotten married, things were just a little different. Some things went without saying. Women I knew who were working back them may have had a little business on the side, just to keep them busy or earn additional income, but it wasn’t like how it is with my generation. We were just savage. Women had actual careers that they took really seriously. Women and men in the workplace were almost on equal wavelengths. They competed directly with each other. It was an idea that was never foreign to me because it’s what I had known all along, ever since I had entered the workplace.

To tell the truth, I knew that I had to clear some things up. There were a few things about my fiancé’s life that I wasn’t comfortable with and I had let her know some of it, in no uncertain terms. But it was one thing at time. Baby steps, right?

“It’s different now, Imo,” I said, placing my mugg down and sitting back and looking at my brother. “Chics are different. No one wants to sit at home.”

”What you mean no-one wants to stay home?” he said, looking confused. “It’s this feminism stuff isn’t it? Did she say that?”

“Not really,” I said, feeling a little defensive about it. I mean, how else was I supposed to feel, I know what I seemed like.

Feminism. Something that goes against the natural way of how the Almighty intended for the world to run.

Men and women are not created equal or there wouldn’t be any need for two genders for us to survive.

Women didn’t see the value in being home because to be out there, sacrificing their lives, their time and their marriages didn’t matter as much as proving that they were equal to men.

“Listen, bro,” he said, lowering his voice. “Your mother, Rabia and the wife are all going shopping for your proposal next week. What if she doesn’t think the way you do? You better sort your shit out before they waste all that stuff for nothing. Saaliha already bought a new cloak. Do you guys… meet.. ?”

”Not anymore,” I said confidently, glad that we had made the resolution to stay away until Nikah. And I had been doing so. So far.

He just shook his head.

“That means you’ll were involved right?” He said, his eyes slightly narrowed. My brother wasn’t stupid. He knows what happens to a boy and girl when they get together. Especially in a work environment where there are no boundaries.

“Not exactly,” I said carefully. I was still feeling awkward about discussing these things with my older brother. He was like 10 years older than I was. It almost felt like my father.

“Make Taubah,” said my brother-turned-nearly Maulana. “Like sincere repentance. You guys are making it all clean now, so try going in with a clean slate.”

He said Taubah like I needed to hang my head in shame.

“Don’t stress,” I said to him, waving my hand indifferently, not wanting to divulge further. “We just spoke.”

”Just spoke?” He pressed, completely oblivious to my awkwardness and obviously not believing me. He ran a real no-bullshit regime. “Either way…You know speaking is Zinaa too, don’t you?”

And okay, so maybe we had done it all wrong. I mean, I spoke to chics all the time and I never hid it from anyone. There was no use acting all holier-than-thou and going behind peoples backs and meeting up. For me, what you saw was what you got, and I wasn’t about to hide my sins. I knew it didn’t validate it, but my mindset was a little skewed and I knew it. I just couldn’t stop myself.

And that’s why, when things first started with Mohsina, I actually had no idea what was going to happen. I was taking it as it comes, like I usually did. And coincidentally, it was around that time when I was kind of sneaking around, not because I wanted to but for her sake, that Liyaket pulled me aside one day.

And I knew that Liyaket knew, because he helped to set it all up, but what he didn’t know was that I probably wasn’t as serious as he wanted me to be. What he said though, was what made me think:

“If you not willing to change for anyone, don’t expect anyone to change for you.”

Liyaket always had these deep lines that came out of nowhere. And I supposed it kind of went with our conversation before he got married of settling down and getting out of all my previous immature habits. Liyaket wanted to me to settle down, and all I knew was that there wasn’t anyone worth settling down with. His point was that I probably wasn’t a person anyone took seriously about settling down with either. And of course it stung, but I supposed it was true.

And at that point, until then, I wasn’t serious. I didn’t understand boundaries. I didn’t have any. I had become so used to doing as I pleased. The thing was, when I saw Mohsina that Nikah day, looking unlike the career-inspired girl I knew from work, I kind of got the feeling that she was stressed about something out of her control. And I was just asking out of concern.

And she was looking just a little distressed and unlike herself, so I had to ask.

“I can’t find my brother,” she said, looking defeated and exhausted. “And we need to leave, like, right now. Have you seen him by any miracle?”

And of course I saw her brother. I remembered meeting him earlier that day. He was awkward, like most teenagers, he looked very much like he was still trying to figure himself out. And when Sa’ad got talking to him about something, I remembered him telling his father that they were headed to the front shed. Sa’ad was Maulana Umar’s son and I had introduced her brother to him, knowing he was a good guy, but not knowing that the two of them will go off and go awol in the bushes. And that was precisely where I was taking her to. No funny business was intended at that point. I just felt responsible.

“How do you like the farm?” I asked, just making conversation as I showed her the way. I wasn’t going to act like a cake now that we were out of work territory.

And as we walked across the meadow where two horses stood, almost submerged in the greenery, I was so used to it, that I didnt notice her staring at the plot in awe. And as I followed her gaze, I knind of guessed  it seemed like we were in a completely different world.

Nothing else did it justice. No words. No pictures. I didn’t even bother with raising my phone because this moment… well, it was everything. It was more than snaps or captions or posts. It was more than just living in virtual reality, blinded to the real life that was so brutal and consuming and kept her away from this kind of sincere beauty.

“Do you ever wonder about life beyond there?”  I said, looking out into the open, unable to digest that this place was really quite enchanting. It seemed like another world.

I looked at her for a minute, and at first I thought that she didn’t hear me. She didn’t meet my eye.

And then, as I averted my gaze and we trudged into the thicket, the easiest path to the mentioned shed, her voice sounded like a different person.

“I feel like I haven’t been living all this time,” she said, , sounding completely different to the self-centered career girl I knew all along. “Like we’ve been missing out on all of this for so long and everything else is just one big lie. Can you imagine waking up to this every day? Can you even imagine just leaving the whole world and it’s illusions, and just putting it all behind, because this … well, this is so much more real than you’ve ever felt in your life.”

I looked at her, silent because I was a little shocked, but she didn’t really notice. Instead, she just laughed.

Almost as if she realised something humorous.

“Oh yes,” she grinned, walking along. “You don’t have to imagine. You guys probably do it all the time.”

The next words I said without even thinking. And there were some alarm bells ringing but I was completely oblivious to it as I said them.

“Why don’t you stay over and you can see for yourself?”

And of course, I didn’t even realise what I was saying until I finished say it. Of course, I meant that she could stay with my sister – there were so many rooms there-  we each had our own allocated houses on the plot and my sisters was pretty much free.

She gave me a weird look and then all I could think was, oh shit. I really put my foot in it, didn’t I?

And she didn’t get a chance to respond because we had already reached the shed and her brother and Sa’ad were already in view with a few different farm knives in front of them. All my fathers tools and slaughtering knives were here and it seemed like Sa’ad had been introduced to them before. I just didn’t know that Mohsina’s brother was into all that stuff, but teenagers were weird like that. I could already see Sa’ad giving me weird looks, and I knew that being Maulana’s son, he was probably wondering what I was doing with a girl, but for me and my mindset- well, I didn’t owe him any explanation. I was too busy fretting about the stupid thing I had said a few moments back. I didn’t want her to get the wrong idea.

“My parents will be waiting for us,” was all she said as she left, pulling her brother with her as I nodded, feeling a little awkward now.

She was going to be travelling home alone, and i knew I should have offered  to follow them or something but at that point I was already feeling that I had crossed way too many boundaries. And I was right. But see, this is what happens when boundaries are crossed. It doesn’t end there, because once a spark is ignited, it’s kind of hard to put it off.

But that was all history, and I knew that Imraan had a point.

Yes, there was a shame in sin, but the bigger shame was when you don’t repent for it.

And after Imraan’s chat, and him explaining way more to me, I pulled myself together. I really did want to be better. A better Muslim. A better person. Besides Jumuah, I barely even made it for Salaah to the mosque in years and I knew that something had to change.

I left home after greeting my mother, responding to her questions after she showed me the fifteen choices of jewellery and asking me to choose which one to take for the proposal which was getting everyone all in a frenzy. Of course, she was only planning ahead, and though it made me only a little unsettled, after chatting to Imraan, I kind of got why.

I felt like I needed to work on so much, before I took that step. But given time… Well, who knew what time could bring? There’s something amazing that I learnt about waiting. There is a beauty in waiting, sometimes, for something that you really want.

Once you slow down, then you see it. Once you slow down long enough from overanalysing, overthinking and unraveling the past. Sometimes we have to shelve the fear, abandon the hesitancy, and then just take the bait, like a fish in icy waters, looking for its prey.

And there’s a beauty… a certain art in waiting for something you really want. There’s an appreciation in not having what you want right then, just because you want it. It’s the training. The suppressing. The knowledge that not everything in this Duniyaa is for us to use and abuse as we want. The art of waiting is that it gives us time… Time to take those baby steps. Time to find that comfort that we need to.

As I stepped outside, instead of heading to play cards like I usually would, I knew that maybe it was time to do some true introspection. It was time to use the time I had for the better, not for the worse.

And maybe waiting would be easier if you knew something would definitely be a part of your story, but sometimes when you focus on that, you may be depriving yourself of all the other amazing things that are waiting for you on the path you’re meant to take.

Sometimes all those wrong chapters of your life need to be left behind. Let them serve as lessons and move on to better things.

Maybe it was an epiphany, but I knew that this was coming and right now, was the time. It was time to follow the footsteps of those that I wanted to be with, not now, but forever.

---

Mission Sunnah Revival: Sunnah of Lowering/Guarding the Gaze 

It is in this instance and era, surrounded by half-naked people, that we must have the courage to follow the command of Allah and His Prophet Muhammad (Sallalahu alaihi wa Sallam) and lower our gazes.

Despite what anyone may say, looking upon that which one is not supposed to is going near adultery, for an illicit affair begins with a lustful glance.

Allah wishes for us not to commit this ugly sin, and thus He commands us to lower our gazes:

“Tell the believing men that they should lower their gaze and guard their modesty; that will make for greater purity for them; And Allah is well acquainted with all that they do.

And tell the believing women that they should lower their gaze and guard their modesty…” (Quran 24:30-31).

The Sunnah of lowering the gaze even on social media is also important and detrimental to our imaan if not done, a stepping stone to greater sins.

#RevivetheSunnahofLickingtheFingers

#RevivetheSunnahofMiswaak

#RevivetheSunnahofEnteringtheToilet

#RevivetheSunnahofSpeakingGood

#RevivetheSunnahofUsingtheRighthand

FB/Instagram: @thejourneyingmuslimah

When the Game Changes

Bismihi Ta’ala

Two months later

Mohsina

I once heard someone say that for the generation of people that we call the millennials, sitting is the new smoking. And with all the health aversions that come with that, more concerning is the thing that we often do while we’re sitting:

Mindlessly scrolling through our social media feeds when we have a few spare minutes (or for some like me, when I’m not working, sometimes for hours). And as we probably know intuitively, and as the research is confirming, it’s not the best habit for health or even for our collective psychology. In a world where we think through, we learn through, we escape into … it becomes something that is completely consuming and an actual hobby, we still find ourselves lonely and isolated, even with every application or device at our disposal.

And there were many things that I could tell you about during that frame of time where I was grappling to find myself, but the one that stood out for me was finding myself out of a virtual world that I was positively sinking into before that.

It’s not always easy to change your perspective. To see a new world, new choices, new possibilities. Often when submerged in darkness, it’s almost impossible to even find a sliver of light.

And I’d be lying if I said that that day spent out in the open, almost in another dimension, in the midst of the consuming greenery of Kwa-Zulu Natal and its splendour, did not make a difference to me. Of course it did, but as much as it had changed my heart, there was something else that had changed too.

Sometimes change is not once off. We are constantly changing. Morphing. Emerging. And sometimes it’s not always for the better.

And with all my Netflix and Instafam challenges that were going on, whether it was a make-up challenge or little reel that I was doing just for kicks, I knew that it was going to pull me back into it, as soon as I got back to my normal routine.

But even amidst all that, in retrospect, it was the beginning of a different era for me, a game changer, and Layyanah’s simple wedding was when it all started.

Two months later, as I sat on a bar stool near my newly bought Kitchen Aid mixer, I was now in a completely different dimension altogether.

Hey babes. U busy?

I glanced as my phone lit up, actually not keen on replying right then because my fingers were intricately piping the little rosettes on my mini cheesecakes. The phone would have to wait, for once. These salted-caramel babies were going off later for a special order and I wanted them to be perfect. And yes, you are probably wondering what on Earth happened to the Snapchat and Netflix addicted version of Mostly Mohsina, but the journey that had brought me up that point was definitely not to be undermined.

The next message came before I could even break away from the task at hand.

I’m coming over.

I set my piping bag down, wiping off the icing that had decorated my lower arm by mistake, and then popping the cakes into the bar fridge I had bought especially for my baking.

I glanced in the mirror, taking in this new lady, with her hair wrapped up neatly, and my new pro chef-style apron, who appeared so collected and unconcerned at the incessant buzzing of her phone. Sometimes, real life was really more exciting than what went on in that delusional alternative.

And seeing her car already in the driveway and my lack of replies, I knew that Layannah had probably checked with Jameela if I was home before she took the two-minute drive over. And in all fairness, Layyanah kind of had a right to come over and hound me.  It had been nearly two months of beating around the bush and then flat out denying anything was serious.

And I was being cautious. All I was doing at that point was trying to figure out who I was. Trying to keep everyone happy. Trying to not get caught up. Trying to divert my attention. Trying to stay off social media. Trying to be a better version of me.

Sometimes you need someone who you take seriously to make you take the plunge. Sometimes it just takes something bigger to make a difference.
Everything was looking a little clearer. A little more purer. A little more transparent.

Since I dropped Netflix, my time management skills were soaring. And now that I was all into my pastry cheffing, which was very likely my next feasible career option, I pressed out the extra cream that was in the piping bag, wiped my hands and grabbed my phone to hastily type away before she entered the kitchen.

I could already hear her and Jameela chatting away in the hallway about baby-related items, but I needed a heads up just in case my inkling about her knowing the unknown were right.

Did u tell Liyaket?

It was a simple and to the point iMessage because we had made a resolution that any extensive messages were out of bounds. I just needed to know one thing.

Hamzah’s reply, as usual, was quick.

I thought u said no messaging. 

I scowled. So he was being cocky about it. I did say no messages. We had also said no calls, but he had called the day before when he needed to know if my family had anything planned the following weekend. And this was urgent. I wanted to know what I was up for when Layyanah arrived and he was obviously refusing to be transparent for a reason that I knew too well.

Also, I knew that those Hamzah and Liyaket couldn’t keep a thing from each other, so I should have known. They were worse than women. Still, he had no right to open his big mouth without telling me, especially since Liyaket hid nothing from Layyanah either.

And speaking of her, it was at that moment that my friend emerged from the lounge, all bright eyed and ecstatic.

If pregnancy glow was a real thing, Layyanah definitely had it. She wore a grey hijab tied traditionally and a long blush dress with grey tights and patent grey pumps. Her cheeks were glowing and she was looking amazing and I couldn’t help but feel emotional about how far she had come, spiritually. She had changed so much, and not only in her appearance. I had seen that she had even begun reading her salaah, which I knew was a huge step for anyone, after so many years of not praying. I was so, so proud of her.

“Salaaaam lovieee,” Layyanah cooed as she entered, her eyes all glowing and excited.

Layyanah was here in record time. She had become a piece of furniture here now that she lived a few streets away from us, and my parents and Nani absolutely loved her to bits.

And of course, I was over the moon that Liyaket had found a cute little 3-bedroom house, fully equipped with a little yard and a flatlet outside in the area. Liyaket’s mother had been a tenant of someone somewhere for years, and now that Liyaket could finally stand in his own feet, he often said that the least he could do was help to look after his mother. It was the perfect set-up because now that Layyanah was expecting, it would definitely be good to have the little help she could offer, since her parents were not exactly involved in their life much. And yes, I had spoken to her about her mother and though she had said that she was trying to make amends with her parents, from what I heard, they weren’t really interested in being involved in her ‘lowly’ life.

But for Layyanah, it didn’t matter. Although Liyakets mother was not in the best of health and had tremendous back problems, she was absolutely ecstatic that a baby was on its way, and to tell the truth, so was I.

”Hey you,” I smiled, wiping my hands on my apron and kissing her cheek lightly. Jameela was right behind her. “How’s my angel girl doing?”

It was too early to find out the baby gender, but I was convinced she was having a girl. Liyaket had another theory though.

“Killing me slowly,” she groaned, making a puking face. “I cannot eat a thing. It’s nearly 12 weeks and if it doesn’t end soon I think I may just have to give it a good scolding.”

“Don’t terrorise my baby,” I warned her. “You know I’m going to be her favourite aunty, don’t you?”

“Then it better behave,” she retorted, but there was a huge smile on her face as she said it. “Because her favourite aunty is going to be getting married soon and I cannot be feeling like I’m dying on the Nikah day! Liyaket just told me that you guys are planning the wedding for January. I’m so freakin’ excited!”

I knew it. Where I preferred to be quiet and private, Hamzah was the complete opposite.

I hated drama.

“Ssshhhh!” I said, placing my finger to my lips. “My parents don’t know yet. I have to speak to my father first. They only want to come in two weeks so I’m kind of waiting till next week before..”

I could see Jameela looking at me with a smirk on her face. Of course she knew, and to be frank, she was obsessed with Hamzah and his family. I’m not even joking. She honestly thought that the guy could do no wrong and speak no wrong. I had no chance if there was ever an argument, because Jameela was always on his side.

Layyanah narrowed her eyes and then widened them, as her expression changed.

”But why so longgg?!” She moaned, looking annoyed.

I rolled my eyes. Long?!

”Make Nikah, and then carry on as you’ll are!” She said simply. “Easy peezy.”

I knew that she was talking from a place of concern for us and she was so right. Ideally, to make Nikah would be awesome so we could chat, guilt-free, and just get to know each other in the meantime.

But there were always buts. We were both at really crucial points in our career and we couldn’t not announce a Nikah. Hamzah was on the brink of signing with a big company for next year. We also didn’t want interfere with the office policy and work place rules.

”It’s not long!” I argued. “Next year is literally around the corner. If we do it now it will just be a big drama  and you know how I love drama.”

It wasn’t long. It was a few weeks away. I felt like it was just just yesterday that Hamzah and I were going through that weird and awkward phase after Liyaket and Layyanah’s wedding where we had no idea how to face each other.

And I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t think of Hamzah as more than a friend that fateful day out in the open, when emotions had overcome me the spring air was knocking me completely off my base. But of course, I wasn’t that type to go all gaga over a guy, and the last person I ever expected to be even slightly impressed  by was Hamzah.

And then the following weekend, when I met Layyanah for coffee at our usual spot, her eyes were all shiny and excited, like she was hiding a huge secret.

At that point it was too soon for a pregnancy announcement and so I looked at her, all confused, wondering what exactly she was all bright-eyed about.

And then she said:

“So what do you think about Hamzah?”

And I had frowned slightly, wondering why she was asking.

“He’s cool,” was all I said, not giving away too much.

And yes. It was typical me. Trying to deny feelings and all that. I was scared. Really scared that he would be the one to pull his usual tricks on me because by now, I knew them all too well.

“Cool as in?!” She pressed, raising her eyebrows. “Does he make the cut for Mostly Mohsina’s high standards or not? Because Liyaket think that Hamzah needs a girl to ground him and we think that that girl is you.”

“So you guys are trying to set him up with me?” I said, a little annoyed.

I felt like I was a dirty rag being used to wipe a spilled mess because I was convenient. I wasn’t just prepared to be used because I was there.

Ghuh.

Why couldn’t Hamzah make his own decisions?

“Listen,” I said, raising my eyebrows. “I know Hamzah and I know how he rolls. There’s no way that I’m going to be one of those girls who go all gaga and then he drops like hot potato. Sorry, Layy. I’m not interested, neh.”

Pssshht. Like really. What did she think I was? Did she think I was going to fall for that?

Layyanah sighed. And then she knocked me for a six.

“Hamzah’s crazy about you,” she blurted, rolling her eyes and I just kind of went into cardiac arrest. Right there. “Do you even know how bloody unapproachable you are?”

And I was lying if I said that the feelings and butterflies that come with someone who you really want to know about can be stifled. I tried with everything I had within me to fight it, to ignore it, and to act like I didn’t care, because I knew that no good could come out of something that started with sin.

And no, none of it was right or then there was a hint of seriousness a week later, when there came the game changer and it was so strange because it was only afterward that I realised that some things happen with lessons that are two-fold. That sometimes Allah wants good for you, ans puts you in the deep end because he knows you deserve so much more than what you settled for.

The Holy Qur’aan mentions:

‘And approach not adultery, for it is a shameful deed and an evil, opening the road to other evils.’

In a world where every second person was involved in a relationship and set on completely disregarding the laws of Allah, going out and walking around Sandton or Rosebank with my guy, going out to the famous coffee shops we all loved as if it was the trending thing to do. But was it trending when it came to the laws of Allah?

Because the verse was so true when it’s said that Zinaa opens the doorway to other sins. We are so caught up, so brainwashed and convinced that Zinaa and extra marital relationships are ‘normal’, that haraam has become a norm and halaal no longer has any value. Limits have been pushed and boundaries have been broken. It’s progressed so much and to such an extent that no joy is even found in what’s become ‘normal’. Unfortunately, for some, no joy is even found in the simple haraam. And this is the cause for the degradation of humans, and why they fall into the trap of LGBTQ, thinking it’s all okay to be however you want to be… when really, it goes completely against the laws of nature to satisfy yourself with anything other than what’s Halaal.

And no, people don’t just change overnight. It happens over a frame of time, where people slowly get dragged into sin and as they get deeper and deeper, they kind of get sucked in.

It just so happened that things had kind of spiralled out of control for me before we got to grips with what we were getting into. At first it was more of a ‘let’s see where this thing is going’ kind of tune. We chatted. We joked. We even met on a whim, outside the office, for a quick walk to the Gautrein before a meeting.

Yes, sometimes we change, but the change is not always for the better.

Together with this sin, my virtual reality continued at a steady pace of filming reels and reviewing products and keeping followers hooked. As always, there has to be a game changer.

Now, by now I’m sure that you are well aware of how seriously I take my social media pages. And in case you didn’t know, Hamzah was born on a completely differently planet. He had no social media applications whatsoever and relentlessly picked on my occupation with mine. And so it went, a light-hearted reel that I had done about Muslim guys pick up lines (that had zilch to do with him) just for kicks went viral (which is every influencers dream) and spiked my followers to almost 12k. Of course, I was ecstatic. It was a dream come true, and I honestly was blown away by the response.

And nevermind everything that goes with the whole social media upkeep, anything was worth it. I didn’t think much of it, because for me, that was who I was. I was virtual reality, and my life was pretty much absorbed in it, so I really didn’t see the issue.

I barely thought it would reach Hamzah (and I’m sure it was the work of his annoying sister who had become my rival after the episode at the wedding) but it did, and the entire thing just blew out of proportion.

And of course, I had the upper hand, because being me, all liberated and independent, I knew that it shouldn’t concern him. I mean, it was my life and my business and I told him precisely that.

Like, there was no way I was going to let some (random) guy come and trash and change everything that I had worked so hard to achieve. I had put a lot of effort into my social media pages. I earned money from them too. I didn’t deserve to be told what I couldn’t do. If you weren’t paying me, you don’t have a right to question me. I was feminism at its best… or should I say, at its worst. I just couldn’t see it yet.

”What’s the big deal?” I had typed ferociously (please tell me, how do you even argue with someone over iMessage?!). “It’s not like it even has anything to do with you.”

And he only said this:

Its unnecessary. I don’t like to see you on social media. It’s like you are selling yourself.

Now that, just made me mad. If it was a guy doing it, it would be a different story, wouldn’t it? But because I was a woman and I had filmed something humorous, I was selling myself? 

How dare he tell me what I could or couldn’t do? I didn’t have a ring on my finger. As long as we both were where we were, we could both do as we please.

Right?

Wrong. We forget that we have a Creator and Provider to please too. That each gender has his specific strengths and weaknesses and Hayaa is a crucial part of Imaan.

Once your Hayaa is compromised, so is your Imaan, and it was a risky gamble to take, but I did.

And yes, with all my new ideologies and perception that I was only accountable to myself, I was wrong. But then again, so was he. We were wrong in our approach, wrong in what we were doing. Wrong in trying to combat Haraam with something Haraam, and he may have had a point but that’s precisely what got him.

As long as there is no commitment then there are no rules. And simply ‘going out’ with someone does not define commitment. I expected him to call it quits, at that point. And I didn’t care. I took the risk. Arrogance had consumed me. In my world, I didn’t need a man to prove my worth. And I put on a brave front when we didn’t speak for a day, I wasn’t going to go crawling back with my tail in my legs. And I knew that I was being full of myself, but Hamzah was, surprisingly, not as immature as I was and as I thought.

And woah, his response really blew me away.

Because he didn’t act the way I thought he would. Instead, he told his mother about me. And his sister. And then his brother. And then he phoned me to tell me that it’s time to be serious and that he’s coming home to meet my parents, but this time,I need to change something too, and that this was my cue to trash all my reel-making.

How the hell is that for a game changer?!

And of course I was completely stunned. Not to mention, reeling from panic. All I could think of was that this was happening way too fast. We had barely spoken for 2 minutes. Did he even know my crazy Nani and family and how they behaved?!

How on earth did he just decide that he was ready to take this to another level?

And then, common sense was finally settling in for me. If this was what he wanted, it meant that Hamzah, of all people was actually serious about me. Why, I had no idea. But this meant that we really had to change something. There was no way that we can carry on chatting and ‘dating’ because I knew very well that there was never any barakah in that. It was no use denying the facts.

And I didn’t expect it, but the thing was, staying away made things more exciting. It was like venturing into the unknown. Nikah was a few weeks away and  all we had to be was a be patient and everything would fall into place.

Sometimes it takes two people to be strong. When it comes to things like this, one person just doesn’t make the cut. What was the excitement in doing something that was forbidden when there was a simple and easy way to make it all right?

And yes, though Nani, friends and family were keeping me busy in the weekend, work was still sucking me in during the week. I was still focused and determined to prove myself, and I could see that I was a huge competition for many people who were still running after the incentive that had been offered over 2 months back.

The last thing we needed was anyone finding out and ratting us out at work, because a bad referral wouldn’t be good for any new opportunities.

And it was barely a day after Layyanah had promised to plan my entire wedding function, when I sat all absorbed in the latest account that Faadil had assigned to me, when the memo from his e-mail address came, summoning me to his office for a meeting within ten minutes. And I was all cool about it, thinking that maybe he was rushing off for a meeting and needed to check in with me before he went off until I made my way over to his door, when I realised that this wasn’t exactly about what I presumed.

As I pushed the door open, sitting on the chair on the other side of Faadil’s desk was none other than Hamzah, and I immediately did a double take as he caught my eye, and I recognised that look of concern as he communicated for a moment, that maybe, just maybe, we might be in for it.

For once in my life, I didn’t know what to say until Faadil gestured for me to sit down. Oh yes, if I thought that we had a game changer before, this was going to be an even bigger one.

“Take a seat,” he said in his office voice, and I knew that he meant business. “There’s something I need to discuss with you two.”

 

---

Dearest Readers,

Shukran to everyone for reading❤️

Although the topic of Zinaa in the Quran and Sunnah is obviously clear and unambiguous, the reality of our times is that Zinaa in schools, universities and even the workplace is so common and even regarded now as a norm.

And although in the past I’ve steered clear of it, I think sometimes we have to take the bull by the horns and talk about it. Although this in no way validates it, the best is to stop the sin and make Nikah and atone for it.  At times when it’s not always possible, to show a way of lessening Allah’s displeasure, Ulema advise to leave the sin completely. 

May Allah forgive us for the wrongs we’ve done in our past, and especially for the ones we never hastened to make right. I hope that this can sincerely review someone’s perspective on extra marital relations and hope that for the pleasure of Allah we can stop sin, especially amongst our youth, and bring Barakah into our lives again.

Please let me know your thoughts – hoping we can explore the topic a bit more. Thoughts? 

Duaas for the ummah 🤲🏼

Much Love

A xx

Mission Sunnah Revival: Sunnah of Lowering/Guarding the Gaze 

It is in this instance and era, surrounded by half-naked people, that we must have the courage to follow the command of Allah and His Prophet Muhammad (Sallalahu alaihi wa Sallam) and lower our gazes.

Allah says:

“Do not go near fornication and adultery, it is an abomination and an evil way.” (Quran 17:32).

This sin is so hateful in the sight of Our Lord, that He commanded us to not even go near it.

Despite what anyone may say, looking upon that which one is not supposed to is going near adultery, for an illicit affair begins with a lustful glance.

Allah wishes for us not to commit this ugly sin, and thus He commands us to lower our gazes:

• “Tell the believing men that they should lower their gaze and guard their modesty; that will make for greater purity for them; And Allah is well acquainted with all that they do.

And tell the believing women that they should lower their gaze and guard their modesty…” (Quran 24:30-31).

The Sunnah of lowering the gaze even on social media is also important and detrimental to our imaan if not done, a stepping stone to greater sins.

#RevivetheSunnahofLickingtheFingers

#RevivetheSunnahofMiswaak

#RevivetheSunnahofEnteringtheToilet

#RevivetheSunnahofSpeakingGood

#RevivetheSunnahofUsingtheRighthand

FB/Instagram: @thejourneyingmuslimah

 

Desperate Mistakes

Apologies for the confusion. Am re-publishing the post since the notifications haven’t worked. Happy reading 🤍

Bismihi Ta’ala

Mohsina

Sometimes its easier not to reply. To not read those messages. Not to read into someone’s words. Not to have to explain to anyone. Not to blame ourselves, our timing or our lives.

But maybe it’s not so easy when you know some things could have been avoided. That you could have made it right, before you did it all wrong. That you wouldn’t have regretted, if you had just not made that mistake.

And as it turns out, sometimes you have to do the wrong thing. To falter. Sometimes you have to make a big mistake to figure out how to make things right. Mistakes are painful, but they’re the only way to find out how to make yourself better. Sometimes you have to err to become a better version of you. To repent. To return. And to find your way back to the beginning, to Allah, and to where you need to be to start all over again.

And okay, I know that my mistakes may have been a little stupid. There had been so many over a short period of time, and sometimes when I looked back I wondered if I had been sucked into some kind of Bermuda Triangle that was draining me of all common sense. Maybe I was a little over confident of my ability to be the kind of die-hard that I usually was. In normal situations, I was as solid as a rock, but when emotions were involved, I wasn’t quite sure how to draw barriers.

It had been a hectic day that was going to be a start to a rocky few months. When Layyanah had introduced me to her mother, I completely got why she wanted me to be there.

There we were, waiting nervously and in a bit of a frenzy as we worried about whether she would eat or not, whether she would stay for long or not, what to tell Liyaket or not, and all up in arms about how to deal with the situation that had kind of come out of the blue.

Firstly, the woman came in a Rolls Royce. (Can you believe it?) Her long hair was flying in the wind, and she wore a white slinky white suit, with huge sunglasses and high heels. She honestly looked like she stepped out of a Kardashian episode and I’m not even kidding. To tell the truth, aesthetically, the woman looked absolutely perfect, and even though she was probably in her 40’s, every guy who she walked past turned to look because she was that much of a show stopper.

But as she walked towards me and I greeted her Bruegel, there was something in her eyes that I couldn’t quite figure out. Yes, she was a beautiful woman but inside, under all those layers of expnsive perfume and make-up, I had myself wondering if she was really and truly happy. Somehow, when I looked through her, she resembled a shell of a person walking around.

She spoke informally, almost as if she was putting on a show. Her voice was a little higher-pitched than necessary and now that I could see her up-close, her eyelashes looked so layered that I wondered if they would fall off.

”So how’s married life, love?”

She smirked as she watched Layyanah after air kissing her on both sides of her cheeks, and then eyeing me out with a wink.

“At least I can say that my daughter married a C.A,” she said, shrugging and looking at me. Her accent was emphatic and put-on. Actually, it was more of a put-off. “Problem is, I don’t even have any snaps to show for it. I hope you took some decent wedding pictures at least, Layyanah. I have to show the girls that you didn’t get married in an Abaya. I mean, the dress is not Dior but I suppose it will do.”

Layyanah shook her head as her mother coaxed her to smile, and Liyaket sat obediently toward the back of the room, looking anxious to make an exit. His introduction had been brief and awkward, and I completely got why.

”Fay, please don’t take any pictures for Instagram,” Layyanah requested.

Fay? She called her mother Fay?!

Her mother waved her hand indifferently.

”It’s just a little bridal glamour,” she said, not looking at me yet. Of course, I was just the non-existent friends. I was grateful she didn’t know any more. “Stop having a heart attack.”

Layyanah pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes.

“Anyway, this place is so quaint!” Fay cooed, flipping her long hair and sitting back again as she put her phone down. “Not exactly my style, you know, but I suppose you can’t have no money and still have the best. You do know that, don’t you, hunny?”

Layyanah was silent. Liyaket excused himslef now, knowing that there really was nothing else for him to do after he showed himself for all of two minutes. If I was him, I would have done the exact same. Why should he stick around for the name-bashing?

Fay seemed completely oblivious.

“You know, I was telling your father,” she said excitedly. “Our anniversary is coming up and I’m itching to plan a function, love. Back then, our wedding was so basic. Better than this though, and it was cute and stuff, but not tasteful, you know? These functions I see online… They’re exquisite! Of course, we will have to see whats trending in three months time and I’m following all the right decor pages for tips. Okay, so maybe I had a 1000 people and a five course meal but now it’s fine up to seven courses and everything is individually plated. Let’s not forget the hand-made personalised favours that they’re giving guests that are something else completely. A dream wedding,  Layy, if only you just listened to us we could have given you everything you wanted…”

I kind of wanted to duck away but I couldn’t. It was just too sensitive.

“Everything I wanted?!” Layyanah cut in, raising her eyebrows. “Oh please Fay, it was everything you wanted. I was just going with the flow because there would have been a big performance if I didn’t agree!”

Woah. I didn’t realise that Layyanah could be so edgy, even to her own mother. I mean, it was still her mother, right? Surely there had to be some barriers there.

Her mother was unruffled. She looked like she was used to this.

”Layyanah darling,” she said. “You’re my daughter, I know exactly what you like.”

She said it so naturally and Layyanah was buying none of it.

“You have no idea!” Layyanah spat, her eyes flashing angrily. “All you want to do is waste money on stupid junk that no-one even cares about! And Daddy is even more stupid because he just dishes out to you as you want. Let’s just spend money on temporary dumb things even though people are starving in the world. You know why you guys are perfect together?! You both have no sense and no bloody conscience and I cant believe you still want to waste money on more bloody extravagance!”

Oh-Kay.

I was stunned into shock because Layyanah didn’t use the word ‘bloody’. She used another more vicious word that I only heard in some Netflix series. I was only grateful that Liyaket was gone so he didn’t see this side of her. He might have been a bit scarred.

And I completely got her point, but as I watched them go back and forth I realized that this whole dynamic was all skewed, and it kind of scared me.

Instead of Layyanah being petrified of her mother and the consequences (like I was at any given moment when my mother was around), she treated her like one of her casual friends. She spoke to her like she would speak to any girl from the office, maybe even a little looser. She even addressed her haphazardly by a nickname, with no respect. And the thing was, I was no expert on parenting and it was a far off notion for me (duh!), but I could see exactly where the problem was.

Some parents confuse parenting with being friendly, but they forget the most important thing.

Anyone can be a friend, but parents have a unique and important role that involves them ‘parenting’ first.  And yes, it was all Layyanah, my friend, but the fact was that Layyanah behaved this way because her parents never drew any boundaries. Speaking your mind was disrespectful when you spoke however you liked. Assertiveness is only okay when you don’t trample the rights of others. Especially your parents. The thing was, nowadays, bringing honour to those who brought you up was no longer a thing. Where once Muslim kids were admired for their manners, nowadays, they aren’t. Nowadays, they just gave crap and then recieved more in return.

Jibraeel (AS) said, “Inform me about the Hour.” He (the Prophet)(sallahu Alaihi Wa Sallam) said, “About that the one questioned knows no more than the questioner.” So, he said, “Well, inform me about its signs.” He said, “They are that the slave-girl will give birth to her mistress…”

Sahih Muslim (8)

And that was exactly what it looked like. Like a slave who was just being subjecting to whatever Layyanah was dishing out. She was giving it to her mother, with absolutely no reproach for what she said.

And as I sat there, reeling in shock, boy, was I glad when Layyanah finally said:

”We’ve already discussed this topic fifty million times over, so can we just drop it?!”

Layyanah was looking at her mother now, and I could see she that she had calmed down, which hopefully meant that the no more language and profanity were on the cards. Her mother shrugged and turned to me, and at that moment, I felt a teeny bit of sympathy for her. Just for a milli-second, and then it was gone.

The thing was, unfortunately,  there was no respect from either side, or even any kind of mothering. She didn’t offer her any useful advice or tell her how to take care of her husband, like I know my mother would do. She didn’t even give her any Duáas, like any normnal parent would.

Honestly, now all Layyanah looked like was defeated and teary and like she needed was a shoulder to lean on and someone talk to. Here her mother was, all focused on how to spend more money and be more extravagant.

I wasn’t even sure what to say, but Fay just gave an exasperated sigh and then turned to me, all smiles.

Oh gosh, was it my turn next?

“Why do I feel like I know you?” She asked, and my heart skipped a beat in my chest as she said it.

There we go. Probably from the photos that they sent the hitman.

I smiled sweetly, sticking out my hand, business style. Layyanah had introduced us briefly but not formally.

“I’m Mohsina,” I said pleasantly. I was used to putting on a front. “I’m a CA at Hammonds. Layy and I worked together.”

Well, that kind of impressed her, but she looked at me quizzically, and then suddenly, her eyes lit up,

“Oh my word,” she mused, her eyes getting wider. “Your’re the Mostly Mohsina, aren’t you?! Hey, I know you! Like I really know you! How’s your mother? And your sister? Oh yes, I remember that time when you guys went on that family holiday to the beach house on the west coast. It looked stunning! I keep telling Layys father that we need to take a holiday locally. Like, Ras Al Khaimah always blows us away, but maybe after Dubai we’ll try something local.”

Okay, so let me explain- so in all fairness, it wasn’t exactly a family holiday. It was a holiday of family, and I wasn’t exactly lying but social media was a tough world. It was just the wording that mattered. My father had gone with my mother and sister to visit some of his family at a beautiful villa, and the pictures were magically stunning. Private beaches and heated pools. The most unusual coral and white sandy shores. Of course, it was the perfect content to use for my weekend post. The thing is, you had to keep coming up with content to keep people interested. Don’t hate the player. That was the game.

“I feel like I’m your best friend,” she went on, clasping my hand and gazing at me in admiration. “And you’re like an influencer, right? Ive been following you for two years now and I lurrvv your feed!”

And of course, I was feeling all chuffed and excited that all my hard work wasn’t going to waste. I mean, that’s what it was all about right? Making an impression. Making sure that people remember you for all the fancy and unique things you post. It’s not about reality. No ways. It was a world that was as far away from reality than anything.

I just couldn’t understand why I was feeling so far from that world right then. it was like I had been disconnected from it, even if it was just for this little while.

And I was still trying to process my feelings while Layyanah tried to offer her mother something, but she was already talking about leaving because she didn’t want Layyanahs father to find out where she was.

I mean, even though she was superficial and extremely caught up, she was still a mother, and that’s why she had come.

And as my brain was still processing this very strange relationship, out of the blue, Jameela suddenly knocked on the door, excusing herslef and then knelt down next to me. Of course, Layyanahs mother seemed thrilled to see her, because she was my sister. I had a feeling like she felt that she really did know me, even when I had never met her before in real life. And okay, it was a teeny bit freaky. Jameela was looking confused as her mother gushed over her, and then she turned to me as her focus changed, kneeling down slightly, close to my ear.

“We need to leave,” Jameela said, her voice sounding a little more hysteric than usual. “Like right now.”

I turned to look at my sister, excusing myself from Layyanah as I noticed the panicked look on jameelas face. We did need to leave. The wind was starting to pick up significantly.

“What’s going on?” I hissed at her, pulling her away from the them as I excused myself and moved into a corner.

”We just have to leave,” she muttered, keeping her voice low. “I’ll explain later.”

“Where’s Muhammed Husayn?”

She shrugged.

“Someone said the shed at the front of the plot,” she said, not seeming too worried. “I tried looking for him, but as usual, I can’t find him and now I’m going to the car. I don’t care anymore! Let him stay here!”

Oh hell, now my brother was gone awol. He had probably got that guy to show him something old and historical and went to explore. Weird child. Typical teenager. Inconsiderate. As usual, I had to pick up the pieces because Jameela was pretty useless at everything besides planning coffee shops and wasting money.

I told Layyanah I’d see her soon, and even though her mother was leaving too, she held on to me a little longer than necessary, sounding both nervous and excited at that same time, as I left them to say their goodbyes.

And I was all excited and optimistic for my friend and this new chapter of her life, but I was also aware that it could also turn out horribly if she didn’t watch her back.

And if it all turned out okay, I would be eternally grateful. But for now, I had bigger things to sort out, like getting home.  I was all out for soaking up the sunset but my parents were already freaking out about us being home after dark and I knew it was time to leave.

And after heading off for the shed to look for my brother, my entire purpose in life was disrupted. All I did was follow the instructions and go toward the front of the plot (If I knew where that was). The problem was, it was so huge and vast, that instead of it being a short drive, it ended up being a half hour route on foot that brought me right back to where I started. I was positively fuming, wondering why the hell Muhammed Husayn was so irresponsible, when all I had to do was ask someone for help that I so desperately needed.

There were many things that may have been a cause, and set me off track. I was soaking in my glory, all chuffed by the recognition of my Instagram page that was apparently amazing (according to Fay), and probably set me off on a wrong foot from the beginning. Jameela was going bezerk on me because she was intent on leaving and I was getting all sorts of panicked because it was nearly Asr time and I knew that if I didn’t hurry up, timing in getting home would be a disaster. To top it off, there had been a cloud burst and I was all soaked and shivering to the extent that I was actually regretting even coming here on the first place.

And yes, I must have looked an utter state. And it was no wonder that I emerged all wet and terrrifying as I trudged up the bank to where my car was parked. I could see Hamzah in the distance but I wasn’t going to risk it the whole conversation out of work thing, especially when I looked like this. I wouldn’t have done it in any circumstance, and besides, it was against every rule of decency I had ever known.

And although I desperately tried to block my face, luck was just on my side that day. And no, I didn’t want to pass all the blame over, but I would have just walked straight ahead and tried calling Husayn for the 15th time that hour, but I was also tired and hungry and I just wanted to go home.

See, I knew about barriers. Walls. I always had them up. I was extra careful, especially  after Nani had been on my back about having too much of freedom. I took these things seriously. Yes, I wasn’t the best and I spoke where necessary, but I wasn’t that type. I wasn’t the type to just fall into traps. I was the type to avoid them all, but this one, I didn’t even see coming.

“Hey,” he said briefly, obviously noticing my strained face that I was desperately trying to hide. Yes, it was only Hamzah but I looked like a disheveled rag doll.

I expected some remark about Snapchat or Facebook as he watched me busy on my phone, trying to call my brother desperately, only to get no answer, but he didn’t have that usual attitude that he did at work. He looked calmer. Easy. Maybe the air here had smothered his annoying tendencies.

Or maybe he was probably just feeling sorry for me because I looked like a shipwreck.

”It’s okay,” I said, trying to appear composed when I wanted to cry. He actually looked like a completely foreign person now, in a dark kurta and slightly styled hair. At least someone here was looking normal. “I’m okay.”

He nodded, and then narrowed his eyes.

”You don’t look okay,” he said, and I looked at him. His eyebrows were raised questioningly. “You sure everything is okay? Is Lesley still around?”

“Lesley’s fine,” I snapped, a little faster than I intended. Of course I didn’t look fine. I had just been attacked violently by torrents of rain. Why did he have to rub it in?

Also, why did he have to bring Lesley into this? She was already on her prepaid Uber back home, and it was so unfair. All I wanted to do was find my brother and go home too.

And of course, now Hamzah was looking at me like I was some kind of kuku case. But honestly, there really was more to life than Lesley. And yes, I didn’t resent her, but I think I had enough of her for the entire week. The girl had really tested me that day.

He held his hands up, and I could immediately see that weird look in his eyes again.

“I was just checking,” he said defensively, but his voice didn’t sound like him. Well, not like the usual him. “I’m glad you sorted it out. See you.”

And I should’ve left it at that. I mean, there was no real harm done. But now I was feeling bad.

Why, I didn’t know.

And that was mistake number two.

Because no matter what, feelings and regret and whatever else was brewing, I knew that it wasn’t worth the risk of falling into sin. But sometimes, we’re just weak. Sometimes our minds are screaming for us to be a little rational, but our hearts are pulling us the complete opposite way.

No, it wasn’t okay. And yes, it had happened before. Being alone with him, even here in the open, even if I needed help. This wasn’t the same as it was before.

It was a desperate measure. Maybe a mistake that I didn’t even think much of, but would cost us so much more than I could ever imagine at the time.

”I’m sorry,” I called out, blowing my nose, because it was all snotty and runny due to the crazy weather and helluva emotions. His back was still to me as he paused, but didn’t turn around.

“Hamzah, wait. I need your help.”

---

Dear Readers,

Just a quick one to say that I always look forward to your comments. Any thoughts on Layyanah and what she may be getting into?

Always appreciate the input, it definitely gets the creative juices flowing. 🤍

much Love

A xx

Mission Sunnah Revival: the beautiful Sunnah of eating and licking fingers.

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

١٥ ربيع الأول ١٤٤٣
15th Rabee’ul Awwal 1443 – South Africa

22nd October 2021
Friday

رسول الله صلى الله تعالى عليه وسلم said:
If the morsel of any one of you fall, then he should pick it up, thereafter remove any dirt etc on it, and eat it. And he should not leave it (morsel), for satan.
And he should not wipe his hand, with a cloth, until he lick his fingers, for verily he doesn’t know, in which portion of his food, is the blessing (Barakah)

(Muslim Shareef)

If a morsel fall down, then we must not regard it as, reprehensible.
There’s great reward in picking up a morsel and eating it, regarding it a Sunnah.
If it’s not possible to eat it, then place it in such a place, where some animal can eat it.j

When Something Changes

Bismihi Ta’ala

Hamzah

Although the whiff of country air had sent my spirits soaring, the nagging sensation that had haunted me the entire week was still occupying my subconscious. I simply could not just ignore it.

”Liy, just tell me one more time,” I said, glancing at Liyaket, knowing that he was probably going to be high-five my face real soon. I mean, I had only asked him the very same question about seven times in the last hour.

But I just had to. Just one more time. I had to know if he was ready for this change.

“Are you absolutely sure that you are ready for this?”

He glanced at me for a minute, and then looked away. I was almost certain that I had seen a flicker of hesitancy in his eye but when I looked again, it was gone and Liyaket appeared once again as the awesome and confident guy that I had known since grade three.

“Only regret the chances you didn’t take, right?”

Each time was a different response, and I had to admire Liyaket’s charisma. I looked at him warily, unsure if he was serious or just spinning a line.

The changes were obvious. His face was now sporting a small but significant beard and his eyes were literally twinkling with optimism. That was Liyaket. Always looking at the brighter side of things. The complete opposite of me, but I supposed that’s why we were friends, right?

And it was precisely this that made me realize the truth of our earthly existence. Sometimes, in the midst of our lives, we do things that cause us to run away from Allah, and but through our repentance, we run in circles, finding ourselves right back at His doorstep once again. No matter how many times we break that connection, one hundred times over, we strive to rebuild it.

And some people have many turning points. Many moments of definition. Multiple points in their life where they will reach an amazing and significant change, and find themselves pacing back and forth, in the same directions. And then some people just had one amazing awakening, and they are absolutely and irrevocably altered.

And right then, well, right then… was a that irreversible  point for Liyaket. I didn’t realize it then, but in retrospect, the signs were as clear as day.

And it wasn’t only about the one event that entailed the Nikah. It wasn’t only about the marriage. It was so much deeper than that. It was a series of events that had led to this point, and that had reinforced for me that this was no coincidence and that a lot more was changing than just Liyakets relationship status.

Marriage, huh. It’s one of those turning points that I couldn’t quite figure out how you get to.

Like, at what point do you realize that you’re ready to spend forever (like really?) with one person and that’s that?

There was plenty of opportunity, so much to still discover. Well, that was what was screaming at us… calling for us… being drilled into us every day… at every avenue we take… whether it was the adverts we see, the crap we watch, or modernist articles we read.

We are constantly being taught that life is not just for the boring stuff. Why settle for what’s just normal?

And even when I found myself indulging a little more than I knew was okay, I knew that there was much that I was going to regret, but I just couldn’t seem to snap myself out of it. Sin is something like quick sand. Once you get stuck in it, it’s kind of hard to pull out. It’s sucks you in.. consuming you, holding onto you, almost like a parasite does to its host.

The thing was, around the time of Liyakets marriage, I wasn’t exactly the most amazing person. And who would have known it more than my best bud. Liyaket was eyeing my doubtful face as I sat next to him in my G-Star jeans and t-shirt in the passenger seat, before finally starting the car again.

We had made a quick stop at the service station and while Liyaket filled up, I restocked my cigarette stash. Since we were heading back to my home town, in the depths of Kwa-Zulu Natal, one of the greenest places I’ve ever been, I knew that the stall there didn’t stock the menthol brand I was after and I was going to have to do without them if I didn’t have enough.

“Bro, I think it’s time for me to give you some advice.”

I raised my eyebrows at Liyaket, taking the cigarette out from in between my lips and looked at him.

”I’m not sure if you qualify for that position as yet,” I replied with raised eyebrows, feeling around for my lighter in my pockets. I could never seem to hold on to one. I pulled the car lighter from Liyakets Yaris socket, lit it up silently as I pulled in deeply and exhaled, purposely leaving the window closed, just to annoy my best friend.

He shook his head at me.

“What’s that, number seventy -two?” He said, raising his eyebrows. “You want to kill yourself, don’t you?”

I shrugged.

I didn’t count. I’ve had way too much stress lately and he was the last one to judge. In fact, in all fairness, Liyaket was to blame for my undesirable state of mind. He should have been the last one to talk.

“Just keep your eyes on the damn road,” I muttered, suddenly annoyed at him as he chuckled at me.

I was just grateful that the suspension worked out for the best and lots of good had come out of it.

Liyaket had managed to secure an even better position at a better company and if that didn’t work out, Imraan was even prepared to take him on. How a plan was unfolding for him was simply amazing.

The corporate world was seeming less and less appealing to me as the truth of it was revealed to me that past week and the best part was that finally, Liyaket and Layyanah were tying the knot. The Nikah was one hour away and for someone who was getting married shortly, Liyaket was amazingly calm.

Hell, I wished that I could be as cool as him in my normal state.

I was enjoying the peace but I knew the silence wouldn’t last.

“So who was that chic?” Liyaket asked and I knew that he was talking about the girl I had seen at the shop. I could see him watching me through the glass windows.

The thing was, that girl wasn’t my type, but Liyaket wouldn’t believe me. He wouldn’t believe it if I told him that all I was doing was standing innocently in the line while someone was talking about the best flavour of Doritos to buy for Nachos, and next thing I heard was:

”So, you may know me,” a voice said, and I turned to look at a shortish and semi-pretty girl who was talking behind me. “In case you wondering how I know about all this stuff, I’m Foodie Fantasy.”

At first, I couldn’t figure out whether she was talking to me or not. The girl who was behind us nodded, and then I realised that it was my turn to acknowledge her.

Foodie fantasy? Why did it sound dodge? I looked around the place, but I was still confused.

Obviously, seeing the bewildered look on my face, she felt the need to elaborate.

“My handle,” she said, looking directly at me now, and I frowned. “Underscore and double E. I have like, 35k followers, and I’ve travelled to 18 different countries to review their cuisines. You must have heard of me.”

Ah. Lightbulb. Instagram. @foodie_fantasee. Right?

I nodded, not trusting myself to say anymore. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to know this stuff. Was I living in an age where insta-likes meant more than actual people liking you?

Is life nowadays only based only on virtual reality?

The other girl tried to look interested but I could see that she was just as confused as me. She probably hadn’t heard of her either. Do people who have big followings think they’re celebrities?

And then all I could think was; Hell. Life will never be the same again.

Every decade that passed was like I was entering a new world. The fact that someone felt it was okay to introduce themselves by their Instagram name, well, I was absolutely floored. It was a first but I knew it wasn’t going to be a last. Now that, my friends, is why I feel like I should not have been born in this crazy era.

I didn’t tell Liyaket yet. I knew I would save this tale for later when all the excitement was over. It would be a good one to tell, with extra expression. Also, it was all his fault because my cigarette consumption wouldn’t have been at this point if the guy hadn’t put me through so much of stress lately with regard to his alleged romancing.

”Just FYI,” I said casually. “I’m a friendly guy, but I know where to draw the line. Unlike some people in this car who get lovestruck and starry-eyed at first sight.”

Liyaket snorted with laughter, as if it was the funniest thing he heard the entire day.

“So you trying to tell me that I’m backward because I want to settle down now?”

“With the first girl that you gave time of daylight to,”I retorted, shaking my head. “Like, couldn’t you at least find done that was less maintenance? All this admin is killing me.”

It was true. Liyaket was a good guy. Too good. Hard worker. Five times a day at the mosque. Good to everyone he met. And then bam. This pretty but baggage-ridden girl comes along, out of the blue, and then there’s trouble.

And I knew I wanted him to make Nikah but Liyaket had a knack of making me eat my words.

Running away. Hiding out. It wasn’t exactly an ideal situation. This kind of Nikah was super stressful.

“When you know, you know,” was all he said, and it was his turn to look straight ahead now as he drove, and I knew it was time for me to stop talking.

Liyaket would never say anything to rattle me, but I couldn’t help but wonder: Had I possibly crossed the line by saying Layyanah was high maintenance?

I knew he was a CA but things don’t happen over night. He still had to establish himself, make a name, gain his experience.

To tell the truth, maybe I had said too much but the day had been stressful.

It was an hour left and I was so glad that this day was going to be  over soon.

We were just two minutes away from the entrance of our old holding. We would be passing it to get to the mosque down the road.

I had opened my window and the intense scent of damp moss and grassy plains was almost intoxicating. It took a moment before I realised that I had missed this immensely. Maybe even more than I thought.

It was here where Imraan was moving back to, and there was a stab of jealousy as I imagined him setting up office in this place. It was a home away from home that we all knew and missed, especially when we came back to taste it’s sweetness.

It was for this reason that we decided that this was the best solution to the problem that Liyaket was facing. He needed somewhere quiet and peaceful and away from home to have a Nikah and this was the perfect getaway. It was low profile and as far as possible from  Jo’burg.

Listen,” he said as we slowed down, taking it all in for now. I looked at him, seeing the seriousness that he was conveying as he spoke.

“I know maybe it’s not the right time,” he continued. “But you my best guy, and I know that at some stage, you gonna get tired of running after the world. Think of the possibilities. There’s so much more out there then pointless pursuing and chasing the world. At some point, the new gets old. The novelty gets boring. Even work and those girls who make the place so exciting… well, they’ll move on and find other conquests and if you don’t wake up soon, you’ll be stuck on a broken train.”

I frowned slightly, not liking how he was pointing out my flaws all at once.

“Im just saying bro,” he said softly, showing that he had my best interests at heart. “When you wake up and decide to get serious, let me tell Layyanah to find you a nice girl. And I promise you- I’ll make sure she’s not high maintenance.”

He gave a wry smile and I cringed inwardly. So, he had taken offense. Just a bit. But sometimes, I had to say it as it was.

High maintenance was okay when it was just for kicks. But once it became high maintenance that you had to fit the bill for, well, then it wasn’t so fun. And despite everything that had happened in the past week, drama and all, my ultimate hope was that Liyaket was not going into this blindly. The truth was, even if he was, there was not much left to do now. Cars were already pulling into the Masjid and the time for his Nikah was scheduled to be just before the Jumuah Salaah. Even if he was having second thoughts, well, it was too late to turn back now.

“You sure you want to do this?” I asked him now, knowing I was bordering on crazy but still not understanding how we had got to this point.

I couldn’t imagine how he must be feeling. Knowing his life, his finances and relationship status would change in under an hour. Ah well, it was a helluva big thing but Liyaket was taking it on his stride.

We had reached the destination Mosque, and as I glanced at it wistfully as my mind filled with snippets of the past. It seemed so comforting back then. Hearing the Adhaan bellowing from the speakers in the midst of those sunny days.  Running down from the top of the grassy hill. Sliding on the sandy bank nearby with cardboard boxes, just for kicks…

There were so many good memories that I had back then, when life was so much simpler, and the concept of money and making a name for myself hardly mattered. I recalled running around freely in the yard as a kid, chatting jovially the older men who came there regularly. As I got older, the mosque morphed from my playground to my refuge and the one thing I could always come back to no matter what or who was going down on my life.. but recently, caught up in working in Jo’burg, and the materialistic side of things, I had lost my connection with it. I hadn’t been home in months, and maybe I was making excuses… but Jo’burg scenes for me didn’t quite have that same homeliness.

Being back here though, where I was brought up, away from the beckoning of city life and all its materialistic perks, was awakening something within me.

The air was crisp and every breath escaped my lips now felt lighter and lighter. It felt as if, one by one, all the worries of the past few months away were shedding itself, reviving a new me, and evoking a feeling of freedom that had once been so familiar to me. Something deep within was changing too.

And as I straightened  my hat and pulled on my Friday attire, though I knew that this day was going to be a huge event for Liyaket, what I didn’t realize was that this was the onset of what was probably going to transform my life significantly too.

---

 

Mission Sunnah Revival!

The beautiful Sunnah of using the right hand.

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

 

Hazrat Hafsah
رضى الله تعالى عنها
narrates:
رسول الله صلى الله تعالى عليه وسلم would use his right hand for eating, drinking and wearing his clothes, and his left hand for some other tasks

(Aboo Daawood Shareef)

An amazing quality to inculcate into our lives…

#RevivetheSunnahofMiswaak

#RevivetheSunnahofEnteringtheToilet

#RevivetheSunnahofSpeakingGood

#RevivetheSunnahofUsingtheRighthand

FB/Instagram: @thejourneyingmuslimah

 

 

Part 3: Chartered Changes

 

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Bismihi Ta’ala

Mohsina

Being a woman in a male-dominated workplace is tough. Being a Muslim girl in the workplace is that much more challenging.

Often times I felt myself over over compensating. Going the extra mile. Making sure I never stepped out of line.

I supposed that’s why I was always watching my back. I wanted to be successful and I wanted this to work out. More than anything, that was my focus right now.

I turned to see Mickey (his real name was Mikael) approach and I let myself breathe a sigh of relief. Just another one of us. But just as well, the fun was over for this trip. It was time we headed back.

But wait. One more snap, before I left. I flipped the camera to face me, smiling widely as I tried to keep my scarf in place with the unruly wind. Perfect.

Now to post.

@mostlymohsina (my main Instagram handle and page) had approximately 6327 followers (well, the last time I checked which was about 2 minutes ago).

There were new follow requests every day though. Many were ex-students from the high school I attended, while others were people I had met along the way. I knew people spoke about my ventures. I had a knack of making simple things look super thrilling. That’s what social media was about though, wasn’t it?

Of course, then there were the few odd followers who I had no idea of who they were, but nonetheless, they were followers of my (seemingly) iconic lifestyle and I had to keep the game on for them. Things out there weren’t easy on the social media platform either. It was savage and it sucked you in, but I was already too far in to ever back out of it. In a way, it was my refuge too. When I was alone at night, it’s what kept me focused.

Ah yes, it was hard work. Keeping the posts and keeping people engaged. Sometimes a little drama was needed, just to create a new following and keep current followers hooked too.

Of course, I had to show the girls back home how amazing the corporate world was. Especially those who were probably sitting at home with a kid, browsing though social media, waiting for their husbands to come home. I couldn’t imagine that kind of life, to be honest. Maybe it suited other people, but it was far from what I had ever wanted for myself.

I was one of the lucky ones who had made it this far and I had to make it known.

The problem was, not everyone shared my sentiments.When I had expressed my views to Ma one day, she just gave me a:

”If Allah is happy with you then who else you have to impress?”

Pfft, as if it was so simple.

But she didn’t know. She didn’t know that the whole world was watching your every move, waiting for something in your life to go wrong just so that they could point a finger at you and blame it on your choices.

I turned my attend to Mickey who was gesturing for us to follow him. Hamzah wasn’t even bothered. The wind was blowing so fiercely right now that I had to shut my eyes. Why was the Cape always this windy?

Honestly, this was just doing sabotage to my impeccable hijab look.

”Come ON!” I urged Hamzah, getting impatient. If he didn’t follow I was prepared to leave the annoying sod to catch it from Faadil. I didn’t want to risk getting into trouble. “We need to make it before the bus leaves.”

“You mean, before bossman comes and hounds us for having a little fun when we’re allowed to?” Hamzah asked with a raised eyebrow, clearly knowing where my thoughts were as he caught me eyeing the time. 

I rolled my eyes at him. 

“Come on, Mos, don’t be such a suck up,” he moaned, turning to glance at me. “Get into trouble now and then. Besides, the guy needs to remove that carrot from up his behind.”

I rolled my eyes at him.

Okay, I’ll admit it. Faadil was a bit extreme with his bordering on oppressive manner and no-bullshit regime, but Hamzah had absolutely no respect for rules. None at all.

Although the two of them barely got along, there was no denying that the one thing that had gotten him selected for this trip was his genius auditing skills and ability to pink out errors in record time. He really was better than any one of us here, but he was too busy being a wisecrack to admit it. Of course, Faadil wouldn’t admit how valuable Hamzah was to the team either, because Hamzah just had a way of getting under people’s skin. And not in a good way.

I grabbed my backpack and slung it over my shoulder, ready to leave, not tolerating Hamzah’s nonchalant attitude. Work was work whether he liked it or not. 

I turned to look behind me as I heard other voices with Mikael’s, hoping the Liyaket and Layyanah would come back soon from their little escapade.

Oh yes, let me just give you the low down regarding them. FYI, those two are obsessed with each other but I really hoped that they’d see sense and break it off with no strings attached before it was too late.

The fact was that though they looked cute in theory, the painful facts were that while Liyaket Khan was a hard working and motivated guy from a small town who was out to make it for himself, Layyanah was a typical rich and spoilt Jo’burg girl from HR who had paid to come on this trip just so she could be with him. And though we got along and being with him was somehow bringing her down to earth, I didn’t want to be the one to break it to either of them.

Besides the fact that I knew that they would never work long term, I really didn’t have the energy to worry about their forbidden romance. As I said, my focus here was on the work. I wasn’t here for the drama. 

I trudged along, hearing Hamzah talking to the other group members behind us now, taking some time to clear my head for the work day. It was time I focused and got my head back into the auditing game.

It was obvious that Layyanah’s parents would never approve of him, and that was why she was sneaking around seeing him- but Layyanah was the type of girl who was used to getting her way. Besides her being spoilt rotten, I sincerely loved this girl and the last thing I wanted to see was any of them hurt. 

I sighed as I shielded my eyes from the sun, not seeing either of them nor hearing Hamzah come up behind me, sandals in hand as he adjusted his cap with the other hand. 

“Don’t worry about the two love birds,” he said bluntly, walking ahead of me speedily as I fell behind. The others were far behind and showed no sign of hurrying up. “They’ll find their way back before bossman notices.”

“Hey!” I shouted, running after him as he sped up, overtaking me so he’d be the first back. The conniving rat! I gritted my teeth as I tried to beat him back, whilst trying to look poised at the same time. It was impossible.

Oh well, I thought to myself, glancing back once more for my friend who was still awol. I was getting late. I suppose the two love birds would have to find their way back on their own. As always, I had to worry about myself. I mean, no one else was looking out for me.

Little did I know, this was about to change much sooner than expected. Not too far in the future there would be a wake up call that would change much more than just the way I thought.

---

Dear Readers

This new theme and story line is pretty experimental so please bear with errors or anything that may be offensive.

Obviously there will be great lessons to learn. I would also like to go into Sunnah revival, so if anyone would like any particular Sunnah to be mentioned, let me know, or we can start with the basics and work from there? I’m still struggling to balance my time and since posts may be a bit longer in future, I was thinking I can do just one a week. Or two shorter ones.

Comments and thoughts are always welcome. ❤️

Much love

A xx

A Warrior at Heart

Bismihi Ta’ala

Khawlah

I’ve never been much for old sayings, but there is one old saying that I quite liked and it goes something like this: ‘A vessel can only pour out from what it contains.’

As we grow older, there comes a time in life when we have to stop and check ourselves. The state of our hearts. Our strengths. Our weaknesses and ill feelings. How Allah gives favours to some and maybe not give us the same. We come to understand that what’s come for us would have never missed us, and what’s missed us would have never come for us.

You see, some people have a naturally optimistic disposition. They can sieve the good out in every situation because they have either trained themselves hard to be optimistic, or are inherently blessed with love and light. Some people are just warriors at heart.

To want goodness for someone else, despite where their lives are at, is the epitome of excellence… And sometimes, it’s that very attitude that gets them to the greatest heights.

“You have it,” I said to Zuleikha, passing her the pretty white gold bracelet that I had slipped over my arm. “It’s not really my taste.”

Zuleikha looked at me skeptically, her amber eyes narrowing. I wasn’t exactly lying.

”I can’t,” she said, shaking her head and handing it back to me. “It was Mama’s favorite. You keep it.”

”Listen,” I said, folding my arms over my chest. “I barely even remember her wearing it. You do. Just take it.”

Zuleikha sighed and slid the bracelet over her wrist. Her lean arms donned it perfectly.

”See,” I said softly, holding back emotion. “Suits you better.”

It was so beautiful but I truly wanted her to have it. I couldn’t help the tears that had welled up in my eyes as I watched her. Her slender arm was exactly like Mama’s.

”Then you have this,” she said, pointing to the charmed yellow gold bracelet that was still in the box.

I shook my head.

“Come on,” she urged. “Stop being such a hard nut.”

I knew I wasn’t going to give in. Instead, I placed my hand inside the box, pulling out the chain that I had spotted earlier with a pendant that boasted a blue sparkly stone. Whether it was real or not didn’t faze me. All I knew was that Mama used to often stand by the window and watch us, and as I would often gaze up at her, this little stone would be twinkling in the sunlight.

”I’m just taking this,” I said, smiling as the light reflected off the stone.

”We’ll keep some aside for Rubeena,” Zuleikha said wisely. “Mama would have liked that.

“She would have,” I said quietly.

“And Yunus’s wife,” she added, almost as an afterthought.

“You think?” I asked curiously. Yunus was still my baby brother. For him to have a wife was weird.

”it might be sooner than you expect,” Zuleikha said mysteriously.

Did she know something about Yunus that I didn’t?

”Maybe we get the value and do it properly,” I suggested, shrugging the insinuation about Yunus off.

”You’re right,” she said, shuffling through the other items.

The red box was an awakening from reality for us, slipping us momentarily into the past. Ahmed had found it hidden deep in one of the upstairs cupboards this morning and immediately called Zuleikha and I to sort it out.

”That’s all I want,” I said, holding onto the pendant and pushing the red box back to Zuleikha. “And of course, some of the mini furniture.”

”Take all the furniture,” she insisted, picking out the tiny pieces that she could see. “Khadijah will love it. I don’t have a daughter who can make use of it…”

There was a certain sadness in her voice as she said it. Zuleikha, after everything she had been though had finally settled into a peaceful and contented place where she and Jameel were at, but it was no secret to anyone that Zuleikha and Jameel were battling to have another child. I prayed so hard that they would, but Allah alone knew what was in her plan. I was just glad that she was content with her life as it was. It was lovely to see my sister happy, after everything. It had taken a long time but it was well worth the wait.

”Are you sure?” I asked her, running my finger along the carved lines of the corners of the mini pieces, quite impressed by the detail that it boasted.

Zuleikha nodded.

”It got you into enough trouble, didn’t it?” She said with a smile. “I think you earned it.”

Ah yes, it did.

I still remembered the day I had lunged at Hannah, completely appalled by her possession of my mothers gift to us. I had broken me. Those days seemed like so long ago.

”The punishment was torturous,” I said quietly, biting my lip and feeling for the little girl who I had once been.

”The only thing you would do is ask me if Khalid was as back yet,” Zuleikha said, breaking the  rolling her eyes and laughing. “You were pretty obsessed with that boy, weren’t you?”

I pursed my lips and smiled back. I was, wasn’t I?

”I wasn’t,” I said with a grin.

“Don’t pretend,” she said, shaking her head at me. “And he was too, you know.”

She didn’t say anything further. Zuleikha knew when to draw the line.

I looked at my sister, draped in a pretty lacey hijab, feeling at peace with how content she looked today.

Yunus had gone to see Khalid and mentioned the new occupant from Egypt. He had heard Aunty Radiyyah and her talking in the next room. Khalid, however didn’t offer any information.

“There’s a lady with them,” Yunus had said in passing, and I looked at him in confusion.

”A lady?”

Of course, the question flew right over Yunus’s head.

Now, though, with the return of Khalid and this new lady that Yunus had mentioned, a lot was clear to me. I had put two and two together.

It was possible now that his father had the accident, a turn of events would mean that he was preparing to stay here with her. Presumably his wife. Whoever she was.

“And you’re okay with that?” Zuleikha said, looking at me openly. “Even after everything you had told me last week?”

“Of course,” I said. “I wish him all the happiness in the world.”

”You’re so confusing…” she murmured, shaking her head.

Zuleikha had heard about the beautiful purple house last week from Nusaybah, and obviously had jumped to my imaginative friends theories.

I, however, had adopted a new approach to life. I didn’t want to dwell on last week. I didn’t want to dwell on what had happened and what could have been. Even after Yunus had revealed what he knew and even after I had toyed with all the possibilities.

Yes, I had maybe been a little too ambitious in my thinking after Nusaybah had left. I had felt lonely and a little confused after seeing the purple house again. When Yunus had relayed to me that Khalid had been rescuing the kittens from under the purple house for the old lady that had lived there, and struck up a relationship with her, I had sort of understood what had happened all those years ago, but it was the recent updates that had confused me. Despite Yunus saying that Khalid was probably responsible for the beauty of the garden too, I didn’t dwell on it. After him being gone for so long, part of my mind didn’t want to believe it. Maybe I was in denial. I had put through the offer for the house and hoped for the best.

And just when I was about to clarify any misconceptions that Zuleikha had, it was at that precise point when Yunus, Ahmed and his family came in, entering the lounge in their enormous glory.

”We’re back,” he said to us.

Like we couldn’t hear them from outside.

“Are you’ll nearly done?”

The way my brother was avoiding eye contact was amusing. He knew that it would be an emotional task, sorting out Mama’s things, and he had made himself extremely scarce. He didn’t know that this had brought on other kind of emotional.

”How are you coping, Ruby?” Zuleikha asked, smiling at them. It did amuse me to think that their family size would be significantly increasing in the next few months.

“I can only blame Ahmed,” she had said with a grin. “I mean, this never happened to me before.”

I smiled. I was really happy for them. I had so wished that they would have their own. I knew my brother wasn’t always set on it, because he wasn’t exactly the ‘baby-crazy’ type but seeing him with Khadijah wasn’t exactly bad to watch.

Ahmed smirked and shrugged as we looked at him.

”It never happened to me before either,” he said offhandedly.

Zuleikha laughed and shook her head. After the initial shock of it all, it was good to joke about it. It had been a while since I had to see them and I was glad that I did. The house was always buzzing with excitement and now that the babies were on the way, somehow, the feels were even more jolly.

”So are you excited about the babies?” Zuleikha asked Danyaal.

Danyaal nodded at Zuleikha shyly and then looked away. Of course he was excited. I could remember how thrilled he was when Khadijah was born. after Aadam passed away, he had become so subdued. He was, after all, very close to him… but the strange part was that as he grew up now his features were maturing and he was obviously beginning to look more and more like his uncle. As he grew he was also losing that baby-ness that I so loved about him. It was strangely sentimental for me, seeing these kids growing up now. I wasn’t sure if I liked it.

He put his hat on his head again as he turned around to leave. Ahmed was going for namaaz and had called the two bigger boys to join him.

”I’m not excited,” Dayyaan said pulling a face. “Babies. Ugh.”

Rubeena shook her head but ignored him. Dayyaan wasn’t impressed with much these days. Except motor-bikes and fast cars.

”Dayyaan, Salaah,” Ahmed said sternly, raising his eyebrows at my nephew.

”Aw man,” he squealed. “Can’t I skip? I just came back. Dad doesn’t go. Can’t I just go and live with him?”

Ahmed looked at Rubeena and she turned her gaze to her second son. I had often noticed how Ahmed would voluntarily assist with the other kids, even when it came to discipline, but left Dayyaan for his mother to handle. He was, unquestionably, the most troubled of the lot and I didn’t blame him. He was somewhat of his father’s son and I could see that there were times when Ahmed just didn’t know how to handle him. Besides, I knew from past experience that dealing with Dayyaan and not giving into him could have disastrous consequences.

Rubeena got up from the couch, leaning down as steadily as her slightly protruding tummy allowed her, and looked him in the eye.

“Don’t you think that Allah will love you so much more when you make Him happy?” She asked him sweetly.

It wasn’t magical but it had the desired effect. The thing was, sometimes we take for granted our kids perception. We forget that Allah is watching over us with love, yet we still sometimes build them up with fear. We forget that sometimes we have to be their warriors… reminding them about all the love that Allah promises us if only we obey him.
The truth was that even as we go along, Allah is nudging us with love. Helping us along. Giving us hope to continue, not making us learn only through fear. How we build our kids is dependent on us.

Dayyaan hastily put his shoes on and skipped out after his brother and I could see Rubeena and Ahmed exchange a look as they watched him.

Parenting was something I’d always done on my own, but it was interesting to see this. I often wondered how Aadam would have handled Khadijah and her quirky comebacks. She was much like him, but I had a feeling that two of them together would have driven me crazy, in a completely love-to-be-driven-crazy way.

The other three boys were already running outside again, and Khadijah was pottering around with her little bag, playing on her own. Sometimes she did get tired of the boys. I was desperately wanting Rubeena to at least one little girl, so my daughter could have a friend.

I sighed as I left the room, still thinking about the boy’s and how their life had changed over the past few years. In some ways I really could relate to them, yet I was so glad that they hadn’t had the unfortunate experience of a terrible step-parent. I halted as I saw Yunus pulling on his jacket at the front entrance hall, looking like he was way out too.

“Where are you off to?” I asked Yunus. “Also for Salaah?”

“I went for early Salaah,” he said. “I need to make a stop for Faheem before I head home.”

“Can I join?” I asked. I was hoping to drill him about the hints that Zuleikha had mentioned.

“Of course,” he said, grabbing his keys as I greeted Rubeena and the lot. Khadijah had decided that she was having too much fun to leave, so I knew that I would have no choice but to leave her with Zuleikha for a few more hours.

Yunus, though pleasant and sweet, was not exactly the expressive type, so I knew that I’d have to do a little bit of prodding if I had to find out about this girl Zuleikha had thought was nearly a part of our family.

”So Yunus,” I said, clicking in my seat belt as he started the ignition. “How old are you again?”

Yunus looked at me weirdly.

Okay, I was being a bit weird.

”Twenty,” he said, frowning at me slightly as he backed out the driveway.

”Good age,” I said stupidly.

Ugh. This wasn’t going well.

”Yeah it is,” he added. “I’m stopping to fetch a USB from down the road. That okay?”

I didn’t ask him what down the road was. I just nodded. I was onto something and I needed to get it out of him.

”You ever thought of marriage?” I asked him, knowing that there was no other way to ask this.

Yunus shrugged.

”I have,” he said, slightly reservedly. “But not seriously.”

”Why not?” I pressed, wondering what Zuleikha was talking about. He didn’t seem keen on the prospect. At all.

“I don’t know,” he said offhandedly. “Taqdeer. When the time is right, it will happen I suppose.”

“Ah,” I said. He was obviously not serious about it was yet. But it didn’t mean that there was nothing to tell. “Are you interested in seeing girls?”

”You seem more interested in them than me,” Yunus said, a smile on his face as he met my gaze. I knew that I was being tiring.

“I’m just asking,” I said, deciding that I’d rather drop it now. I’m sure Yunus would tell me in his own time. If there was anything to tell. “I just want to see you happy. All settled.”

Zukeikha and Ahmed were pretty much settled and content. Somehow, I felt like a mother to my little brother. As always, I felt responsible for him.

Yunus was indicating and slowing down at Aunty Radiyyah’s house.

“You’re worrying about everyone else, Khawlah,” he murmured. “What about you?”

”I’m fine the way I am,” I said hastily.

”Im happy too. But’s lets make a deal,” he conceded. “When you settle down, I’ll think about it too.”

”Oh goodness, Yunus,” I exclaimed, throwing my hands up in the air. “I’ve already been there! The topic is exhausted. There’s nothing more I can give.”

”I know you’re a warrior at heart,” he said. “But do you really keep fighting your feelings all the time?”

”I’ve told you everything I know,” he said, turning to me. “By now, you should have been completely convinced. Your life may have turned out differently but why don’t you get it? He never forgot you. Khalid never forgot you.”

I could not believe that Yunus, of all people was bringing this up.

”Khalid’s not interested,” I said obviously with a sigh.

”Ah,” Yunus said with raised eyebrows. “After everything you still say so. But what about you?”

“What about me?!” I moaned. What did I do?

“Maybe he was and you scared him away!” Yunus chuckled. “You know how you can be.”

”Yunus, are you delusional?!” I scoffed, shaking my head. “Remember the lady? You said that there’s a lady with them…”

”Awh Khawlah,” he said softly. “I didn’t say who she was.”

Oh no. I did feel a bit stupid.

He was right. He didn’t say. Then who was she?

We were parked outside Aunty Radiyyah’s house now and my heart was beating crazily in my chest. I was immune to the beauty of the front garden today, as I wished with all my might that I could somehow have a quick escape. What exactly was he saying?

And why on earth were we here again?

“You coming in with me or what?” He asked softly. Yunus was always so soft. Easy. Diplomatic.

“What?” I asked, blinking stupidly.

“To see Aunty Radiyyah?”

Oh yes. Of course. I thought he was suggesting something else. Silly me.

There were so many questions that I had on my mind. About the purple house. About the lady who lived there. About how it ended up the way it was. If Khalid really made it as beautiful as it was.
Even if he was, was it really that terrible? My mind was running away with me.

Why was I always such a fierce warrior? Why was my heart so unwavering? Why did I always have to fight anything that was staring me in the face? 

“She was asking about you,” he said. “She’s been busy. Khalids father’s leg is broken pretty badly.”

I immediately softened as I zoned back to the present. I could imagine that  must have been really sore. I wished that I had called her to check if she needed anything before this. How could I be so selfish?

We walked up the path slowly, not fully comprehending everything that had unfolded. Yunus quietly slipped away through the side gate while I continued up the stairs, already spotting a smiling aunty Radiyyah as she opened the door.

Oh, how I missed her.

Her arms were already outstretched as I dissolved into them, savoring the familiarity that I had known since I was just a little girl. I was almost lost in a turbulence of emotion as I held onto her, now, more than ever, so confused about everything and wanting pour it all out.

Did Aunty Radiyyah know what was on my mind? All these years had passed… why didn’t she tell me about Khalid? Why didn’t she tell me the truth?

I smiled at her, concealing the pain as she let go, not realizing that tears had filled my eyes until she brushed them away.

“It’s so good to see you here,” she whispered, squeezing my shoulder as I smiled up at her. “My beautiful Khawlah.”

”Jedda,” Aunty Radiyyah called. “We’ve got a visitor.”

The hair visible at the front of her scarf was only slightly grey and the crinkles at the corners of her pretty eyes were exactly like Aunty Radiyyah’s. They’re was no longer question of who she was.

I watched as as a woman entered the room, poised and elegant as she walked forward, a little slower than most would, with the hint of a smile on her face.

”Wait, let me guess,” she said, her Arab accent pungent as she smiled a bit more widely. “This is Khawlah.”

She said my name wonderfully. There was actually no doubt in her tone as she said it. It was as if, by some default, she knew exactly who I was, despite us never setting eyes on each other ever before.

She came up to me, gazing at me with tears in her eyes as she pulled me into a fervent embrace, very much like my dear Aunty Radiyyah’s. It was achingly familiar.

”It’s so good to meet you,” she murmured. Maybe it was her accent. Or maybe it was her words… but her voice was strangely comforting. “I’ve heard all about you.”

---

Virtues of the ten days we are in. If we haven’t made extra efforts, let’s start now InshaAllah!
The Prophet (PBUH) said, “There is no deed that is better in the sight of Allah or more greatly rewarded than a good deed done in the (first) ten days of Al-Adha”. It was asked, “Not even Jihad for the sake of Allah?” The Prophet (PBUH) replied, “Not even Jihad for the sake of Allah, unless a man goes out himself for Jihad taking his wealth with him and does not come back with anything.” Narrated by Al-Bukhari

Sunnah of Du’aa after Salaah: One of the Sunnah of asking Allah is never to be despondent of Allah’s mercy. Remember that He is always listening and waiting to answer our prayer.

Messenger of Allah said that Allah the Exalted had said: “I have divided the prayer into two halves between Me and My servant, and My servant will receive what he asks. When the servant says: Praise be to Allah, the Lord of the universe, Allah the Most High says: My servant has praised Me. And when he (the servant) says: The Most Compassionate, the Merciful, Allah the Most High says: My servant has lauded Me. And when he (the servant) says: Master of the Day of judgment, He remarks: My servant has entrusted (his affairs) to Me. And when he (the worshipper) says: You alone we worship and of You alone do we ask help, He (Allah) says: This is between Me and My servant, and My servant will receive what he asks for. Then, when he (the worshipper) says: Guide us to the straight path, the path of those to whom You has been Gracious not of those who have incurred Your displeasure, nor of those who have gone astray, He (Allah) says: This is for My servant, and My servant will receive what he asks for.” [Sahih Muslim]

Lots and lots of Duaas. Let’s focus on trying to bring Du’aa into our daily lives…

How easy to practice …

#revivetheSunnahofHonouringElders

#revivetheSunnahofGiving

#revivetheSunnahofMiswaak 

#revivetheSunnahofAkhlaaq 

#revivetheSunnahofKinship

#revivetheSunnahofhonouringguests

#revivetheSunnahofdrinkingwater 

#revivetheSunnahofeating 

#revivetheSunnahDuaas

#revivetheSunnahDuaa

Twitter: @ajourneyjournal

#revivetheSunnahofhonouringguests

#revivetheSunnahofdrinkingwater 

#revivetheSunnahofeating 

#revivetheSunnahDuaas

And the Plot Thickens Again…

Bismihi Ta’ala

Khawlah

Memories are a funny thing. It’s quite amazing though… how the mind works. The things you can’t seem to remember, yet the things you just can’t seem to forget. But with memories… and remnants of our somewhat illusive minds… there comes a beautiful reminder about time. About life. About loss. Just like how childhood, and beauty and new life come to evolve… a new existence, a new world in which much will be born… will also come to die. Our problem is that we become enslaved to the moments that have gone by, enslaved to old worlds that have already passed away.

But in reality, more than a thousand times a day, we are born. With a new hope. To start again, to start afresh. Yet many of us choose to just let ourselves die again and again, as each new moment fades. We forget that each birth is a new opportunity to start over, to turn around, or to keep going. To accept. To seek forgiveness, To overcome, to heal, to rise again.

Because when you’re a believer, you see things from an entirely different perspective. Every test is a blessing. Every situation is a means for reformation. For others, death is the end. For us, death is just the beginning. Just as childhood and beginnings and life come to pass… the pain and the hurt also do. Sometimes we just get a little caught up that we forget the point of our existence is to keep returning to the One who reminds us that we still have a chance at a new beginning… That every new discovery is a great opportunity to turn to Allah and start again.

Of course, right then, as I processed this turn of events, I did see it from a different perspective. It would be a new beginning. A new start. Somehow, this too would bring a new realization that I did not yet see coming.

Right then, I was a little caught up in the present. My heart soared as Nusaybah had broken the news that my cousin had gotten a post for internship with immediate effect in the city, and they were serious about settling here. Of course, I was over the moon. Astounded by Allah’s mercy. I could barely believe that I wouldn’t really have to say goodbye…

”You wouldn’t have believed me otherwise, huh?”

Nusaybah was grinning widely as she watched me,  and I could already feel the corners of my eyes dampen as I thought of how lucky I was. My friend wasn’t leaving me. She wasn’t leaving. It was something that I had been so scared about, but now all my fears were put to rest when she had shown me the two apartments that they were looking at renting.

”They’re absolutely lovely,” I said to my friend as we got into the car. Both were close to the Masjid, close to the hospital he would be working at and not a huge distance from the the Medical university she wanted to attend. It was perfect.

”Maybe you’ll use your apartment more often now,” she said, and I heeded the silent question mark as I glanced behind us at the flat that held so many memories of Aadam.

Aadam’s apartment. It would never truly be ‘mine’. I wasn’t yet sure if I could stay there. Every time I had gone there to do a speedy clean up, there were just too many memories of him. I didn’t have the heart to sell it. His presence was so felt, in every morning I woke there, at every corner I took. It was like I was just waiting for him to pop up from behind the couch with his one quirky eyebrow raised and tell me that this was all one huge hoax. Oh, how I wished.

”There’s still one more,” Faheem said, cutting into my thoughts as we drove along. “It wasn’t entirely available but the pictures looked great.. Its actually a house…”

He smiled as Nusaybah as she scrunched her face excitedly. My cousin and Nusaybah were actually such a sweet and amazing couple… and I actually could not believe that I had missed this potential before this. Yes, she was boisterous and determined.. and Faheem was reserved and a tad bit intense… but this was complete proof that opposites really did attract. I just wasn’t sure how he would fare with her constant unconfined spirit. Though not as averse to emotion as Ahmed, Faheem was pretty introverted.

“I haven’t seen it yet,” Nusaybah said excitedly. “But Faheem said I’ll lurvv it! Its a really nice neighborhood… somewhere near Ahmed’s place.”

I nodded, glancing at my wrist watch again. It would be nice for to them to stay near to Ahmed. Khadijah was gazing out the window and humming to herself while she played with a little ice-cream shaped lip gloss Rubeena had gifted her. Begrudgingly, my daughter was always being spoilt by everyone. Whether it was Rubeena, or my in laws… she just had to say the word and her every desire would be fulfilled. I just hoped that she wasn’t going to become a bratty monster. Aadam wouldn’t have been very pleased with that.

And as I remembered Aunty Radiyyah, it was just as well that we were going to Ahmed’s neighborhood, because really needed to make a stop and see them both. Ahmed had mentioned something by-the-way about Rubeena not being well, and now that I thought about it, I knew that the worst thing that could happen is Aunty Radiyyah leave for the airport later that day without Khadijah and I seeing her. My daughter would be hysterical.

”Nus,” I said tapping her on the shoulder as Faheem took an off ramp that lead to our old neighborhood. “Can we make a stop please? I just want to see Aunty Radiyyah for a few minutes.”

“Anything for you, doll,” Nusaybah nodded as I explained to my cousin where the house was.
Nusaybah was chattering away as per usual, her face bright and her cheeks were flushed with happiness. I had always wished Nusaybah to find the most amazing person, when the time was right. I was now certain that she had found her own fairy tale ending and I made a silent but fervent Du’aa that it would remain that way.

”I’ll come with you,” Nusaybah said breezily. “I barely got to speak to her on the wedding day and I have no idea when I’ll see her again…”

She trailed off as a wave of sadness hit me, realizing that she was right. The truth was, neither did I. Aunty Radiyyah didn’t give me any definite answer when I spoke to her on the phone the day before. She seemed really emotional about leaving too. She hadn’t been to see her extended family in years but she would miss everyone here immensely. My heart was somewhat in despair as I thought of her not being ‘just around the corner’ anymore. It was all kinds of sentimental..

The crunching of their driveway gravel beneath the car tyres were always a welcome sound for my daughter. She had a huge, one dimpled smile on her face as she looked ahead, her amber eyes fixed on the door as if Aunty Radiyyah would pop out any second. We were a little earlier than I thought, and as we stepped off the car I could not help but take a huge gulp of scented air, nostalgic as I remembered the fragrance of those yesterday, today, tomorrow’s that bloomed every Spring. Ah yes, today, in the spectacular morning sunlight, they were in all their glory.

How the time whizzed by. It was my favorite time of the year once again…

”Wow, Mummy,” she squealed excitedly. She was pointing to the yellow-flowered tree that stood at the Centre of the garden. “Look at those! I never saw that one before!”

Of course she didn’t. And it was no wonder that she Aadam’s daughter because she never missed the magnificence of nature. She was too young to know that the yellow-flowering Tabebuia tree that bloomed did so annually, and it’s striking beauty was so intense that no one could miss how it brighten up the entire front yard.

I smiled and strolled along. Not so long ago it was around this time of the year when we were just a couple of kids, playing hop-scotch beneath blossoming jacaranda trees and scurrying around in the pelting rain. There were so many memories here. In this garden… in this yard… every time I came here, I couldn’t help but think back to how much of fun we would have as kids, as we enjoyed the very best of nature’s gifts. Of course, who could forget the tradition from August every year since I was six, to witness Mother Nature’s surprising bounties. To go out and start planting… investing… observing the wonders that the new season had for us every year.

That childhood.. with its wonder and greenery… was invaluable. Though I tried my best to show the boys and Khadijah the best of what I had had … somehow there seemed to be so many more distractions in this new age. Sometimes the beauty of it flew right over their heads. This garden was somewhat the inception of all things beautiful and hopeful. It was a soothing for my bruised soul at the time, and the place where I felt like true royalty, whilst I basked in the magic of Allah’s creation. It was where dreams came alive and where I was the conquering queen of my very own secret abode.

I couldn’t forget. Suddenly, everything just seemed so clear. The energy. The drive. The restless ambition of youthful splendor. There was so much of it. It was both exhilarating yet exhausting, and I clearly remembered those days we spent, just soaking up the blazing sun and chatting about our childish aspirations.

I turned my gaze to where Khadijah and Nusaybah were skipping hand in hand as we paused at the porch steps. The sunlight shone down on her bouncy curls and I could almost see myself, that little daring girl in her, as she swayed her dress from side to side and stopped down to pick a flower from the side of the path.

Those were unforgettable times. Beautiful moments that I could hardly define.

I breathed out as I heard footsteps come to the door, relieved that I wasn’t too early to miss Aunty Radiyyah.

I knocked and braced myself for Aunty Radiyyah’s dynamic voice, and without doubt, her warm embrace. She was always so excessively welcoming, that I hadn’t prepared myself for anything else. Of course, as the door swung open, I hadn’t expected anything less.

And like a sudden jolt to my system, my heart kind of jumped to mouth as I realized that it wasn’t my dear Aunty Radiyyah, but a strangely familiar face that looked back at me. From the striking sunshine just outside,  my eyes were still adjusting to the darkness inside, yet I still wasn’t sure if I was seeing right.

I didn’t even realize that I was staring as I relived those moments when I would pound on the door like a hooligan, awaiting the adventures that the day held. Like a screen play rolling backwards, with us as the main characters… the memories were like flashbacks through my mind.

Of course, it was so hilarious that here I was, pounding on his door once again, and could not fathom how I had forgotten that him answering would be a great possibility.

And oopsi. I didn’t mean to wake him.

Somehow, I had forgotten that Khalid lived here again. Moreso, as I found myself face-to-face with this guy who had been such a prominent part of my childhood, I could not help but feel extremely awkward in his presence. Of course, I could see that he was a little startled too.

Those childish giggles… the boisterous fun… the endless games… was it really so long ago? Were we really completely different people?

I shook my head as I tried to recover, greeting briefly as he looked down a little consciously. Of course he would be. I was quite ashamed that I hadn’t been a little more modest. I wasn’t sure what had overcome me in the moment.

And I got it. I got that we weren’t the same people we were back then. We had changed… we had grown. Goodness, we even looked different. Older  different. I had forgotten those steely eyes.. Yikes…

Oh gosh, I had to lower my gaze…  Nonetheless…

”Khawwwleed…”

I could not believe my ears as I whipped my head around. She called him like he was her friend! Her voice was ecstatic as she lunged forward, grabbing hold of Khalid’s legs as I took a step back and watched my daughter as if she was another person’s child. It was obvious that she had struck up quite a friendship with this guy and I wasn’t too sure how I felt about it. And since when did she call grown people so linguistically expertly by their first name?!

This definitely called for a twisted ear when we were in the car!

”Is Aunty Radiyyah not here?” Nusaybah said it loudly, to no-one in particular, but I could see that she was trying to ease the awkwardness.

I could not bring myself to look up again as she asked the question. And I knew I shouldn’t. The one glance that had strayed had been a little too dangerous. All I could remember was the thudding in my chest as I realized who it was. It was something that caught me completely off-guard.

And as he put my daughter down and briefly explained that Aunty Radiyyah had popped out to the shop and would be back soon, it was just in time that the car hooter from down the driveway sounded. I said I’d be back to see her later, grabbed my daughter and literally made a run for it. Of course, I had to ignore my hammering chest and the snicker from Nusaybah behind me as I did so.

”And once again, the plot thickens,” Nusaybah said mysteriously, cackling away like a witch as I slowed down and we made our way to the car. “I can read you like a book, my friend…”

”Read what?” I said innocently, holding my head high and ignoring her. So what if I was a little flustered? It didn’t mean anything.

”He’s dreamy, isn’t he?”

I rolled my eyes at her, nudging her in the ribs.

”Shurrup,” I snapped, giving her wide eyes and retying my niqab as I reached for the door handle. “You’re married, remember? And he’s a Maulana. Give him a break…”

“I know, I know,” she said begrudgingly, but with a cheeky smile. “But he’s human too. Like some kind of super- transcendent human with a-“

”Nusaybah! ” I scolded, feeling embarrassed for Khalid. Nusaybah was way too descriptive for my liking.

I recalled her habit of giving guys super-freaky extra-terrestrial qualities. From vampires to aliens, I wasn’t sure what would be next and I didn’t want to find out.

“Sorry, sorry!” She said apologetically. “That evil arrow of Shaytaan is at it again. I promise, no more weird attributes. I’m trying, okay?”

I chuckled as she smacked her hand to her forehead and got into the car. I didn’t expect her to, but she actually told Faheem the whole story about what had just transpired. I could see that he found her amusing. At least he took it with a pinch of salt and I didn’t blame him. Honestly, Nusaybah was really something else.

And yes. That evil gaze that’s like the arrow of an arrow of Shaytaan. Yes, it had befallen us at one point and I knew that my friend knew it too.

Rasūlullah (S.A.W) said: “Evil glance is one of the poisoned arrows of Shaytān, (whoever indulges in casting furtive evil glances) on him be Allāh’s curse. Whoever forsakes it for the fear of Allāh Ta’ālā will receive from Allāh Ta’ālā the sweetness of Īmān which he will find within his heart.”

I wouldn’t have ever admitted it, but for those few moments as I stood there, like dejavu, the memories of our inherently magical childhood were as clear as ever before. Just the other day it seemed, we would compete to get to the highest branch of the infamous oak tree. Just the other day, we’d let our imaginations run wild as we contemplated vivid dreams for the oh-so-distant future. Just the other day, I could speak my heart with no reservations. I could relate to him what I wanted from a life that seemed so far away. I could reveal my hopes and dreams for the future… and not only would he listen, but he would make me believe that it all would come true.
And of course, then, as if it was just the other day, was moment when everything had changed completely.

Somehow, we had gotten a little caught up in a sin that was waiting to overcome. It was the day when I saw something different in his eyes. It was when the plot of our story had taken a completely different turn. It was a point of no return… when I knew there was no going back. It was when something had stirred within, when innocence had been ripped away and our entire youth had evolved…

And at that point… though we were just a pair of kids on the brink of adolescence… And I knew how much we meant to each other… I just didn’t know how much it could change. Things were different. I didn’t want to accept it… but after that day… I had felt it too. Now I believed him… and that was when I knew that even though he didn’t want to, Khalid needed to leave.

And that’s where I was stuck. I had forgotten the solution. The antidote. Tawbah. It was always the answer. Though we didn’t quite know what we had been saved from, Tawbah was the way that I could move forward. I sought refuge from every avenue I had strayed. Tawbah was the way to save myself then… and to save myself now…

See, we all make mistakes. Aadam (AS) made a mistake, but so did Iblees. The difference was in their response to the error they made. Tawbah is always the answer. When we see our mistake and turn to him… realizing our need for His forgiveness and mercy, we actually become more beloved to Him. It was actually after he had made a mistake, realized his need for Allah, and repented, that Adam (AS) was sent to earth as a prophet.

In fact Allah, in His infinite mercy, does not just accept our repentance—He loves to forgive. The Prophet (SAW) says: “If you were not to commit sins, Allah would remove you and replace you with a people who would commit sins and then seek Allah’s forgiveness, so Allah could forgive them” [Sahih Muslim (2749)].

I smiled at my friend as she joked about something, trying to shove off the insinuations that Nusaybah had suggested as we jumped into the car, my heart rate slowing down as we started moving again. Of course, I was all caught up in my childhood thoughts, despite how much I didn’t want to be. I was still a bit lost in my own world, that I barely even noticed the house that we pulled up to.

All I knew was as I glimpsed it was that I didn’t recall this house from my childhood. It hosted a simple driveway and what looked like a new white picket fencing at the front. At first glance, it was pretty and neat, but far from the contrasting natural beauty of Aunty Radiyyah’s entrance garden. It didn’t click with me immediately exactly which house this was..

No one would have thought that this was the very house that we had all been freaked out about as kids. Of course, Nusaybah had no clue and I didn’t want to be the one to tell her that this wretched one was the infamous Purple House…

What on earth was going on today? Was it ‘re-living childhood with Khalid’ day?

I scowled are my friend as she turned to look at me, but it was obvious that Nusaybah knew nothing about the history of the Purple House… or even Khalid’s connection thereof.

”So here’s the thing,” she said quickly, turning around to look at me. “Faheem says this house is not really for sale. But the agent did recommend we look at it. Apparently the owner is not around and wants to give it away for some noble cause or something of the sort. He says that it’s got so much of potential for a home. Since Faheem will be qualified soon… we thought maybe we could suggest something along the medical lines if the owner agrees…”

I nodded, getting her drift but not really interested in all the technicalities. I so badly wanted to tell my friend that this house was haunted, but I tightened my jaw to ensure that I kept my mouth zipped because I knew that I had no real proof except Khalid’s weird escapades. All I knew that it was probably going to take some real convincing to get me in there.

And just as I was about to make some excuse and  tell her that she could carry on without me…  the buzzing in my pocket as Ahmed’s name came up on the caller ID was obviously Divinely sent.

Only Allah knew how terrified I was of that house. I frowned slightly as I answered, not wanting to give away my true elation that I had an excuse, but also thinking it was probably him just checking on where I was. I had been taking a little longer than expected. I had mentioned to him that I’d be with Nusaybah and probably visit him later that day. He was probably just wondering where I was.

”Wa-alaikum Salaam,” his stiff voice said methodically. The thing with Ahmed was that you could never quite figure what kind of mood he was in.  Ahmed always sounded the same, whether he was over the moon or down in the dumps… his voice was always lifeless and monotonous. ”Are you close?”

”I’m just down the road,” I said, my voice a teeny bit more shaky than it should have been. I was just a little flustered about the house. I walked away, just out of earshot.

“You won’t believe where I am, Ahmed,” I muttered into the speaker. “Remember that house? The purple one that-“

”Listen Khawlah,” he said cutting me off. “Sorry, but this is kind of urgent. I need your help. I need you to see to the boys. We’re going to the hospital. Rubeena’s really not well…”

---

Dearest Readers,

Hope everyone is well and in the best states of health and Imaan. I’m going to try and post again soon…

Just a thought on the note of repentance.. as we live through these crazy and extraordinary times… a post I read brought to light a really interesting point. The only way that the situation will turn around for us, and our lives can continue without fear of this new and strange disease us if we truly turn to Allah and ask for His forgiveness. Allah make it easy.. as we hope for a miracle. Allah is the only Doer. We just have to keep on with the istighfaar and ask Allah for His mercy. really the only way things will turn around… it is in the Hadith that it’s shamelessness and immorality that leads to sicknesses that we’ve never heard of before. Let’s make intention too turn to Allah through Tawbah..
Aameen.

Much Love.

A xx

Revive the Sunnah of Du’aa

Having good Expectations and certain faith that Allaah will respond

Al-Tirmidhi (3476) narrated that Fadaalah ibn ‘Ubayd (may Allaah be pleased with him) said: Whilst the Messenger of Allaah ﷺ was sitting, a man came in and prayed and said, “O Allaah, forgive me and have mercy on me.” The Messenger of Allaah ﷺ said, “You have been too hasty, O worshipper. When you have prayed and are sitting, praise Allaah as He deserves to be praised, and send blessings upon me, then call upon Him.” (Authenticated by Albani)

According to another version (3477): “When one of you prays, let him start with praise of Allaah, then let him send blessings upon the Prophet ﷺ, then let him ask whatever he likes after that.”Then another man prayed after that, and he praised Allaah and sent blessings upon the Prophet ﷺ. The Prophet ﷺ said: “O worshipper, ask and you will be answered.”

Therefore, whenever a worshipper asks Allah with sincerity, hoping for Allah’s mercy, and fulfilling the etiquette and manners of dua, he should be certain that his Du’aa will be responded to.

Lots and lots of Duaas. Let’s focus on trying to bring Du’aa into our daily lives...

How easy to practice …

#revivetheSunnahofHonouringElders

#revivetheSunnahofGiving

#revivetheSunnahofMiswaak 

#revivetheSunnahofAkhlaaq 

#revivetheSunnahofKinship

#revivetheSunnahofhonouringguests

#revivetheSunnahofdrinkingwater 

#revivetheSunnahofeating 

#revivetheSunnahDuaas

#revivetheSunnahDuaa

Twitter: @ajourneyjournal

#revivetheSunnahofhonouringguests

#revivetheSunnahofdrinkingwater 

#revivetheSunnahofeating 

#revivetheSunnahDuaas

A Battle of it’s Own

‍Bismihi Ta’ala

Ahmed

The battle was raging, the fighting furious. The archers disregarded the orders of the Prophet SAW by leaving their positions on the mountain when they saw the polytheists withdrawing .

When they saw the confusion and horror splitting the ranks of the Muslims, the polytheists focused on the Prophet of Allah (SAW) to finish him off. Mus’ab saw the impending threat, so he raised the standard high, shouting, ‘Allahu Akbar! Allah is the Greatest!’… like the roar of a lion.

He turned and jumped left and right, fighting and killing the foe. All he wanted was to draw the attention of the enemy to himself in order to turn their attention away from the Prophet SAW. What mastery… SubhaanAllah…

This one warrior thus became an entire army in himself. One in a million, this man… Would he not just back down?

Nay, Mus’ab went alone to fight as if he were an army of giants raising the standard in sanctity with one hand, striking with his sword with the other. But the enemies were multiplying on him.

Spear after spear. He fought on.., until he too was hit. One down. Two down… And then… a third one struck him with his spear, and the spear went through him. Mus’ab fell first and then the standard…

And of course, we all know that this was the event that lead to the martyrdom of one of the most beloved companions of the Prophet (SAW). That this event, where he strove and struggled to fight… where every ounce within him was battling for victory… was not unrewarded.

One of the most pampered youth of Makkah, Mus’ab bin Umair (RA) fell after he had struggled for the sake of Allah in the great battle of sacrifice and faith… and yes, he didn’t live to tell of it, neither did he have any great possessions to his name… but he died with the greatest comfort of all.  The comfort of palaces and pearls and pleasure that would last not only till Qiyaamah.. but even beyond…

And as I read and reread of the ambition and devotion of these great people that existed in the past, trying to find some focus and direction after my momentary downfalls… I couldn’t help but feel that maybe I had been missing something all this time.

As happens in this temporary world, sometimes we get caught up in its whims and fancies of our Nafs. Like a screaming child… We say what our desires tempt us to. We feel things that our hearts are inclining to. We cast gazes where we’re not supposed to. We taint our hearts and we corrupt our Imaan, when we give into everything we merely desire to do…

And yes, I know that I’ve had my fair share of not entirely unprecedented events in the recent past, but sometimes even the greater warriors fall, right? That’s the thing with being human. We’re allowed to err. To make mistakes. Find the balance, even after we’ve kind of lost the plot… that’s what it about, right?

”You just make sure you stay out of trouble,” Zuleikha had warned me the week before, clearly annoyed by the constant drama surrounding me for the past few weeks. After the hounding I got from my sisters, I wasn’t sure if I’d ever recover… and it wasn’t even over yet.

“Don’t worry,” I said wryly. “I think I’ve been through them all now…”

Zuleikha raised her eyebrows at me in annoyance.

”Proud if it, aren’t you?” She said begrudgingly. Of course I wasn’t. “I sincerely hope that you find a girl who can tolerate all your nonsense. You’ve made me grey these past few weeks. I honestly wish your future wife tons of luck.”

She was shaking her head at me in annoyance as I grinned, finding her just a little more moodier than usual. Maybe her husband was annoying her so her moods were damper than usual. Jameel still got on my nerves at times but things had simmered down by then.

As for her mention of girls, I had just had it out with my uncle and I was pretty much done with the topic. It was dusted.  And yes, maybe I gone a little overboard on the cousin front, leading my uncles daughter on… but you have to believe me when I say that I really didn’t mean for it to happen… I didn’t know that all her coo-ing and googoo-like eyes meant that she was really a little obsessed with me. 

It was just a misunderstanding. A young girl who got the wrong idea from a little attention that I had given her. I wished that I could take it back but I couldn’t. All I could do was repent and hope to atone for it in some other way…

I had just reached my brother-in-law’s place and I wasn’t sure why I had the feeling that something was up with the phone call he had made to me last week, but as I made my way up to the floor where his flat was, I couldn’t help feel a little awkward about the current situation. The last time I had been there was two months ago when my brother-in-law had very diplomatically tried to explain to me his sister’s reason for refusing my very well-thought proposal..

“Hey bro,” Adam exclaimed, after returning my greeting and giving me an affectionate pat on the back.  I could see he was happy to see me, but but I was there an hour earlier than I had planned.

”I know I’m early,” I apologized, feeling bad about disturbing his peace.

”No problem at all,” he said, his infectious smile already visible on his face. “You’re welcome anytime. The boys are here but they’ll be leaving just now… nearly their bed time…”

The boys? I caught sight of a little guys shoes at the doorway.

Ah. The nephews.

And at the mention of it, I seriously had every intention of turning around and going back home, but I knew that it wouldn’t be the most mature thing to do. At the end of the day..  my sister was married to their uncle. I knew I’d have to interact with them at some point. If it wasn’t for Adam’s almost shove into his flat, I knew I would have been rooted to the spot. I looked around warily, expecting the boys to pop out from somewhere and start doing kiddish things that would probably start annoying the heck out of me… but nothing of the sort happened at all.

Instead, I was actually left wondering where they were, as I walked to the lounge, catching sight of three heads that were silently bobbing around on the floor. It took me a few seconds to realize that the bigger two were busy assembling a race track on the carpet while the smaller one was occupied with the cars that went with it. I took a seat nearby while they snacked on chips and Adam went to the kitchen to fetch some cool drinks, feeling a little odd as these boys played silently while I watched. From what I remembered from those misled days when I spoken to Rubeena… the boys were nothing like their mother had described. I honestly doubted that think they were even the same kids…

”This part is not fitting in.”

I looked up to see an angry looking 6-year-old with two components in his hand and a frustrated expression on his face.

”Who are you?” He said, his frown deepening. “Where’s Uncle Adam?”

”Dayyaan,” warned the older boy. “Stop being rude. He’s Aunty Khawlah’s brother.”

I glanced at the other boy who looked surprisingly like his uncle. Danyaal, who I remembered Khawlah often mentioning, took the parts from Dayyaan and tried to assemble them with little success. It did look like it was a little tricky.

“Pass it here, I’ll try,” I said, stretching out my hand while little eyes scrutinized my fiddling fingers.

I wasn’t sure what made me say it, because it was completely out of character for me… but something about these kids just made me feel at home.

It took a few tries but eventually it clicked into place. The smaller boys eyes lit up as he took the assembled parts from me,  obviously content that he could get back to work. I could imagine Adam keeping them occupied this way almost every week. It seemed like the kind of thing he would do… get them busy instead of placing them in front of screen. For a computer-geek he was surprisingly anti-technology.

Danyaal grinned as he sidled up near me on the carpet, now knowing the ice was broken and asking for snippets of guidance where he required. Before I knew it, I had also delved into the whole track-building thing, eager to see how this assembly would eventually turn out. I got so into it, that I had even forgotten that Adam was around until I heard his voice behind us, telling the boys that they had to get ready to go. Obviously, there was a series of moans as Adam hurried them along because the track wasn’t yet finished, and even I felt myself getting a little disappointed. Like most other guys, I loved cars, and a Hot Wheels track was my favorite kind.

I could see Adam picking up pieces of scattered chips that were on the floor, making sure they didn’t get trampled on or go to waste as he went along. I watched him as the boys bickered in about who was cleaning up what. What Adam was doing right then took a humility of another kind. My brother-in-law was really something else. It was hard to believe that he had grown up knowing none of this and was now such a firm practicer of the Sunnah that he put most people I knew away…

”Looks like you were having fun there,” Adam said, cutting through my thoughts and raising his one eyebrow in surprise as he looked up at me. ”I didn’t think you were the type who could get along with kids…”

He was smirking and I knew he was taking a dig at me to ascertain my reaction. I stayed neutral as I shrugged, not really knowing what to say. I supposed kid-boy things were fun. In doses.

”How are you feeling?” I asked, remembering the real reason I came to visit.

I hadn’t seen my brother-in-law in a while and the visit was overdue. Being Adam, he had been the one to call me last week to check how I was, and I kind of got the feeling that he had something else to mention too.

“Great,” he said, a little too enthusiastically. “Doing great.”

I nodded, looking at him a little skeptically and then leaving it at that. I was glad that he wasn’t bed-ridden or feeling like crap. I was also glad that my sister was staying here at least a few days in the week… and both of them seem to be on cloud nine since then. I was happy for them. I really was.

”I know I called to see you last week,” he said suddenly, taking a seat opposite me. “I wanted to talk to you, but I’m not sure if I should say it…”

I looked at my brother-in-law questioningly, not really sure what to expect.

”I know your sister would probably have my head for this,” he continued, a hint of humor visible in his eyes as he spoke. “But this is kind of important to me too…”

I swallowed as he continued, not expecting him to bring up my past request after we’d been through it, but equally intrigued by the point of it all the same. He explained that he couldn’t leave it as it was… and I couldn’t help but be slightly speechless as he finished.

What he was actually suggesting something that would dig up all the old skeletons from the closet… and from where I was right then, I wasn’t exactly prepared to go back there…

”I don’t know,” I said, rubbing my temples, a little overwhelmed by his request.

”She’s changed her mind,” he said simply. “She asked me if you’re still interested. Obviously Im in no position to answer the question… I know it’s a bit late but maybe you’ll consider? Maybe she was just caught by surprise at the time but now… well, now she’s thought it through, spoken to lawyers… my father… and guess what, yeah? He actually wants to meet you… properly…”

Adam eyed me out while I stood there, hands in my pockets and slightly stunned at this turn of events.

Yes, I loved him but he had a helluva way of making things seem like they were no big deal. Only problem was that this was actually a real nerve wrecking thing and with all the drama in my life recently I wasn’t sure in what light I’d be seen. Did he really know what a rotten kind of guy he was suggesting for his sister? I wasn’t even sure why or how… but somehow I had gotten another shot with the girl who I couldn’t seem to get off my mind and the thought was making me feel a little edgy.

”Tomorrow?” I asked, not quite believing that it had to happen so soon. I wasn’t sure why I was set I’ll looking for excuses. Maybe it was the shock of it. “That’s a bit soon though… don’t you -“

”I’m taking your sister somewhere tomorrow,” he said, and I already understood. “I think it’s better if Khawlah isn’t here when it actually happens …”

I hated to say it but I knew it was true. Khawlah was convinced that Rubeena and I would never work out. So much so, that even I had begun to believe it. She also couldn’t keep a secret from Zuleikha and I wasn’t keen on her finding out just yet…

I swallowed and nodded, understanding his point and trying to psych myself up for it. This would be a complete game-changer. It would alter my entire life. It would change everything as I knew it right then.

But hell, everything within  me was telling me to go for it. There was no doubt, like the last time. There were no excuses, like I found my mind conjuring up two months ago. Right then, I knew that there was no-one else who I would have ever been so certain about… and there was no way that I was going to let the opportunity slip by. Somehow, Allah had placed everything perfectly… and there was no way that I was going to mess this up.

”I think you’re amazing, bro,” Adam said, as I made my way towards the door now, knowing that I had to neatly prepare myself. “But it’s a big step for any guy so take it easy. Don’t stress yourself out. Talk it out to settle her fears. Ease your mind… trust in Allah…  and then you can see how you guys feel, yeah…”

I was kind of spinning.

I couldn’t quite believe that this was actually happening. I barely slept that night, because I was so scared that I was going to mess it up. I asked Allah for His guidance, for a sign to know that it would all turn out okay. I kept going over various scenarios in my head, and eventually drifted into slumber just before Fajr Salah, struggling with all might to pry my eyes open on time so I would make it for the first Takbeer. I hadn’t missed it in years and I wasn’t going to let the thought of a prospective proposal ruin it for me.

Of course, I couldn’t sleep after so I busied myself with some work and then read some Quran before getting ready. It still sounded a little far-fetched, and reality was a foreign notion to me even as I got into my simple Golf, a little more dressed up than usual, and headed off down the estate to the house I’d been avoiding even glimpsing for a few weeks.

Of course, I was a little unsettled. My hands were slightly sweaty and I couldn’t quite believe that this was making me feel like some sort of invalid. It was completely out of character for me but I sucked it up and straightened my kurta, checking my appearance one more time in the rear view mirror as I stepped out, just concentrating on making my way to the door without any major hiccups. Adam had said that the kids would be with his mother and I was glad that there would be no spectators while I tried to prove myself to the woman who obviously thought I wasn’t worthy of her in the first place…

And as the door opened, I had to kind of do a double take, because in person, the situation was that much more intense. My heart was beating rapidly in my chest as I greeted Adam’s father, introducing myself briefly and answering his general questions about my job and everything else that I was currently doing.

And yes, I was nervous. The obvious fact was that I was a whole decade younger than his daughter, and I didn’t have half the money that her previous husband did… but since being a genuinely nice guy was his expertise, like Adam, he didn’t make it an issue. Surprisingly, I quite liked him… and until it seemed like all his fears were addressed and the end of our meeting was nearly at its end, I had kind of forgotten what the next step would be.

Seeing Rubeena after all these months was going to be something that I was half dreading and half awaiting, and as Adam’s father instructed me to wait there while he called her… I couldn’t help but wonder if this was all going to just fall flat on my face.

For the first time in my life, I was scared. So scared that everything was going to collapse and nothing would turn out the way I wanted. Despite knowing that it was all in Allah’s control… I wanted something so badly that I could feel deep fear gripping me from within at the mere thought of it not working out…

” ‘Salaam-u-alaikum…”

I looked up as she spoke, obviously not entirely prepared for her actual presence. All I glimpsed was a loose dress and her simply draped hijab. I had envisioned so many scenarios in my mind, but they all paled in comparison to the reality right then. Right then, as I gawked a little idiotically at this woman who I was trying so hard to forget for the last few months, the reality was that I couldn’t stop staring because everything at that moment was just kind of surreal…

”How are you?”

She was looking at me as I looked at her, slightly uncomfortable under my gaze, as I hastily looked away, knowing that I shouldn’t have been staring like that. It was a little creepy and I knew it.

”I’m okay,” I said, just barely audibly. “Fine, Alhumdulillah. How are you?”

Politeness was the way to go. Polite and nice. Calm, polite and the nice guy that I knew I sometimes could be. If I tried really hard.

And of course, as she answered and made her way slowly to the couch opposite me, of course, it was at the precise moment that the buzzing in my pocket kind of caught me off-guard. I pulled it out hastily, looking at the caller ID and getting only slightly worried as I looked up at Rubeena who was also probably wondering who was calling with the most inappropriate timing.

”It’s Khawlah,” I said aloud, not really comprehending why she would be calling me. Right now, of all times. Yup, she really chose her moments.

The call cut as I watched it, and just as I was about to call back it immediately started ringing again.

”Take it,” Rubeena said, her eyes looking slightly more serious than it did just a minute ago. “It may be important…”

I nodded and slid my finger to answer, placing the phone to my ear and really not anticipating the anxiety in my sisters voice as I listened to her. My own mind went into overdrive as she spoke, sending me into a slight panic as she explained her reason for calling…

I calmly told her that I’d leave right away, cut the call, and then hastily got up, knowing that this was a battle I would have to fight no matter what. A battle that I might lose, in order to win the greater war. A battle of sincerity that I was struggling to conquer. A battle where I would realize the true purpose of waging a war.

Sometimes it wasn’t only about the conquering.
Sometimes the greatest battles are fought on the inside.
Sometimes it was about doing the right thing… whether your heart wants to or not.

”You need to go?” Ruby asked, a little anxious as she watched me. “Is everything okay?”

I didn’t want to go, but this was the test. I wasn’t sure if this would sabotage everything but I took a deep breath, and then finally looked at her steadily, knowing that she had a right to know too.

It was her brother after all.

”I’m sorry, Ruby,” I said bluntly. “I have to go. Everything is not okay…”

---

A forgotten Sunnah. Eaten fallen particles…

Sometimes we forget the Barakah that can be in even a grain of food. To eat what has fallen on the cloth or even the floor… SubhaanAllah.
Anas ibn Maalik narrated that when the Messenger of Allaah (peace and blessings of Allaah be upon him) ate, he would lick his three fingers. Anas said: “And he said, ‘If any one of you drops a piece of food, let him remove any dirt from it and eat it, and not leave it for the Shaytaan.’ And he commanded us to clean the plate, and said, ‘For you do not know where in your food the blessing is.’” (Narrated by Muslim, 2034). 

#revivetheSunnahofMiswaak 

#revivetheSunnahofAkhlaaq 

#revivetheSunnahofKinship

#revivetheSunnahofhonouringguests

 

#revivetheSunnahofdrinkingwater 

#revivetheSunnahofeating 

#revivetheSunnahDuaas

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